You’ve never used the term perfectionist to describe yourself. And that’s honestly because you think ‘perfection’ is bullshit. It’s just an illusion. Something to keep artists from giving up, a hope that sparks their creativity. The teeny tiny voice in the back of their heads that say; this could always be better. 

Because it’s true. Nothing is ever good enough. So what keeps the wheels spinning is the hope that one day, you’ll be satisfied. Sadly, you never are, so you push yourself to limits that leave you bleeding and bruising… which has ultimately lead you to the top of your class. 

But as the cliche goes on… as every tortured artist before… you’ve just hit a wall. There’s a blockage, forcing your mind to blur and wipe away the routines you thought were etched into your memory. And the blockage isn’t just a mental, psychological wall that only exists inside your head. It’s just a few doors down the hall, pounding away at a heavybag. 

The reason for the immediate attraction you felt towards Jeon Jungkook was your similar mindsets. He too bleeds and bruises for his passion, however that’s the usual outcome of a boxing match. 

It all started with a completely innocent meet. About three months ago, he had stumbled upon the practice room you were in, lured in by the soft music. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for him to take a quick look inside. And there you were, polishing an already great choreography. Your hair was slightly tossed, tiny strands slipping out of your bun, framing your flushed face. 

The choreography wasn’t anything outstanding or groundbreaking, but for the untrained eye, it looked breathtaking. Jungkook pushed the door a bit further open with the tip of his sneaker, watching how you moved to the glittering music. He admired the way you were so immersed by the moves that your eyes never drifted to him. You hadn’t even noticed he was there. 

You just stared back at your own reflection, watching over as your body folded, then arched, toes pointed and light. There weren’t any abrupt pirouettes, you just tiptoed lightly across the floor, your lips parting as small exhales made their way out. 

When the melody softened, so did you. Your steps slowed, and your body folded once more, into a grand, quiet motion. You stood before the mirror, eyes closed, arms hugging your body, as you breathed out and let the music die down.  Jungkook thought it was the most precious thing he had even seen. 

Until you turned around.

You weren’t really startled that someone was watching you practice, it was common for people to feel drawn to the gentle melody and take a quick glance inside. What struck you was him, the fact that Jeon Jungkook, the brutal boxer, was watching you with an expression that could only be read as admiration. 

Everyone at the academy knew him, knew how ruthless he was. The best there was, truly, an undefeated boxing champion that was praised by the entire administration. He had talent, and he was going somewhere. 

But what you didn’t know was the inner battle Jungkook was constantly fighting. How he wished things would’ve been different, that people felt safe, maybe even comforted by his talent, instead of frightened.

Boxing wasn’t exactly something he was forced to do, but something he knew he couldn’t give up. There was too much pressure now, for him to become the best the country had ever seen. It was sad, feeling trapped in a sport he once fell in love with as a child. It spoke to him at a young age, and quickly became a way to release all his pent up aggression. But as he grew older, the thought of pounding recklessly away at someone until their vision wiped out seemed more and more like a horrible coping mechanism. 

That is why watching you, Jungkook felt a curl bloom in his stomach. Seeing someone move so freely, seemingly without being tied down… it was wonderful. He thought there was this blissful beauty to it, like nothing except you and your weightless body mattered once the music played. You had later on tried to explain that ballet is one of the roughest forms of art there is, but it’s hard telling that to a boy with a broken nose and bleeding knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he lowered his neck in a subtle bow, trying to appear as small as possible in the doorframe, which was almost swallowed whole by his broad figure. 

You stood facing him with your feet still in position, pointing outwards, the ribbons digging into the soft flesh of your calves. Your chest moved up and down underneath the sheer wrap, and you realized you were suddenly at loss for words. 

He had been wearing a large hoodie, the zipper open to reveal yet another black piece of clothing. It looked like he was covered in sweat, so you gathered he came from training himself. It was late at night, and all the other students were already buried deep underneath warm blankets back in their dorms, something apparently both you and Jungkook took advantage of. The perfect time to be alone in the practice rooms. 

You inhaled deeply, placing a hand on your hip as you steadied your breathing, “No harm done,” you said, swiping away a drop of sweat falling from your temple. 

“Is that for a performance?” Jungkook pointed his finger towards you, now leaning against the doorframe. Your brain worked unbelievably slow as he questioned you. The fact that you were now a person of interest in the life of the boxing prodigy before you had your thoughts mushing together. He wasn’t at all what you expected. His voice was a lot softer in person, and he seemed almost flustered. 

You nodded, your nostrils flaring as you breathed in, “Mhm, yeah. Just needs some polishing,” you said, turning around to the cassette player behind you, which had now gone completely silent. Jungkook’s eyes never left you. He stood tall by the door, fingers twitching at his sides, all too nervous to take a step further into the room. And he just kind of stood there for a beat, breathing in and breathing out before settling, looking over at you through thick lashes.

“… Do you mind if I watch?” 

The two of you instantly connected after that first meet. You think it was your mutual passion for passion. Even though you already had friends to attend to, you made room for him in your everyday life, letting him watch you stretch and practice late at night. Every night. He never spoke during your routines, never picked up his phone, never disturbed. He simply stayed quiet, admiration blooming in pink flush on his cheeks. 

It bothered you at first that he never let you watch him fight. You were allowed to watch him from outside the ring when all he did was train, but never once had he let you attend any of the events that turned physical. But you realized he wanted to shield you from just that part, so you let it go. 

Jungkook never told you why. He didn’t want you to know he worried that much. He wasn’t shielding you because he didn’t want you seeing him bruised and blood-covered, you had seen that before. He hid that world from you because he was willing to do anything in his power to keep you from seeing him hurt others. 

“Don’t you think it’s a fucked up hobby?” he muttered, sitting in a lotus position on the soft mat of the ring, re-applying the bandages covering his hands and wrists. 

You were leaning forward against the ropes, eyes narrow as you had just watched him spiral over not moving his feet quickly enough. It always hurt you seeing him beat himself up over the smallest imperfections, but you stayed quiet about it. You knew you act the exact same way, and that he’s just more aggressive.

“This, like, beating people up for fun?” his words were said silently, more to himself than you. 

The ring ropes dug into your elbows before you decided to pull them apart, lowering your body to step inside, and walking over to Jungkook who kept his eyes glued to his wrists as he wrapped himself up. “It’s not for fun, though,” you reassured, your lips curling into a stiff smile. “It’s more like a job? Right?”

He still didn’t bother looking up at you, and you weren’t really sure whether he was actually looking for you to answer or not. You stopped before him, standing tall above his hunched body. His hair was a mess, wet tangles forming in long waves over his eyes, dripping sweat down onto the soft ground. The black compression shirt had almost melted with his chiseled figure, and you watched his plump chest heave with every intake. 

You lowered yourself onto the sweat covered mat, using your hands to steady yourself as you copied his posture, folding one leg inward over the other. You let your hands rest in your lap. 

“People work at the morgue too,” you tried searching for his eyes, but you remained unsuccessful. You hated when he did this, when he got all in his head. You wanted to brush his hair back, cup his face, ask where are you? But you didn’t. Instead, you tilted your head, listening to the way his breathing slowed. “It doesn’t make them any worse than others. It’s just a job.”

It went silent after that, the only sound being the soft click of the overhead clock above the entrance. He nodded, you nodded. And he went on about his training, letting you slip out of the ring once again to observe him. Strained hisses slipped from his lips with every jab of his first, every swing of his arm. Sweat covered his temples, running down the sides. 

And things stayed like that for a while. Your relationship was gentle and intimate, completely different from all the other friendships you had made before. You met with your friends on the weekends, he met his, and you didn’t really talk or interact in groups. No one had so much as a hunch that you knew each other. Which made it all the more precious, a friendship built on late night meetups, revolving around what the two of you loved the most in the whole wide world. 

So why did he have to tear it apart?

The time shows 11:34 pm. You’ve been at it for almost three hours now, your body aching as you push it to the furthest limit possible. You have no idea if it’s to keep your mind from wandering, or to punish yourself. 

Your reflection stares back at you, perfect lines, perfect posture, but the eyes that meet yours look different. Startled and out of place… a deer caught in headlights. You exhale sharply, rolling your shoulders back to prepare your body. It knows this choreography better than your own heartbeat. You execute it flawlessly… and still, your chest tightens.

Again.

You repeat the sequence, slower this time. You land a turn so clean it should have satisfied you… but it doesn’t. Your mind can’t seem to let you rest. It works you open, tearing you to shreds as you stand there in the practice room; alone for the first time in months. 

Why. Why did he have to be so mean?

It’s not easy practicing when your mind has traveled outside your body and physically tries to drag you back to the moment that led up to this tension. You try shaking your head, try telling yourself out loud “no”, but there’s no helping it. 

You try again. You flex your aching feet, rising once more onto pointe, your muscles trembling with strain from being pushed too far. You work through the routine again… and again… and again until you feel yourself get dizzy. Your ribbon digs deeper and deeper into the soft flesh of your back, and you realize you’re having a hard time breathing.

“Fuck!” you hiss, stopping completely in your step, hands flying up to cover your face. Your hair has fallen completely out of your bun, loose strands falling over your shoulders, hugging you as you tremble. You can’t get him out of your head. You were fine before, happy, even. 

But now… you’re losing it. 

It hadn’t struck you as odd when Jungkook had suggested going for a walk around the campus. It was late at night, and maybe he just needed a break. You knew he wasn’t usually one to rest, neither were you, but you agreed. Wanting him to finally breathe out, to roam around freely without any further thoughts. This was maybe three days ago? A week? You have no idea. The days have started blurring together ever since. 

He stood waiting for you outside your dorm, telling you he wanted to walk to the pavilion centered in the park. For a moment the two of you walked silently through the hallway, side by side. Jungkook had never been much of a talker, unless he was completely freed of nerves, which had usually been around you. But tonight, Jungkook seemingly had a lot on his mind, so you let him stay quiet. 

You tried stealing quick glances of him, but his profile was swallowed by a large, black hood. All you could see was the tip of his nose, slightly red. You felt him shift a bit when you turned to him, tugging on the hem of his hoodie, his fingers curling around the thick fabric. You knew he had an upcoming fight this week, but you’d never seen him like this. He’d usually be more energetic, thrilled even, so this was completely unknown territory for you.

“Who are you fighting on Friday?” you asked, breaking the gentle silence between you. He muttered a name you didn’t recognize, still not looking at you or giving you any form of attention what so ever. You huffed out a laugh. “You sure? Seems like you might have to fight some inner demons before that.” 

“I’m kinda working on it right now,” he finally laughed, a gentle sound rumbling in his chest. 

The summer breeze wrapped around you as you exited the housing complex, and it was colder than you expected. You hugged your arms tightly against your chest, shivering a bit as your thin sweater tried blocking the wind. But you didn’t say anything, you just kept walking.

But in the crook of your eye, you saw Jungkook reach for his zipper. 

And without asking, without letting you brush away his kind gesture, he let his black hoodie slip off his shoulders before gently handing it to you. He didn’t even meet your eyes, it seemed almost like a subconscious effort. And it kind of was, he usually did things like this without thinking. Opening your gym bag for you when you reached for it, closing it again when you were done. Finishing your sentences when you searched for words, not to rush you but to help.

“Thanks,” you pulled the large jacket on, still walking, the fabric swallowing your frame. Your eyes darted to his now exposed arms. Goosebumps had already started blooming there, tiny strands of hair rising on his forearms. He noticed and immediately hid them behind his back, one hand holding onto his own wrist. 

The path curved, widening into the stretch that led through the small campus park. You looked more at the ground than the path before you, watching the rhythm of your shoes and his heavier ones scuffing next to you. Your steps were somehow synched. “Is Simon still giving you a hard time?”

Simon, Jungkook’s coach, a mean bastard, had been trailing him for the past few weeks. Non stop, scolding him for apparently not being in the right headspace to fight. He was ruthless, an extremely impatient man, and Jungkook had told you just how mean he could be. Telling him that it takes a special form of dedication to become the best, and that Jungkook’s had seemingly started to fade. 

You had tried reassuring him, telling Jungkook that Simon only wished the best for him. That he knew just how stubborn Jungkook could be, and that rough words were the only way to get through to him. And Jungkook had been a bit distracted lately, picking away at himself for messing up. So you couldn’t really blame the desperation in his coach’s scoldings. Jungkook was the best the academy had ever trained, so it really was crucial for them not to lose him.

“Yeah, now more than ever,” he scoffed, staring ahead through the silken fringe that brushed loosely over his forehead, almost covering his eyesight. 

A gust of wind swept across the open lawn you had reached, pushing a loose strand of hair across your cheek. Before you could tuck it behind your ear, you heard Jungkook’s hand shift halfway out of his pocket, like he was going to fix it for you… then thought better of it. He stopped the motion right away, fingers curling back inside. “That’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The wooden boards creaked under your shoes as you stepped into the pavilion. You slipped your hands out of the thick sleeves, running your thumb against your palm, trying to look as casual as possible, even though the anticipation was killing you. Jungkook stayed a few steps behind you, then finally moved forward, avoiding your eyes. 

His hair moved with the wind, and you finally saw it.

A bruised slit down his eyebrow. A blue spot blooming on his cheekbone. It shouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, you’d seen him bruise before. But only after fights. And to your knowledge, his last one was two weeks ago. This seemed fairly recent, not yellow in a healing way, but dark red. 

He didn’t give you any time to react. The second your eyes settled on his face, Jungkook shifted, angling his body half away from you, pretending to check the railing of the pavilion as if it suddenly needed his attention. You sighed, letting your shoulders drop low. 

“Jesus, Kook, this is starting to get really weird,” you groaned, turning your body away from him, walking over to the built-in bench of the pavilion. Before you turned to sit down, you tilted your head, watching over as Jungkook shifted shyly in his stance. “You can’t even look at me.”

“You’ll get mad.”

“No, this is making me mad. Just look at me and talk to me like I’m a normal person.” 

He did, turning his body to face you. The state of him had your stomach turning. 

His eyes pierced through you, glistening with a soft gloss that made them seem even rounder, softer. His pupils looked a little blown, staring over at you as he stood a few feet away. The muscles around his eyes were tense, pulled slightly inward, giving him this fragile, almost pleading expression he probably wasn’t aware of. 

Your eyes darted down to your feet, giving your head a slight shake before looking up at him again. This was unlike anything you’ve seen from him before. It was strange seeing this big, beefy boy stand before you, looking so lost. It tugged on your heartstrings, and you instinctively shifted in your seat, making room for him beside you. 

“Come, sit.”

His body settled heavy beside you, and you finally felt a brush of his shoulder against yours. He was shivering a bit, but it could just as well have been from the cold. You were wearing the jacket that was supposed to shield him from the wind. 

His hands fell into his lap where his thighs were parted. He twiddled with his fingers, and you looked down at his dark knuckles. They were always like that, split and swollen skin, dark bruises melting with his tattoos. But they didn’t usually twitch like this. 

He sighed beside you, his loose t-shirt moving in gentle waves with the breeze. You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, looking over at him through your lashes. His hair was flowing similarly to the way the fabric of his shirt was, he pinched one eye together when his bangs got in the way. Your eyes drifted to the two tiny dots on his lip, the marks that were left behind from his piercing. He would usually take it out when training or fighting, to prevent more damage. Same with the one in his eyebrow. 

Your eyes moved further up his face, to the dark slit that laid between the soft hairs of his brow. But you noticed he was still wearing his piercing. Weird. He was usually so cautious about removing his jewelry before engaging in a fight. Maybe this one came out of the blue. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about something?” you nudged his shoulder, your lips curling into a soft smile as you kept your eyes locked on his face. He sighed again, nodding just once before looking up at you. With those wet, puppy-dog eyes. 

“Yeah sorry—I’m just…” he said, his eyes flicking over your face trying to detect if any of the anger from before was still there. “Coach has fucking… been on me lately.” 

He huffed, his fingers twitching in his lap. You didn’t blink as you held his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. His eyebrows curled together just the slightest on his forehead as he sensed you were inspecting his face more than just looking at him. 

“Did he do that?” you tipped your chin towards the bruising on his cheekbone, and by the looks of it the damage was pretty recent, given the fact that his skin was pulsating underneath. He rolled his eyes with a loud sigh, his gaze drifting from you. You scoffed, a bit affronted by his gesture. “I’m not worried, I’m just asking!”

“That’s not for you to care about.”

His tone was so distant and casual you almost didn’t register what he said. Ouch. Why was he acting like this. You backed up a bit, letting out a laugh that was mostly a just a short breath of confusion and disbelief. Your mouth hung open, lips parting as if you were about to say something, but you were too flustered. He had been short at times, sure, dismissing. But it was never directed towards you. 

Jungkook clicked his tongue, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His hands came up to his face, dragging his down his forehead before letting his fingers run through his hair. You were still just looking at him, completely lost, extremely confused as to why this weird tension in him was suddenly poured out on you. He didn’t speak for a while, and neither did you. 

“Sorry, fuck, it’s just—” his head tipped down, the muscles underneath his large t-shirt moving in waves as he hunched his back further. “I’ve been all in my head lately.” 

It didn’t feel like you needed to add anything to that, so you stayed quiet, waiting for him to finish. You watched over as his face came to rest on his knuckles, breathing in once before continuing. “And I have this big tournament next week.”

Yeah, you knew all about that. He couldn’t stop talking about it. It would be the first time he’d be able to show off his skills to an international audience, possibly landing deals with companies big enough to take him anywhere. He had always been humble, but when talking about this tournament it seemed like modesty didn’t matter. It would be his time to shine, and he unapologetically took it. 

“… and coach can’t have me acting like this.”

“It’s just a mental block, Koo,” you tried reassuring, leaning a bit forward and searching for his eyes. He still didn’t look at you, he kept his eyes glued to the tall, dark trees outside the pavilion. 

“Not according to coach.”

“He’s just trying to make you realize that all this in-your-head stuff is eating away at you,” your palm slid to his back, caressing the twitching skin and muscle. He really was gone. You knew just how weird he could get when pressure took ahold of him. You thought maybe this was the case now too. That he was so nervous about showing himself off to a new world, that his mind was fogging. 

“Well, he’s being fucking unreasonable.” he said, breathing out through his nose. 

“He’s older and more experienced… he’s your superior,” your other hand fumbled forward, reaching for Jungkook’s face. Your tiny palm cupped his soft cheek, angling him towards you. And his eyes finally found yours. “I think you should just listen to him. He knows best.”

A twinkle appeared in Jungkook’s eyes, just a flash of sparke across his soft pupils. He nodded, looking up at you as was he still hunched forward, with only his head facing you. “But you’ll hate me.”

You shook your head, giving him a comforting smile. There was no way you could hate him, your bond was the purest form of friendship there was. You were certain nothing could break it. Although you did stutter a bit over his words. Why would you hate him?

He sighed, moving his head away from where it laid in your palm, straightening his back. His hands were still in his lap, but this time they weren’t twitching, he wasn’t fiddling with them. He just looked down at the ground, firm posture. And spoke.

“I’ll have to give this tournament, the fight on Friday… everything from now on… my all.”

You watched the back of his head as he spoke, straightening as well, sort of subconsciously copying him. Your eyes fell to the trees before you, and you stayed silent as Jungkook continued. 

“And since I’ve been so weird these past weeks…” he stopped halfway in his sentence to breathe out. You continued looking straight ahead... until he finished. “I have to distance myself from all distractions.”

Your vision blurred. The trees before you turned into dark green fog, the starlit sky disappearing. Your head tipped down before your brain could catch up. Of course. You’ll hate me. 

The next inhale Jungkook took was more shaky, but you didn’t even notice. All you could hear was the ringing in your ears, the three words repeating themselves over and over and over. You’ll hate me. Oh, Jungkook.

“… that means you.”

You had already gotten to that part by yourself, thank you very much, but hearing him say it out loud made your stomach turn. Jungkook saw you as a distraction. What a cliche. You tried shaking your head, still looking down at your feet, who were now curling inwards. You’d never felt more dumb in your life. Here you thought you had made a real connection with someone, over something so gentle as being in love with your two sports. Sharing the hope that one day you’d be the best there is. Apparently you just stood in his way.

There wasn’t much to say to that, really. What do you say in that situation? You can’t beg him to choose your friendship over his future, that’s not only an extremely unrealistic expectation, but also inhuman. You can’t change his mind, telling him you’re nothing but a supportive spectacle in his life. He needed you to stay away, so why was it so hard to accept that?

“You’re not allowed to have friends anymore, that’s what this is?” you stared straight ahead, your tone humorless, even though a breathy laugh accompanied your words. “You’re gonna isolate yourself, be a loner? A tortured poet? That’s what this is?”

“Fuck—I’m allowed to have friends, jesus,” Jungkook’s face flew to his palms, dragging them down his eyes, his cheeks, resting them at his chin. He inhaled deeply before his next words, to prepare both himself and you. “It’s just that… you’re—you’re not like my other friends.”

Your stomach curled, thinking you already knew where this was headed. 

“You know, all my other friends they’re… they’re guys, mostly boxers. You know? They don’t distract me. But you’re… you’re just a—“

Huh? Your mind stilled, but you kept staring forward, eyes almost twitching with restraint. Apparently this wasn’t going where you thought it would be. 

“… you’re just some girl, you know?” 

You could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes, you could practically see the drops blurring the edges of your vision. It was like all the organs inside you had been wrung out and teared open from within you. You couldn’t move. You actually couldn’t move a single bone in your body. So now you were forced to sit beside him, trying to push the tears down, even though all you wanted to do was to scream out. 

Once again, Jungkook tipped his head down, the weight of his forehead pressed flat against his palms. He sighed, a bit shaky, a hurtful sound. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“I’m sorry… but I’ve only known you for a few months. This—” he stretched his hands out slightly, gesturing toward the campus, “—is my life. My whole life.”

What on earth were you supposed to say to that? Just some girl? It was like everything you thought you knew about your relationship was flushed down the drain. The boy that had been so kind, so attentive, suddenly vaporized beside you, and what was left behind was this cold shell of a man. And when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, when you had decided you had heard enough, he kept going. Digging himself even deeper into the mess he had started. 

“And we both know we don’t have anything in common. I mean… it’s not fair of me to burden you with my fights when you’re supposed to focus on your cute dances.”

Your head turned to face his, abruptly enough that your hair flew across your face, a few strands sticking to your glossed lips. 

“My cute dances?”

“You know—” he stills, “I have to focus on what’s serious… I can’t spend time looking at you twirling around. You know what I mean.”

You didn’t. How could he, after seeing you strain yourself day in and day out, only view what you care for the most in this world… as twirling around? That did it. You had no intention of trying to shove any sense in his head, there was no reason to. If this was how he wanted to end your friendship, then fine by you. 

With a groan you brushed away the remaining hair stuck on your face and pushed yourself from off the bench. 

