⠀　 　⠀　 　⠀　 　⠀　 INDEX

one ✧➳

when you sleep with your best friend and wind up pregnant, the last thing you expect after avoiding him for weeks is a marriage proposal.

two ✧➳

as the months blur and your proximity to jungkook tightens, so does the tension between the two of you, turning sharp and reckless. between now living together and working for the new york titans, it's unavoidable - evidently, so is winding up in his bed time more often that not. with the already bizarre situation, you agree that it's just sex and that the engagement is still just for the baby. . .until you can no longer fight the lies.

three ✧➳

you finally confront the feelings you’ve buried deep for jungkook, just as your last trimester and all-star weekend collide - bringing unexpected drama in their wake. the time to face the music arrives and it's a song that you've known all along.

bonus chapter ✧➳

before the wedding begins and long after it ends, you and jungkook find peace in the quiet moments together.

June 2025

Appearing with a six-month-old in your arms at your best friend’s daughter’s first birthday party wasn’t in your plans. How did you end up in this position? Well, the guy you’ve been hooking up with, Jungkook, got you pregnant on a very heated night, and you’re now parents to a beautiful little girl, Nova.

Your eyes land on Jungkook, who’s holding your daughter in his arms while discussing with your best friend’s husband, Jin. An inevitable smile grows on your face when you see him with Nova, a vision you’ve grown fond of over the past six months.

The chatter of the party hums around you, and your eyes leave Jungkook to look around. The kids are playing with wooden toys in the living room, and the adults are balancing paper plates and half-finished conversations.

You try to blend in, pretending this is all normal, and that you aren’t walking in with the biggest plot twist of your life clinging to your shirt like a sleepy koala.

Your best friend, Darim, spots you from across the room before joining you. She wraps an arm around your shoulder without hesitation, as if the two of you haven’t spent the last year navigating motherhood side by side, swapping tips, tears, and texts in the middle of the night when your babies couldn’t let you sleep.

“Seems like you’re handling this co-parenthood thing like champions,” she says, her fingers brushing your shoulder.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you answer, your gaze moving from your best friend to your baby daddy.

“Told you that everything would go well,” she adds before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Darim knows everything. She was the first person you told about the pregnancy, the one who listened to you crying with zero judgment, which you were really grateful for. Having a baby with Jungkook, the guy who was never supposed to be anything serious, was absolutely scary.

And speaking of the devil, Jungkook joins you with Nova in his arms, and you can’t help but notice her favorite stuffed bunny sticking out of his back pocket. That bunny is your absolute savior whenever she cries like she’s being killed. He gives you that crooked smile, the one that complicates everything.  

And as you watch him with Nova in his arms, you can’t help thinking about how you got here—how one unexpected night turned into pregnancy, into co-parenthood, and into whatever this is now.

So let’s get back in time, to over a year ago, to get back to the beginning.

A year ago – May 2024

Lately, you haven’t been feeling extra well. A lot of nausea, food aversion, and a lot of sleeping, and on top of that, everything smells bad.

Up until now, you haven’t been too concerned about it, thinking it was probably the flu or something like that. But yesterday, you noticed how sore your breasts were and how bigger they got, which instantly got you worried. Inevitably, you checked your period tracking app. 

The last time you got your period was two months ago.

Following the app, you should have ovulated six weeks ago, which oddly coincides with that one wild night with Jungkook, the man you’ve been hooking up with for almost a year. That infamous night, you both got carried away and didn’t use protection.

The next day, you ran to the closest pharmacy to take the morning-after pill. There was no way you’d carry the child of the guy you barely knew anything about.

But today, you’re left with the doubt of an eventual pregnancy, even though you’re convinced it’s not possible. The emergency contraception should have worked, and if it didn’t, you’re definitely going to sue the entire world.

So now you’re currently putting the groceries in the fridge while waiting for the result of the pregnancy test you took minutes ago. You’re absolutely not worried, convinced that you aren’t pregnant, but it’s best to be a hundred percent certain.

Once the groceries are put away, you head back to the bathroom, grabbing the test. For a couple of seconds, you stare blinkingly at the test, the world around you disappearing completely.

The pink line sharpens in your vision, and your brain refuses to understand at first, because it can’t. It can’t be true. It simply feels unreal. This is not possible. You can’t be pregnant.

Suddenly, your entire body starts shaking, before a strangled cry escapes you. The tears form in your eyes as reality violently hits you, and the weight inside your chest crushes you completely. Your vision gets blurry, making it impossible for you to see anything properly.

Everything is collapsing around you, and you feel completely powerless. However, your mind races through every impossible question at once: How? Why? What now?

For a moment, lost in your despair, you totally forget about Jungkook, the father, but as questions start to race through your mind, you can’t help but realize that you’ll have to tell him. This human growing inside is as much his as yours. 

You press a hand to your mouth as you really realize the extent of what this means. This seems like a fucking nightmare—one you desperately want to wake up from, but it seems like it’s impossible. The tears ravage your face while you cry with your entire soul.

You sit down on the floor, back pressed against the wall, while you just let yourself cry. After what feels like eternity, you stop crying and clean your face as you stand up. You gather any remaining strength left in your soul to cook and fall asleep after eating on your couch with a heavy heart.

The next day

Even though you desired to stay at home and not interact with the world for at least a month, you had to work. You did the absolute minimum, barely talked to your coworkers, and disappeared in your own little bubble. Your mind was constantly drifting to the little life growing inside you, and each time you’d do it, your hands would instinctively rest on your belly.

When you arrived back home, you truly believed you’d just remain alone in your own bubble, but you were damn wrong. Darim had been calling you nonstop since the morning, but you weren’t in the mood to speak with anybody. You felt a bit guilty since she was very close to her due date, but you just needed some time alone to process the news. 

Nevertheless, someone rings at your door like a damn maniac. No need to be a genius to know who it is. Darim. When you see her face in the intercom, you simply open the door, letting her storm inside your apartment.

“Do you want to kill me before I give birth?” she says before even greeting you. “I’m due in a month, show me some pity and pick up that damn phone.”

“Hello to you, too, Rimy,” you tell her while closing the door.

“There’s no ‘hello’ for you, yn,” she angrily says. “You don’t deserve it.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed, but honestly, deep down, you’re happy she’s here.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I just needed some time alone.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Since when?”

Darim is your childhood best friend; she’s been by your side since you were like five. You’ve done everything with her, and you’re inseparable. Her husband, Jin, sometimes still struggles to share his wife with you—or maybe you’re the one sharing her with him, still to be thoroughly considered.

“Since I’m not feeling well,” you reply before falling dramatically on your couch.

Your best friend suddenly seems concerned, her hands caressing her huge belly as she slowly sits down. Now, you feel extra remorseful for worrying her when she’s at the end of her very much wanted pregnancy.

“What happened?” she says, her eyes not once looking away from you.

You don’t want to say out loud that you’re pregnant because it will definitely and permanently make it real. But you’re left with no other choice. You have to say it. She has to know, and eventually, you’ll have to break it to Jungkook. 

You take a deep breath, close your eyes before opening them again, and finally say, “I’m pregnant.” 

For a moment, there’s a heavy silence between you while she blinks several times, her gaze shifting from your face to your non-existent bump. She definitely looks surprised, and you’re damn scared about her reaction.

“How?” is all she says when she breaks the silence.

“No need to explain to you how I got pregnant,” you ironically say while pointing to her very big baby bump.

She rolls her eyes, “Obviously, I know how one gets pregnant, but who…” She seems to realize suddenly who the father is. “Don’t tell me that it’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” you nod as you speak.

Jungkook isn’t a bad guy. Actually, you’d say that he’s a good one, but you don’t really know him. You just meet over sex, do your own thing, and then get back to your life. He’s for sure absolutely sweet before and after your steamy and hot session. He always makes sure that you’re good with whatever is going on, cracks a joke or two when you are nervous, and always takes good care of you before leaving.

However, there is a lot of unknown about him. Like, what does he do in his spare time, what is his favorite color, how many siblings does he have, what makes him happy, what doesn’t, and you can keep going on for hours. The few things you know about him are his name, age, profession, and home address. That’s it.

And now, you’re having a fucking child with him…

“What happened to the ‘we always use protection’?” she asks.

“We always do, but there was one time…”

She heavily sighs. “Yn, for fuck’s sake…”

“Let me finish, Rimy,” you cut her off, and she nods. “Once, too caught up in the moment, we forgot about protection, but I took the morning-after pill the next day.”

“It clearly didn’t work,” she mumbles.

“No, really?” you ironically ask. “I don’t understand how this happened.”

She takes a deep breath as she strokes her prominent belly, trying to comfort who knows who. Herself? The baby? You?    

“Do you know what you want to do?” she asks.

Well, you haven’t properly thought about the after. You’ve been trying so far to digest this news.

“Not yet,” you confess. “But I surely need to discuss this with Jungkook.”

Right now, it feels like there are three options: keeping the baby, aborting, and giving the baby up for adoption. None of them seems right, but you definitely need to consider them all.

“For sure.”

Darim struggled her entire life to have a baby with Jin. This one is their miracle. She lost two before this one, went through rounds of IVF, and you know how hard it has been for her. You’ve held her when she was crying with despair because she couldn’t have what she always desired.

And you, you didn’t even try, and you’re now carrying a baby with a guy you barely know. If you could, you’d hand this baby to her right away. She’s the one worthy of becoming a mother. Not you.

“Even at thirty, you still manage to put yourself in fucked up situations,” she says while smiling.

You chuckle because she couldn’t be more right. You’ve spent your life doing nonsense and always ending up in situations where your parents could only scold you. You’ve given them a lot of work.

“Nothing new,” you smile at her.

You’ve always put your life at risk since you can remember. It’s like you’re not scared of anything while still being scared at the same time—not sure if this makes any sense. But you always wondered if it was related to the fact that you were adopted. It’s like nothing could be worse than being abandoned by your own parents.

“Look, I’m here for you, no matter what you decide to do, okay?” she says while patting your shoulder. “And you definitely need to start by telling Jungkook. Even if you barely know each other, he deserves to know that he might become a dad.”

You couldn’t agree more with her. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him in the dark, not knowing that a little human exists thanks to him. So the moment Darim left your place, you texted him. Nothing that would imply that you’re pregnant. It’s a simple ‘Can you come over?’

It’s not unusual for you to say that. Whenever you need to relax or need a good fuck, you’d just tell him to come over. So that text is far from being suspicious. Seconds later, he replies that he’s on his way.

You think about all the possible ways to reveal it, but nothing seems as great as the simple ‘I’m pregnant’. There’s no way to make it sound better.

It only takes him a couple of minutes before he shows up at your door. The moment you pull it open, a smile stretches across his soft features, and you honestly just melt instantly.

Jungkook has always been the hot, sinfully handsome type, the kind of man women glance at twice and then complain about because no one should look that good. And yet, somehow, unbelievably, he’s spent the last year choosing to only sleep with you.

He leans against the doorframe, casual in a way that makes your knees threaten to fail you. In the soft hallway light, every detail seems sharper: his sharp jaw, the curve of his mouth, and the slope of his chest beneath his shirt. His body looks like it was carved by God himself, and it even seems like He took his time sculpting all the strong lines and warm skin of Jungkook’s body.

And beyond that insane body, there’s a man who looks like a walking green flag, the kind of man mothers dream their daughters will bring home. But then, again, you might be wrong since you don’t really know this man.

“Hi,” you say, offering him a small smile while gesturing for him to step inside. “Come in.”

Jungkook nods before getting inside your place. “Hi,” he says as he turns around to face you after you closed the door. “All good?”

You don’t really reply, only looking at your hands that suddenly seem more interesting than the man in front of you.

“Yn,” he murmurs, moving nearer as his fingers gently lift your chin so you meet his gaze.

The tears inevitably start appearing as you look at him. You don’t feel brave enough to tell him about this fucking situation you’re in, but you can’t do otherwise. You can’t deprive him of knowing the existence of his child. That would be too cruel.

“What’s going on?” he asks with concern.

As the tears roll down your face, he cleans them with his thumbs, trying to suppress the painful image displayed in front of him.

“I’m…” you try to speak, but it seems impossible.

“Did someone hurt you?” he asks with evident concern.

You shake your head. “It’s not that…”

You close your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather yourself. He needs to know.

“Take your time,” his thumb strokes your cheek before he presses a gentle kiss on your forehead.

How can someone be this sweet? He is only making this even harder. You don’t even dare to look at him, too scared that you’ll chicken out. 

“You remember the night we forgot to use protection?” you finally break the silence.

“Yeah,” he says. “How could I? You looked like a fucking goddess.”

Jungkook had a job-related event—one where he had to bring a plus one. He didn’t know who to choose, so he invited you. Since it meant free drinks and food, you accepted it.

That night, he looked so damn well in a suit. You couldn’t even keep your eyes off him. He was like a walking snack you were waiting to eat.

Throughout the event, he kept complimenting you and really talking very dirty to you. It was hard to survive with him telling you in detail what he’d do once you’d be alone. You didn’t even know how you made it to the end of the event.

He drove you back home, and since you were both horny as fuck after his intense teasing, you simply had sex. The rest didn’t matter. You didn’t even realize he wasn’t using a condom until he came deep inside you. It was too late.

“That’s not true,” you chuckle.

“Well, if you don’t believe me, maybe you remember how fucking hard I was…”

“Jungkook,” you playfully hit his arm while laughing, and you open your eyes to look at him.

“I’m just stating a fact,” he says with the biggest smile on his face. “We even forgot about everything else when we arrived here.”

You nod, but you get lost in his gaze. Even though he’s teasing you, the worry in his eyes hasn’t disappeared. You’ve never really seen him like this before.

“It’s true,” you admit, “and I even had to rush to the pharmacy the next day for the Plan B.”

He nods, and now your heart hammers in your chest. You’re about to reveal to this man that both your lives are about to change completely, and you don’t know how he will react to that. 

“But it didn’t work,” you finally admit. 

Jungkook instantly frowns, as if this seems completely impossible, and just like Darim, he doesn’t say anything for a moment, which crushes your heart completely. This silence is absolutely unbearable.

“It didn’t work, in like, you’re pregnant?” he finally says.

You simply nod, not sure of what you can add to his question.

“But how?” he asks with confusion. “It should have worked.”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess we’ll have to wait until I see my gynecologist to understand this.”

The famous Plan B only delays the ovulation, that’s what the pharmacist explains, and you knew that, you’re not stupid. But somehow, it didn’t work. There might be a reason behind that, and you’ll have to discuss it with your gynecologist. She’ll be the best to provide you with an answer.

“Okay,” he simply says. “And do you already know what you want to do?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I just found out yesterday, and I haven’t had the time yet to think about it properly.”

Jungkook pushes you in his embrace, catching you completely off guard. This is highly unexpected.

“Sorry, I wasn’t there when you found out.”

His words melt your heart instantly, and the tears flood again.

“But I’ll be now,” he continues. “I’ll stay by your side no matter what decision you take. If you keep the baby, I’ll come to every appointment, I’ll show up at birth, and I’ll never let you and the baby go.”

The tears stream faster, making it impossible to hold back the sobs you’ve been trying to swallow.

“And if you decide not to keep the baby, I’ll hold your hand,” he whispers against your ear. “You’re not alone, I’m right here.”

Now, you cry in his arms, gripping his shoulders like you’re holding for dear life. In all the scenarios you imagined, you didn’t consider this one. The one where Jungkook doesn’t even flinch when he says he’ll stay by your side. The one where he doesn’t even ask for some time to think. He just stays.

Ten days later

Today, you have your first appointment with your gynecologist, whom you called in panic after discovering your unexpected pregnancy. When you called, you informed the receptionist that you believed you were six weeks pregnant, but it needed to be confirmed.

You’re nervously tapping your feet, scared of this appointment. A big part of you expects to hear from the doctor that it was a false positive pregnancy test, but the reasonable part of you knows that this isn’t what you’ll be told.

Jungkook’s huge hand rests on your knee, trying to reassure and comfort you. “You’re stressing out every single person in this room,” he whispers to your ear.

Instantly, your eyes look around, noticing all the expectant mamas and the other people nervously looking at you. It wasn’t your intention to pass your stress onto the other persons, but you’re so wrapped up in your own worries that you didn’t notice anything.

“Sorry,” you mumble to all of them.

The one sitting next to you offers you a timid smile. She doesn’t seem pregnant, but somehow, you can tell that she understands you.

“Is it your first pregnancy?” she asks.

You nod before smiling back at her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” she replies, “but don’t worry, it’s normal. I was a total wreck when I had the first appointment for my first pregnancy.”

It is reassuring to hear that because the women around you didn’t quite experience this level of nervousness for their first pregnancy. Darim always wished to become a mother, so the news of her pregnancy delighted her. And your mom never got to carry a baby; all her kids are adopted.

But that doesn’t mean that they haven’t been trying to reassure you as much as they can. They’ve seen your distress, which breaks their hearts, and you’re absolutely grateful to have them in your life.

“Can I ask you how many kids you have?” 

A bright smile appears on her face, “So far three, but with my husband, we’d like to try for a fourth one.”

It’s impressive, but you’ve grown up in a huge family. You’re the youngest of six children, all adopted, of course. Your house has always been so full, and as the youngest, you’ve always been the perfect victim for your five oldest siblings.

“Good luck!” you tell her. “I have five older siblings, and we gave a lot of work to my mom.”

“I can only imagine,” she giggles. “It’s already tough with three, but it’s in a good way. I wouldn’t trade them for anything else in the world.”

Those have been the exact same words your mom has been saying every day for the past thirty-four years when she adopted your two oldest brothers, Taehyung and Jimin.

Your family is composed of Taehyung, Jimin, Christopher, Lena, and Minho. Christopher and Lena were adopted at birth, just like you—the three of you abandoned even before being born, but your stories are different.

Christopher’s mom was a simple teenager who couldn’t afford to raise him. Lena’s parents were poor and couldn’t keep her. And you, your father’s family were assholes and never accepted your existence, leaving your parents with no other choice but to give you up for adoption.

For your remaining brothers, the stories are a bit darker and sadder. Jimin and Taehyung, who are twins, were adopted when they were one after their mom passed away, and they had no other family. And finally, Minho was taken away from his drug-addicted parents when he was four months old.

Minho is a year older than you, and in less than a year, your parents adopted both him and you. There were like eight months in between your adoptions, and your parents never hid how difficult it was.

Unfortunately, Minho’s mom was taking drugs while pregnant, which made him a drug addict at birth, and throughout the four months she had him, she was giving him drugs mixed with milk to calm him.

Between a newborn, an addicted baby, and four young children from three to six years, it wasn’t easy. But they never regretted it. They loved you all equally, no matter how heavy your pasts were.

“You’ll see your worries will fade away the moment you hold that tiny human in your arms.”

The words settle deeper than the woman probably intends. You’ve heard them before. Your mother said something similar once, years ago, recalling the first time she held you and your siblings—how every fear she’d carried about raising six children vanished in that single moment. Not because the future suddenly looked easy, but because she knew she’d find a way.

She couldn’t change how your stories began, but she chose to shape everything that followed. As she always said, “Life may have failed you at the start, but I would never let it fail you again.”

“I hope so,” you tell her.

You don’t get to pursue the conversation as the gynecologist calls your name. Both you and Jungkook stand up, and he grabs your hand, trying to keep reassuring you. His gesture definitely warms your heart and eases its fast pumping. No matter what, you feel thankful that he’s the one who got you pregnant, and not some random asshole.  

Once safe inside her office, you take a seat on the chairs before her desk. The second Jungkook’s hand leaves yours, you swear your heart is about to explode. His warmth leaves an emptiness behind, which you absolutely need right now.

“Hello,” Dr Kang offers you the most affectionate smile you’ve ever seen so far.

Both you and Jungkook reply to her with a small smile.

“My secretary noted that you had a positive pregnancy test a week ago, and from what you described, you’d be seven weeks along now.”

You nod, your feet tapping once again nervously, but Jungkook instantly rests his hand on your thigh, his thumb brushing against your covered skin.

“Okay, so usually we don’t do an ultrasound in a first appointment, but since you’re already seven weeks, we will do one to check if everything seems right,” she explains. 

“I have a question,” you say with a shaky voice. “Right after the…”

You’re not sure if you can continue, as it doesn’t make you properly comfortable to say out loud to a stranger that you had sex with the man sitting next to you. Naturally, your eyes land on Jungkook, who smiles at you and encourages you to continue.

“Right after the unprotected intercourse, I took the morning-after pill to prevent a pregnancy, and I don’t understand how it didn’t work.”

“Well, there are a couple of reasons,” she begins. “You might be taking a treatment that could interfere, but following what I see in your records, you’re not following any particular treatment right now.”

You confirm with a nod. The pharmacist raised that question when you showed up at the pharmacy asking for the plan B.

“By any chance, did you throw up a couple of hours after?” You shake your head.

Again, the man told you that if you threw up in the next few hours, you should come back because you would need to take another pill.

“So that leaves us with the last option: you had already ovulated. This emergency contraception only delays ovulation, but if it has already happened, it can’t do anything.”

You close your eyes, your chest tightening as guilt coils in your stomach. This is all your fault. You should have paid closer attention, checked your app, and been more careful before letting yourself go wild with Jungkook. Now, you’re left with a baby growing inside you.

“Okay,” you manage to say, nodding even though your throat burns. 

“There’s still a possibility that it was a false positive test,” Dr Kang offers kindly.

Even though you truly and deeply want to believe that, you know it’s not the case here. You’re a hundred percent pregnant. You know your body. You know the nausea, the exhaustion, the strange heaviness that’s settled into you.

“But the next step would be an ultrasound,” the doctor adds. “If you could take off your pants and underwear, please.”

Your eyes glance instinctively at Jungkook. He looks like a statue. He’s sitting very straight on that uncomfortable white chair, his hands now resting on his thigh, while he definitely seems worried. He leans closer and murmurs, “If you want, I can step outside.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “You’ve already seen me naked.”

Honestly, his presence grounds you. You don’t feel exposed with him here, only feeling comfortable. He nods and stays, but definitely looks away when you undress. Although he has already seen you naked, this is different. This is more intimate. You’re not taking your clothes off to have sex, but to finally meet your child.

As you settle down on the examination table, Jungkook’s eyes don’t leave you. The doctor guides you to sit down in a position that will help her perform the pelvic ultrasound.

Being here with Jungkook seems strange because you’ve always come to this office by yourself, and for the first time, there’s somebody else. You wouldn’t have ever bet that it’d be him.

The doctor takes the long transvaginal ultrasound probe, covers it with what seems like a giant condom, and puts gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees the probe, and you can’t help but smile.

“Can I?” Dr Kang asks, and you simply nod.

Before she proceeds to insert it inside you, she gently whispers, “Relax.”

The cold touch of the device sends shivers up your spine—you’d forgotten just how cold it feels. Your gaze instantly shifts to the monitor, and you see the image moving on it. The doctor is looking for any sign of life, as you are too.

Your heart seems to race even faster. You’re terrified of what you might see, or not see. So many questions start to rise in your mind. Is there really a baby? Or are there more than one? Is this a normal or ectopic pregnancy? If you’re pregnant, is the baby alright?

There’s a hollow ache inside you, an overwhelming need for certainty, and you know that seeing it will quiet the chaos inside your mind. You don’t know what you’re hoping for, but there’s one thing you’re sure of: only the confirmation of this pregnancy might appease your soul.

Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor—a blurry figure appears, and seconds after, a heartbeat breaks the silence of the room. The noise cuts straight through you, sharp and absolute, and suddenly, the entire world freezes—the only thing alive being the blurry figure on the monitor.

It is real. You are pregnant.

You don’t even know what to feel. It’s as if your feelings have gone silent, and you’re left numb, waiting for your heart to catch up to what your eyes are seeing. Every part of you is suspended in this moment; you’re just stuck in a strange place where nothing feels quite real yet.

What pulls you back is the warmth of Jungkook’s hand on yours. It’s like he understood you needed something to ground you, to bring you back. You hadn’t noticed him move, hadn’t realized how far you’d drifted.

When your eyes drift from the monitor to him, his expression mirrors yours. He seems as lost as you are, and what truly catches you off guard is the fact that you’ve never seen anything other than lust and bliss in his eyes. The man in front of you doesn’t seem like the man you’ve gotten to know over the past year.

And it intrigues you. It also makes you realize how little you know about him.

Somehow, the two of you slip into your own little bubble, sealed off from the rest of the world. Everything around you has disappeared. There’s just you and him.

The doctor speaks in the background, but none of you pays attention to her words. Neither you nor Jungkook speaks; you’re simply trying to absorb the news. You’re busy trying to comprehend what can’t be undone.

This is real. This is happening.

The truth settles between you like something fragile and unbearably heavy—a reality that neither of you knows how to hold yet.

Your eyes move back to the monitor and the doctor, but your hand wraps around Jungkook’s. Even though you’d like to remain forever in this little bubble with him, you really should be listening to the doctor.

“The baby seems just fine,” her words echo in the room. “And the pregnancy is going well so far. There is really nothing to worry about.”

Although you’re lost right now, it is a relief that everything is going well. You’re not sure you would have been able to handle a bad news on top of this.

Once she has checked everything, she tells you that you can put your clothes back on. Your body works on autopilot while your mind still processes what you’ve seen.

“I believe that you took the emergency contraception to avoid a pregnancy, right?” she asks when you all sit back on the chairs next to her desk.   

“Correct,” you reply.

The doctor looks for something in a drawer before she places a flyer in front of you.

“This is a brochure from a clinic that performs abortion,” she begins to explain. “I don’t perform this procedure, but I can recommend a fantastic doctor if you wish.”

Her words hit you violently. Honestly, since stepping inside this office, you haven’t thought at all about abortion.

“Ab…Abortion?” you stutter.

It must be clear in your eyes how surprised and hurt you feel because her gaze softens instantly.

“Yes,” she gently speaks. “As you seemed not to desire this pregnancy, I just want to guide you to the best clinic.”

Jungkook’s hand envelops yours all over again, offering you reassurance and comfort.

“We don’t know yet,” he speaks for the first time since getting inside. “We haven’t decided yet what to do.”

You’re grateful that he stepped in because you’re just speechless. You weren’t really thinking about discussing the possibility of aborting. Both options need thorough thinking as they’ll have a permanent handprint on you. Either you have a baby and raise them, or you abort and carry the weight of ending a pregnancy for the rest of your life.

“I understand,” she offers you both a little smile.

Does she really? Well, you don’t know anything about her, so maybe she faced the same challenge, and you hope that, truthfully, she hasn’t. It isn’t easy.

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. Jungkook drove you back home. You cried in his arms in the car, and he walked with you to your place to make sure you were fine. You took a bath and fell asleep in your bed while watching your favorite K-drama.

This day felt like a fucking nightmare.

A week later

Over the past few days, you’ve spent all your time with your mom because you felt the need to be with her and to be wrapped in her love. Nothing ever beats a mother’s love. She has listened to your concerns while never telling you what to do, even though you desperately wanted it.

But ultimately, it is your decision to make, together with Jungkook. It isn’t hers.

You’ve also been speaking with Jungkook through text. He has texted you every morning and every night, asking you how you feel, which honestly made you realize that if you ever keep this baby, he’d be a great dad.

Through your conversations, you’ve gotten to understand that he has always desired to become a dad, but obviously, not in those circumstances. He’s also very scared, confused, and lost, but he underlined several times that it’s your body, and the final decision rests with you. He’s never going to force you to choose one option over the other.

You haven’t seen him in a week, and you definitely haven’t been intimate in any way. Instead, your interactions have been focused on talking openly and honestly about your future as eventual parents, and sharing every worry and uncertainty that has been on your minds.

