Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

Your legs felt like they were ready to give out at any moment. With the lack of food in your system and the amount of walking you’ve done, you’re just about ready to collapse to the ground. Meanwhile your mother continues ahead of you, happy to step into the next shop to search for more clothes. 

It was a pain shopping with your mother. She must take her sweet time, having the store employees bring her clothes so she can scrutinize them one by one until there’s something deemed to her liking or approval. 

You just came out of the Hermes store after what seems like an hour later, your mother having bought four new purses because according to her, “My other Hermes bags are in poor condition.” Though you know it was an excuse to buy four other colors so she can match them with her outfits. If there’s one thing your mother isn’t, that is an outfit repeater. You would never catch her wearing the same outfit in public more than once.

You love your mother, you really do. It makes you happy to spend time with her, especially since you were away from her for so long. However, her way of spending time with you is by going shopping whereas all you want to do is sit in and watch a movie with her. You don’t think this woman has ever actually sat down to watch a movie since you were a kid. 

It’s been a few days since you’ve been home. There hasn’t been much going on other than you watching Netflix in the theater room you guys have in the house and munching on whatever the home chefs have cooked. 

Your mother walked in on you eating a pint of the brown sugar brittle ice cream while binging the latest Korean drama people have been raving about on social media. With a disapproving look, she had told you she wants to go shopping because ‘it’s been a while since we’ve had a mother-daughter day, my love.’ 

Hence, here you are trudging behind your mother who is dressed to the nines with not a single hair out of place. Meanwhile you’re clad in a black turtleneck dress topped with an oversized dark grey blazer that reaches your mid-thigh. A large buckle is cinched around your waist, and you’ve got on a pair of black platform boots that go slightly above your ankles. In your hand you hold a black leather quilted Chanel bag. 

It's a requirement from your mother to be dressed up whenever the two of you go out because, ‘Y/N, it would be embarrassing if a fashion mogul’s daughter were to wear such basic clothing.’  Not that you have any complaints, you enjoy dressing up. You have the money and privilege to buy nice clothing you might as well take advantage of it. 

More than yourself, you feel bad for your mother’s assistant who is walking beside her with at least ten bags in her hands from all the designer shops you’ve visited. You insisted on helping her carry some of them, but she just wouldn’t budge. Probably too afraid to hand you a bag in front of your mother. 

You need some form of food or beverage in your system before you pass out. You call for your mother before she enters the MAC makeup store, causing her to stop in her tracks and look at you expectantly with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mother, you can look through this store while I get a drink from that café we just passed,” you tell her, referring your hand to the coffee shop two stores behind. 

She raises her eyebrows, gaze switching between the café and you before speaking, “Sweetheart, we have reservations at Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul at seven.” She taps her manicured nail on top of her Rolex watch to point out the time being six-thirty. 

You purse your lips, eyes shutting so you don’t end up rolling them at her, “It’s just a drink, mother.” 

“Drink that is probably made with cheap ingredients. I’m sure the French restaurant has a—” She starts but you interrupt her before she can finish. 

“Mother, I’m just really thirsty right now and would like a drink,” Voice controlled in attempt to not sound too irritated with her, you give her a tight-lipped smile. 

She lets out a defeated sigh, looking at her assistant who just shrugs in response. “Fine but be quick.” And with that, her assistant opens the door of the shop, bags rustling on her elbow and your mother disappears inside. 

Shoulders relaxing and a breath of relief escaping your lips, you head inside of the café. The sweet smell of pastries and coffee immediately fill your nostrils, making you smile in delight. The atmosphere is nice and cozy, korean ballads playing on the speakers. 

+ 

“Okay so what other suggestions do you have?” Jimin asks Taehyung incredulously, straw touching his pursed lips. 

“How about sky diving?” Taehyung responds, slurping his strawberry crème Frappuccino loudly. It’s quiet for a moment, causing him to look up between his friends, “What?” He wonders in genuine confusion. 

Jeongguk just shakes his head tiredly, drinking his own mocha frappe and enjoying the frozen taste of the chocolatey beverage swirled with a hint of bitterness. He’s more of a Frappuccino and juice kind of guy over lattes and americanos. He doesn’t understand how his friends drink that nasty stuff. 

The three of them are currently sitting in a booth of a coffee shop they frequent at since it’s close to the record store their friend, Yoongi, owns. Well, also because their Jin hyung is the manager here and he’s currently working at the front. They can hear his windshield wiper laugh at something one of the old men playing chess by the window said.

Jeongguk met up with the other two after finishing his shift at the restaurant he works at. Luckily, he didn’t have to go to the Kim’s estate today for his gardening job. Taehyung was coming from his job where he works at a pottery studio whereas Jimin just finished teaching a dance class. The three of them were talking about things they can do for Jeongguk’s birthday which happens to be in a few weeks. 

Jeongguk insisted it was too early to even plan anything, but Jimin insisted that they should at least have some form of idea for what they can do. Being the angel that Jimin is, he would never let any of their friends not celebrate their birthday. He was the one who started the whole celebration tradition every time someone in their friend group’s birthday came around. 

“Tae,” Jimin holds is head in his hand, “You do realize Jin hyung and Hobi hyung would never do that.” 

“Sure they would,” Taehyung quips enthusiastically, mouth wrapping around the straw again to slurp his drink. 

“No,” Jeongguk shakes head, “They won’t. They would piss themselves before we’d even get on the plane.” He looks at Jimin, “Why do we even ask him for suggestions? You know he always has spontaneous ideas.” 

With an offended look, hand on his chest, Taehyung says, “My ideas are always fun. It’s not my fault you guys are pussies.” 

“We can’t even afford to go sky driving, you fool.” Jimin tells him and Taehyung pauses in place, mouth open in thought for a few seconds. 

“Wait, you’re right. We’re too poor for that.” Taehyung deflates, leaning his back against the cushioned booth. 

“Look, we still have time, hyung. And you know me,” Jeongguk leans back against the cushion as well, twirling his straw in his drink, “My birthday isn’t a big deal. We can just hang out at Jin hyung’s apartment or something.” He suggests. 

“Yah! Why do you guys always wanna celebrate at my apartment?” The handsome man in question interrupts, walking up next to their table. There was a black apron wrapped around his waist, indicating that he was still on his shift. 

“Because your apartment is the biggest out of everyone’s,” Jeongguk tells him matter-of-factly, scooting over with an irritated sigh when Jin shoves him aside so he can sit down.

“So what? You guys always make a ruckus every time you come over,” Jin whines, “Remember last time when you were at my house. I had complaints from the floors above and below and my neighbors next door.”

“It’s not our fault Jimin hyung was cheating in monopoly,” Taehyung remarks and Jimin gasps out of offense. 

“For the millionth, I was not cheating!” He defends but the three of them still don’t believe it. There was no way he was able to win all those properties. 

“Yeah yeah,” Jin waves off, “Whatever you say.” Jimin just pouts in return, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against the booth. 

“You guys are dickheads, full offense,” Jimin sneers at all of them. “You have no faith that I can win at a game just because I—” He’s cut off by a loud gasp coming from Taehyung, startling all of them. 

“What is it?” Jeongguk asks curiously, taking in his friend’s agape jaw as he stares passed them towards something at the front. 

“Did Mr. Lee flip the table again after losing in chess?” Jin groans, about to stand up so he can break up the fight between the two old men again. 

Those chess games are always intense. Last time Jeongguk was at the coffee shop, he saw Mr. Lee raise his cane at the other man out of anger but before he can smack him, Jin had to step in between only to get whacked in the head. Jeongguk could’ve sworn that he was going to die of laughter that day.

“No dude…” Taehyung leans his cheek on his palm and sighs dreamily, “There’s this really pretty girl who just ordered at the cash register and she’s holding one of those leather quilted Chanel bags.” They all shake their heads at him because he’s so damn dramatic. 

“No way,” Jin grunts, “Every customer I served today was old and smelled like—”

“Holy shit, she’s got the cutest face,” Taehyung pants and everyone at the table grows curious. Jimin scoots all the way down until he’s sticking his head out the booth like Taehyung to see what he’s talking about. 

“Oh, he’s not kidding,” Jimin stares along with the boy. 

This peaks Jeongguk and Jin’s interest, causing them to turn their heads and look as well. Jeongguk follows their line of vision, eyes widening in recognition because it’s you. You’re standing there in front of the pick-up counter, dressed in stylish clothes that are most likely very expensive. Your eyes wander around the coffee shop, a small smile playing on your lips as you wait for your order

Jin whistles, mouth open as well, “She looks expensive.” He comments. 

“She is,” Jeongguk responds, causing the three of the guys to look at him questioningly, “That’s Mr. Kim’s daughter.” 

“That’s her?” Jimin gawks.

“You weren’t kidding about how hot she is,” Jin adds. 

Jeongguk doesn’t look away, watching how you hold the door open for an elder lady whose hands were full, offering to help her out. The lady shakes her head with a smile on her face and you lightly bow your head in return, giving her a sweet smile. 

He’s been seeing you by the pool from time to time. It’s been a few days since he first met you. You guys didn’t interact much. Whenever you were around one another, you would greet each other with a smile or wave but nothing more. You’d say hi to Jeongguk whenever you were sitting by the pool and he’d wave back, trying not to stare at you for too long because he didn’t want to look like a creep. He just couldn’t himself sometimes and peek some glances at you reading a book, clothed in a new swimsuit. Some of them would show a little more cleavage than normal and he’d try not to look.

Sometimes he would see Dohyun attempt to conversate with you, stuttering out of nervousness but you were never rude about it, just responding back politely to the boy. 

You genuinely seemed like a nice person much to Jeongguk’s surprise. He would’ve thought the daughter of a rich family like yours would be stuck up and snobby. But you weren’t. You seemed to be independent, doing things yourself without the help of the butlers or maids in the house. 

“Dude…” Taehyung whispers, “I can’t believe you get to see her whenever you’re working. You must be jerking off somewhere in private.” 

Jeongguk looks at him with furrowed brows and a scowl on his face, “Listen, there’s a time and place for jerking off and it wouldn’t be at their house.” 

“Ahhh so you admit you do that when you leave from there?” Jin smirks but Jeongguk just glares in return. 

“I can’t stand you guys sometimes,” He mumbles, peaking at you one more time before looking down at the table again. 

He would’ve loved to talk to you more but for some reason, he’s been hesitant. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re basically the daughter of his boss and he’d get in trouble for talking with you, let alone being near you.. Or he’s just intimidated by you for some reason even though you look like you wouldn’t even harm a fly. 

“What was her name again?” Jimin asks.

“Y/N…” Jeongguk mumbles. 

“Don’t worry dude, I’ll help you out,” Taehyung reassures and Jeongguk just looks at him confused before his eyes widen because— “Hey Y/N! Over here!” 

Jeongguk wants to die. He wants the ground to open a hole and swallow him. He wants to disappear for good. Maybe move to Amsterdam. But before running away, he’s going to murder Kim Taehyung and toss his body into the Han River. 

“Tae!” Jeongguk hisses, lips pursed and nostrils flaring out of annoyance. 

“Oh shit, she’s coming over here,” Taehyung whispers, smiling excitedly and waving at the approaching person. 

Stupid Taehyung and his stupid social butterfly personality. 

Jeongguk covers his face with his hand, feeling his ears burning up because you’re going to see that it’s him and know that he talked about you to his friend because how else would Taehyung know your name. 

“Hi…do I know you? Oh—Jeongguk?” You sounded wary at first, most likely because you didn’t know who Taehyung was and why he knew your name, but your voice changed to realization when you recognize him sitting at the table as well. 

Jeongguk lifts his hands from his face to look at you, “Hey Y/N.” 

“Hey…” You greet back, flashing him a small smile. “I was wondering how you,” You refer to Taehyung, “knew my name.” 

“Ah yes, Jeongguk told us you live at the house he’s been working at,” Taehyung clarifies, and you look like you’re holding back a smile. Jeongguk attempts to avoid your curious glance, staring down at the table. “I’m Kim Taehyung, Jeongguk’s best friend.” 

Ex-best friend now, Jeongguk thinks. 

You shake the hand Taehyung is holding out, “I’m Y/N but it looks like you already know that.” You chuckle. 

Death, where are you? When are you coming?

“I’m Jimin,” The boy sitting next to Taehyung introduces himself, flashing his signature eye smile where his eyes turn into crescent which automatically causes you to smile back in return. 

The Park Jimin effect. You already seem charmed by it. 

“Nice to meet you, Jimin,” you nod your head towards him. 

“And allow me to introduce myself, I am Seokjin, but you can call me Jin,” The older man speaks, holding out his hand for you to shake as well. “I am the man who raised,” Pointing his thumb towards Jeongguk behind him, “This kid right here.” 

Jeongguk scoffs, “You didn’t raise me.” 

“As you can see, when they grow older, they become ungrateful pieces of shits,” Jin speaks through a smile, making you cover your mouth and laugh. 

“I see,” Your eyes meet Jeongguk’s once again before they look away. . 

“So, what brings you down here, Y/N?” Taehyung asks, chin resting on his hand to show you that he has your full attention. 

“Oh nothing,” You shake your head and let out a tired sigh, “Just been shopping with my mother for hours. I got thirsty and decided to get a drink.” 

Jeongguk can see how nervous you are with the way your hand is tightly clenching the chain of your purse. The tip of your ears are a little red and you don’t hold eye contact with any of them for too long.

You must not talk to people often. 

“Nice, nice,” Taehyung nods and then glances down at something in your hand, making you curious and check what he’s looking at. 

Jeongguk wants to smack his palm against his face. There’s no way he’s about to ask if—

“Is that real Chanel?”

Of course, he would ask. 

There’s no way Taehyung wouldn’t ask when he’s a fan of fashion and constantly splurges on designer wear when he can. 

“Oh, um I think it is,” You hold up the black purse, “I’ve had it for some time I guess it looks a little worn out.” 

“No way, I just…it’s so shiny,” Taehyung marvels, making you chuckle. “Do you mind if I look at it?” 

Yep, it’s done. They’re done. Jeongguk can’t do this anymore. 

Jimin smacks Taehyung’s shoulder, causing the other boy to flinch while Jeongguk groans, face in his hands again. Jin just laughs out loud, smacking the table.

“Yah! You don’t just ask someone that,” Jin muses and Taehyung just pouts, looking like a kicked puppy.

“It’s okay,” You laugh, “I don’t mind.” You hand the purse over as if you’ve known Taehyung all his life and there’s no big deal with just simply handing him a two-thousand-dollar purse.

You just met the guy, Jeongguk thinks. 

“Iced vanilla latte for Y/N!” One of the café workers call, forcing you to look away. 

“Oh, I’ll be right back,” You inform, pulling away from the table to get your drink. 

As soon as you leave to get the drink, Jeongguk crumbles his receipt and tosses it at Taehyung’s face, hitting his forehead. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Taehyung ignores Jeongguk, “This is such a nice purse, guys feel it.” He holds out the purse in the center of the table and Jimin and Jin poke it curiously. 

“Feels luxurious,” Jin comments and Jimin nods in agreement. 

“You guys are killing me,” Jeongguk groans, watching you walk back to the table after saying thank you to the worker. 

“Y/N, this is such a nice purse,” Taehyung tells you, handing you your purse bag so you can shrug the chain onto your shoulder again.

“Oh, thank you,” You wrap your lips around the iced latte to take a sip. “This is a good latte.” 

“It probably would’ve been even better if I made it,” Jin jokes, though Jeongguk knows he’s being serious. You giggle, straw between your lips. 

You have such a cute laugh, he thinks. Jeongguk wouldn’t mind hearing it more. In fact, he’s a little jealous that his friends are making you laugh when he’s barely talked to you. Before anyone can say anything else, the sound of a cell phone ringing causes you guys to halt. 

“Oop, sorry about that,” You mutter, setting your drink down onto the table so you can open your purse and dig through it for your phone. He notices how you roll your eyes, clicking the volume button to turn off the ringing. “It’s my mother. She’s probably wondering where I am right now.” 

Jeongguk deflates, a little bummed that you must leave. But at the same time, he feels relief because he doesn’t think he can handle any more embarrassing comments from his friends. 

“Awh that’s okay. It was nice meeting you!” Taehyung beams. 

Your lips pull into a bright smile, “You as well. It was lovely to meet all of you.” 

Your eyes meet with Jeongguk’s a little longer than the rest of everyone else when you say goodbye to them, causing his lips to pull into a small smirk. There’s a certain gleam in your eye and he notices that you’re trying not to smile too widely. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeongguk,” You mutter shyly, and he nods, watching you wave at the other boys one last time before leaving the coffee shop. 

“He’s staring,” Jimin laughs, seeing how Jeongguk’s eyes watch you disappear down the sidewalk. 

He feels something wet in his ear, causing him to flinch. He looks at Jin in disgust when he realizes the man put his finger in his mouth before poking it into his ear. The older man is just laughing that hideous laugh of his.

“Dude what the fuck,” Jeongguk whacks his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re older than us? or are you 10?”

“Yah! We were calling your name, but you were too busy watching her leave,” Jin snickers. 

“I was just…” Think of an excuse, Jeongguk. “I was trying to make sure she left safely.” His eyes might’ve stared a little too long at your bare legs, but he won’t admit that. 

“No but for real dude, you weren’t kidding. She’s cute,” Taehyung says and the other two boys nod. 

“You calling her over here, did not fucking help,” Jeongguk glowers and Taehyung just waves it off. 

“Please,” Taehyung finishes the rest of his drink, “You’re gonna thank me later because at least she knows you talk about her.” 

Jeongguk just stares at him, lips parted, and eyebrows furrowed. “She’s gonna think I’m weird.” 

“You’ve always been weird. Somehow chicks still dig that,” Jin adds, standing up from the table to go back to the kitchen. 

“She was definitely looking at you a lot, Guk-ah.” Jimin remarks and Jeongguk just shrugs in response. 

“Taehyung, you’re dead to me,” Jeongguk scoots out of the booth, ready to go home. 

“Thank you so much, Taehyung.” Taehyung changes the tone of his voice to try and imitate Jeongguk’s. “Thank you for giving Y/N the push to talk to me.” 

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Jeongguk grumbles, tossing his cup in the trash. “I’ll see you losers later.” 

+ 

The following day at the Kim estate, Jeongguk is wiping the sweat off his forehead after he finishes throwing some mulch on top of the soil. He heaves out a deep breath, squinting to avoid the sunlight that’s directly beaming down on him. He pulls off the thick gloves he’s wearing and tosses them onto the ground. His palms are sweaty, causing him to grimace and wipe it against his shirt. 

Pulling his phone out from the pocket of his jumpsuit to look at the time, it was three thirty-four in the afternoon which means it was almost time for him to pack up and go. He begins putting the tools into a bucket, ready to take it back to the shed. 

Luckily, Dohyun isn’t here today to bother him like he usually does by the end of the work day. He called in about something important he had to do. Jeongukk doesn’t know and he certainly doesn’t care. 

Earlier when he was in the backyard with one of the other workers, he noticed that you weren’t there yet. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know if he wants to see you after what happened yesterday. He’s still a little worried that you might think he’s a creep now but judging from the smile you gave him before leaving, you might be okay. 

When he’s walking towards the back with the bucket full of tools in one hand, he looks up and sees you lying on the sun lounger once again in your usual position with a book in your hand and wine glass in the other. He bites down on his lower lip, trying not to smile or look excited. However, the corners of his mouth can’t help but pull up at the sight of cute you look, invested into the book you’re reading. You eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a pout on your glossy lips. 

He disappears into the shed, setting the bucket onto the shelf. Resting his hand on top of one of the wooden tables, he taps his finger against it in contemplation. Maybe he should walk up to you and apologize about his embarrassing friends yesterday. He’s not really the type to get embarrassed though. Jeongukk doesn’t know why but your opinion of him matters for some reason. 

He also unfriended Taehyung on their PlayStation connect, refusing to play Call of Duty with him just to be petty. The other boy had called him through Jimin’s phone to whine and eventually, Jeongguk gave in. 

He turns around, walking right out of the shed only to harshly bump into your body. You almost lose balance and fall back but he quickly catches you by wrapping one of his arms around your back like the males do in those Korean dramas Jimin watches. You squeal, hands pressing to his chest. 

“Hi,” Your cheeks are flushed pink. Jeongguk just thinks it's cute that you’re flustered. 

He’s trying so hard not to dip his gaze below your neck, knowing you were in another swimsuit where your cleavage is spilling out yet again. It looks even more visible from his angle above you due to his tall stature. Jeongguk gulps, a large hand pressed over almost the entirety of your bare back and he can feel you slightly shiver. 

He is a weak man. 

Your eyes are full of surprise, lips in a pout yet they look so damn kissable. He has the strong urge to lean down and press his lips against yours, curious about how they would taste. How it feels to put his tongue in your mouth and ravish you. Your neck looks kissable too, smooth, and bare and perfect for him to bite into. 