“I’ll make this easy for you, then,” you hissed as you got up, your bones nearly vibrating with anger and frustration. You turned to get a last look at him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to meet your eyes. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees while his head was tipped down, dark strands of hair covering his face. Maybe not seeing his eyes made it easier for you. “I don’t want to see you again. Even when you realize what a dick you’re being and feel the need to apologize. I don’t want you near me.”

He remained unmoving, it didn’t even look like he was breathing. Maybe he felt bad, but you didn’t care. If there was human decency still left in him, of course he would feel bad. But that wasn’t for you to attend to, all you wanted to do was to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Hope the fight on friday doesn’t knock you brain-dead.”

You spun around so fast you almost got a head rush. Or it might’ve just been the blood in your veins traveling at an extreme speed. Even though your ears were ringing, you still tried clearing your head. Hoping to hear his voice one last time. Hoping that he might call out your name and apologize, explain what he really meant. But he didn’t. There was no other sound than your own breathing, some distant chatter from further down the park. 

And there was nothing left to say. You don’t even remember walking out of the pavilion. Your feet just carried you, hurried your body away from him. The boards groaned under your steps, then there was grass, then gravel, then the open stretch of the park swallowing you whole.

Your fists curled deep inside the sleeves of the hoodie you had been given. His hoodie. It seemed so strange how he could suddenly turn so cold, acting like a complete different person than the boy you thought you knew so well. The thought of it burned in your chest, your feet moving in a frantic pace. You could’ve just as well have been running. 

But as you reached the path lined with lampposts, something within you started to give. The anger and frustration suddenly wasn’t all that prominent when you were all alone. And you realized how hurt you were, how incredibly painful it was to be dismissed by the one person in the world who you thought understood you. 

Sadness hit you without warning. A full, suffocating wave that rose up from inside your throat and made it impossible to swallow. A breath caught, then another, and before you knew it, your vision blurred once again.

There was no way of stopping it. You kept walking while tears just… slipped out. Silent streams that burned your cheeks on their way down before disappearing into the fabric of the hoodie. It was embarrassing, extremely hurtful. You tugged the hood over your head, pushing it low enough to hide half your face. With a strained exhale, you dragged both sleeves up to your face, trying to blot everything out as fast as it appeared. It did no good.

New tears kept falling, streaking even harder the more you tried to stop them. You buried your hands deep within the fabric of the hoodie, and trying to stop sounds from leaving you, you put one sleeve over your mouth, muffling your cries. And that’s how your night ended. A complete disaster, the cherry-on-top being the insufferable loneliness you felt as you were walking, down the familiar path, completely alone, crying ugly tears into the sleeves of Jungkook’s hoodie. It still smelled like him, which almost instinctively made you gag. 

The pavilion was long gone behind you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look back. You knew he was still sitting there, probably exhausted, slightly embarrassed by his choice of words. What you didn’t know, and what you didn’t see, was the single, wet tear falling from his thick, dark lashes. The trembling of his chin before letting it all out. Of course he waited until you were gone.

And now, as you’re back in the training room, you’re left as stupid pieces of broken, fragile porcelain scattered all over the floor, unable to recall any of the moves that before came so naturally. You find it almost humorous that Jungkook went on and on about how distracting you were, only for him to ruin your concentration completely. 

It’s almost like you can’t recognize the girl that’s staring back at you in the mirror. Her hair is the same, her clothes and body look the same. But it’s her eyes you can’t recognize. A pair of heavy, dark eyes staring back at you. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. 

You tell yourself, alright — one last time, and you get into position. Your feet rise onto pointe, but your ankles tremble harder than they should. You exhale through your nose, force your posture straight with a roll of your shoulders, and continue the sequence. But it doesn’t last long, you manage maybe six counts before your chest tightens and your mind wanders… again. 

It’s not that you feel lonely, now that he’s not here watching you. It’s knowing he’s just down the hall, so close, yet he doesn’t want anything to do with you from now on. He could easily, just by taking a few steps out the door of his practice room, be right here. He could be standing in the doorway, like the first night you met, looking at you with big, stupid, wet eyes. But he has chosen not to. 

All because you’re a distraction. All the while you thought the two of you were equals, but apparently you weren’t all that similar after all. Because he’s a fighter, a champion. About to be world renowned for his work. Whereas you’re just a glittering obstacle without any real significance. Just watching from the sidelines. 

Your ankle twists, and you stumble in your steps, hair flying to cover your shoulders, “Fucking—” you yell out, trying to ground yourself by crouching down, burying your face between your knees. Your chest heaves, and the music sounds muffled and strained around you. The ribbon digging into your back aches, and breathing suddenly feels all too hard. 

That bastard has your brain fogging, only for him to remain blissfully unaware of the war that’s going on inside your head. And he’s right there… so close. 

Fuck. 

Your feet move before your brain can register it. They take you to the stereo, and your fingers press down, cutting off the music. The silence that follows is soon interrupted by your hurried footsteps, moving towards the door. But you still for a moment. Your pointe shoes hurt like hell, it’s like they’re trying to melt into your skin and become one with your body… that’s how tight they are. You can’t let them throw you off, so you bend over, loosen the ribbons and rip the shoes off. They’re thrown away carelessly, landing wherever, somewhere inside the practice room. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach the door, push it open and embark on your journey down the hall, toward the familiar muffled sound of fists slamming into canvas. 

The door opens with a loud slam, and you follow right after. Your eyes pierce through the dimly lit gym, gaze going straight to the ring that stands alone in the center. Inside Jungkook stands, frozen in his step. 

He had been mid-combo, fists flying, shoulders tight, sweat dripping from his jaw onto the mat, but the second the door bursts open, he stops cold. His chest is rising and falling heavy, his hair damp, sticking to his forehead and temples. And at his sides, his hands are wrapped, the peeling tape revealing a pair of red and swollen knuckles. Looks like he’s been at it for a while. 

Slowly, almost humorously slow, he turns to you, eyes wide and blood-shot. 

“You had no right being that mean.”

Your words come out shaky, even though you really are doing your best to keep it together. Your fingers twitch at your sides, and you curl them around the hem of your sheer skirt, gripping onto the pale fabric just to keep your hands from shaking. It doesn’t hide much of your spiral, as you unwillingly pout, your chin giving a tiny tremble, enough to betray you. 

As Jungkook turns to face you fully, straightening his back, looking over at you from a distance, you take note of the beige bandage that covers up the bruise on his cheekbone from the day before. Or maybe it covers up a new cut, a bleeding one. You don’t want to think about it, this isn’t the time for you to feel bad for him. So before he has time to process anything, you move. 

Your steps are quick, almost frantic, carrying you straight towards the ring, and you stop just before the ropes, staring up at him through heavy lashes. 

It’s ruining you, looking at him like this, knowing it was you who broke, you who’s now seeking him out first. Jungkook still doesn’t move, he just stands a few feet away from you, trapped inside the ring, sweat dripping down his temple. But his eyes move, flicking over your flushed face, to your heaving chest, then back up to meet your eyes. His eyebrows rise just slightly, softening his look. And your stomach curls. 

There’s no helping it, your eyes water, and your voice falters, “Why were you so mean to me?”

You try pushing the tears away, but one manages to slip out, gliding down your cheek. It’s pathetic standing below him, crying over being dismissed, but it hurts. And it doesn’t help seeing the change in Jungkook’s face. 

His nostrils flare, his lips parting only to quiver, and you can tell he wants to explain, but that he’s holding back. You wish he wouldn’t, you wish he could just muster up the courage to tell you what’s going on. But instead, his head tips down, a drop of sweat falling from his forehead and onto the soft mat below him. “I’m sorry.”

“Just shut up for a minute,” your voice trembles, but you push through it. You try ignoring the way his pupils dilate, his eyes turning into black, glittering voids. “You owe me that much.”

Jungkook looks back up at you and swallows, after comes a gentle pout, one that makes him look like a sulky little boy. Normally, you would’ve thought it was the most adorable thing ever. Right now it’s just downright insufferable. But he at least nods, letting you take the lead of the conversation, mentally taking a step back. 

You tug on the sheer fabric that’s bunched in your hands, “You said this didn’t really matter since we haven’t known each other for that long,” you start, the tone of your voice more stable now that you’ve gotten accustomed to his flustered state of being. “But I don’t know, I kinda treasured what we had?”

The way Jungkook gently sways back and forth in his place, almost unconsciously, has your stomach turning. He really is just the same, restless boy that you’ve grown to care so much about. 

“And sorry if I’m wrong but I really thought you did too.”

“I’m sorry,” his nostrils flare once again, a pleading expression blooming across his face, but you hastily dismiss it. 

“Don’t make me feel bad for you,” you hiss, taking yet another step forward, standing just below the ring, while he still hovers a bit in the middle, a few beats away from you. “That’s not fair.”

The ring ropes stand tense before you, forcing you to look at him through the gaps. Jungkook’s chest heaves, the tight fabric of his white tank sticking to his sweaty torso, hugging his chiseled figure with every intake. His hands hang loosely from his sides, the tape around his wrists and knuckles ripping at the edges. His fingers twitch just once before he lets you continue, breathing in deeply. 

“You could’ve just said you thought we would be better off without each other — I could maybe live with that,” your breath wavers, and you narrow your eyes as if you’re trying to bore the next words into him. “But you had no right being that belittling.”

A flash of glisten wavers in his eyes, something just short of tears, you think. It makes you want to vomit, seeing him so hurt. But he did this to himself. You’ve been in a far worse state these past days, so this only serves him right. “You know how hard I work. You were in that practice room with me every night. Still you have the fucking nerve to make me feel that small.”

“I said I was sorry!” he’s getting desperate now, throwing out his hands before him almost like he’s begging for you to accept his apology. But you can’t, you’re hurting too much.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say then, huh?” he yells out, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. You still, your head retracting just an inch as your breath catches. Jungkook’s eyes flick over your face, from one side to the other, before he continues. “You want me to say I still can’t focus? Huh? That I can’t fight anymore?”

His hands fly down to his sides again, and it seems like the desperation has turned into surrender instead. And when he speaks again, you’re afraid your knees might buckle.

“Want me to say I can’t fight because I see you everywhere?” his voice has still that cracked, defeated sound, the sound of it vibrating in your eardrums. “That the only thing I can think of when I break in people’s skulls are your eyes?” 

A single tear, that’s all you give him. You try holding it back, but it slips out anyways, falling down your cheeks, leaving a stinging mark. 

Jungkook continues, almost out of breath now, “That I can’t fucking live with the thought of you seeing me like that. Being around someone like that. Someone who causes other people that much pain.”

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it most certainly wasn’t that. Your throat clogs, a tight and stinging pressure building in it, the kind that makes it hard to swallow. The fallen tear reaches your chin, and rests there for just a moment before dropping onto the ground. And it’s almost like the sound of it is enhanced by the silence, the tiny droplet meeting the soft mat and sinking into the surface. 

He looks straight into your eyes, never leaving, his bottom lip quivering with restlessness. And you can’t bring yourself to speak. So he does instead.

“Coach said it would be better if I didn’t tell you. If I just shoved you away,” a drop of sweat falls from his temple, landing on the mat with a soft, muted pat. Jungkook never takes his eyes off you, his soft, puppy-dog eyes glued to yours. His shoulders have dropped a bit lower, rising along with his chest with every breath he takes. “I just… I’m sorry I was so rough. I just thought it would be better if you hated me than missed me. Maybe you’d see it as good riddance.”

A shaky breath follows his words, as if it’s leaking out of him rather than being released. His shoulders slump further, and for a moment the undefeated champion in him is nowhere to be seen. There’s something so soft with him like this. You’ve always seen him as a soft and gentle guy, completely different from his boxing persona. But now he seems more vulnerable, and it eats away at you. He’s hurting just as much as you are. 

Your fingers twitch around the hem of your skirt, and then you move. 

You step closer until your knees brush the edge of the ring. The ropes are right in front of you, stretched tight, dividing the two of you. Your hand lifts. 

The ropes give under your palm, elastic and warm from the light overhead. You slide your other hand beneath the top rope and pull it upward, parting them just enough for your body to slip through. And at seeing this, Jungkook’s breath catches. 

The soft mat dips slightly under your weight, the feel of it warm and gentle… and you suddenly remember that you’re barefoot. Your feet tap lightly against the ground as you near him, trying to walk as gently as possible even when it feels like your knees are about to buckle. 

Jungkook doesn’t move, he doesn’t make a sound. His chest rises sharply, then falls in a trembling exhale. Sweat glides down the side of his neck, tracing the line of his collarbone before disappearing into the fabric of his tank. And he lets you get closer. But you stop just a foot from him. 

“I’m not this fragile little thing you have to protect,” a trembling pout appears on your face, a completely involuntary expression, but you can’t help it. 

His head tilts, and a tiny wince follows along with the click of his tongue, “I know, I just…” his head tips down, and for the first time, he avoids your eyes. His hair falls in wet tangles in front of his eyes, and you see the veins in his shoulders spasming underneath his soft skin. “I… I wish I could be someone else for you.”

You shake your head before you realize he can’t exactly see you when his head has dropped this low, so without even thinking any further, you reach for him. Your palm cups his soft, warm cheek, lifting his face gently to meet your gaze. You’re standing a bit away from him, and your arm stretches out as far as it can for you to be able to reach him. He finally looks back at you, towering above you, his broad figure blocking out the light beaming from the overhead lamp far behind him. 

Once again, you give your head a small shake, “But the thing is; I already kinda like this guy,” you say, your lips curling into a comforting smile. “I just wish you could see it yourself.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker, fast and barely noticeable, but you catch it. Again, that short-of-tears look, where his eyebrows rise and curl on his forehead. His lips part, not enough to speak, just enough to breathe. The feel of you touching him so gently makes his whole face twitch with restraint. And his gaze drops to your mouth for half a second before snapping back up, guilty and unsure. 

“I didn’t mean a word of what I said that day… I—” he stops, his throat working and brows twitching. “I hope you know that.”

“Now I do. But you still hurt me,” you whisper. Your thumb drags softly along the edge of his cheekbone, brushing over the warm skin near the bandage. Jungkook exhales again, shakier than before, his shoulders sagging and his entire posture collapsing inward. Finally letting himself feel how exhausted he really is, tired of restricting himself. 

“I’m sorry…” his eyes shut close as he’s breathing in slowly. Preparing himself for his next words. “The truth is… if it’s between boxing and you… I’ll choose you. Every time.”

Your eyebrows crease, and your breath is stolen from you. Thankfully, Jungkook continues instead of expecting you to answer.

“But coach didn’t really like that idea,” he angles his head, making you stare up at the pale bandage covering the bruise on his cheekbone. He winces as you press a soft fingertip against it, breathing out when you retract. “I never wanted to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want.”

His eyes move over your face in slow sweeps. He takes in your flushed cheeks, your baby hairs sticking to your damp temples, the nervous tug at your lower lip. He looks absolutely ruined by it. His pupils are blown wide, pleading and defeated, flicking over your face in nervous, frantic swipes. 

“Then don’t make me leave,” you breathe out. 

Your words have Jungkook’s eyes widening even further, flicking over your face again. Like he can’t believe what you just said. You just nod, caressing his soft cheek, letting your words sink into him. And when they do, he breaks.

He leans in a breath’s worth, just enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him… but he stops himself. His nose twitches, his jaw tightens, and you can practically see the internal battle tearing through him.

He wants to… he’s scared to. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

You close the distance just a little more, stepping into the space between you. Your hand slides from his cheek to the side of his jaw, fingers resting against the curve of his neck. His breath stutters at the touch, a tiny inhale that sounds like he’s fighting not to crumble.

“Kook,” you murmur, barely audible.

His eyes snap to yours, and with it time stretches thin… until he leans forward. The move is slow and searching, and it keeps until his forehead hovers just inches from yours. You feel his breath fan across your lips. He hesitates one last time, holding absolutely still, waiting for any sign that he’s misread this.

But there’s no chance he has, because you don’t step back. You don’t dare to let go. And before you, Jungkook’s gaze flickers down to your mouth again, and he exhales, a tiny, broken sound that gives him away completely.

Then, like he’s testing the waters, he nudges his nose against yours. Barely there, just a faint brush. His lips ghost over yours without actually landing, the lightest possible contact, and you feel his eyes close against your skin, the tingle of his eyelashes fluttering shut brushing against you. 

You breathe out shakily against his mouth, he feels it… and that’s all it takes.

His lips meet yours in the softest, most careful kiss imaginable, and you’re not even sure if your knees will be able to keep you stable anymore. You stand completely still, eyes still wide open, and it feels like your heart is about to leap out of your chest.

Jungkook’s hands hover at his sides, wrapped fists trembling, because he doesn’t trust himself to touch you yet. That is of course until your eyes flutter shut, and you kiss him back. 

The moment you do, everything in him changes. His breath hitches, his shoulders shudder, and a small, almost relieved sound slips from the back of his throat. His hands rise, settling lightly at your waist, fingertips barely grazing fabric. And with his touch, the kiss deepens. 

It starts soft, but there’s a hunger beneath it, months of restraint cracking all at once. The gentle press of his lips turns firm, then needy, until his tongue pokes through. You feel the shift in him as if a switch has been thrown. Jungkook pulls you closer by the waist, and you stumble into him with a soft gasp, your hands sliding instinctively up his chest. He walks you back slowly, blindly, like he’s not even thinking about where he’s taking you, only that you’re in his arms now and he’s never letting go.

The mat gives a muted squeak under your bare feet as he guides you back with steady steps. The kiss grows more desperate, teeth grazing lips, breathes mingling, his chest pressed tight to yours. Your back meets the ropes with a soft thump, the tension of the cords stretching behind you as your weight leans into them. He cages you in, forearms braced against the ropes on either side of you, every muscle tight with restraint.

But his mouth show no such signs, it work you over relentlessly. It’s a beautiful kind of madness, the way he kisses you, open-mouthed and shaky. His lips part yours again and again, tongue brushing, sighs shared between broken kisses. He groans softly against your lips, a deep sound from somewhere in his chest, and you react by gasping into him, fingers climbing to tangle in his damp hair, tugging gently. And thats when he breaks.

His arms slide around you, fully now, pulling you into his body; one arm tight around your waist, the other sliding up your back, palm flat against your spine. You can feel his heart hammering against your chest, the tremble in his arms, the way his breath hitches every time you shift even a little against him. You arch into the contact, your hand slipping under the edge of his tank top, meeting bare, sweat-warmed skin. His whole body jolts, and he chases your mouth harder.

“Fuck,” he breathes between kisses, his voice wrecked and hoarse, lips brushing yours with the word. “Never ever do as I say again. Don’t leave me again.”

You barely manage a sound, a soft whimper caught between your lips, and that only pushes him further. The ropes creak behind you, tension growing as he presses you gently into them. But he doesn’t hurt you… he never could. Even as he cages you in, making it impossible for you to move, his hands are careful, trembling in soft spasms. 

Jungkook pulls back just slightly, barely a breath of distance, and it’s just enough to look at you. His eyes scan your face with a rawness that guts you, wet and dark eyelashes, his lips swollen from kissing, parted with breathless awe. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, almost to himself. “Never leave me.”

Your hands cup his jaw again, thumbs brushing the sweat-slicked edges of his cheekbones, and you giggle involuntarily. “Don’t be corny,” you whisper. “Just fucking kiss me.”

He makes a sound, something that borders on a whimper, and kisses you again. This time, there’s no hesitation like the first meet of your lips. His large hands splay across your back, pulling you against him as if he can fuse you to him. The desperation of his kiss grows, and he parts your lips to let his tongue slip in, meddling with yours. You feel his hand slip from your back, trailing slowly down your side, fingertips grazing the curve of your waist through the thin fabric. The touch makes you shiver. And it doesn’t help when his fingers dip lower.

Only his knuckles are covered in tape, and his fingers are free to travel down your body. They ghost along the edge of your hip, skim over the flare of your skirt, and then, kind of hesitant, he finds your thigh.

Your breath catches instantly. It hitches hard in your throat, and your body tenses under his hands.

And when Jungkook feels it, he freezes. He pulls back just an inch, his forehead still resting against yours, but his voice comes out low and wrecked, full of restraint, “Is this okay?” he says, he’s barely holding it together, but still so gentle, not wanting to overstep any boundaries you might have. 

You’re not exactly sure how you’re gonna answer this. Because you don’t really know… you’ve spent your whole life focusing on ballet, and along the way, you’ve forgotten men and pleasure. How on earth do you tell him you’ve never experienced anything like this? How on earth do you tell him you’re a virgin? You exhale shakily, lips brushing his as you answer.

“Mhm,” you hum, voice trembling with permission. “It’s just...” your eyes flutter shut, and you brace yourself for his reaction. “I’ve never… done this before.”

Jungkook stills completely.

“You…” his voice breaks, his tone more high-pitched than usual. “You’ve never…”

You give your head the smallest shake, looking up at him with a wide, doe-eyed expression. With it, Jungkook’s lips part, but nothing comes out, just a gentle groan. His hand slowly retracts from your stocking-covered thigh, only for it to tremble at your side. And after a loud swallow, he continues. “Any of it?”

Once again, you shake your head. Your hand stays on his jaw, fingers flexing gently against his skin. And as you breathe through your nose, a small sound escapes you, making Jungkook’s eyebrows twitch high on his forehead. 

His eyes are wide now, pupils blown, his whole expression swimming somewhere between being completely flustered and impossibly turned on. He lets out a long, shaky exhale, and his forehead dips back to yours. “Shit, that makes this…” he murmurs, lips brushing yours again. And at that, you feel his fingers make their way back to your thigh, rubbing slow circles into the soft stockings. “… fucking impossible for me.”

When his hand tightens slightly around your thigh, you whimper, and the sound that slips from him in return is something between a breath and a groan. You feel his other hand drift down your back, splaying wide across the base of your spine, anchoring you to him. The space between your bodies vanishes as he pulls you in, flush against his chest, every inch of him trembling with the restraint he’s trying so hard to hold on to.

You lean in to kiss the crook of his mouth, then his chin, then the edge of his jaw, “Don’t hold back, Kook,” you breathe out alongside your gentle kisses. “I’m not so fragile.”

He shudders at the mixture of your silken voice and soft lips against his skin. His fingers trail slowly up the outside of your thigh, tracing the soft line of your covered skin, then down again, smoothing over the back of it in taunting strokes. You feel the ripping edges of the tape that’s wrapped around his knuckles, the feeling causing you to shiver. Never once had you imagined his touch to be so gentle, such a large contrast from the way his hands usually act. 

Jungkook’s mouth returns to yours, this time with more heat. The kiss turns messier and deeper, but it’s less more claiming than desperate now. He tilts his head, opening you up for him, and you let him take and take, because you’re giving just as much. Your fingers tighten in his damp hair, pulling him closer, letting him in. 

He presses his thigh between yours, and that’s when you feel it. The outline of him, the large, bulking outline straining in his shorts, pressing into you. It draws a soft gasp from your mouth into his, the sensation completely new and unexplored. 