Honestly, this new dynamic feels both strange and soothing. You aren’t avoiding difficult subjects. You’re actually giving each other space to voice your concerns and to support one another in this heavy situation.

There is a comfort in simply talking, in knowing you are not alone in your worries and that you are facing them together. And sincerely, your conversations feel more intimate than what you’ve shared in bed.

And thanks to all those conversations, you’ve managed to make a decision. You’ve invited Jungkook over tonight. You hesitated to announce it over dinner at a restaurant, but it would be more intimate to be in the safety of your place.

When the doorbell echoes in your apartment, you basically rush to the door to open it. His tall and toned figure stands in front of you. As always, he’s dressed fully in black, but it’s more casual than usual, which indicates that he didn’t come back from work.

Jungkook works in finance, so he’s always well-dressed. Whether it’s crisp shirts, neat polos, tailored pants, or even full suits, he constantly presents himself with a level of style and professionalism that’s hard to ignore. The way he dresses for work exudes confidence and sophistication, making it easy to see why he could have any woman at his feet.

And most of the time, it leaves you wondering why he’s still single. However, you’d never complain because you got to have a taste of this man.

“Hi,” he says with the brightest smile growing on his face.

The little dimple that appears on his face as he smiles is your absolute weakness. Even without trying, he looks devastatingly hot.

“Hi, mister dimple,” you smile back.

When you met Jungkook, you were absolutely wasted and could only notice his dimple. Your fingers were constantly poking it like you were trying to confirm its existence. That night, you kept calling him ‘mister dimple’, and it stayed. Sometimes, you simply call him ‘dimple’.

“Someone seems in a better mood,” he says before winking.

Although you’re still trying to process this entirely new reality, you somehow feel better.

“Yeah,” you say as he steps inside your place.

You can’t stop your eyes from following him, drawn to him like instinct. Since today’s weather is kind of hot, he’s wearing one of those t-shirts that clings a little too much to his body, outlining muscles you know too intimately. It does nothing to hide him. If anything, it makes him impossible to ignore.

Your gaze lingers shamelessly, tracing the solid lines of his torso. His tattooed arm is on full display, and it sends a familiar flutter through your stomach. You’ve seen it a hundred times before, yet it still affects you the same way, like your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

When he steps inside, his arms flex naturally, and the sight alone is enough to make your pulse jump. He never leaves you indifferent; he actually never has. No wonder you’re pregnant. This man looks way too hot, and you can barely contain yourself.

As you both walk to the living room, his eyes land on your figure, and he checks you out. There is something about the way you move that pulls at his attention every single time. From behind, you look effortlessly captivating, and damn, he wants to run his fingers in those curves that he knows by heart.

“So, what’s for dinner?” he asks with curiosity.

“I was craving a burger, and since I’m a very bad cooker, I ordered,” you reply, your gaze shifting to him. “Let’s avoid food poisoning.”

He chuckles, knowing damn well how terrible you are in the kitchen, and he still wonders how you’re even alive. Every time he comes to your place, he ends up cooking because your cooking skills are terrible. 

“We could have cooked together,” he suggests, pausing mid-step to look at you.

“The point isn’t for you to come and cook,” you retort, folding your arms over your chest and making it clear that you didn’t invite him over to act as your chef. 

“Would have been cheaper than ordering,” he claps back.

Rolling your eyes, you answer, “I’m the one who paid, so why are you complaining?” and raise an eyebrow.

Jungkook just shrugs, “Can’t I complain now?” he asks. 

“No,” you say before resuming walking to the living room.

A low chuckle rumbles from his throat while a smile stretches across his soft features. He shakes his head before he follows you to the living room. A warmth spreads in his chest when he notices the burgers carefully placed on two different plates with fries right next to them.

“Before you asked,” you begin, “I put them in a plate like a minute before you arrive.”

Jungkook takes a seat in the chair that you show him, and his smile grows bigger when he realizes that you ordered his favorite. He’s fully aware that you barely know each other, but when it comes to food, you’ve cooked so much together that you don’t even have a secret from each other about your tastes.

While eating, you both playfully discuss, forgetting for a moment that there’s a life growing inside you—a life that has completely changed yours. It’s still surreal that a literal human is developing inside you. A human you created with the man sitting in front of you. 

And when you’ve finished eating, you gather all your courage to speak out loud what has been on your mind for the past few days. He has been very clear that he’d support you no matter what, but you also don’t want to impose on him anything. If he doesn’t want to be present, it’s his choice, and you’ll respect that. 

“As you might have guessed, I’ve asked you to come because I’ve made up my mind about the little creature growing inside me,” you finally say, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to ground yourself.

Your hands twist together in your lap, knuckles whitening as your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. You can’t even look him in the eye. This conversation makes you absolutely nervous, and it has been haunting your sleep for the past two nights. But it’s a conversation you can’t avoid.

“I’m going to keep the baby,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. Saying it out loud makes it heavier, more real. “And I really don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want you to feel trapped, or like I’m forcing this on you.”

His eyes never leave you, and when you lift yours to meet his, you search for any sign on his face. However, he doesn’t show anything; his expression is unreadable, which only makes your heart beat faster.

For a moment, none of you speaks. Jungkook just looks at you, jaw tight as if you had announced something absolutely terrible. The silence stretches, and your stomach twists painfully. You’re mentally preparing yourself for rejection, even though he promised you he’d never let you and the baby go.

“If you don’t want to be involved—”

He doesn’t even let you finish your sentence, “Yn,” he says your name in such a gentle way that it makes you melt completely. “Come here,” he softly taps his lap.

You don’t even question his intention when you stand up to sit down on his lap—one that has driven you crazy way too many times, and fuck, it brings you back to the night you conceived your baby. Some riding was involved at some point that night.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands settle firmly at your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. The warmth of his palms seeps through your clothes, steady and reassuring, like he’s trying to remind you that he’s here. 

“Did I ever give you a single reason to believe that I’d leave you to deal with this all by yourself?” he murmurs, his warm breath softly brushing your cheek and sending a shiver through you.

You shake your head, your fingers tightening slightly at the nape of his neck before you speak, “But you mentioned you never wanted to become a dad under those circumstances.”

As the words leave your mouth, your hand betrays your nerves, absentmindedly threading through the soft hair at the back of his head. He lets out a heavy sigh, as though your words were the most terrible thing he’s ever heard. His forehead dips briefly toward yours, and his grip on your waist tightens, thumbs pressing into you.

“And you?” he asks quietly, raising an eyebrow. “Would you also want to become a mother under those circumstances?”

You shake your head once more.

“None of us expected this,” he says calmly, “but not once did I ever say or imply that I don’t want it.”

His left hand rests on top of your cheek, his lips a breath away from yours, and you know that any moment this can turn into something very nasty, but would it be right? Well, you’re not sure. However, every time you’ve been around him, things always become heated and end with both of you naked and panting. 

“I’m not going anywhere, yn,” he whispers. “If you want to keep the baby, I’ll remain by your side and raise this baby with you.”

“You’re sure?” you ask, biting your lower lip.

“I am,” he mumbles, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

Your heartbeat thrums in your ears as your gaze drops to his lips, your fingers playing with his hair. The tension is more than palpable between you, and you know you won’t be able to resist—well, not the moment, but him.

And then, it happens. His lips meet yours for a much-desired kiss, and it’s soft at first, almost as if he’s giving you time to pull away. When you don’t, something shifts.

The kiss deepens, and his lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. This right here feels like something you really needed after all the intense emotions you’ve been through the past few days. 

One of his hands slides up your back, holding you closer, while the other remains firm on your cheek. You melt into him, your fingers tightening in his hair as the kiss grows more intimate. It’s not desperate; it’s actually the opposite. It’s slow and tender.

When you finally part, your foreheads rest together, and your breaths mingle. For a moment, you remain like this, your eyes locked on his. It just feels right, even though it’s totally different than usual. Before today, a kiss would instantly lead to the two of you naked, his dick buried deep inside you. 

This baby is definitely changing everything—even your relationship with Jungkook. Will you fall for this man?

A month later – July 2024

This morning, you woke up to a message from Darim. Her daughter is finally born, and you honestly couldn’t be happier for her. She finally got her rainbow and very much-desired baby. With Jin, they named her Yuna, which you found adorable.

You aren’t going to visit her yet since the hospital visits are limited to the father. You’ll only be able to see your goddaughter once she’s safely home with her parents, and you’ll wait until Darim feels comfortable receiving visits.

Right now, you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your belly has been growing a lot over the past month, and you’re slowly looking like a pregnant lady. It’s honestly strange to see your body change, and it’s even weirder to realize that a literal human is growing inside you. You’re creating a human, and it’s just crazy.

You rub your hand over your growing stomach, embracing this new phase of your life.

Everything is different now, but Jungkook has become a tremendous source of support. Between unpredictable cravings, bouts of heartburn, and waves of nausea, he’s always there, ready to help with anything you need. He even prepares all your meals for the week because he absolutely refuses that his kid eats the shit you cook. Additionally, he has been teaching you how to cook properly, demonstrating patience and care with every lesson.

Honestly, you’re absolutely so grateful for everything he does. Jungkook goes out of his way to make your life easier, ensuring you’re never alone in navigating this pregnancy.

Jungkook arrives behind you, his toned body coming into view in the mirror. Instantly, his head rests against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist as his hands find their way to your growing belly. His body heat warms your back, making you melt in his embrace.

Well, this pregnancy hasn’t really stopped you from sleeping together. Actually, it had the opposite effect. Now that he spends more time with you, it’s like you’re two teenagers in heat, always glued to each other and having mind-blowing sex all the time.

The thing is, you now spend a lot more time together, so you’re really getting to know him. You learn how much he loves his job, that he likes to drink a glass of milk before going to bed, and that he scrunches his nose when he’s eating something he doesn’t like.

“Pregnancy looks good on you,” he whispers in your ear before pressing a gentle kiss on your naked shoulder.   

“It’s weird,” you admit quietly. “I find it beautiful, but at the same time, I barely recognize myself.”

Accepting this new body can be challenging at times. In the span of a month, you’ve been through rollercoasters while watching your body change. Some days you find yourself even prettier than before, but on other days, you even wonder if you’ll ever be able to have your old body back.

And thinking that it’s just the beginning doesn’t really help.  

He tightens his hold just a little, his lips brushing against your cheek. This simple gesture gives you butterflies, and for an instant, you close your eyes to savor this moment.

“To me,” he whispers with a deep, husky voice, “you look even better.”

Fuck, this man knows which buttons to pull to get you weak and absolutely wet in a second.

“You’re creating life, our kid,” he presses a kiss on your neck. “That’s beautiful and so fucking hot.”

He leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your shoulder, and small and barely audible moans leave your lips as your hand finds its way to his hair.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

His hand trails down, sneaking under your underwear. The cold feeling of his fingers against your core sends shivers down your spine. He doesn’t even wait to run his fingers along your folds, snatching louder moans out of your mouth.

“Look at yourself,” he tells you.

Slowly, you open your eyes to be graced with your own reflections. You’re only dressed in the matching set of black bra and panties, his right hand covers your stomach, and his head lies against your shoulder, but now, his left hand is hidden under your panties. The mirror does nothing to hide the way his fingers torture your core.

As his fingers move up and down your slit, your wetness spreads everywhere, soaking your underwear even more. And fuck, the way he slowly and tortuously moves his fingers drives you insane. It feels wonderful, which brings you slowly but surely closer to the edge.

And seeing him doing it through the mirror turns you on even more.  

“You’re stunning,” he breathes. “Especially like this. I swear, I could stay right here forever—listening to you, feeling you, and memorizing every part of you.”

The look in his eyes makes your breath hitch—they’re dark with lust. His jaw is tight, tension visible there, as if he’s holding himself back. Slowly, you feel his prominent bulge teasing your back, and let’s just say that it does nothing to cool you down. It’s only arousing you even more.

His hair is slightly tousled, falling into his eyes in a way that feels careless and intimate, like he’s forgotten everything except you. But, well, an hour ago, he was fucking the shit out of you like it was the only thing that truly mattered, and he didn’t have the time yet to brush his hair.

You can only see part of him—his face, his arms, and his hands—but somehow that makes it worse, more intense. His arms are wrapped around you, muscles flexing as one hand holds you close and the other pleasures you as if he hadn’t done an hour ago. 

“And the way your face contorts with pleasure when we fuck takes my breath away,” he continues whispering while never stopping to edge you.

And we’ll, the second his greedy fingers push inside you, your orgasm rips through you. It’s so intense that he has to hold you tight with his arms, and seeing yourself fall apart prolongs your orgasm. This is mind-blowing. Even better than anything he ever did before.

Jungkook turns you around to kiss you passionately. Fuck, how are you going to survive him? He’s been giving you the best orgasms of your life for over a year, and you’re about to become parents. What will life look like once the baby is out? Will you still fuck like two rabbits in heat? Will it even be possible with a crying baby?

All those questions are brushed aside as he kisses you softly. You swear that every time his lips meet yours, you just melt. It’s like he holds a special power over you. You’re still trying to understand it, but there are moments—those right before falling asleep—when you believe you’re falling in love with him.

However, you’re convinced that it can’t be that. It doesn’t quite make sense to be falling for a man you barely know—especially when you’re only just beginning to get to know him truly.

“You’re truly wonderful, yn,” he whispers against your lips. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

Your eyes look up at him as you break the kiss. His hands push your hair from your face to really and properly look at you. Jungkook knows and fully realizes that he’s falling for you, and he doesn’t hide it. For sure, at the beginning, it was just sex, and god, he had the best sex of his life.

But now that you’re carrying his baby, things are different.

He’s seeing you from another perspective. Actually, he’s truly seeing your heart, and man, he loves what he sees. As you look up at him, his heart misses a beat, making him swallow thickly. Yeah, he knows he’s fucked!

Two months later – September 2024

“Are you sure you’re doing it right?” you ask, your gaze flicking between the IKEA instructions and Jungkook.

“Give me that,” he says, reaching for the manual.

He scans the pages, then looks back at the crib he’s assembling. Everything matches the pictures, each piece exactly where it should be. He frowns, genuinely confused by your question. 

“I’ve followed every step perfectly,” he says, now looking up at you.

“From here, it looks weird,” you reply, caressing your belly that has grown rounder over the past two months.

“It’s normal,” he mutters, a hint of irritation in his voice. “The crib isn’t finished yet.”

“But shouldn’t it already look good?” you ask with concern.

“Yn,” he mumbles as he stands up to stand next to you. “If it’d look good after only assembling three pieces, then there’s certainly a problem.”

“I don’t know…” you whisper.

Jungkook instantly understands that this isn’t just about the crib. There’s definitely something else going on.

“Tell me what the real issue is, mama,” he says, his hands settling on top of your shoulders as if he’s trying to ground you both.

“I just want the best for our baby,” you tell him, your hands stroking your baby even more. “And I just want to be sure the crib is assembled perfectly so she can sleep peacefully.”

A soft smile spreads across his face as he hears your concerns. You look absolutely adorable with worry written all over your face, and he can totally understand you. This is for both of you, your first baby. Everything is uncharted territory.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you, holding you close for a moment. “We are assembling this crib perfectly, mama,” he whispers before pressing a gentle kiss on your temple. “She’ll be just fine in here. We’ll be here for her if anything happens.”

Jungkook has noticed that as you slowly get closer to your due date, which funnily is December 25th, you get more and more nervous, worrying about every single thing that relates to your baby girl. He can only understand you as he worries just as much as you do, but he has made it his mission to reassure you every single time.

He doesn’t bury and hide his concerns from you, but he formulates them in a way not to make it a burden for you. The point isn’t to make you even more stressed because he knows how it could have a bad impact on the baby.

“I know, but I’m scared it won’t be enough,” you admit as you take a step back to look at him properly.

“We’re doing our best,” he replies with such softness in his voice. “We’re preparing as much as we can before she arrives, but until she isn’t here, we can’t say for sure if it’ll be enough.”

“I know…” You say before wrapping your arms again around him.

A smile spreads across his face as he holds you tight in his embrace.

For a moment, you stay like this, and he just enjoys it even though it’s a bit complicated with your bump. It’s only getting bigger, but he can’t help but find you extremely attractive. You’re literally shining. Pregnancy definitely looks good on you.

And he realizes in this moment that he’s only falling in love with you again and again. It’s like he’s falling deeper every day, and he simply loves it.

“Now, let’s get back to building this crib for our super baby girl,” he says, pressing a kiss on your forehead gently.

Jungkook settles back on the floor in front of the crib's beginnings and returns to following the instructions to finalize it.

You sit down next to him to help him with whatever he needs. You’re not very useful because he’s doing everything by himself, but you hand him the screws and the other pieces whenever he needs them.

Suddenly, your little girl kicks you. She’s been kicking a lot in the past few days, like she’s been very active, but sometimes it’s quite painful, especially when she moves next to your rib cage.

You directly grab Jungkook’s hand, right before he starts placing a screw. “She’s kicking.”

His hand rests on your tummy, a big smile on his face, when a small but unmistakable movement presses back beneath his hand.

“She’s already strong,” he says.

“She’s killing me sometimes,” you chuckle.

His strong, tattooed hand gently touches your belly, and he stays quiet, eyes fixed on the spot beneath his palm. When he feels another movement, his smile softens. Feeling her under his hand seems unbelievable, but somehow, it makes this even more real.

He’s really going to be a father.

As his gaze lifts to meet yours, his heart swells with love. Never in his life did he imagine himself in this situation, falling desperately in love with the mother of his unborn child. But here he is, falling over and over again with you.

For almost two years, his life has drastically changed. Before meeting you, he had navigated celibacy for almost three years after being dumped for someone else. When you both met, there definitely was a strong physical attraction between you. However, neither of you was ready for a relationship, so you settled for the friends-with-benefits thing without truly knowing each other.

Things were easier like that. It was just sex.

Now, everything is different. He’s practically living at your place—cooking for you, helping you tie your shoes as you struggle to do it, showering with you, and giving you the massages you desperately crave when your girl kicks you in the ass.

He never pictured becoming a dad under these circumstances, but now, he’s grateful for them. Through it all, he’s gotten to know you—and to fall for you again and again.

Jungkook leans down, his face now right in front of your belly. “Give some break to your mama, baby girl,” he whispers. “She’s all nervous here because you don’t let her sleep properly.”

A wide smile shows up on your face.

“She’s even doubting my skills in building your crib,” he adds.

“Eeh,” you gently tap his shoulder, “for my defense, you’re a guy in finance, and I’ve never seen you being handy.”

His gaze moves up to meet yours, and his left eyebrow raises, clearly in confusion.

“You’ve never seen me being handy?” he repeats with evident surprise in his tone. “Do I need to remind you how we conceived our daughter? Or even how I feed you with proper food?”

You roll your eyes, but clearly thinking about that fantastic night of March 29th sends shivers down your spine. It was a memorable night. And seeing him cooking is like a massive turn-on, especially now that your hormones are all over the place. 

“I mean, like building and repairing stuff,” you explain yourself.

“You’re making it worse for you, mama,” he counters. “I’ve done everything in this room—from painting the walls to building every piece of furniture.”

He’s not wrong, but you’re not going to admit it. Looking at him assembling the crib feels like it’s the first time you’re seeing him being handy.

“Baby girl,” he now speaks to your daughter, “look what you’re doing to your mama. She’s so tired that she says nonsense.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you watch this tender moment unfold before your eyes.

“I’m not tired and not saying nonsense.”

“See,” he continues, “still saying nonsense.”

Two months later – November 2024

Today, you’re visiting the maternity ward, where you’ll give birth in a month. The due date is getting closer and closer, and you can’t wait to meet the little girl who has been torturing you for nine months.

Jungkook is also present, wanting to ensure that he doesn’t miss anything. This visit will cover the administrative formalities to make things easier once you arrive for the birth, a discussion over your birthing plan, and a tour of the maternity ward.

As your midwife has already explained what this visit will consist of, you have gathered all the necessary documentation for the formalities, or maybe you should say that Jungkook did.

It’s incredible to see how invested he is. He has followed every possible prenatal course, read every possible book on parenthood and fatherhood, looked on forums for advice from other fathers, and many other things. In summary, he’s more than ready for your baby girl’s arrival.

And to be honest, this reassures you a lot. You’re nervous about everything right now because the due date is very close, and his knowledge on almost every topic comforts you. Somehow, it feels like he’s the one being pregnant, and not you, but it’s great to have someone like him as your baby daddy.

As the nurse guides you through the corridors of the maternity ward, you walk beside Jungkook, one of your hands resting on your belly and the other wrapped around his arm. It’s quite hard to walk at this stage, but you try your best, and Jungkook is always next to you, helping as much as he can.

The nurse shows you the delivery rooms, the reception area, the bedrooms, and the nurses' room. Near the reception area, there are the names of the babies born this year, and they are all adorable. There’s also a section dedicated to all the little angels that didn’t survive, which honestly warmed your heart.

Throughout the visit, Jungkook keeps asking tons of questions and taking notes on his phone about the information the nurse gives you. Of course, you also raise your own questions, as this is where you’ll be bringing your baby girl to live. You can’t even believe that in a month, she’s here.

With Jungkook, you’re still hesitating between two names for her, but you’ve agreed that you’ll make the final decision once she’s out. Everybody has been begging you both to give them the names, but you refuse since you don’t want to hear people’s opinions on them. It’s always like that.

You've gotten to see it with your own eyes with your siblings. All of them already have children, and the second they revealed the names, everybody thought they were entitled to give their opinions, which is ridiculous. It’s not their child.

Once the little tour of the maternity ward is over, you head back to the car. Your hands gently caress your belly as your daughter moves a lot inside you. Lately, her movements have started to hurt—she’s grown so much.

However, your mind is lost in the future awaiting you. This visit has made it clearer that you’re really about to push a human from your body in like a month.

Right now, all you hope is that she doesn’t arrive before her due date. You’re not sure you’d be ready just yet—you still need some time to truly realize what’s coming. A baby isn’t a small thing.  

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, noticing how you’re drifting in your own thoughts.

Your eyes lift up to meet his. Even sitting in a car, he looks like a fucking walking dream. You deeply hope your daughter will inherit his good looks.

“Could be better,” you admit.

There’s no point in hiding anything from him. If you have to navigate this together, it’s always best to be fully honest with one another.

“This visit just makes it even more real,” you continue. “She’s going to be here in a month, and it’s terrifying.”

Jungkook turns to face you and rests his huge hands on top of yours. The warmth emanating from his hands instantly soothes you.

“I know,” he begins. “I’m terrified as well, but we’re a super team, and we will manage this together.”

“I know that we’re in this together, but everything scares me, starting with the birth. Do you imagine that I will push her out of my body?” you ask with obvious concern in your voice. “What if everything goes wrong during birth?”

“Yn,” he mumbles with the softest voice, “there will be a medical team ready for any case scenario when you give birth to her. I understand your concern, but don’t forget that you’ll be super well surrounded.” He pauses for a moment, his thumb stroking your hands. “And I’ll be there too.”

“Having you there means already the world to me,” you whisper.

A soft smile appears on his adorable face, and you take one of his hands to press a gentle kiss on top of it. Jungkook has been your rock through it all. Without him, you wouldn’t have survived a week. He’s been taking care of you as nobody has ever before. Both you and your daughter are lucky to have him.

“I’ve something for you,” he tells you, reaching toward the glove compartment in front of you. You shift in your seat to give him room, watching him pull out a small box wrapped with care.

“I know your baby shower is tomorrow,” he continues, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “And technically, I should wait, but I couldn’t.”

Your heart starts to pound as he places the box in your hands. You open it slowly, almost afraid to rush the moment, and then you completely freeze. Inside rests a delicate necklace, a small heart catching the light. Your throat tightens instantly, tears threatening to run down your face.

“Tomorrow, everybody’s going to shower our princess with gifts,” he says softly. “ But I really wanted to give something to you. You’re the one carrying her. You’re the one about to give birth, and you deserve to be celebrated, too.”

For a moment, you can’t speak. You can only stare at the necklace, and then at him, completely overwhelmed by the weight of the gesture. The necklace is, for sure, wonderful, but what truly warms your heart is that he thought of you.

What did you do to deserve this man? How can he even be real?

Jungkook has really made it hard not to fall for him. Every day, he finds new ways to make you fall in love with him again and again. Sometimes you wonder if there will be any space left in your heart for your daughter.

“This is beautiful,” you manage to say, tears streaming down your face. “You didn’t have to.”

His thumb cleans the tears on your face; he hates to see you crying.

“You deserve it, mama,” he murmurs, his hot breath caressing your face. “I feel like I can’t thank you enough for carrying our baby girl. Everything I do seems so little compared to that.”

“It’s not,” you tell him. “You already do so much.”

His thumb strokes your cheek.

“I wish I could do more,” he murmurs before he leans to press the gentlest kiss on your lips.

And somehow, with his sweet words and thoughtful gesture, you feel like he’s just as smitten as you. Maybe you’re not the only one falling madly in love.

A month later – December 2024

Nova is born on December 31st at 2:02 pm.

“Apparently, she didn’t want to share the same birthday as Jesus,” Jungkook’s contagious laugh echoes in the room.

Your eyes fall on his figure—he’s holding your daughter, Nova, in his arms, watching her with literal hearts in his eyes. A smile grows on your face as you watch them both.

“She preferred New Year’s Eve,” you reply.

“Double the celebration,” he jokingly says.

Honestly, you don’t know how you’re still awake. She was born two hours ago and finally fell asleep after you both struggled to put her to sleep. You’re absolutely destroyed from birth, but completely in love with your baby girl.

You’ve been awake since two am, when you felt the first contractions. At first, you didn’t pay much attention because you’d been experiencing them for a couple of days, but as they got more intense, you realized that your baby girl was on her way.

Around five am, you called your midwife asking if you should rush to the hospital, but she advised you to wait until around seven or eight am. You had already waited before calling her, but with the help of Jungkook, you still managed to navigate through the painful contractions until eight am.

The pain only got worse, and you literally begged for the epidural. After that, it was like you were floating. You could still sense everything, but it wasn’t painful anymore.

Jungkook kept you busy all that time—chatting, walking, singing, and dancing with you all along. Honestly, he made it look like time was moving fast. Through it all, he stayed by your side, cheering you up.

The entire medical staff was surprised when they found out you and Jungkook weren’t together. Some even thought you were joking. They told you that you definitely looked like a couple, and they were impressed by his support. One of the nurses told you some horrific stories about some dads disappearing while their partners were giving birth.

When it was time to push, you honestly thought you couldn’t make it, but he encouraged you, telling you repeatedly that you had already done the biggest part. Now it was just a matter of pushing her out.

On top of having a super baby daddy, the medical staff was fantastic. They also encouraged you tremendously through it all and helped you as well when you were literally giving up towards the end.

But looking at her now in her father’s arms makes it all worth it.

Jungkook is shirtless, sitting on a chair next to your bed with Nova against his chest. She seems so tiny against him, his hands almost hiding her completely.   

“This year, I’m for sure not making it to midnight,” you chuckle.  

“Me neither,” he says, his eyes meeting yours.

Even if she were born on her due date, you would have never been able to wait until midnight, you know it. This New Year celebration would have been special in any case, and with her being born on New Year’s Eve, this end of 2024 is even more special.

“Maybe you should try to get some sleep, mama,” Jungkook tells you. “I’ll stay awake, taking care of you both if needed.”

“Thanks, mister dimple,” you reply, smiling at him.

As you look at each other, you know that this day is beyond special. Watching each other become parents deepens what you already feel. Jungkook only admires you even more after witnessing you bring your daughter into the world.

How could he not fall in love with you again and again after something like this?

Six months later – back to June 2025

After Yuna’s birthday party, Jungkook drove the three of you back home. Since you got pregnant, he has decided to rent his apartment—he’s literally been living with you. Having him by your side has made everything a lot easier, and raising Nova together seems simple as ABC.