Calm the fuck down, Jeongguk. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk muses, lips quirking into a smirk. “Looking for me?” 

“Uh…” You let out a breathy laugh, looking away, “Actually I was.” 

This takes him by surprise, brow raising in question. You purse your lips, eyes trailing from his face to his chest which your hands are still pressed against. It appears you’re trying to control yourself as well. Avoiding looking at his chest, Jeongguk tries to hold back a laugh. Clearing your throat, you pat his right pec, signaling him that you were okay, and he quickly lets go. 

“Sorry,” He mumbles, and you just shake your head. 

“No no, you’re fine. It was my fault for bumping into you like that,” You reassure, fingers twiddling together. 

“How are you doing?” You ask him and he just shrugs, leaning his shoulder against the doorway of the shed. 

Keep it cool, Jeongguk. Pretend like yesterday didn’t happen. Don’t even bring it up. 

“I’m alright. About to head out actually,” He informs you. 

“Aw really?” you ask and Jeongguk could tell you’re a little disappointed from the way your shoulders drop. 

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he tells you, making you nod understandably. “Is there something you needed?” 

Your eyes widen in surprise for a second before they turn back normal, “Um I just needed help with something but it’s okay, you can leave. I don’t wanna hold you up. I’ll just ask someone else.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, “Nah don’t worry about it. What’s up?” He prods. 

You look hesitant to speak, probably worried you’re being a bother even though you’re not. At least you’re speaking to him. He thought you would want nothing to do with him.

“The umbrella by the sunbed isn’t opening. I think the lever to pull it up is stuck,” You explain, hand referring to the closed umbrella by the chair. 

Jeongguk looks at it before glancing back at you, “I can help you.” 

Your eyes light up in happiness but you still ask, “Are you sure?” 

He responds with a nod, giving you a reassuring look, “Yeah, it won’t take long I think.” He walks with you following in toe behind him. He feels your eyes on his back and he smirks a little. 

He knows he has a nice ass. He’s been told by many. He takes great pride in it. However, it boosts his ego even more when he knows that you’re looking.  

Wrapping his hand around the lever, he grunts when it takes a bit of a push to pull it up, but it eventually does, making you clap. 

“Yay, thank you!” You grin, “The sun has been bugging me.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” He rests his hands on his hips, glancing down at the book on the table. The edge of his lips quirk up.

“What?” You follow his line of vision and notice him staring at the book, “Have you read that book before?”

“Yeah, and the ending sucked,” Jeongguk tells you, picking up the book. 

You groan, “No way, really?” And he nods in response. “I didn’t know you like romance books.” You say, curiosity in your tone. 

Jeongguk shrugs, “I don’t,” That’s a lie, he loves them. “But my little sister loves them,” No she doesn’t, she’s a fan of the horror genre but you didn’t need to know that. 

“Ah I see,” You look down at the floor, “I didn’t know you have a sister.” 

“Yeah, she’s thirteen.” Jeongguk doesn’t know why he tells you that when you didn’t even ask. 

You nod at the information, the air becoming silent for a moment. Neither of you speak, unsure of what to say. You seem to find the pool interesting, eyes set on the water, but your cheeks are flushed and you’re biting into your lower lip. Jeongguk takes that minute to allow his eyes to travel over your beautiful figure clad in a black one-piece that hugs your curves. It has a sweetheart neckline which again, shows a bit of your cleavage. There are slits running down on each side, revealing your skin even more. 

He just wanted to pick you up and take you somewhere where he can devour you. Maybe even on the sunbed but that wouldn’t look good if someone walked in. 

Jeongguk really needs to control his damn thoughts. You might not even be interested. 

Mentally slapping himself out of his horny thoughts, he clears his throat, “So I notice you read a lot of books.” 

Your eyes move back to his face and there’s a glint in your eyes, brow raised in question. “You must be looking over here a lot to notice then.” 

Fuck, Jeongguk really dug his grave for that one. Why would he say that? 

You have a knowing smile on your lips, but Jeongguk refuses to be nervous about it. Instead, he holds up his hands in defense and says, “It was just an observation,” You giggle and that makes his stomach flutter because holy shit, it was such an adorable sound, “I can’t help but look at what’s in my peripheral vision every time I come here.” He points to the shed. 

You hum, amusement apparent on your face and you don’t push it any further. Instead, you respond, “Yeah, I read a lot,” A sigh escapes your lips, “I have nothing better to do if I’m being honest.” 

Before he can even think he asks, “Don’t you have friends?” He wants to smack himself at how rude he must sound but you don’t seem to look offended. 

Rather, you have a small smile on your lips, but it looks a little sad, and you shrug mindlessly, “Not really friends friends. Most people become friends with me because they know who my parents are or they’re too stuck up for my liking. My mother tries to get me to go out with some of the girls from people that she knows but…” You shake your head, a frown on your face as if thinking back to a memory, “…they’re really not my cup of tea.” 

Jeongguk catches the small glimpse of sadness on your face and for some reason, it causes a small ache in his chest. He doesn’t know you at all, but he can tell you are genuinely being truthful about it. You seemed afraid to befriend someone without the intention of them using you. You’re not the type of person to let someone use you, he can see that. But you also seem to be a little worried about how people view you based on how he saw you interacting with his friends yesterday. 

“So, you just sit by the pool and read all day?” He asks and you nod. 

“Pretty much,” You confirm before adding, “Or watch Netflix in the theater room.” 

Jesus, they have a theater room in this house? It shouldn’t surprise him, considering how large the mansion is but it still takes him by surprise. He can only imagine how amazing his video game would look on the large screen. 

“Sounds…boring,” He states bluntly and you just laugh, nodding your head. 

“It can be boring,” You agree. 

Jeongguk ponders for a moment, looking away from you. Your life sounds pretty lame if he’s being honest. You’re a nice girl, he thinks. You don’t have much going on and you just got back from college. He can’t imagine how your days are going to look. If you’re just going to sit by the pool and read the rest all of the time…then maybe he can help. 

He doesn’t know if he’s going to regret this. Or if he’s going to get in trouble for being involved with you, let alone talking with you. Jeongguk likes to think of himself as a pretty fun guy. Maybe he can show you just how to have fun. 

He can’t believe he’s about to offer you this. Here goes nothing. 

The tall boy clears his throat, opening his mouth to say, “You know,” You look at him, listening, “I was actually just about to head to this bar after work.” He really wasn’t but he can use a drink. “Do you wanna come?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the question, “Me?” 

Jeongguk snorts, “You’re the only one here aren’t you?” 

You roll your eyes, cheeks tinting a little but you compose yourself, “Right. That would be–” 

Before you can finish answering, a shrill voice calls for your name, causing you both to turn your heads to the door. Standing at the door dressed in a pristine white suit is a woman, sunglasses perched on her nose and hair tied in a tight bun. Her lips are set in a straight line and she’s staring at Jeongguk and you. 

She looks kind of scary if you ask Jeongguk. 

Is this who Jeongguk thinks it is? 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” The woman asks accusingly. 

“Mother,” Mother? “I just had to ask Jeongguk for help,” You tell her, “The umbrella wouldn’t open.” Your hand refers to the umbrella by the sunbed. 

The woman hums but she still looks unimpressed. Jeongguk can already tell she wasn’t a fan of him. He can’t imagine how the scene looks to her; you standing a tad bit close to him, a house worker who she must think is slacking on the job. Not only that but the tattoos all over his arm must make her think he’s some sort of punk. 

Not that it’s new to Jeongguk. He’s used to the last bit. 

“Hm, well come inside,” Her voice is a little stern and he catches you rolling your eyes at ground, “And you,” She looks over Jeongguk, “Get back to work.” 

You would think that Jeongguk is intimidated by Mrs. Kim but he’s really not. Instead, he gives her a smug smile, “I’m actually off work now, ma’am.” 

“Oh,” Seoyeon has a fake smile on her face, “Well then you can lead yourself out of the gate over there.” 

“Of course,” Jeongguk bows, pretending to be oblivious to her small frown. He looks over at you to see you staring at your mom with a look that says ‘you’re being rude.’ 

“I’ll be there in a second,” You inform her. 

“No, now,” Your mother demands and he holds back a laugh when he sees you look up at the sky, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath to control yourself. 

He wonders if you two get along. 

You look over at Jeongguk, taking a few steps closer and whisper, “I’ll meet you outside of the front gate. Give me twenty minutes please.” Jeongguk’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise but his lips quirk up into a smirk. You bow to him and say, “Thank you for helping me with the umbrella, Jeongguk-ssi.” Your voice is a little loud so your mother can hear. 

Jeongguk bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing before he gives you a small bow as well, “Of course, Ms. Kim,” He emphasizes your name and you narrow your eyes at him before quickly walking away. 

He tries not to turn his head to watch you walk away, knowing that Mrs. Kim is staring. Instead he walks towards the gate to leave so he doesn’t have to feel her eyes on him anymore. Jeongguk isn’t bothered if the woman doesn’t like him, it’s not like he’s going to work here for very long. 

Stepping out of the gate, he walks down to his beat up truck that’s parked down the street. There’s excitement swirling in his stomach at the thought of going out with you. He doesn’t know what to expect out of this but he’s about to find out. Maybe he’ll see that this nice personality of yours is just a facade and he’ll see your true colors.

Who knows? 

If so, he would feel disappointed for some reason. 

+

“Y/N, what was that?” Your mother asks you as soon as you walk in. 

You feign innocence, “What was what?” 

“Why were you speaking to him?” She presses, sliding her sunglasses into her hair. 

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I told you why. He was literally just helping me.” You don’t understand why she’s being like this. She never cares about who you talk to. Somehow your interaction with Jeongguk is bothersome for her. 

She stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if to figure out if you’re telling the truth. Few seconds later, she lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “That boy looks like bad news. I was just concerned that he was making you uncomfortable.” 

“He wasn’t,” You quickly defend. Not once has Jeongguk done anything to make you feel uncomfortable. This is your first time interacting one on one. Sure you feel his eyes on you from time to time when you’re by the pool but you like that. You’ve purposely been sitting there, hoping to catch his attention. You would pick the cutest swimsuits just for that reason. 

You would pout, feeling defeated every time he would leave without saying anything to you. Maybe he’s just not interested in you like that but your interaction with his friends says otherwise. You were determined to find out. 

For him to invite you out to the bar had you feeling giddy and full of excitement. He doesn’t seem like he has any ill intentions. He honestly might just feel sorry for you because of how lame your life is. You’re not sure. But you want to explore more. You want to get to know him more because he’s lit this spark of curiosity in you that just wouldn’t go away. 

“Okay,” Your mother gives you a tight lipped smile but she doesn’t look convinced. She changes the subject, “I was going to head out to the Kangs house for lunch. Their daughter just came back from Europe and I thought you would want to go.” 

The Kang’s daughter? As in Kang Sohee? You would never willingly hang out with her. Not after this one time you went to their house when you were just a teenager and found her snorting cocaine off her bathroom counter. Immediately panicking, she begged you not to tell her parents. That was your first and last time ever going to Kang’s house. 

So no, you don’t want to go. 

“Actually, I’m going out with some friends,” You lie. You wouldn’t consider Jeongguk a friend, not even an acquaintance. You barely know him but who knows, maybe that could change after today. 

Your mother casts you a look of surprise. Do you really look that much of a loner to everyone? 

“Oh,” she responds, “Do I know them?” She wonders. 

You shake your head no, you would never tell her who it is. Considering the way she acted earlier when she caught you speaking with Jeongguk, you know she would be unhappy if she found out you’re going to a bar with him. 

“No, you don’t. I met them in America. They’re visiting here,” You explain and she nods, seeming to believe your words. 

“Okay then,” Your mother looks a little speechless, “Have fun I guess.” 

Shoulders relaxing, a shiver of excitement runs through your body when you turn around and go upstairs to your room to change. Before you can go up the second step, your mother calls for you, causing you to pause in your tracks and look at her questioningly. 

“Y/N sweetheart, just be careful around that boy,” Your stomach drops when you realize she’s referring to Jeongguk and you think it’s because she might’ve figured you out. “He doesn’t look like a good influence. Let him do his job and leave.” You relax, realizing she just meant from what happened earlier. 

You don’t say anything other than, “Okay.” Before going upstairs. You’re a grown adult. You can make decisions for yourself. You’d be damned if you let her words stop you from getting ready to go. 

You rush into your walk-in closet to find some clothes. After a few minutes of searching through the racks, you go with a tight black off the shoulder top and pair it with high waisted loose jeans. To top it off, you wear a pair of chunky black heeled ankle boots on your feet. You don’t have time for doing a full face of makeup so you just put on some mascara and eyeliner. Smacking your strawberry flavored lip gloss against your lips, you run your hand through your hair that cascades down your back before grabbing the same Chanel purse you had on yesterday. 

Rushing down the steps, you head out the front door, looking around to make sure you’re not leaving at the same time as your mother. You bow to the doorman at the gate, greeting him before he opens it and lets you out. Eyes wandering around your surroundings, your head snaps towards the sound of a car honking and you look to see a tattooed hand waving out of the window. 

Your shoulders relax and you look behind you one last time before walking towards a black pick up truck. You open the door, greeting Jeongguk with a small smile and close it shut. 

“Hi,” You greet shyly, tugging on the seatbelt. 

Jeongguk looks amused, pierced lip curled up into a smirk, “Hey.” He then adds, “Sorry I didn’t get out to open the door for you. Chivalry is really dead, you know.” 

You laugh at his honesty before saying, “It’s fine, I’m sick of people opening the door for me anyways.” You turn to look at him and swallow at how good he looks. 

He must’ve changed in his car while waiting for you because now he’s wearing a black baggy shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. There’s a silver chain around his neck and his hair looks wavy as it curtains on each side of his face. One tattooed hand is resting on top of the steering wheel while the other is holding the gear stick. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” He comments and you roll your eyes, cheeks heating up. 

Way to be fucking obvious.

“Whatever,” You respond, sitting back in the seat. You look around, eyes observing the car

“Yeah, it’s a pretty shitty car I know,” Jeongguk says as he pulls the car into drive. 

You quickly look at him and shake your head, “No, it’s cute.” You shrug and he snorts, “I love the little key chain.” You reach up to play with the little anime keychain hanging from the rearview mirror. 

“Cute huh?” Jeongguk muses and you just nod. 

“Smells nice in here,” You remark. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sensitive to smell. I’ve got like four car fresheners,” He tells you and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Four car fresheners?” You ask, judgment clear in your tone and Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak again. 

“You try sitting in your own sweat after a long day of work. It stinks.” He defends before adding the next in a much quieter tone, “And I like the smell of flowers.” He mumbles, making you giggle. 

“I don’t judge,” You respond and it's quiet for a few moments. 

“Your mom certainly does,” He utters, clicking his tongue before looking at you, “Too soon?” 

You shake your head, “No, it’s fine. She can be quite judgemental about people who aren’t…” You hesitate to finish the sentence but Jeongguk does it for you. 

“Rich,” He states and you nod guilty. “It’s fine. I get it. I wasn’t really surprised if I’m being honest.” 

“Really?” You stare at his side profile, taking in the slope of his nose and his sharp jawline. The silver barbell that runs through his dark eyebrows. God, he’s so fine. 

Jeongguk just shrugs, glancing at you before he makes a turn, “I mean yeah. I guess it’s kind of something I expected of rich people.” 

Your lips pull down into a small frown at his words, sullen from the thought that he may see you as judgmental. You don’t consider yourself judgmental. Or least, you try not to judge. And you definitely hate the whole rich people only talking to other rich people thing. That’s probably one of the many reasons why you aren’t friends with other people that your family knows. They always think they’re above everyone else. 

You gather the courage to ask, “Is that what you think I am?” You wonder before adding, “And be honest.”

The car stops at a red light and he turns over to look at you, an unreadable glint in his eyes and his lips tug into a small grin, “You might not be so bad.” You relax at his words, the tension leaving your body. For some reason you just didn’t want him to view you as those arrogant rich people. He then adds, “Or you can just be fooling me right now and you could be crazier than you look?” 

Your jaw drops in offense and you smack his shoulder, “What do you mean crazier than I look?” 

Jeongguk cackles, throwing his head back and you gulp at the sight of the veins in his neck. “I’m kidding.” He says. 

You scoff, crossing your arms to pretend to look annoyed. “I’m sure you were.” 

“I aaaaam,” He drags, tugging at your elbow and you try not to smile. 

In contrast from earlier when the silence was awkward by the pool, it seems to be more comfortable now that you’re talking and joking around. You can’t stop thinking about the smile Jeongguk had when he laughed. His bunny teeth displayed and his eyes crinkling. It had to be your favorite look on him and it makes you happy that you were the cause of it. 

“So where is this bar?” You question, staring out the window as you drive through the city. 

“It’s a bar in Itaewon,” He answers, making another turn at a light. “My friends and I go there all the time.” He tells you before adding, “You know, when we’re not broke and finally get our paychecks.” 

You chuckle at the last bit because of how casually he says it and then you ask, “The friends I saw yesterday?” 

“Mhm,” He confirms. 

When your mind wanders to the events that took place yesterday, you remember how all of his friends were good looking. You recall the conversations you had but the main thing that brings a small smile to your face is when you realize how they knew your name. 

“So,” You start and hear Jeongguk mumble under his breath ‘Oh god’ because you think he knows where this is going, “You talk about me to your friends huh?” 

Jeongguk groans, looking as if he was dreading this conversation, “Look, I saw you walk into the coffee shop, recognized it was you and told them who you are.” He says and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. He notices and clicks his tongue, “I’m serious, that’s what happened.” 

“Right,” You say slowly, “Whatever you say.” Voice in a sing-a-song tone. You knew there had to be more to it but he wasn’t going to tell you it seems. 

“Please, I’m sure you gushed about me being hot to your friends,” He says 

“I told you I don’t have any friends– wait! Ah hah!” You raise your finger at him accusingly. “So you told them I was hot.” You feel a sense of pride at that, internally gushing over the fact that he finds you attractive.

“What–No I,” He tries to come up with something but at this point, there’s really no saving. He lets out a defeated sigh, “Yeah yeah, I might’ve mentioned that. So what?” He tries to be nonchalant about it. 

Your lips pressed together to suppress a smile and you turn your head the other way so you’re looking out the window again, “Nothing.” Gathering up the courage you then mutter quietly, “I found you attractive too.” Your cheeks feel warm and you refuse to look at him. 

Beside you, Jeongguk has a small smile on his face as he looks at the road ahead after hearing you utter the last part shyly. 

+

The sound of glasses clinking and chatter fill your ears as you walk into the bar with Jeongguk. The interior design was dark and sleek, booths against one side of the wall and a row of tables pressed up against the other. The lights are a little dim but it fits with the vibes. The smell of bar food fills your nostrils, causing your mouth to salivate. There’s not many people right now but you can imagine how busy it’ll get later. There’s a bunch of men playing pool, laughing while sipping on their drinks. 

You’re oblivious to the lingering eyes of other males on you until Jeongguk points it out, making your eyes widen in surprise. Curiously, you look around only to meet the eyes of a man who’s starring you up and down before he gives you a wink. Your face scrunches up in distaste and you roll your eyes before looking away. You feel the warmth radiating off Jeongguk's body which is pressed close to your side, his hand hovering over your lower back but not fully touching it. Almost as if he’s hesitant to touch you. 

“You really don’t realize the effect you have huh?” He chuckles, pulling out the stool for you to sit on. 

“I thought you said chivalry is dead,” You joke, sitting down on the stool before patting the one next to you. 

“Listen, I’m not that much of an asshole,” He remarks, sitting beside you and you just giggle in response. 

“Hey Jeongguk, what’s up man?” A tall man behind the bar greets, bumping his fist with the boy sitting next to you. He’s got tattoos as well though, not as much as Jeongguk but a few scattered on his arm and peaking out of his chest beneath his t-shirt. He’s got a handsome face as well. 

Jesus, are all of his friends good looking?

“Yugyeom, hey,” Jeongguk greets. 

“You guys on a date?” Yugyeom asks, wiggling his eyebrows before looking at you. “Hi, I’m Yugyeom, nice to meet you.” 

You give a smile before introducing yourself as well, “Y/N.” Yugyeom bumps his fist with Jeongguk again, with a look you don’t seem to understand and you don’t think Jeongguk will explain to you either based on the sheepish expression on his face. 

“So what can I get you guys to drink?” The bartender asks, hands pressed against the counter. 

Jeongguk looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to respond. You shrug, “What kind of wine do you have?” 

“Wine?” Jeongguk snorts, making you pout out of embarrassment. 

“Leave me alone,” You whine, “I’m not much of a drinker.” 