“I’ll take it slow,” he breathes into your mouth, voice cracked, already unraveling just from being this close. He wants you to know he’ll be good, even though it pains him to hold back as much as he is right now. “And you tell me when to stop.”

You want to tell him no, say you want all of him, but you only shake your head, kiss him again, breathe out against his mouth in a soft moan as he presses into you once more. The ropes behind you groan under the tension, your body arched between them and him, but you don’t care. You’re not going anywhere. Whatever it is you’re feeling when his erection brushes against your hip, that blooming ache in your lower belly, you want more of it.

His lips drag down from your mouth to your jaw, slow and scorching, brushing kisses along the underside of it. You tilt your head, offering him more of your neck. His nose skims your skin, then his mouth opens against the delicate space beneath your ear, and you shudder.

As your head tips back and your lips part in a gentle breath, Jungkook’s hand shifts, sliding down your thigh, fingers curling under your leg… and before you can even process it, he lifts.

You gasp, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for balance as your leg bends at the knee, your thigh hitching up against his side. He supports the weight easily, his strength effortless, like you weigh nothing to him. The new position presses you closer, hips aligning in a way that sends heat rolling up your spine. 

But it’s the next move that truly steals your breath. His hands slide up the backs of your thighs again, pushing your skirt higher. The fabric flutters uselessly around his wrist now, no barrier at all. But this time, he feels the resistance. His brows furrow when his fingers glide up and meet the sleek, elastic edge of your stockings.

A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he smiles against your lips, “Why do you ballerinas always have to wear so many fucking layers?” 

You would’ve laughed if your whole body wasn’t shaking with need. So you kiss through his smile, tiny and desperate pecks against his parted lips, brushing over his teeth, his chin, the crook of his smile. A softer laughs escapes from him as he senses your cute starvation, but the sound turns into a frustrated groan as his fingers fumble uselessly for the hem. 

He pulls at the garter line, then slides down to your thighs again, trying to slip his hand between the fabric and your skin, but the resistance only makes him more frantic. You can feel it in the way his breath stutters against your cheek.

But you’re honestly no better… you might be worse. You feel fevered, hands twisting in the soaked fabric of his tank, hips twitching against his grip, nerves frayed from the tension. The silk and mesh clinging to your legs isn’t just slowing him down, it’s slowing you down. You need more. You need him, in a way that kind of concerns you. You’ve never had this feeling for a man before. You didn’t even think you were that much of a sexual person… but with Jungkook here, that thought goes flying out the window. 

So you lean in, lips brushing his ear, breath hot and trembling. “Just rip them off,” you whisper. “Tear them apart. It’s okay.”

Everything stills. Jungkook’s entire body freezes, completely, and you feel the sharp intake of breath against your neck. And when you pull back, you see it on his face; disbelief and restraint collapsing all at once. His jaw tightens, his eyes flicker, wide and blood-shot, then drop to your legs, the delicate fabric stretched tight against your thighs.

“You’re serious,” he says, voice low, stunned.

You nod and shake your head all at once, lost in desperation, biting down on your lower lip gently before you speak. “I don’t care. I just want you.” your voice comes out softer and needier than you’d like, but you’re too far gone to get embarrassed by it. And by the looks of it, the gentle tremble and high-pitch of your voice is what sends Jungkook over the edge. 

His hand slides back up, gripping the hem of your stocking where it cuts high across your stomach, and with one hard pull, he rips. 

The sound is sharp. The fabric splits at the seam with a jagged tear, slicing up and inward, and the air hits your skin immediately. You feel the rush of cool against your now-exposed skin, the torn stocking peeling back around the hole he’s made. Your panties show through, suddenly bared to the flickering gym light. And Jungkook apparently stops breathing.

His gaze drops, locking onto the sight of you, half-dressed and ruined by his hands. The silky pink of your underwear framed by the tear in the stocking… a mess he made. His mess.

“Fuck,” he whispers, reverent and broken, his lips brushing your cheek, your jaw. “Fuck, you look…”

You whimper softly, pulling him closer, your hands tangled in the fabric of his tank. And then you feel it… his hand, slow and sure, gliding up your thigh through the torn opening, testing just how much you’ll let him touch. But you let him have your all. Quite frankly, you’d let him do anything he’d like at this point. So you shift against him, restless and needy.

When you move, Jungkook rips the other side just the same, another hole splitting the opposite stocking, tearing a hole that ripples through the hem, opening you fully to him. 

He breathes out an unsteady breath against your lips, before his mouth ghosts along your cheekbone, lower, to your jaw, then to the soft space beneath your ear. Your breath hitches just the slightest as you feel his hand move again, never stopping. 

It slides higher, over the part of your thigh that’s now exposed, fingers splayed wide, his palm hot and trembling against your skin. His voice falters, a beautiful whimper releases from him. With it, his fingers dip, seeking the edge of your panties. And when they find it, the delicate band of lace clinging to your heat, his breath stutters against your throat. 

Your head tips back, and you’re so tense from anticipation that your stomach coils in tight knots. You breathe out, close your eyes, and his name falls of your tongue softly. 

“I know, don’t worry,” he exhales, and you feel his eyes flutter shut against your neck, his eyelashes tingling against your skin. His lips gently suck down on your throat before he speaks again. “I’ll make you feel good.”

Jungkook exhales, slowly, and slides his tattooed fingers beneath the lace.

The contact instantly has you moaning, the unknown feeling so electric that your muscles tense unwillingly. It feels so incredible different from your own fingers, Jungkook’s long and thick digits sliding in between your plush folds, brushing against the spot that aches and pulses for him. 

It’s incredible. His fingertips barely graze the wetness gathered between your legs, and your body jerks, the muscles in your stomach contracting tight, your hips twitching into his touch on instinct. Your eyes widen with the shock of it, the smallest touch, and yet it feels like a flame has just been lit low in your belly.

“Fuck…” Jungkook breathes, voice shredded and low. “You’re soaked.”

You whimper, your soft lips parting as your head tips forward, and he shudders at the sound, his forehead dipping to rest against yours.

The first stroke is slow. One finger, sliding up your slit, dragging deliberately through the slick heat. But Jungkook takes his time, and it’s killing you. He just watches you, watches how your lashes flutter, how your lips part, his gaze flickering from your face to where his hand is hidden between your thighs.

His eyebrows furrow, concentration blooming on his face, and his fingers run through you once again. A second pass from your entrance and all the way up, stopping at the swollen bundle of nerves he finds there. When he circles it, just once, experimentally, your thighs tense around him and a small gasp tumbles from your lips. The noise seems to wreck him.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, more to himself. “Just like that…”

He rubs slow, deliberate circles over your clit, mapping every tiny reaction he draws from you with the pads of his fingers. Your back arches into him, your hands clutching at the fabric of his tank, and your breath quickens. The sensation is maddening, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It should be embarrassing how you’re holding onto him for dear life, how he steals needy moans from you by just flicking his index finger over your sensitive clit… but you can’t help it. It feels absolutely wonderful. 

But he grows bolder… and lowers his hand, finding your entrance again, leaving your clit spasming and neglected. He groans as he maps out your sopping hole, and with a slow stroke, he presses in.

You inhale sharply as his finger slides inside, slowly, so carefully. The stretch is supposedly small, you should barely feel it, but your walls flutter tight around him, unused to the feeling. He moans at that, one of the most beautiful and sinful sounds you’ve ever heard, muffled against the skin of your neck.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he whispers, almost in disbelief. “Jesus…”

He doesn’t move at first. He just stays there, his tape covered knuckles covered in your slick, buried to the hilt, letting you adjust, letting your body grow familiar with him. You feel your muscles pulse around him, but he eases you through it, kissing the hollow beneath your jaw to soothe the tension.

Then, slowly, he starts to move. In and out in gentle motions, his finger gliding inside you in a rhythm that builds gradually, each curl dragging against that sensitive spot deep inside you that makes your breath catch. You realize you might’ve never figured out there was any pleasure to find back there if it wasn’t for Jungkook, his fingers so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only dream of. 

He adds pressure with every thrust, curling deeper, testing angles. The sound of it, the wet, quiet slick of your arousal around his finger, fills the space between your bodies, obscenely intimate. He leans back to look at you, and the expression on his face is devastating.

Eyes half-lidded, lips parted, sweat clinging to his temple. But more than that… he looks awestruck. Like touching you like this has undone something in him. His thumb drifts upward again, brushing lightly over your clit in tandem with the movement of his finger, and when the sensations overlap, the slow curling inside with the teasing flicks above, your legs nearly give out.

“Oh—oh my god,” you moan, soft and high, and your head drops forward to rest against his shoulder.

“Does that feel good?” he breathes, still working you open. His eyes never leave yours, and he studies the way your face crinkles with pleasure. He presses his lips together, breathing through his nose, causing his nostrils to flare. 

You nod frantically, too wrecked to form words, your eyebrows creasing, eyes growing into soft, pleading voids. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, dragging his thumb in a tight circle that makes your thighs shake. “You like how I touch you, baby?”

Your hips rock into his hand now, tiny desperate movements that he mirrors, meeting you stroke for stroke. You feel the tension mounting fast, white heat curling low in your stomach, every muscle clenching as your pleasure begins to build.

“Want more?” he asks, voice cracked.

You nod again, breathless. “Please…”

Jungkook’s lips part, a shiver rolling through him, and then he gives it to you. Without hesitation, he adds a second finger, and the stretch makes your breath hitch, your thighs trembling against his hips. But it’s good… god, it’s so good. He moves with both now, curling them inside you in slow, deep thrusts, his palm grinding gently against your clit with every motion. The pressure is overwhelming, a delicious, aching fullness that you didn’t know you could crave.

“You’re taking me so well,” he pants, fingers buried deep. “It’s not to much, baby?”

You whimper as you shake your head, hips bucking into his hand now, and he groans in response, the sound of it wrecked and helpless. His fingers move faster, building a rhythm that matches the desperate rock of your body. Your breath stutters, your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and your knees buckle. He catches you with one large arm around your waist, holding you steady, his other hand still working you with relentless precision.

“Don’t—please don’t stop, Koo,” you cry out. You’re close. So close that stars have started to blur your vision. If this is what real pleasure is like, then dear god let this become your everyday life. You’re so close that you’re dripping all over his hand, soaking the bandage that covers his knuckles. 

Jungkook knows you’re on the edge. He can feel it in the way you squeeze around him, feel it in the way your gasps catch and your thighs tremble. And so he leans in, lips brushing your ear, “Cum for me.”

And with one last curl of his fingers, one perfect circle over your clit, you do.

The orgasm rips through you like a wave, your body clenching tight around his hand, breath stalling in your throat before bursting out in a cry that echoes softly through the gym. Your legs quake, your hands claw at his back, and through it all, Jungkook doesn’t stop. He slows just enough to help you ride it out, coaxing every last pulse of your orgasm with his skilled fingers.

“Fuck,” he groans, watching you unravel in his arms. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

You collapse into him, boneless, face pressed to his neck, and he holds you. Just holds you, arms around you, fingers finally still, lips pressing soft kisses into your hairline. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. He just rocks you gently, your body still trembling with aftershocks, shivering in his touch. 

After you’ve caught your breath, Jungkook pulls back just enough to see your face again, flushed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like you’ve run miles. But you see his eyes widen, his eyebrows rising, and a flash of sparkle brushes over his wet gaze. He swallows hard, jaw flexing once, twice… and his eyes drop to your thighs.

He takes in the state of them, still trembling. Still parted for him. Still pulled up around his waist. His breath hitches, “Let me…” His voice cracks, but he tries again. “Please. Let me have you.”

Before you can ask what he means, he’s already moving, slowly at first, afraid you’ll tell him to stop. His hands slide down your hips. He lowers himself, shoulders dropping, eyes never leaving yours until he absolutely has to.

And then, to your surprise… he sinks to his knees.

Right fucking there… in the ring… before you. His hands bracket your thighs, spreading you gently, looking up at you like a boy who’s about to cry. And your spasming, overstimulated pussy leaks at the sight of him. Here you thought you were needy and embarrassing, but this might take the cake. 

His head dips forward, his forehead falling to rest against the inside of your knee for a moment, breath trembling against your skin. He looks up at you from the floor again, eyes dark, pupils blown, expression nothing short of worship.

“Tell me I can,” he whispers, voice hoarse, breath hot against the tender skin of your thigh. “Want to taste you.”

Your breath is shallow, chest heaving as you look down at him, this undefeated fighter, kneeling for you, begging to have his lips on you. His hands tremble where they hold your thighs, just looking up at you waiting for your answer. He doesn’t even move, he just stares at you with those dark, burning eyes. 

It’s insane to you. Just a few minutes ago, the only thing that had breached you were your own fingers… the thought of Jungkook’s tongue following seems so incredibly distant from before. But of course you can’t resist it. Not when he looks like that, a boy in full surrender, his large palms cradling the back of your thighs. 

“Mhm,” you whisper, the hum torn from your throat. “Yes, please…”

His exhale is sharp, almost like a sob, complete relief… and he lets himself move. 

His mouth presses to the inside of your thigh, soft at first… a gentle kiss. Then another, and another, slow, his lips trail upward, open and wet, a line of heat up your skin. You feel the scrape of his teeth once, just a graze, just enough to make your breath catch and your hips jolt.

You feel the softness of his lips, the heat of his mouth, the whisper of breath he exhales every time he presses closer to the apex of your thighs. And then he stops. Just before your center. His nose nudges the lace of your soaked panties through your torn stockings. 

He breathes in sharp. A shudder rocks through him, and you feel the tension ripple down his arms. His grip tightens around your thighs, grounding himself after letting the scent of you sink in.

Then comes the slow slide of his fingers curling into the waistband. He peels both your ruined stockings and panties down so slowly it’s almost cruel, dragging the soaked fabric down your thighs, letting you step out of them until the fabric hits the mat below you. His eyes follow every inch of your newly exposed skin, and when the lace clears your core, a thick, reverent sound escapes him, somewhere between a moan and a growl.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes, voice wrecked, and you can feel his hands tighten as he tries to control himself. His lashes flutter as he lowers his head again, mouth parting, breath washing hot over where you ache for him.

And now that you’re bare, he presses in, taking his time before he’s just a breath short from you… he kisses you. Soft, small pecks over your heat, on your thighs, everywhere except where you need him the most. He feels you shiver above him, gasping for hair, and smiles devilishly before diving in… licking you. 

A long, deliberate, devastatingly slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, his tongue flat, broad, and hot. The sound you make isn’t human. Your whole body jolts, your hands flying to grip the ropes behind you, knuckles straining as your legs shudder against his shoulders, “S-shit.”

Humorously enough, Jungkook groans like he’s the one overwhelmed. Like the taste of you is dragging him under, drowning him. He licks again, a little firmer this time, flattening his tongue and dragging it up the same path, slow and thorough, letting it spread your slick. At the top, he pauses, then licks across your clit, barely brushing the swollen bud, just enough to make you flinch and gasp.

Your hand flies to his hair, burying in the damp strands as he licks again, deeper now, more confident, the flat of his tongue sliding through slick heat like he’s starved. He groans against you, the sound sending vibrations through your core, and your hips jerk forward again, but he doesn’t let you move far. 

As you try moving, Jungkook grabs ahold of the back of your knee, hooking your leg over his shoulder, opening you further for him. Your balance is unstable, but his grip is strong enough to keep you in place. He follows your twitching hips, tongue circling your clit, teasing, then flicking precisely where it makes you gasp. His nose presses against you, breath hot and wild, and his mouth moves messily against your soaking pussy. 

The ropes behind you creak again as your body fights to stay upright, your leg shaking where it rests over his shoulder. But Jungkook is strong, too strong to falter, keeping you in place so you can’t run away. And when he sucks your clit into his mouth for the first time, you cry out helplessly.

His eyes snap open at the sound, looking up at you, watching your face twist with every flick of his tongue. He moans into you, the vibration making you clamp down around nothing, desperate and aching.

“Jungkook—” your voice breaks, “Please—don’t stop—”

Of course he doesn’t, he wouldn’t dream of it. Instead, he moves faster, tongue flicking and sucking in a rhythm that feels unbearable. His grip on your thigh tightens, pinning you in place. His other hand slips around and presses just above your mound, right where you’re throbbing. It adds pressure, forces every sensation to sharpen.

“Oh god, don’t stop!” you wail, scrambling for purchase, your fingers ending up tangled in his hair. 

He chuckles against your pussy, amused by your surrender, before he licks lower, tracing down to your entrance, and you feel the heat of his breath there… followed by the wet glide of his tongue pushing inside. And he fucks you with it. The textured heat of him slides into your soaked core, and the intrusion is overwhelming. But it’s not exactly the stretch, it’s the fact that it’s him. The fucking rawness of being opened and filled by his tongue.

You let out a sob, and he groans like your sounds feed something inside him. His nose presses against your clit as his tongue pushes deeper, and the combination makes you shake. He dips his head back and forth, his tongue thrusting inside you as he nudges his big nose against your swollen nub, again and again. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, legs trembling. “Jungkook, I—”

You can’t even finish. Because his tongue pulls out, and before you can catch your breath, his mouth closes around your clit again. He doesn’t hold back this time. His tongue moves fast, tight, slick flicks against the swollen bud of nerves. He sucks you in between every flick, the suction making your toes girl and vision white out. He circles faster, alternates pressure, and you feel yourself rising again. Pleasure coiling hot and fast at the base of your spine, winding tighter with every pass of his tongue.

And Jungkook is fucking restless, he doesn’t fucking pause. Not even once. He doesn’t even come up for air. He just keeps going, licking you like a starved man, groaning into your pussy like he’s addicted. His hair is damp against your thighs, sweat and heat rolling off him, and he doesn’t care. His whole mouth is soaked with you, and all he does is lick deeper, suck harder.

He pushes two fingers back inside without warning, and the gasp you let out is almost a sob.

“Jungkook—fuck, I can’t—”

“You can,” he breathes against you, fingers curling inside in perfect sync with his mouth. “You’re doing so good, baby. But i need you to cum on my tongue.”

Your legs lock around his shoulders, your body arching into him. You can’t even hear a word he says, the pulse in your ears so loud that everything else is muted around you. Your climax builds like a wave, higher, higher, dangerously high, and he doesn’t let up. His tongue licks relentlessly until it finally hits.

You come with a cry, every muscle clenching, your body snapping tight like a drawn bow finally let loose. Your hips grind against his mouth, helpless, and he moans into you, holding you there, sucking your sensitive clit into his wet mouth. 

Your orgasm crests and crashes, but Jungkook doesn’t pull away. He licks through it, coaxing you down with gentle, adoring strokes, his tongue easing the tremors in your thighs, his lips pressing soft kisses to the oversensitive nub of your clit.

It’s the greatest thing you’ve ever felt, almost like a ruse. Your vision can’t make out anything all that clearly, until you feel Jungkook’s mouth retract, and you see a large silhouette rise before you. 

Your leg slips down from his shoulder, and he catches you before you can fall, one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. His forehead presses against yours, his breath still ragged, lips swollen and slick with your taste.

His hand tightens on your thigh, hitching it back up around his waist, and your breath stutters against his lips. His forehead rests to yours, his chest heaving with restraint. And you feel him again, hard and flushed, pressed right against your core. 

Your fingers knot into his hair, dragging him close again. Even though your brain is fogged by your two previous orgasms, you know you need all of him. Need to please him. “I want you,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I want to feel all of you, Jungkook. I can’t wait anymore.”

His breath catches, and for a second, he just stares at you, eyes wide, chest rising, his body shaking against yours. Upon seeing the pleading, helpless expression on your face, his lips crash into yours with such force it knocks a gasp out of you. His kiss is fevered and rough, his tongue rolling in soft waves against yours.

Your back presses harder into the ropes as his body cages you in completely, his hands gripping your thighs, your hips, your waist, everywhere at once. The ropes dig into your back, stretched taut under your weight, but it only adds to the tension, the pressure you’re drowning in.

You tighten the grip of the leg that’s hooked around his hips, pulling him flush against you. The shift draws a low, wrecked sound from his throat. He leans into you, grinding his hips forward, and you feel him drag right over your exposed and overly sensitive pussy, so close to being inside that your head tilts back with a cry.

“Feels so good,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut. “Please, Kook. Need more.”

Instead of giving in to the desperation tearing through both of you, he finds your mouth with a kiss. His hand slides down your thigh, cupping beneath it, lifting your leg higher so your hips surge forward, tilted open for him. The sheer fabric of your skirt is still bunched at your waist, clinging uselessly to your skin. His other hand ghosts down the small of your back, slipping just beneath the hem of your wrap-top where sweat has collected. 

“Think you can take me?” he whispers against your lips. Then he grinds forward, dragging the length of himself against you, through the thin fabric of his shorts. 

Your entire body jolts, “Jungkook—”

“Shit—I’ll be good,” he mutters, voice guttural, breath catching as he does it again, digging further in, dragging the covered length of him through your fluttering folds. “I’ll be so fucking good to you.”

You gasp, hands clinging to his shoulders, back arching further into the ropes. Every inch of his cock presses against your center, teasing and torturous as he slowly rocks his hips forward. The way the swollen head of him catches on your clit through the ruined fabric, and it’s unbearable. Your hips chase his movement, breath faltering with each teasing grind, your thighs trembling.

“Please,” you beg, lips brushing his. “Don’t tease me—”

Jungkook doesn’t move for a long moment. Not until your fingers are curling into his damp tank, not until your hips shift forward, pressing your heat against the rigid length of him, thick and aching between his thighs.

He groans softly against your mouth, the sound barely human, and when he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are wild, but still holding onto that thread of control he’s so close to losing.

“You don’t…” he rasps, swallowing hard. His voice edged with panic. “I’m not small, baby. You’ve never done this, and I—”

“Don’t care,” you whisper, your voice trembling but sure. “Can’t wait anymore. I trust you.”

His face twists, his jaw locking so tight it looks painful. His hand flexes at your waist, “I’m gonna go slow,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “So fucking slow. You tell me the second it hurts, and I’ll stop.”

You nod, but he doesn’t move. Not yet. Because he’s scared… so scared of hurting you that his whole body trembles. But then you look at him, deep into his eyes, and something soft flickers in your gaze. Your hands cup his face again, thumbs brushing over his damp cheeks, and you smile so gently that it breaks him. “Kook,” you breathe. “Please.”

That’s when he moves. With shaking fingers, Jungkook reaches between you, dragging his shorts lower. And then… you feel it. The hot, heavy press of him against your bare slit, and your breath stops entirely.

He’s… massive. You’d felt it before, against your thigh, gliding through his shorts, but nothing compares to the heat and weight of him now, bare and pulsating. The thick crown of his cock rests against your entrance, already leaking, and the rest of him is just… obscene. You can feel it without seeing it, the kind of size that makes your heart stutter with something between awe and terror.

You inhale shakily. “Shit…”

Jungkook’s voice is breathless. “You okay?”