At the party, you spoke with Darim and finally admitted how down bad you were for Jungkook. Those feelings haven’t been a secret to you, but it was the first time you were saying them out loud. She wasn’t surprised, saying that she had been waiting for you to tell her.

Following her words, Jungkook is as smitten as you, if not more, and she still doesn’t know how, after all this time, you haven’t started dating. You’ve been glued to each other since you found out about the pregnancy, and he’s been literally worshipping the ground you walk on.

Darim encouraged you to speak with him. You are scared that he’d push you away, and it’s the last thing on earth you want right now. You need him. You’re a super team when it comes to taking care of Nova.

“Are you okay, mama?” Jungkook asks while taking Nova out of the stroller.

Even though he’s focused on carefully removing your daughter, his eyes can’t help but look at you.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lower lip.

How are you supposed to tell this man that you love him? It seems impossible. Revealing your feelings would ruin everything, and you’re working perfectly as co-parents.  

Just look at him. He’s holding your six-month-old baby against his chest like she weighs nothing when it’s getting harder for you to hold her. And he looks so effortlessly hot. Being a dad suits him perfectly—no wonder all women can’t help but look at him when he carries her.

“That’s not really convincing,” he tells you while walking in your direction. “You’ve been spacing out since you spoke with Rimy.” 

“I’m not spacing out,” you counter.

Jungkook looks down at your chubby little daughter, “See?” he tells her in a teasing, high-pitched voice. “Your mom has been saying nonsense since she was pregnant with you.”

Nova lets out a delighted giggle, as if she understands every word.

“Jungkook,” you warn him.

His gaze shifts to you, the teasing fading away. “Just tell me what’s going on,” he says gently. “I’m worried.”  

“There’s nothing to worry about,” you say, rolling your eyes.

You disappear into the living room, putting some distance between the two of you. This man makes you so weak. If he keeps pushing, you’ll just give in.

“Yn,” he calls after you, following close behind. “Don’t run away from me.”

No answer comes from your mouth. Instead, you decide to hide in your bedroom, your heart racing inside your chest. Jungkook walks behind you with a giggling Nova in his arms. Apparently, she finds this whole situation amusing. Her little feet are bouncing against his torso, and soft sounds tumble from her mouth.

Once inside, Jungkook closes the door behind him, leaving you no room to escape again. He studies you, concern etched into his features.  

When you finally turn to face them, a smile spreads across your face. Nova has her hand in her mouth, her legs kicking with energy against her dad. If she’s hurting him, he doesn’t show it.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he asks once more, his tone filled with concern.

Your heart thrums inside your chest while you take a deep breath. There’s no escaping this conversation, even if you want to. Jungkook isn’t the kind of man to let things go, especially not when he cares. And right now, it’s painfully obvious that he does.

“I love you,” you mumble, but he doesn’t hear it. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t hear you, yn,” he says, frustratingly, and he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you.

“I love you,” you repeat out loud, heart pounding extremely fast.

Your words catch him off guard, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, only blinking at you. There’s a heavy silence between you; the room is simply filled with Nova’s soft sounds.

Your heart completely breaks as he doesn’t react. Rimy was wrong, he doesn’t love you back—at least not like you love him. You’re convinced that he might love and respect you as a friend and the mother of his daughter, but that’s it.

So to spare you a devastating heartbreak, you leave the room, heading to the apartment’s entrance. You need to get out of this place, put some distance between you and him, and thoroughly think about the future.

“Yn,” Jungkook calls for you when you put your shoes on. “Please, wait. Let me just put Nova in the playpen.”  

If anything, you hurry to run away, putting on your shoes as fast as possible, but it seems that Jungkook is even faster in putting your daughter in the playpen. When you open the door, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from stepping outside.   

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” he rumbles with annoyance.

The second your eyes meet his, you’re caught off guard by the look on his face. His expression isn’t hurt, but you’d say that he’s actually stunned, as if your words knocked the air out of him, and he’s only now remembering how to breathe.  

“I prefer to avoid the tough conversation where you tell me that you’re flattered but don’t feel the same,” you tell him, freeing your wrist from his grip.

Somehow, you manage to remove yourself from his hand and resume getting away. The tears are threatening to run down your face, your heart is beating way too fast, and your hands are shaking. You’re sure you’ll never be able to look at him ever again.

“I love you too,” he says very loudly when you step into the building complex’s corridor.

You instantly freeze. Out of all the answers, you never expected this one. In your head, it was impossible. There’s no way this man loves you back.

“I love you way too much, yn,” he continues. “Please come back inside. We can’t have this conversation here, and we can’t leave Nova alone.”

His words change everything. This isn’t rejection as you expected it to be. It’s the opposite, and you need to hear him out. So, you walk back home. The look on his face breaks your heart. You’ve never seen him like that. It’s like he’s been repeatedly stabbed in the heart.

Jungkook closes the door behind you, but doesn’t let you make any other move, trapping you between the door and his body. Your heart is really ready to burst. You’ll have a damn heart attack before the end of the day.

“You can’t just run away like a thief after telling me ‘I love you’,” he tells him with his deep, husky voice.

“You didn’t react—”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence. “How could I? I was chasing you, dead worried, and you told me that you love me. I was in shock. My brain needed a minute to process the info.”

“I got scared,” you confess.

His hand caresses your cheek, trying to comfort you, and it definitely works.

“And I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It wasn’t my intention.”

For a moment, you close your eyes, leaning your face against his hand.

“I truly and deeply love you, yn,” he admits. “It almost feels like it’s impossible to love someone this strongly.” He takes a deep and shaky breath, and you finally open your eyes to look at him. “I’ve been falling in love with you again and again since the beginning of your pregnancy. Every single thing you do makes me fall even harder. But up until today, I truly believed it was one-sided. I never imagined you felt the same.”

His words take you by surprise, your throat tightening as you swallow. Many thoughts cross your mind, but only one question screams louder than any other.  

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice sounds so weak.

“I guess for the same reasons as you,” he replies quietly. “I was scared of ruining our super co-parenting team, and…” he hesitates to continue. “I was scared of losing you.”  

Your hands rise instinctively to cup his face. “You’d never lose me,” you whisper. “Even if I didn’t feel the same. You’re Nova’s dad.”

His eyes soften, but there’s something raw in his expression. “But I always wanted to be more than that for you,” he confesses with a shaky voice. “I never wanted to be just your daughter’s father.”

Your heart misses a beat, your thumbs brushing over his handsome face. It’s hard to remain composed in front of the man you love.  

“Me too,” you manage to say.

A breathy laugh escapes him, from relief and emotion as well. “I love you so freaking much, mama,” he murmurs. “Nothing has felt the same since the pregnancy. The sex, the kisses—everything felt deeper. It wasn’t just desire. It was me loving you and not knowing how else to say it.”  

“Jungkook,” you murmur.

And then, without wasting any other second, you crash your lips against his. This is overwhelming, in a good way, of course, and you can’t just stay like this without doing anything. Any words you might say will never express your love the same way a kiss would.

You kiss him with your entire soul, letting your emotions take over it. Instantly, your arms wrap around his neck to push him closer to you. This feels like heaven. This feels like the best thing ever.

Darim was right after all. Jungkook loves you as well. Your feelings were reciprocated all this time, but you were too blind to see it.   

The kiss deepens quickly, taking a heated and fervent turn. It represents much more than it has ever been. You’re both in love and aware of it now. It’s filled with even more passion than ever before.

His hands quickly move down to your waist, sneaking under your pants to squeeze your ass. A moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook directly swallows it while kissing you like a starved man.

Nova’s rumbling brings you both down to earth. Taking this any further with a baby very much awake is impossible. She might start crying or doing dangerous things while you both do nasty stuff.

“We should stop before Nova does something wild and hurts herself,” you whisper against his lips.

“Yeah, right,” he takes a step back, running his hand through his hair.

The two of you head back to the living room, where Nova is playfully throwing her favorite stuffed bunny on the floor in her playpen. She looks absolutely adorable.

For the rest of the afternoon, you try to keep your hands to yourselves, but it’s practically impossible. Thankfully, around 6 pm, she falls asleep after breastfeeding, and Jungkook puts her to sleep in her crib, in her own bedroom.

After that, he joins you in your room, and you both just surrender to passion. “Finally,” he mumbles as he walks towards you and closes the door behind him. “Let me just place the baby monitor on the nightstand, and I’m all yours.”

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him take big steps until the nightstand. Once settled, he gets closer to you, lust written all over his face. The two of you stand in front of each other, smiling like idiots. Everything is different now.

“If it wasn’t for Nova,” he whispers, closing the distance between you, “I would have fucked you against that door earlier.” Jungkook leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I would have shown you how fucking happy I am.”

His hand lands on your back, his fingers pressing just a little. His other hand comes up to trace along your jaw, his touch featherlight but so intoxicating.

“You’ve no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of you telling me you loved me back,” he continues, his lips brushing against your cheek as he speaks. “But hearing it for real turned me on so much.”

“You can show me now how fucking happy you are,” you whisper before crashing your lips on his.

His hand on your back pulls you closer, your body pressed against his. Your fingers find their way to his hair to play with it. The kiss deepens almost instantly, driven by the same desperate need building inside you.

Without wasting anymore time, his hand moves to the hem of your pants. His fingers push them down, the fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re now only in your underwear—not your fanciest, but it isn’t your ugliest as well.

Since becoming a mother, you have been using the most comfortable underwear, which most of the time isn’t the prettiest one. The version of you before Nova would have been extremely shocked, as you used to always put on the prettiest matching set of bra and panties. Now, you barely match anything together, even socks. 

“Sit on the bed,” he instructs, and you obey without saying anything.

Once you sit at the edge, Jungkook kneels in front of you, his hands pushing apart your legs. His fingers very slowly trace along your leg, and his lips press featherlight kisses on your thigh. His hot breath and soft fingers against your skin send shivers down your spine.

“You always know what to do,” you mumble, your back slightly arching.

“I’ve been studying this body for more than two years,” he whispers against your skin. “So I know you by heart now.”

His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your underwear, slowly pushing the fabric down. He takes his time, his eyes never leaving you. Once your panties reach your ankles, Jungkook throws the fabric somewhere in the room.

“And I intend to keep studying it,” he adds.

He looks like a damn sin, and that sight alone can make you come right now.

“Please never stop,” you beg.

Jungkook leans back in, “It’s not on my plans, mama.”

His lips graze your skin as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, the warmth of his breath brushing over you. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you firmly in place as his lips finally taste you without hesitation. 

A strangled gasp escapes your mouth, your back arching instinctively as pleasure pulses through you. Your hands also find their way to his hair, tugging it as he eats you out like a starved man.  

“Fuck,” you moan.

Your hips buck forward, pushing his face even closer, and your fingers tighten in his hair as a trail of moans falls from your lips. His mouth works over you with tremendous hunger, tongue torturing you like never before, while his lips seal around your clit. His nose presses into you, dragging against your cunt with each movement.

You throw your head back while moans flow out of your mouth. The growing pleasure is overwhelming but in a fantastic way, and your body trembles beneath his relentless tongue.

“Don’t be too loud, mama,” he speaks against your core. “We don’t want to wake up our princess. It’d be a shame if this had to stop.”

You simply nod, biting your lower lip to try to muffle your moans, but you know you won’t be able to hold back for long. As he said, he knows your body better than you do. He knows how to flick his tongue to have you screaming with pleasure.   

Jungkook is savoring every second, and a satisfied hum vibrates against you, sending shocks through your core. When your fingers tighten in his hair, he takes it as encouragement to push you further.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you barely manage to say because of his tongue working wonders on your core. “I’m going to come.”   

He groans, and he can feel his dick getting more and more compressed in his pants. The way you say his name turns him on in an unbelievable way.

Before you even realize it, your orgasm violently hits you, your legs shaking and squeezing his face, and your walls clenching around emptiness. Even though you’re coming hard against his lips, Jungkook doesn’t stop lapping at your juices.

Once you come down from your high, he pulls away. His face glistens with your slick, his lips swollen, his eyes dark with hunger.

Jungkook stands up before pushing down his pants and underwear. A sigh of relief leaves his lips the second his cock is finally free. It was getting painful to keep it inside his pants.

As he does so, you remove any remaining piece of clothing from your body. Not once does he look away, enjoying the sight unfolding right in front of him. When you’re fully naked, you lean back as you hold yourself with your upper arms, your eyes hungrily admiring the man standing in front of you.

“Someone seems turned on,” you say as your eyes look up to meet his.

Once he’s fully naked, his right hand finds its way to his cock, stroking himself. “I could come with a simple kiss,” he admits, and something inside you twists.

“So I’m the lucky girl who makes you come with a simple kiss?” you ask with a smirk, and he nods.

His grip tightens around his cock, his eyes never leaving yours. The simple fact that he’s masturbating in front of you is an incredible turn-on, but the way his eyes shine with lust gets you incredibly wet. He’s so fucking hot.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll beg you to get me pregnant all over again.”

You notice his jaw flexing as his thumb swipes over the top of his cock, spreading the precum.

“You don’t have to beg, mama,” he tells you. “You just have to ask, and I’ll give you all the babies you want.”

You stand up, a smirk appearing on your face. Without saying anything, you gently remove his hand from his cock, and replace it with yours. Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose as your hand tightens around his shaft before you slowly start to stroke him.

“Mama,” he groans with his deep and rough voice.

“Tell me, dimple,” you say as you get slightly closer. Your other hand traces across his collarbone, a shiver running through his body. “Don’t you like this?”

Your hand moves faster on his shaft, making him groan with pleasure. Fuck, he won’t last long if you keep stroking him like that.  

“I do,” he moans. “I really do, but I won’t last long…”

Jungkook is completely consumed by pleasure, and damn, he doesn’t want to stop you, but he also doesn’t want to come just now. So, he places his hand on top of yours to stop you, and he doesn’t give you time to realize what happens when he lays you on the mattress of his bed, and then his lips crash against yours.

His body presses flush against yours, heat radiating between your bodies as he deepens the kiss. “You drive me absolutely crazy, mama.”  

His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his fingers brushing your jaw. His lips press another kiss on yours before he looks down between your bodies. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking himself one last time.

When you break the kiss, he holds you open as he guides the head of his cock into your sopping entrance. At first, he teases you as he drags the tip through your slick folds, spreading your arousal before finally pushing in with a slow, deliberate thrust.  

A deep moan leaves your throat as he stretches you open. Your walls clench around him as his cock makes its way inside your pussy. Your back instantly arches, your thighs trembling around his waist as he buries himself deeper.

“I’m so addicted to you, mama,” he mumbles the second he looks down, watching the way your body takes him in.

Jungkook pushes himself as far as possible. The second he’s fully inside, he halts to give you both a moment to adjust, but he honestly can’t stay still inside you. It’s absolute torture.

“Can I move?” he asks for your consent.

Even after two years of fucking like rabbits, he always makes sure that you agree with everything that goes on. He’d hate himself if he did something that wouldn’t make you comfortable.

Jungkook slowly pulls back, and he pauses for a second when only the thick head of his cock remains inside. Without any warning, he pushes back. Feeling his thick shaft pushing deeply back into you is beyond satisfying. Damn, it even makes you see stars.

Both of you try to muffle your moans as he starts pounding into you, but it’s basically impossible. This man right here just knows how to drive you completely crazy.  

His pace is restless, your body moving in tandem with his thrusts. His hands grip your waist tight as the room gets filled with the sound of your low moans, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall, your bodies slapping together, and your pussy soaking his cock.

The heat builds in your core as he slams into you, filling you with each thrust. Your hands grip the sheets to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts.

Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this.

His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss while his thrusts grow rougher and quicker. “You drive me crazy,” he whispers against your lips. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too,” you reply. “Like crazily.”  

The familiar coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach while your baby daddy moans your name. He seems just as consumed as you by pleasure. The only thing you’re both focused on now is chasing your high, and the heat between you is unbearable. You both know you won’t be lasting much longer. 

“I’m going to come again, Jungkook,” you manage to say, the desperation filling your voice.

His cock twitches inside you at your words, and well, that action causes your orgasm to crash over you. Your walls squeeze him tight while your orgasm completely and violently hits you. Jungkook groans when he feels your wall squeezing on repeat his cock.  

His thrusts get more desperate as he starts chasing his own high. He’s so fucking close. Jungkook closes his eyes because the simple view of your face contorting with pleasure is just too much. Your walls keep tightening around him, a torture you impose on him to help him cum.

“Fuck,” he groans.

And then, with one last thrust, he falls apart. Deep groans fall from his lips as he releases his hot semen inside you, painting your velvety walls white. His hands tighten around your waist, holding you still while he releases himself deeper in you. He looks incredibly sexy when the orgasm hits him. 

Jungkook collapses next to you in bed. His breathing is heavy, his eyes fixed on the ceiling just like yours. For a moment, you both remain in silence, giving each other the time to come down.

When his breathing is back to normal, he turns his head to look at you. “How do you feel?”

Your face moves, allowing you to meet his gaze. The horny Jungkook is now replaced by a softer version of him, making him look like a baby. Nova has inherited his big, round eyes—the same eyes that always make you melt.

“Great,” you smile, your body moving closer to his.

You rest your head against his chest, and his arms wrap around you.

“This is always great with you,” you admit, your eyes looking up to meet his. “We’re pretty good at sex.”

“But pretty bad at confessing our feelings,” he chuckles.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Very bad.”

One of his hands tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. There’s a moment of silence between you, but it’s far from being an awkward or heavy one. It’s the kind of moment that allows you to fully realize the immensity of the situation.

Jungkook loves you, like really does. And you love him back with the same intensity. This isn’t a dream of yours anymore. This is the reality.

“Now that we know our feelings,” Jungkook begins. “I’d really like to take you on a real date and properly ask you to be my girlfriend.”

“Why can’t you do it now?” you ask with a little smile on your face.

“I think it would be better to do it over dinner in a fancy restaurant, no?” he tells you.

“Honestly, I don’t give two shits about where we are,” you reply. “As long as we are together and we know that we want this, I’m happy.”

The brightest smile grows on his face.

“I wasn’t picturing things like this,” he chuckles lightly. “But would you love to be my girlfriend?”

The answer comes with no hesitation. “I’d love that.”

And just like that, you both found yourselves living the love you’d always dreamed of, falling in love again and again every single day.

You hum, twirling a straw in your iced latte, half-listening and half-focused on the couple next to you who seems to be arguing. “So sorry, Jiminie. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Thank you.” He sighs. “It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen when I inevitably walk into it. You know, when I told Tae to pursue art, I didn’t think it meant this.”

Taehyung and Jimin have the kind of love story that makes romantic comedies look documentary-level realistic. By comparison, your love life is a blooper reel that never made it to air. They’ve been disgustingly in love since senior year of university, and you’ve been their trusty little third wheel. While it’s comforting to hang out with a couple that has a dynamic as healthy as theirs, you do have to fight the pang of jealousy that hits you everytime. 

“Last week it was the sculpture made of kitchen utensils. This week, desert plants. Next week? Probably something with a blow torch,” Jimin carries on, poking at his salad mercilessly. 

You snort. “Tae doesn’t know how to work a blow torch.”

“He could, is my point. He’ll try anything once.” Jimin’s eyes light suggestively, and the gag reflex hits fast and mercilessly. “Like that one time he wanted to try out suspension and—”

“Jimin. Please. I am trying to enjoy my coffee,” you plead. 

He rolls his eyes. “Like you don’t love us.”

“I do,” you reply quickly. “But please spare a girl the details of your sex escapades.”

“Maybe you’re bitter because you need some sex escapades of your own.” Jimin shrugs. He’s not saying it to be rude—the man doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, unless someone’s rude to his fiance. 

Poor Park Jimin has been running a one-man campaign to get you laid for months. The last time you remotely showed interest in a man was a year ago, and that catastrophe ended with you sobbing on their couch for 72 hours straight while Taehyung made you soup and Jimin burned sage to ‘cleanse the toxic energy.’

You have no interest in any of it.

Sure, sex is cool and all, but the idea of the emotional turmoil that comes with the territory seems like something you can do without. 

“What did I say about bringing up this topic again?” you groan. 

“C’mon, please tell me you have something new that’ll make me feel better about my cactus situation.”

Your fingers collect the condensation on your plastic cup, pretending to be deeply engrossed by it. “I have nothing.”

“So as exciting as my cactus?” 

Your foot kicks his ankle under the table and the noise he makes in retaliation is enough to get dirty looks from the other patrons. “Jesus Christ. Aren’t you a ball of fucking sunshine?” he moans in agony. “This is why you need to have sex. You get all crabby and violent when you don’t. When’s the last time you had sex again?”

Okay—there was that guy from the marketing conference in March…. No wait. That was last year. February? No, that was the guy who ghosted you after two dates. January? You weren’t even in the country in January. December feels like a decade ago but that was... oh god, was that really eight months ago? Nine? The guy with the man bun who worked at the bookstore and couldn’t find your— 

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Yikes.” He gives you a dramatic side-eye, one that screams you are a pathetic loser, but lovingly. “You need to stop getting coffee with me and go get coffee with a man.”

You frown. “Well, you’re a man?”

He rolls his eyes. “A man who doesn’t enjoy the good ol’ cock up his ass.”

Fair play. Jimin leans back in his chair, studying you intently. Never a good sign. “You know what your problem is?”

You pick up your latte, taking a few sips. “Enlighten me, Park Jimin.”

“You’re too picky.”

Coffee snorts out of your nostrils, landing right onto the table. Jimin flings napkins at the mess, disgusted. “I’m sorry, have you met me? I’ve went out with some weirdos.”

“No, no, not the weirdos.” He waves a hand in the air. He;s about to go on one of his famous monologues, and all you can do is sit back in horror and watch. “I’m talking about the good ones. The ones you actually like. You find one tiny flaw and suddenly it's ‘oh, he chews too loud’ or ‘he uses the wrong there, their, they're.’ Like, relax. Nobody’s perfect.”

“Really? Says the guy currently plotting his fiance’s death over a home decor choice.”

“That’s different.” Jimin’s pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, something he truly only does when you’ve exhausted his last nerve. “Taehyung and I are past the point of no return. We're in too deep. You, my dear sweet angel, are sabotaging perfectly good opportunities because you're scared.”

Of course, you’ve had this conversation with your therapist numerous times, and you’ll do anything to avoid the topic in your personal life.

But before you can open your mouth to argue, a voice cuts through. It’s low but polite, maybe a little uncertain. 

“Jimin-ssi?”

You don’t bother looking up to see who it is. Jimin knows everyone and their mother, their cousin, probably their dog too. Walking down the street with him is no easy feat, considering half of Seoul stops to talk to him. So, you do what you always do: focus on your phone and ignore the small talk about someone’s new job or whatever mundane life update they’re dying to share.

You scroll through Instagram, half-listening as they exchange pleasantries. Something about the gym, mutual friends, weekend plans. Standard small talk that you've heard a thousand times. 

“Yeah, bro, it’s been forever,” Jimin’s saying. He sounds happier than he normally does when he talks to these people. “I saw your LinkedIn update. How’s the new job treating you? Still insane?” 

“Better now that I’m settled in,” the mysterious voice responds, and there’s something familiar about it that tickles the back of your brain, but you’re too busy watching someone's Instagram story about their breakfast to pay attention. “The team’s chill, and I don’t have to be on call on weekends anymore.”

“You deserve it after all that overtime hell,” Jimin laughs. “Oh, hey, you should totally meet my friend [YN] here. [Y/N], this is Jeon Jungkook.”

Your head snaps up. Your phone falls to your lap. 

What. The. Fuck. 

You haven’t heard that name since high school. 

High school you, to put it mildly, was kind of a bitch.

You were a cheerleader, top of the social food chain. Naturally, you failed a few classes because you were too busy making out with Kim Mingyu behind the bleachers and planning which party to hit up on Friday night to care about things like academic integrity. 

When your GPA started looking tragic enough to threaten your spot as cheer captain, the guidance counselor assigned you a tutor. And since the universe loves to have fun with you, you were paired with Jeon Jungkook. Lanky, awkward Jeon Jungkook, with messy brown hair that looks like he cut it himself with safety scissors, thin silver glasses that slid down his nose every five seconds, and wide, innocent boba eyes. 

All that to say—you did what any mean girl would do and took advantage of him. Batted your eyelashes, laughed at his terrible jokes, and suddenly your chemistry homework was getting done without you having to lift a finger. 

Tests? He'd leave his answer sheet just visible enough for you to copy. 

Lab reports? Practically wrote themselves, if by ‘themselves’ you mean Jungkook wrote them while you filed your nails and complained about how boring science was. 

So, this? This has to be a comedic joke. This is a prank. Jimin is pranking you—it’s an elaborate one, you'll give him that. That's the only logical explanation because there is absolutely no way that the scrawny, stuttering kid who used to turn tomato red everytime you asked him to explain a chemistry problem is now standing here, towering over your table. 

The man who stands before you has a lip piercing, one that hugs the curvature of his pink lips. A sleeve of tattoos that curls down his arm in vivid ink. His hair is perfectly tousled, dark chestnut locks falling into each other. 

And most importantly, those arms. Biceps. He could probably bench press you. Why are you thinking about him bench pressing you? Stop thinking about him bench pressing you. Oh god, you're staring. You're definitely staring. Say something. Anything. Be cool.

He is—there's no other word for it—buff. Like, really buff. 

And he's looking right at you with dark eyes that definitely weren't that intense in high school, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]...” His voice has a deeper timber to it, with a confidence that high school Jungkook could never have. His tone alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine. “It’s been a minute.”

“Uh, I—yeah,” you gulp down a quarter-sized lump that magically appears in your throat. “It has.”

Smooth. Incredibly smooth. Someone needs to hand you a medal for conversational excellence. 

His eyes narrow into slits, like he’s analyzing you and your pathetic life. Sizing you up to discover that you’ve lost all importance in the world, and are now just another girl in the world. 

Jimin, completely oblivious to everything, beams at the two of you. “Amazing! You two already know each other.” He claps his hands together. “Jungkook, you should sit. [Y/N] and I were just catching up on her sad little love life.”

Damn you, Park Jimin. 

Maybe ten years ago, you wouldn’t have cared if he knew about your romantic failures, but with the black shirt hugging his biceps so perfectly, you resent Jimin’s openness. 

“I was not—” you protest, but Jungkook’s already got a hand on the empty chair between you two, plopping into it. 

“Was she now?” Jungkook tuts, looking over at you expectantly. “How sad is sad?”

“Okay, not sad.” You roll your eyes. “It’s just… quiet.”

His eyes dance with amusement, and you sink into the chair. “I can’t imagine you having trouble in this department.”

If only he knew the half of it. 

You open your mouth to combat the embarrassment, maybe to come up with some elaborate lie about how you have three dates lined up tomorrow night, but a server interrupts you before you get the chance. She smiles at Jungkook, and you can't help but note how her eyes twinkle when she realizes how utterly attractive he is. You sink one inch lower into the chair. 

Please don’t order, Jungkook. Ordering means staying and your brain (or your ego, for that matter) can’t take a second more. 

She asks what he wants, pearly whites on display, and he replies smoothly, “Just a black coffee is fine. Thanks, sweetheart.” 

He turns back to you and Jimin, smiling lightly. Behind him, the server trips over her own two feet a bit before adjusting her shirt and walking off. You watch the whole exchange with a weird feeling in your chest. It's not jealousy—you have no claim to be jealous. But it's something. Maybe annoyance that she was so obvious about it. Maybe annoyance that he didn't seem to notice. 