Jeongguk chuckles, shaking his head before turning to look at Yugyeom, “She’ll have a cranberry vodka and I’ll have the usual.” 

Yugyeom nods, “You got it.” He turns around to begin making the drinks. 

“I can’t believe you wanted wine,” Judgement in his tone but you can tell he was joking. 

“That’s the only alcohol I really drink,” You defend, eating some of the complimentary nuts in front of you. 

Jeongguk puffs out a laugh, “The wine you drink probably costs more than what my car is worth.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you just munch on the cashews. You notice how Jeongguk doesn’t grab those specifically, probably noticing that you like those the most from the way you kept eating them. You can’t help but smile at that, chest fluttering. 

“Alright,” Yugyeom comes back, “Rum coke for you,” He hands the glass to Jeongguk, “And cranberry vodka for the pretty lady.” He gives you a charming grin when he hands it to you. 

“Thank you,” You tell him and he just bows at you before walking away to another customer on the other side. You bring the glass up to your lips, feeling Jeongguk’s eyes on you when you take a sip. You smack your lips together, trying to decipher the taste. He’s looking at you curiously, small smile on his lips. 

“What?” You ask him, wondering why he’s staring. 

“How is it?” He asks. 

You shrug, taking another sip and then say, “It just tastes like cranberry juice.” 

“Here,” He slides his glass over to you, “Wanna try some of mine?” You nod in response, picking up the glass to take a small sip. 

The taste is refreshing of the ice cold coke but you can feel that hint of bitterness from the rum hitting the back of your throat. 

“Mm,” You hum. “It’s good. Refreshing, I like it.” You tell him truthfully. “Try some of mine,” You push your drink towards him. 

“I’ve had this before,” He says but picks up the glass to take a sip anyways. You watch him when he does, eyes falling to his throat where his Adam's apple moves when he swallows the beverage. “I mean it’s good I guess.” He tells you before commenting, “It tastes like juice.” He reiterates with a shrug and you laugh in response. 

“I told you!” You exclaim, taking another sip of his coke before handing it back to him but before you can, he shakes his head. 

“Yeah honestly my hyung knows more about alcohol than me.” He tells you with a grimace before adding, “You can have that one,” you look at him questioningly but he just waves it off. “You like it, drink it.” 

The butterflies in your stomach are intense, your heart swooning at his action. He’s just making you feel more and more interested in him. You did not expect him to be so thoughtful. Maybe it isn’t a big deal to him but for you, it’s such a kind gesture. 

“Thank you,” You say, drinking again and he just nods in response. 

“So how did you end up working as a gardener?” You wonder. 

Jeongguk seems to choke on his drink a little, causing you to jump in surprise and look at him in concern. He clears his throat, setting the glass down onto the coaster.

“I uh…you don’t know?” He asks and you glance at him in question, shaking your head before bringing the glass up to your lips again. “Well… I hit your dad’s car.” He tells you and this time, you’re almost choking on your drink. Jeongguk holds out a napkin so you can wipe your chin. 

“You what?” Your eyes are wide, mouth open and you look at him as if he’s joking. 

He’s not.

He clicks his tongue, “Yeah… but listen, it wasn’t that bad. I just kind of tapped the back of his car but….yeah I couldn’t get away with it.” He shakes his head as if disappointed at that and it makes you laugh. 

“Well at least you guys were okay,” You say pointedly and he nods in agreement. 

“Your dad’s a real cheap ass you know that,” He says bluntly and you snort at that. “No but really, he is. Because he could’ve just let me go, you know. But no, he had to get my contact information. He knew I was broke by the looks of it so instead of paying him back directly, he told me I can work off my debt.” He explains, not caring one bit that it’s your father he’s talking about. You’re not offended in the slightest, looking at him in amusement which prods him to say, “What?” 

You shake your head, pressing your lips so you don’t laugh, “Nothing. You’re just very honest.” You tell him. 

His eyebrows raise in surprise, hand playing with the straw of his drink and he asks, “Is that…bad?” 

“No,” You smile. “Not at all. It’s refreshing honestly.” It’s true. Half the time people talk to you, you can tell it was a facade sometimes which would be quite frustrating for you. They’d be afraid to say anything that would offend you, not wanting to be on your bad side. 

But Jeongguk, he didn’t care. He was honest. You liked that a lot. 

“That’s good,” He tugs at the piercing in his lip thoughtfully, “My hyung tells me I can be a real dickhead sometimes.” 

“I wouldn’t disagree with that,” You mutter jokingly, causing him to look at you with narrowed eyes, tongue poking into his cheek. 

“Gee, thanks.” His voice is monotone when he says it and you snicker. 

“Now I have a question for you,” He says and you look at him, wondering what it could be.

“Sure, what is it?” You ask. 

He purses his lips together in wonderment before asking, “How did Dohyun know you the first day we met? He talked to you as if you guys have been friends for a while.” His tone says that he was genuinely curious. 

You suck in the air through clenched teeth and shake your head, “I wouldn’t say we’re really friends…maybe acquaintances? I’m not sure. I might sound like a bitch for saying that.” Jeongguk shakes his head as if saying no, encouraging you to continue, “His grandpa used to be the gardener for our house. He’d always come with him when he was a little boy,” You explain to him, thinking back to the times when you were just twelve years old. 

Sometimes he’d come up to you when you were playing on the swing set and he’d hand you a single flower which you would take from him out of politeness. He looked so excited whenever you took it out of his hands and said thank you, almost as if it was the greatest achievement he ever made. 

Other than flowers, he’d bring you single pieces of candy and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you hated orange flavored candies. You would secretly give it to your younger brother everytime. 

“And he’s been working there ever since?” Jeongguk asks and you nod in response. 

“Yeah…pretty much. He was pretty upset when I had to leave for America,” You don’t know why you tell him that. 

“Yeah?” He sounds amused, “The boy is quite literally whipped for you.” He tells you and you just shrug in response. 

“Oh I already know,” You tell him and this time he looks at you with wide eyes, sipping on his drink as if this is the most interesting thing he’s heard. “It’s been like that since we were kids. I think he wanted to tell me before I left but I had to go so…he said he would tell me when I would come back.” 

“Hm,” He hums, tongue pressing against his teeth as if pondering, “Well you’re back. Has he told you yet?” 

You let out a relieved sigh, “No not yet. I’m afraid when he does tho. I don’t know if I have it in me to see the look of heartbreak on his face. He’s always smiling.” You tell him, feeling him look at you. 

“He’d definitely be heartbroken, I can tell you that,” Jeongguk says before adding with a snort, “Could’ve sworn he was about to pop a boner when he saw you by the pool the first time I was with him.” 

You look at him in disgust and he just cackles loudly, throwing his head back when he does, making you smile again. You just love when he laughs like that. 

You purse your lips before asking, “How about you?” 

Jeongguk looks confused, looking at you quizzically, “What about me?” 

“Did you pop a boner when you saw me?” You joke but there was some underlying seriousness to it. 

Jeongguk scoffs, looking down at the table, “As if I’d ever tell you that.” 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” You grin, about to take a sip of the coke but he grips the hand holding the cup before you can take the sip. 

“Didn’t your parents teach you any manners? Gimme back my drink,” He commands, trying to take the glass away from you but you tighten your grip on the glass as he tries to pull it away from you but instead, tugs you along with it. You squeal, shuffling forward and instantly gripping his strong thigh when you feel yourself leaning back as if you were about to fall and he quickly wraps his left arm around your back to prevent it from happening. 

Your faces are closer in proximity now, eyes staring at one another. There’s a certain glint in Jeongguk’s eyes when you look at them and you can’t help but fixate on his rose colored lips that have the silver piercing. You wonder what it would feel like against your own lips if you were to just lean forward and kiss them. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, teeth biting into your lower lip when you notice him glance down at your lips as well. Before anything can happen, you feel a finger poke your stomach, causing you to immediately recoil. 

You look down to see Jeongguk’s pointed finger that did the action, surprised that you didn’t seem to notice it move away from behind your back. You also failed to notice him take the glass right out of your hands when he poked you, causing you to whine. 

“Asshole!” You exclaim, attempting to get it back but he just turns his body away from you to take a sip, his left arm held in front of you as if to block you.

Jeongguk says after taking a sip, “I’m not the one asking people if they pop boners.” You roll your eyes at that, giving up and crossing your arms. 

“I’m just kidding, here,” He holds out the glass for you and you lift your hand to take it but he pulls it back again to tease you, “Say please.” His voice is stern. 

Instead you respond monotonously, “You’re a dick.” 

Jeongguk sucks the air through his teeth and says, “You seem to be quite fond of my dick.” He jokes and you smack his shoulder, snatching the glass back so you can drink the rest of it. 

For the rest of the night, you guys talk and laugh about random things while munching on the bar food Yugyeom gives you guys on the house. Jeongguk would make you giggle when he makes commentary on the men who were playing pool, making fun of how badly one of guys were playing and it was the same guy who had winked at you earlier. Once it was reaching 8 o’clock and the bar was in full swing, that’s when the two of you decided to leave. 

This time when you were leaving the bar, his arm was wrapped around your back protectively as he guided you out of the place, fending off the lewd looks coming from the other men. Once you were outside and were walking towards his parked truck, you pause in your tracks, making him stop and gaze at you curiously. 

“Wait,” Your eyebrows are furrowed, “Are you okay to drive?” You ask, realizing that you both just drank alcohol and that he still has to drive back. 

Jeongguk breathes out a laugh, looking at you in amusement, “What do you take me for? A light weight?” You just raise your brow at him in response and he lets out a sigh, “I’m fine. It was just one drink. I wouldn’t be driving you back home if I knew I couldn’t.” His voice sounds truthful when he tells you this and for some reason, your heart stutters at that. 

“Okay,” your shoulders relax and you nod, believing him. 

Jeongguk releases his lower lip from his teeth and says, “If you’re still uncomfortable, I can call you a cab.” He offers and you just shake your head. 

“No it’s okay,” You say before adding, “I trust you.” 

He stares at you for a moment, eyes flicking around your face as if to see if you were telling the truth before he nods, “Alright, come on.” 

The car ride back to your house was quiet for the most part. You’d say a few things here and there and Jeongguk would respond but there wasn’t more to it. The silence isn’t awkward however. Rather, it’s pleasant, a new wave of comfortableness between the two of you.

You had a really fun time tonight, you think. Probably the most in a while. You don’t think you can remember the last time you’ve laughed as much as you did tonight and it brings a smile to your face when you think about all the funny moments and jokes the two of you shared. 

Jeongguk has ignited this fire inside of you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt. He’s funny, handsome, honest and thoughtful. For a guy you only literally just started talking to, you can already feel yourself starting to like him a lot more than you anticipated. At first you just found him to be attractive and thought he’d simply be a nice eye candy when you’d sit by the pool. However, after talking to him tonight, you found yourself wanting to get to know him more. He talked to you like you were any other person, not seeming to give a damn about who you are. 

You don’t realize you’re smiling until you hear Jeongguk clear his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts and you notice how the car is now stopped and parked in front of the large gate outside of your house. 

“Well, this was fun,” His tone is a little awkward when he says it, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. 

You nod in agreement, grinning, “Yeah it was. I had a really good time.” 

His lips quirk up into a small smile at that and he says, “That’s good. I’m glad.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, the both of you unsure what to say. You break it first, “I guess I should go then.” He nods in response, clicking the unlock button of the doors.

You open the door, hesitating to get out. You’re about to step out but pause for a second, turning to look at him only to find him already looking at you. He looks curious when you stare at him and asks, “What?” 

Here goes nothing. 

You scoot over in the passenger seat, leaning over the console to peck the corner of his mouth before pulling back and stepping out of the car, “Goodnight. See you tomorrow!” You speak fastly, swiftly shutting the door before rushing towards the gate.Your cheeks are warm and he probably saw how red they are. He just stares at you wide eyed, almost in disbelief at what just happened.

You press your lips together, keeping yourself from smiling before waving at him one last time. You hope it wasn’t weird for him. If you read this entirely wrong the whole time, you don’t know how you would face him tomorrow. 

You had no idea that Jeongguk was still sitting outside in his truck, a smile playing on his lips at what just happened. 

+

Jeongguk couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday night. The way you would  throw your head back and laugh, hand covering your mouth. He kept making jokes and waggish commentary about how ridiculous other people in the bar look. He noticed that you were definitely a light weight. You weren't drunk but you were a little tipsy. 

You became a little more touchy, shoving him or smacking his shoulder at times when he’d tease you. At one point, your hand was on his thigh absentmindedly and he’d begun to get nervous when it fell dangerously close to his crotch. It wasn’t intentional. You were clueless to how close your hand was, too busy rambling to an old man about the tricks of blackjack. 

Did he mention that you’re more socializing after drinking alcohol? 

Jeongguk found himself having a good time with you, enjoying your bubbly and talkative personality. You were more open and comfortable around him so it was gratifying to see this side of you. You didn’t have some nice act persona that you were putting up. 

It’s what happened at the very end of your time together that had him stunned. When you kissed him on the corner of his mouth and gave him the prettiest smile he’s ever seen on you. Your cheeks were flushed a pink and you looked proud of yourself from the glimpse he caught your face before you rushed out of his truck. 

It brought an automatic smile to his face, hand touching the part where you kissed him. How soft your lips felt on top of his skin. The scent of strawberry coming from your lip gloss that lingered. It’s not like Jeongguk hasn’t been kissed before. He has. But this felt different. This kiss came from you. He can feel himself having an actual crush on you. Not just physically wanting you but emotionally. He can feel something there. He was willing to explore it with you. Take it further. 

Is he thinking too far ahead? 

Sue him, this might just be his first real crush in so long. He knows there’s still so much to learn about you but after last night, he thinks he gets the idea. He just wants to see where it goes.

All he knows is that he likes being around you a lot. 

A small smile is playing on his lips as he cuts the unnecessary weeds out of one of the bushes and he doesn't realize it until Dohyun comes up to him and points it out. 

“Hey hyung! What’s got you all happy?” The boy asks in bafflement, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile since you’ve started working here.” 

Jeongguk’s smile immediately drops, mouth pulled into a straight line. He’s not telling this guy why he’s happy. Considering Dohyun has the biggest crush on you, he has no idea how he’d react. Not that he’d trust Dohyun regardless of if he has a crush on you or not. Jeongguk assumes no one around the house is allowed to know about you and him hanging out and maybe he just prefers to keep it that way. 

He feels a bit bad for the guy if he’s being honest. Dohyun’s been crushing on you since guys were just kids meanwhile Jeongguk just met you. However, you’ve made it clear that you do not see Dohyun in that way at all. 

If you really like Jeongguk, he’d be an idiot to pass that up. 

“Nothing man,” Jeongguk responds, turning to look at Dohyun only for his eyes to widen at the sight he sees before him. 

Dohyun no longer has the long hair that gets into his face. His hair is now cropped short on the sides and trimmed at the top. Gone are those thick rimmed glasses that’s constantly pushing up the bridge of his nose. But that’s not what takes Jeongguk by surprise the most, it’s the black slacks and white button down that he has on that makes the older wonder what he’s up to. There’s a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a box of what looks like chocolates in the other. 

Oh God, is he about to do what he thinks he is?

“Uh hey…” Jeongguk starts, dropping the plant snips onto the floor, “What’s with the whole…” He gestures his hand towards Dohyun’s get up. 

The younger man grins, cheeks tinting a little pink, “I’m about to ask Y/N out on a date.” 

Well fuck. 

+

WARNING: this is the second part of this fic. Please read part 1 here.

It’s around midnight when the front door opens. Startled, you pull from your reverie and lower your paintbrush.

The canvas is darker than before. Colors and feelings entwine, creating a contrast against the light background. Exhaling, you sit back on the stool to examine. Pride fills your lungs despite the half-finished state. It’s good, but not great and that’s okay.

Only a few days prior, you would have been too scared to start. Afraid of the worst, you couldn’t release the barest hint of magic. You feared that, once begun, it would be hard to pull back. Now, you consider the opposite. Maybe by containing yourself, you exacerbated the problem.

A throat clears from the hallway, a mirror to a prior memory.

Whirling around, you nearly knock over the canvas. Seokjin’s eyes widen, though you steady the painting fast. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice Seokjin seems tired. Heavy shadows line the skin beneath his eyes.

“Painting again?” he muses.

Slowly, you nod. “Starting to.”

Pushing himself off the door, Seokjin comes closer. “I like it,” he declares. “You’ve always been great, but this… this feels more honest.”

Following his gaze, you attempt to see the work from his perspective. You suppose that he’s right, but don’t have time to dissect why that would be.

“What’s up?” you ask, turning back again. “You were out late.”

Seokjin pauses, considering. “Yeah. Decided to answer a call myself. Laundromat over on 8th – you know it?”

Immediately, you stiffen. That was your laundromat from earlier; the one you flooded and now, you’re entirely too conscious of having left your hamper at the front door.

Seokjin lifts an eyebrow.

Last year, his parents retired, bequeathing to him a magical consulting business. He employs mainly Elementals, contracting them to clean up situations. Sometimes said situations are caused by Elementals and other times, they’re natural. For example, a fire Elemental could be called to heat a building without power in a snowstorm.

Or possibly, one might request an air Elemental to dry out a flood.

“I know that place,” you say at last. “What happened?”

“Couple of pipes burst. Flooded the lower level. Most of the water had drained by the time I got there, but they needed help drying equipment.”

You deflate a little. “Oh. Glad you could help.”

“Mhm.” Seokjin tilts his head. “Your ex-boyfriend was there.”

“Oh?” you manage to squeak.

“Yup.” He pops the p. “Until I saw him, I assumed it was an accident. But then your ex-boyfriend was there, and I came here and saw your laundry by our door. Is there something you wanted to tell me, Y/N?”

“Ugh,” you groan, covering your face with both hands. “Fine, yes – it was me. I had to use a different laundromat, but then Jungkook showed up and we fought and I just – lost control. I was going to fix this,” you insist, lowering your hands. “As soon as I could figure out how, but then there were sirens and I –”

“Whoa, Y/N – whoa.” Crossing the room, Seokjin grabs a chair to sit backwards. “I’m not blaming you, to be clear. Everyone loses control of their powers occasionally. Hell, if I had a nickel for every person I wind-shoved into a door.”

You blink. “That’s uh, oddly specific.”

“And true.” His smile is rueful. “Listen. I want to know if you did it because I want to make sure you’re alright. No other reason.”

Some of your tension drains. “Oh. That’s… nice of you.”

He looks at you strangely. “That’s what friends do, Y/N. They help each other. What, did you think I’d turn you in or something?”

Your lack of response must be obvious since Seokjin goes unnaturally quiet. Having it said out loud sounds silly but yes, that’s exactly what your mom raised you to think. Wreaking havoc of any kind – but especially magical – would always have consequences.

“Look.” Seokjin’s tone softens. “I know it’s scary. Our powers are strong and if we don’t control them, they tend to control us. But pretending magic doesn’t exist doesn’t make it disappear. It just means when things do happen, it’s unpredictable.”

“I don’t want this,” you sigh, the words spilling out. “I don’t want to always be scared, always terrified of losing control. I don’t want to hurt other people or push them away. Everything would be better if I were just normal.”

“Would it?” Seokjin muses. “In everything you just said, you never said you didn’t want magic.”

This leaves you silent since Seokjin is right.

In all your concern about hurting other people and wishing you weren’t afraid you’ve never once resented your magic itself. Sure, you want to be normal but normal for you means living without fear. Not living without magic.

“I… guess you’re right,” you murmur. “I hadn’t thought about that before.”

Seokjin nods. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for you, growing up. It’s hard for non-Elementals to understand our powers. Especially when you’re a kid.”

“It was,” you admit, glancing down.

Even now, admitting this feels like a betrayal because your mom tried her best. But maybe sometimes, trying your best isn’t the same as being what you need. While the intentions were good, the damage continues to live with you to this day.

“Suppressing a piece of yourself is never the answer,” Seokjin adds.

Your jaw tightens. “That’s easy for you to say,” you say, looking up. “You have two wonderful parents who support you. Your magic comes to you second nature. You rarely seem bothered by anything, let alone by your power.”

Lowly, Seokjin laughs. Dark hair falls into his face, leaning forward. “In control?” he scoffs. “Y/N. Just because I’m easy-going doesn’t mean everything is all good in here,” he says, tapping the side of his head. “I’m bothered by a lot of things, and magic is never easy.”

“Oh, yeah?” you shoot back. “When’s the last time you lost control, then?”

“Last month,” he says, automatic. “I drove to my parents’ place, got stuck in traffic and someone rear-ended me. I was so mad I summoned wind and slammed them into the next lane of traffic. Luckily, they weren’t hurt. Badly.”

You stare at him, open-mouthed.