You nod, breath catching in your throat. “You’re… really big…”

He chuckles, because of course that’s something every man loves to hear. But still, he eases you. “I know,” he pants. “I know, baby. That’s why I’ll go slow—just—just hold onto me.”

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, trembling, as he brings a hand down to guide himself. You feel the broad tip of him nudge against your entrance, and everything in your body tenses.

“Relax,” he whispers, brushing a kiss to your temple. “It’s just me. You’re good. Perfect.”

Slowly… he starts to push in. The pressure is immediate, the tip of him stretching you open, breaching you for the first time. Your walls resist instantly, muscles fluttering involuntarily, and it’s not even pain, but the sheer size of him makes your body lock up with tension. He barely presses in half an inch before your nails dig into his shoulder.

Jungkook stops instantly, “Breathe,” he murmurs, forehead against yours, his voice shaking as he holds himself still. “Just breathe, baby. You’re doing so good.”

You exhale shakily, humming with a nod of your head, forcing your body to relax. Your thighs fall open a little more, your hips tilt, and that’s all he needs… a soft, aching invitation. He pushes in again, just a little deeper, and you feel the stretch grow. The thick crown of his cock slides in slowly, inch by careful inch, and the fullness is overwhelming.

You gasp, body going taut again, eyes clenching shut as the feeling of fullness crashes down on you. 

“I know,” he pants. “I know, baby. You’re so fucking tight…” His voice trembles, and when you glance up again, his jaw is clenched, his brow furrowed in tortured restraint. Sweat beads at his temple, his whole body shaking with the effort not to slam into you.

“I c-can take it,” you whisper, breath hitching as your muscles flutter around him. “Please… ‘need more.”

He kisses you again, and then he slides in deeper. The stretch is sharp now, bordering on painful. Your walls are straining to accommodate the thick width of him, your body fluttering and twitching as he inches further inside. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and he’s not even all the way in yet. Jungkook groans against your mouth, trembling all over. “So tight, baby. So fucking tight. Trying to keep me out…”

You whimper at the punched sound of his voice, the strain behind every syllable. His hand slides behind your thigh, lifting your leg higher around his waist to open you wider, tilting your hips. And when he thrusts forward again, slow and deep, he sinks further.

You cry out, not in pain exactly, but in pure overstimulation. Your fingers dig into his arms, clutching him, and he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your throat, “Taking me so good,” he breathes, voice cracked. “I’m almost there, baby. Just a little more—just—fuck—you’re doing so good for me—”

Your breath hitches as his hips finally press flush against yours, and you realize… he’s in. All of him. Inside you. And you feel stretched to the point of breaking, the dull, constant ache of fullness throbbing low in your belly. Your breath stutters in your chest, your legs trembling where they wrap around his hips.

He’s not moving… he can’t. He’s buried to the hilt, completely surrounded by your tight, untried pussy, and his entire body is shaking with restraint.

“Holy—fuck—” he gasps, his face buried in your neck. “I’m inside you…”

You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak. The sensation is too much, too big, too deep, and you think you might actually lose it. You feel every twitch of him inside you, every heartbeat echoed in your core.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Is it okay? Is it too much?”

“You’re—so deep,” you breathe, dazed and aching. “So full… I can’t think.”

He kisses your jaw, slow and trembling. “I know, baby. I know. I’ve got you.” He doesn’t move right away, he just holds you through it, lets your body adjust, lets the stretch settle until you’re able to breathe out comfortably. His hand caresses your side, your thigh, your hip, grounding you. And then, when your breathing evens out, when your fingers loosen just a little on his shoulders… he pulls out.

Not all the way, just a few inches. So slow and torturous that you feel the heavy drag of him against your soaked, fluttering walls, and low in your belly. But before you’re able to cry out at the retraction, he slides back in. You gasp insanely loud, your entire body jolting at the push. Your thighs try to close but he keeps you open, whispering soft praise in your ear.

“You’re taking me so good,” he murmurs. “So perfect. So tight for me…”

His pace is slow, impossibly gentle. He moves beautifully, mapping out every inch of how your body molds around him with his large palms. And for every shallow stroke, you feel the friction build, a heat that tightens your belly, coils through your spine. You cling to him, moaning soft and breathy. The stretching ache is still there, but it’s turning into something else entirely. A blooming, hot pleasure that’s completely unknown to you, a euphoria you’ve never before experienced.

Every deep thrust brushes somewhere new, and your body responds instinctively, rolling your hips to meet him, welcoming him, “Oh my god,” you gasp. “I—Kook, you feel so—”

He groans raggedly, burying his face in your neck. “Yeah? Not too much? Like my dick inside you?”

You nod as his thrusts grow firmer, still careful and controlled, but deeper inside you, hitting a spot you’ve never been aware of before. The slick and wet sounds of your bodies meeting fill the quiet space of the gym, underscored by your soft cries and his desperate, broken groans. You wrap both arms around his shoulders, holding him close as you try to stable your faltering knee that’s not resting around his waist. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers again, pressing a kiss to your lips. He holds you tight to him, not letting you go even for as much as a second, your bodies melting together. “I’ve got all of you.”

When you whimper at his words, his thrusts start to shift. Each stroke more precise, dragging the full length of his cock through your tight, slick pussy before pressing all the way back in, his hips meeting yours with a low, rhythmic slap that echoes through the gym.

You’re soaked, arousal dripping from your core and down to his thick cock, covering him in slick… and it only seems to make him more desperate. He watches the way your lips part, the way your eyes flutter shut and your nails dig into his shoulders as you moan beneath him. His jaw clenches, his entire body humming with restraint. He’s trying to take his time. He’s trying to be good. But you’re clenching so tightly around him, soft and trembling and still adjusting to every inch of him, and it’s driving him insane.

“I’m not gonna last,” he groans into your skin, his breath ragged against your neck. “You feel too fucking good—look so adorable like this—”

You whimper, your hips rolling up to meet his, and the friction of it, your soaked, sensitive pussy dragging over every swollen vein on his thick cock, makes you shudder.

“I’m close,” you breathe, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your voice turning needy and pathetic. “You f-feel so good, Kookie.”

The sound of his nickname undoes him. His hands tighten around your thighs as he drives into you deeper, faster. The ropes behind your back groan. His grip is still gentle, but the power behind his thrusts is growing, because he can’t help it. The pleasure is overwhelming now, buzzing like lightning in his spine. 

“Look at me,” he pants, his voice shaking. “Let me see you when you cum.”

Your eyes flutter open, just barely, but when they lock with his, it’s like the world narrows to a single thread. He’s above you, panting and flushed, sweat running down his jaw. His hair is damp and messy, stuck to his forehead. But it’s his eyes that break you, his beautiful bunny-eyes blown wide with awe. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, voice cracking. “My little doll…”

Your breath catches.

“You look so pretty like this. All stretched out on my dick—dripping all over me…”

Your back arches at his words, the heat inside you cresting into something unbearable. Your walls flutter around him, clenching tight and milking him, causing him to gasp, his hips stuttering. “Shit—just like that—” he moans, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re so close, I can feel it—”

“Fuuck,” you gasp. “I’m gonna—Kook, please—”

He cuts you off with a kiss as his fingers slide between your bodies again. They find your clit, slick and swollen, and he rubs you in tight, perfect circles that make you cry out into his mouth. “Want us to cum together,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me, baby? Hm?”

You nod frantically, already shaking, your walls clenching and pulsing around him. The pleasure is white-hot now, curling through your spine, your belly, building into a sensation that wipes out your vision and makes you cry out into his mouth. 

Your beautiful moans has Jungkook completely ruined. His thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the perfect spot again and again, dragging along every sensitive nerve until your entire body is coiled tight. “Cum with me,” he groans. “Come on, baby—let me feel it. Let me feel your little pussy clench around my dick.”

His words are all it takes. The orgasm slams into you, your entire body locking up, your mouth falling open in a broken moan as your climax rips through you. Your thighs shake, your stomach tightens, and your pussy clamps down around him so tight it pulls a ragged cry from his throat.

“Shit—baby I can’t hold it anymore… please—can I cum inside you?” he pants, his eyebrows furrowing as his concentration falters. 

You cry out through your orgasm, your soft pussy spasming and milking him dry, “Fuck—yes, Kookie—need your cum in me so bad!”

“Fuck—fuck, I’m—” he chokes out, hips snapping forward once, twice… then he follows. His release hits like a punch to the gut, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he spills himself with a loud, desperate groan. He stays buried in you, pressed as deep as he can go, his arms locked tight around your waist, holding you through it, as if he could anchor you to him forever.

You feel every hot wave of it, every twitch, every pulse. Your body spasms with the aftershocks, overwhelmed by the stretch, the fullness. You’re both breathing hard, your bodies trembling, clinging to one another while your chests heave against each other. 

Jungkook shudders against you, his head dropping to the nape of your neck, growling and panting into your skin. You instinctively let your hand come to the back of his head, pulling him closer, caressing the wet strands of hair. His grip tightens around your waist, before his hands travel further.

He still doesn’t pull out of you, he just lets his hands roam, until they find the back of your thighs. In a swift motion, like you weigh nothing, he picks you up and meets your eyes before leaning in to kiss you once more. 

It’s a soft kiss, the two of you humming and whimpering as you’re still connected and sore. And to be honest, your core is burning with pain, so overstimulated and stretched out that the feel of him picking you up, widening you even more, has you whimpering against his lips. 

“You did so good,” he breathes, one hand traveling up your spine, finding the back of your neck to pull you in, deepening the kiss, while his other hand stays underneath your thigh. You clamp your legs together, let your arms fling over his shoulders, trying to steady yourself around his waist, moaning softly at the feel of him being buried balls deep inside you. 

His hand under your thigh moves to the small of your back as he feels you clinging to him, pressing you further against him. You’re both so sweaty and warm, but the feeling of having him still buried inside you is so wonderful that you can’t think of anything else. You feel the mixture of your slick and his hot cum dripping from you, coating his abdomen and your ass in warm ropes. 

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he says between his kisses, the intensity of them turning into small kitten licks against your swollen lips. “Even if I lose my mind and tell you to… please don’t go. You’re the most beautiful, precious thing I know.”

Your hands come to cup the back of his neck, fingers running upwards and into his hair, tugging at it so the kiss deepens. You breathe out shakily against him, your eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Finding solace by the pick up counter, you anxiously tap your foot as the minutes tick by until you get dangerously close to being late for your lecture. 

When the sand colored drink finally appears in your periphery, you barely glance down before swiping it and taking a sip. Your face instantly contorts in disgust as the taste of coffee infiltrates your mouth. Surveying the drink with furrowed brows, you give the cup a once over, but before you’re able to deduce why your beloved tea is tainted with coffee, someone clears their throat.

“Uh, I think that might be mine,” an unfamiliar voice comments. 

Your eyes find the source of the sound when you look up. A conscientious looking man is standing before you with a grimace on his lips. He has eye-length obsidian hair and nearly matching doe eyes, only the faintest hint of brown swimming in them. His features are round and soft, save for the sharp jawline outlining his face. Counter to his innocuous demeanor, his eyebrow and lip are both pierced. 

You double check his assumption by holding the cup up so you can see the name written on the plastic. Low and behold, rather than seeing your name in black ink, it’s presumably his.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah,” he affirms.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” Guilt swarms your system over the mistake. “It’s the same color as my drink and I was in too much of a hurry to check.”

“It’s alright.” 

He shrugs as though a complete stranger didn’t just steal his morning beverage. 

“Here, let me buy you a new one,” you propose.

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” His eyes search the surrounding area before lighting up. He takes the drink from your outstretched hand and pulls the straw out so he can slip a clean one in. “Good as new.”

“Are you sure?” 

Embarrassment and regret still eat away at your stomach because you know how upset you would be in this situation, but Jungkook merely shakes his head with a casual shrug.

A second drink is placed on the counter and he grabs it to check the name. Once he decodes the scribbled handwriting, a soft smile breaks out across his face.

“Y/N?” You answer with a succinct nod. He hands the latte to you while bowing his head, followed by a barely audible chuckle. After returning the gesture, you accept the cup from him and take a sip. Your content hum is evidence enough that it is, in fact, your favorite beverage this time. “See? No sweat.”

You’re thankful for his gracious attitude on this already hectic morning and wave goodbye before traversing through the crowd to reach the door. 

The autumn breeze whips at your face upon exiting the cafe and you curl your jacket tighter around your torso in response. It might’ve been smart to order a hot drink instead, but if you’re going to survive exams, one of your holy grail items is a must. 

Your brief encounter is quickly forgotten when you check the time and realize you need to rush across campus. It doesn’t help that the watch incessantly ticking on your wrist reminds you just how little time you have. When the lecture hall comes into view, it’s just as the hour hand is finishing its lap. Wind blows into the building as you enter through the large door and hurry to find a seat before the professor notices. Your latte is slightly watered down from the ice melting on your way here, but it’s still flavorful enough to satiate you. 

Three classes and two practicums later, you finally find yourself unlocking your apartment door. The sun is long gone by the time you arrive home, so you flip the light switch up before removing your boots and coat.

Your dog Holly ecstatically greets you after rising from the couch. The adorable poodle wags his little tail while patiently waiting for you to pet him and you gladly appease him by scratching behind his floppy ears. 

“Hi baby,” you coo. 

The sound of his little paws follows you all the way into the kitchen so you can feed him. He begins scarfing the kibble down as soon as it hits his bowl and the familiar behavior warms you up inside. You then microwave some leftovers for yourself and eat the food over the sink. Your table is always a sole occupancy, so there’s no point in dirtying it if you don’t need to. 

The dishes call your name as you’re munching on dinner so you load the dishwasher once you’re done. It’s the same, mundane routine of your day-to-day life, including rewatching your favorite shows until the clock strikes ten. It’s a couple hours early for Cinderella, but your midterms aren’t going to study for themselves.

Your fellow students are probably partaking in “thirsty Thursday” by going out to the bars downtown, but you prefer the company of Holly to anyone else. Besides, you’re in the homestretch of acquiring your degree and don’t want to waste time on cheap beer and shitty music.

Coincidentally, the kitchen table becomes your bed for the evening after falling asleep with your head in a book a couple hours into studying. 

You’ve grown accustomed to vigorous graduate classes and assignments sucking up all your time and energy, but you don’t mind because you’ll finally be a psychologist when you finish. A longstanding dream you inherited along with Holly. 

When morning comes, you retrace your steps from yesterday straight to the coffee shop. You’re planning on spending the day in one of their cozy booths to study for your first exam on Monday. Setting up shop in a back corner with your laptop and books, you wait patiently for your drink to be delivered by a barista. You opt for a soul-soothing hot chocolate this time, heavy on the whipped cream. 

Studying goes about as well as one would expect, but you pull your nose out of the books after a few hours to order an iced chai latte as an afternoon pick-me-up. 

While waiting in line, you feel a delicate tap on your shoulder and look behind you to find a tattooed hand hovering just above your back. You follow the limb until your eyes reach his face and immediately recognize him from yesterday. 

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Hi, do you need something?” 

“No.”

Confusion crosses your face.

“Then why’d you tap my shoulder?”

“Oh, I just wanted to say hi,” he explains.

The concept of saying hi to perfect strangers is foreign to you. It didn’t used to be, but you tend to keep to yourself nowadays. 

“Well, uh, hi,” you respond. 

A beat passes and you assume the interaction is over until he pipes up again.

“How are your exams going?”

“They’re going fine,” you answer cordially.

“What about you? Oh, mine are going well, thanks for asking.” An incredulous expression appears when you hear his sarcastic impression of you. Not because it’s insulting, but because you certainly don’t know one another well enough for that type of rhetoric. When he realizes he offended you, his hands shoot up in surrender. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just trying to make you laugh.”

His obviously well meaning efforts are sweet, but you don’t want to waste time explaining why he’ll never be successful. 

“It’s alright,” you assure him.

Once you turn back around towards the baristas, the brief conversation ends and you don’t see him again. At least, you don’t see him again that day. Similar to discovering a new word and suddenly noticing it everywhere, this Jungkook guy magically begins popping up around every corner. Whether at the coffee shop, cafeteria, library, or between classes, his face quickly becomes a familiar sight. 

He’s never not smiling when you encounter him and he often waves at you if your eyes meet. His niceties go unreciprocated, your usual response being a curt bow before scurrying away. Which means you miss the way his cheerful face falls every time you ignore his kind gestures. 

You don’t rebuff him out of malice, you just aren’t used to the behavior and are unsure what to make of it. It’s a mystery to you why he’s so keen to get your attention in the first place. 

The one-sided exchanges persist for a couple weeks before you finally confront him to quell your curiosity. 

It’s quiet today at your favorite morning spot, but like clockwork, Jungkook is there at the same time as you. Once you see him settle into a booth with his coffee, you stroll over with your own in hand. His eyes light up before you even reach the table and it sounds off all the alarm bells in your head. You no longer enjoy having anyone’s attention on you and you feel guilty seeing his face of excitement when you’re unable to share the sentiment. 

“Hey, Y/N!”

You momentarily panic when he says your name before remembering he learned it by reading your coffee cup during your initial encounter. 

“Hi,” you anxiously greet him. “May I sit?” 

He nods and eagerly points to the seat across from him. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he states.

“Well, we see each other all the time, which is actually why I’m here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t understand why you always wave at me and stuff.”

Jungkook chuckles, but the sound is laced with confusion. 

“Uh, isn’t that what people do?”

“Sure, people who know each other,” you retort.

“I mean, I guess, but why not bring a smile to someone’s face whenever you can, you know?” 

Kindness seems to naturally ooze from Jungkook’s veins. Throughout every interaction he’s been nothing but considerate and gentle. It’s sweet, but you worry what his true intentions are.

“Is that really why you do it?” Your question seems to catch him off guard and he licks his lips while debating on the right answer. When he slowly shakes his head after a second, you probe him further. “Then why?”

His eyes shut and he takes a deep breath.

“I do it because you’re really cute and I want you to notice me,” he confesses. “In fact, I was working up the courage to talk to you that morning, but you forced my hand when you stole my coffee.”

His admission sends shivers of terror down your spine. Honestly, you’d be less fearful if he admitted he’s scoping you out to be his next murder victim. It’s been ages since anyone has shown you romantic interest or affection and you plan on keeping it that way. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking for a relationship,” you tell him. 

“Are you already in one?” 

You shake your head.

“I don’t do relationships.”

Jungkook frowns as his eyebrows pinch in confusion. 

“What does that mean?” It would take a lifetime to explain the convoluted inner workings of your mind, so you elect to keep it all buried. Jungkook makes a face of realization that you won’t be opening up to him anytime soon and switches gears. “Do you do friendships?”

You allow the idea to roll around in your head for a minute. There’s certainly not a lack of friendship in your life, although none of your close friends live near campus anymore since you’re the only one still pursuing academia. Nonetheless, his self-proclaimed interest in you muddies the water too much for you to consider it a good idea. 

“I do, but not with someone who wants to date me,” you respond. 

“That makes sense,” he regretfully admits. 

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t ever apologize for that. I’m sorry if I pushed any boundaries.” He sends you a customer service smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll leave you alone from now on, Y/N.”

Something about his statement uncomfortably tickles the muscle in your chest. It’s going to be weird not seeing his grin all over campus. 

“You don’t have to avoid me or anything like that. I was just curious, that's all.”

He nods in understanding and you take it as your cue to leave him be. With a small wave of your hand and a subsequent bow of his head, you bid each other goodbye. 

His fleeting presence in your life disappears for a while and you eventually forget about the period of time when you had a benign stalker. You’re sure Jungkook is a great friend, but you also know how men think and it’s better to err on the side of caution. It’s dangerous to spend time together when attraction is involved since most men assume it’ll make you fall for them. Which would never be the case for you and it isn’t your intention to lead anyone on. 

About three quarters into the fall semester, you unexpectedly see him again.

You voluntarily tutor undergraduate students at the library on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There’s a decent amount of fellow graduates who do the same, but no one interacts much since you’re usually busy with your pupils. All that changes when someone rests their backpack on the seat beside you. When you glance up to find the perpetrator, you notice the tattoo sleeve which used to follow you around. 

Jungkook warmly smiles before sitting down in the very seat his bag was a moment ago. He scoots the chair in and rests his elbows on the table, tucking his hands beneath his chin as he looks at you.

“Long time no see,” he greets you.

“Yeah, hi,” you reply. “You’re not… you’re not an undergrad, are you?”

“Oh, no.” He opens his bag to retrieve his laptop. “I’m here as a tutor.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you here before,” you state.

Jungkook nods while typing the password into his machine.

“Right, right. That’s because I’m doing this for extra credit.”

“Ah.”

His eyes flit to you again, his smile never diminishing. 

“Is this alright? I don’t want to bug you or make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him. His welcoming nature appears to be rubbing off on you because you find yourself wanting to continue the conversation. It’s been a very long time since you’ve become friends or even acquaintances with someone new, but something about Jungkook makes you want to try. “What’s your major?”

Jungkook’s eyes open wide from the pleasant surprise. 

“Me? Biology,” he answers. “What about you?”

“Psychology.”

“Well, look at that. We’re practically school twins or siblings, at best.”

You’re aware his comment is supposed to make you laugh or at least break a smile, but it’s all for nought. Unfortunately, his attempts at warming you up will always end in failure.

“Seems so,” you respond. 

His lips twitch downward when you remain unfazed, but he recovers quickly and jumps into asking you about your classes.

You talk for a while until the students arrive and you have to focus on helping them. As it turns out, Jungkook’s a great tutor despite only doing it out of necessity. He’s patient and considerate of the younger students asking for his assistance and they seem to enjoy his company. Witnessing his interactions all night makes you wonder if you made the right choice turning down his offer of friendship some weeks ago. You could use a little positivity in your life and although he mentioned finding you cute, he’s never pushed a boundary or crossed any lines. 

It becomes somewhat of a routine to sit together while tutoring and once the leaves begin falling from the trees and the sun starts setting earlier, he offers to walk you home afterwards.

His offer is rejected thrice before you finally give in because it’s pitch black outside by the time you’re leaving the library. He doesn’t make a big deal out of your concession, which you appreciate more than he knows. Opening up to someone new is difficult for you and you’ll never be able to thank him enough for being so understanding. 

He holds the large, glass door open for you and you thank him while crossing the threshold into the cold, winter night. Following close behind, Jungkook shivers from the harsh air nipping at his skin before catching up with you so he can stroll by your side towards the off-campus apartment building you call home. Besides the sound of crunching leaves beneath your feet, it’s comfortingly quiet until he breaks the silence by clearing his throat. 

“So, can I, uh, ask you something?”

The semester is coming to a close soon, meaning your initial meeting was almost four months ago and you’ve spent the last six weeks consistently spending time together twice a week. You suppose after this long of being acquaintances, you owe him that much. 

“Sure,” you agree.

Jungkook licks his lips and nods assuredly to hype himself up.