“So, how do you two know each other?” Jimin’s smile resembles a mischievous cartoon villain who just tied someone to railroad tracks. Vibrating with joy, eyes gleaming, the whole nine yards. You don’t even need to hear him speak to know what he’s thinking. 

“High school.” 

You and Jungkook both say in unison, surprising even yourself. He glances over at you before elaborating. “I was her Chemistry tutor.”

The memory alone sends shivers of disgust down your spine. You can still picture it so clearly: high school you in your cheer uniform, sitting across from him in the library with phone in hand, texting Mingyu about whose parents were out of town that weekend while Jungkook explained electron configurations. He’d push his glasses up his nose, stumble over his words when you’d sigh and lean forward, watch him turn crimson red and stutter through the rest of the explanation. 

Evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. 

“You needed a tutor in high school?” Jimin snorts, taking a long sip of his drink. 

“Hey, that shit isn’t easy.” You push his shoulder playfully. 

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair. “Definitely not easy when you’re too busy with cheerleading practice to study.”

“And you were a cheerleader?” Jimin gapes.

“Okay, that’s enough reminiscing for today.”

Jimin raises his hand. “I’m not done reminiscing. I want to hear more about cheerleader [YN].”

Your face falls flat. Luckily, before Jungkook can embarrass you more with tales from a decade ago, the server comes back with his coffee, making sure to toss him the widest smile her pearly whites can muster. 

Jungkook’s lips wrap around the cup. Your eyes just so happen to fall on the movement, on the way they hug the rim. Were they always that kissable or did he get lip filler?

He meets your gaze.

Shit.

You turn back to Jimin, who’s eagerly awaiting more from Jungkook. “What else don’t I know about high school [Y/N]? She’s never told me anything.”

“Well,” Jungkook starts, and by the way his lips curve upwards, you can tell the next anecdote won’t be endearing. “She did ask me once if we could ‘skip the math parts’ of chemistry.”

Jimin bursts out in laughter. “You’re kidding me.”

“In my defense, chemistry is like, ninety percent math,” you retort. “That’s a reasonable request.”

“It really wasn’t,” Jungkook counters, and his grin widens. There’s something almost… predatory about it. Like he’s enjoying watching you squirm. “But then again, you always did think the rules didn’t apply to you.”

For a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. This confidence, this self-assured way he’s teasing you without a hint of anxiety that used to color every interaction, is foreign. 

The absolute worst part of it all is that if he wasn’t currently roasting you for being a shallow human being, this might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

The eye contact, the slight smirk playing at his lips, the veins poking out of his biceps. All of it both excites and confuses you. 

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head, feigning innocence. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, laughs to himself. “Just that some things never really change.”

A pregnant pause fills the space. Jimin’s eyes dart between you two like he’s at the US Open and this is the match of the century. 

“You know, she also once asked me if atoms were contagious," Jungkook adds, turning to Jimin like you’re not even there. It’s a fucking power play—one that high school you invented—and you hate how effective it is. 

A long exhale leaves your mouth, and you have to bite back a thousand venomous words in retaliation. Jimin laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. In college, she asked me if square roots were plants.” 

Okay, so math wasn't your strongest suit. Sue a girl. 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around his cup, taking a quick sip. They’re bigger than you remember, rougher, with calluses to match. 

Truthfully, everything about him is just… more. Bigger, broader, bolder.

You shift gears, clearing your throat to interrupt whatever powwow Jungkook and Jimin have going on regarding your academic life. “What do you do now?” 

“Software development.” Jungkook almost seems surprised that you have an interest in his life. “Started at a startup, but I just moved to a bigger company.”

“What kind of software?” you ask mindlessly, happy to have the attention finally off you. 

“Mobile apps. Some web development.” Jungkook shrugs like it’s nothing, but you catch the hint of pride in his tone. “Nothing crazy.”

Jimin chimes in, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, [Y/N] works in marketing for a tech company. You guys probably have tons in common now.”

You want to sink through the floor. Actually—scratch that. Sinking through the floor isn’t enough. You need the floor to open up, swallow you whole, digest you, and then launch whatever remains into the sun. 

You can see exactly what's happening here. You can see the gears turning in Jimin’s pretty little head. He’s planning your wedding, probably picking out centerpieces. He thinks this whole encounter is fate, some kind of romantic star-crossed lovers nonsense where the nerd gets the girl who was too stupid to notice him the first time around. 

He’s going to be insufferable about this. Probably loop Taehyung into this delusion as well. There will be betting pools on when you finally hook up with Jungkook. 

Which—okay, fine—you wouldn’t be completely opposed to. Hypothetically. In theory. 

“How’s that going for you?” Jungkook turns to you. 

“Good. I’ve been at my current company for a few years now. I just got promoted last year.” Your chest puffs out a little. There’s nothing you need to prove to him. But it doesn’t hurt, especially as he validates your words with a slight nod in approval. 

“That’s awesome. I’m happy for you.”

Not said with even an inch of malice. 

“Thank you.” You flip your hair over your shoulder. “See, and I didn’t even need math or chemistry to be successful.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough.”

“I know how emotionally tolling it was to tutor me, so at least your efforts didn’t go to waste,” you joke, and he cracks a smile at that, bunny teeth poking out. 

“It wasn’t that emotionally tolling.” He shrugs, lifting his coffee to his lips. “It was fun. Y’know, when you weren’t texting that guy you used to date.”

He maintains eye contact with you as he takes one, two sips, and you have to clench your thighs to ignore the second heartbeat that’s beating in your vagina. 

Jimin opens his mouth—probably to ask approximately eight thousand invasive follow-up questions about your high school love life—but his phone buzzes violently against the table, the vibration loud enough to rattle his fork. 

Glancing down at his phone, his expression shifts from pure glee to actual panic. “Shit, I need to head out. Taehyung’s making dinner and if I’m late, he’s gonna put that weird purple pesto in it again.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Purple pesto?”

“You know how he is, babe.” Jimin frantically flags down the waiter, motioning for the check. 

You and Jimin always split Saturday brunch. It’s a tradition, one that you don’t plan on breaking. You reach for your wallet in your bag, prepared to pull out your trusty debit card.

But before you or Jimin can get too far, Jungkook smacks his AMEX Platinum card down like it’s nothing. 

You blink at the shiny metal. “Jimin and I always—”

“I’ve got it,” he says, all casual, like dropping 100,000 won on lunch for three people is normal for him. 

To your left, Jimin has the biggest shit-eating grin of all time. “Thanks, Jungkook. You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s my treat. It’s nice to run into old friends.” He tosses you a side glance when he says the word friends, because that’s hardly what you two ever were. 

Jimin’s phone buzzes again, and his eyes widen as they scan the new message. “Oh no. No, no, no.” 

“What?!” You lean forward, trying to peek at his phone. 

“Yeontan threw up all over the new rug. Taehyung just sent me a picture, it’s…” He makes a sour face. “I gotta go. Code red dog situation.”

“Is he okay?” you ask, because despite Jimin’s dramatics, that little ball of fur is your ray of sunshine. 

“He’s fine.” He stands, shrugging on his thin sweatshirt. “He probably ate something he should have. This was great though! We should all hang out again soon!”

And then he’s sprinting out of the cafe, leaving you all alone at the table with none other than Jeon Jungkook. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d say Jimin planned this. Although, to be fair, you do know better, and he one hundred percent planned this. You're going to kill him. You're going to actually murder your best friend.

The waiter comes by, charging Jungkook’s card while you sit there awkwardly, twiddling your fingers. You don’t know what to do with yourself, quite frankly. 

“Jimin isn’t very subtle,” Jungkook says, signing the receipt and placing it aside. 

“Jimin doesn’t do subtle.” You fidget with your napkin. “He probably planned this.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You think so?”

“I know so. He’s been trying to set me up with someone for months.”

Crossing his bulky arms over his chest, he leans back in his chair. “How’s that working out for him?” 

“Well,” you begin, “Considering the last attempt was one of his coworkers who turned out to be married, I would say pretty terrible.”

“Jesus.” 

“I’m not really into the whole polyamory thing,” you joke. 

Jungkook laughs and stands, and you follow suit, realizing how much taller he is than you. Not that he hasn’t always been tall, but now he has the ego to match it. 

“Want me to walk you to your car?” he asks. 

You bashfully look down at your feet. In your years of living in Seoul, you’ve never once been embarrassed about taking the bus before. The Korean bus system is efficient and better for the environment. But Jungkook, with his fancy tech job, probably has some sleek car that makes the bus system look like a clown car. 

“I took the bus, actually.”

Immediately, without so much as a second thought, he goes, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t need to—”

“I know I don’t need to.” He strolls towards the exit, holding the door open for you to glide through first. “I want to.”

Wait. Is he… is he flirting? That was definitely flirting, right?

If he is very specifically flirting with you, that means he either has a terrible memory or some kind of revenge plot in the works. Both options seem likely and panic-inducing. 

When you finally get outside, the crisp afternoon air dances across your skin. The autumn leaves crunch beneath your feet. You keep a few inches for God between you and Jungkook, and he falls into a comfortable pace beside you, matching you. 

His hands are nestled into his pockets, kicking leaves as he walks. Now that you two are alone, he’s returned to some of his old habits, like being quiet around you when there’s nothing to fill the noise with. 

“How do you like your job?” he finally decides upon asking, and your head lifts to peer at him. He’s gazing at you intently, clearly waiting for an answer. 

“I like it. Most days, it’s creative, but we do a good amount of analytical work too.”

“Why did you choose marketing?” He seems genuinely interested in your answer, which sends tingles down your spine. It’s been a while since someone has cared enough to ask about your life beyond the standard two questions. 

“Well, you know I suck at math,” you start, and he laughs at that. A deep sound that reverberates in his chest and makes your insides mushy. “I also hate science, so that wasn’t an option. I like being creative, and I’m a visual person. I took an intro class and it stuck.”

He nods, soaking it in. “Was college you the same as high school you?” 

You know what he’s asking. Was college you also the biggest bitch alive, or did you grow out of that phase?

“Nah.” You shake your head. “I’m not as shallow… or annoying.”

He smiles. “Good to know.”

You reach his car—a black BMW that looks like it was ripped right off the set of Fifty Shades of Grey—and he unlocks it with a soft beep. 

“Your car is nice,” you note, and his cheeks turn a soft pink at the compliment. 

“Thanks. I figured I should probably upgrade from the bus at some point.” He opens the passenger door for you, causing you to almost trip getting in at the sheer thoughtfulness. 

You frown. “Hey! I still take the bus.” 

He raises his hands up in surrender. “Not hating on the bus. I took that bad boy for years.”

Jungkook closes your door, rounding the car to the driver's seat and hopping in. the inside of the vehicle smells like leather, mixed with the faint scent of his cologne. Your brain can’t help but go a little fuzzy—scents are your weakness. Any man who smells good deserves to get their dick sucked, period. 

“Address?” he asks, starting the engine. 

You give it to him, and he inputs it into the GPS. Fifteen minutes, it spits back. Fifteen minutes in a car alone with Jeon Jungkook, the most confusing blast from your past. 

Peeking over at him, you take his appearance in. His jaw is defined and sharp. Could probably cut glass on that thing. His nose juts out, big enough for you to wonder if he’s ever let a girl sit on his face. God, you really need to get laid. You’ve resorted to sexualizing the man you used to tease in high school like some kind of medieval man who just saw an ankle for the first time. 

The guilt of your past sits heavy in your chest, but your body doesn’t seem to care. It wants what it wants, ethics be damned. 

You don’t deserve to be this turned on by someone you treated like human furniture for two years. But here you are, wondering about the logistics of his face between your thighs, and maybe that makes you exactly as terrible as you’ve always suspected.

Your eyes wander down to his biceps, down to his arms that are cluttered with tattoos. Different designs snake down his skin, some with color, and it takes all your might not to reach out and trace them. Fuck, now you’re thinking about his hands gripping the steering wheel. The veins. Those long fingers— 

“You have a lot of tattoos,” you blurt out. 

His eyes remain on the road, but his lips curl upwards. A little bit like a smirk. “I do.”

“When did you start getting them?” you wonder aloud. 

“College. I started with one, but then I got addicted and kept going.” He glances at you for a second before turning his attention back to the road. “You disapprove?” 

“No! No, they’re… they look good. Really good.” You want to die. “But it is different from what I expected from you.”

His gaze hardens. “A lot of things are different from high school.” 

Silence fills the air as you two continue along the highway in the direction of your neighborhood. Your town is quaint, not too far outside of the main downtown area of Seoul. It’s so peaceful that your neighbors are two elderly women who treat you like their daughter. 

You wonder where Jungkook lives. If you had to guess, he probably lives in Gangnam, the upscale area  in Seoul. Fancy tech job, fancy car… he must have a fancy house to match. Or a fancy girlfriend. 

“Do you live near here?” you ask, hoping to sound as casual as possible. Although, realistically speaking, there is nothing casual about interrogating your ex-Chemistry tutor. 

“Not too far. I’m about ten minutes by car.” His grip loosens on the wheel a little. “Near Hannam-dong.”

So, you were kind of right. Hannam-dong, where all the celebrities and rich people live.

Before you can stop yourself, you say, “Do you live alone, or…?”

It’s possibly the least subtle question in the history of subtle questions, but you need to know.

Jungkook’s grip on the wheel tautens, and when you look over at him, there’s a scarlet flash creeping up his neck. “I—yeah. Alone. It’s just me.”

Is he… blushing? 

“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound too pleased by the information. “That’s really cool. I mean, not cool that you’re alone if you don’t want to be alone, but cool that you have your own space and— y’know, everything.” 

Nailed it. 

“It’s—yeah, it’s good.” He clears his throat, and suddenly, you get a glimpse of the man you remember in high school. Less like the confident, macho guy from the cafe, and more like the boy who used to stumble over his words when you asked him questions. “No one to, uh, bother me or anything. Not that having anyone would be bothering, I just meant—I live alone. No girlfriend or—”

He stops himself, like he’s just realized what he’s saying, and the flush spreads to the tip of his ears. Oh my god. He’s flustered. Jeon Jungkook, with his tattoos and lip ring and his whole sexy confident energy, is flustered because you asked if he lives alone.

The ex-mean girl in you rises to the surface, bubbles in your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve activated her. Not since college, that one time when Park Eunji threatened your spot as sorority president. That version of you knew exactly what to do: touch his arm, squeeze once, watch him stutter. Make him want you so badly it hurts, then pull away. It's muscle memory, this kind of manipulation. You hate that it's still there, your instinct to weaponize attraction.

You want him to be nervous around you. It’s a sick, twisted thought you have, and you don’t know where it comes from, but you want it. “No girlfriend,” you repeat, trying to hide your smile. Reaching out, you place a small hand on his bicep, squeeze once. His bicep is firm under your palm, and the second you make contact, you realize what you've done. That was flirting 101. High school you would’ve done that without thinking twice, but current you? Current you doesn’t have that kind of game anymore. Abort mission. Abort. 

You yank your hand back to your lap like he’s made of volcanic ash. 

“I didn’t—that’s not—” He runs a hand through his locks, messing it up even more. “I’m just giving context about my living situation.”

“No, I got it.” You keep your eyes trained on the road, even though your heart is doing somersaults in your chest. “Though, I have to admit, I’m shocked.”

He gulps thickly. He pulls up to a red light, finally looking over at you directly. There’s vulnerability in his expression, polar opposite to his earlier reactions to you. “Are you making fun of me?”

Huh. You don’t know why, but the fact that old, anxious Jungkook still lives somewhere deep within him makes your stomach backflip. “I would never,” you reply dramatically, waving your hand for emphasis. “I’m just speaking aloud.”

Jungkook hums at that, focusing his attention back onto the street. It’s quiet again, if not for the sound of the engine purring and the awkward tension that’s loitered in the car since you stepped inside. 

He doesn’t need to ask you anything else anyway, since Jimin did a good job of outing you as the most single girl in the history of single girls. He might as well have just admitted you’re a born again virgin. 

The familiar road of your neighborhood looms ahead, and a pit of despair swallows your stomach whole. You really don’t want to get out of the car that smells like him. It would be embarrassing how you’ve begun to thirst over him, but after not getting laid in a while, you’re about ready to unzip your pants and jam your fingers in there. 

“Is it the building up ahead?” he questions, pointing to the cream apartment complex that you reside in. You nod sweetly, smiling brightly. You dial up the ol’ high school charm. 

“Thanks, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.” Another quick flutter of your lashes as he puts the car in park, taking a deep breath and angling his body to look at you. 

“Of course. Anytime.” His face remains stoic, probably hoping to not look like you affect him anymore than you already have.

Your fingers land on the handle, pushing it open to let the brisk air in, replacing the suffocating tension in the car. “Well, I wish you the best. It was nice running into you today.” 

Maybe you should invite him to come up. Maybe you should invite him for a nightcap? Granted, it is midday and there’s no actual alcohol in your home, but you can think of something real quick. 

But he doesn’t move toward you, or show any other inclination of interest. In fact, you’re feeling kind of slutty right about now. He probably thinks you’re some kind of embarrassing gold digger—which like, yes, you might be. For him only. 

Quietly, he says, “You too,” and that’s the end of that. 

And just as you’re about to slam the passenger door shut and head upstairs to scream into your pillow, Jungkook abruptly speaks. “[Y/N].”

You whip around as fast as your body will let you. “Yeah?” 

His big eyes twinkle under the sunlight rays reflecting on the car, two bunny teeth poking out as he sheepishly smiles. You’re going to have fantasies about that mouth later. 

“Just so you know, today wasn’t planned. But I’m really, really happy I ran into you.”

Huh Yunjin’s birthday bash has never been an easy feat. Every year, without fail, there’s a table bought at an exclusive club, and your entire friend group blacks out within the hour. You’re not sure how she gets away with it, but your love for her and mild fear of disappointing her clearly gets her very far. 

Hence why you’re standing in a shopping mall at 3 PM, trying to decipher what makeup product she would like best. Her birthday gift needs to be top notch, because you’re up against Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, and those two have some kind of gaydar for gift-giving. Last year, Taehyung got her a vintage Chanel bag he “just found” at a thrift store. The year before, Jimin surprised her with tickets to see Beyonce. You’re operating at a disadvantage here.

You pick up another lipstick, eyeing the two intensely. A salesperson loiters over your shoulder, waiting to pounce at any given moment. In the end, you opt for a sleek red lip gloss, one that you know will pair well with her peachy skin. The relief that washes over you at finally securing her gift is endless. 

Pushing past the doors of the shop, you blend into the rest of the mall-goers. It’s pretty packed for an afternoon, but you figure it has something to do with the sales going on. 50% off for shoes… hm. Across the way, you see a sign for 25% off scarves, and you squint to try and make out the tiny writing. Buy one, get one free—

“Oof!”

Your body collides into something firm, something warm. It’s fleeting, and you jump back several feet, immediately armoring yourself with numerous apologies. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going—”

A deep chuckle. “I’m not mad about it.”

You know that voice. That voice has been haunting your wet dreams and your poorly-written mental fanfiction.

When you were ten, you got chosen to attend a unicorn retreat. It was a glorified horse camp, but it was five days of pure magic. Horses walking around with plastic horns on their head, offering unlimited rides to anyone who wanted one. Magical doesn’t even feel like the proper word to describe it. 

You thought that was the most enchanting moment of your life. But this… this rivals any stupid pony. This makes those ponies look like donkeys. In fact, with the luck you’ve been given, you might rent a unicorn and a castle. 

In front of you stands Jeon Jungkook, looking somehow more scrumptious than he did a few days ago. Defying the damn laws of hotness. You’d spent a good few hours tossing and turning in bed, dreaming about his lips, his eyes, his veiny hands. He looks like he stepped straight out of your wet dream, adorned in a zip-up sweatshirt and black t-shirt, fluffy hair askew. 

His eyes still carry that same twinkle from the last time you saw him, and you wonder if they’re like this all the time, or if it's just for you. 

“Hi,” you exhale breathily. 

“Hello.” He smiles at you, and it’s sweet, just a little dopey, and so decidedly adorable that you want to gnaw on his cheeks like a dog with a chew toy. “Must be my lucky day to run into you again.”

“Clearly.” He is flirting. Sure, there were doubts in your mind before this, but anyone who says those kinds of things, is someone who wants to be balls deep inside you. “I don’t normally treat pedestrians like bumper cars, though.”

Jungkook laughs at that, a melodic sound that sends vibrations from your head to your toes. “If I was a better man, I might’ve moved out of the way to make room for you.”

“Well, then I guess it’s my lucky day you’ve decided to not be a better man,” you counter, and he takes a step closer to you, allowing the people behind him to filter around. A mom of three tosses him an evil glare, but you could care less. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you again so I could ask you a question.” His eyes bore into you, the eye contact making the walls of your vagina contract incessantly. His confidence from the cafe has returned with a vengeance, and you’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but you hope it never leaves. 

“I might have an answer,” you tease. 

His lips quirk upwards into a soft smirk, one that would normally disgust you but doesn’t whatsoever. “I was thinking you and I should get dinner sometime. Maybe catch up one-on-one.”

If this were a game of tennis, you just won match point. He served, you returned, and now the ball’s sitting in his court while he watches it roll away. Checkmate. Victory. Crowd goes berzerk. 

But you know how to play this game. Even though you’re a little out of commission, you still invented half the rules in high school. And rule number one: never let them see you sweat. Rule number two: make them work for it. 

Tilting your head, you pretend to consider it like you haven’t thought about what underwear you would wear to this hypothetical one-on-one time. “Maybe,” you say, drawing out the syllables. “I’ll have to check my calendar.” 

Your calendar is wide open. Your calendar has been wide open for months. Your calendar is begging for plans. Your calendar is weeping with joy at the possibility of having something on it besides ‘therapy 2 PM’ and ‘don’t forget your lexapro.’

But here’s the thing: if you say yes immediately, if you're too eager, too easy, he’ll figure it out. He'll realize you're still that girl who only wants things because they're shiny and new, who gets bored the second the chase is over. Except this time, the thing you want isn’t a spot on the homecoming court or the captain of the basketball team’s attention—it’s him. 

“Maybe?” He’s grinning now, full teeth, like he’s finally been let in on how the game works. “I pour my heart out and I get a maybe?” 

“You didn’t pour your heart out. You asked to get dinner.”

He scoffs, “Same thing.”

“Not even remotely close, lover boy.” You migrate an inch backwards, so miniscule he hardly notices.

Something flickers across his face at the nickname—amusement, or something darker, more interested. His eyes track your movements like a predator watching prey. 

“I feel like you’re just testing fate at this point,” he jokes. You can see the gears turning in his head, shifting and transforming to try and get to his end goal: you. 

“It’s worked once before already.” You shrug, taking a few more steps back. 

“Alright, well, can I at least get your number? Not really feeling like leaving it all up to the universe.” The color drains from his face slowly as he realizes you’re really, truly, going to walk away. His voice raises a little at the end of the sentence. 

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

With that, you turn on your heel, bags in tow, and make your way towards the exit of the mall with what you hope exudes confidence, and not like someone who’s about to sprint outside and scream into the void. His eyes burn into your back the entire way. Don’t turn around. You’re doing so well. You’re a mysterious enigma. You’re unattainable. 

You trip over your own two feet and have to do some weird stumble-hop recovery move just so you don’t eat shit in the middle of the mall.  

Okay, so maybe not entirely mysterious. But you do make it outside with a goofy grin on your face, caught in some kind of daze, all because your ex-Chemistry tutor has made it abundantly clear he wants to see you again. 

The following Saturday, you and Jimin cozy up at a nearby cafe—a different one than last week’s. You suggested it over text a few days ago, after you had run into Jungkook, because there was some perverse thrill to testing fate and the universe’s weird way of working. Jimin, who could care less where he got his cup of coffee, agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“So, tell me again why you didn’t give him your number,” Jimin furrows his brows, picking at his limp salad in disgust. He’s trying this new diet that only allows for 1000 calories a day, and it’s made him even more judgmental than usual. “Walk me through your thought process here.”

You sigh. “Jiminie, I told you already. I’m playing the game.”

“The game… I hate straight people.”

“Hey, you did the same thing with Tae when you guys first started out,” you frown, taking a prolonged sip of your iced latte. Senior year, Jimin refused to see Taehyung more than once a week in fear of seeming too desperate and clingy, even though he texted him every five minutes anyway. 

Jimin lets out a long-suffering sigh, pushing the soggy lettuce into the corner of his plate. “Tae and I are different. We’re homosexuals. There’s no rules when society already hates you anyway. But you are playing a dangerous game with him.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “I’m not. I’m playing hard to get.”

“How do you know he won’t get bored?” It’s an innocent question that, when asked, makes you want to bash your head into a concrete wall. “I mean, you’ve seen the guy. He probably has a roster of girls throwing their phone number at him.”

You pause mid-sip, straw frozen against your lips. You… hadn’t actually thought about it like that. In your mind, this whole thing has been about you trying to regain an inch of the upper hand, about making Mr. Cocky work for it. But Jimin's right—Jungkook isn’t the same nerdy kid who would wait around forever for a crumb of your attention. You’re also not the cheerleader that everybody’s dying to get their hands on. He could have anyone, and yet his sights are set on you (or well, as far as you know).

“Then I guess we’ll just have to see how into me he is.” You shrug, but no ounce of you feels calm. 

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. “Really? Off of one conversation after ten years, he’s supposed to be magically in love with you?” 

“Okay, first of all, it was two conversations, and second of all, do you have no faith in your hot and sexy best friend?” You swish your hair for good measure, but Jimin doesn’t buy it for a second. Your charms have no effect on his gay self. 

“I do have faith in you. However, I can’t recall the last time you’ve successfully kept a guy around after the first kiss…” he trails off, pretending to count on his fingers. You gasp, appalled by the insinuation. 

“Park Jimin,” you scold. He bursts into a fit of laughter, wiping faux tears from his eyes, and you really can’t help but follow suit at the hysterics of it all. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m honest, babe,” he says through another fit of giggles. “You hate to see it.”

“Jimin? [Y/N]?” 

The laughter dies down within a millisecond. Somewhere in the distance, you swear you hear a record scratching. 

Tentatively, you crane your neck upwards. Lo and behold, Jeon Jungkook stands before your table, holding an iced coffee and looking between you and Jimin in bewilderment. He must have a tracker planted inside you, because although you had daydreamed about this scenario approximately ten times in the past few days, never did you actually think it would come to fruition. 

“Why are you here?” you blurt, and Jimin throws you a glare, facepalming. You slap a hand over your mouth. You have the sudden, embarrassing, debilitating urge to vomit. 

Jungkook laughs, and you notice the tip of his ears turning pink. “I could ask you the same thing. This is my regular spot.”

“This is—” You glance around the cafe, like the answer will appear written in invisible ink. “Since when?” 

“Since I moved to the area?” He’s donning a massive grin now, one that lights up his entire face. 

Your face falls flat. In your frantic search for a new cafe, you neglected the fact that the new spot you selected is located in Hannam-dong. Exactly where he told you he lived last week. 

Jimin’s completely forgotten his salad, jumping in to save you from the depths of shame. “Jungkook! Join us.” He’s already pulling out an empty chair before he can protest. 

Jungkook shakes his head, the hoop earrings in his ear moving with him. “I don’t want to interrupt—”

“Don’t be silly,” Jimin retorts quickly, shooting you a look that both screams: you’re an idiot and this is fate knocking at your door. “Come, sit here.”

Jungkook hesitantly sets his drink down, sitting down in the chair. “So, what were you guys laughing at before?” 

You blink a few times, utterly speechless. There’s no universe in which you admit to Jungkook what you two were discussing before his appearance. 

“Nothing crazy,” Jimin starts, and he has this glint in his eyes he only gets when he’s about to do something so diabolically crazy you’ll have to second-guess your friendship. “She was just telling me about this guy she’s playing hard to get with. Real shame, honestly. He sounds great.”