“There was also this time last year,” Seokjin adds, undeterred. “I had a shit day, went to a bar after work. I was drinking alone, and one guy was harassing every woman in the place. He wouldn’t leave this one person alone, and I snapped. Blew a door open into his face. Guy needed five stitches.”

“I… I didn’t know all that.”

“I don’t usually tell people.” Seokjin sits back, slightly amused. “Personal flaws are terrible conversation starters. Those weren’t even the most embarrassing,” he warns. “The first time I had sex, I came so hard I made a mini tornado in the house. It woke up her entire family, who kicked me out with no pants.”

You try – and fail – to keep your lips from twitching. “Seokjin, that’s… awful.”

He laughs. “I got better at controlling it, alright? Just like you will. The threat is always there though,” he warns, his smile diminishing. “It’s like how, when you’re mad, sometimes you feel this undeniable need to punch someone. Occasionally, the urge wins, and you do punch someone. Magic is just another instinct, like that.”

“An instinct,” you murmur, turning this over in your mind.

Your magic has always reacted to your strongest emotions. Times when you felt angry or sad or – your cheeks heat – ecstatic with joy. Like with Jungkook.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit softly. “I broke up with Jungkook, but that was a mistake. I love him. I want to be with him. But…”

“But you’re scared that you’ll hurt him.”

“Yeah.” You hesitate. “And I’m scared I’ll be hurt by him, if that makes sense.”

Seokjin nods. “It does. In college…” He pauses, as though debating whether to say the next part. “When I was in college, I had a girlfriend who didn’t know what I was. It was after the whole virginity-loss incident, and I was stubbornly pretending not to have magic.”

Your eyes widen. You didn’t know Seokjin went through a similar phase to you but then again, you suppose you don’t know much about him as an Elemental. Purposefully, you never wanted to open that door in case it led back to you.

“Pretending only works for so long, though.” His lips twist. “When I finally told her, she was scared. But… she promised me she loved me, and that we’d get through it.”

“What happened?”

“She started pulling away. Said she was busy studying and one night, I caught her making out with a friend. In some ways, it was a relief. But… I get what you mean.” Seokjin exhales. “Some people don’t want to understand, and you can’t make them.”

“I don’t think Jungkook is like that.”

“I don’t either.” Seokjin pauses. “He waited a long time at the laundromat, you know. He was there when I arrived, and he seemed… I don’t know. I asked all the standard questions, and when I asked if there was an Elemental, Jungkook was adamant there wasn’t. To the point where it seemed weird. Are you sure he doesn’t know what you are, Y/N?”

“I… don’t think so,” you say, your eyes wide. “Not unless he found out somehow. And if so, I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me.”

Seokjin clucks his tongue. “I guess he could say the same about you.” Smiling slightly, he pushes himself to stand. “Anyways, I wanted to let you know what happened and say I’m here if you need anything.”

Nodding, you prepare to brush this off as usual when something gives you pause.

Before, denial would have been your go-to. Avoiding responsibility and telling yourself that next time, you’d do better. Next time, you’d be stronger, but ultimately, nothing would change. Maybe it’s time to admit that it doesn't work. To acknowledge that if you really want change, you must take the first step.

The problem with ignoring emotions is they don’t disappear. All they do is hide, biding their time until you’re at your weakest to pounce. You’re so tired of living with fear.

Tired of pushing others away and calling it selfless. Most of all, you’re tired of living without Jungkook.

“I’d like that,” you admit. “If you have any resources to recommend…?”

Seokjin stares at you, stunned. “God, yes,” he says, shaking his head. “Wow – I never thought this day would come. Okay, so, first things first, we need to get you in class. Other Elementals learn to control their magic. They’ll help with coping mechanisms, teach you to release your energy and channel emotions. Oh!” He straightens. “And you should really find a therapist who specializes in magic. I can give the name of mine, but that might be a conflict.”

“Whoa – whoa,” you laugh, holding up both hands. “All of this sounds good, but maybe one step at a time?”

“Noted.” Seokjin turns to leave. “Let’s talk more tomorrow. Whatever you need, Y/N – that’s what friends are for.”

Warmth fills your chest, and you manage a nod. That hasn’t necessarily been your experience but slowly, you’re beginning to trust what he says. What Jungkook said in the past, asking you to trust him.

Cleaning your brushes, you cover the half-finished art and follow Seokjin into the hall. Before long, you’re in your own bed, staring up at your ceiling. It’s difficult to sleep, multiple realizations from the day coursing through your mind.

Tonight, Seokjin provided more love than you ever had growing up. Well – he provided greater understanding. Although your mom loves you, her love turned to fear instead of the help you craved. Important, because you now understand how deeply your magic is ingrained.

It’s something you spent a long time ignoring. And though you know your mom loves you, she doesn’t love your magic – which means she doesn’t love all of you. This realization hurts more than you’d care to admit.

Turning into your pillow, you bury your face as the tears come. Sadness radiates from the same place inside you where there once was a dam. Uncertain, you reach out and brush this with your consciousness. After a moment of hesitation, you absorb it. The pain becomes part of you; not in a bad way, but in a way that’s new and unnerving.

Lifting your head, you tentatively reach out and gather the tears. They form a sphere in mid-air, crystalline and pure. Wide-eyed, you remember your father doing the same. Whenever you would cry, he’d save your tears in case you wanted them later. Facing and learning to use your emotion is important, he often said.

This memory urges the tears to fall harder, turning back to your pillow. When you finally drift into sleep, it feels as though a weight has been lifted from your chest. For once, you don’t feel divided against yourself. For once, you fall asleep without fear of what tomorrow might bring.

Saturday morning, you wake up earlier than normal. Groping for your phone on the bedside table, you blearily open a chat to Jungkook’s name. His last text was on Sunday and, after rereading this several times, you wearily lower your phone. Tossing aside your covers, you pad into your bathroom and brush your teeth.

Some things can’t be fixed overnight. You need to think before reapproaching Jungkook, to consider what to say so he’ll understand. Or maybe he won’t. The thought of this very real possibility makes your heart twist, though you ignore it the best you can to get dressed.

After breakfast, you bring your dishes to the sink and stare at the faucet. Before, you would have avoided anything to do with magic, but now…

With a deep breath, you reach inward and extend a tendril of magic. The water responds, slowly at first and then, all at once. The dishes begin washing themselves, lifting a sponge to get themselves soapy.

Seokjin wanders out of his room, bleary-eyed. Walking right past you, he plods to the coffee pot and grabs a new filter.

“If you break more of my dishes, you should just get me a new set,” he mumbles.

Grin widening, you finish the dishes and put them away by hand. It’s intoxicating to use magic and have nothing bad happen. You almost forgot what that felt like. A small step, but to you, it was once insurmountable. Knowing this grants the courage to make other decisions.

Dressing quickly for the day, you walk out of your bedroom. “Did I tell you I went into an art store on Thursday?” you ask Seokjin, seated at the kitchen table.

He yawns. “That’s nice.”

“They wanted me to teach an art class.”

Abruptly, he sets down his mug. “Wait, seriously?” Seokjin’s eyes widen. “You should do that!”

“I plan to. Well.” You hesitate. “I wasn’t going to, but now I am. I think I’ll head there this morning.”

Seokjin nods, although something uncertain drifts across his face. Toying with the edge of his mug, he seems to be thinking. Waiting for whatever comes next, you rummage through your purse for your phone.

At last, he exhales. “That’s good. But…”

“But?”

“I just… don’t want you to be discouraged if this takes a while, Y/N. Changing your entire outlook on magic won’t be easy.”

Your fingers pause, and slowly, you close your bag. “What do you mean?”

“I mean progress isn’t always linear.” Seokjin’s frown deepens. “You’re going to backslide. That’s kind of inevitable. Even the most talented Elemental has times when they slip. If – or should I say when – that happens, I don’t want you giving up.”

Seokjin’s utter sincerity lessens the sting of his words. You can see the truth in this logic, even if it scares you. Part of you continues to wish for a magic solution.

 “Thanks,” you respond. “I appreciate that, Seokjin.”

“Anytime.” He lifts his mug. “Now, go get that job so you can pay rent.”

“I knew you weren’t that generous,” you call as you leave the apartment.

Seokjin’s laughter is cut off by the elevator doors. Your walk to the train station is short, as is the train ride. Creative Courage is in the opposite direction of Jungkook’s apartment, but close enough that you can still smell the harbor as you walk.

Ascending the steps of the subway, it’s hard not to recall the first time you met Jungkook.

Three months ago, it was a muddled spring day. The type of day when the weather can’t make up its mind and a tank top or sweater might be equally needed. For once, the rain wasn’t your fault and you stood on the train platform, drenched at having been caught without an umbrella.

Jungkook stood on the opposite platform, parallel lines of train tracks between you. You were mostly alone – a situation which would typically put you on edge, but that day, it meant you noticed Jungkook sooner.

He stood near the edge, closer than you ever would. Giant, over-ear headphones rested over his head, which bobbed absent-mindedly to the beat. You had noticed him before that, nearly as soon as he cleared the turnstile.

Jungkook wore his hair longer then, pulled into a bun at the base of his head. His hands were chapped; he blew on them intermittently before stuffing them in his pockets. Cheeks red with cold, he glanced up and his gaze snagged upon yours.

Later, he said it felt as though the world stopped. You could corroborate. There was something about his gaze, intense and sincere, that robbed you of rational thought. A train roared between you, shaking the platforms and your stomach dropped.

By the time the train left, you assumed Jungkook would board, and the moment would end. Relegated to nothing more than a shared look between strangers. A what-if, not a has-been.

But then the train pulled away, and Jungkook remained. Lips parted, you stared while he jerked a single thumb over one shoulder. Eyes bright, Jungkook cupped both hands over his mouth.

“Want to get coffee?” he yelled across the tracks.

Uncertain who he was talking to, you glanced around and found the place empty. When you turned around, both eyebrows were raised. Already, you weren’t a spontaneous person and by now, you usually would have said no, but –

“Yes!” you called out. “Meet at the entrance?”

Jungkook nodded, his grin widening – if possible – as he spun around. You watched him sprint for the exit, taking the escalator two steps at a time. Ducking your head, you followed a similar route on your side of the tracks.

Riding the escalator, insecurities reared their ugly heads. What if you were mistaken about his intentions, what if you dropped something, or what if he wasn’t attractive as you remembered – but then, all this faded as he came into view.

The hour was dusk, with one or two street lamps penetrating the darkness. Jungkook emerged from his escalator, lit from behind, and some of your worries quieted. When he waved, slightly awkward, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite the multiple piercings, he somehow looked soft. He was also ridiculously, insanely beautiful and your hands itched to paint him.

Exiting the subway this morning, you attempt to refocus. It’ll do you no good to reminisce about Jungkook before Creative Courage. First, you get a job. Then, you learn to control your magic. Then you can beg for Jungkook’s forgiveness.

Maybe with some wiggle room in that order. Heading towards the art shop, you fish your phone from your pocket and scroll to his name. Stopping abruptly, you stare at Jungkook’s thread, bold with an unread text.

Your fingers hover a moment before pressing open.

Jungkook: I think you left one of your shirts at the laundromat. It was on the floor, I found it after you left [11:09 AM]

Clutching your phone tightly, you reread the message. Jungkook has a piece of your clothes. He has a piece of your clothes and is reaching out. Trying not to read too much into this, you text back.

Y/N: Oh, no! Thanks for grabbing. Can I stop by sometime to pick it up? [11:15 AM]

Y/N: I heard you ran into Seokjin at the laundromat [11:09 AM]

Wincing a little, you lower your phone. Your last text may be ill-advised, but you don’t want Jungkook to think that you’re hiding things.

Jungkook’s ellipses appear, then disappear several times before his next message.

Jungkook: yeah, he came in to fix things. Seemed to think an Elemental was involved [11:18 AM]

Frozen, you stare. Seokjin did say he asked Jungkook about there being an Elemental, but Jungkook had been adamant in his response to Seokjin. Did Jungkook… lie?

Skin prickling, you type your response. Not giving yourself time to second-guess, you press send and immediately head down the sidewalk.

Y/N: If an Elemental was involved, I guess Seokjin would be the person to call [11:22 AM]

Y/N: I’m on my way to a potential new job (do you know the art store, Creative Courage?) but I’m free later – I could stop by for the shirt? [11:22 AM]

Heading away from the harbor, you try to clear your head. Creative Courage is only a few blocks from the subway and once again, the bell tinkles when you step inside. This time, you aren’t surprised when Taryn pops out from behind the front counter.

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “It’s you! Y/N, right?”

“That’s right.” You smile, side-stepping the door so as to not block the entrance. “Hi. I um, just wanted to stop by and see… well, I wanted to know if your offer still stands? To teach, that is.”

Beaming, Taryn claps both hands before her. “Oh my gosh, yes. I told Micah you’d be back! They were all like, ‘don’t get your hopes up,’ but I was like, ‘they’re already sky-high.’ And here you are!”

Your smile grows while she speaks, certain you made the right decision. Taryn looks nervous, which somehow serves to put you at ease.

“Anyways, come on in!” She steps aside, sweeping an arm over the room. “There aren’t any classes until the afternoon, so we can check out the space together. Maybe set up time for a demo. Oh, don’t worry,” she adds, noticing your look. “I know you’re amazing. This would be more about your teaching style. Understand the process, that type of thing.”

You nod. “I get it. That makes total sense.”

“Cool.” Taryn beams. “I’m just so excited.”

Showing you around, the two of you fall into easy conversation. Although you don’t have teaching experience, Taryn doesn’t seem worried. Everyone has a different learning style, she says. Students need free thinking instructors as much as structured.

At some point, Micah stops by to drop a kiss to her cheek. “Hey,” they say, noticing you for the first time. “I’m Micah. It’s nice to meet you – Y/N, right?”

Reaching out, you shake their hand. “Yes, that’s me.”

When you pull back, you blink at the streaks of dark grime on your skin.

“Micah!” Taryn gasps, noticing at the same time. “How many times have I said to use the special soap when you’re working with fire?”

Micah grimaces and turns. “I’m so sorry,” they say, wiping both hands on their apron. “Sometimes I get carried away in the workshop.”

“It’s totally fine.” You hesitate a moment before barreling on. “But I’m sorry – did I hear right? You were working with fire?”

Nodding, Micah drops their hands. They’re taller than both you and Taryn, with lithe muscles, short hair and a Power Puff t-shirt. They aren’t exactly what you pictured for a fire Elemental.

“Yeah,” they confirm. “I’m a fire Elemental. I use it a lot in my art – charcoal, and whatnot. Recently I’ve been getting into metal sculpture work.”

“Oh,” you say on an exhale. “That’s amazing. I’m a water Elemental, which explains all the watercolors.”

Micah’s eyes light up but before they can respond, Taryn lays a hand on their arm.

“Wash your hands first,” she insists and Micah laughs. Shaking their head, they leave, and Taryn turns to face you. “I didn’t know you were also an Elemental, Y/N! That’s so great. Maybe you and Micah can brainstorm a class someday. You know, an outlet for Elemental artists. How to use your magic creatively, or something.”

You stare, recognizing the genius in this and wondering why such a thing never occurred to you before. Magic has been second nature in art for so long – you never imagined it might be the same for others. Teaching Elementals to create with something they might fear fills you with a sense of hope.

You stay for a long time, chatting with both until Micah leaves to lead the afternoon class. Taryn eventually says goodbye as well, promising to be in touch to arrange your schedule. By the time you step outside, it’s close to dinner and you’re feeling better than you have in months. Good enough that, when your phone rings, you almost answer on reflex. Pulling from your pocket, you glance at the name and freeze.

Mom.

Feet rooted to the ground, you stare at her name and your happiness dims. Seokjin’s words come back, warning about a backslide. Less than twenty-four hours have passed since embracing your magic. You hoped for longer before confronting your mom.

Standing on the sidewalk, you deliberate long enough for the call to end. Slowly, you resume walking down the road. Without fully realizing why, you find yourself heading towards the harbor.

When your phone rings a second time, it somehow sounds urgent.

Mom.

Exhaling, you stop and press answer. “Hi, mom.”

“Y/N,” she breathes, her relief audible, and you’re suddenly saddled by guilt in addition to fear. “Thank goodness. I was about to call your roommate if you didn’t answer. Can’t be too careful these days, can you?”

You briefly close your eyes. “His name is Seokjin, mom. We talked about this.”

“Right, yes – of course. Seokjin. So, Y/N…” Her pause is weighted. “How are things?”

Resuming your course, the harbor comes into view. “They’ve been better, to be honest. I didn’t tell you everything earlier this week, mom. More happened than just losing my job.”

“Oh? What else happened? Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I – well, no,” you admit, correcting yourself. “I’m not okay. Jungkook and I broke up.”

Her silence is deafening, long enough that the sun slips behind a cloud, the water before you turning a blue-grey color.

“Oh, honey.” At last, she exhales. “I’m so sorry.”

Another pause follows, and your teeth grit while you wait for the ‘but.’ With your mom, there’s always a ‘but.’

“But… maybe it’s for the best?” she tentatively offers. “You remember your last break-up, don’t you? With that Elliot fellow. It was horrible and your magic, well – that’s not happening again, is it?”

Her voice is full of alarm, tightening your grip on your phone. The tingling in your chest spreads outward, waves in the harbor rising in tandem. One of them sloshes, haphazardly, over the pier.

“What are you asking me, mom?” you ask.

“Well, you remember how you… well, how your magic… after you broke up with Elliot, things didn’t go well. Did they, Y/N?”

“No, they didn’t, because I wasn’t well, mom.”

“Yes, of course, sweetheart. It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not, though,” you say, each word pouring from a place long ignored. Squeezing your eyes shut, you finally release. “Do you know how much it hurt growing up when something bad happened and rather than be sad for me, you only cared about magic? If I’d lost control. If someone else was hurt. I was hurt, mom, and you never seemed to notice.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “Of course, I noticed. Of course, I care that you’re hurt, Y/N. I just didn’t want things to get worse. That’s all.”

“Worse,” you say with a bitter laugh. “Mom. I broke up with my boyfriend and your response was that it was probably for the best. Do you want me to be alone?” you add, voicing aloud your worst fear. “It would be safer if I were, right?”

“Don’t twist my words, Y/N. Obviously, I want you to find someone and be happy. You have to admit though, you don’t have the best track record when it comes to romance!”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” she asks, sounding annoyed. “If you asked me whether I’d like you safe and alone or with someone and hurt – obviously, I’d rather you were safe. If that makes me a bad mom, then so be it!”

Turning away, you shake your head. “I don’t think that makes you a bad mom. I’m just trying to understand what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking my daughter called to attack me out of nowhere! Everything I did when you were a child was to keep you safe. Those floods,” she adds, putting two and two together. “The ones in the city this week – they were you, weren’t they?”

“Yes, mom,” you snap, eyes flying open. “The floods were me. I broke up with Jungkook because I couldn’t control my magic and ironically enough, it only made me spiral further. I was so scared of hurting him, I ended things and hurt us both. You didn’t even ask why we ended, mom.”

“Where are you now, Y/N?” she demands.

Glancing around, wind whips your hair and storm clouds gather. You realize it was probably a bad idea to have this conversation so close to a large body of water.

“Near the harbor. I was leaving a job interview when you called. Oh,” you add, an aside. “I got a new job as an art teacher.”

“The harbor?” Your mom bypasses everything else. “That’s dangerous, Y/N – are there people around? You shouldn’t be talking about your magic in front of them. They could assume the wrong thing.”

“What, mom? That I’m an Elemental? Because I am one.”

“Y/N!”

“It’s the truth!” you blurt, a wave crashing over the pier. “I am an Elemental and I do have magic. You can’t keep pretending otherwise!”

“I know that, Y/N, but your magic doesn’t have to define you!”

“It kind of does.” Voice breaking, you take in the roiling sea. “It does define me. I’m an Elemental. I have magic, and I can’t change that fact. Pretending to be someone I’m not hasn’t worked.”

“I don’t want you to be someone you’re not, Y/N. I just want you to be safe.”

“You can’t protect me from everything.”

“No, I can’t.” Your mom’s next words are rushed. “Do you know how much that kills me? I couldn’t save your dad, and now, I can’t save you. No matter what I do, the world doesn’t care about who you are, only what you can do. I hid so much from you back then,” she adds. “Maybe that was wrong of me. Maybe you should have known about the casual threats from our neighbors. Teachers who wondered if you’d be better off home-schooled. People I thought were our friends ignoring you in public. You don’t remember what it was like, Y/N.”

The first raindrops on your face. “I’m sorry you went through that, mom. Really, I am.”

“I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, honey.”

“That’s not what I think.”

Even as you say this though, a knife twists in your chest. It’s a moment you could move past and reconcile. You could hang up, knowing you had a difficult conversation with your mom, and it ended happily.

Or you could tell her the rest. Or you could lay it all on the line and for once, not care that it might cause complicated feelings.