“Why don’t you do relationships?” He halts almost the very second the words leave his mouth. “I’m not asking because I’m trying to get with you. I’m just curious, I swear.”

“It’s okay, Jungkook.” A smile appears when you say his name. “I used to, but I prefer being alone nowadays.” 

“Do you ever see that changing?”

“No,” you reply automatically.

“Did someone… hurt you or — I’m sorry, that’s so invasive.”

He shakes his head back and forth like he’s scolding himself for trying to dig too deep. 

“No, quite the opposite, actually,” you answer anyway.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in evident surprise at your nugget of truth. It’s the first bit of information you’ve shared with him regarding something other than school, interests, or hobbies. The gears in his brain appear to be turning before he speaks again.  

“Can I make you a proposition?” You gesture with your hand for him to continue. “What if I could change your mind? Not about the romantic aspect, but about being alone. I truly don’t believe anyone prefers being alone and if you’re willing to let me try, I think I can prove it to you.”

You catch your lip between your teeth as his words permeate your mind. 

“Are you sure this isn’t your roundabout way of trying to convince me I should date you?” 

“No, absolutely not,” he firmly replies.

The familiar brick building is approaching fast and you're thankful your walk is coming to an end because you need time alone with your thoughts before giving him an answer. It sounds enticing and you could definitely use a heavy push into the land of the living, but you’re terrified of letting anyone into your life. 

Upon reaching the door to your apartment complex, you turn towards him to respond. 

“Can I think about it?” Jungkook rapidly nods and the goofy action almost makes you grin. “Okay. Well, thank you for walking me home.”

“Anytime.” 

He bows like a prince, twirling his hand in the air until it reaches his navel before bending over ninety degrees. It still isn’t enough to pull a smile from you, but he’s definitely getting warmer. 

Once inside, Holly enthusiastically greets you and you give him his well earned belly rubs before settling in for the night. 

Jungkook’s question lingers in your thoughts even once your head hits the pillow. It’s been a long time since someone’s shown genuine interest in you so it’s hard not being suspicious of his motives. Nevertheless, a friend is something you could really use right now and by sunrise the following morning, your mind is made up and you agree to his proposal the next time you see him in the library. 

Your now official friendship begins with a train ride. The holidays are fast approaching, as are exams, and Jungkook suggests heading to a town not far from the university with outdoor food and shopping stalls. It’s been forever since you last took a day trip anywhere, so you let him buy you both a train ticket and off you go. 

As you step foot on the locomotive, the first thing you notice is how many other passengers there are. The sight of the crowded train car makes your eyes go wide and your nerves light up, but Jungkook is quick to assimilate and offers you his hand with a gentle smile. After a moment of intense deliberation, you place your palm over his so he can lead you both to a pair of seats near the back. Neither of you speak at first, more resigned to gazing out the window as the lightly snow-covered trees fly by. Your ever yapping neighbor is, of course, the one to break the silence.

“Do you normally celebrate Christmas?” He asks. 

“Once upon a time.” He’s looking at you expectantly to elaborate, so you oblige him. “I was raised Christian, but I haven’t been feeling so cheerful these last few years.”

Jungkook nods in understanding. 

“What were you like before?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, obviously something happened, right?” Although the question causes your anxiety to skyrocket, you subtly nod. “So I’m wondering what your personality was like before whatever happened, happened.”

The question completely catches you off guard, but you suppose it’s fair enough to ask. He is the first person to take interest in you since everything changed. Since you changed.

“I was really sarcastic,” you start. “Like you couldn’t have a serious conversation with me unless you clarified first. And I laughed like a hyena most of the time.” A kaleidoscope of memories swirls in your mind, but they’re all devoid of color. “I was adventurous, passionate, and fairly melodramatic.”

Jungkook is staring at you as though you’re the most priceless work of art in an award-winning museum. He’s smiling softly as you describe the ghost of the girl you once were and his demeanour spikes your curiosity as to what’s running through his head. 

“I would really love to meet her one day,” he states. 

Your eyes involuntarily turn glassy.

“Me, too,” you whisper. 

“Not that I don’t enjoy who you are today,” he clarifies. “I think you’re great, Y/N.”

His response is confusing because in your mind, you’ve been closed off and dull since the moment you met him. You’re genuinely unsure what he enjoys about your company, but you don’t question him about it because you’re slightly scared of his answer. Instead, you listen to him ramble about the different types of biodiversity passing by the train.

Upon your arrival to the quaint town, you and Jungkook immediately head out on a mission to find lunch. His stomach’s been rumbling since halfway through the train ride and you’re not much better off. 

Stall after stall lines the street and fills the air with the most delicious smells, giving you a multitude of flavors to choose from. You decide on a tteokbokki stand and Jungkook graciously offers to pay while you collect the food on the opposite end of the booth. The pair of you find a spot near an electric heater underneath the large tent to eat. 

Jungkook dives right in while you’re still holding a piece between your chopsticks and blowing to cool it down. He looks absurdly uncomfortable as he attempts to swallow the scorching food, his mouth moving in odd shapes to avoid burning his tongue. You don’t realize his actions bring a small smile to your face until you see his own expression. He successfully digested the rice cake, but his mouth is still slightly agape as he stares with wide, starry eyes.

“What?” You ask after taking a bite. 

“That… that was the first time I’ve seen you smile,” he notes.

Have you really not smiled in four months? It’s not necessarily all that surprising, but you’re shocked he noticed when you yourself didn’t. 

“Oh.”

He panics a bit over seeing your face fall. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” he blurts out. “It’s a really, really good thing.” His eyes soften when he smiles at you. “You have a lovely smile, Y/N.”

Hopefully the cold air already turning you pink covers up the blush now tainting your cheeks because of his compliment.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

You wish you were courageous enough to compliment him in return; to explain in detail how truly thankful you are for his endless kindness, but the meal continues in your normal, comfortable quiet. 

It’s strange how quickly Jungkook snuck up on you to become a staple in your life. Originally, he was merely a stranger you crossed paths with around campus, but now you’re on an adventure together. Seeing him twice a week is suddenly mundane and you know you’ll miss the routine when it ends. Despite your initial hesitation, he’s proven his intentions are nothing but genuine. His only goal seems to be returning the light to your eyes and for the first time, you wonder if he’s accomplishing it.

After devouring lunch you and Jungkook venture towards the shopping stalls to buy gifts for your loved ones. Your list only consists of your parents and a couple friends, whereas his is rather lengthy, but you’ll search for something for Holly, too.

Thankfully, the long street is devoid of enough people that you can walk side-by-side while perusing the trinkets. You make mindless conversation between booths and every so often you’ll pause when one of you notices something, but no purchases have been made yet.

“Are you into jewelry?" Jungkook asks while bending over to admire a gold necklace.

“Not necessarily,” you respond. 

“Oh, I just noticed you always wear that diamond ring on your right hand,” he comments.

Your eyes automatically tilt down to survey your hand. The item in question sits on your right ring finger, a solid gold band with a single round diamond. The gemstone is just under a carat, but its petite size is vastly disproportionate to how important it is to you. 

“Right. It was a gift, but other than earrings or the occasional necklace, I don’t wear much,” you explain.

He hums in response before moving on to the next booth. 

When you stumble onto a shop featuring dog toys and treats, you eagerly enter their tent to look around. Jungkook seems surprised, but follows behind you throughout your search.

“Do you have a dog?”

“Mmhm.” You grab an adorable Santa collar and examine it. “His name’s Holly.”

“His?”

“I didn’t name him,” you reply, fairly used to people questioning the choice.

“Oh, is he your family dog or something?” Jungkook asks.  

He’s fiddling with a chew toy, but promptly returns it after squeezing too hard and causing a loud squeak.

His question unintentionally stops you in your tracks. Not only because you’re unsure how to tactfully avoid telling him the truth, but because of whose face flashes across your mind. 

“No.”

You don’t elaborate further, but he seemingly takes the hint since he doesn’t ask any follow up questions.

About an hour and $100 later, you both have a couple gifts to bring home. You’re pursuing a rumor about dessert trucks being parked in the town square when he hands you one of his many bags. Your eyes widen and you shoot him a questioning glance, so he explains.

“It’s for you.”

“What? But I didn’t get you anything.”

“I didn’t do it for something in return,” he tells you. “I’m supposed to be proving to you that being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, remember?”

Although reluctantly, you take the bag from him and pause your footsteps to open the gift. Once the tissue paper is out of the way, you see what looks to be a tall cup. Gently pulling the item out, you find your assumption was correct and Jungkook bought you a white, shimmery tumbler. 

“Figured you could help the environment by getting your iced chai in this from now on.”

Your mind spirals with emotions previously dormant for years and the only way you can think to express them is by yanking him by his shoulder for a hug. His body goes stiff, clearly not expecting the display of affection, but a mere moment passes before he gladly welcomes it. He tentatively places his hands on your back to reciprocate the embrace and you nod against his shoulder to encourage him. With your assurance, he tightly wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, afraid that speaking too loud will reveal something you don’t want him to see.

“You’re welcome,” he replies at the same volume. 

When you separate after a poignant moment, Jungkook is smiling like a lottery winner and although it’s not nearly as bright, you mirror his expression. 

The dessert rumor turns out to be true and after snagging some sweet treats, you board the train heading back home. It’s too dark to admire the forestry outside, so you find yourself twirling the cup in your hands and observing the white sparkles catching the light. 

“Why white?” 

Jungkook turns his attention away from his phone back to you at the sound of your voice. When he registers your question, his ears go red.

“Oh.” He ruffles the hair just above his nape. “Don’t get mad, okay? You… well, whenever I see you, I always think you… I think you look like an angel.” The truth paints his face to match the tips of his ears. “So, when I saw the white, I thought of you.”

“An angel?” 

The comparison turns your eyes into massive saucers.

“Mmhm. Sometimes I find myself almost calling you it by accident. I’m not sure why, I’ve just always felt that way.”

It feels like another lifetime the last time someone had a nickname for you, which could be the reason you respond as you do.

“You can call me that if you’d like,” you tell him. 

His eyes match yours in size as he surveys your face for any doubt.

“Are you sure?”

When you nod your head in reassurance, he sighs in relief.

“Thank god, I was so worried it would slip out one day and you’d hate me,” he confesses.

“I could never hate you, Jungkook.”

“Me either, angel.”

An unintentional hum leaves you at the initial usage of the name and surprisingly, you don’t mind the sound of it rolling off his tongue. 

Jungkook walks you home from the train station and you make idle chit-chat along the way. It feels odd parting after spending more than half the day together, but once you reach your door, you wave him goodbye from your stoop while he walks backwards away from you. 

“Goodnight, angel!” He calls out to you.

“Night.”

You worry about him hearing your quiet reply, but the massive grin on his face tells you differently.

The next time you see him is the following Tuesday for tutoring, after which he asks if you want to grab ramyeon near campus. One meal turns into two until it’s eventually an unspoken agreement that you’ll hang out a couple times a week. Other than eating dinner together you go to the movies, visit museums, and even see the holiday zoo lights one Saturday evening.

Spending time with Jungkook is effortless and much to both your surprise, every new outing brings a wider smile to your face. He’s yet to hear you laugh, but after months of dutiful effort, he finally succeeds when you go roller skating. 

You’re busy lacing up your skates while Jungkook is already proudly standing on four wheels. He looks supremely confident in his balancing abilities, even going so far as to place his hands on his hips like Superman to show off.

Just as you’re putting on your second skate, you catch movement in your periphery. 

A flash of color swipes across your vision before you hear a loud thud. Your hand instinctually covers your mouth in shock as you take in the sight of Jungkook on the floor, his legs straight out with a frustrated expression on his face. A cackle escapes before you can stop the sound and soon enough you’re laughing into your palm. 

Jungkook’s irritated features disappear in an instant upon realizing what he’s hearing and his eyes light up while turning into huge pools of chocolate. 

“Ah!” He shouts with his arms straight up in the air. “I did it!” 

The laughter still rumbling through your chest prevents you from fully appreciating his reaction. 

“Wow, it’s been a long time since anything’s made me laugh that hard,” you sigh. 

He stands up with a groan and sits across from you in the booth. 

“Angel, I will literally eat shit every time we’re together if that’s what it takes to make you laugh,” he unironically declares.

Although you appreciate the thought, you beg him to find other avenues of achieving the same goal. 

Once Jungkook’s bruised ego and butt are both feeling better, you roll into the rink together. It’s been close to a decade since you last skated, but you’re still pretty graceful, if you do say so yourself. You leisurely skate around the large oval talking about everything and nothing, but mostly discuss your exams starting on Monday. 

“What are your plans for winter break?” Jungkook asks. 

“Nothing much, just hanging out with Holly. I’ll go see my family on Christmas day most likely.”

“Do they live far?”

“Busan,” you answer. 

Jungkook nearly bites it again when he stops short. 

“You’re from Busan?” You nod. “Angel, I’m from Busan.”

“You are?” 

“Holy shit, this is awesome. Wait, do you wanna drive home together?”

It’s your turn to stop abruptly, although you grab the wall to slow yourself down. As much as you appreciate his offer, you can’t accept it.

“I would, Jungkook, but I have to stop somewhere on the way and wouldn’t want to impose,” you explain.

“Where to?”

You start skating again to distract yourself from who comes to mind because of his question.

“Daegu.”

“Oh, you go there like once a month, right? Is it to visit family?” 

No matter how close you and Jungkook have become, you still aren’t ready to crack open that particular can of worms. 

“About as close as one could get,” you reply.

“Well, I’m going to miss you, angel,” he tells you. 

Despite how scary it is, you want to admit you feel the same. You wish you could tell him his presence in your life is expected at this point and you worry what a couple weeks apart will feel like. Alas, your voice isn’t strong enough for that hefty of a confession. 

“I’m sure the time will fly by,” you say instead.

You roller skate through a few more eighties hits before returning to regular footwear and grabbing some food on the opposite end of the building. 

That’s the last time you hangout before exams season prevents you from seeing one another, but you invite him over once the rigorous tests are behind you. 

Jungkook always chooses the activities you do together, so you figure it’s high time for a home cooked meal at your place. It’s the least you can do when you’ve known each other for five months and he’s spent all of them being the most amazing friend imaginable, even throughout the period of time when you rebuffed him. 

He shows up precisely on time with a bottle of wine in hand. Dinner is nearly ready so you turn the oven off and scurry over to the door with Holly hot on your tail. As soon as the door opens, your little poodle goes absolutely bananas and jumps up on his hind legs. It’s been years since he’s seen anyone but you, so you suppose his excited reaction is warranted. 

“Hi, buddy!” Jungkook coos while bending to his level. 

Holly doesn’t stop ecstatically jumping even when Jungkook gives him his full, undivided attention. The pooch even has the audacity to roll over onto his back for belly rubs. Jungkook happily appeases him and while he’s busy scratching his furry tummy, he looks up at you.

“Hey, angel.”

“Hi,” you greet him with a warm smile as you admire him and your beloved dog.

When Jungkook rubs underneath Holly’s chin, he notices his collar.

“Min? That’s not your last name,” he notes.

“No, it’s his dad’s.” You reply purely on instinct, but immediately clench your teeth in regret. Jungkook glances up with a furrowed brow and you completely avoid his questioning eyes by hiding in the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready if you’re…”

Your sentence trails off when Jungkook delicately grabs your wrist to stop you from transporting the food to the table.

“Angel,” he quietly says. Tears are swimming in your eyes and threatening to fall any second, so you keep your head down. “Angel, look at me.” 

“Jungkook —”

“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?” The only response you can muster is a weak nod. “I’m here, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whisper. “It isn’t that I don’t want to tell you, I just… can’t.”

“Well, whenever you’re ready, you just let me know, alright? I’ll listen even if it’s three in the morning.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook knows you well enough now to understand when to drop a topic, so he steals the plates off the counter and brings them to the table himself. You spend a solitary moment settling your heartbeat before wiping the couple of stray tears away and following him. 

Dinner is thankfully innocuous as your usual, mellow conversations flow freely between you. Afterwards, you give Jungkook a brief tour ending in your living room so you can sit side-by-side on the couch with a Christmas movie on in the background.

Halfway through the film Jungkook seizes the opportunity of a quiet moment to shift the night back into dangerous territory. 

“Can I ask you something, angel?”

There’s normally a weighted question following a statement like that, but the small glass of wine you drank during dinner keeps your anxiety in check.

“Of course,” you respond.

Jungkook adjusts so he’s facing you and reaches for your hand. You recoil at first, but he simply leaves his palm up, allowing you to take the lead. Everything about him is so welcoming that it feels completely natural when you place your hand face down atop his own. Once you do, he grins and squeezes your digits in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“Has it been working? Am I any closer to reaching my goal?”

He’s referring to the proposition he gave you about a month ago and although you haven’t thought much of it since that night, there’s no doubt he’s proven you wrong about being alone.

“You are, Jungkook. I still enjoy time spent with just me, myself, and I, but I definitely don’t mind cutting into it to hang out with you,” you answer.

His smile is utterly breathtaking when he hears your response.

“That’s so wonderful, angel.” There’s a momentary pause before Jungkook squeezes your hand again. “There’s something else I want to ask. It’s more of a request, actually.”

“What is it?”

“I promise, when I first asked you about spending time together, I truly meant it when I said I wasn’t trying to convince you to date me. But I also couldn’t help… falling for you. And you can correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you might feel the same, even if just a little bit. So, if you’ll let me, I’d like to wait for you.”

“Wait for me?”

Jungkook repeatedly nods, nervousness evident in his every movement and expression.

“I know there are things in your past you aren’t ready to talk about. Things that are holding you back, but I’m willing to wait for you to overcome them if it means we can be together.” You want to both metaphorically and physically run and hide. Your anxiety is spiking despite the alcohol lowering your inhibitions because you’re downright terrified of the words leaving Jungkook’s mouth. He notices your negative reaction and grips your hand tighter. “Please, angel.”

“Jungkook,” you plead as your voice breaks, although you aren’t sure what exactly you’re asking for.

“I know it’s scary, and I swear I’m not saying this to pressure you. I just care about you so much and I’m certain we could have something beautiful one day,” he states.

Your head is spinning, making it difficult to even think clearly enough to push a reply past your lips.

“I’m broken, Jungkook. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do.” His voice sounds firm for the first time since you met. “I know you, Y/N, and I still want you. I want you more than anything.” He steals your other hand. “I’m not going anywhere, angel.”

“It isn’t always up to you,” you croak. 

There are silent tears wetting your cheeks, but Jungkook releases one of your hands to brush them away.

“All I want is to stay by your side, and if one day my feelings are reciprocated, then great. But if not, I’ll still want to be beside you.”

You’re clutching his hands like a lifeline as various, tumultuous emotions overwhelm your senses. The idea of finding love again is a completely foreign notion to you. Something you didn’t expect in a million years, but now it’s knocking on your door and you don’t know if you’re ready to answer it. You do care about Jungkook. There isn’t a doubt about that anywhere in your body, but terror and dread still haunt every corner of your mind. 

“I… I want that, too,” you confess, both to him and yourself. “But I can’t promise you anything, Jungkook. I don’t know if or when I’ll be ready.”

He smiles encouragingly and lifts your hands up to his lips. After giving them a tender, prolonged kiss, he rests your intertwined fingers against his heart.

“That’s more than alright with me,” he assures you. 

Jungkook grants you reprieve by leaving the subject alone and moving on to discuss the movie still playing on your tv. 

That emotional conversation is one of your last before winter break forces you to say goodbye until the new year. When the first Tuesday rolls around and you don’t see him like usual, it pushes against something in your chest you’re too scared to identify. Time seems to move like molasses and you find yourself counting down the days until spring semester. 

Missing him as much as you do is frightening because you never meant for him to become such a huge part of your life. But no matter how much fear you feel, you’ll never regret befriending him. He makes you smile and laugh when you truly thought you never would again. He’s brought color back into your world, even if it’s still pastel. You hope the courage to vocalize your inner thoughts to him is somewhere within you, but until you locate it, they’ll remain under lock and key. 

You reunite two days into the new semester after returning to campus following the holidays. It’s an accidental encounter brought on by you crossing paths while heading to separate lecture halls. Jungkook notices you first and your attention is pulled away from your phone by a call of your nickname.

“Angel!” By the time you locate the source, Jungkook is already jogging to you. His smile is infectious and you subconsciously return the expression as he sweeps you into his arms. “Oh, I missed you so much.”

He’s so warm you wonder if he’s exclusively powered by pure sunshine. His familiar embrace is nothing but comforting and you curl your arms around his neck to reciprocate the affection. Once Jungkook realizes you’re alright with the contact, he tugs you closer until your heels lift from the ground

“It was weird not seeing you,” you reply and hope he understands it’s your subtle way of admitting you missed him, too.

It seems like he does because he hums in agreement before resting his chin on your shoulder. When you eventually part, he automatically gives you space, but still matches your gait while walking with you to class.

“What are you doing this Saturday?” Your brain freezes and so do your feet, causing Jungkook to accidentally ram into your shoulder when you halt without warning. “Y/N?”

“I can’t,” you state harsher than you prefer. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t pry into your adverse reaction and tentatively follows your lead when you start moving. Neither of you speak again and upon reaching your destination, you bid him a curt goodbye and rush inside. 

Your less than friendly encounter leaves you feeling guilty, but this is unequivocally the worst time of year for you. All you can do is hope he understands the shift in your behavior without asking too many questions.

Saturday comes without you seeing Jungkook again, although you text back and forth a bit as you did over break. You aren’t avoiding him, it’s just that you took the second half of the week off and stayed locked in your apartment with Holly in preparation for today. 

As you have for the past two years, you pack a small lunch after feeding Holly and gather a couple essentials for the long drive. You’ll be traveling for just over an hour to the familiar beach, giving you plenty of time to mentally fortify yourself. The destination is one you once adored, and you suppose you still do, but it’s become just another crumbling pillar of your old life. A haunting reminder of the woman you used to be and the person who once walked beside you along the shoreline. 

It’s no surprise the beach is completely empty when you arrive, since it’s the middle of January and most people don’t enjoy cold or frozen water. 

You place a large blanket near the edge of the ocean since it can’t reach you in its icy state. Once you’re comfortably sitting, you start sipping on the hot chocolate you bought from a nearby cafe. Pulling your knees to your chest, you gaze out at the vast ocean ahead and allow your whirlwind of emotions to slowly settle. 

This day and place always brings you immense pain and sorrow, but bittersweet nostalgia and unwavering love are present, too, albeit more buried within your heart than the negative feelings. 

About an hour later, you hear a twig snap somewhere behind you and your body tenses, but your intuition tells you there’s no need to glance over your shoulder. The presence walking towards you is so vibrant it can be felt a mile away. 

Jungkook quietly sits beside you and mirrors you by pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. Neither of you speak for quite some time; accompanied by only the sound of the wind and your steady breathing. After pondering your limited amount of options for a while, you finally greet him.