What the fuck is going on? you ask yourself silently. Your mind is shooting blanks. 

Jimin sips his water nonchalantly as if he didn’t just throw you under the bus. 

You finally muster up the courage to speak. “Jimin’s being crazy,” you say, trying to recover some dignity. “There’s no guy.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s smirk is unrattled. “At the mall, you said you had to check your calendar. It sounds like you’re pretty busy.”

Oh, he wants to play this game.  

“I am busy.” You lift your chin in defiance. 

“Doing what?” Jimin chimes in. After this lunch date, he’s lucky if you ever respond to one of his texts ever again. “You texted me yesterday saying you were bored.”

“I hope you die, Park Jimin,” you mutter.

He turns to Jungkook, a conspiratorial grin plastered on his face. “She’s playing hard to get. I told her it's a terrible strategy, but does she listen? No.”

Jungkook’s eyes don’t waver from your face. “Hard to get, huh?” 

“That is not what I’m doing,” you huff, even though that’s exactly what you’re doing, and all parties present at the table know it.

“No, it makes sense.” Jungkook nods, leaning forward in his chair. “After all, you have that busy calendar… you know, the one you need to check.”

“Exactly,” you agree. 

“And have you? Checked it, I mean?”

You stare blankly at him. 

“I’ve been meaning to.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hums, sipping his coffee. The white t-shirt and grey sweatpants combo he’s wearing today makes you feel like a rabid animal who’s been deprived of food for too long. “Who’s the lucky man?” 

“Get this,” Jimin jumps in eagerly. “She met him at the mall.”

“The mall?” Jungkook asks incredulously, dropping his chin into his open palm. 

“And she didn’t even give him her number.” Jimin continues this charade as if you’re not even sitting there. Which, you really wish you weren’t. In fact, you might just bury yourself six feet under this cafe after everything’s said and done. 

“Wow,” Jungkook tuts. “I hope that guy gets her number somehow.”

“Seems like a long shot.” You shrug, fiddling with your straw. 

“Right. I mean, we can’t forget about fate, because fate’s probably working in that guy’s favor.”

It hits you square in the chest, that Jungkook really does know exactly what he’s done, that he is perfectly aware of the effect he has on you. 

​​There's a pause. A long pause. Jimin is grinning like the Cheshire cat, and you're seriously considering faking a medical emergency.

Jungkook’s biceps strain against his shirt, tongue darting out to play with his lip ring. “You know what I think?” His voice drops several octaves, low enough for you and Jimin to hear. “I think this guy should just show up at your door. Skip all the games.”

“That would be weird,” you quip. 

“Would it?” Tilting his head, Jungkook observes you. Feels like he’s seeing right through you with x-ray goggles. “Even if you’ve been thinking about him too?” 

You’re painfully aware of how close he is, how his knee is almost touching yours under the table, how his eyes keep dropping to your lips. Your brain is short-circuiting. You can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything except stare at him and wonder what would happen if you just gave in.

“There’s rules to be followed,” you finally mumble. 

“Rules for what?” Jimin snorts. 

In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the smartest excuse you could’ve conjured up. No one seems to understand the dying art of playing hard to get anymore. 

But, really, it was only a matter of time before you lost your temper and threw in the towel. You were never good at winning anything besides cheerleader championships, anyway. “The game, Jimin. The fucking game I explained to you already. Just so we’re all clear, by the way, I was trying to enjoy my lunch before you two decided to gang up on me, so thank you both very much.”

Jimin and Jungkook deadpan, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

Embarrassment courses through your veins, choking your throat. It’s not like you meant to have an outburst and openly admit you’re playing the game with Jeon Jungkook, a man who you used to ignore as if he were invisible. Sometimes a girl gets sexually frustrated and it manifests in interesting ways. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you grumble. You speed-walk as fast as your legs will take you, all the way to the restroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and plopping down on the toilet. You can’t pinpoint why you’re suddenly overcome with some silly desire to win this ‘game’ you conjured up in your head, why you won’t just give in to what he so clearly wants to offer you. 

But maybe—and you don’t want to admit it—there’s a residual guilt that lives deep inside you. One that when you really face, reminds you of just how cruel you were to others in high school. There was a time in your teenage life where you thought being the queen bee of high school meant you were at the apex of the universe. Now that the tables have turned, and you’re not as big as you once were, maybe you don’t deserve what the universe is trying to offer you. 

Maybe you don't deserve what Jeon Jungkook is trying to offer you.  

It’s Sunday, but it’s hardly peaceful or restorative. Saturday night was spent partying with Yunjin and Chaewon at some club in Gangnam that served drinks comparable to battery acid, which is why you’re currently battling the worst hangover of your entire life. Your head is pounding so hard you can hear your heartbeat in your eyeballs. And you're pretty sure you're still drunk, which means the real hangover hasn't even hit yet. 

There’s no one to blame but yourself. Your brain was a broken record last night: Jungkook, high school, the game. The only way to stop the endless loop was to wash it down with copious soju shots.

Groggily, you roll over and unplug your phone from the charger. A quick scroll through your missed notifications and it’s the usual suspects: Jimin, Yunjin, Taehyung…

Wait. 

Your eyes squint into slits, trying to make sense of the unknown number that sent you one message at 8 AM. You don’t recognize it. Spam, probably. Or maybe someone from last night asking if you got home okay. You don’t remember giving your number to anyone, but then again, you don't remember much after midnight.

You unlock your phone, rub your eyes, and adjust to the bright white light of your messages. 

+823137565798 waited ten years to run into you again, [Y/N]. im not really interested in waiting another ten to see if fate brings us together a fourth time

It doesn’t take much time for you to put together the puzzle pieces. 

You gasp, nearly flinging yourself off your bed at the realization. You reread the message one, two, three times, just to confirm he really said your name in it. You try to do a little excited kick under your covers, but your legs are tangled in your sheets and you nearly fall off the bed.

After yesterday’s temper tantrum, you had exited the bathroom to see Jeon Jungkook no longer present at the table. Jimin shrugged, said ‘he was tired, so he went home,’ and that was the end of that. You were under the impression that you ruined the entire charade, that you wouldn’t have to worry about the game because you already lost anyway. 

But here he is, in your messages, contradicting your worst fears. 

you who’s this?

Squealing, you throw your phone to the side, but within a few seconds, it lights up again with a new message. 

+823137565798 wild guess?

you my amazon package?

You snort as you watch him read it and begin typing. 

+823137565798 close. even better 

An unwarranted smile sneaks its way onto your face. 

you enlighten me

+823137565798 it’s your ex chemistry tutor from high school. that weird dude 

you weird dude is how you’re choosing to introduce yourself?

+823137565798 trying to be humble 

+823137565798 so about yesterday

Your hangover creeps back into your skull, your head pounding to the beat of a drum.

you we don’t need to talk about yesterday

+823137565798 why not?

you because i embarrassed myself?

+823137565798 you didn’t. thought it was cute

+823137565798 may have also told your best friend i needed your number in the name of saving you from your drought, so you’re not the one who embarrassed themselves 

Staring at the message, your alcohol-riddled brain struggles to make sense of the words in front of you. Heat spreads from your chest to your neck to your cheeks. The guilt tries to claw its way up—you don’t get to feel this giddy, not about him—but your body overrules it with a decisive vote. Your hangover is completely forgotten now, replaced by a warm flutter in your stomach that has nothing to do with last night's tequila.

It’s so unlike him, the polar opposite of what Jeon Jungkook used to evoke in you, but the mere thought of him ending your sex drought sends a tingle down your spine. 

You’re grinning like a foolish schoolgirl now, dignity be damned. You save his number to your contacts, makes it official in your brain. 

you are you offering to get me out of my drought? 

You fling your phone to the opposite side of the bed, and scream into your pillow. 

The buzz causes you to shoot back up, heart thumping in your throat as you read his response. 

jungkook possibly 

Somewhere in the sky, your guardian angel is doing backflips. 

Hands shaking, heart pumping blood erratically, you type back:

you take a girl to dinner first

The three dots pop up almost immediately, and then: 

jungkook tried that already. the girl ran away from me :/ 

Technically, he’s right. You did run away. And now he’s resorted to joking about it, like it doesn’t bother him. But it should bother him. Should annoy him that the girl who didn’t acknowledge his existence in high school is now playing games with him like she has any right to. 

You don’t know how to let him be nice to you, how to let him want you, when all you can remember is a younger you rolling your eyes while he patiently explained molecular bonds. You were cruel. Mostly in small ways that probably hurt more than massive shows of dismissiveness, but harsh nonetheless. 

Guilt sits burdensome in your chest, a thorn in your side. Deep down, you’re terrified that when he finally sees you clearly—really sees you, not the filtered version you're trying to present—he’ll realize what you already know. That you were never worth the wait.

Your fingers loom over the keyboard, twiddling. The guilt is there, always there, always a dark cloud hanging. You were cruel to him. Casual about it, even. Used him like a tool and never once considered that he was a person with feelings that could be hurt.

But maybe—and this is the thought that's been needling at you since the cafe—maybe the worst thing you could do now is waste his second chance on you by playing games. Maybe the cruelest thing would be pretending you don’t want this when you so obviously, desperately do.

On the one hand, honesty is terrifying and vulnerability makes you nauseous. 

But, on the other hand…

you well maybe the girl wants to see if you’re full of shit or not 

Your heart speeds up behind the confines of your ribs. 

jungkook i’m not the same guy from high school. i don’t play about what i want 

With bated breath, you type your response. It’s a question that you know the answer to, and you don’t know why you need him to say it, but he will anyway. 

you and what is it that you want?

jungkook you. 

The night of Huh Yunjin’s birthday creeps up slowly on you, amidst a week busied with work, adult errands, and most stupidly, thoughts of Jungkook. The thoughts of him play, pause, tape spooling, and then rewind on a constant loop, unrelenting in their nature. 

You hadn’t spoken to him much after your last exchange, minus some ‘good morning’ texts from him that you responded to politely. It’s foreplay, if nothing else, because even a few words from him are enough to leave you giddy for days to come. 

You fully intend to take him up on his offer, you just don’t know when. . 

Sinkhole is packed to the brim, sweaty bodies colliding in an attempt to feel human intimacy. A disco ball hangs loosely from the ceiling, transmitting silver light across the dance floor. The DJ is spinning up cringy Top 40 hits you haven’t heard since college, but the amount of soju shots you’ve consumed within the past hour masks the embarrassment you feel. 

“Cheers to my 28th!” Yunjin yells in your ear, raising her shot glass in the air. Jimin abandons making out with Taehyung in favor of lifting his shot glass with hers, and you can’t help but join in on the festivities. 

Yunjin keeps toasting to things that get progressively more unhinged. ‘To being 28! then ‘To my IUD!’ then ‘To tax evasion!’ 

You're not sure she's even joking on that last one. 

You’ve lost count of how many you’ve taken, but the liquor burns less with each passing shot. 

“Happy birthday, baby!” Jimin leans over the table you’re all perched at, pressing a chaste kiss to Yunjin’s cheek. She giggles in delight, smiling brightly in the way only a drunk person could. 

“Oh, why thank you, Jiminie,” she laughs. “And thank you, Tae and [Y/N] for buying the table!”

It was 75% Taehyung and 25% you, but you’ll accept her gratitude. Buying a table at the club with unlimited alcohol was also part of your master plan to get absolutely obliterated and halt all thoughts of Jungkook, at least for the night. 

“[Y/N], we need to find you a hot guy tonight. That dress is doing insane things to your legs,” Yunjin whines, pushing your shoulder. “There’s soooo many boys here.”

Jimin and Taehyung share a meaningful look, one that you don’t miss. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I’m not looking for anyone tonight. I want to spend it with you.”

“Booooring.” She pokes your side, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of Usher. “If you ditch me on my birthday to fuck a hot dude, I won’t be mad.”

“But I don’t want to fuck a hot dude—”

Jimin clears his throat. “Well, actually, you do. He’s just not here right now.”

There goes your vow to ignore all Jungkook thoughts this evening. 

“Jimin.”

“What? It’s true,” he giggles, cozying up into Taehyung’s side. “The guy practically sexted you last weekend.”

Feeling caught, you busy yourself with the hem of your black bodycon dress. “Whether I fuck him or not is nobody’s business but my own,” you mumble. 

“Oh, please,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You’ve been needing to get laid for months. We’re your best friends, which makes it our business.”

“She’s just upset that she ignored him in high school and now he’s this big, hunky guy,” Jimin snickers. 

Taehyung frowns. “Bigger than me?” 

“Okay, enough,” you snap, pouring more soju into the empty shot glasses. “I just wanna get drunk and enjoy my night.”

“I’m sure you would enjoy your night more if you had a big, sexy man to take care of you. I know I would,” Jimin chuckles. Not in a mean way, but your heart does sink a little as you watch him give Taehyung an open-mouthed kiss. 

Yunjin turns to you. “Why haven’t you fucked him?” 

You don’t know when this became an intervention, but everyone seems arduously interested on whether or not you fuck Jeon Jungkook. 

You shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t want to—trust me, I do—I just… feel a little bad about how I treated him in high school.”

Your friend snorts, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smile playing upon her lips. “If he felt bad about how you treated him, he wouldn’t be pursuing you.”

“She’s right,” Jimin jumps back in, and you fight the urge to slam his head into the table. He picks up a soju shot. “It’s kinda cute how desperate he seems for your attention. That’s a guy who’s gonna eat you out like his life depends on it.”

The mental image of his moist, plump lips wrapping around your clit has your thighs trembling under the table, but you clamp them before anyone can notice. 

“I’m gonna fuck him,” you promise. “I swear.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “I hope you do, before someone else snatches you up.” He tilts his head in the direction of a man eye-fucking you, and your stomach queases. 

“He’s cute,” Jimin takes his shot, and you follow suit. There’s no way you’re getting through this night without getting absolutely obliterated. 

“Oooo, there’s a really cute guy over there. 12:00,” Yunjin leans into the group, whispering as lowly as she can over the sound of Kesha. 

You refuse the desire to look. Taehyung, however, lets his eyes wander to who she’s talking about. Luckily, Jimin is too entranced by pouring himself another soju shot to care. “Oh fuck me. He’s fucking sexy. I would let that man give me a rimjob.” 

You slump into the chair. Somehow you have a feeling you’re about to undergo the world’s least subtle setup. 

Jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull. Slowly, he angles his body to see who his boyfriend is talking about. “He can’t possibly be that hot—oh my god. Oh my god.”

“What?” you and Yunjin say in unison. If you had to guess, based on Jimin’s track record and the specific tone of that ‘oh my god,’ he’s either spotted a celebrity, a firefighter in uniform, or someone from his legendary whore phase. And given that you’re at a nightclub, you're betting on option three. Jimin’s whore phase is the stuff of legend—a six-month period during sophomore year where he worked his way through half of Seoul's gay club scene. He doesn't talk about it often, mostly because Taehyung gets a very specific look on his face when it comes up, but every once in a while someone from that era will resurface and Jimin will make that exact noise.

“Who is it?” you press on, heart thumping in excitement. 

Jimin’s blonde hair sways as he turns to look back at you. “Okay, don’t panic.” 

Furrowing your brows, you start, “Don’t—”

“That’s Jungkook, you idiots. The fucking guy from [Y/N]’s high school we’ve been talking about,” he says in a hushed tone, punching Taehyung’s shoulder. 

There’s a warm feeling hugging your chest, your body feeling as though it’s been lit on fire. It might be the alcohol, or the sheer joke of it all. Out of all the scenarios you’ve conjured up in your daydreams, this wasn’t one of them. 

You turn your body to track where your friend’s eyes were just a minute ago. Even though Jimin already confirmed it, there’s a tiny part of you hoping his eyes deceive him. But there he is, Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, talking to one of his equally attractive friends. He’s wearing all black—black t-shirt that sculpts his biceps, black baggy jeans that sit tightly on his slim waist. His hair is ruffled, hoop earrings dangling from the holes in his ear. And really, the most sickening part of it all: he has two lip rings instead of the usual one. You’re gonna be sick.

“Earth to [Y/N]...” Yunjin waves a shot in front of your face, and without preamble, you take it from her, swallowing it in one easy sip. The alcohol travels down your throat, but you barely feel the burn. 

“You good?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. 

“Just peachy,” you lie. You smile at your friends, but they don’t seem convinced. 

Jimin guffaws, leaning back in his chair with an evil grin. “Is that why you just downed another shot?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“For alcohol or for Jungkook?” Yunjin bursts into a fit of giggles, high-fiving Jimin across the table. 

Groaning, you let your head fall into your hands. “I hope all of you die a slow and painful death.”

“He’s gotten even hotter since the last time I saw him,” Jimin notes, sipping his untouched margarita. “How is that possible?”

“Can we please talk about anything else?” You reach for the soju bottle, pouring the last of the clear liquid into your glass. Your second in thirty seconds. A new personal record.

“We will do no such thing,” Jimin’s eyes are gleaming with elation. “You need to go talk to him.”

You nearly choke on the liquor. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Go. Talk. To. Him.” Jimin enunciates each word like you’re a toddler. 

“Are you insane?” you deadpan. “Like, actually stupid? Have you suffered a brain injury I don’t know about?”

Both Jimin and Taehyung share another unspoken look. “I’m trying to help you.” 

“But I don’t want help—”

“[Y/N].” Jimin doesn’t often get very serious, but the expression on his face makes you squirm. “I’m not letting you fuck this up.”

“I;m not fucking anything up by staying exactly where I am.” You cross your arms over your chest. Realistically, you know he’s right. If you were more drunk, maybe you would bite the bullet, march over there, and plant a kiss right on those lips you haven’t stopped thinking about. But you’re not, so at the table you will stay. 

“This is fate. This is the universe putting him a few feet away.” Jimin gestures vaguely at Jungkook. 

“The universe can fuck off, honestly.”

He sighs, “I’m doing this for your own good.”

And before you can process his movements, a lag in your brain, Jimin turns in his seat, arm raising in a wave, mouth opening to call out his name. 

“No!” You lunge across the table, knocking over Taehyung’s drink, causing him to groan. You latch onto Jimin’s arm, yanking it down forcefully. “Don’t you fucking dare, Park Jimin—”

It’s too late. 

Because in your desperate scramble to stop Jimin from committing social suicide on your behalf, you've made a scene. Swiveling your head slowly, you see Jungkook staring directly at you. 

His eyebrows are raised, a hint of a smirk playing upon his lips. His tattooed fingers toy with the straw in his drink. It feels as though time drags on for hours, as if the hands of a clock are being lugged through molasses. 

You slowly extract yourself from on top of the table, slinking into your chair with as much dignity as you can muster. Your hand comes up in the world’s most awkward, tentative wave. The tiniest flutter of your fingers. 

Jungkook’s lips stretch wider, raising his hand in return. It’s a proper wave, filled with that newfound confidence of his. Then he turns back to his friend, resuming their conversation. It’s not like you expected him to drop everything for you—or well, you kind of did.  You exhale a deep breath. “Oh my god.” You slump in your chair. “That was horrible.”

“That was… bad,” Jimin tiptoes around the word, twiddling his thumbs. 

“I’m going to have to fake my death and move to a different country—”

“Stop being a drama queen,” Yunjin cuts in, sliding a shot towards you. You don’t even know or care where it spawned from, but all you know is you need it. “He waved back. He probably thought it was cute.”

Sighing, you shake your head. “There is nothing cute about what just happened.” You down the shot, and you’ve completely lost count at this point of how many you’ve ingested. 

“Okay, new plan,” you announce, slamming the glass down. “None of that happened. We enjoy Yunjin’s birthday. We do not make eye contact with Jungkook, we do not speak about Jungkook.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jimin trails off, eyes glued to somewhere behind your shoulder. “It’s too late.”

“Too late for what?” 

“He’s coming over here.”

Your entire body halts all movement, rigid like a statue. “What?”

“He’s coming here. Right now,” Taehyung repeats, and your heart drops to your feet. A hornet’s nest of anxiety swarms your stomach, filling your body with buzzing fear. 

You shake your head frantically. “Please say you’re messing with me.”

Yunjin turns to see where Jimin and Taehyung are staring, and the moment she touches your arm, you realize you’re trapped. There’s no way out but through. 

“[Y/N]. It’s nice to see you here.” 

His voice is deeper, a low timbre that makes your brain go all fuzzy around the edges. He stands in front of the table, and you peer through your eyelashes to look up at him. 

Fuck. Fuck, he looks even better up close. 

The two lip rings catch the light of the disco ball. A silver chain dangles from around his neck and you briefly wonder what it’ll look like hanging over you while he pounds into…God, get a grip. You can catch a whiff of his cologne, something citrusy and woodsy that causes a pool of arousal in your underwear.

“Hi,” you manage a smile, struggling to hold the intense gaze he’s sporting. 

He breaks it for a moment, turning to your best friend, nodding. “Jimin, good to see you again.”

“You too, Kook. You should join us!” He scooches closer to Taehyung, patting the minimal space beside him. Jungkook stares at it, then looks back at you with a hunger in his eyes that almost has you keeling over. 

“Actually,” Jungkook begins, “I was hoping I could steal [Y/N] for a drink. If that’s okay with you all?”

He wants to... what? Steal you? For a drink? Alone? You turn to Yunjin, eyes pleading. Help me. Save me. Make up an excuse. But she was never going to let you escape where he’s involved. She looks you dead in the eye, smiles sweetly, and says, “No, she’s all yours.”

You’re going to remember this. You’re going to bring this up at every possible opportunity for the rest of her natural life.

Jungkook’s hand extends towards you, palm up, awaiting yours. For a brief second, you stare at it, at his long fingers, at the veins running down his forearm, at the silver rings stacked on his nimble fingers. The hand that's now being offered to you, in public, in front of all your friends.

You can either take his hand and let whatever this is happen, or you can make up some excuse and run away for the fourth time.

Your heart starts cartwheeling in your chest. You can’t look away from his hand, the one you desperately want to take. Jungkook watches patiently, confidently, like he knows just what you’re deciding between. 

Fuck it. 

You place your hand in his, let your fingers intertwine with his warm ones. It’s secure, and his fingers tighten around yours as if to remind you he has you. Jungkook pulls you to your feet gently. He doesn’t let go as he guides you through the crowd toward the bar, and you’re trying very hard not to think about how right it feels, how you never want him to let you go. 

He parks you at the bartop, where a woman who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else is serving alcohol to a group of minors. Jungkook pats the stool beside him, and you’re more than grateful to take the chair. Your heels have been hurting like a bitch all night. When you sink into the chair, his eyes follow the way your dress hugs your thighs, revealing more skin than your old cheer uniforms. You debate tugging it down, but a warm feeling is flooding your insides at the thought of him wanting to see more of you.  He towers above you, his AMEX hanging loosely from his deft fingers. 

“What do you like to drink?” He leans down, whispers it directly in your ear. The heat of his breath makes your entire body feel like molten lava. 

The bartender begins to make her way over, eyes gleaming when she spots Jungkook. If you were less tipsy, you might come up with a witty response, but your current state only allows you to say, “A dirty shirley, please.” 

He doesn’t make a face at the girly drink, nor bats an eyelash when the bartender touches his arm four times while he recites his order. You can only watch in awe as he hands over his card and turns his attention back to you, body angling toward you as if to shield you from every other patron who might be able to see you. The slight possessiveness he’s exhibiting would normally make you hurl, but he’s so unapologetic about it that you could care less. You hope he puts his mark on you so no man will ever speak to you again. 

Jungkook fiddles with his fingers on the counter, unsure where to put them. The only glimpse of high school Jungkook you’ve seen in days. His hand hovers near your thigh, then his jeans pocket, then back to the counter. For all his cockiness over text and possessiveness, still lies a man who’s intimidated by the thought of truly having you. 

The soju in your body hums through your veins, making everything feel hazy and like a really good idea. Liquid courage, Yunjin calls it. Liquid stupidity, sounds more precise. 

But right now… you’re thinking liquid courage might be onto something. 

Because he’s standing so close you can smell his cologne, something that smells like grapefruit and lemon. Because he angled his body to block out the rest of the bar like you’re the only person here. Because his hand is right there, inches from you, and looks like he wants to touch you so badly it’s causing him physical pain. 

And you’re tipsy enough to think: yeah, liquid courage is real. 

Before the sober, anxious part of your brain can intervene with a thousand reasons why this is a horrible idea, you reach out. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, and his eyes snap to yours, surprise written across his features. 

You don’t utter a word, just simply guide his hand until his palm settles at the small of your back. Every place where his skin connects with yours seems to tingle. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low and chest rumbling with the sound. Again, his mouth is right by your ear, and you can’t think, can’t breathe, can't hear anything but him. 

“Would I have moved it there if I wasn’t?” 

His thumb strokes once against your side. “Just making sure.” 

“I’m tipsy, not drunk,” you clarify, only because you need him to know this is a choice. This is something you tried to talk yourself out of over and over again, but you want this. Liquid courage is making you brave enough to admit out loud what you only ever thought to yourself sober. “I know what I’m doing.” 

“And what are you doing?” His breath hits your cheek, the side of your mouth, and it’s laced with peppermint and whiskey, and you’re dizzy with need. 

“Giving you the green light,” you say, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are hooded, trained on your lips that are coated in shiny gloss. “That okay with you?” 

His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you incrementally closer. He doesn’t need to say anything. 

“Very okay,” he murmurs into your hair. 

The bartender returns with your drinks, but Jungkook doesn’t move his hand. He takes your dirty shirley with his free hand, passing it off to you. His grip becomes more secure, more selfish, like now that you’ve given him permission, he’s never planning on letting go. 

Good, you think. You don’t want him to. 

Jungkook’s hand wraps around the glass of whiskey, taking a slow sip. “Seems like fate was on my side tonight.” 

You take a gulp of your dirty shirley, the sweetness coating your tongue. “I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” 

His eyebrows raise, a tiny upward twitch in his mouth. “How do I know you’re not stalking me?” 

“Oh, you would know.”

“Really?” He leans in, brown eyes sparking like pools of chocolate. “And how’s that?” 

“Because I’d be better at it,” you proclaim, emboldened by the alcohol. “You wouldn’t catch me three times in two weeks. I’d have a whole system. Disguises, a wig collection..”

He laughs loudly. You notice that his dimples pop when he does so, eyes crinkling. “A wig collection.” 

“At minimum. Maybe some fake glasses and a trench coat.” 

“Clearly, you’ve thought about this,” he hums. 

You raise your hands in defense. “I’m just saying, if I were stalking you, you’d never know it unless I wanted you to know.” 

“Should I be concerned?” he questions, but he’s grinning. 

“Depends,” you tilt your head. “Are you worth stalking?” 

His fingers spread across the expanse of your spine. “I’d like to think so.” 

“Confident.” Another sip of your dirty shirley snakes down your throat, your lips toying with the straw as you peer up at him. 

His gaze never leaves yours. “Besides, you’re the one who guided my hand to your back. If anyone's being forward here…” 

That almost makes you choke on your sugary drink. “I was just—”

“Giving me the green light,” he finishes. “I remember. Trust me, I remember.” 

Your mind stumbles, then short-circuits. 

You resort to drinking more alcohol, needing something to do with your hands that’s not touching him. “This is crazy, right? Us, here?” 

“Crazy how?” 

“You know how. I mean, ten years ago, I was copying your chemistry homework, and now you’re so… you’re…”

There’s not a single English word that properly describes what present day Jeon Jungkook does to you, with his tattoos and lip rings and expensive cologne and platinum credit card and… fuck. 

“I’m what?” He leans closer, waiting, expecting. 

“This.” you say helplessly. “All of this.” 

“Is there something wrong with.” he uses his free hand to motion over his toned body, “this?”