Overheard, the clouds darken. In the harbor, boats creak against lines holding them to the pier. You should try and control your magic but stubbornly, you don’t want to. You’ve spent so long repressing and pretending; once the dam breaks, it can’t be repaired as easily.

“I don’t think that,” you slowly admit. “But mom… I also don’t think you know who I am. My magic is a part of me. Being an Elemental is part of me. For so long, I’ve been afraid of part of myself and a lot of that came from you. Other people made it worse, but it started with you.”

Shocked silence follows. While you wait for a response, you cringe from the phone. Nausea swirls in your stomach, threatening to swallow you like ocean waves.

“I… that’s not fair,” your mom whispers at last. “That’s not fair at all, Y/N.”

Jaw tight, you look at the shore. “I didn’t say it was fair, I said that’s how I feel. What would dad say if he was here? He loved his magic. He always said to use magic for good, but I don’t know how to use it at all without hurting people! I don’t even know myself. That’s not what he would have wanted.”

“Who can know what he’d want?” your mom demands. “Your father is dead, Y/N. He’s gone, he can’t come back, and I raised you the best I could without him. Your entire life, I’ve tried to keep you safe, and I can’t believe you blame me for that.”

Reeling backwards, you stare at the waves. “Kept me safe at what cost, though? I have no idea how to use my magic, mom. I live in constant fear of hurting someone. Each day, I walk a razor’s edge and fall into bed, exhausted. How is that keeping me safe?”

Waves smash against the pier, higher than you’d like. Taking a step backwards, you avoid the water and turn inward. Everything inside you is churning – your anger, your guilt, the sudden injustice of all your mom’s words. Although you try and calm yourself, it only serves to add fuel to the fire.

“Don’t do that, Y/N,” your mom says.

“Do what?” you snap. “Tell the truth?”

“Don’t pretend I’m the villain,” she counters. “Are you even in control right now?”

Your anger surges, along with the waves. “Of course, not!” you blurt. “No, mom, I’m not in control. Seokjin recommended classes, but I haven’t had the chance to take them. I –”

“You should not be going to class for magic. It’s too dangerous!”

Mid-sentence, you realize something you should have known from the start. Your mom isn’t ready to have this conversation. No matter how cathartic it would be for you, she’s not going to be ready to hear this right now.

“I have to go, mom,” you say, choking a little. “Call me when you’re ready to talk.”

“Y/N. Don’t you dare hang up on me!”

“Bye, mom,” you whisper, and press end.

The phone rests in your hand, your entire body taut as you resist the sudden urge to throw it in the ocean. In this half-movement, you spot the horizon and shudder to a halt. Thunder booms up above, the waves roiling erratically with each lifted heartbeat.

Seokjin warned you this couldn’t be solved in an instant. You’re so used to suppressing your magic, you have no idea how to turn it off once it starts. Your laundromat realization feels ages away, your magic a force bigger and more powerful than you are.

Water swiftly withdraws from the pier, and you sigh in relief, only to realize it’s gathering. Going utterly still, you stare in horror at the building wave. Your panic rises, fueling your power further as you raise trembling hands.

Struggling, you cast your thoughts outward in a wide net. Your father never mentioned this, though. He never explained how to divert a large wave, probably thinking there was plenty of time. You were only five when he died. Hopeless, you watch as the wave crests and wonder if this is how you end. Morbid, you wonder if you can die from drowning.

When the wave hits, wood crunches from the pier underneath you. Yelping, you’re drenched head-to-toe in water as it retreats to form a bigger wave.

Shaking, you lift both hands again. You try to remember what Seokjin told you – clear your mind, focus, envision the outcome you want –

Other words overlap with his; yours, your mom’s, the news.

This won’t work. You can’t do this. Someone will see. Magic is dangerous.

Swiftly, the wave approaches and your dread only grows. Fear overtakes, and–

“Y/N, MOVE!”

Footsteps pound the pier as you spin around. The next seconds seem to occur in slow-motion. Jungkook sprints past you, gaze determined and jaw set. Eyes wide, you stare as he skids to a stop, clenching his fists.

Jungkook faces the ocean, wind whipping his hair. Your wave looms, several feet high – until a jagged line of rock bursts from the sea. The two of them connect, water and earth meeting with an ear-splitting boom. Water sprays over the top of the rocks, but nothing more happens.

A beat passes, or two while you stare at the harbor in shock. Earth… just burst from the ocean, saving the city from your rogue wave.

Memories rise to the surface, one by one. The fact that Jungkook lives near a train stop that often shakes his building. When the barista in your coffee shop dropped the tea kettle, Jungkook looked nearly as stricken as you did – as though it was his fault. When Jungkook freed you from the laundromat, opening a door that shouldn’t have opened.

Each of the pieces falls into place, forming a truth that knocks the wind from your lungs.

“You…” Eyes wide, you stare. “You’re a…”

Emotion churns in Jungkook’s gaze, turning to face you. “Yeah,” he admits. “I’m an earth Elemental. I’ve… been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

Head spinning, you shake your head and the world tilts beneath you. At first, it’s a metaphor, swiftly made real by the events of today. Briefly, your vision blurs as your knees start to buckle.

“Whoa,” Jungkook blurts, rushing forward. His arms wrap around you, keeping you upright. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“I…” Dazed, you glance at the ocean. “That was you, just now? With the rock?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook winces. “Sorry about the dramatics. I was trying to act fast, and it’s all I could think of. Didn’t want to cause an earthquake and create a second wave.”

He sounds slightly nervous, and you continue to stare. Genuinely, you don’t mean to be rude but you’re having trouble stringing two words together. Jungkook is an Elemental. Jungkook is an earth Elemental.

Jungkook’s smile fades, spurring you to speech.

“That’s not what I was thinking,” you blurt.

His brow furrows. “Oh. What are you thinking, then?”

“I…” You shake your head. “I was thinking that was really… hot. And you know, a general sense of relief that my out-of-control magic didn’t wreck the entire city. Oh, right,” you add, somewhat glum. “Seems like you already know, but I’m a water Elemental.”

“I know,” Jungkook murmurs.

He hasn’t released you yet, continuing to hold you. The waves in the harbor have returned to normal, although a slight mist continues to fall from the sky.

“Well, I wasn’t sure,” Jungkook corrects. “I started suspecting at the laundromat. Then I got your text and was in the area, so I decided to stop by. Glad I did,” he adds, his lips twitching. “I followed the storm to the harbor.”

“I confronted my mom,” you mutter. “She doesn’t have magic.”

Jungkook’s expression sobers. Although you haven’t told him everything, he knows the two of you have a tense relationship. Jungkook also knows your dad died when you were young. Possibly, he’s put two and two together by now.

“I see.” Jungkook pauses. “How are you feeling?”

Four small words and again, something inside you crumbles. You weren’t aware you had more to give. Collapsing into him, you rest your head on his chest. Holding onto you tightly, Jungkook soothes his hand up and down your back.

“That’s not an answer,” he murmurs, but the words are gentle. “Talk to me, Y/N. Do you want to go somewhere?”

Probably a good idea but right now the only place you want to be is with him. Shaking your head, you tighten your grip on his t-shirt.

“I probably should,” you admit. “Jungkook… you and I…”

His body stiffens. “Yes?”

Slowly, you lift your head. His gaze is dark, wary and it pierces deep in your chest.

“I feel awful,” you say. “It’s… been a long time since I told someone what I was. I was scared of hurting others. Scared of hurting you. That’s why I ended this. It had nothing to do with you, Jungkook,” you insist, the words pouring out. “I swear. I was so scared of hurting you with my magic – and I hurt you anyway. I am so sorry.”

Jungkook’s expression is inscrutable. “It had a little to do with me,” he says slowly.

“No.” You pause. “Well, maybe. I wouldn’t have been this scared with someone else. The way I feel about you, Jungkook? I’ve never felt like this before. It’s all new to me, and I couldn’t control my magic around you.”

His gaze remains steady. “How do I make you feel?”

“You make me feel… everything,” you whisper. “Hopeful and happy and scared and alive and I – I can’t control myself around you. When we touch, I…”

You bite your lip, embarrassed and one of his brows sketches upward.

“When we touch, you what?” Jungkook pushes.

You can’t seem to meet his gaze. “I… forget myself. I burst the pipes in the laundromat,” you admit. “I caused a storm the night we fought. When I ended things between us, it rained for three days. I can feel the water in every pipe in your apartment, every faucet and I was so scared of hurting you.”

Drawing you closer, Jungkook gathers you tightly. “Hey,” he murmurs. “It’s okay – you didn’t hurt me. I’m here. Tougher than you give me credit for,” he adds with a chuckle.

Leaning into him, you allow your eyes to shut. His heartbeat mirrors yours, a fact you find soothing. Reality sinks in a second later, realizing the truth of this week.

Jungkook doesn’t just understand what youare – he is one, himself.

Eyes flying open, you pull back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were an Elemental?” you demand.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you tell me? I tried to explain a few times,” he adds, his brow furrowing. “I brought up Elementals, but you would always change the subject. I was scared to tell you. I thought… maybe you’d leave. I didn’t want you to.”

A small fissure mends in your heart. “My entire life, I was told magic was something to fear. Something to hide. I was taught to hide and only recently, have I started thinking otherwise. I… want you to know me, Jungkook.”

“I want to know you, too.”

“I want to learn how to use my magic,” you add, determined. “Seokjin is going to help.”

The divot between his brows deepens. “I want to help.”

It’s such a Jungkook response, you can’t help but grin. “You can,” you agree, squeezing his waist. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”

His expression softens. While you watch though, his thoughts seem to deepen, gaze flicking over the panes of your face.

“What does this mean?” Jungkook asks at last.

His grip on you doesn’t loosen, and you hear his unspoken question. Heart sinking, you realize you may have overstepped. Jungkook is touching you. He came here to help. Both of you know what the other is and you’ve apologized – but you haven’t asked for him back, and he hasn’t accepted.

Before, you might have allowed these negative thoughts to drown out the rest. To wonder if maybe Jungkook is only helping from guilt. Now, you shove those thoughts aside and force yourself to be strong. To ask for what you want, even if the answer is no.

“I was wrong, Jungkook,” you say quietly. “I ended this because I didn’t want you to get hurt, but you did anyway. I hurt myself in the process. I… I thought you couldn’t possibly love this part of me, so I ran away. That wasn’t fair,” you add, gaining momentum. “You deserve to know who I am and decide what you want for yourself. Jungkook, I love you. I want you. I am so sorry I hurt you, and I just want to know if you could ever –”

“Yes.”

You falter, blinking upward. “There was more to the speech.”

His lips twitch. “It was a very good speech. You can give the rest later. Right now, I want you to know my answer is yes. Yes, I love you. Yes, I want you. Yes, I forgive you.”

“But Jungkook” – it’s difficult to concentrate with his arms wrapped around you, nose lightly brushing the shell of your ear – “I broke up with you. Don’t you want me to –”

With a weary sigh, he pulls back. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, amused.

“I don’t know.” You frantically search. “Shouldn’t I promise not to run away again? To be more honest with you, more communicative?”

Jungkook waits, as though expecting more and when nothing comes of it, he shrugs. “I thought all that was a given. Don’t uh, run away, okay? Are we good?”

“Jungkook,” you laugh, though this becomes a groan when his lips brush your neck. Gripping the back of his hair, you pull his head upward.

Jungkook’s eyes gleam, his skin flushed. “You should work on your punishment, if that’s what you were trying to do,” he murmurs.

Ignoring the shiver these words bring, you shake your head. “Jungkook… um, the last time we were close, I…”

He tilts his head. “Yes?”

His voice is nothing but patience, and you draw a breath. “I’m scared,” you admit. “I know I’ve said it a lot, but I can’t seem to control my magic around you. Especially when we touch. That’s when things get…” Aimless, you shrug. “You know.”

Lips pressed tightly together, Jungkook lifts a brow. “What about this?” he teases, cupping your waist with one palm. “Is that alright?”

Your eyes roll. “Yes, Jungkook.”

“And this?”

Thumb slipping beneath your shirt, he traces the damp skin above your panties. Your entire lower body clenches, your limbs going molten.

“That’s… harder,” you admit.

He grins. “I know.”

“Oh, shut up,” you groan, half-heartedly attempting to pull away.

Jungkook laughs, catching you easily and laying your head on his shoulder. You stay there for a while, his hand cupping the back of your neck as his thumb strokes up and down. Eventually, the clouds part enough for the sun to peek through.

Throat clearing, Jungkook pulls back to see you. “To be clear – that doesn’t matter to me. We can go slow. We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. I’ll help in any way that I can, Y/N. I just want you.”

“I do want to try, though,” you insist. “I do. It’s just…” You hesitate. “Your apartment is so breakable.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment. “I shouldn’t find that as hot as I do.”

“Jungkook!”

He laughs, taking your hand in his. “Sorry, sorry.” Turning on his heel, he heads from the pier. “I do have any idea, though. One that could help.”

Hand in his, you follow him inland. Jungkook leads you down a steep path towards the boathouse, ducking the gate towards the parking lot. It’s late enough that his car is alone, headlights blinking as he unlocks the doors.

You trail behind, happy to do so because honestly, the sight of Jungkook in a soaked t-shirt is akin to a Regency hero. You savor the sight, grinning like crazy. Always, you used to question the good things that happened because it seemed they could fade any second. Now, you find yourself determined to live and enjoy.

The ease with which Jungkook forgives makes his trust precious. Someone like Jungkook deserves someone honest, the type of person you aspire to be. Climbing into the passenger seat, you continue to admire Jungkook as he walks to the opposite side.

He slides into the driver’s seat, adjusting the seat and buckling his belt. Fixing the rearview mirror, he glances at you.

“What?” he asks, doing a double take.

“Nothing.” Smiling to yourself, you shake your head. “Where are we going?”

Mischief enters his gaze. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Cool. We’re going somewhere to solve our problem.”

Shaking your head, you settle back as he pulls from the parking lot. Glancing around the car, a sudden thought occurs to you, and your smile widens.

Noticing this, Jungkook hums. “What are you smiling about, now?”

“I thought you said you were in the area?”

“Yep.”

“Hm.” Smiling broadly, you twist to face him. “Seems odd you would bring your car if you were just ‘in the area,’” you say, using air quotes around the last words.

Jungkook flushes beet-read. Your ex-slash-current boyfriend is many things, but a good liar isn’t one of them.

“I – fine,” he admits on a groan. “I was hoping to see you and didn’t want you to leave before I got to the art shop. My car was fastest.”

Your grin widens. “Cute.”

“We’ll see who’s calling who cute later,” Jungkook mutters.

His words send a thrill down your spine. “Speaking of later…”

Reaching a stoplight, his head turns. “Yes?”

You wait a long beat. “Where are we going?”

Surprised, Jungkook laughs and faces forward when the light turns. “Does the art of the surprise mean nothing to you?” he teases.

“No! Surprises are mean. They’re for the surpriser more than the surprised.”

“Exactly.” Nodding, he merges onto the main highway. “Consider this your punishment for breaking up with me.”

“Hey! You said we were even.”

Jungkook smirks. “That’s not what I said. I said I forgive you. I never said we were even.”

“Oh? And just what might ‘getting even’ entail?”

His grip on the wheel tightens, voice pitching lower. “I have a few ideas.”

Lips parted, an entire city block passes before you assemble your thoughts in a coherent manner. “Well,” you exhale. “I hope these ideas involve us leaving the city. Preferably getting away from the ocean, as well.”

“Oh, they do. My family owns a cabin an hour north. We stayed there a lot when I was younger, especially once my magic started. There aren’t many people around – which is good, in case I slip and cause a seismic event.”

You stare at him over the console. “A… seismic event?”

Jungkook drops a wink. “What? You thought only water Elementals have cool powers?”

“Well, no, but–”

“I’ll show you,” he laughs. After a few seconds, Jungkook clears his throat. “So… what does your magic look like?”

“Sorry?”

“You know.” He glances your way and, upon seeing your confusion, backtracks. “Sorry. I forgot that not everyone… well. What I meant was, when you use your magic, what does it feel like? How does it… manifest?”

“Hm.” You consider. “It’s like… a small kernel of heat in my chest. Whenever I feel strongly, the kernel brightens – with joy, anger, sadness. The brighter it gets, the more aware I am of the water around me. You know, in the pipes, in the ground. Even you,” you add, a bit stilted. “In your blood.”

“Whoa.” Jungkook’s eyes widen. “That’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“Hot,” he amends, and now, you’re the one burning. “That’s…” He stops, then chuckles. “Damn, Y/N.”

Pushing aside that tantalizing thought, you sit back. You’ve never had the urge to show someone your magic but now, find yourself wanting to try. And learn more. Ultimately, this urge wins out.

“What does it feel like for you?” you ask, curious.

Jungkook frowns. “Magic is… a hum in the back of my mind, I guess. A hum, or a vibration. My emotions also affect it,” he adds, glancing your way. “Eventually, the hum spreads and I get what you mean about heightened awareness. For me, it feels like gravity shifts. I become more grounded. When I want the earth to do something, it just… listens.”

“Oh,” you say.

He glances at you, unsure. “What?”

“Nothing. That’s… unbelievably hot.”

A pleased smile spreads over his face. Sitting back, Jungkook’s hands tighten on the wheel and suddenly, the cabin seems a long way away.

“How long is the drive?” you pose.

“About forty-five minutes.”

“Huh.” You fidget a little.

“Why?”

Feeling his gaze on the side of your face, you shrug. “I have ideas for tonight, too.”

There’s a moment of silence before the car accelerates. Surprised, you laugh and grip the door handle. “Jungkook!” you scold, glancing sideways.

He blinks, the picture of innocence. “What? It seemed like you wanted me to go faster.”

“Sure, but preferably all in one piece.”

“You will. Trust me.”

And that’s the thing – you do. Trust him, that is.

Smiling slightly, you relax in your seat and lower the window. Skyscrapers have long since passed, turning to buildings, which became towns and fields. Eventually, the motion of the car lulls you to sleep. It’s been a long week of restless nights.

You wake when the car hits a bump, and you jerk suddenly upright. The sun casts long shadows over the dirt road you drive on.

“Sorry.” Jungkook winces. “This part can be rough. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Yawning, you stretch both arms overhead. “No, you’re fine. Are we close?”

Nodding, he keeps one hand on the wheel. Jungkook’s elbow is propped on his open window, a breeze ruffling hair from his face. Music plays, softly in the background.

“Five minutes.”

You nod and look around. Anticipation sketches over your skin, and you suppress a shiver. Knee bouncing along to the song on the radio, you reach a heightened state of awareness about tonight. Jungkook has never felt quite so tangible, or maybe you’ve never been so perceptive.

Turning down the next road, the car’s headlights bounce over trees and a mailbox before landing on a small, white house. Jungkook parks in the driveway as the sun slips towards the horizon.

Not opening the door, Jungkook drums his fingers against the wheel. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he turns to face you.

“Now that we’re here, it feels kind of presumptuous,” he admits in a rush.

Having imagined the worst, you can’t stop your smile. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you push open the door. “Let’s go,” you declare, feet hitting the ground. “I’ve been waiting for months, Jungkook!”

His chuckle follows, the car turning off as you shut the door. Footsteps follow you up the front path, Jungkook catching you around the waist near the rhododendrons.

“And whose fault is that?” he growls, nipping the curve of your ear.

“Excuse me,” you say, breathless, “that I didn’t want to drown your bedroom.”

“Baby.” His ensuing laughter is soft. “The only way I want you in my bedroom is soaking wet.”

With that, he reaches beyond you and unlocks the front door. Ignoring your speechlessness, Jungkook steps around you and enters the house.

“You coming?” he calls, flipping on lights.

You stare after for a moment before you come to your senses. Muttering darkly, you slip off your shoes and shut the front door behind you. The hallway ends in a kitchen, cheerfully lit while Jungkook rummages through a cabinet.

“Tell me,” he says, standing to shut the door. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh…” Your face heats. “Well, I kind of thought…”

“Can’t have sex on an empty stomach.” Dropping a wink, Jungkook turns around to open another cupboard.

With a half-hearted eye roll, you sit on a stool and glance around. The kitchen cabinets are dark green with bronze handles. You would ask Jungkook if he helped, but his interior design skills leave something to be desired. Just because a person is creative one way doesn’t mean it automatically translates.

Vividly, you recall entering his apartment and being thoroughly confused by the multiple mattresses. Patiently, Jungkook explained they were for his dog, Bam – as though that made any difference.

Remembering this, you sit upright. “Hang on – where’s Bam?”

“Left him with Jimin,” Jungkook says, setting down a cutting board. “I sent him a voice note while you were sleeping.”

“Oh,” you say, sinking back on the stool. “That’s good.”