“How’d you find me?”

He clears his throat and uses his foot to mindlessly play with the sand.

“Saw an article in the university newspaper about today being the third anniversary of an alumni’s death.” His breathing shakes when he inhales deeply. “It mentioned him being survived by his parents… and his girlfriend.” It’s been so long since someone’s referred to you as such, but you nod in understanding. “Angel, I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, there is. Y/N, I can’t even imagine what you went through; what you’re going through.”

“No, you can’t.”

Jungkook sighs and readjusts so he’s facing you. 

“Is it alright if I stay here with you? We don’t have to talk, I just want to support you in any way I can, angel.”

Jungkook’s very existence brings you peace and tranquility you never imagined would exist in your world again, so you allow that serenity to speak for you and ask him a question you’ve previously been terrified to say aloud. 

“Can I tell you about him?”

Oh no, I’m falling in love again.

Eight years ago…

You absolutely adore libraries; any library, really, but especially the gorgeous one which resides at the center of your university. The large, circular building is packed with thousands of books spanning from Fantasy to History Bibliographies and everything in between. Ever since your undergraduate career began you’ve been coming here religiously to study or discover a new read. 

The only gripe you have is how tall the bookshelves are. It certainly looks beautiful with the seemingly endless, grand shelves reaching towards the sky, but it’s impractical for vertically challenged individuals such as yourself. 

Which is why you’re currently on your tip-toes stretching as far as your arm allows to reach a memoir on the top shelf. Quiet grunts are leaving you from the effort of snagging just the bottom corner of the book. You promise to give up after one last push and even jump for your feeble final attempt. 

A mere moment before your motivation wanes, someone’s hand enters your vision and steals the book from its home. You huff in defeat and fall back onto your heels. Turning towards the mysterious limb, you see a man beside you holding the item in question.

The best descriptor for him would be kind looking. His black hair is long and he has cat-like, dark brown eyes which are accompanied by plush lips and a button nose. His handsome features are striking and you can’t resist taking time to admire him before indulging in conversation.

“In Order to Live by Yeonmi Park?” 

His voice is beautifully deep, but smooth and warm. 

“Mmhm,” you reply. 

“What’s it about?”

An involuntary smile breaks out across your face because it’s hard not feeling giddy when a gorgeous stranger takes interest in you.

“What’s it to you? You think just because you got to it first that you can nab it from me?”

He chuckles and places the book in the crook of your arm.

“I was just trying to flirt with you, but please, it’s all yours.”

You latch onto his arm before he can fully turn around.

“Wait! I was trying to flirt, too. I’m just bad at it,” you explain. 

There’s a sexy, satisfied smirk on his lips when he faces you again before he crosses his arms and leans against the bookshelf. 

“Actually, you’re pretty good at it. But so am I, and I like a little game of cat and mouse,” he states.

“Whose who?” 

He licks his lips hungrily while his eyes survey your features.

“I’m Yoongi,” he tells you.

“Y/N.”

“Undergrad?” You nod. “I’m a master’s student, a TA, actually. What’s your major?”

“Communications.” He raises a single eyebrow and you roll your eyes. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet, alright?”

He chuckles again and gestures with his head towards the book.

“Is that why you’re reading a memoir written by a North Korean woman? You gonna communicate your way to unification or something?”

The comment makes you laugh, but his evident knowledge about the premise of the book intrigues you. 

“No, but I could if I wanted to,” you retort.

“No doubt about it. That pretty face of yours will get you far enough as is.”

His confident demeanor encourages you to match his energy and you step forward while mirroring his stance until you’re only inches apart.

“And how far will it get me with you?”

He smiles with his teeth, and although he’s been alluring up to this point, he looks nothing but endearing when he beams at you. 

“About as far as the steakhouse on Main Street. Dinner? Maybe tonight?”

You nearly drop the cool-girl act in favor of jumping up and down in pure excitement. He’s stupidly good looking, can obviously keep up with you, and older, too. Romance isn’t necessarily on the books for this semester, but you’re not going to say no when it’s right in front of you looking good enough to eat. 

“I’d love to,” you answer.

An exchanging of numbers occurs and you agree on a time before parting ways, but the interaction lingers in your mind all afternoon. You can’t even focus on reading your new book because all you can think about is his saccharine smile and melodious voice. 

You get ready hours before you truly need to because you can’t contain your excitement enough to wait. It feels like when you would sleep with your clothes on the bed the night before a field trip as a kid. 

After a long shower where you shave away nearly every hair on your body besides your head, you lather yourself in lotion and perfume. You’re not one to sleep with someone on the first date, and you aren’t planning to tonight, but you enjoy the confidence it imbues you with.

A hype playlist plays from your phone speaker as you meticulously do your hair and makeup. It’s been a minute since you’ve dressed up and you’re proud of the final result when you glance in the mirror. Although, it takes approximately an hour to decide on an outfit. The steakhouse is definitely nice, but not over-the-top fancy. Eventually settling on a short dress that perfectly accentuates your ass, you give yourself a final once over before proudly nodding to your reflection. 

Yoongi rings your doorbell five minutes early and his punctuality almost makes you moan out loud. A man who doesn’t keep you waiting is simply to die for. 

When you first open the door, his face is obstructed by a bouquet of easter lilies and you gasp in awe, but your breath leaves your lungs entirely once he lowers the arrangement and you see his handsome face. He cleans up so well, with his shiny black hair perfectly styled to match his dapper attire and a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“For you,” he says while passing you the bouquet.

“You really know how to butter a girl up, don’t you?”

He smiles and the dusting of pink on his face darkens. 

“Well, I can’t have you be the only beautiful thing in your home, now can I?”

The flirtatious comment causes you to blush as well, but you ignore the heat and wave him inside so you can water the flowers. His eyes curiously observe your apartment while you’re busy arranging the lilies in a vase. Once you’re done, you proudly place them on your kitchen island. You join Yoongi in your living room and when he notices your presence, he shamelessly checks you out before catching your gaze. 

“Like what you see?”

His hand finds yours so he can pull you towards the exit. 

“Very, very much,” he responds. 

Although you’re merely exchanging pleasantries, the chemistry between you is palpable in the cramped space of the car and you take turns stealing glances throughout the short drive. 

Yoongi offers you his hand after opening the passenger door for you and you gladly take it so you can enter the restaurant together. The establishment isn’t terribly busy, but he called ahead anyway to ensure you didn’t have to wait. As the hostess steers you towards a table for two, he releases your hand to guide you by the small of your back instead. His stabilizing touch fires off neurons in your brain and creates goosebumps on your arms. After taking your seat, Yoongi pushes your chair in before finding his own across from you.

“Whaddaya think?” Yoongi asks as he hands you a menu. 

Surveying the restaurant, you nod in approval as your eyes flit around the room.

“I think it’s a great place for a first date,” you reply. Yoongi hums while sitting back in his chair. “Have you taken many other unsuspecting undergraduate girls here?”

He chuckles.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re so unsuspecting.”

A man who can keep up with your quick wit? You may be in love already.

“No. I’m pretty protective of my heart.”

“As am I,” he states.

“So you trust me?”

You both instinctively lean towards one another, the tension between you about to snap like a rubber band.

“I’d like to learn more about you so I can try.”

A smile graces your lips.

“Me, too,” you admit. “I didn’t ask you what your major is.”

“Psychology.” 

“What made you want to do that?”

Yoongi takes a sip of water before answering.

“I’ve just always wanted to help people, especially children. I volunteer at the hospital nearby on weekends teaching kids with autism how to play different instruments. I’d like to do something like that once I graduate,” he explains. 

Was this man sent straight from heaven or something?

“Wow, that’s wonderful. Do you enjoy it?”

“I love it so much,” he says with a brilliant smile.

“How many instruments do you play?” You ask.

“Piano, guitar, and some various hand-held ones like a tambourine. That doesn’t take much skill, but it’s still helpful for the kids.”

Placing your elbows on the table so you can fit your hands beneath your chin, you playfully bat your eyelashes at him.

“Can you teach me anything?”

Although the atmosphere is still flirtatious, his answer sounds completely sincere.

“Sure.”

The waiter interrupts your small talk to take your orders, but you continue discussing school, hobbies, and interests while waiting for your meals. The conversations flow like water as you effortlessly move from topic to topic. It feels as though you’ve known one another for years rather than hours. 

An hour after finishing your meals and a quarter ‘til the restaurant is set to close, you finally stand to leave, but neither of you are ready to say goodbye, so you propose heading to an ice cream shop down the street. Yoongi takes your hand again as you travel from the restaurant to the little storefront. It’s the first silent moment between you, but it’s just as comfortable as your dialogue.

“Favorite song?” You ask while gazing at his sharp profile. 

He tilts his head as he thinks about his answer. 

“I don’t know if I could ever choose just one.”

“Cop outttt,” you shout into the dark street. 

His responding laugh is bright and his eyes disappear behind his full cheeks.

“What about you, huh?”

“I don’t have one either,” you sheepishly admit.

He gawks and immediately goes to tickle you in retaliation, causing you to screech when his arms wrap around your middle so he can hold you still while wiggling his fingers against your sides. You laugh hysterically as his digits dance along your waist. He doesn’t let go even once the torment ends, just keeps holding you in his arms and eventually rests his head on your shoulder. 

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” He whispers before kissing the exposed skin beside the strap of your dress.

Tracing along his veins where his arms are securing you to his chest, you hum and glance over your shoulder at him.

“If I didn’t before…”

It’s too heavy a confession to utter out loud, so you let him infer the rest of your sentence. It’s clear he understands because his adorable, gummy smile returns when he spins you around in his embrace. Once you’re face to face, he walks you backwards until your spine meets the brick building behind you. 

His head slowly descends to meet yours and it seems like an eternity passes before you feel his mouth against your own. You share a content hum over the initial touch, gently moving your lips in tandem to explore each other’s mouths for the first time. Yoongi caresses your jaw while coaxing your mouth open and tracing your bottom lip with his tongue. It’s impossible to resist smiling into the magical kiss and even harder to part once you run out of oxygen. 

You reluctantly pull away, but he presses his forehead to yours to retain some form of physical contact. You’re both left smiling and giggling afterwards and Yoongi’s thumb continues to run along your cheekbone. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Me, too.”

After another brief make out, you continue on your journey of finding dessert.

Yoongi holds the door open for you and you graciously enter before perusing the menu. You silently stand beside each other as your eyes parse through many options, but Yoongi interrupts your deliberation.

“Alright, this is a deal breaker,” he announces. “Can we get different flavors so we can each try the other person’s?”

You side-eye him for a fleeting moment, sporting a faux judgemental look before a cheshire grin breaks out. 

“Of course.” He happily nods in success and you tell him which one you’re choosing so he can place your orders. Once he returns to wait with you, you nudge his shoulder. “Next one’s on me.”

“Next one?” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Who said you’re getting a second date?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff. “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger already.”

Yoongi blushes and tilts his eyes down in an attempt to hide the adorable reaction to your words. He doesn’t verbally respond, but you see him nod his head in agreement out of the corner of your eye. 

Upon receiving your sweet treats, you allow one another to taste test the opposing ice cream flavor before walking back to Yoongi’s car. After throwing away the empty cups and spoons, you slide into your respective seats, but he doesn’t start the car right away. You shoot him a questioning glance while waiting for him to start the ignition.

“Is this the part where you kill me or?”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“No. I’m having an internal battle with myself.” Your eyebrow quirks up in intrigue and you gesture for him to explain. “I really wanna kiss you again, but I’m also trying to be a gentleman.”

“You can’t be both?”

He shakes his head again.

“I won’t be able to stop once I start.”

His words make your thighs clench, but the feeling is mutual and don’t want to take anything farther than it should tonight. 

You place your hand on his wrist to grab his attention.

“How about you drop me off and we can share a chaste goodnight kiss? We can save the hot and heavy for another day,” you suggest. 

He surprises you by tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and tracing your jaw with his fingertips.

“I like the sound of that.”

The night ends exactly as you proposed and following a kiss goodbye that leaves you breathless, you bid each other farewell with deep, pink blush painting your cheeks. 

It’s easily the best first date you’ve ever been on and you’re itching to text him as soon as you settle into bed. He must share the sentiment, because he texts you about half an hour later stating he made it home safely.

Neither of you can resist staying away from one another after that night.

It only takes a couple more dates for Yoongi to ask you to be his girlfriend before having the most passionate, otherworldly sex of your life. You worry you’re addicted to him afterwards and you barely sleep because you just keep going round after round to experience the pleasure all over again.

Waking up in his arms the following morning feels like heaven on earth and you spend the early hours cuddling and smooching before going out on a date around town.

You’re falling fast and hard. Yoongi is everything you could want in a partner: attentive, funny, intelligent, kind, and compassionate. Not only can you have long, meaningful conversations, but you can fool around and make fun of each other as though you’re childhood friends. Best of all, he doesn’t shy away from expressing his emotions, especially the way he feels about you. Which is why he invites you over for the first time about three months into your relationship.

Upon your arrival, you’re not only met by your handsome boyfriend, but an adorable poodle you’ve yet to see in person. You gasp and bend down to his level after giving Yoongi a quick peck. 

“Hi, you!” You coo at his sweet dog.

The pooch jumps up and down in front of you before rolling onto his back with his paws up. The precious sight makes your heart sing and you appease him by rubbing his soft belly. 

“This is my darling Holly.”

“Oh, you’re just the sweetest aren’t you, Holly?” 

He barks in response and rises to his feet again before running away to grab a toy.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Yoongi formally greets you. 

“Hey there.”

As he shuts the door, he uses the position of his arm to cage you against the wood and kiss you. You moan while grabbing his face with both hands so you can keep him right where you want him. If not for the food still cooking in the kitchen, you’re certain the two of you would make love right here in the entryway to his apartment.

“I gotta get our dinner out of the oven,” he whispers with a final kiss to your cheek.

You sigh and pout, which causes him to smile in adoration and squish your cheeks in his big hand. His teasing makes you giggle through your pursed lips, which he kisses before taking your hand to lead you into the kitchen. 

Yoongi is an amazing cook among his many other talents and the meal he makes quickly becomes a fan favorite. His abundant skills never fail to surprise you and you honestly believe he might be a genius.

Afterwards, the two of you curl up on the couch with Holly to watch a movie. Except no one pays attention to the film since you’re busy petting behind his dog’s ears and Yoongi’s staring at you with intense affection.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your hand halts as your mind starts processing his confession. It’s the first time anyone’s told you as such despite having past relationships, but it doesn’t scare you. No, it excites you more than anything in the world ever has. 

When your eyes meet after taking a second to think, you see unbridled devotion swimming in his irises.

“I love you, too.”

His effervescent smile doesn’t last long before he’s pouncing on you to hold your face between his hands as he pours his emotions into a searing kiss. 

“I’ve been waiting so long to say that,” he tells you.

“Me, too,” you confess between kisses. “I love you so much, Yoongi.”

He shakes his head while still kissing you senseless.

“Not nearly as much as I love you, doll.” 

If your lips weren’t sufficiently preoccupied, you would argue against his claim. 

You end up spending the weekend at his place. He cooks for you, kisses the air right out of your lungs, and fucks you until you can’t walk straight the following Monday. All while repeating over and over again how much he loves you. Your relationship blossoms alongside the spring and you both do your part watering the budding love affair so it grows into something strong and beautiful. 

Which it does, evident by you still being together two years later. 

Yoongi’s been the most supportive partner in the world the last couple years while you worked tirelessly to acquire your degree. It’s now the morning of your college graduation and although you’re still unsure about the future, he’s patient with you while you decide on a career. He always assures you these decisions take time and not to rush down a certain path. 

You’re getting ready for your commencement ceremony at Yoongi’s after spending the night there. He took you out for a celebratory dinner and subsequent night out, so it made more sense to stay with him than go home afterwards. You sleep at his place nearly every night anyway. The two of you still can’t get enough of each other even after all this time.

“Yoon?” 

It takes a couple seconds for the sound of your voice to travel across the apartment and reach him in the bedroom. 

“Yeah, sweets?” 

“Have you seen my necklace?” 

A moment later your boyfriend emerges with a gold chain dangling between his fingers.

“This necklace?” You nod excitedly and turn around while lifting your hair so he can fasten it. Yoongi bought the pretty trinket as a first anniversary gift and you wear it every chance you get. Once it’s secure around your neck, he kisses your bare shoulder. “You look so beautiful.”

Twisting towards him, you circle your arms around his neck and give him a chaste smooch.

“You’re only saying that because you’re in love with me,” you retort.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you again.

“No, I’m in love with you because you’re so beautiful.” 

You scoff in faux disbelief. 

“So you’re only dating me for my looks?”

His face turns serious, but you know him well enough to see the mischief in his eyes. 

“Of course. What else do you have to offer me, huh?” 

You giggle while lightly smacking his arm in retaliation before grabbing the last few items you need in order to head to the football field for the ceremony. 

He readjusts your cap and gown on the stoop of his apartment and once he deems you perfect, he gives you a supportive thumbs up and you walk hand-in-hand down the steps. The stadium is just across campus so there’s no reason to drive and it’s a beautiful summer morning ideal for a stroll in the sunshine.

“Do you know how proud I am of you, sweetheart?” Yoongi ask. “You’ve worked so fucking hard.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you,” you tell him.

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” You momentarily stop to take both his hands. “Yoongi, you’ve supported me in every decision, downfall, success, and misstep since the moment we met. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

He hums and runs his hand across the bottom half of his face as if he’s pondering something. 

“I think I know a way you can make it up to me.” Your eyebrows rise inquisitively. “You could move in with me. Let me see that pretty face of yours more often.”

Your jaw drops open and you gasp in both shock and elation. Before you can even verbally respond, you start jumping up and down.

“Really?”

His huge smile is simply to die for.

“Really.”

“Ah!”

Throwing your arms around his neck, you continue bouncing on the balls of your feet while hugging him tight. He returns the embrace, holding you by the waist and pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. You continue walking shortly after so you aren’t late for your own graduation, but take the time to give him a passionate kiss before joining the other graduates.

Following the ceremony you meet him, your parents, and his parents near the entrance of the stadium for pictures and to head to dinner. Yoongi tells them the good news over appetizers and all four of them are ecstatic for you. His parents have become a second mom and dad for you as have yours for him. It makes the day feel all the more special as the six of you celebrate together.

After saying goodbye and watching the two pairs of parents drive off, you and Yoongi head back to the apartment together, your apartment. 

As soon as you cross the threshold, he’s grunting as he lifts you over his shoulder, making you squeal and kick your feet while he carries you towards the bedroom. Holly barks at your antics, but he’s unfortunately cut off from the action when Yoongi kicks the door shut behind him.

Once inside, he gives your ass a generous smack and then tosses you onto the bed as you giggle.

“We should spend the night celebrating, don't you think?”

You admire his long fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt before replying.

“Didn’t we do that last night?” 

He smirks and places one knee on the bed.

“You live here now, doll. We’ll be doing it every night.” 

If that isn’t sinful music to your ears. 

Yoongi kisses you while locating the zipper of your dress so he can quickly strip you down. As his hands pull the fabric away from your body, he groans in delight despite it being a sight he’s witnessed a hundred times over the last two years. He even rises to his knees so he can appreciate you in your entirety.

“How the fuck did I get so lucky?” He muses aloud.

As much as his statement makes you blush, you don’t acknowledge the sweet words because you’re busy ridding him of his belt.

He interrupts your efforts by hovering over you to kiss and suck on your neck. It momentarily delays you as you pant in ecstasy because of the way he’s ravishing your sensitive skin, but you eventually succeed in pulling his slacks down so you can palm him over his boxers. The friction on his cock makes him hum amorously and he bites into your jugular in response.

“Wanna suck your dick, Yoon,” you announce.

His deep chuckle makes the wet spot on your lace underwear even worse. 

“As long as I get to taste you afterwards.”

That particular quid pro quo is one you’ll never refuse, so you push him by his shoulder until he’s upright and secure your hair in a ponytail before pulling his boxers down. You don’t waste time with teasing because it’s been two years of giving your boyfriend blowjobs, so you have it down to a science at this point. 

Yoongi combs through your hair when you begin stroking him, his cat eyes turning sharp as he admires you working his cock from above. Once he’s fully erect and twitching in your hand, you kitten lick his tip and he groans while looking towards the ceiling and tightly gripping your strands between his fingers.

“Oh, sweets.”

The tip of your tongue circles his head without ever going lower, purposely torturing him a bit while your hand moves along his warm shaft. 

Yoongi’s cock is so pretty, just like the rest of him; long, veiny, and the ideal thickness to stretch your lips and pussy. His velvet skin and hot, pulsing veins feel amazing in your palm and even better when they’re deep in your cunt. It’s seems you’ve been granted a miracle in the form of someone with not only a stellar personality, but god-like skills in the bedroom.

“You gonna come down my throat, handsome?” You ask by gazing up at him and battling your eyelashes. 

He tsks at you.

“No, doll. I’m gonna fill up that tight pussy of yours.”

Ironically, that’s exactly what you were hoping he’d say because there’s nothing more satisfying than feeling his warm seed seeping into your pussy.

Fully wrapping your lips around his cock, you steadily take him inside your mouth inch by inch. He enthusiastically moans while you gradually sink down until his tip reaches the back of your throat. You parry the moan as you choke on his length before sticking your tongue out and moving back to coat him in saliva.

“That’s it,” he sighs.

Like the pro you are, you bob your head along his cock with expert precision, but at a slow pace so you can repeatedly kiss his pubic bone with your nose and gag around his tip as it bruises your esophagus. As you move his dick in and out of your mouth, you alternate between licking and sucking to provide him the most pleasure possible, which you’re clearly succeeding at given his noises of ecstasy.

“Fuck, sweets. Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

Yoongi is a quiet man, which is one of the many things you love about him, but he’s the most talkative in the bedroom. He usually praises you nonstop while you’re making love and it always causes your head to spin. His deep voice, the evident strain on his vocal chords, and his filthy words are the perfect recipe for a euphoric concoction. 

After a while of languidly gliding along his dick, you speed up and suction your lips around him for a tighter fit. He reacts with an instantaneous and exuberant moan that makes him tug on your ponytail. Sensing he wants more, you breathe through your nose to maintain the steady tempo while your hands grip his thighs for support. When you look up, you see a beautiful vision of his throat as he pants with his head thrown back. 

He unfortunately doesn’t let you continue for much longer after that, gently pulling on your hair so he can unsheath himself from your mouth. 

“Boo,” you pout. 

Yoongi shakes his head at you, but there’s a smug grin on his face. 

“My turn,” he states. 

He unceremoniously grabs you by your thighs and shoves you further up the bed, which you assist him with by maneuvering yourself to the center of the mattress. When he climbs between your legs and settles on his stomach, his face hovers mere inches above your covered cunt and the anticipation of feeling his tongue in your folds drives you wild. 