“No. Nothing. That’s the problem.” It slips out before you can stop it. “It would be easier if something was wrong with it.” 

The hand not looped around your waist moves from the bartop to your dress, fingers finding the hem where it’s ridden up on your thigh. He plays with the fabric absentmindedly, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. “If no one’s told you, by the way,” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear him over the music, “this dress looks insane on you.” 

The wind is knocked out of your chest, a jolt of electricity flashing through your core. “No one’s told me yet. You’re the first.” 

His eyes drag up from where his fingers are flirting with your dress, traveling up your body until they meet yours. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he says. “There. Now I'm the second to say it.” 

It’s hard to breathe, hard to swallow. Even harder to find words, or form a coherent sentence. 

“You—I—you can’t—”

“Can’t..?” His hands don’t dare move from your dress, knuckles occasionally brushing against your thigh. “Can’t tell you the truth?”

“You know what you’re doing, Jungkook.” 

“I do,” he agrees. “Is it working?” 

You want to lie. Want to play it cool. Want to maintain some semblance of the upper hand. 

But your downfall was inevitable, right from the moment you saw him standing in the cafe. Like a champagne bottle that someone shook a little too hard, a balloon pressed against a thumbtack. It was always meant to explode. 

“Yes,” you admit. 

“Good.” Both of his hands move to grip the side of your barstool. In one smooth movement, he turns you to face him completely. His legs spread, creating space, and he guides the stool forward with his toe until your thighs slot between his.  He’s caging you in, hands landing atop your thighs, palms warm against your bare skin. 

You’re practically pressed against him, his face level with yours, “Is this okay?” he asks again, fingers digging into the flesh. 

Suddenly, it’s like you’re painfully aware of all the places where he isn’t touching you. Your faces, your chests. You want more, need more. 

“Stop asking me that,” you mumble, looking away, but he guides your gaze back with a finger under your chin. 

“I need to know, princess.” His tone is serious, but you want to smile from the pet name. “Tell me if it’s too much.” 

“It’s not,” you whisper. “It’s not too much.” 

“No?”

“No.” 

His hands slide up your thighs, hiding underneath the fabric, pushing a boundary that hasn't been tested in a long time. “What about now?’ 

You’re going to combust. Right here, in the middle of  Sinkhole, surrounded by people, you're going to burst into flames.

“Still okay,” you exhale. 

For one exhilarating second, his eyes drop to your lips, and you think you’ll get what you’ve been seeing in your dreams the past few nights. You need to get out of here. Away from the crowd, away from the noise, somewhere you can actually hear yourself think—or not think. Preferably not think.

“Do you want to…” you start, then hesitate. The words die on your tongue. 

He cocks his head, hair flopping into his eyes. “Do I want to…” 

Your heartbeat reverberates in your throat. “Talk somewhere more private? It’s loud here.” 

His composure shifts, and you watch the realization hit him. What you're suggesting. What that implies.

“Private,” he repeats. “To talk.” 

“Yes.” 

“About?” 

You deadpan, brain racking for a subject, any subject. “Stuff,” is what you come up with.

A dry laugh escapes him. “And maybe things as well?” 

You pout. “Important stuff.” 

“I’m sure.” His smile is lopsided, goofy and full of light.  He pulls you up from the barstool until your feet touch the ground again. His hand finds your fingers, easily lacing them. “Whatever you want, princess.” 

Where the fuck did that come from? When did he become the type of person to use pet names? And why is it working? Why is that single word making your entire nervous system light up like a Christmas tree?

Tugging you through the crowd, he peers behind him every few seconds to make sure you haven’t floated away. His hand is firm around yours, guiding you through the mass of bodies, and you try and catch a glimpse of any of your friends. 

Unfortunately, you do spot Jimin and Taehyung, pressed against a wall, entranced in a makeout session so intense that they’re definitely not coming up for air soon. At least you won’t have to explain to them where you went. Yunjin is nowhere to be found, probably on the dance floor or already home with one of her many flings. 

Jungkook pulls you through another section of the crowd, leading you down a side hallway that’s mercifully empty. The music is muffled, bass still thumping through the walls but not deafening anymore. You lean back against the cold concrete, the chill a shock against your overheated skin. The wall vibrates with each bass drop, humming in your chest. 

Jungkook stops in front of you, and you have to tilt your head back to see his face. “What did you want to talk about?”  

Your mind shoots blanks. In this dim hallway, you’ve become aware of how completely the tables have turned. Ten years ago, you held all the cards. You were the girl who made him nervous, who had him stumbling over words, who could get him to do anything with a smile and a flutter of your eyelashes. But now you’re the one who’s heart is racing, who feels like you might explode from a single touch. He has the upper hand, utterly, entirely. And you handed it to him willingly. Put his hand on your waist, guided him here, and now you’re putty in his hands and he knows it. 

“You make me nervous,” you blurt out. 

The silence that engulfs you feels like punishment. Your mouth goes dry, palms sweating under the guise of his stare. 

He takes a step closer. There’s little to no space between you. “That’s interesting.” 

“Why is that interesting?” Your back is pressed against the wall. Nowhere to go. 

“You used to make me nervous,” he says, bracing his hand on the wall. His bicep strains and you have to fight the urge to ogle at them. “For years.” 

“That was different, Jungkook.” 

“Was it?” He studies you. “In what way?” 

“Well, because now you’re you, and I’m—“

“I’m me?” His eyebrows raise an inch, lips curling upwards in a smirk. “What does that mean?” 

Why did you drink so much alcohol? Why, why, why? Maybe if you hadn’t, your lips wouldn’t be so goddamn loose. Your filter would still be in tact. You wouldn’t be staring at him like you want to devour him whole. 

You peer up at him, eyelashes fluttering. His cheeks are flushed from the amount of drinks he’s consumed, and he’s close enough that you can see the moles that litter his face. The one under his lip. The one on his nose. You want to kiss each and every single one of them. Map them out with your lips until you have them memorized. 

You give up on any pretense of playing it cool. “You know you’re hot, Jungkook.” 

“Do I know?” The smirk on his face grows tenfold, and god, you want to kiss it off him. “You’ve never told me this before.” 

“High school was different.” 

“You’ve said that a lot, but it’s actually not that different,” he murmurs. 

“Hm?”

His gaze drops to your lips for the hundredth time tonight. “Because I’m still so fucking unbelievably, out of my mind, attracted to you.”

Your brain struggles to process it—that he’s felt this way for years. That it never went away. That all the confidence and cockiness is built on top of the same desire that made teenage Jungkook stutter around you.

“You’re just saying things,” you whisper. But you’ve known. You’ve always known. 

His hand falls from the wall to cup your jaw. “You think I begged Jimin for your number because I was just being polite? You think I showed up at three different cafes hoping fate would bring us together because I’m casual about this?”

“But you said that cafe was your regular spot—”

He fights to hide the smile creeping onto his face. “I’ve wanted you since I was a teenager.” His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “Somehow, impossibly, I want you even more now.” 

Your heart is trying to break out of the confines of your ribcage. “Jungkook.” 

His forehead is almost touching yours. “What’s different is that now I’m not terrified to tell you.”

You don’t know what else to say to him, so you smile as brightly as you can, letting your happiness live on your face. 

“How many drinks have you had tonight?” he asks. 

You scrunch your brows together. “A lot of soju. That dirty shirley. Why?” 

Bluntly, he says, “Because I want to kiss you. But not if you’re too drunk to remember it tomorrow.” 

You squeak, back slightly arching off the wall. You’ve never wanted anything more, never ached to feel someone the way you do him. Heat travels through your veins, burning you to your core. 

“I told you, I’m tipsy,” you rush to protest. “I’ll remember this tomorrow.” 

It should be embarrassing how quickly you reassure him, how the words tumble out of your mouth. 

His forehead presses against yours, and it’s a miracle you don’t dissolve into a puddle. “Then can I—”

“Yes,” you interrupt. If he doesn’t kiss you in the next five seconds, you might actually die. 

“I didn’t finish the question.” His lips ghost over yours, a gentle taste of what you yearn for. 

“I don’t care what the question is,” you exhale. “The answer is yes.” 

And then his lips are on yours. 

Never in your high school years did you imagine how Jeon Jungkook kissed. Never thought about how his lips would feel against your own. Never cared to think about it. 

This past week, however, you’ve spent more time imagining this exact scenario than you’ve spent breathing. But reality is superior to whatever your brain could conjure up. Your imagination could never describe Jungkook’s demanding kiss, or the way his lips melt into yours with utmost certainty. His hand slides from your jaw to your cheek, cradling it. The other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

A mix of a gasp and a moan falls from your lips, and he swallows it wholly. Your fists find his shirt, tugging on the fabric, pulling him closer even though there’s no space between you. His lip rings are cold against your mouth, a contrast to the heat of his lips and the heat between your thighs. Parting your lips, his tongue sweeps in, tastes just like you smelled earlier—whiskey and peppermint. Your lip gloss is definitely everywhere at this point—on him, on you, probably on the wall behind you—but you couldn’t care less.

His strong hand travels from your cheek down, down, fingers wrapping loosely around your throat. Claiming, holding. The possessiveness of the gesture sends heat pooling low into your stomach. Jungkook’s thumb presses into your pulse point, feeling how your heart is racing. 

And when you do finally pull away, your heart is still going berzerk. His lips are shiny with your gloss, pink and swollen and thoroughly kissed. You can't help but giggle at the sight. 

“What?” he asks, breathless. The tips of his ears are tickled pink.

“You’re wearing my lip gloss,” you giggle again, reaching up to wipe it with your thumb. But he doesn’t let you get far, catches your wrist and presses a kiss right where your flowery perfume is sprayed. He takes a deep inhale and smiles back at you like you hung the moon and stars. Your heart is pumping so wildly you’re worried it might actually burst out of your chest.

Then his lips are on your neck, trailing down to your exposed collarbone, finding every sensitive spot with ease like he already knows you, like he holds the map to your body. He holds you tight to him, grounding—and thank god because your legs are shaking so badly that you're not sure you could stand without him holding you up.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, and he hums against your skin. His mouth finds your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out. Your fingers thread through his unruly dark brown locks, tugging slightly at the nape. 

And you can’t really help the intrusive thoughts that leap in your mind, the tidal wave of desire that keeps lapping at your core. He’s insatiable, and you feel gluttonous. “Do you wanna—” you start, but his teeth graze your pulse point and your brain turns to mush. “maybe—ahh—go to mine?”

He halts, pulls back enough to look at you. “Is that what you want?” His voice is strained, the thread of self-control growing weaker and weaker. 

Your brain is fuzzy from alcohol and kissing and the feeling of his hands on your waist, but you know what you're saying. You know what you're offering. You’re done fighting whatever decade-old guilt lives inside you, because you deserve him. Maybe you’re finally ready to accept it. To trust that you’ve grown, that you’re growing, that you’re not done growing and thats okay. You deserve all the good that Jeon Jungkook has to offer. “Yes,” you breathe, “I want—I want you.”

His eyes search for hesitation. “You’ve been drinking, and I don't want you to feel like you need to—”

“I’m sure.” Cupping his face in your hands, you cut his sentence in half. Don’t even let it slip between you. “I know what I want.”

Somehow, his eyes have gone darker, fingers tightening for purchase. “Say it again,” he murmurs. 

“I want you, Jungkook.” Your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, catching on his lip rings. “Take me home.”

“Fucking hell,” he practically moans, and then his lips are on you again with an urgency that wasn’t there before. “We should probably tell your friends we’re leaving.”

“Jimin’s busy.” If you had to guess, he’s on his knees at home, getting topped by Kim Taehyung. “And Yunjin will understand. Your friends?”

“They know who you are.”

A swarm of butterflies kick up in your stomach. 

You tug on his shirt. “Now can we please go before I lose my mind?” 

His answer to that is another quick kiss—but still thorough, because who is he if not a man starved—and he pulls you through the hallway, back into the club, into the thick of the chaos still lingering this late in the night. You hardly register any of it. The lights, the bass of the music, the bodies pressing against you as you squeeze by. None of it matters. 

You feel like you’re floating, like your feet are moving but you can’t feel the ground, like you’re walking on clouds. His hand is wrapped around yours, pulling you forward, and you’d follow him anywhere right now. To the ends of the earth. Off a cliff. 

Once the crisp night air hits your skin, Jungkook is already scanning the street, hand raised to hail a taxi. One pulls up within seconds—it’s got to be fate, or the universe supporting your agenda to get laid—and he opens the door, ushering you inside with a hand on the small of your back. 

Jungkook shuts the door forcefully, immediately snuggling into your side, leaving little to no room for you to create space between you two. Not that you wanted to, but you want to giggle at how utterly fearful he seems of distance from you. 

“Where to?” the driver asks, eyeing Jungkook in the rearview. 

You rattle off your address, and the cab pulls off into traffic. Seoul at this hour is never quiet—in fact, it’s usually more lively, since clubs stay open until the wee hours of the morning. But all you can really focus on is Jungkook beside you, his thigh pressed against yours in the cramped backseat. His fingers lace through yours. An innocent, sweet gesture, a complete contrast from what was happening ten minutes ago against that hallway wall.  

You look down at your intertwined hands—his so much larger than yours, rings cool against your skin. A smile bestows upon your lips. When you glance up at him, he’s staring at you with this fond expression that makes your heart stutter.

“What?” you ask, giddy. 

“Nothing,” he replies, but the smile on his face doesn’t disappear. “I just can’t believe this is happening.” 

“Me neither,” you admit sheepishly. 

His hand reaches over, tugging the hem of your dress down where it’s ridden up your thigh. The action would be chivalrous, if not for the way his fingers linger, if not for the way his jaw clenches, if not for the way his fond expression darkens into something sinister. 

“You need to stop moving,” he says, a deep exhale following his words. 

You roll your eyes. “I’m not even moving.”

“Your… dress is moving.” His hand remains on your thigh, holding the fabric down. “I can’t hold it together if this dress rides up any more.” 

“Oh.” 

He shifts in his jeans, clearly uncomfortable. You have to fight not to avert your eyes to his crotch. 

“Do you know how long it’ll take to get to her apartment?” Jungkook asks the driver. You snort loudly. 

He shrugs. Clearly, the man has never shared Jungkook’s predicament, because he looks unbothered by the urgency in his voice. “About twenty minutes.” 

Jungkook groans, leaning back into the seat, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them again and catches your gaze, he has to close them to calm his friend down there. And it does make you giggle again, but what you want more than anything is to feel him. For him to give you a part of him that you didn’t know you needed until now. 

You whisper in his ear. “I don’t want you to hold it together.”

His eyes fly open, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Don’t tempt me right now, [Y/N].”

“Why not?” And you pull out your tricks—you bat your eyelashes, tilt your head down, lick your lips to wet them. His face grows pale. 

“Because we’re in a cab,” he murmurs, staring at your lips. “And I’m trying to be respectful.”

“Maybe I want you to disrespect me right now.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he's kissing you again. His hand leaves your dress to cup your face, angling your head so he can kiss you deeper. 

The cab driver clears his throat. You both ignore him, too hypnotized by the other to think about stopping. He pulls you as close as he can, and a frustrated noise escapes from your lips. There’s too many layers, too much distance, and he smiles knowingly against your lips. 

He seems to know just what you need. 

Jungkook’s large hand lands on your knee, caressing the supple skin. 

“You know how to be quiet, baby?” 

You nod meekly. 

His voice brushes against the shell of your ear, hand traveling up your thigh to mask itself under the fabric of your dress.  “Good girl. Spread your legs for me.”

Eyes widening, you stare up at him blankly. There is no way on this planet, Jeon Jungkook, the man who you were sure—up until now—never had his first kiss, is about to finger you in a taxi. But his hand moving near your lace panties says otherwise. You jolt forward at the feeling of his deft fingers swiping at the fabric as discreetly as possible. You gasp, and he tosses you a look before you slap your hand over your mouth. Luckily, the taxi driver seems more focused on the fastest route to your apartment than whatever debauchery is occurring in his backseat. It’s also dark in the car, impossible for the naked eye to see Jungkook’s movements. 

He presses against the wet spot on your underwear, and heat creeps up your neck at the realization of just how turned on he’s had you since the hallway. Maybe even before then, if you’re being honest. He smiles at the revelation. 

Your nails dig into the leather seat of the cab. Jungkook’s tattooed fingers push aside your underwear, his pointer finger collecting the arousal. A whimper escapes you, and when you look at him, the look on his face sends another round of wetness dripping down his finger. “God, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he whispers into your ear, letting two fingers ghost over your clit, gently pushing the bundle of nerves. “Didn’t know public sex turned you on so much.” 

You bite back a moan. The teasing pace he’s set over your clit would be fun, if you had a constant stream of sexual endeavors, but unfortunately, you’re as desperate as a raccoon sifting through trash. Gripping onto his wrist, you push him onto you fiercely. “Needy, aren’t we?” he mutters. 

All you can reply with is a quick nod. He chuckles softly, rubbing circles on your clit with the pad of his pointer and middle finger. Your head falls back on the headrest, eyes squeezed tight, tight, tight as you try to calculate how he found your clit so fast. It’s so wet, dripping onto the seat, his hands, that you could cum just from the stimulation of it all. 

“What do you want, princess? Hm?” Somehow, it sounds like he’s far away from you, like you’re caught on your own cloud of bliss. You want to ask for more, need more like it’s oxygen. His rhythm slows just a tad, enough to have your eyes flying open. “I asked you a question.”

Oh. Oh. So he’s that kind of guy. 

“I want—I want your fingers,” you whisper feebly. 

“Yeah? Where, princess? I’ll give you whatever you want.” he kisses your shoulder, your jaw, and it makes your brain fuzzy around the edges. 

The tantalizing pace he’s set on your clit makes it hard to speak. “W-want you to fuck me with them.”

His lips curl upwards, eyes blazing. “You like my fingers?” Another nod. He removes his fingers from your clit, slipping back out underneath your dress. You’re about to protest, maybe even kick him out of the car, until you watch him make direct eye contact with you, and place his fingers in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around the digits. You blink. What the actual fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“Please, Jungkook,” you beg, your nails scrambling to dig in his clothed thigh. He chastises you, laughs at you, before slithering under your dress again, plunging his fingers directly into your sopping entrance. You gasp, loud enough to make the driver look in the rearview, but you bite your bottom lip before any more can escape. “I know you can take it. If you can take that douchebag Kim Mingyu, you can handle me. Although, after I’m done with you, my name might be the only name you moan for the rest of your life.” 

You should hate that. You really, really should. But clearly, your dignity has taken the night off, and in its place is a woman who is so endeared over being degraded by Jeon Jungkook. 

His fingers pump in and out, achingly slow, making you feel every inch. You’re gripping his thigh so tightly you swear there’ll be claw marks. Your head rests on the back of your seat, chest heaving. If not for the sound of traffic outside, the driver might be able to hear the way your pussy squelches with each movement. 

Jungkook’s lips press against your jaw, litter around your neck. “More,” you mumble, sounding drunker than you did in the club. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet. I can’t wait to be inside you. Gonna fuck you all night.” Lewd words continue to spill from his lips. Sending waves of arousal onto his fingers, more for him to play with as he picks up his pace. He curls his fingers upwards, reaching that sensitive spot that far and few men have ever found. Your body trembles, thighs shaking, and Jungkook’s hand lands on them to try and steady you. 

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing sloppy circles as he brings you to the brink of your orgasm. Your eyes fight to stay open, looking over at Jungkook—and holy hell. His arm veins are popping out, mostly from the amount of effort he’s putting into fucking into you to completion, his dark hair flopping over his face. His silver chain bounces off his chest, reflecting on the city lights outside. 

And you don’t even realize how quickly you’re about to cum, tears brimming your eyes from the way his fingers pump in and out you wildly, thumb matching his pace over your clit. “So tight around my fingers, princess. You gonna cum?” 

There’s no way you can be quiet about this. Not with how fucking good he looks, not with how easily his fingers slip in and out you, hitting your sweet spot. You bury your head in his neck, moaning into his warm skin, trying to muffle the sound as much as possible. “Fuck, Jungkook.” 

“Want you to cum on my fingers, princess. Can you do that for me?” You nod into his neck. 

Your walls clench around his fingers one last time, to the point where he can hardly move them, his thumb working you through the orgasm that ripples through your body. Your fingers claw at his arm, teeth biting at his neck. You can feel yourself lose control, heart beating erratically in your chest. 

Jungkook’s fingers halt inside you, thumb coaxing you through the rest of your orgasm. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” 

Your body completely slumps into him, still feeling full with his two fingers inside you. 

Finally, after he allows you a moment to catch your breath, he pulls them out of your pussy, soaked with your creamy arousal. “Open,” he says gently, but when you look up at him, his gaze is hardly sympathetic. Your lips part for him, and he places his fingers on your tongue. You swirl it around, tasting yourself, sweet and salty and warm, foreign to you. Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. 

“Good job, baby,” he says as he removes his fingers, pressing one, two chaste kisses on your lips. 

All things considered, you’re in absolute shock. Somewhere between high school and now, Jeon Jungkook learned how to kiss like he’s trying to ruin you for all other men. Where did he learn all this? Who taught him to do that thing with his fingers? How does he know exactly where to put his hands, exactly how much pressure to use to make you lose your mind?

The thought of him practicing on other people—other girls—makes something ugly twist in your stomach. 

You’re an evil, evil girl. “Where’d you learn all that?” 

He raises an eyebrow, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. “Are you asking about my sexual history now?” 

“No.”

“You are,” he teases. “You’re not jealous, right?”

If only he knew how ill you felt at the idea of another girl knowing how his fingers can easily find their g-spot. 

“I am not jealous.” You feign indifference, but your voice comes out all defensive and petulant, which kind of ruins it all. “Just asking a question.” 

“You want to know who I've been with?” he asks, clearly trying not to laugh. 

“Never said that.” 

He presses another soft kiss against your lips. “There’s been other people. I’m not going to lie about that. But that’s not a big deal.” 

You furrow your brows. “Why?” 

His thumb traces circles on your thigh. “Because I thought about you during all of it. I wondered what you’d feel like, wondered what sounds you would make. So, yeah,” he continues. “I learned some things. But I only ever wanted to use them on you.” 

You kiss him again because you don’t know what else to do with the feeling expanding in your chest. Because he’s looking at you like that and saying things like that and your heart is fluttering out of your body. God, if that doesn’t make you want to drag him upstairs immediately.

The cab pulls up to your building and Jungkook is already pulling out his wallet, throwing bills at the driver without checking the amount. "Keep the change," he says, and then he's out of the cab, pulling you with him.

Your legs are unsteady when you stand—from the alcohol, from the kissing, from everything—and his arm wraps around your waist, steadying you. “I’m not done with you yet, princess.” 

And, really, he’s not joking because he’s on you the second you step through the door to your apartment. Barely even crosses the threshold before his lips are colliding with yours passionately, slamming your spine into the wall by your entryway. His hands cup your cheeks entirely. He can’t get enough of you, like opposite poles of a magnet attracting. Shortly after his affair with the entryway, Jungkook moves a little more down your hallway, but you’re too focused on kissing him to direct him. Your shoes are discarded, purse on the floor, and then your back finds another cool wall to rest against. 

Jungkook assaults your neck, leaving a trail of bruises that are going to take a hell of a lot of explaining tomorrow. Your apartment probably sounds like the set of some cheap porno, what with Jungkook’s whimpers and your moans, and neither of you are even naked yet. Your hands run over the front of his chest, feeling his sculpted body underneath his shirt. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into your collarbone, where he’s leaving hickeys in his wake. His hands wander over your chest, cupping them over your dress. Without another word or warning, he yanks down the top of your dress, your breasts spilling out. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you as he manhandles you, his lips coming to wrap around your hardened nipple. His tongue swipes over the sensitive nub, eyes peering up expectantly, watching every facial expression that contorts on your face. 

Your eyes squeeze tightly, a kaleidoscope of color blooming behind your vision. “Jungkook,” you moan, carding your fingers through his unruly hair. 

Without preamble, Jungkook kisses your nipples one last time before dropping to his knees on your hardwood floor with a resounding thump. 

You open your eyes. The sight in front of you is fucking ungodly. If you look closely, you can see Jungkook from high school, expectantly looking up at you with puppy dog eyes, pushing your dress up to hang around your waist. 

“W-what are you doing?’ you ask. 

He looks drunk. “Need to eat you out. I want to taste you, princess.”

You don’t remember the last time a man has looked so needy to feel you, to taste you. Actually, you can’t remember a time this even occurred. 

You exhale. “Yes. Yes, please.” 

That’s all he really needs. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment more in burying his face between your folds as though it’s his last meal on earth. His fingers come to spread your lips open for him as he flicks his tongue over your nub, sending you bent over as you scramble for purchase in his hair, his shoulders, anything. “Oh, fuck, Jungkook, right there.” 

He notices your struggle to stand upright, and then he’s guiding your leg over his shoulder, toes dangling. He moans into your pussy, a breathy little exhale that sends fire shooting through your veins. Jungkook’s strong arm holds your leg in place over his shoulder. His tongue fucks inside of you shallowly, your eyes rolling backwards. “Tastes so sweet, so fucking heavenly, baby,” he mutters but it barely makes its way into your ears. You can feel his lip rings swiping over your arousal, the cool metal causing your thighs to quake uncontrollably. 

And then you’re just babbling profanities, a mantra of his name, curse words. A litany of praise. Some other embarrassing things you hope he never remembers. 

“I feel g-guilty. For the way I treated y-you in high school,” you stammer, quivering against his face as he licks another stripe up your slit. 

You don’t know why it’s all coming out now, but it is. God, you were such a bitch in high school. Such an egotistical brat who was too caught in her own ways to ever see that there was more to life than social status and cheerleading. 

His tongue encircles your clit, one of your hands flying to his hair to tug. “Don’t feel guilty,” he murmurs. “That’s not what I want you to feel right now. I want to make you feel good.” 

His tongue travels from your hole to your clit, and normally the rhythm would throw you off, but he’s so skillful about the whole thing that you’re teetering on the brink of an orgasm. And he must know, must be able to read your body like it’s something he spent years studying, because he’s sucking on your clit, letting his tongue flick over it repeatedly, maintaining a rhythm that has you screaming, “Oh fuck, oh shit, I’m gonna—Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” 

That doesn’t deter him the slightest. Spurs him on like he’s entered in some kind of pussy-eating competition. You’ll spend years talking about this experience, you think. 

Your fingers tighten in his hair, tangling, tugging, and your entire body vibrates as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. He fucks you through it, keeps going until you’re pushing him away with your toe forcefully. When he finally gives up, he says from between your legs, “Better than Kim Mingyu?” 

Maybe you shouldn’t care about high school anymore, but you can’t help but laugh, smile at him. “He never even ate me out, Koo.” 

His face softens— whether that’s because of the nickname you adorned him with or the fact that Mingyu was an asshole, you’ll never know—and he’s standing up, pressing a dirty kiss to your lips. It’s messy, sloppy, tongue over teeth, but so undeniably him that you cling to him like a koala. “He’s the biggest idiot of all time to miss out on that.” 

“Hmm,” you hum against his lips. They taste just like you, and it sends another gush of arousal pouring out of you. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist, your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. You’re drowning in him—his taste, his smell, the way he’s kissing you like he’s been starving for it. You can feel his length poking against your thigh, and your heart skips at just how large it al;ready feels through his jeans. 

Your hands roam down his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath his shirt, tracing lower until your fingers find his belt. You fumble with the buckle, fingers clumsy with desire. Jungkook looks down at your manicured fingers, easily working, speaking to how much experience you have. His cock throbs at the thought. 

You’re about to get on your knees, return the favor, but he stops you as soon as you lower an inch. 