Nodding, Jungkook resumes preparing the meal. Propping your chin on one hand, you take in the small but well-loved home around you. Traces of Jungkook are everywhere in a road map of his life. Photos of Jungkook as a child are tacked to the refrigerator, his eyes a similar size but in a much smaller head. There’s one of him with his dad on the playground, another at graduation with his mom.

Your gaze lingers on one that looks like the yard of this house. A giant boulder fills the frame, while Jungkook sits, cross-legged, at the top. He can’t be older than ten, scowling furiously while his mom yells something upward. In the foreground, his dad takes the picture in selfie mode, giving a giant thumbs-up with a maniacal grin.

“That’s the first time I used my powers,” Jungkook says, catching you looking.

Half-guilty, you start but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Instead, he smiles. “I was something of a late bloomer. My parents were concerned, although they wouldn’t say it. One day, I was out playing, and my mom called me in for dinner.  I didn’t want to leave. Next thing I knew, I’d made a small cliff in the yard. My mom was furious,” he recalls with a laugh. “My dad was ecstatic. Keep going on and on about how I’d been ‘saving up.’ Anyways, they enrolled me in camp the next summer.”

“Camp?”

“To help with my magic,” says Jungkook, nodding at another photo. This one has Jungkook with his arms around three kids near his age. “Both my parents are Elementals – my mom, fire and my dad, earth. One of their friends runs a summer camp for Elementals. I went as soon as I could.”

“Oh,” you breathe, not having realized such things existed. Maybe you would’ve gone if your dad had lived longer. Or maybe you wouldn’t have – he was an only child without much family, which explained why you felt isolated after his death.

Sensing the change in emotion, Jungkook abandons his cooking. “My dad was adopted,” he admits, coming around the counter. “He didn’t even know he was an Elemental until he turned twelve. When his adoptive parents realized, they told him to hide it and my dad did for a long time. It wasn’t until meeting my mom that he started relearning.”

You aren’t sure how to respond, your throat suddenly tight.

Luckily, Jungkook doesn’t expect an answer. “Not that your situations are the same,” he hastens. “I don’t want to make comparisons, but I wanted to say it because… well, I wanted to let you know you’re not alone. You can learn now. I’ll help however I can.”

Warmth expands in your chest, replacing the sadness. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that,” you whisper.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “I don’t think it’s about deserving help – although of course, you do. Things don’t just happen because someone deserves them. You didn’t deserve for your dad to die when he did. We both don’t deserve to live in a world that forces us to hide. None of that’s deserved, so why should you question when good things are good?”

“That’s exactly it, though,” you admit. “So many bad things have happened that were connected to my magic. Like earlier today – I finally confronted my mom, and I nearly drowned the city.”

He shakes his head, stubborn. “That’ll take time. Time and practice, but you will get there. I don’t have any doubts about that, Y/N. You don’t have to be scared of magic – it’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.”

You stare at each other and, oddly, you feel some of his strength. It would be impossible for so many people to have faith in you for no reason. If anything, it’s more foolish to continually assume you’ll fail.

After another long moment, Jungkook tears his gaze away. “Food,” he declares with a firm shake of his head. “Food first, then… other stuff.”

Laughing softly, you lean back. Jungkook chats while he cooks, explaining how his dad thoroughly proofed the house against several types of Elemental. His mom is a fire Elemental and his dad is earth, but they have several members of the extended family who are water.

“Essentially” – Jungkook chops vegetables – “this place could survive a 7-magnitude earthquake, followed by a fire and a flash flood. There are sprinklers in every room with drains in all corners. Furniture is water resistant and non-synthetic. Basically, go wild. No one will care.”

Your brows arch. “You might care if I burst another pipe in the ceiling. In my experience, that tends to ruin the mood.”

Lowly, he laughs and turns on the burner. “Fair enough,” Jungkook says. “If you don’t feel comfortable inside, we can start outside. I don’t mind a little rain if you don’t.”

Unthinkingly, your gaze lowers to where his t-shirt continues to stick to his skin. Obscene how good Jungkook looks in damp clothing.

As though sensing your thoughts, he smirks and flips the food in the pan.

“Okay,” you blurt. “Let’s try that.”

Eventually, you need to take a first step and now seems as good a time as any. Somewhere, somehow, you need to begin. Deep down, you know your fear is holding you back. You’re petrified of losing control, and every time you use your magic, the fear wins, creating new fear in an endless cycle.

By the time Jungkook slides a bowl of noodles towards you, your stomach is growling. Jungkook was right about needing to eat. The last traces of the day disappear while you slurp your noodles, catching each other up on your lost week. As it turns out, Jungkook was equally moody, causing minor trembles whenever he left his apartment.

You describe to him your week, voice trembling when you reach the phone call with your mom. Reaching across the counter, Jungkook grasps your hand tightly.

“It’s okay,” he says. “We don’t have to talk about that right now, if you don’t want.”

Thankful, you nod, and he retreats with your bowls. Bringing these to the sink, he loads the dishwasher and shuts the door with his hip.

“I do want to talk eventually,” you say, hesitant. “Just… not now. It’s too raw.”

“I get it.” He walks around the counter, stopping before you. “It’s hard to think about our parents as real people who also fuck up. Sometimes they do so in ways we can’t forgive.”

Nodding, you down at your hands. “Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “Your parents get it, though. They love you.”

“Sure.” Jungkook speaks carefully. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t hurt each other. Relationships are complicated. It’d be conceited for me to tell you what to do with your mom. Whatever you decide though, I’m here.”

His words spark a fire deep inside you, the opposite of fear and you reach up to pull his mouth down to yours. Surprised, Jungkook’s lips brush once, twice before the kiss becomes hungrier. When his head finally lifts, his gaze remains fixed on your mouth.

“Right,” he rasps.

“Outside?”

Jungkook nods so quickly, you nearly laugh. “Uh-huh, yeah – outside. Hang on,” he says, turning around to head for a closet.

About a minute later, Jungkook emerges with several blankets and a backpack he refuses to open. Handing over a blanket, he leads you by the hand towards the back door.

“Let’s go,” he commands.

Hiding a smile, you follow him into the night. A tiny garden is growing beyond the house, and you marvel at its permanency. You and your mom moved so often that you eventually stopped bothering to put down roots. Jungkook has been the first thing in a long time you’ve wanted to keep.

Lifting the latch on the gate, Jungkook leads you down a small path through the woods. By now, your eyes are accustomed to the semi-darkness. If one can even call it darkness, with the nearly full moon overhead. Your breath catches when the path ends in a meadow bordered on all sides by pine trees.

Retrieving your blanket, Jungkook spreads them both on the ground. Taking a seat, he motions for you to join and waits until you do. Leaning into his side, you stare at the sky.

“See that?” Jungkook points at the woods. “Dad pulled up that boulder to block deer from getting into the garden. Didn’t work. They just go around.”

Your lips twitch in a smile. “Bet your mom was mad.”

“Oh, no. She finds the ongoing battle hilarious. Secretly roots for the deer, I think.”

Even as you laugh, you feel a sharp pang of envy. Your mom has always been adamant your power isn’t something to be shared, something to be laughed at. It must have been wonderful to grow up in a household that used magic without fear.

The moment you think this, you realize you might have that now. Seokjin has always been supportive of your magic. Micah and Taryn suggested you teach a class for Elementals. Jungkook knows what you are, and he hasn’t run yet.

When you face him, Jungkook is already looking. His eyes roam your face, as though committing you to memory.

“Where did you go just now?” he murmurs, his hand inching closer on the blanket. “What were you thinking?”

Slyly, you tilt your head. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering how many ‘shakes the bed’ jokes you’ll let me get away with.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “Only one.”

“What about a good ‘you rock my world’ pun?”

“Ugh, zero,” he groans.

“What about –”

Growling, Jungkook falls backwards onto the blankets. “That’s it,” he demands, taking you with him. “That’s the last straw!”

“Stop it!” you gasp, giggling helplessly as he tickles your sides.

Smile broadening, Jungkook flops onto the blanket and goes still. Half-sprawled over his chest, you loop one arm over his waist and stare at the sky.

“You get two jokes,” Jungkook says. “And if they’re not good jokes, I’m allowed to dole out punishment as I see fit.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise,” he says, his smile wicked.

At the look in his eyes, the air between you thickens. Jungkook’s finger hooks under the hem of your blouse, tracing the skin just above your skirt.

Heat flows through your limbs. “Tell me,” you whisper, staring down. “How many other girls have you brought here?”

His low chuckle shakes you. “None.”

“None?” you blurt out. “Teenage Jungkook didn’t pull that rock trick with any youthful paramours?”

“No.” Gently, he lowers you onto your side. “Believe it or not, I was a nerdy teenager. Super into rocks. Loved superheroes. The only ground-shaking happening back then” – sadly, he shakes his head – “was when I lost at Overwatch.”

Your lips twitch in response. “Seriously, though.” Lightly, you drag a finger across his collarbone. “What, um, happens when you…”

Your gaze flicks upward, and you find him intent, focused on you.

“When I do what?” Jungkook murmurs.

“When you… come.”

His gaze has turned molten. “Usually, I can control myself.” Jungkook pauses, then grips you by the waist to pull you on top. A startled noise leaves you, and you steady yourself on his chest. “With you, though… let’s just say, I’m glad we started outside.”

Your mouth goes dry as your body settles to his. Minutely, you shift your hips over his and feel Jungkook’s hands tighten.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

Reaching upward, he gently cups your jaw and brings your face down to his. The brush of his lips is soft at first, a call and response. When you exhale, his grip on you tightens, his tongue slipping past. Pulling you closer, Jungkook’s hand slides to the back of your neck.

His other hand fists in your blouse, abruptly sitting up to take you with him.

“Oh,” you gasp, arms sliding around him.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, your noses barely touching.

His body is warm and solid beneath you, thighs spilled over his lap to land on either side. Curling one hand into your shirt, Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with yours.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, and you nod.

Slipping a hand higher, Jungkook lifts your shirt until it comes away. Tossed on the blanket, his hand skims your side before resuming the kiss. His mouth is hungry, savoring the feel of your bare skin with his palm. His touch moves higher, drifting beneath your breast as you shiver.

Rocking forward, you realize how hard he is. Cupping your breast with one hand, Jungkook teases your nipple, and you let out a moan. Swallowing the sound, he crushes your mouth to his. Your hands move to Jungkook’s hair, hips moving more urgently.

“Stop that,” he growls, pulling back. “You’ll ruin me before I have a chance to begin.”

“Seems fair, then,” you say with a smile.

Jungkook smirks, leaning back to observe your tits spilling over the bra. Running his finger along the line, he slips a finger past and tugs your bra down. Sharply, you inhale at the night air on your breast. Jungkook’s mouth is there a second later, nipping, then licking the sensitive bud.

Shifting on top, you arch to get him closer. Jungkook tugs down the other cup, pinching your breast with his fingers. Whimpering, you grasp his hair tightly and roll your hips.

Jungkook grunts in approval, his legs coming up to trap you against him. Switching to your other breast, he teases until you’re frantic, grinding against his fully clothed lap.

Now, you expect him to undress but Jungkook keeps his attention on you. Sliding his hand up your thigh, he slips under your skirt to cup your ass with one hand. Controlling your movement, he kneads your ass with his palm as you rock against him.

“Fuck – Jungkook,” you groan, your head tipped back.

Heated, he trails kisses down the line of your throat. “You’re thinking too much. Want to see you lose control. Let me take care of it.”

Too stunned to be coherent, you tug on his t-shirt. “This. Off,” you demand.

Pulling back, Jungkook grasps the material with one hand to remove. When his chest is revealed, you make a noise in response. Greedy, you drag your palms down his firm chest. His tattoos entwine, a tapestry of ink across his tanned muscle.

Bending, you press a kiss to a lily and feel Jungkook shudder. Continuing your path, you flick your tongue against his brown nipple and are rewarded with a groan.

“Enough,” Jungkook demands, slapping you on the ass. “Up.”

Surprised, you jerk upright. Heat suffuses your skin, radiating from the same spot his palm covers. Seeming to understand, Jungkook massages the same spot over the fabric of your panties.

“What?” you exhale, thoroughly distracted.

Jungkook smirks, both brows lifted. “Stand up. It’s important, I swear.”

Gathering your senses, you manage to stand. Jungkook remains seated before you while he blatantly ogles. Running his tongue over his lower lip, the bulge in his jeans looks painful, although he doesn’t seem to notice.

“That skirt has to go.” His gaze lifts. “Please.”

Without breaking eye contact, you shimmy the skirt down your legs. Stepping aside, you push this away and step back. Lifting himself to his knees, Jungkook grips the skin of your ankles. His hands slide upward with agonizing slowness, hovering when he reaches the top of your thighs.

“Jungkook,” you murmur. “What are you doing?”

He looks up, his gaze dark. Only then does he drag both thumbs back, over your aching center. Although your panties remain, your knees nearly buckle.

“Ah.” Jungkook pauses, then repeats the motion. “Right there?”

“Fu-ck,” you groan.

He does this again, casually touching over your cotton panties. Breasts aching to be touched, you lift your palms to cup their weight with both hands. Jungkook watches, his gaze intent while he watches you tug at your nipples.

Abruptly, Jungkook pulls your panties aside to lean in and lick. Now, your knees do buckle, feeling his tongue slip through your folds. Chuckling darkly, Jungkook sits back and places your panties where they were.

Laying down on the blanket, he motions to his chest. “Kneel,” he says. “You can keep touching your tits if you want, but I need to make you come.”

The kernel of heat in your chest is now a storm, clouds gathering overhead as you kneel on the blanket. The moment your knees hit the ground, his hands find your waist, moving you into position. Turning his head, Jungkook brushes a soft kiss to your thigh.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, tracing his index finger down your soaked center. “Already so wet, and I’ve barely touched you. I thought about this a lot,” he admits, gaze lifting to yours. “Thought about how tight and wet you’d feel around a few of my fingers. Bouncing up and down on my hand to make yourself come.”

“Oh,” you breathe, entranced.

Lips tilted, Jungkook pulls aside your damp panties. His thumb swipes over your clit – once, twice, until he feels you tremble. Grasping your ass, he pulls you lower and makes direct eye contact when he licks.

“Oh, god,” you choke out.

Other men have eaten you out, but it’s usually a pleasant, if unremarkable event. Being with Jungkook is different. No one has ever done this as though you’re the main course, as though they get off on your pleasure as much as their own.

Hand tight on your waist, Jungkook spreads your ass while sucking on your clit. Moaning, you bend to place both hands on the ground. Jungkook grunts his approval, sucking again before pulling back for light licks. You can feel your arousal sliding down your thighs, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

“Yeah.” Jungkook pauses, tracing your entrance with his finger. “That’s so hot, Y/N. You’re so fucking hot.”

Face burning, you can feel the water gathering in clouds overhead. The earnestness in his voice ignites your pleasure to a full-on inferno.

“More,” you demand, wriggling your hips. “Please, Jungkook.”

Eyes gleaming, he reaches up to spread your thighs further. Resuming eating you out, he moves you against him with loud approval. Your panties continue getting in the way until, with a frustrated noise, you hear fabric shred.

Eyes wide, you glance down as Jungkook throws them aside. “I’ll get you new ones,” he says, his voice hoarse, before diving back in.

“Oh – god!” you gasp, gripping his hair when he sucks even harder.

The clouds overhead darken, and rain starts to fall. Jungkook pauses to glance upward, then grins. “That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. “Want you to soak me. Give me everything, okay? Don’t hold back.”

Pulling you down again, his tongue swirls around your clit. Jungkook’s hands remain on your ass, cupping you reverently while you grip his hair. Unapologetic, you start riding his face while he works you open.

Tracing your entrance with his finger, Jungkook gets himself wet before he slips inside. Your entire body clenches, shaking with the impending force of your orgasm. Everything pulses – the rain, your blood, his heart and his tongue.

When he adds a second finger, you cry out, head tipped back. Clenching hard on his hand, shudder after shudder rolls through you as the sky breaks. Sheets of rain drench your skin while Jungkook continues to lick, bringing you down from your orgasm.

Catching your breath, the rain slows to a drizzle. Dazed, you slump forward as Jungkook slides his two fingers out. Grasping you around the waist, he settles you beside him and smiles. Jungkook’s torso is damp with rain and arousal, and you think no one has ever looked so beautiful.

“Jungkook,” you moan. “Why’d you stop?”

Huffing a laugh, he pulls you close to his side. “Did you want to keep going?” he teases.

“Obviously.”

“Hm.” Hand slipping down your spine, he firmly cups your ass. “Maybe you’re tired. Are you sure once wasn’t enough?”

Lifting a brow, drape your thigh over his so he can feel how wet you are. Jungkook’s eyes narrow, fingers digging harder into the curve of your waist. From where you are, you can see the painful bulge in his pants.

“I’m not tired,” you promise. “Are you?”

Rather than answer, Jungkook pulls you down for a kiss. One of his hands finds your knee, sliding higher to skim your drenched pussy from behind. You swallow a moan when his jeans rub your clit. Fingers tracing your entrance, Jungkook spreads your pussy with delicious slowness.

Breathless, you move against him in a helpless bid for friction. Jungkook keeps you still, controlling the motion despite your desperation.

“I want your pants off,” you demand against his lips.

Jungkook chuckles and lays back on the blanket. “Alright.”

Grasping his belt, he unbuckles and pulls the strap through his jeans. Unbuttoning these, he shoves denim past his thighs to cast it aside. When he’s in just boxer-briefs, Jungkook pulls you closer to lay on his chest.

“God,” he breathes, marveling at your skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Rain that you’ve called slicks both you and him. Lowering your head, you breathe Jungkook in and rock your hips forward. Jungkook’s fingers trace your center, easing your thighs wider to slip a finger inside.

“Oh,” you moan, slightly breathless.

Beneath you, his cock feels rock-hard. Pushing against him, you feel Jungkook’s finger moving and know that this must be torture. Continuing to tease, you rub your nipples over his chest.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “I want you.”

Lips twitching, he adds a second finger. “You can barely take two of my fingers. Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not,” he drawls, slapping your ass again. “But yeah, take my cock out. Want to feel you.”

Reaching lower, you push his boxers down the best you can. Jungkook’s cock is freed, bobbing between you. You forgot how big he is. Although you’ve seen him twice, both times ended poorly, and you tried not to think about his prettiness afterwards.

And how thick his length is. Swallowing, you eye his girth and wonder if Jungkook is right – you’re not ready. Maybe you never will be.

Gently, Jungkook cups your face to return your gaze to his. “Eyes on me,” he murmurs, thumb beneath your chin. “I’ll get you there. Don’t worry.”

Some of your tension disappears. Nodding, you relax when he lowers his hand to rub your clit in circles. Exhaling, your legs spread further when Jungkook adds a third finger. The stretch feels good, being spread from behind and you lower your head to stare down your body.

Jungkook’s abs end in a v, his cock so hard it hovers above his skin, a thick bead of cum gathered at the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “Want to suck your cock.”

He pauses what he’s doing to look up, heavy-lidded.

“What, baby?” he murmurs.

“I want your cock in my mouth,” you insist, sitting up. “Please.”

His eyes gleam and Jungkook slowly sits up, easing you on top. Pulling his fingers free, he grasps your waist.

“Since you asked nicely.” His smile is crooked. “Go on.”

Inhaling sharply, you scoot backwards. Kneeling over him, you swiftly bend to grasp the base of his length. His cock stands, erect and vascular between muscled thighs.

Your hand barely fits around him, and you clench at the realization he’ll soon be inside. Spreading your thighs, you lower yourself to take him in your mouth. Jungkook groans when you suck, shifting his weight underneath.

His chest rises and falls, watching from lowered lashes as you take him in deeper. Choking a little, you use your spit to make his shaft wet. When his fingertips curl into the blanket, you feel a low tremble in the earth. Emboldened, you relax your mouth and deep throat him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jungkook groans. “Yes.”

Using your right hand to jerk him off, you suck the tip. Bending further, you drag your tongue lower, teasing and tormenting until Jungkook is sweating.

“Fu-ck,” he mutters, one hand on your neck. “Yeah, Y/N. Yes. Like that. Good girl.”

His hips rise when you deep-throat him, another tremor shaking the world underneath. Suddenly, he grasps your waist and pulls you upward.

“Want to come inside you,” Jungkook demands. “Not like this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Reaching below, he swipes two fingers through your pussy and brings these to his mouth. Not breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks. “Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, releasing them with a pop. “You’re so wet. You liked sucking my cock, huh?”

Nodding, your arms find his neck when he does it again. Jungkook fingers you slowly before, pulling out, reaches for the backpack. Unzipping the side, he retrieves a condom and lube. Breaking open a packet, he rolls the condom over himself and slicks it up.

“This good?” he murmurs, pulling you onto his lap.