Your boyfriend is a goddamn prodigy when it comes to eating pussy. His tongue is something he must’ve inherited from the devil because it moves in downright sinful ways and sends you straight to Hong Kong. 

Rather than immediately diving in, he teases you by tapping an unknown melody along your calves and thighs with his fingertips, bringing an undeniably sexy smirk to his lips as he watches your chest rise and fall with eager, labored breaths.

“Gonna make you scream my name, doll,” he whispers before kissing your hip bone.

“You always do,” you argue.

Yoongi nods in agreement where his face is still resting on your skin. He kisses your abdomen and trails his lips down your thighs where he bites into the supple flesh before finally draping your legs over his shoulders. You have him right where you want him now and he finally pacifies you by leaning in to kiss your clit through your underwear. 

“Mm, you smell so good.”

Both his words and actions have you blushing bright pink as you watch him reach up to pull your panties aside before sinking his two middle fingers into your hole. There’s a squelch when his digits penetrate you and your head falls against the pillows in delight. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp.

He starts slow, only fucking his fingers into your pussy while alternating between staring at your tight hole stretching open and admiring your erotic expressions. The relaxed pace is tortuous, but it allows you to feel every knuckle and ridge as his digits repeatedly sink into your cunt.  

Your pussy is leaking essence all over his hand as he works you open and if he wasn’t the love of your life, it’d be slightly embarrassing how your body reacts to just his fingers. 

“I could do this all fucking night. Just fuck you slow and watch the way you take me.” He kisses your clit again and it causes you to jump. “My fingers, my tongue, and then my fat cock.”

“Yoongi,” you breathlessly moan.

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, handsome, I want you so bad.”

He hums in satisfaction and agreement before taking pity on you and flattening his tongue over your clit. You cry out from the intense pleasure and he has to hold you down with his free hand because your hips erratically twitch beneath him. 

His tongue is fucking lethal as he harshly licks your clit while picking up the pace of his fingers to synchronize the rhythms. The wet muscle soaks your nerve endings in drool and provides unbelievable friction to your most sensitive area. 

Your mind spins in a million directions even though this is just one of many times Yoongi’s eaten you out, but he never fails to make it feel like the first time. 

“Yoon, holy shit.”

He proudly laughs into your pussy and the vibration makes you scream. Tears prick at corner of your eyes, but you blink them away to focus on the gorgeous sight of him between your legs. 

“You always taste so fucking good, doll,” he praises. 

His words go unrecognized by you because you’re too busy wallowing in the throes of pleasure. 

When he removes his hand from your cunt and moves down to kiss your slit and push his tongue into your hole, your legs shake as your hand grips his hair like a lifeline. 

The newfound pressure on his scalp has him grunting as he fucks you with his tongue. He’s licking and swirling his tongue inside you to taste your inner walls and you swear, he always eats you out like a decadent five course meal. It may be a filthy act, but he makes you feel revered. 

“I’m close, handsome.”

He moans and dramatically slurps your juices into his mouth.

“Gonna swallow every last drop, sweetheart. Come for me,” he pleads.

Sometimes his words almost send you over the edge faster than his tongue. 

Within a single breath, you’re crying and convulsing as a powerful orgasm sends ripples of pleasure through you. Yoongi moans in triumph and forces your cunt closer so he can drink your cum with ease, making sure to lick you through the entire climax before pressing a final kiss to your mound. He kisses up your torso to meet you at your mouth and you whimper for more when he teases you by merely biting your bottom lip.

As your tongues finally tangle together, you taste your own desire on his lips, causing every sensation to feel that much more erotic.

Yoongi slips his fingers in the waistband of your underwear as you lazily make out so he can pull the garment down your legs. His hands continue onward to explore your waist and hips despite having your every curve memorized already. Although, you do the same as your fingertips traverse his biceps and shoulders before twisting into the hair at his nape and tugging on his black strands.

“Tell me what you want, sweets,” he whispers.

“I wanna ride you, Yoongi.” You trace his collarbones and press a kiss to his skin. “I love how deep you feel when I’m on top.”

He smiles while flipping you both over until you’re comfortably resting in his lap.

“Go on then, doll.” He sinks a hand into your hair and forces your face down to his, where he whispers his next command. “Show me how well you ride cock.”

His deep voice makes your head lull back and you begin shamelessly grinding on his dick in appreciation. His hand drops to your neck so he can gently choke you and the wave of ecstasy his tight grip causes makes you pick up the pace. He’s sporting a devilish smirk as he watches your hips move back and forth over his lap, but once he tires of not being inside you, he spanks you and squeezes your throat.

Sometimes your bratty nature seeps into the bedroom, but right now you want the same thing he does. So, you kneel and position his cock under your hole before sitting down on his thighs. He always effortlessly fills you up and the familiar stretch has your nails scratching at his chest.

“Oh fuck, Yoon.”

“Yeah? That feel good?” When you only respond by nodding, he spanks you hard. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“So good, Yoongi. You have no fucking idea,” you pant. 

His dick is a perfect fit and reaches your g-spot with every rock of your hips.

He continues to choke you while you set a steady cadence by bouncing up and down on his thighs. Yoongi knows precisely how to restrict your air supply without hurting you and the sensation of his hand around your throat with his cock deep in your cunt makes your mind go blank. 

Your boyfriend’s eyes turn into thin slits as he stares at your pussy sucking him in over and over. His gaze travels to your tits swinging in front of his face and before you know it his free hand is massaging one of your breasts by tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I can’t wait to put a baby in you one day and see these fill up with milk,” he comments.

It isn’t the first time Yoongi’s alluded to a breeding kink or you two having children. He adores kids and it’s something you mutually agreed on early in your relationship. You know you’re still too young, but there’s nothing in the world you want more than to give him a child or two. 

“Me, too, Yoon. God, I want that so bad,” you confess.

He smiles before leaning forward to delicately kiss your sternum. 

“One day, my sweetheart.” You hear a chuckle as he rests against the pillows. “For now, let’s just keep practicing.”

You momentarily share in the laughter until he tilts his hips up to send his cock deeper inside you and you choke.

His dick is sinking further and further every time your pelvis meets his thighs, a loud clap following each movement and filling the room with the sensual sound. It feels amazing as always, but the thought of you fucking in celebration of finally moving in together makes it all the more special. 

All it takes is some more diligent rolls of your hips for you to come together. Especially because his pubic bone is applying friction to your clit and his heavy balls slap your ass with each bounce. Yoongi shoots his cum into your cunt while groaning and squeezing your throat and you simultaneously cream his dick, turning it white as you continue fucking yourself on him through the high.

Once your nervous systems simmer down, you gasp and fall forward onto his chest. Yoongi responds by humming in content and wrapping his arms around you so he can soothingly caress your spine.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.

You smile and kiss his shoulder a couple times. 

“I love you, Yoongi. I always will.”

The night ends with you falling asleep in one another’s arms after cleaning up the remnants of your intimacy. Although you’re sore the next morning, you both head to your place after breakfast to pack your many possessions into boxes and transport them to the apartment. 

Despite requesting a music lesson on your first date, it isn’t until a couple months after moving in together that you finally sit at a piano bench for your first class with professor Min. 

Yoongi is mindlessly playing notes while you adjust the music book he handed you so you’re able to read it clearly. Luckily for both of you, you already possess the skill to read music due to classes in high school. 

“You ready, sweets?” When you nod your head, he smiles and tucks some loose hair behind your ear. “Alright, we’ll start with a scale.”

Your boyfriend is a fabulous teacher even though you fumble nearly every step of the way, which makes sense given his job is to help children learn the same thing. Honestly, the kids are probably better at this than you are. Being able to read music doesn’t assist you at all when you can’t place your fingers on the keys correctly or simultaneously move your hands at different speeds to play the right notes.

Alas, your gentle, kind, and patient man simply repeats the instructions as necessary and waits while you figure it out.

“Yoon,” you giggle. “I’m so hopeless.”

It’s been just over an hour since you played your first note.

“No, you’re not.” He stands up to move behind you so he can place his hands over yours. “You just need more practice, doll.” His fingers squeeze yours and you allow him to take control of your movements. He makes it seem effortless as he plays the simple melody a couple times so you understand how it should feel. “See?”

“My love, I understood none of that,” you sheepishly admit.

He laughs and rests his cheek on your head.

“Maybe tambourine is a good place to start?”

You shove him off you in response to his teasing, but you still share in the laughter.

On your fourth anniversary, Yoongi surprises you by finally taking you with him to the hospital where he works. You’ve been begging him ever since you started dating, but he didn’t want to impose by asking the staff if he could bring you along. But now he’s the head psychologist of the neurodivergent children’s ward and it’s entirely up to him who comes to visit. 

Some of the children don’t handle visitors well, so you promise to stay back while admiring him rather than engaging too much. Regardless, he assures you it won’t be an issue and that any children who may not do well won’t be in the room while you’re there. 

You’re elated to see him in his element today since you’ve been witness to his excitement and passion while talking about work for the last four years. Today is your day off from your journalism job, so the timing couldn’t be better for you to come to work with him. 

Whether or not journalism is your forever career is still yet to be determined, but it pays the bills and makes you happy. 

Yoongi leads you through the many winding halls of the large hospital until you arrive at the children’s wing. After dropping off your things in his office, he takes your hand so you can go greet the kids together. 

As soon as he opens the door to the classroom, you hear multiple voices of little boys and girls chattering in excitement. When he peaks his head inside nearly all of them stop what they're doing to greet him. 

“Mr. Min!” Some of them shout in unison while running over to him.

Yoongi has the most beautiful smile on his face as the children scurry across the carpet.

“Hi, guys,” he calmly greets them and bends down until he’s eye level with them. “Remember how I told you I was going to bring someone special to meet you?”

“Yeah!” A couple of them shout.

“Well, this is Ms. Y/N and she’ll be here with us today.”

“I thought you said we would be meeting Mrs. Min,” a young girl argues.

Raising your eyebrow at your boyfriend, you watch as he instantly blushes deep pink.

“No, Sana, I told you she’s the future Mrs. Min,” he corrects her. 

All the kids snicker at his statement while it makes you react the same way as him, your cheeks turning bright pink as your brain spirals from the idea of being Mrs. Min one day. 

“Hi, everyone,” you cheer.

Their big eyes eagerly turn towards you and before you know it they’re descending on you to ask questions or vehemently request you play with them. Yoongi affectionately smiles and gestures for you to go ahead when a couple girls begin pulling you towards a small table. You spend the day coloring, finger painting, and listening to them explain their favorite instruments. Yoongi observes the children for the first half of the day, but joins you when it’s time to read a fairytale out loud just after lunch. 

It’s truly one of the most special days of your life and you feel nothing but warmth in your soul as you drive home together that night.

After devouring a home cooked meal courtesy of your beloved boyfriend, you cuddle Holly on the couch while Yoongi finishes his reports for the evening at the kitchen table. You eventually get antsy and kiss Holly on his little head before rising to join your boyfriend. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you bend over to kiss his cheek and he hums while squeezing one of your forearms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

“You almost done?”

“I am done, actually,” he informs you. 

Yoongi tugs on your arm to bring you in front while scooting away from the table so you can sit on his lap. Once you’re snug up against him, you circle his neck and play with the black hair at his nape.

“Thank you for today, handsome. It meant the world to me,” you state.

He smiles and rubs along your outer thigh where your legs are draped over his lap.

“It meant the world to me, too. I loved seeing you with the children today.”

“Probably made you wanna put a baby in me, huh?” You tease.

Despite your light tone, Yoongi looks totally serious when he looks into your eyes.

“It absolutely did,” he replies. “I can’t wait to marry you and start a family, doll. That's all I want.”

You bury your face in his neck to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. 

“Me, too, Yoon.” His hand lovingly massages your back in large circles, but he stops when you lift your head with a mischievous gleam in your eye. “Do you wanna go to the beach tomorrow?”

It’s Friday and neither of you work on Saturdays, so it’s the perfect way to start your anniversary weekend.

“Our beach?”

“Of course! It’s been so long since we’ve gone,” you pout.

He agrees without hesitation, as if he’s ever been able to say no to you even once throughout your entire relationship.

When you first discover the beach in question, it’s actually by accident. You consider yourself fairly adventurous and one day during your first year together you beg Yoongi to go for a long drive. There’s no particular destination you have in mind; you simply want to choose a direction and travel until you find something worth seeing. Yoongi appeases your strange request after only mildly complaining while he’s putting his shoes on. 

You stumble upon the beautiful little beach about an hour east of the university. The very moment you arrive, you hop out of the car to run towards the water with your arms out as Yoongi affectionately sighs and follows suit. Before thinking twice, you’re kicking your shoes off and splashing around in the low tide. Your boyfriend clicks his tongue, but joins you anyway and trudges through the wet sand to chase after you.

When he nabs you by the waist and spins you in the air, you kick your feet while squealing for him to put you down. His laughter fills your ears along with the soothing sound of the waves and you swear your heart’s never felt so full. 

He attacks the side of your face with kisses before putting you down so you can splash around in the shallow water. You successfully avoid getting your clothes too wet and spend a couple hours there at most, eventually lounging on the beach while sitting between Yoongi’s legs to watch the sunset together.

The special spot becomes a staple of your relationship as you often travel there whenever either of you needs a break from the world. Sometimes you even bring Holly with you so he can swim and run along the shoreline.

You don’t realize the trip there for your fourth anniversary will be your last until much later. 

The day your life changes forever begins just as innocuously as any other. You and Yoongi wake up a couple minutes apart and start preparing for your respective workdays. It’s the middle of winter, just after the holidays, making it pretty difficult to find the motivation to leave your bed, but Yoongi pulls you up and leads you under the warm water of the shower. 

It certainly helps that he joins you; your early morning, steamy make out sufficiently waking you up and giving you a boost of energy to start the day.

By the time you’re walking out the door, it’s borderlining on you two being late for work, so you give each other a quick kiss goodbye and repeat “I love you” before going your separate ways. 

Work is irritatingly boring, as it always is in the winter since most people stay inside rather than flooding the streets for events and farmer’s markets. You still force yourself to be as productive as possible by making it through your to-do list and scheduling some interviews. 

Upon arriving home, Holly greets you at the door and you spend some quality time petting him. Once he’s seemingly satisfied, you grab his kibble from the kitchen to feed him his dinner. You’re about to search for the ingredients to make dinner for you and Yoongi when your phone rings. 

When you glance at the caller ID, you’re surprised to see Yoongi’s mother’s name. She doesn’t call often despite the two of you being so close, usually opting to text you with various emojis to express her ideas.

You answer the phone immediately and hurriedly press the phone to your ear, an eerie feeling creeping in the longer you wait.

“Mama Min? Is everything alright?” 

Your boyfriend’s mother is softly crying on the other end of the line and your heart stops beating in your chest.

“Y/N, dear, you need to come to the hospital. There’s been an accident,” she states through shaky vocal chords.

“What? What do you mean?”

“It’s Yoongi, dear. Just come quickly.”

“Yoongi…” You aren’t sure if you can feel your heart in your chest at all anymore. “Is he alright?”

“I’ll explain everything when you get here,” she tells you. 

The immense feeling of urgency coursing through you is far too great to beg her for further explanation. Instead, you grab your coat and bag before sprinting out of the apartment. The drive to the hospital is egregiously long despite the building only being ten minutes down the road. 

Anxiety and fear are pumping alongside the blood in your veins as you rap your hands against the steering wheel and force yourself not to believe the worst, but you can’t shake the sensation that something is very, very wrong. You and Yoongi have a connection like no other, and there’s a pit in your stomach telling you the red string of fate which ties you together is being stretched thin.

When you reach the emergency room, you bolt inside and ask for his room number while still panting from both your nerves and the running. It feels as though you’re moving on autopilot, but it’s your only option when your mind is sinking into a deep, dark abyss. 

You notice Yoongi’s parents as the nurse leads you towards the waiting room and they look like zombies. Their normally cheerful faces are pale and expressionless, causing your already extreme emotions to spike off the charts.

“Mama Min?” You call out to her.

She looks at you with sorrowful eyes and tear stained cheeks. Yoongi’s dad doesn’t even glance up, burying his face in his hands instead as if he can’t bear to witness what’s about to happen.

Yoongi’s mom calmly stands and walks towards you before taking both your hands and squeezing them.

“Y/N —”

“Where is he? Can I see him?” 

She grimaces as more tears collect in her waterline.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

That’s all she needs to say for you to know. In fact, you don’t think you can handle hearing it out loud. You can’t hear the words you’ve known to be true since the second she called you. 

“No,” you cry.

“Y/N, dear —”

“No. No. No.” Your knees give out and his poor mom has to catch you before you fall to the floor. You scream and sob into her blouse, desperately clutching the fabric as you struggle to breath. “No! Not him! Please, anyone but him!”

She attempts to comfort you and keep you upright, but your loud weeping only worsens as the heavy weight of reality crushes your very soul. You can’t feel anything. Not your heart, your head, or your body. It’s just anguish, pain, and despair suffocating you in a blanket of darkness. 

When your wailing finally simmers into broken whimpers, you collapse into a chair as your eyes attempt to focus on the world around you, but it’s entirely devoid of color. Like a film from the nineteen-twenties, everything is monotone and blurry around the edges. Ironically, it gives you a small glimmer of hope that it’s because this is merely all a horrific nightmare. 

The world is spinning too slowly and too fast all at the same time. The doctor asks if you wish to see him before he’s transported to the morgue and the question itself breaks your heart all over again. His parents saw him before calling you, so you’re the only loved one left to visit him. 

At first, you can’t bring yourself to answer the man. Nothing feels real enough to say yes or no. 

Eventually, your consciousness returns to earth and you respond by nodding and following him into another room. There’s a white sheet covering the steel table, but you can see the familiar outline of the body you know better than your own beneath it.

“He has some cuts and bruises on his face from the accident,” the doctor warns you. 

You nod again to express that you understand. 

He peels the sheet back just enough for you to see Yoongi’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he’s asleep. He’s always been pale and the cuts and bruises are minor. His peaceful expression nearly tricks your brain into thinking everything is alright, but when you brush your fingers along his face, he’s cold and hard as stone, causing you to break down again.

“Yoongi,” you weep and caress his cheek. It doesn’t matter that he isn’t warm and soft anymore. He’s still yours; still the man you love. “Please, Yoongi, you can’t leave me.” Your head falls to his chest as you sob into the white cloth. The heartbeat you're so used to hearing is silent. “Please, my love.”

You know for certain he’s gone because Yoongi would never not give you what you’re asking for. If he was able, he would spring up and return your embrace; kiss your hair and tell you everything’s going to be okay. That’s the type of man he was and it makes perfect sense all the vibrancy is gone from the universe. 

The doctor is kind enough to give you all the time you need before escorting you out. As you walk back to the waiting room together, he explains what happened. 

No one else was involved or injured. His car hit a patch of ice, causing it to spin out before colliding with the median on the highway, killing him on impact. That’s all there is to it. The tragedy which stole the love of your life from you wasn’t caused by anyone or anything but mother nature. 

You have to stop by the restroom to throw up the contents of your stomach before meeting his parents again. 

When you return home in a complete daze, Holly’s barking is the only thing your overactive mind hears. Your eyes land on the poodle at your feet who’s staring up at you without a care in the world and it shatters you. Instantly falling to your knees to scoop him into your arms, you cry into his fur as the clueless animal affectionately licks your face.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whimper. “Daddy’s not coming home.”

He doesn't understand what you're saying and won’t notice Yoongi’s absence right away, but you tell him regardless because you still need comfort even if he doesn’t yet. 

There’s a massive funeral a couple days later where nearly the entire city comes to mourn your beloved boyfriend. Professors, colleagues, coworkers, and his pupils along with their parents all appear to pay their respects. After the eulogy, his supervisor announces the wing where he volunteered and subsequently worked will be named after him. The dean of your university pulls you aside during the luncheon and informs you that if you wish to obtain your graduate degree, it will be fully paid for in his honor. 

Everyone is so kind and supportive, but you’re too numb to appreciate anything. Your limbs seem to move on their own, going through the motions without a conscience guiding them. 

His mother comes over to organize the apartment the following week after you decide to stay. Despite how awful living here without him is, you don’t want to uproot Holly while he’s still so confused about his dad disappearing. He cries by the door every night and you assume taking him elsewhere will only cause more abandonment issues. It’s also partially for you. This is your home and it’s too difficult to lose both Yoongi and the place you shared at the same time. 

You’re in the living room sorting through his clothes for donation when his mom comes in and sits beside you. She looks sympathetic as she hands you a small box along with a folded piece of paper.

“I found this in his sock drawer,” she tells you.

A questioning expression crosses your face as you take the items from her and open the box. Inside sits a beautiful diamond ring with a single, round center stone. The unexpected sight makes you gasp in shock and awe before clasping your hand over your mouth. Realization dawns on you and crumbles all of your resolve built up over the last two weeks. 

Shaking hands work to quickly unfold the note as you inhale slowly with nervousness and anticipation. 

His handwriting is unmistakable. It covers the entirety of the page along with scribbles and scratch marks where he crossed out phrases in order to rewrite them. 

My sweetheart

Y/N

My Y/N, you know I’m not a man of many words, but the words I use to describe you will always be the most special ones I utter. You make me a better man. I am a better man because of you and regardless of what our future holds that will always be stand true. Selfishly, I hope our future is everlasting, but I know that’s partially up to me. 

That’s why Which is why I want to ask you something that’s been on the tip of my tongue for years. Every time I see you, whether dolled up or dressed down, I nearly say shout it out of pure eagerness to call you mine forever. It’s very unlike me, I know, but that’s what you do to me, sweetheart. 

So, my wonderful girl, will you marry me? will you do me the honor of marrying me?

(note to self – practice until it’s perfect)

You sob into your hand while holding the ring and paper to your heart. Yoongi was going to propose. He was planning on asking you to marry him and if he was still here, you may already be fiancés. His mom attempts to comfort you with a gentle touch to your spine, but it doesn’t help. Nothing will ever stop the pain. 

Oh, I’m falling in love.

Jungkook listens attentively as you explain in great detail about the love you lost, obviously omitting the memories of your sex life. It’s the first time you’re opening up about what happened and during moments that seem tougher for you to explain, he takes your hand and caresses your knuckles, but other than that he remains silent beside you. 

When you finish your monologue with heavy tears rolling down your face and hiccups escaping your lips, he asks if he can hug you. You rapidly nod and nearly crash into his chest with how forcefully you embrace him. He instantly takes you into his arms and pulls you as close as he can, to the point you’re almost in his lap. Deep sobs rattle your rib cage and your sadness soaks his coat, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just continues holding you and comfortingly shushing you for as long as you need. 

You eventually cry yourself to sleep in his arms and Jungkook doesn’t move an inch while you rest from the emotional taxation of relaying your story to him. Today of all days, no less. 

Upon waking up, you slowly observe your surroundings. Being in Jungkook’s arms feels unusual, but not entirely unwelcome. He’s warm and strong; you feel safe in his hold and don’t want to leave his grasp just yet. 