Jungkook simply says, “The next time I want you to cum, is going to be on my cock.” 

Okay, yes sir. He’s all dominating and commanding and it makes your pussy clench around nothing. 

His forehead drops against yours, breath punching out of him. “Fuck, I need to be inside you.” 

The metal clinks as his pants drop to the floor, his Calvin Klein boxers doing little to hide how big he is. Jungkook kicks them off, eager to remove as many layers as possible. Your mouth salivates, and you’re positive a sliver of drool is slithering out of your mouth. His hands tighten on your hips, bruising the skin. 

You kiss him again, but this time, it’s rougher, faster, hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, and he makes a sound between a groan and a whimper that makes you feel powerful.  Your hands roam, searching, until—

Holy shit. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his length. He’s big, no doubt about that. But it’s the fucking girth of it that has your mouth watering. He’s thick, and you can feel the veins that decorate his cock. 

Jesus Christ. This is what your Chemistry tutor was hiding under his pants. A fucking anaconda. 

But you’re not about to admit that. 

No shot in hell. 

“Mhmm, I feel like you’re kinda small,” you tease, battling your eyelashes at him as you stroke his hardened length dangerously slow. 

His nostrils flare. “Yeah? Think I’m small, baby?” 

“Tiny.”

Your thumb drags over his tip, and then you feel it. A piece of metal. Jeon Jungkook has a fucking dick piercing. 

His eyes set ablaze as he realizes that you know. “Fucking hell, you’re still the same brat you’ve always been.”

Jungkook’s lips collide with yours, and he kicks off his boxers urgently. “Fuck,” he breathes against your mouth. Suddenly his hands are gripping the backs of your thighs, lifting you up like you weigh nothing. You gasp, legs wrapping around his waist as your back hits the wall harder. The new position puts you at eye level with him, head spinning. He reaches down between your bodies to let his cock sit in between your wet folds, ever so teasing. 

Your fingernails dig into the nape of his neck, head lolling back against the wall. “Please fuck me, Koo. Wanna feel you inside me.”

“Oh, now you want to beg? After you called me tiny?” He hisses as he swirls the tip over your clit, the cool metal of his piercing sending shockwaves down your spine. 

“Please,” you beg. “Pleasepleaseplease.” It’s slurred when it leaves your mouth, breath catching when you look down and see the way the metal reflects off his soaking tip, encased in your juices. “I need it.” 

With that, he pushes into you, all inches of his length, squirming in his arms. You scramble to hold onto something, opting for his biceps that are straining with the weight of holding you up. A moan leaves both of your mouths. He waits until you’re fully adjusted, taking every inch of him. “Feels so good, princess. So tight and warm, holy shit.” 

“Jungkook,” you pant. You’re so full of him, he’s everywhere. Stopping is the last thing on your mind. You’re a woman made of greed. “You’re so—fuck—big.” 

He smiles triumphantly and takes that as his sign to move. He uses his arms to slide you up and down his cock, slamming you onto him, your clit meeting his pubic bone. The piercing drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting the sweet spot inside you that has you screaming a litany of crude words that’ll have your neighbors knocking your door down tomorrow morning. His head falls to the crook of your shoulder, burying himself in your scent. 

It’s more than you’ve ever taken, beyond any sex you’ve ever had in your life. You’re going to be ruined for all other men and you haven’t even made it to the bedroom yet. Your past lovers are about to become a footnote. A distant memory. Ancient fucking history.

The sound of your pussy squelching with each rough thrust fills the room, Jungkook’s hairline beading with sweat as he furiously pounds into you, tits bouncing in his face. He begins to babble, “Used to cum so hard thinking about you, baby. You in that—fuck—cheer uniform, with your nipples hard. I wanted to push it to the side and fuck you.”

You moan at the thought. “Yeah, why didn’t you? I would’ve rode your face with your glasses on.” 

He presses a sloppy kiss on the side of your mouth. “Bet you would’ve loved that, huh? Deflowering the nerd?”

The mental image flashes through your mind—seventeen-year-old Jungkook, all awkward limbs and nervous stammering, those thick-framed glasses sliding down his nose while you sat on his face in the library after hours. You would’ve been so mean about it too. Would’ve made him beg, would’ve had him so desperate and eager to please that he would’ve done anything you asked. Would’ve probably given him the best night of his teenage life and then ignored him in the hallway the next day because you were dating Mingyu and had a reputation to maintain.

“I would’ve made you cum—ahh, shit—so hard.” You try your hardest to maintain eye contact, but everytime you do, your walls flutter around his cock. “You would’ve been obsessed.”

“I was already obsessed,” he groans, nipping at your jaw. His balls slap against your ass, adding to the horrific amount of sounds eliciting from your apartment. “It couldn’t have gotten much worse.”

He has a very fair point. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, already on the brink of another orgasm. Everything about him—his scent, the way his tattoos glisten with sweat, how his bottom lip is tugged underneath his front teeth—sends your mind into delirium. He’s fucking you with enough force to have your head bouncing off the wall every few thrusts, that you feel it resound along your bones. 

“Fuck, I don’t wanna cum yet,” he whimpers into your skin. “But god, I don’t think I’ll be able to last.”

Neither will you, but an idea sparks in your pretty little head. You crook a finger under his jaw, making him look at you. His expression is completely fucked out, lips swollen, cheeks ruddy. His thrusts slow, enough so that he can pay attention to your words. “I want to get on top. Let me fuck you, Jungkook.” 

He nods, and then he’s readjusting you in his arms, with you clinging to him like a newborn baby. You giggle as he frantically tries to find your bedroom, pausing every few moments to press a few kisses to your cheeks and lips. 

Finally, he locates your room, plopping you down on the bed, and you moan at the sudden emptiness you feel with his cock gone. He tosses his t-shirt over his head. 

Jungkook sits up against the headboard, gently stroking his length as he watches you move to bracket his thighs, settling over his tip. “Ready for me, princess?” 

Eagerly, you shake your head in approval, and you sink down inch by inch onto his length. For some reason, in this position, it feels like he’s stretching you out more, your walls sucking him in greedily. Your hands come to rest on his beefy chest, nails digging into the skin. 

There’s not many things you're good at, but one thing you are insanely talented at? Riding cock like it’s your god given right. Your hips undulate wildly, bouncing up and down to accommodate his full length. Jungkook watches in awe, in a trance, as you cream his cock. His hands come to sit at your hips, guiding you the best he can. His head rests against the headboard, lazily watching as you play with your tits. “Ride my cock,” he groans, “just like that, princess.”  

“You stretch me out so good, Jungkook,” you moan, thighs trembling with each movement. He can feel you getting closer to the edge, already riled up from the previous position. Your walls clench around him, sucking him in. His thumb falls to your clit again, finding it so easily after so many rounds. “Right there, baby,” you chant, eyes closed. “Right fucking there.”

“Jesus, I'm so close,” he grunts, beginning to thrust upwards into you as your own pace slows. The sounds are beyond obscene—his cock plunging into your wetness, headboard slamming against the wall. You don’t care about any of it, not one bit, as long he keeps fucking into you. 

It was always obvious from the moment he kissed you at the club that neither of you were going to last long, anyway. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you practically scream, which would have you embarrassed, but he seems just as ruined as you. 

Your orgasm washes over you, legs shaking as your mouth tears open around a sound that might be his name, might be something else entirely. Your walls flutter around him, and Jungkook can’t help himself anymore. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too. Can I—fuck—can I cum inside?” 

You nod like a broken bobblehead. Thank god for modern medicine. 

He empties into you, bruising your hips with his hold. He’s so attractive when he finishes that you almost orgasm again from the sight. His bare chest heaves, a slight sheen of sweat layered on the skin. 

For a few moments, you two catch your breath, letting his cock soften entirely inside you. He looks worn, eyes drooping. 

But after an eternity, you finally roll off him. You’re not sure what you were expecting in terms of aftercare, but your heart flutters when he lazily wraps his arms around you, tugging you into his side to rest your cheek on his chest. It’s comforting, with his hands playing with your hair, his own heart thumping along in his chest. Reminding you that you’re here with him, and this is real. 

Silence has never been so peaceful. 

You think you’ll fall asleep like this, but then he says, “I want to see you again.” 

Your heart softens around the edges, at the notion that he believes you’ll never speak to him again after this. You can’t blame him for it. It’s exactly what high school you would’ve done. 

But you’re not 17 anymore, and you deserve all the good he has to offer you. No more silly little games. 

“I would really like that,” you whisper back. 

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Mind checking your calendar for me?” 

You grin like a lovesick idiot. “Yup. Checking right now. And it looks like I’m free this whole week.” 

“Thursday, then. Dinner at 7,” he confirms. “You’re not going to, like, make me beg for a real answer this time, are you?”

Giggling, you respond, “Maybe I should check that calendar again…”

He sits up, pouting. “Don’t. Don’t you dare,” he warns, and then his hands are moving to tickle your sides. 

You squeal, squirming away, but he just pulls you back against him. The laughs that escape you are so full of sunshine that you hardly recognize them. You’ve been living under a fog for so long that when it lifted, you forgot how bright life could be. 

“Okay, okay!” you gasp, and his fingers still. “Thursday. 7 o’clock.”

“There we go.” He kisses your forehead. “Was that so hard?”

“Hardest thing I’ve ever done,” you say dramatically, resuming your post, nestled into his side. 

“Liar.” His fingers resume playing with your hair. “You like me.”

You feel like a kid in kindergarten, caught passing a note in class with “do you like me? check yes or no” scrawled in messy handwriting. Like you’re on the playground at recess, heart racing because your crush smiled at you across the monkey bars. But it’s got you just as giddy. “I guess I do.” 

Jungkook reaches over to pull the blanket over you two. “So what happens now?” you wonder aloud. It’s an innocent question, but somehow loaded with more intent than you realize. 

“Now?” he yawns. “Now you let me stay the night. Then tomorrow I’m gonna make you the most fire breakfast of all time. Then Thursday, I’ll take you to the best dinner of your life. And then—”

“There’s more?” Your eyes widen in sarcasm. 

“And then I keep taking you out until you realize you’re in love with me too.”

Your heartbeat is quick but steady in your chest. “Pretty confident about that, hm?”

“Extremely so.” Jungkook yawns again, voice getting drowsy. “I’ve got years of romcom knowledge. I’ve read those Tumblr fanfics. You don’t stand a chance.”

He’s probably right. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you didn’t from the moment he stood in front of you at that cafe. 

Before you close your eyes and float off into sleep, you mumble out, “God, when did you get so hot?” 

it would have been fine, if you weren’t so clueless. you took his actions as nothing more than him being friendly, and comfortable with you and sure - you both dated other people, but he’d made it abundantly clear to every woman in his life that you came first in the peking order. naturally, this didn’t make them stay long.

he had a deep, twisted sort of obsession when it came to you, constantly needing you close, wanting to hold you, smell you, caress you in anyway possible. you let him, of course - you were a sweet little thing, you always assumed it was normal despite everyone in your life questioning it. you were asked a million times a week whether you and jungkook were dating to which you’d always tilt your head, mumbling out a confused no. whenever he was asked, he’d simply smirk, and shrug his shoulders, playing the ambiguity card.

you weren’t sly, however. he could see right through you. no matter how innocent you’d act, he knew you enjoyed the attention, craved it and needed it in a way that resembled himself - you were a mere reflection of one another. he had just come to understand his feelings first.

y/n and jungkook, a simple pair. you couldn’t find one without the other, and despite him being the openly touchy and expressive one out of you both, the only person who thought it was friendly was you. the irony was, you knew deep down it was all a facade you were keeping up in hopes he would never stop. it felt too good to change the game now.

even now, jungkook knocked on your door at 2 in the morning, hair messy, coming from one of the libraries after a long PHD study session. you sleepily rose from your bed, already half way to dreamland as you lazily opened the door. though you weren’t expecting him, you knew it could only be him knocking.

“did i wake you?” he murmured quietly as you yawned against the door, letting him in.

he walked in, placing his bag and shoes by the entrance whilst he watched you sleepily turn back to your bedroom. “mm, but it’s okay.”

he followed you in, watching you snuggle back against your pillow. “scoot over.”

you did exactly that, shuffling, watching as he joined you in your bed, taking over a large majority of the space. you groaned a little as his hands found your hips, large fingers pressing into your skin whilst he pulled you into his chest with utter ease.

“smell good.” you purred, curling your face into his neck. he felt himself visibly relax, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“it’s the cologne you got me.” he murmured down at you.

you groaned in response, pleased at his answer.

if anyone were to see you both right now, the last possible thing they’d ever assume you to be was friends and yet here you were. best friends, even, through thick and thin. you’d learnt not to question jungkook’s wandering hands, how it brushed your ass every time he ran it up and down your back. he, in return, didn’t question you on the way you’d steal his clothes, curling into them whilst demanding to lay on his chest, wrapped tightly in his thick biceps. a mutual understanding, if you will.

“hey, we’re still on for tomorrow right? jimin’s party?” he whispered down, causing a subtle shiver down to go down your neck.

you huffed a little. “yes. now shut up, i’m sleepy.”

he grinned at that, bunny teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he pressed quick peck to the top of your head, finding himself joining you into dreamland.

—

you could hear the boom of jimin’s house minutes before you’d even arrived, offering a look over at your best friend yejin who was a giggling mess at the back seat of the uber. the blonde haired boy was notorious for his gatherings, unlimited alcohol thanks to his connections, and a gathering of people that rivalled multiple parties combined. he was a self proclaimed man of the people, offering his large home as a service to society. or so he claimed.

you slipped out once you’d arrived, pulling the hem of your tiny little dress down. the vibe for tonight was to have fun, find someone, get drunk, get ruined all before cosying back up in your warm, big bed. it didn’t feel like too much to ask for, and jimin’s party was the prime location to do it.

you followed yejin inside the too large house, immediately saying hi to people upon your arrival. within minutes, you’d both done your round, and you were finally walking up to your friends who were all mingling in the kitchen.

“hi.” you squealed at the sight of your party host, who grinned widely before giving you a big hug. “having fun so far?”

“jimin, this is insane.” you laughed, taehyung wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “more than insane, should of seen what happened 20 minutes ago, some girl slapped her boyfriend for flirting with someone else.”

“yeah well, had to try out do the other one.” jimin quipped, referencing his previous gatherings whilst already preparing you a drink.

“the fact you’ve managed that is insane.” yejin grimaced whilst taking a sip of the concoction yoongi had prepared.

your eyes flickered to the tall, tatted boy stood by the wall, back pressed against the surface. a loose tshirt sat on his figure, and though it shielded you from seeing the hard panels on his body, the sheer expanse of his shoulders were enough to have your legs move towards him within seconds.

jungkook was staring at you, gaze as intense as ever. his tongue draped over his bottom lip momentarily, wetting it at the mere sight of you. “hi.” he murmured down at you, lowering his head so his lips would graze your ear just slightly.

a shiver went down your spine. your fingers reached for his stomach, clutching his top gently. “already drinking? thought you’d wait for me.”

“been nursing it. don’t drink that.” he moved the cup jimin had given you out of your hand, preparing one for you instead. he was possessive like that, small acts that you could never pin point.

“hm? this tastes good.” you hummed, resting against him.

his arm slipped around your waist, done too casually despite the weight of it on your body. his eyes wandered over the tiny dress you were wearing, eyebrows furrowing.

“is this new?”

you peered up. “yeah! you like it?” you twirled a little, his arm loosening slightly. “got it today, yejin said it makes my legs look good.”

he grunted, half in appreciation and other half in annoyance that your mutual friend had you dressing in such a risqué dress. the thought of other men noticing you enraged him, in a way that wasn’t normal; not that he gave a fuck.

“i do like it. aren’t you cold?” he asked with narrowed eyes, hand returning to the bottom of your back.

you grinned into your cup, tilting your head. “that’s what you’re for, duh.”

at that, a smirk formed in his lips, the thought of you needing him in a way he was only more than happy to be was comforting to his obsessive brain.

the two of you muttered away, hidden away in a corner whilst your friends chatted around you. to the naked eye, you both appeared to be much more than the best friends you claimed to be. with your hands curled onto him, feeling his abs and hard chest under his clothes whilst his own were wandering up and down your back, often dipping low enough to touch your ass.

it didn’t register in your head that this wasn’t a normal thing. that friends shouldn’t touch each other so intimately, especially not ones that were as close as you and jungkook. the mask of friendship acted as a guide for you both, offering a rope of direction despite both of you often letting go, making your own decisions that completely disregarded what was supposed to be.

“gonna go to the bathroom.” you groaned suddenly.

jungkook had been stood in front of you, leaned over so you were caged against the wall, forcing you to push his chest lightly. “want me to come with?”

“what, so you can watch me piss? does that get you off?” you teased, watching as he rolled his eyes.

his tongue pushed against his cheek. “yeah, yeah, hurry up. i’ll hold your drink.”

you giggled to yourself, loving how riled up he’d get at a mere poke or jab, before sliding out of his grip, feeling his fingers tighten against you before letting go. jungkook watched you walk away, greedily taking in every inch of skin he could get. from your legs to your arms, the way your ass looked so fucking good in that dress. he let out a quiet groan.

you walked up the stairs, avoiding the moans emitting from different rooms like the plague. slipping into the bathroom, you quickly did your business before looking in the mirror whilst washing your hands. the alcohol had allowed for a flush against your cheeks and your pupils were dilated, you felt a rush all over your body. tonight was supposed to be chill, but the air felt electric.

you weren’t sure if it was the music, the amount of people or even the selection of drinks - but you felt slightly out of it. you shook your head, forcing yourself to stay present again before you began walking back to your best friend, almost too excitedly.

unfortunately for you, by the time you were slipping back into the kitchen, your tatted friend wasn’t there anymore, with hobi letting you know he’d gone into the main foyer. you, of course, listened and snuck between multiple people, exploring the house in a bid to find jungkook.

you huffed a little, realising he wasn’t there either. curse jimin, you thought, who needed a house this big anyway? your legs travelled around the expanse of the house, feeling slightly annoyed at the loss of your best friend who was usually stuck to your hip. you knew he preferred to stick together on nights like this, so you weren’t sure where he could be.

your legs took you to the living room, finding him leaning towards a corner which made your head tilt slightly, walking over immediately only to be stopped in your tracks the second you realised what was going on.

he had a girl in front of him, tall and leggy, and it took you no time to figure out who it was. yuna. his on and off ex of two years, toxic as could be, the one woman in the entire world you truly couldn’t stand whatsoever. unbeknownst to you, everytime you’d get into a relationship or begin seeing anyone, jungkook would return to her as a distraction, in hopes of making you jealous, to evoke any emotion he physically could. was it healthy? certainly not, but he didn’t really care for anyone that wasn’t you anyway.

you weren’t privy to this information, which meant your disdain for the frankly horrible woman felt unfounded. you felt guilty whenever you’d think about it, knowing you didn’t like her simply because she had jungkook when he felt more yours than anyone else’s, not that you could ever discuss that with anyone. you huffed at the sight, arms crossed whilst staring right at them.

you both had made a pact. you’d broken up with your ex boyfriend a few months ago, and at the time you felt like it was potentially a mistake, but jungkook had talked you out of it. said if you don’t go back, he wouldn’t go back to his ex either and selfishly, you knew that was what you wanted. yeah, you might have missed your ex, but the secret possibility of having him all to yourself was too much not to indulge in. seeing him now, however, had you drowning in annoyance.

yuna’s gaze flickered over jungkook’s shoulder, noticing you stood a few metres away looking at them openly. she wasn’t very fond of you either. it was hard to stomach the fact she would always be second in jungkook’s eyes, if even that, compared to the best friend he kept so closely to him. you could call and he’d drop the entire world to be by your side, so it made her bitter, naturally. seeing you stood there, visibly losing in comparison to her made a small smirk form as she tilted her head upwards to look at jungkook, her hands suddenly sliding all over his chest and shoulders.

you scoffed, deciding you’d had enough as you turned on your heel and exited the room with a grumble. if he wanted her so bad, he could have her, you didn’t care. he wasn’t allowed to come back to yours after though, a broken promise is still a broken promise and you held a grudge like no one else.

“now what’s got you frowning at a party like this?” jin questioned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, seemingly appearing out of no where as you trudged to the kitchen to get drunk.

“nothing. it’s stupid.” you shook your head.

“probably, but if it’s upset you, let’s talk.”

you sighed, as you grabbed the bottle of vodka, making a concoction you knew would be too strong for you to handle. you were a lightweight after all. “jungkook’s in a corner getting all close with yuna.”exess

“stupid boy.” he shook his head. “are you upset because you don’t like seeing them together?” he asked, leaning against the fridge, watching as yoongi and jimin walked in, seemingly with the same idea as you.

“what..no it’s not that.” your cheeks flushed, a cheeky grin forming on his face that jimin was beginning to rival, understanding the context of the conversation immediately. “yeah? why you getting all red then?” the younger man teased.

“shut up.” you hissed, making him throw his hands up.

“okay. let’s say for arguments sake you’re not jealous, are you really gonna let that something as silly as that ruin your night?” jin asked, bumping your hip whilst making his own drink. “you can’t let his bad decisions dictate how you feel, enjoy yourself.”

“god. boring. don’t listen to him, y/n.” jimin huffed, grabbing your arms and twirling you a little. “don’t get upset. get even.”

“huh?” yoongi asked, eyes narrowing. “okay, feels like it goes without saying that you shouldn’t listen to jimin right now.”

you were intrigued, however. “what do you mean?” you asked, peering at him.

“get even.” he reiterated with a smirk. “gotta play him by his own game.”

“yeah, well, it’s not like my ex is here.” you grumbled at him, taking a sip of your too harsh drink, making you wince. jin tutted, stealing it out of your hand and making you another, more appropriate one.

jimin’s smirk could have rivaled the cheshire cat, with the way it pinned to either side of his face, clearly loving this game. he knew about jungkook’s feelings for you, and about the hidden feelings you could barely admit to yourself - wasn’t it time he had some fun, and made sure progress was being made?

“ah, but i have something better.” he tutted, leading you out to the entrance of the kitchen so you could look out all of the people here. “so many eligible bachelors. why go for something you’re used to, when you could try something new?”

you pondered his words whilst you heard yoongi groan, taking the drink jin was preparing for you and downing it himself.

soon enough, you had found yourself the perfect man. you couldn’t really remember his name, jaehoon, jaehyun, something along those lines - not that it really mattered. he was the right fit for what you needed. you flirted in a way you knew worked best, eyelashes fluttering and a few casual touches here and there, he was practically smitten by the end.

you’d even gotten up to dance, his hands travelling all over the expanse of your stomach, your hips and hair. he was letting you know exactly what he felt and what he was thinking through his eager touch. normally, you’d feel disgusted, you weren’t someone that revelled in attention like this but it was hard to think when you were being guided by jealousy.

“wanna get out of here?” he whispered down at you, voice heavy with intent.

at first, you faltered, as though ice water had been splashed onto your face, suddenly aware of what you were doing. one look upwards and you noticed jungkook wasn’t even around you, and for some stupid reason you couldn’t rationalise, it made you angry. he broke the pact. he had you walking around the party looking for him. him and his touches, wandering hands and fleeting looks - you knew friends didn’t do that, but it was jungkook. it was okay if it was him, you preferred it even, and yet here you stood, about to make the biggest mistake of your life out of pure ego.

“yeah.” you huffed a little, carried away by your thoughts.

the man in front of you couldn’t believe his luck, you were easily one of the prettiest girls at the whole party and entirely out of his league so he wasn’t about to waste a single minute. he took your hand, smirk big whilst leading you through the house, and towards the door.

you passed some of your friends, who were all looking at you inquisitively, managing to get to the foyer before you were so rudely stopped by a hand yanking your own away from his grip.

“what the fuck are you doing?” jungkook appeared, chest big and shoulders as wide as they could be.

he was inching towards the shorter man, eyes narrowed dangerously as though something completely unfathomable was taking place in front of him.

“who are you?” his eyebrows narrowed. “let go.” you hissed at the same time, yanking your hand out of his grip.

he turned to you, eyebrows furrowing in half confusion and annoyance. “what, you’re gonna leave with this guy? are you fucking stupid?”

“what’s it to you?” your eyes were matching his in emotion, whilst the man beside you watched you both in confusion. “listen, man, she told me she was single..”

“yeah, well she’s not.” he broke eye contact; facing him once more. “touch my girl again and i’ll fucking kill you.”

that was all he needed to hear; backing down immediately and all but scurrying away. jungkook was very well known, he had a presence that made most men uncomfortable, a cocktail mix of strength and anger that anyone would shy away from. it was secretly one of your favourite things about him, you were convinced he was invincible - the thought of him being able to protect you so thoroughly had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“jungkook.” you hissed once more, anger bubbling in your stomach.

he didn’t bother to respond, grabbing you by your hips and pushing you almost harshly against the wall, secretly making sure your head didn’t bang. “what was that? leaving with some guy, you don’t even know who he was.”

“would it have been better if it was someone i knew, then?” you scoffed, hands gripping his shirt where his hardened chest sat beneath, pushing him away though he didn’t budge whatsoever. stupid, concrete body.

his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. “you don’t fucking leave with anyone that isn’t me, you hear me?”

you rolled your eyes. “you don’t get to act all innocent with me, i’m surprised you’re not upstairs with yuna right now.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i saw you, so don’t even bother.” you huffed, pushing him by his chest once more only for him to grab your hands, pinning them to the wall above you.

“yeah? tell me what you saw, hm.” he darkly whispered down at you. “did you hear what we were talking about, or are you jumping to conclusions?”

you wiggled slightly, his chest now all but pressed against yours. this position was entirely indecent, and if either of you were more aware of your surroundings, you’d be thankful that everyone was currently too drunk to notice you.

“you said you wouldn’t talk to her anymore, that was the pact.” you hissed. “you promised and now you’ve broken it, so i can do whatever i want, you don’t get to dictate my decisions.”

he scoffed in your face, and your eyes widened lightly at the mere audacity, wiggling again against his grip. all this was doing was pushing your body tighter against him.

“you know, if you had stuck around longer than 5 seconds you would have actually heard what we were talking about.” he all but grumbled. “she approached me, wouldn’t leave me alone, i’ve spent the last 15 minutes telling her to fuck off, that i’ve only got my eyes on one girl, only have time for you.”

you stopped wiggling, his words hitting you one after the other.

“imagine my fucking surprise when i try find you, only to find some fuck leading you out of this place.” his face was dangerously close to yours. “what were you planning, y/n? trying to get me angry? was that your game plan?”

you didn’t respond, nervously keeping eye contact. your thighs were pressed against each other tightly, a sick part of you enjoying this more than anything, the way he was being a little rougher with you whilst still being protective - it made your brain sing.

“and what would you have done once you were both alone, hm? he wanted to fuck you.” he growled harshly, making you grumble under your breath. “you think a guy like that is worth fucking?”

“okay, fine, i shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. but you still broke the pact.” you weakly pushed back, your ego too high to let him win.

jungkook knew it, knew the only reason you’d gone so far was out of jealousy and it made his heart clench harshly - it felt fucking incredible. his girl, his y/n, so bothered at the sight of another woman staking their claim on him that you’d become this blind? if only you knew the way he had shut yuna down, leaving the girl practically in tears after he explained how deeply his heart and brain were intertwined into you - that he’d take morsels from you if it meant being close to you, whilst he wouldn’t even look at her twice even if she’d offer herself whole. he knew it was cruel, but in that moment, when all he wanted to do was return to you, he hardly cared.