Breathless, you nod, both hands on his shoulders. Slowly, your hips lower until he brushes your entrance. Stifling a gasp, you watch his eyes narrow.

“Don’t be quiet.” Using his hands, Jungkook guides you lower. “I want to hear you, Y/N.”

His cock enters barely an inch, only to stop, your head spinning. Jungkook’s grip tightens, a muscle fluttering in his jaw with visible restraint.

“Oh,” you breathe and look down. “You’re so big.”

“You can take it.” Jungkook speaks as though it’s a given.

Pleasure surges and you lower yourself another inch. It already feels like too much, too full of an already great thing. Cupping the back of your neck, Jungkook holds you against him and moves you slightly lower.

You wait for your body to catch up, muscles relaxing to sink down a bit more. This happens again and again, your body accommodating his thick girth. The lube is essential, easing you open while he takes his time. Jungkook helps you through it, teasing you with his fingers, kissing you deeply until your hips settle with his.

“Oh,” you whisper against his lips.

The position is more intimate than you thought it’d be. Seated like this, you sit face to face and feel his length inside. It’s hard to tell where you end, and he begins. Jungkook shifts, moving deeper and your entire world expands.

“Oh,” you repeat, lifting your hips. Slowly, you drop back down.

Jungkook’s groan is guttural, coming from a place deep inside. Gripping your ass, he helps you ride him – slowly, he moves you up and down on his cock. Each time you feel fuller, his length hitting a place that makes you incandescent. Rain drizzles, then stops, then starts to fall harder.

Neither of you notice, the pace increasing until you find yourself slamming down, fingernails digging into the curve of his shoulders. Grunting, his hand remains on your ass while you move on his cock.

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook groans, watching your chest. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N.”

“You feel so fucking good,” you whimper, reaching backwards. Gripping his knees, you use these for leverage to fuck up and down.

Jungkook stares at you, dazed, and then surges forward. Bending, he sucks your nipple as you ride him, a loud moan escaping. Chest arched, you beg for more and Jungkook obeys, moving to your other breast. His other hand stays on your ass, guiding the motion of your hips with his.

You think you could do this forever and maybe you could if this weren’t your first time together. Three months of wanting and not having him have turned you desperate. You want more. Deeper. Harder. You want to feel Jungkook undone, and you want that now.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “I need… more.”

“More?” Lifting his head, Jungkook searches. “How? Tell me what you want.”

Continuing to move your hips, you watch his face slacken. “I you to fuck me, Jungkook,” you pant, the words spilling out. “Want you to make me come without… without worrying.”

His brow lifts. “Is that all? Want me to fuck you from behind like the dirty girl you are?”

“Yes, please,” you gasp.

Lifting yourself from his cock, you ignore the sudden emptiness and turn around. Placing both hands on the blanket, you arch your back and look backwards.

Jungkook stares at you, still and you know what he must see. Legs spread, back arched and pussy on full display. You can feel how wet you are, arousal dripping from your cunt, already stretched by his cock.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, scrambling upright. Getting on his knees, he positions himself behind you. Swiping through your pussy several times, he grabs the lube and dribbles more down your folds.

Dropping this, Jungkook bends and rubs your swollen clit. Positioning his cock at your entrance, Jungkook pushes inside with a single thrust. You go from absolutely nothing to being so full, you cry out his name.

Grasping the blanket, your back arches. Jungkook stays like that for a moment, letting you feel him. One hand grips your ass, sliding up your spine to push you lower. Breathless, you obey and rest both elbows on fabric.

“Just like that.” Jungkook slips two fingers to either side of his cock. Gathering lube, he slips this up and over your asshole. You whimper, turned on by the notion.

Slowly, he pulls his length out and pushes back in. Another noise escapes, fingers scrambling in blankets to push back against him.

“Please, Jungkook,” you groan. “Harder.”

“Harder?” Excruciatingly slowly, Jungkook does it again. “You need to earn it, baby. Let me know that you want this.”

Withdrawing, he pushes in leisurely from behind. He does it again and again until your toes start to curl, ass pushing backwards to take him deeper. Storm clouds roil while your frustration mounts, the need for him inside you a tangible feeling.

Eventually, you snap and turn your head around. “I swear,” you demand, gaze fixed on his. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll find someone who will.”

Jungkook’s eyes dance. “You can try,” he promises, and pulls out again.

This time, Jungkook doesn’t hold back. Rain breaks, soaking the meadow when he starts pounding inside you. Jungkook’s hips slam to yours, over and over while his cock fills you.

Gasping his name, you see stars as you come together. Again and again, until you cry with pleasure and something else – something untethered and new. Reaching between your legs, you push yourself further as the pleasure builds. Feeling you flutter around him, Jungkook growls and chases his own release.

“You first,” he pants, his grip tight. “I can feel how close you are. Such a good girl, soaking my cock like I asked.”

His voice in your ear, his cock deep inside you, pushes you over the edge and shatters you to pieces. You hear the trust in his words, behind every touch while giving you parts of himself. Jungkook thrusts into you harder, shuddering into the condom as the ground shakes beneath you. Miraculously, you aren’t thinking about anything but him – not the storm, not the earth and not even your magic.

Gradually, his hips slow and Jungkook slowly pulls out. Removing the condom, he cleans you both off and pulls you down to the blanket. Stretching your limbs, the rain slows to a drizzle as your eyes open.

Nothing exists in Jungkook’s gaze but happiness, echoing yours. Pressing closer to him, your limbs entwine as you push back his hair. Suddenly sleepy, you stretch alongside him – only to notice the giant crack in the earth.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes wide. “The ground!”

Craning his neck, Jungkook notices the spot. “Oops,” he says sheepishly, turning back. “Guess I got carried away.”

Shocked by his nonchalance, your gaze flicks to his. “Aren’t you… embarrassed?”

Burrowing into your neck, he pulls you closer. “Should I be? I’ll fix it – tomorrow,” Jungkook adds. “That took a lot out of me,” he chuckles, and you feel your cheeks heat.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “That was…”

“For me, too.”

Looking up, your brow furrows. “Do you think that’ll happen every time?”

“What, the giant rainstorm and the earthquake?” Seeing your face, his own softens. “I don’t know. It’s never been like that for me before.”

Something about the way Jungkook says this, almost shy, quiets a voice in your mind. The voice that insists on questioning every good thing. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead, Jungkook lies down alongside you. The two of you stay like that for a while, the clouds parting above to show a velvety sky.

Eventually, your silence turns to conversation. Everything you’ve hidden from each other trickles outward, in slow doses. Jungkook murmurs about his family, his childhood and the times he lost control. You tell him about art, about Taryn and Micah, about the easel being the one place you feel capable of using your magic.

Before long, Jungkook is hard and this time, you pull him on top. You come again – and again, your rain responding in droves. The last time, it's only a drizzle, and Jungkook barely shudders the earth. It helps, knowing what to expect and focusing solely on him.

At some point, you must doze off because you wake in Jungkook’s arms walking through the garden. He brings you upstairs, lending you toothpaste and a t-shirt from one of the bedrooms. Slipping under the covers, you smile at Jungkook when he joins you.

Before, sleeping over was impossible but now, things are different. Jungkook knows who you are. He knows everything about you and loves you anyways. Heart soaring, you trace the panes of his face in the dark. So different from the night you broke up.

Sleepy, he smiles. “Just try and break up with me,” Jungkook mumbles, turning his face from the pillow. “See what happens.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his chest. “That sounds like a challenge. Are you angling for make-up sex?”

“That part was fun,” he admits. “Everything else sucked.”

“It did.” Your smile fades. “Would it freak you out if I said… I don’t plan on us breaking up for a very long time? Possibly ever?”

Jungkook’s eyes open. Gently, he leans forward and captures your lips with his. This kiss is unrushed, unhurried and you hear the unsaid words. You have all the time in the world together.

“Never sounds good to me,” he murmurs, pulling back. Like that, fully grounded, you drift off into sleep.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Magic, to you, has never been a boon.

Despite its romanticization in movies and stories, the reality of magic is messy and unpredictable. As dangerous as it can be fickle, your mom likes to say. Usually followed by a glance in your direction, swift enough for you not to notice, although you always do.

Either that, or an unconscious tilt her chin towards the photograph on the mantle. You aren’t sure she even realizes she does it, acting on instinct alone. The photo is of your dad, holding you on his shoulders with an ear-to-ear grin. He was the other Elemental in your family.

Even with only one magical parent, the Elemental gene tends to be passed on to children. Your dad’s magic was water, skilled in manipulating and calling forth the element. He was lauded for it, which was in itself unusual. More often, Elementals are run out of town by other humans. Although time has gone by since societal integration, there are still many who view your kind with suspicion.

You can’t say that you blame them – not really. Because again, the reality of magic is it can be dangerous. Based on experience, bad things tend to happen when you lose control.

Head tilted, you squint through the fog at your boyfriend’s apartment. For centuries, fog has been heralded as an ill omen and maybe there’s some degree of truth to it. Maybe the first speaker lived near a temperamental water Elemental, unable to keep their emotions from manipulating the weather.

Thoughts souring at how close to reality this feels, you shake your head once and some of the fog clears.

A pep talk, you think. That’s what you need to convince yourself to enter. Unseasonably chilly this late in the summer, your fingers curl into the ends of your sweater. Going inside would be preferrable to standing out in the cold, and yet you can’t manage a single step.

Better to stand in the cold than enter and shatter.

Again, you remind yourself you’re doing the right thing and again, this doesn’t help. If anything, it makes you clutch your sweater tighter. For once, you wish doing the right thing meant what’s right for you. Exhaling deeply, your eyes shut as a train passes and shakes the ground.

You began dating Jungkook three months ago and within a week, you knew it was different. You have a tendency to hide pieces of yourself, knowing most people won’t like what they find. Jungkook never allowed that to happen. The first time you ghosted, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop the next morning and asked what had gone wrong. Taken aback, you responded honestly and to your surprise, Jungkook listened.

He stayed. Stayed when others had run, cementing himself on a short list of people you can trust. Three months into dating, things have moved at once fast and slow. Fast because typically, you exit relationships long before feelings like these ones develop. Slow, because you haven’t given Jungkook every part of yourself.

Physical intimacy comes to mind. On several occasions, this has proved… difficult.

Eyes opening, you stare at the door. Memories of last night rise to the surface. For a long time, you’ve known this relationship has an end date. Knowing this doesn’t prepare you for the difficult conversation ahead.

The last time you saw Jungkook was after midnight. Fat raindrops chased your footsteps while you ran from his place, descending the subway at a record pace. The look on his face remains stuck in your mind and even now, you find the thought hard to revisit.

Imagining hurting Jungkook again is unfathomable. Stifling a gasp, you spin on your heel and march away. Halfway to the gate, you get a grip on yourself. Coming to a stop, you remind yourself this isn’t about you. Jungkook will hate you – there’s nothing to do about that now. Now, this is about Jungkook and ensuring he’s safe.

Slowly, you turn around and make your way forward. In the name of procrastination, you stop at a trash can to clean out your purse. Old receipts, gum wrappers and a crumpled-up napkin shake into the bin. You pause at the napkin, staring at the embossed name of the restaurant you work at. Or – more accurately – worked at.

Slamming the trash lid, you turn. You began work at Pierre’s Bistro two months ago as a temporary measure. Ideally, you paint but lately, inspiration has run dry. Waiting tables pays the bills, leaving time at the end of the day to stare at a blank canvas.

Pierre’s is an upscale French restaurant a few blocks down with semi-decent food and waiting tables would be fine if the owner – Pierre – weren’t a massive asshole. Now that you don’t work there, you can be honest about that. Pierre was the most sexist, elitist, capitalistic piece of shit you’ve ever had the displeasure of working for. While on his payroll, you tried to make the best of it but now, you have nothing to lose. Pierre was a dick.

A point he proved yet again last night, much to your mortification. You prefer working the lunch shift to dinner, and weekdays to weekends. Saturday nights are worst of all, and last night Pierre didn’t arrive until well after six. You were forced to cover the entire front section, picking up for a co-worker who called in sick.

Rushing from the bar, you nearly crashed into your boss removing his coat. Grabbing you by the elbow, Pierre steadied you, his hand lingering.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” he joked.

You forced a smile. Experience has taught you the best thing to do in those types of situations is to smile and laugh.

“No fire. Lots of customers! Excuse me,” you said and tried to move past.

Pierre didn’t release you. If anything, his grip on you tightened until you turned your head.

“Yes?” you said, impatient.

Pierre didn’t respond, looking you slowly up and down. Eventually, he released you to take a step backwards. “Nothing,” he said carefully. “Be careful out there tonight.”

Trying not to gag on his words, you moved on. Unfortunately, it was hard to escape Pierre’s notice once caught. From that point on, each of your flaws were held under a microscope. First, it was that you didn’t fold the napkins correctly. Next, you took a wandering path from kitchen to table. Each time you entered the dining room, scornful words were covered by simpering smiles.

By the time your shift end approached, you could barely keep going. A large group had entered and, seeing the host occupied, you took it upon yourself to seat them at your last table. Fixing your apron, you hurried through the restaurant and into the kitchen.

Grabbing another table’s dishes, you thanked the cook and pushed open the door. Immediately, arms shoved you back in. Startled, you barely had time to recognize the host, Vanessa, before the doors swung shut.

“Vanessa?” you said, adjusting your grip. “What’s going on?”

Harried, she glanced over one shoulder. “Sorry,” she sighed, curly hair slipping from her messy bun. “I wanted to warn you before you went back out. Pierre is pissed.”

Your stomach sank. “Pissed… at me?”

She nodded, another dark curl escaping. “Something about saving the table up front for his friends? Bullshit, yes,” she said at your expression. “But you know how he is.”

“Yeah, I know,” you muttered. Deciding there was nothing to be done but keep moving, you hefted your plates higher. “Okay, thanks for the warning. I need to get these to table ten.”

“No problem,” she said and stepped out of your way.

You walked inside with slightly less spring in your step. Pierre lounged near the bar, surrounded by a group of people you could only assume to be friends. Although you felt his gaze on your face, you avoided him the best you could while you made your rounds. Taking the long way to the kitchen, you passed in front of the window.

Which was the moment you noticed Jungkook waiting for you on the curb. He stood beneath a streetlight, light pooling around the ends of his dark hair. When he saw you approach, his face lit up and he smiled.

Cursing beneath your breath, you smiled back. You were supposed to be done a half-hour ago, but there hadn’t been a good time yet to stop. Waving back, you mouthed, just a minute, and frantically pushed through the crowd to the back.

Merely seeing his face lifted a weight from your chest. It was easy to be around Jungkook because he liked every part of you. You never felt the urge to pretend, to curve yourself into something someone else would find pleasurable.

Well, he liked every part except one – and you were working on telling him that.

Hurrying into the staff room, you forgot your plan to avoid Pierre. You nearly jumped a mile when a hand grabbed your elbow, spinning you to face your fuming manager.

Pierre stared down his nose. “Follow me,” he snapped, releasing your arm to spin around.

He passed tables full of patrons, leading you to the bar before turning. “Y/N,” Pierre said, his voice dropping. “Are things okay tonight?”

“Yes,” you responded, deciding one-word answers were safest.

“Then why, exactly, are you fucking this up?”

Your jaw tensed. “I wasn’t aware I was doing so,” you said carefully.

“The napkins?” Pierre made a tsk-ing sound. “How many times should I say that presentation is important? Not to mention your laziness. One of your tables had to flag me down to ask for a refill. And now, you gave away the front table.” His expression darkened. “What makes you think you, a fucking waitress, can step in for a host? You sat someone at the table I personally reserved for my friends!”

You shouldn’t have responded. You should have stayed quiet and yet –

“There was no name in the book,” you muttered.

“What’s that?” Pierre waited and, when you stayed silent, shook his head. “I hadn’t had time to write their name down, but I told Vanessa, who assured me it’d happen. Of course, she wasn’t taking into consideration Y/N, the wonder waitress! Taking everyone’s jobs and making them harder.”

At your sides, your hands balled into fists. It took a greater amount of concentration than normal to keep your emotions from spilling over.

Of course, there were explanations for Pierre’s accusations. The napkins were correct before he jostled the table. You had been circulating your tables and if you were unavailable, it was because of his poor staffing. Oh, and – he didn’t make a reservation for his friends.

Slowly, you exhaled and stuffed down the responses. Deep down, with other emotions and magic. Beyond Pierre, a glass trembled but once you relaxed, the water went still.

“I apologize,” you said, not meeting his gaze. “I’ll do better next time.”

Pierre sniffed. “See that you do,” he said, brushing past. Grabbing a beer from the bar, you heard his friends burst into raucous laughter. Apparently, your humiliation was entertaining.

Heaving a small sigh, you turned – and froze where you stood.

Outside, Jungkook stared into the restaurant with murderous eyes. Too late, you realized Pierre had pulled you in front of the window. Away from anyone dining, but in full view of anyone on the sidewalk. Like your boyfriend, who witnessed the entire spectacle.

For a moment, your emotions overwhelmed, and you felt magic crack the walls you kept hidden. Embarrassment crept past your boundaries. Humiliation. Fury. Stuffing everything back, you quickly turned to rush through the tables.

Jungkook’s gaze snapped towards you, his brow furrowing. Reaching the staff room, you paced up and down. Jungkook saw you. He saw Pierre’s outburst, which meant you’d have to explain. You’d have to explain to Jungkook – the only person whose opinion you cared about – why you allowed other people to walk all over you.

He’d start to ask questions. Questions like, when was the last time you really got mad? You’d have no good response. Not because you don’t get mad, because you do. But because you don’t ever allow yourself to act on the feeling.

Faced with the prospect of brushing him off, you buried your face in both hands. Your usual excuses wore thin in your ears.

Pierre isn’t so bad. It was a one-time thing. You promise you’ll talk to Pierre tomorrow.

None of it would be true, and you didn’t want to lie to Jungkook. People never understood why you wouldn’t stand up for yourself, but the answer was complicated.

Your last date said you lacked emotions, but you don’t think that’s it. Of course, you have feelings, but those feelings are buried beneath so many layers, they can be hard to see. It’s not that you don’t feel, it’s that you cannot.

When you feel, your magic reacts, and people get hurt.

That was the last part of yourself you kept hidden. Jungkook is normal and he doesn’t know you’re an Elemental.

You know that by now, you should have said something. Obviously, but the timing was never right. Twenty-five years old, and you still aren’t sure how to broach the conversation. Few people know what you are, so you haven’t had much experience with the explanation. Your magic isn’t something you use if you can help it.

Yet another lesson you learned from your mom.

Your dad, an Elemental, died when you were five. Before, you lived near the ocean on a flat strip of sand. Your memories from before then are faint, but whenever you try, you can hear his booming laugh. Can feel the salt sting your cheeks, your mom tossing you in the air while you spun around.

Everything afterwards faded. At five years old, a hurricane swept past the barrier islands and that, you remember. You recall your mom at the door, pleading with your dad not to go as he donned his jacket. You remember him holding her hand, kissing the top of your head, and saying he’d return soon. Not many Elementals lived in your area, and even fewer had water magic.

You recall the hours passing, stretching longer and longer until dawn approached. Flashing lights followed, a woman climbing from her car to speak to your mom. You recall the sound of your mom sobbing, the policewoman’s voice floating into the house.

The storm surge was stronger than expected, but your dad managed to divert the worst. He saved the town only to be hit by a bolt of lightning. Instant death, the policewoman said, her tone implying this might be a comfort. Chest tight, your fingertips dug into the railing. Comfort meant nothing when your dad was gone. The irony struck you even back then – your dad saved others, and no one came to save him.

For weeks following, your mom was a ghost. At first, neighbors stopped by to drop off casseroles and condolences. Soon though, their sympathy stopped, and the whispers began. You were young enough not to notice, too consumed by the enormity of your own loss.

Eventually though, you noticed something was off. Suspicious eyes followed you down the sidewalk. Mothers clutched at their children, hurrying them to the side of an empty street. One day, you traipsed downstairs and overheard your mom on the phone.

She sat at the kitchen table, facing away from the staircase. You paused on the landing, listening to your aunt’s voice blast on speakerphone.

“Nonsense,” she was saying. “Your husband was a hero, and anyone saying otherwise is cracked. He saved your town!”

“I know.” Your mom blew her nose. “But now, people are wondering if he caused the storm. They’re saying maybe he… made the hurricane. It’s this new mayor,” she said, frustrated. “He hates Elementals and keeps insisting our family orchestrated this to collect money. He says –”

“Oh, no.” Your aunt sounded furious. “Don’t you repeat a single word that hateful man says.”

“He has a point, though,” your mom said, her voice low. “Did you hear about Uniontown? A fire Elemental accidentally set their barn on fire. Nearly burned the whole town. Magic is dangerous. I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen, and now –”

“When was the last time your husband lost control, though? Are you saying you think he caused a hurricane?”