He notices you’re awake and brushes some of your hair away from your face while softly smiling at you. He’s always so gentle with you and you’re not sure how to handle your heart skipping a beat because of it. His kindness seems endless and you know you’ll never meet another soul quite like his in this lifetime. 

“Are you alright, angel?” Jungkook asks while analyzing your expression. You reply by nodding and nuzzling your face in his firm chest. “Let me take you home.”

“I drove,” you whisper.

“I know, but we can come back and get your car another day.”

You don’t argue against his suggestion, especially given your current state. Jungkook helps you up and leads you by the hand to his car parked near your own. He waits while you grab your essentials before opening his passenger door for you to hop in.

The drive is quiet save for soft music playing through the speakers. You appreciate his willingness to give you whatever you need, whether that be silence or conversation. 

About thirty minutes in, he clears his throat before lowering the volume.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you agree.

“What made you want to become a psychologist? Afterwards, I mean.”

His question catches you off guard as it’s been a couple years since deciding to return to school for your degree.

“I went to visit Yoongi’s work a couple months after to see the kids and give them some of his things to remember him by. When I was there, it was so painfully obvious how large of a hole he left. He was this huge light in their life and in the world. So, I vowed to fill it as best I could. Not only for them, but for me, because it makes me feel close to him even though he’s gone.”

Jungkook nods in understanding and offers you a sweet smile.

“That’s amazing, Y/N. I know you’ll do so many wonderful things with your degree,” he wholeheartedly states. “So, those people you visit in Daegu every month, it’s his folks?”

“Mmhm. They still treat me like a daughter even after all these years,” you tell him.

Jungkook hums happily at the notion.

“I’m sure having you in their life is just as important for them as it is for you.”

“I’ve told them about you,” you admit. Jungkook glances at you with wide eyes and a pinched brow. His surprised expression brings a proud grin to your face. “I told them there’s this guy who keeps surprising me… makes me feel things I never thought I would again.” You chuckle while remembering their response. “They told me I can only bring you over to meet them once I ‘buck up and make you mine.’”

Jungkook’s infectious laugh fills the car and makes your heart feel warm. 

“Well, I’d love to meet them once you do that, angel,” he replies.

Although your heart still has a long way to go before then, you like the sound of Jungkook being yours. 

Finally telling him the truth and shedding light on why you’re so protective of your heart changes your relationship for the better. You mutually agree to continue taking things slow, but the passage of time allows for you to gradually form a less platonic bond.

As spring rolls in, Jungoook decides it’s about time he formally asks you out. Technically, all of your hangouts outside of school could be considered dates, but he doesn’t want to pressure you by categorizing them as such. So, he buys you a large iced chai latte and writes on the cup “can I take you out to a ball game? :)”

He receives an answer after you finish the drink and leave the empty cup on his side of the library table with a small “yes <3” written beneath his note. It’s the first relatively flirty thing you’ve ever done and his heart nearly jumps right out of his chest.

It’s the first baseball game of the season and even though you’ve never been much of a sports person, Jungkook’s sheer excitement is enough to make you feel equally enthusiastic. While driving to the stadium, he explains the many traditions of attending a baseball game and ensures you understand that you will be partaking in all of them tonight. 

Therefore, upon your arrival Jungkook buys two foam fingers, hot dogs, and a couple of large beers. He’s thoroughly impressed by how well you drink the alcohol and a smirk appears on his lips as he watches you knock back the drink like it’s nothing.

“Damn, angel,” he comments. 

“What?”

“I didn’t take you for a beer girl.”

An involuntary blush spreads across your cheeks, but you shrug it off. 

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me.”

His smile grows as he nods in agreement.

“I can’t wait to find it all out.”

After chucking your hot dog wrappers in a nearby trash can, you attempt to find your seats. Jungkook laces his fingers with yours and leads you down the many steps until you reach your destination. When you sit down, you realize how close you are to the field and the thought of him spending money on expensive tickets just so your first game and date is special makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Once you’re both comfortable in the stands, he pulls something out of his bag and places it on your head. Your eyes roll to decipher what it is, but then he delicately slaps the bill of the hat and you realize.

“What’s this?” Taking the hat off, you turn it around to find the logo of the team. “Are you giving this to me?”

“Of course! Can’t have that pretty head of yours getting burned in the sun. Besides, the gear is half the fun.” 

He wiggles the foam finger on his hand as if to prove his point and you smile at his antics.

Jungkook takes time explaining the rules of the game before it begins. He’s patient while listening to all your questions just like when he tutors students. As he points out the various positions on the field, your eyes follow his hand so by the time the game starts, you have a decent understanding and can follow along.

Halfway through the first inning, Jungkook rests his arm on the back of your chair. Whether or not it’s an intentional move or he just wants to stretch his limb, you don’t really care. It sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach all the same. 

Being on a date with Jungkook is so different from a date with Yoongi simply because the two men differ so much and yet both outings feel magical. You never thought you’d be going on dates with anyone besides your first love, but if they have to be with anyone, you’re more than happy it’s Jungkook. He’s a picture perfect gentleman, unbelievably handsome, and totally endearing. 

You chat about the upcoming semester with midterms recently behind you while sipping your beers and cheering for the team. Around the seventh inning, you’re busy complaining about an exam you spent nearly forty-eight hours studying for when the crowd grows exponentially loud. The sound returns your focus to the game just in time to see a ball heading towards the stands. Jungkook gasps and lifts his hand in the air, standing up in his seat to seamlessly snag the ball right out of the air. 

Everyone in your section erupts into cheerful hollers, including you as you start stamping your feet on the ground in excitement. Jungkook is giggling as he takes his seat and shows the ball off to you.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I just caught that!” 

You join in his laughter and shake his shoulders.

“You’re so awesome, Kook!” His smile is blinding as he blushes and bashfully bites his lower lip. After spending a moment admiring the ball, he passes it to you. “What?”

“It’s for you,” he says, like it's obvious.

“Huh? No, you caught that all on your own,” you argue.

He shakes his head and places it in your palm before closing your fingers around it.

“It’s your first game. Besides, I have one my dad caught me as a kid.”

The notion of him giving you something so special makes your heart rapidly pound in your chest and you don’t even realize what you’re doing until your lips are on his cheek. It’s a chaste kiss to his warm skin, but firm enough for him to go stiff in shock. 

Jungkook looks at you in absolute wonder, but you merely smile in response and wait for him to mirror the expression. When he does, it’s a huge, bunny-like grin that fills you with pride.

His hazy, heavy-lidded eyes make it obvious that he wants more. He unabashedly gazes at your lips before licking his own, but he knows it’s too soon and that you have to be the one to make the first move. So, he takes a deep breath and turns his attention back to the game. 

It isn’t that you don’t want to kiss him. You honestly do, but you just aren’t ready and you’re thankful he understands that.

The team wins after a couple more innings, ending the game and your first date on an inexplicably high note. 

Jungkook holds your hand and theatrically swings your arm back and forth as you walk to his car together. You truly aren’t ready for the night to end, but you know you’ll be seeing him soon once the school week begins again.

“Thanks for coming with me, angel.”

“Are you kidding? Thank you for bringing me along.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand a couple times.

“Anytime.”

The drive home consists of quietly humming along to the songs playing from the stereo and recapping highlights of the game. Once you reach your place, Jungkook walks you to the door and you thank him again with a tight hug before stepping inside. 

It was your first date in more than eight years and you still feel unbelievably giddy as you reminisce about it while preparing for bed. Unfortunately, the joyous high comes crashing down when you find Holly curled up in your bed sleeping without a care in the world, allowing for immense guilt to creep in instead. No matter how irrational the feeling is, given that it’s impossible to betray someone who’s no longer around, the heavy emotion still threatens to pull you under its dark waves. Tears fall before you can stop them and you tug Holly into your embrace to help soothe the ache in your chest. 

Before Jungkook, feelings like this would drown you and prevent you from building new connections and relationships, but after months of him supporting you, cheering you on, and comforting you, you’ve overcome the fear of letting people in. You spend the night crying your melancholy away, but wake up the next day with his voice in your head telling you to keep going. 

You continue going out on a regular basis, often repeating some of the activities you’ve already done together while throwing new ones into the mix every once in a while. For instance, Jungkook invites you over about a month after your first date to cook for you and it’s probably your favorite date of all. Not only is he an amazing chef, but he animatedly explains every step of the process like he’s the host of a cooking show. 

Once you’ve been dating for about three months, you start feeling terrible after every date that ends without you planting a kiss on his lips. He repeatedly assures you he’s more than willing to wait forever if that’s what it takes, but his words don’t help. Jungkook deserves all the smooches in the world for how often he manages to make you smile or laugh. Nearly three years passed without you feeling an ounce of joy and all at once he’s returned the emotion to you. The least you can do is find the courage to kiss him for all his efforts. 

Tonight you’re heading to his apartment after Thursday night tutoring so he can show you a new movie he thinks you’ll love. Although it isn’t necessarily a date, you enjoy spending time together whether you’re going out or staying in. 

You walk hand-in-hand back to his place while discussing plans for finals season which is already coming up next month. Summer is just around the corner, and you were initially worried about your budding relationship, but Jungkook told you he’s planning on staying in the area throughout the long break. 

He opens the door for you and you stick to the usual routine of dropping your bag by the door before making yourself comfortable on his couch. His eyes follow your movements with evident affection as he sets his own things down to join you. When he sits, he snatches your ankles and pulls you closer so your feet land in his lap. You giggle at the now mundane occurrence and rest your head on the couch cushions to admire him. He’s absentmindedly massaging your calves while searching for the movie and you aren’t sure what it is about him tonight that causes you to finally act, but perhaps it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just him and his wonderful soul that lights up your heart in your chest. 

“Kook?”

“Hmm?”

You inhale deeply.

“Will you kiss me?”

The remote drops out of Jungkook’s hand and his body goes still as a statue. It looks as though he’s avoiding moving at all so he doesn’t shatter the delicate moment. When he finally turns towards you, his eyes are large and sparkling and his cheeks and ears are light pink.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Scooting your way to his side on the couch, your shaking hand comes up to trace the collar of his shirt as you nod assuredly.

His bewildered expression turns entirely soft before he shuts his eyes to slowly lean in. One hand ever so gently caresses your cheek while his other one pushes on your lower back to bring you closer. 

The sparks created by your lips meeting for the first time could jumpstart a car. It’s incomparable to anything else you’ve felt before and you’re positive the sensation is shared between you. 

Jungkook is cautious at first, barely applying pressure as if he’s afraid you’ll run away, but then you nod to give him permission and he grips your face tighter before softly moving his lips against yours. He takes his sweet time with your first kiss, your mouths dancing to the beat of a slow, romantic ballad. You twist the fabric of his shirt in your hands the longer he kisses you, a feeling of desperation to have him closer overtaking you.

Everything about it feels so magical your heart nearly stops. It isn’t just sparks anymore, but an entire array of fireworks going off in your head. Time seems to come to a screeching halt and you almost wish it was standing still so you could remain in this moment. 

Your dreams are crushed when Jungkook pulls away all too soon, but the feeling of his fingers running across your cheek momentarily pacifies you. Blinking your eyes open, you find his big brown ones already staring at you and a twin pair of cartoonishly large smiles start to grow the longer you hold eye contact. Jungkook leans in again but only to rest his forehead on yours while he continues caressing your warm skin. 

You grab his wrist and squeeze tight, a flood of overwhelming thoughts causing you to need something to hold onto.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt anyone but Yoongi’s lips and no matter how amazing kissing Jungkook is, a multitude of negative emotions begin swirling in your chest. You do your best to fight against them; forcing them to stay deep in your gut so you can savor this special point in time.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook whispers to you. His hand on your back brings you in even more until you’re practically in his lap. “I’m here.”

“Will you do it again?”

He pulls back a hair to double check your instructions.

“Angel, we don’t —”

“I want to,” you assure him. “Please?”

He nods while moving his other hand to mirror the one on your face so he can pull you in again. 

The second kiss is still gentle, but filled with much more heat than the first. Your lips move harmoniously as your heads tilt in opposite directions to gain better access to each other. You adjust so you’re holding both his wrists and you can feel his speedy pulse beneath his skin. The evident racing of his heart makes you blush and you’re positive he can feel the influx of heat on your cheeks.

His tongue tentatively licks along your bottom lip and you automatically moan in response, giving Jungkook an opportunity to slip his tongue inside to tangle with yours. The action makes you moan again and before you even realize it you’re straddling his lap. He parrots the noise and quickly releases your face to encompass your waist instead. The new position allows him to hold you tight as you kiss and feeling his heartbeat up against your own is even better than beneath your fingertips. 

“Angel,” he mumbles against your lips. “We don’t have to keep going.”

Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper your reply into his mouth.

“I’m alright.” 

Jungkook trusts you to know your own limits and kisses you again without hesitation. His hands desperately clutch your back as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish and the sensation of being entirely surrounded by him makes your head spin. 

You take turns groaning and humming in pleasure as you continue kissing for what feels like hours, but in reality must be minutes. By the time you finally stop for oxygen’s sake, you’re both panting and your hands seem to have a mind of their own as they explore previously uncharted territory. It isn’t sexual, but rather ardent and almost wholesome as you massage his shoulders and his fingers feel along your spine. 

“That was even better than in my dreams,” Jungkook whispers.

You smile and nod in agreement. 

“So much better.”

Jungkook smirks in response.

“Oh? So, you’ve been dreaming about me?”

“Well, I’ve been dreaming about kissing. Never said it was you.”

He gawks at you before laughing out loud with his head thrown back. His eyes disappear and his nose scrunches and you don’t think he’s ever looked more adorable.

“Was that sarcasm I just heard?” He tickles you and you squeal while shying away from his hands. “Am I finally getting a glimpse of the real you, huh?”

It seems that after almost nine months of knowing one another, he truly is getting to see you for the first time.

“You are,” you admit. “I apologize in advance, you may not like her very much.”

Jungkook vehemently shakes his head.

“That’s not possible, angel. I completely adore you,” he confesses.

You kiss him again in gratitude, causing him to giggle some more before avidly returning the affection. The rest of the night is spent stealing kisses between shy smiles and laughter and you swear it’s the happiest you’ve felt in the last three and a half years.

Despite your relationship shifting into the realm of physicality, there’s still no label on it. Neither of you feel it’s necessary right now, but it does make explaining who he is slightly difficult when your parents question who you’re spending all your time with. They’re happy for you regardless and you can tell Jungkook being in your life puts their minds at ease after watching you live life alone for the longest time. 

Summer begins once exams are over and you and Jungkook celebrate by going to a drive-in movie about thirty minutes from campus. It’s a first for both of you, so you’re equally excited about experiencing it together. 

Jungkook reverses his car and you pretend him throwing his arm behind your seat to look over his shoulder doesn’t turn you on, but it’s obvious he catches the reaction when a smirk appears on his lips. Once he parks and pops the trunk, you begin laying out the various pillows and blankets you brought along to make the perfect cuddle spot for the film. He adjusts the radio which will play the audio for the film while you grab some popcorn and candy at the nearby concession stand. 

Upon your return, you find him sprawled on his back with his hands behind his head. He’s wearing a proud smirk and you snicker at his expression as you climb in beside him. He kisses you briefly before stealing one of the popcorn bags from your hands and tossing some into his mouth. 

The two of you silently munch on your treats while the previews roll, but once the movie begins, Jungkook loops his arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side. You happily curl into him and lay your head on his chest, but rather than watching the movie, you end up feeding each other popcorn and peanut m&ms by throwing them in the air and attempting to catch the flying food.

Jungkook is despicably better at it than you and the funny lines, action sequences, and romantic moments go completely unnoticed by you because you’re too busy giggling and sharing kisses. You feel slightly guilty since Jungkook paid for you to actually watch the film, but it certainly doesn’t seem like he minds all that much when he rolls on top of you and cages you in with his forearms. 

He kisses your breath away while hovering above you. His tongue licks into your mouth and you suck on the wet muscle as he groans and presses his lips down with more fervor. It’s a slow kiss, but Jungkook is undeniably passionate in his pursuit to taste you. You hold his face in both hands while one of his traces your outline before finding a home on your hip. His thumb caresses a patch of bare skin and the feeling of his warm hand on you creates goosebumps all across your arms.

“Some movie, huh?” You joke. 

Jungkook snickers while leaving a trail of kisses across your face until he reaches your neck.

“Isn’t this what a drive-in is for?” 

“In the fifties, maybe.”

He places a wet smooch on your pulse point and you keen. 

“Then let’s go back in time, angel.”

His arm loops around you to pull you flush against him and you struggle to suppress a loud moan as he continues painting your neck in kisses. 

This is the most intimate position you’ve been in so far and it allows you to feel all of him; his strong arms beside your head and around your waist, his firm chest and abs pressing against you, and his thick thighs sandwiching one of your own. His presence is all encompassing and truth be told, drives you absolutely insane. You simply can’t get enough of him even though it already feels like he’s everywhere.

The movie quickly becomes white noise in the background of your sensual make out and you’re thankful he chose to park somewhere relatively hidden from the other patrons. 

Your hands traverse his shoulders and back once he returns to your lips and sinks his tongue inside your mouth. There’s a battle for dominance that Jungkook undoubtedly wins, taking control of the kiss and pulling multiple, breathless moans from you in the process. It honestly feels as though he’s trying to consume you whole and you’re more than ready to let him.

“Kook, I want you so bad,” you tell him. 

He groans in satisfaction and gently bites down on your lower lip.

“I think it’s fairly obvious that I feel the same.” You aren’t sure whether he’s referring to his unending affection for you or the evident boner pressing on your stomach. Either way, you don’t think twice and guide his hand to your center, causing Jungkook’s breath to catch in his throat when he feels the pulsing of your core beneath his fingers. “Are you sure?”

You maintain eye contact with him as you nod your head.

“I’ve never been more sure of something.”

His smile is breathtaking as he leans down to kiss you again.

“And I’ve never wanted something more.”

Your teeth clash when you mirror the expression while attempting to kiss him back.

While you continue to lock lips, Jungkook sneaks his hand beneath the waistband of your shorts and instantly finds the wet spot on your underwear. He reactively moans while beginning to play with you over your panties, massaging your covered clit in slow circles as you whine into his mouth. 

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by anyone but yourself, and his much larger hand feels amazing even through the fabric barrier. 

When he tugs your panties to the side and touches you directly for the first time, you both gasp in ecstasy. In fact, Jungkook stops kissing you and buries his head in your neck instead. It seems like him finally getting to feel your cunt is almost as heavenly for him as it is for you. 

“You’re so wet, angel.”

He slides his fingers up and down your folds before stopping to circle your hole. 

“It’s all because of you, Kook.”

His idea of an adequate reply is to push two of his fingers into your cunt. You initially whimper at the foreign intrusion, but it turns into a saccharine whine when he starts fucking his long digits into you.

“Oh, Jungkook.”

“God, you feel better than I ever imagined.” 

The praises happen at the same time, your lust-filled voices interrupting one another and causing you both to giggle. Jungkook presses a light kiss to your cheek and leaves his lips on your skin while working to stretch your hole wider. His digits are rubbing along your inner walls, but he simultaneously uses the heel of his palm to create friction on your clit. It makes perfect sense that his attentive and caring nature translates to the way he fucks, but you’re still surprised by how well he pleasures you without ever touching you before.

A squelching sound accompanies each curl of his fingers inside you, but luckily the movie is loud enough to drown out the erotic noise to anyone but you two.

“Look at you, angel,” he whispers directly in your ear. “You're turning my tattoos white.”

To show you what he means, he pulls his hand away from your hole so you can see the way your essence coats his fingers. The sight makes you feel more desirable than you ever have, but it’s gone a second later when he unceremoniously penetrates you again and makes a come hither motion inside your cunt. 

“Fuck,” you whine. 

His fingertips are tickling just the right spot inside you and bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm faster than you anticipated. Then again, nothing about your relationship with Jungkook has been predictable.

He kisses your neck again when he feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and adds his thumb to the mix by rubbing your swollen clit to push you over the edge.

“Come for me.” He licks your neck before biting into your flesh. “Please.”

You don’t think you have the willpower to say no to him, nor do you want to. His deep voice begging you to release all over his fingers is enough to bring you an orgasm all by itself. Couple that with the stimulation inside your walls and on your clit and you’re already a goner. 

The overwhelming orgasm makes your legs shake as your cunt tightens around Jungkook like a vice. He pleasurably groans into your skin as a twin sound leaves your parted lips. 

“Jungkook,” you whimper. 

His mouth travels via singular kisses across your throat, jaw, and cheek until he’s back where he belongs. He continues to kiss and fuck you through the entire high, only removing his hand from your warmth once he feels your body relax beneath him.

He opens his mouth wide to make a sinful show of licking his fingers clean, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he sucks your cum off his skin.

“Fuck, you taste s’good,” he moans as his eyes roll back.

You aren’t sure what it is about his words that causes your heart to split right down the middle. Perhaps his voice sounds reminiscent of Yoongi’s or the phrase itself is too familiar. Either way, your reaction is involuntary and immediate as you curl into yourself and muffle the sound of your cries with your palm.

It takes Jungkook a second to notice the adverse effect his praise has on you, but once he does, he springs into action by scooping you into his arms. He pulls you into his lap and presses his lips to your ear while shushing you and whispering sweet nothings in an attempt to calm you down. 

It unfortunately doesn’t help the situation in the slightest and you desperately clutch his shirt as your emotions threaten to drown you in pitch black water. 

He lets you sob into his chest until you don’t have any tears left to cry and he never once complains or tries to stop you. When the sound of you weeping softens into quiet whimpers, he lifts your chin up and delicately wipes away the remnants of your tears.

“Talk to me, angel.”

You shake your head and rest your forehead against his collarbone.

“I don’t know what happened. I just felt so much despair all of the sudden,” you explain.

“Was it something I did?”

“No, Kook. You’re… so fucking perfect.” He kisses the crown of your head in thanks. “Every time I want more I just get this overwhelming thought that I’m somehow betraying him.”

Jungkook cups your face so you’re eye to eye for his next statement.

“You’re not betraying him, Y/N. Nothing you and I do together will ever take away from what you and him shared.” He tucks your hair behind your ear before softly kissing your cheek. “I know it’s easier said than done, but I hope you can learn to believe that.”

Jungkook has a unique ability to consistently ease your mind with words alone and you show your appreciation by throwing your arms around his neck for a bone-crushing hug. He naturally reciprocates the embrace and you remain in the position for a while before eventually tumbling into the pile of blankets.

You cuddle through the rest of the movie as he continues to soothe you by rubbing your back and you trace miscellaneous shapes on his chest. It feels like your night went from a hundred to zero and it’s all your fault, but he doesn’t make you feel guilty about anything. 

He’s hands down the most patient man you’ve ever met and you’re certain he’s one of a kind.

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