“yeah, i did.” he murmured after a moment, slowly easing your hands back down from the wall, now pushing them back onto his chest. he could feel your fingers pulling at the fabric of his t-shirt once more. “forgive me, baby. swear my intentions were good.”

you nibbled on your bottom lip. he was still so close, his nose bumped against yours gently, “fine.” you huffed a little, despite one of your hands drawling down to his stomach, feeling the tightness of his abs beneath.

he dipped his head so your cheeks were pressing together, his lips ghosting against your ear. “now, stay with me for the rest of the night. next man i see touching you, i’ll fuck up.”

and as you both walked away, you sported a triumph grin, not only having jungkook possessively lead you to a spot on the couch, but also have his wandering hand go from your hip to firmly grabbing your ass.

—

“how much longer?” jungkook groaned alongside yoongi, who sat beside him, arms crossed and eyes closed.

the two men were sat within the confinements of what felt like a jail, but was actually a mere clothing department. surrounded by pretty dresses and a flourish of colours, the pair felt utterly out of place, dragged here by either girl. yoongi and yejin had a weird back and forth that had been building for years, incredibly similar to your own relationship with jungkook? the difference between you, however, was they at least tried to be subtle for the sake of appearances.

“god, just wait, you’re both so impatient.” yejin huffed, whilst you both chatted away in your respective dressing rooms. “i don’t know about this one.” you murmured, loud enough for jungkook to pick up on the slight tinge of anxiety in your voice.

“come out, y/n.” he gently coaxed, noticing your feet from underneath nervously shuffling.

you did exactly that, however, your hair pulled up into a messy ponytail that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

“wait let me see too!” yejin excitedly rushed out, the lilac tone of her dress catching yoongi’s attention.

jungkook couldn’t look away from you. a sweet grey dress that hugged every inch of you - from where it sat on your calf to the way it dipped in at your waist. it felt like your legs went on for days, your breasts accentuated. you were perfection in a bottle, and the fact you weren’t sure drove him insane.

“i really like that, actually. you look nice.” yoongi nodded in approval, yejin walking over and adjusting the straps. “oh, you are so getting this. you look hot.”

you looked over at jungkook. it was his opinion you really wanted, and you knew it wasn’t healthy, but you craved his thoughts the most. he was soaking you in hungrily, eyes dark and legs parted slightly, causing you to flicker down secretly. he was enamoured by you.

“i like it.” he grumbled. “i like it too much.”

your cheeks flushed a little, pleased with your best friend’s approval. “you sure kookie? just think this grey is too moody for a wedding, and maybe it’s too tight?”

“it’s perfect. i’m wearing black, so we’ll match.” he shook his head. yejin grinned to herself before flaunting her outfit towards yoongi who was equally as enamoured.

“ooh, are you wearing that suit we got together at the start of the year?” you excitedly asked, shuffling over to him. you were now in front of him, his legs parted as he leaned back in his chair, your body inbetween.

he was taking you in, openly. from your eyes to your lips, lips to your neck, neck to your boobs and downwards. he couldn’t get enough.

“mm, yeah. remember you saying how much you liked it.” his hands were touching you now, on your hips, sliding over the material hungrily. “i really do.” you admitted, a small, too cheeky grin forming on your face.

yejin had returned to her dressing room now, you promptly doing the same, jungkook’s hands falling off of your body, watching the dress pool at your feet from the bottom of the door. he spread his legs a little wider, accommodating for the already growing nature of his length.

“hey, you guys joining us for dinner?” yoongi asked him quietly, watching as yejin walked out, hands playing with her hair. “dunno man, might have to pass, she’s kinda tired so thought i’d take her home.”

he nodded, watching as you too came out. jungkook admired you whilst you both said your goodbyes, soon enough standing in front of him, in between his legs slightly, like before. “you don’t have to come with me if you’re hungry, kookie, i don’t mind making my own way back.”

he scoffed, whilst standing, height towering over you immediately. “gotta take my girl home, hm?”

you didn’t want to admit the pounding that formed in your chest at his words and the ease in which he said them in. he took a hold of your hand, both protective and possessive whilst leading you to the counter, not sparing you a single glance as he paid for your dress. you had known him long enough to know he’d sooner die than let you pay for anything, another thing that had you kicking your legs and screaming into your pillow.

“wait, can we go to yours instead? just remembered my house is a mess and i don’t wanna deal with that right now.” groaning into his arm whilst you walked beside him, peering up with big, hopeful eyes.

jungkook wanted to scream. as if he could say no to you.

“mm, sure. you left your stuff from last time too in case you want to shower.”

you grinned wide at the confirmation. “hm, maybe i’ll have a bath.”

within the next half hour, you were in jungkook’s bath, soapy bubbles covering your naked body whilst you hummed in delight, candles littered everywhere to create some sort of ambience. you loved coming to his place, it was much bigger and warmer than your own apartment. his scent was also everywhere, which made your brain keen.

“you hungry?” jungkook called out from the kitchen, prepared to make you a whole ass meal at your mere confirmation.

you were away with the fairies, too cozied up in the warm water and scented bubbles to even begin to hear him. jungkook frowned, realising you hadn’t responded, making him walk towards the closed door, knocking lightly and asking again.

in return, all he got was a slight hum, as though you were confused of what he was asking. without thinking, the door was already being pushed open, revealing you.

your hair was pulled up in a cute little bun, whilst your knees propped up in the water, the only sliver of skin jungkook could see whilst the rest of your body lay hidden underneath the expanse of bubbles. he watched as you peered up at him lazily, as though this was the most normal thing in the world - as though friends were supposed to walk in on each other naked.

“what did you say?” you murmured up at him whilst exhaling a little, seemingly content.

his lip quirked upwards slightly, whilst his cock thumped against the expanse of his boxers and jeans angrily. if you shifted, just slightly, just a little…

“asking if you’re hungry.” his voice has become rough, causing your eyes to flicker over to him, before slowly trailing down, noticing the way he was evidently hard.

in all honesty, you’d noticed it constantly. whether it was you waking up to his morning wood pressed tightly against you, or whether it was at parties where you’d sit on his lap only to be left with a core aching for something you weren’t sure you’d ever get.

“not really. this feels too good to leave.” a sigh left your lips dramatically, making him crouch beside you, his hand dipping in the water slightly to feel the temperature. “that does feel good.” he confirmed.

“i even put the salt thing you bought for me. feels so nice.”

if jungkook was any other man, he wouldn’t have been able to pick up on the secretive tone you were using. but, alas, he knew you better than you knew yourself, which meant he could recognise the teasing tilt to your voice with ease. you were enjoying this. you liked seeing him rock hard for you, and judging from the way your eyes kept flickering down, you were just as needy.

“yeah? mind if i join you, baby? wanna see what’s got you like this.” he was suddenly so close to your face; watching the way your pupils were dilating, your eyelids hooding whilst you offered a little nod, almost delirious.

hungrily, you watched him. he discarded his top, his jeans. he made sure your eyes were connected as he was left with his boxers, his length imprinted against the thin material, watching the way your gaze flickered down almost hungrily.

“make some room.”

it was though you were taken out of your trance, slowly pulling yourself to the corner of the massive bathtub whilst he himself got in, his boxers sat on the floor of the bathroom. jungkook rested against the opposite side of you, his back against the tub whilst you did the same, the bubbles mostly hiding you.

him, however - no he was a different story. his cock sat heavy against his stomach, pink and long, thicker than anything you’d ever seen before. it looked angry, the way it was twitching, hard and begging to be touched, visible to his sweet best friend.

he watched as you stared, little gasps leaving your mouth as you hungrily took him in. you weren’t hiding it, something he appreciated greatly.

the problem with your shared dynamic was that neither of you were shy about how you felt, making it clear to the world whilst never discussing it to one another, leaving you in this tension filled relationship where you both wanted each other in a way that felt stifling.

jungkook watched the way your chest and rose and fell, hints of your pebbled nipples coming to the surface before being hidden away once more.

“you were right. does feel good.” he casually murmured, wet hands running through his hair to keep it out of his face, as though his cock wasn’t leaking pre cum in front of you.

you weren’t sure what to say, core thumping and begging for something, anything.

he smirked slightly. “but colder than i expected.” your eyes looked up at his voice, finally listening again. “c-cold?”

“yeah. warm me up?” he tilted his head, watching as your body moved before you could even think.

you moved towards him, water sloshing, not that either of you cared, so your back was now suddenly against his chest, your naked bodies curling into one another with ease. your nudity wasn’t an issue for you, and certainly not for him, but the second you moved, you hadn’t realised this meant the bubbles were now moving away from you too.

your visibly naked body pressed against him, whilst his arm curled around you. he could see your breasts, the way they jolted with every move, causing his cock to twitch much to your non-secret enjoyment.

“feels better.” he breathed down at you, air tickling your ear, making you curl further into him. your hands were against him, one on his chest and the other at his side under the water, but your gaze had fallen directly onto his cock once more.

“pretty.” you whispered up at him. his ego was beyond anything at the minute. what do you mean his pretty little best friend was perched, naked on his chest, admiring his fat length?

he nuzzled your nose, almost condescendingly with his own, eyes dark and dilated to match your own. “yeah? you like it?”

you nodded, curling into him further whilst one of your hands drew circles against his stomach, dangerously close to where it sat. you weren’t as innocent as you looked, and jungkook fucking loved it.

his own hand curled tighter against you, fingers touching just above where your own pussy sat. “been like this since the dress shop. you looked so pretty.”

the way he was cooing at you had your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, a small grin beginning to form. “i’m happy you liked my dress.”

“i fucking loved it.” he scoffed, drawing his own circles against you. “always look so beautiful.”

the ending of his sentence was whispered down at you, as though they were words too big for either of you to hear. it did nothing to stop your grin from growing, giggling a little into him as you nuzzled closer to his chest, your fingers brushing against his cock more openly.

you watched as it twitched, whilst his own hand was beginning to fall forwards, almost cupping your heat entirely.

“kookie…” you began, nibbling down your bottom lip as you nervously looked up at him. “can..can i?”

instead of responding, jungkook took his free hand and took your own, pulling it up to his lips to plant pepper kisses all over it. your eyes were batting up at him, enjoying the affection and attention beyond anything you could ever describe, before watching him take your hand, and slowly wrap it around his dick.

your little gasp nearly had him bucking up into your hand. the way it couldn’t wrap around fully, your fingers much smaller than his and yet you wasted no time, beginning to pump him slowly, up and down.

“you’re so thick.” your voice was filled with awe, and again, his ego felt like it was about to sky rocket. jungkook wanted to close his eyes, relish the pleasurable feeling of you exploring him for the first time like he had dreamt of on so many occasions. and yet, he couldn’t look away from you, the way your eyes were hooded and your hands were moving up and down in pure intrigue. it made him want to ruin you.

“my turn.” he whispered in your ear, making you shiver. his hand that was grazing against you, now moved purposefully. jungkook ran two fingers up your slit, groaning a little at how wet you felt. despite the water growing colder each passing minute, you both felt on fire.

you let out a breathy moan, head pressing against jungkook’s cheeks as your legs opened up for him, the two of you peering up at one another.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.” he huffed through a moan, your hand moving up and down his length. your faces were turned to one another, breaths mingling as your lips sat dangerously close.

god, you were so beautiful. jungkook couldn’t get over the hazy look in your eyes, the way your gaze only ever looked away to look at your hand pumping him, or his own fingers moving against you.

a loud moan left your lips once you felt jungkook push a finger in, deep and full. he wasn’t waiting for you to adjust, merely pumping it with a curled edge, hitting you exactly where you needed it. your forehead now touched his own as you adjusted your body, giving him more access whilst you too sped up your actions.

neither of you could look away, pleasuring one another as though it was the most natural thing on earth, both yearning to kiss each other and yet there still seemed to be an air of uncertainty. soon enough, he added another finger, watching as your mouth fell open and eyes shut tight.

“cmon, baby, want your eyes on me.” he whispered against you, pressing too gentle kisses to your face, making you whimper and nod whilst doing exactly that.

your hands were sloppy, almost unsure of yourself as the pleasure raked up and down your body. fortunately for you, jungkook was of the opinion you didn’t need to ever work, the concept both foreign and offensive to his mind. his hand darted out, taking a hold of your own on his cock and guided you, taking control of you whilst also fingering you, actions growing harsher.

“fuck. a pussy like this needs to be ruined. look at you; just begging to be stretched out.” his words were pounding in your brain. “bet you can’t think unless you’re leaking cum.”

you stretched your legs impossibly wider, water sloshing around you as you nodded along to his words, feeling them in the pit of your stomach. you wanted that so badly.

“jungkook, i can’t..” the moans you were letting out were loud and bouncing off of the walls of the bathroom, whilst you both grew more and more erratic.

his fingers ploughed into you, in and out, curling right against that singular spot that had you arching your back into him whilst he helped you fist his cock.

“you can.” he hissed, biting your jaw, leaving hickeys against your neck and jawline as though he had every right. “wanna feel you cum for me, sweet girl. hm? so good to me, just letting my ruin your little pussy. who does it belong to?”

“you.” you responded almost instantly, back arching as you felt something grow in the pit of your stomach. “all yours, kookie, always.”

he nodded, forcing you to look at him as he too could feel his orgasm approaching. your words were like a drug to him, feeding ever warped belief he’d ever thought. you were both on the edge, so close, so ready to break, feeling higher than ever in one another’s arms.

he pulled you in suddenly, fingers leaving your core and dropping your hand away from his own cock. you wanted to whine until you realised what he was doing, positioning your body on top of him so he could slide his cock between your slit, pushing the tip into your tight hole.

“you’re going to cum on my cock, y/n. you hear me? gonna fill you up, make sure it fucking sticks.” his words were so dark, so possessive and yet they bounced around your brain in mere pleasure.

your body was shaking, he was a tight fit, but he wasted no time, only managing to fit the tip and an extra inch inside before roughly thrusting inside of you, building on both of your impending orgasms. if you thought his fingers felt good, the painful stretch of only a part of his cock had you screaming into his face. he couldn’t stop, his hands harsh and leaving bruises on your ass as he clutched, chasing both of your orgasms. neither of you were thinking clearly, which caused jungkook to lean even closer and press his lips tightly to yours.

your brain blanked.

the movement of his lips, the way your mouths moved in unison hungrily, both of your hands moving against one another was enough to finally push you over the edge.

your legs shook whilst jungkook came too, a loud grunt leaving his lips as ropes of cum painted your walls, whilst you cried out in pleasure, the too harsh coil bursting all over your body.

you felt like you were on cloud nine, and once you had finally come down for your high, you realise you were perhaps out out of it for longer than you’d realised. your back was against jungkook’s, his arm around your waist whilst the shower head above washed both of your bodies. your legs felt weak and hard to stand on, but his grip was tight and made you steady.

“you okay?” he gently murmured down at you, with a small kiss to your forehead, causing you to nod with a little curl. “i feel so good.” you hummed, aching core a reminder of his love for you.

“good. did so good for me, sweet girl. fingered all that cum back in you too, so it’s all inside.”

his words would have scared any other girl, and yet here you were, quietly giggling to yourself like he had just said the most romantic thing on earth.

you reached over so you were turned in his arms, pressing your cheek to his chest, feeling entirely dwarfed in this position and yet it was exactly what you needed. the grin on jungkook’s lips rivalled that of a cheshire cat.

“cmon, let’s get you fed.”

the rest of the day was spent with you sat in jungkook’s arms, continuing your usual routine. you’d always been touchy, holding one another, nuzzling in one another’s neck and cuddling but this? no, this was completely different.

he had you sat on the counter whilst he cooked for you, shirtless, feeding you spoonfuls whilst he kept a hand on you at all times. later, he fed you from his lap, making sure you were full and satiated. once you were done, you both popped on a movie, watching until you felt sleepy, his arms carrying you to his bed. you slept good that night, feeling protected as you curled into jungkook’s arms, biceps wrapped around you and his fat cock hidden away in your gummy walls.

though neither of you rushed to talk about what had happened, you almost didn’t feel the need to. jungkook was yours, he always had been, and yeah you didn’t have a label, but you weren’t sure anything could accurately describe what he was to you anyway.

you fell asleep in the arms of the only man you’d ever truly cared about, body and soul, heart and mind.

—

you loved weddings more than anything else on earth. to be around people expressing joy for shared love felt pure in the sweetest of ways, and it was always an honour you held deep in your heart whenever you were invited.

you sat on a table with all of your friends. jungkook sat behind you and jimin to your right, the circular table wide and chatty, laughing with one another and clapping your hands excitedly when namjoon made his toast.

ever since that night with jungkook, things had changed. not in a bad way, oh contraire - his lips would often find your own in a sweet embrace, fleeting but gentle, his hands wandering inappropriately in their usual fashion but now it held more weight. you’d lost count on how many times he’d cum inside of you, it slowly becoming an addiction for you - you couldn’t function if he wasn’t inside you in some way. it was like a switch had shifted in both of your brains and it made you realise you didn’t want to pretend anymore, you liked his attention, yearned for it, wanted more and more and more.

you hadn’t seen him for a few days which felt like a lifetime, but your exams and your part time job kept you away from him, not that this was a deterrent. he’d send you videos you know you’d giggle at, or facetime you like he typically would. it felt different, the air had changed, and you found yourself longing for something you knew you could have.

jungkook had picked you up from yejin’s apartment, some of the other guys coming with too so you could all attend together, and he could have sworn you’d stolen his breath then and there. he’d seen you dressed for parties, or even half naked, but it didn’t compare to seeing you now. elegance dripped from every inch of you, your dress from the shop he’d bought you adorned on your body and your hair pulled back in a sweet bun, wispy pieces adorning your face. he was wearing the suit you loved so much, and the both of you couldn’t help but grin at one another.

on the ride there, the both of you sat in the back of yoongi’s car. his hand was against your thigh, possessive and meaningful and you found yourself playing with his fingers almost excitedly. you liked how visibly he wanted the world to know you belonged to him. made you feel good.

walking in, you weren’t sat together for the ceremony, with jungkook being further down in the row whilst you and yejin sat separately from the boys, much to his disappointment. this proved beneficial when he realised his position allowed for direct access to you, watching you greedily as he took you in. he couldn’t help but notice how many of the groomsmen were eyeing you up, and it made him clench his teeth but he remained quiet. a problem he’d deal with later.

the bride soon walked in, a vision in white, and jungkook watched the way your eyes utterly lit up, a little gasp leaving you. his gaze was hungry, obsessive, he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to - the way your small hands were clutched by your chest as though the mere sight of the bride had hearts pooling at your stomach. you wanted to be a bride? done, he’d get you a ring first thing tomorrow.

he was being quiet tonight, and despite now being sat behind you at the table, he’d not talked to you much. you were a slight over thinker, so you were assuming it might have been the environment, maybe he was uncomfortable at weddings? he didn’t seem uptight or anything, merely contemplative, and he was still being touchy so you assumed it was about something else as opposed to you.

silly little you had no idea that jungkook was thinking of the next steps. he’d propose to you, obviously, the title of boyfriend and girlfriend was insulting to him and he’d never stoop so low than to claim you in such a way. secondly; you’d get married, and he’d buy you a big house - he was already lined up for a high paying job that he was about to start, and he was pretty comfortable considering his family’s fortune. did you want a lot of kids? lord knew jungkook would give you a hundred if that’s what you wanted, or he’d live a life solely focused on you if that’s what you preferred. he knew you well enough to know you liked children, always cooing and complaining about baby fever to him as though he wasn’t correctly equipped to heal you from it.

after a while, you simply couldn’t take it anymore, pulling at his sleeve a little, forcing him to look at you whilst everyone ate.

“you okay?” you tilted your head at him, wispy hair falling into your face.

fuck, jungkook thought. you were beauty defined.

“yeah, i’m all good.” he confirmed, taking your tugging hand and intertwining his fingers with them underneath the table. “sorry, just been lost in thought.”

“what’re you thinking about?” you asked curiously.

he peered over your features, the way your big eyes were blinking up at him as though he held the answers to the universe.

he pressed a little kiss to your hand. “about how pretty you’d be in a white dress.”

you gasped almost immediately, catching the attention of yejin and seokjin who sat beside jungkook, before they looked away. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, chest beating hard at the insinuation of his words, gaze dropping to the way his lips quirked slightly at your reaction.

“why..” you cleared your throat. “why are you thinking about that?”

his thumb was tracing patterns against your skin, leaning closer to you for a minute. “i always think about you. feels fitting for the setting.”

your heart was beating. was he teasing you? you didn’t even need to think to know the concept of jungkook being your future husband was something akin to having heaven on earth. a man utterly, entirely obsessed with you, showering you with love and affection whilst being a six foot something adonis. the fact he was your closest, most cherished best friend since childhood only added a little cherry on top.

“shut up.” you pushed him lightly, but the dusting of pink in your cheeks was enough for anyone to notice.

soon enough, the wedding party actually began, with namjoon forcing all of you to dance and have fun, laughs being heard all around the room as you and other guests danced the night away. you knew you were lucky for having such a sweet circle of friends, all caring and uplifting, unafraid to make fools of themselves in the pursuit of joy.

you slipped away, grabbing yourself a champagne flute and heading out to the open balcony to get some air. you were having the time of your life, and despite having jungkook in your mind all of the time, it felt refreshing to be around such love whilst thinking of him. your best friend. your man.

a small smile formed on your face as you found yourself wanting to scream out loud, feeling so many happy emotions, humming a little as the nippy night air chilled the heat on your body, your exposed arms forming goosebumps.

“god, it’s loud out there.” a voice chirped to your left, making you gasp a little as you looked over.

a tallish man; blonde, green eyes. he was lanky, and resembled one of your exes. on any other occasion, you’d be ready to admit that he was undoubtedly your type, but at the minute, the only thing that could begin to occupy even one moment of your thoughts were that of big boba eyes and a bunny smile.

“you startled me.” you breathed, letting out a light laugh.

he grinned. “sorry.” he turned to you fully. “too much for you too?”

“just wanted some air. got myself a drink, so, can’t complain.”

he laughed in response with a little nod. you found yourself chatting to the stranger, finding out he was a close friend of the groom, was currently working as a lawyer, financially responsible, even had a dog. on paper, this man was the total catch and the fact he was being so openly responsive with you, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he clearly desired you.

however, you felt absolutely nothing.

sure he was attractive, but hardly anything could pull you away from the warmth jungkook provided. he felt like home. twisted, warped, dark and yet it felt safe, something you knew no one else could replicate. he’d known you since you were in pigtails, held your hand through every single thing you’d ever experienced and still stood tall. if not him, then who?

“okay, i’m just gonna ask. gotta shoot my shot, so..” the green eyed man, nate as you’d come to learn, turned to you. “are you single?”

your cheeks flushed almost instantly. you had a sneaky suspicion his interest was blooming from that angle and yet assumed the best. “oh..uh, not really.”

“that doesn’t seem like a confident no?” he tilted his head.

you bit your lip, a slight smile forming. “guess it’s complicated.”

“a girl like you shouldn’t be wasted on complicated. you deserve a clear answer.”

you peered up at him, nibbling on your lip and contemplating. “i know what i mean to him, we’re best friends…we’re more than anything i can describe, really. i don’t even know what you’d call us..i guess that’s why it feels complicated.”

nate took a swing of his drink. “what a lucky son of a bitch.”

you giggled at that, before feeling a heavy warmth against your back, thick fingers clutching the side of your hip and breath tickling the back of your neck, a single kiss being pressed against it. your brain swirled with content, recognising the touch almost instantly, as though you were tethered.

“very lucky.” jungkook all but purred into your skin, a small and almost shy smile forming at your lips.

the man beside you instantly understood this man to be the exact one you had spoken about, and the sight of you together, the way you both melted into each others touch floored him for a moment. you were right - this was the epitome of complicated. as a stranger peering in from the outside, he wasn’t sure what he’d call you. boyfriend girlfriend felt foolish, anything more would be too little, but the way you were reacting and touching one another felt fated.

he took his leave, the once disappointment that swirled in his stomach quickly replaced by an understanding - you were each other’s person. he didn’t stand a fucking chance.

“you scared him away.” you teased, whilst jungkook turned you in his arms, looking down at you with arms locked around your waist. “bad dog.”

“yeah, i guess i did.” he hummed. “been doing that with every man that comes your way for years. some slip through.”

you giggled. he wasn’t joking. not that you needed to know.

he twirled a strand of your hair. “you seem contemplative.”

“is a girl not allowed to think?”

“hm. i encourage it.” hands slowly slipped up to the small of your back. “tell me your thoughts?”

you bit your lip.

“what are we?” you asked quietly, as though afraid you’d break the peace in the quiet you shared with him.

jungkook didn’t falter, though. not that you expected him to, but you knew that it was an age long question that made most people uncomfortable. it was about time you realised that jungkook wasn’t like most people, and he hadn’t been for the past 15 years you’d known him.

he tilted his head slightly, so that your eyes would meet his directly.

“you are everything.” he simply responded. “i feel like anything i label you as is too small and it feels insulting, but i’ll take anything you give me.”

you nibbled further, nodding. “i know.” your voice came out a whisper. “i’ve always liked you to be honest. i guess i just put our friendship first because you’re my best friend, you mean so much to me.”

your admission was sweet, and he could feel it in the depths of his soul.

his finger reached up, tilting your head back gently and pressing a small kiss to your jaw. “i feel a lot more than like for you, y/n. think you’d run for the hills if you truly knew.”

“i wouldn’t.” you breathed out, pulling at his shirt, tugging. “wanna hear it. you can tell me.”

jungkook stared down at you.

“you are the only thing i ever think about.” his finger under your chin was now caressing your cheek. you were so delicate. “morning, afternoon, evening. i feel physically sick if i don’t see you, don’t touch you or talk to you. your voice alone feels healing.”

you breathed out a shaky breath of air.

“remember our pact? i don’t talk to yuna, you don’t talk to your dumb fuck ex.” you nodded.

“only reason i ever entertained her was because i couldn’t stomach the thought of him being around you, getting to hold you and kiss you. even now, i feel angry, feel sick even thinking about it ever being a reality.”

“jungkook..” you all but gasped out.

“i know it’s fucked up. i know it’s not normal, but my brain is warped. i’m obsessed with you, felt this way ever since we were kids and it’s just gotten worse and worse and worse. but i don’t care, baby. you’re it for me and i’m spending my life making sure you feel every bit of that, i don’t care if it means i have to tear this world and make a new one for you.”

your heart was beating out of your chest as you peered up at him, hands shaky and lips parted.

“you, y/n, are mine. i’m yours too.” he nodded. “so call me your boyfriend, or whatever you want, because soon enough, i’ll be standing up there with you walking down the aisle all pretty in white.”

he brought you closer.

“and even then, when you call me your husband, i’ll feel fucking sick. because it’s a cheap comparison for what i feel for you, what i wanna be for you - you’re one half of me, and i’ll never make you feel any less.”

peering into jungkook’s eyes, you saw a swirl of two things. love, undoubtedly, which swam in pools of ebony brown, curling around his iris and hugging the whites of his eyes as though it was the most natural thing on earth. behind it, bigger, stronger even, sat infatuation - deadly, all encompassing.

if you were a better woman, you’d run for the hills, recognise him as the apex predator whilst identifying yourself as his ideal prey. unfortunately for you, every line of obsession that made up jungkook’s entire being was matched within your own. you were every inch of what he was to you, you felt the exact same emotions, the same need, the same awe, the same primal want that you couldn’t explain to anyone else.

he was yours, yours alone and you’d never let him forget it.

you were both leaning in, about to kiss, reaching a new high and understanding when your name was called out from inside the building. within seconds, it seemed you were pulled away out onto the dance floor where the bride was ready to toss her bouquet, your figure hidden amongst the other excited women around you.

you turned, your intention to simply watch as red petals flew in the air, cascading through the crowd and landing gently within your hands, brushing your fingers gently until they found a home in your embrace.

jungkook watched from the balcony, small smirk forming as he too clapped alongside everyone else in the room.