“God, no!” You watched your mom straighten. “But there are people saying… awful things.”

“Some people aren’t worth listening to.”

“I know.” Wearily, she exhaled. “They’re talking about Y/N, too, though. Apparently, she caused a tidal wave at the pool last weekend.”

Hearing your name said out loud, you shrank back in the shadows. You weren’t aware your mom knew about that, or that she cared. Bobby Clemmons teased Judith Bryce about her hair until finally, you snapped. Bobby was swept to the other end of the pool, much to Judith’s relief. She thanked you repeatedly.

Bobby was fine, except for some water up his nose. From the way he carried on though, you’d have thought he broke his arm.

Your mother lowered her voice, as though magic was something to be mentioned only in whispers. For the first time, a sense of shame crept over you. Your dad had always been open about magic, though stern. Stern in his belief magic should help people, not hurt. Never once did your dad insinuate magic itself was the problem.

Magic is dangerous.

Your mom’s words on the phone sank in as, your head pounding as you turned around to run up the steps. Even at six, you felt panic. If magic was dangerous and you were magical – that meant you were dangerous, too.

Slipping beneath your comforter, you stared at your shaking hands. Rain hit your windows, snowballing your worry to full-on fear. By the time your mom rushed upstairs, you were rocking under the covers as a storm raged.

She helped to calm you down, got your magic under control and a month after, you moved far away from the sea. A version of yourself vanished as you passed the pier. Despite this, you felt instant relief at the thought of control.

You remember your mom smiling when you joined the highway. “This will be good,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “A fresh start, away from it all. You can be whoever you want to be, Y/N.”

Except for the person you actually were.

Her meaning was clear, even if she didn’t say it out loud. At the time, you found the thought soothing. If you didn’t want to use magic, you didn’t have to. You never had to become your dad, who all your friends said had caused the bad storm. Even the news had turned against you.

Earth Elemental suspected behind San Raoul earthquake!

Jailed air Elemental claims innocence against onslaught of tornadoes!

Fire Elementals flee after string of arson!

Always the exclamation point. Always the lurid fascination that blame could be pinned on a single person. New rules were implemented in the house. No magic, except in your mom’s presence. This soon became no magic at all, but you didn’t mind. Whenever you did use magic, it felt wild, chaotic – the opposite of how you wanted to feel.

Your early years were marked by the struggle to conceal your powers. Years passed without incident and then, something would happen, and you’d have to move. Your mom never begrudged you, simply packed the house to travel to the next city. Each time, you promised you’d do better but by the time you realized school wasn’t for you, you had moved no less than six times.

Art was a risk, though one you found necessary.

Creation meant tapping into emotion, but you found methods of coping. Painting was the only place you loosened the reins on your magic, and so it became an outlet of sorts. A release, preventing your emotions from spilling into unwanted places.

There were other strategies, as well. Deep breathing. Counting backwards from one hundred. Focusing on one point, then on another until the magic calmed in your veins. Until you forgot the dangerous and destructive water around you.

Some people proved more reactionary to you than others. With some people, your magic responded so strongly, you were forced to cut them out completely. The first person this happened with was your best friend, Katrina. You were fourteen when she confided in you her family was fire Elementals. In response, your magic surged.

For a glorious summer, you practiced magic in secret. Each morning, you and Katrina bounded through the woods towards the far creek. You summoned great waves of water for Katrina to singe into mist. Everything was fine until late one evening, your mom caught you. She witnessed the combined magic and lost her temper.

Dragging you from the woods, your mom slammed the front door in Katrina’s face. She sat you down at the kitchen table, delivering a scolding you’ve never forgotten.

Do you know how reckless you were? What if a tree had caught fire? What if you altered the town’s water supply? What if someone saw and the next time a disaster happened, they blamed it on you – or Katrina?

Stricken by these very real possibilities, you promised not to do it again. Although you begged not to move, your mom packed the next day – your fastest exit ever.

The second time you cut someone out was after high school. Elliot was an artist, a quiet guy who dabbled with oils. He saw you painting one day in the park and silently set up his easel beside yours. This happened for weeks until he asked you out. Your ensuing romance was brief and sweet, and your feelings grew within a short period of time.

When Elliot told you he loved you, you dissolved into panic. You could feel how your magic responded, reaching for water that surged through his tiny apartment. Tossing on clothes, you stammered apologies and fled into the night.

For weeks following, it rained. Enough for the reporters to forecast local flooding. The fact terrified you – imagining people trapped on top of cars, small businesses flooded, the Red Cross called in to ferry locals to safety. It took your mom flying out to put you at ease, clearing the skies and regaining control.

Since then, you haven’t let anyone else past your inner walls. Until Jungkook.

Swallowing hard, you stare at his apartment and wonder if you’ll survive. Breaking up with Elliot is one of your worst memories and you only felt a fraction of what you do for Jungkook. Maybe you’ll conjure a hurricane, bringing the events of your life full circle.

Shutting your eyes, you rub at them dully. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You need to end it now, before things get worse. All day, you’ve gone over the facts and arrived at the same conclusion.

As expected, Jungkook was livid about Pierre last night. He wanted to confront your boss himself, although quickly backed off when he realized this was your battle. This though, turned to confusion when you said your intent to do nothing.

Although you tried the usual excuses, none of them stuck. Even if it was just once, Jungkook argued, it shouldn’t go unnoticed. You snapped slightly at this, insisting you’d deal with things in your own time.

Getting angry near Jungkook was peculiar. Suddenly, you became aware of the water around you. Thick, leaden pipes lacing Jungkook’s walls. Moisture that hung in the air, in the clouds – within his very veins. The thought terrified you, wondering what you might do accidentally.

Your panic must have been visible, because Jungkook instantly softened. Crossing the room, he pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “It’s just… I hate seeing you hurt. Of course, you know what’s best. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

His grip grounded you, enough that your magic dissipated, and that you realized a truth you’d hidden for some time.

You were in love with Jungkook.

No one in your life had ever been like him. Someone who was always in your corner, who protected you when they could and lifted up parts they couldn’t. Someone who liked everything about you – even the parts you weren’t brave enough to admit.

Studying his face, you tried to ignore the sudden ache in your chest. Even last night, you knew the inevitable. Memorizing his face, you tried hard to hold on. Jungkook’s slightly rounded nose, his full bottom lip accentuated by two piercings. Dark hair fell over his forehead; strong features contrasted by a soft gaze.

Jungkook watched you as well, and you wondered if he felt the same. Wondered why he’d commit you to memory, since you were the lucky one. He was the miracle, and you were biding your time.

Bending, he lightly brushed your mouth against his. Instantly, you melted. It wasn’t your first kiss and prayed it wouldn’t be the last, but something about last night felt different. Walking the two of you backwards, Jungkook pressed you against the wall and kissed you harder. His touch became desperate, one hand sliding beneath the lines of your blouse.

Your breath hitched at the brush of his fingers, delicious and warm against skin. His touch unknotted a hidden, tangled piece of your soul.

Ever since you met Jungkook, you’d held yourself separate. When you asked him to go slow in the beginning, he agreed. Touching was fine. Kissing was fine. Anything more, and you lost control.

About a month into dating, you met Jungkook at a bar and got tipsy. Three drinks in, you were frantically making out in an alley outside. Jungkook panted, “my place?” against your mouth, and you nodded. The journey back to his place was fast and slow, pausing in every dark place to drag his mouth to yours.

The second his door shut, you found yourself stumbling – into his bedroom, his bed, the confines of his heart. Shoes were discarded with every step, and Jungkook couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. You returned his fervor in spades, nipping his lower lip to watch him smile.

When he fell back on the bed, you saw his pulse quicken. Staring up at you, Jungkook watched your clothing disappear with a gaze so dark, it bordered on onyx. Climbing onto him, you resumed kissing with a newfound reverence. Eyes falling shut, you did your best to stay present.

Each brush of his lips was combustive, each touch of his hands filling you with sharp, pulsing light. And then –

The sink and shower in his bathroom burst on.

Startled, you pulled away and realized it had been you. Your magic had caused it, flooding his bathroom with water. Swearing under his breath, Jungkook scrambled out of bed to hastily turn off both faucets.

You sat there on his bed, heart pounding with fear. By the time he returned, you were already dressed and mortified. Jungkook was all apologies, certain he’d moved too fast, but you assured him he hadn’t. Anything that happened, you were an equal participant – too much maybe, although you didn’t say so out loud.

Lying in bed that night, you stared up at your ceiling. For a moment, it felt as though you were six and under the covers at your old house. Magic was dangerous. You would eventually hurt someone. Dread pooled in your stomach, recognizing the truth. If you couldn’t control your magic around Jungkook, you’d have to end things.

Heartache chased the thought, filling you with so much panic, you nearly drowned. Pushing this aside, you simply resolved to do better. To be better and keep both Jungkook and magic. This was simply another challenge; you owned your magic, not the other way around.

Thus, began the two best and worst months of your life. The best, since you’ve been dating Jungkook and the worst, because at every moment, you’re terrified of hurting him. Walking a line as thin as a razor, you’ve fallen in love while trying your best not to feel.

Until last night, you thought you’d been successful. Life was mostly under control, but then the Pierre debacle took place. Then Jungkook kissed you with such intensity, you forgot who you were and why you’d been holding back. Two long months of restraint and suddenly, you came undone at the seams.

Before long, you were again in his bedroom. Jungkook stripped off his clothes, bare skin pressing to yours with a searing intensity. Pulling you over him, a low hiss escaped while he kissed your throat. Even through his boxers, you could feel how hard Jungkook was. How badly he wanted this; a need you returned.

The thought of him inside you made you frantic. Pushing Jungkook onto his back, you straddled his waist and rocked forward.

Jungkook lay underneath you, his hair a dark halo. Suddenly, you could feel water everywhere. Magic, everywhere – it was in you, around you, in Jungkook’s walls and molecules. Everything felt so utterly fragile, and your magic responded.

Ferocious, it strained at your self-crafted bonds. Realizing how precarious your grasp on control was, your emotions slipped into panic.

You had to leave. Now.

Sensing the change in your body, Jungkook paused.

“I – I’m sorry,” you blurted, scrambling off him. Bending for your pants, you pushed one leg through and hastily zipped. “I need to go.”

Jungkook stared, frozen in place. “I…” Shaking his head, he pushed a hand through his hair. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

Stomach dropping, you roughly shook your head. Part of you ached to correct him but your magic was barely leashed, and you weren’t certain how much longer it’d hold.

Your magic wasn’t something you wanted Jungkook to see.

Frantically throwing on your shirt, you rushed towards his front door. His dog, Bam, whined from the couch and lifted his head as you passed. Yanking open his door, you escaped to the hall and downstairs. You heard Jungkook call after, but he didn’t follow, for which you were grateful.

Remembering his face broke your heart as you entered the subway. You kept your magic at bay until reaching your building, at which point rain swept the city in waves. Soaked through, you got in the elevator and saw Jungkook had texted. Shaking, you responded you’d talk to him tomorrow and turned off your phone.

Rain poured all night and you barely slept. By the time you woke, your mood had gotten worse. Work was torture. Even the lunch shift couldn’t save you, the looming specter of Jungkook impossible to forget. When Pierre showed up around one, you knew you were doomed. His glower could be felt all the way across the restaurant and no matter what you did, you somehow stayed in his way.

With little to no sleep and haunted by last night, the grip on your magic was tentative at best. Your entire shift, it hovered at the edge of your fingers. When Pierre commented you looked tired, the rain outside worsened. When a table of middle-aged men called you ‘girlie,’ their water glasses shook.

It was miraculous nothing happened until the end of your shift. That was the moment Pierre’s friends arrived, seating themselves at the table you gave away last night. One of them laughed as you poured them water, and you managed to push down your snide remark.

Glasses full, you turned around to go and the same one grabbed your waist.

You went still.

For so long, you’ve hidden your magic to protect others. You’ve kept them from hurting and there you were, broken, and no one cared about you. Just like no one cared about your dad, in the end. Teeth gritted, you whirled – and the entire water pitcher dumped itself at him.

At him, not on him.

You didn’t trip. Didn’t throw the water, although either would have been preferrable. Instead, the water leapt from the pitcher to slap the man in the face.

Horrified, you stared as reality sunk in. You had just assaulted a guest – a friend of Pierre’s, at that.

Shocked, the man wiped water down his visage. The entire restaurant fell silent, every eye in the room locked on you. Panic-stricken, you stammered an apology, flung a napkin on the table and fled into the kitchen.

The moment you crashed through the doors, you were hailed a hero. Izumi, your line cook, wistfully recalled the one time she punched a guy who grabbed her ass. Georgina added that once, she spit in the drink of a man who called her a bitch.

Both tactfully avoided the fact that you were an Elemental, which you appreciated. You were starting to feel marginally better – maybe you wouldn’tbe fired, after all – when the door to the kitchen swung open and Pierre stormed through. Seeing his face, your heart sank.

“You!” Spittle flew from his lips as he pointed. “Y/N – pack your things! You’re done here. Fired. You think you can insult my friend, pull some magic bullshit on him, and continue to work here? Fuck that. Get out – now!”

A pin could have been heard in the silence. Coming to your senses, you did exactly as asked and got your things. Pierre hadn’t mentioned pressing charges, and you didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

Outside, you stood on the sidewalk and stared at the bus stop. Storm clouds brewed above, a visualization of your inner turmoil. Eventually, you turned and trudged down the subway.

Things had reached a point you couldn’t ignore anymore. You were beyond out of control. Emotions surged and strained against your internal walls, threatening everyone you held dear. The city didn’t deserve to be punished, even if no one within it knew of your sacrifice. Pierre’s friends were awful, but you could’ve just as easily lost your temper with someone you loved.

Someone like Jungkook, whom you couldn’t seem to be around without incident.

That was the reason most people feared Elementals. It was selfish of you to put your desires ahead of another person’s safety. The only way to protect someone you loved was to stay away.

Starting with Jungkook. You just wished he didn’t have to get hurt in order for that to happen.

Standing outside his building, you take a deep breath and press the buzzer. You wait for several long moments, wondering if he’s home and then –

“Hello?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the speaker.

Leaning in, you press 316. “Hey. It’s me. Y/N.”

A weighted pause, and then –

“Come in.”

The door unlocks, and you push it inside. Climbing the steps to his place, your heart starts to pound. The last time you saw Jungkook, you were running away. The last text he sent was, ‘ok,’ in response to your message. If you were Jungkook, you wouldn’t be thrilled to see you.

Coming to a stop outside 316, you lift your hand and knock. A howl responds, followed by the patter of gigantic dog footsteps. Unable to stop your smile, you shake your head at the chaos.

“It’s just me, Bam!” you say, and he stops.

Bam’s howl is replaced with a whine and the sharp thwack-thwack of his tail on the door.

“Bam, out of the way,” Jungkook calls, his voice coming closer. A few seconds later, the door flies open to reveal your boyfriend.

You only catch a glimpse before Bam barrels out, nearly knocking you over. Legs and tail akimbo, he slobbers all over until you bend to pet him. Once satisfied, Bam turns around and trots back inside.

Silence falls between you, and you look up to see Jungkook. He’s dressed casually, sweatpants and a t-shirt bought at a concert you attended. He hasn’t moved aside, blocking you from entering.

Uncertain, you straighten. “Can I come in?”

Slowly, he nods and moves. You walk past him, trying not to focus on the heat of his shoulder. This might be the last time you see Jungkook, so you try to focus on that. Not the prospect of what you’re about to do.

Hearing the door shut, you take a deep breath and turn to face him. “I can’t stay too long,” you admit, digging your nails into the palms of your hands.

Jungkook regards you warily. His expression makes your chest ache, unused to him with such a stern expression. After last night, you suppose it’s earned. You should probably get used to it.

“Y/N.” His jaw works. “What’s going on?”

Deciding honesty is the best policy – up to a point – you force out your next words. “I think we should break up,” you say in a rush.

With a low whine, Bam slinks in the direction of the bedroom. Jungkook glances at him, distracted, before facing forward.

“What do you mean?” His head tilts. “Like, you want to take a break?”

Steeling yourself, you shake your head. “No. As in, I want to break up. Permanently.”

A train passes by the building, rumbling the floorboards underneath. Most people would avoid living in this building for that reason, but Jungkook was overjoyed by the prospect of discounted rent.

He doesn’t seem overjoyed now, though. Instead, he looks stricken.

“Walk me through this,” Jungkook says, walking closer. The set of his mouth has turned stubborn. “I don’t follow. Why are we breaking up again?”

The knot in your chest tightens. You should have known Jungkook wouldn’t make this easy on you. “We’re not good together,” you say, only to correct yourself. “I mean, I’m not good for you. I’m not in a place where I can be in a relationship.”

He comes to a stop. “I can wait, Y/N. I don’t mind.”

Reaching for you, Jungkook’s brows crease when you take a step backwards. His hand falls between you, and he stares at the empty space. The crack in your heart widens, made worse by his silence.

“I mind, though,” you force yourself to say. “I can’t ask you to wait for me, Jungkook. That’s not fair to either of us. It’s too much pressure.”

The words make your heart splinter, reaching a point you aren’t sure can be reassembled. Maybe the pieces will simply lodge in your muscle, bruising your insides each time you draw breath.

“I won’t pressure you,” Jungkook says, automatic. His frown deepens. “Tell me what this is really about, Y/N. Is this about sex? It’s fine if we don’t have it.” Stepping closer, he takes your hand and you let him. “I just want you to be honest with me.”

Somewhat manic, you shake your head – and then nod.

Sex is a part of the problem, but it’s not the root cause. Sex with Jungkook is unthinkable. You can barely remain in control when you kiss, let alone allow more. With your past partners, this wasn’t an issue, but your past partners weren’t Jungkook.

Never have you met someone able to scramble your thoughts with a kiss. Whose gaze melted inhibitions and tore down every wall. You have little doubt that with Jungkook, you’d lose full control, and the thought is terrifying. Already, your makeshift barriers are weakened.

Rain splatters against the window, and your stomach lurches.

“Seriously, Y/N,” Jungkook says, returning your attention to him. “What’s this about? I can tell something’s on your mind.”

He takes your other hand, and you realize how close he stands. “Is it work?” Jungkook asks, a crease between brows. “Is there… some reason you can’t quit? You can tell me, Y/N.”

An odd zing of disappointment goes through you. For a moment, you thought Jungkook had guessed your secret, and this could all be avoided. If Jungkook knew what you were and that you lied to him – well, he’d end things for you. Hesitant, you consider revealing that truth but can’t seem to form words. It would devastate you, seeing fear replace love in his eyes.

“Work isn’t the problem,” you say at last. “It’s us, Jungkook. Or – it’s me. I don’t want to be together anymore.”

Disbelief flashes across his expression, and you idly wonder what will happen if Jungkook refuses. Even as you think this though, his expression shifts. Jungkook takes a careful step backwards, dropping your hands entirely.

He’s never been good at hiding emotion. Jungkook is your opposite in that way, revealing every shift of thought and desire. You watch confusion become anger, then bitterness a moment before he turns away. The set of his shoulders is still, staring out the window as yet another train passes.

Restless, he turns to drag a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe you,” he declares. “This is so out of nowhere, Y/N. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m telling you everything,” you say, panic rising. “And this isn’t out of nowhere! I’ve been telling you for months I need to take things slow and this – well, this is the opposite of slow, Jungkook!”

Jungkook stares back at you, heated. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the tension thick in between you. Eventually, you look away first and pull your bag tighter.

“Right,” you exhale. “Well, I should go –”

Striding forward, Jungkook reaches you to cup your face with both palms. Gently, he lifts your face towards him, and all thoughts cease completely. Gaze searching, his breath fans across your parted lips.

Jungkook’s gaze intensifies. “I don’t believe you,” he murmurs.

Adrenaline zips under your skin, stirring your magic into a deadly storm. Entire body tense, you suppress the urge to fight or flee. So often, you’re the one running but right now, you feel more compelled to fight.

A knife in you twists, knowing you’re a coward. If you were stronger, you could keep Jungkook. No matter how understanding he is, the fact remains that if he stays with you, Jungkook remains in danger. Each passing day only worsens the pain.

His face blurs. With a start of surprise, you realize there are tears on your cheeks. The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens, noticing as well.

“You’re not listening,” you blurt. “I can’t see you any longer, Jungkook. It’s in your best interest, I promise – I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

Reaching up, you remove his hands from your face and head for the door.

Jungkook follows close behind. “Which is it, then?” he demands. “You want me to go slowly, or you feel too much?”

Pressure weighs every inch of your skin, demanding you answer. Anything that comes out now will only make things harder. Reaching the door, you feel Jungkook’s hand on your shoulder. Caving, you don’t fight when Jungkook turns you to face him.

He’s too close to you. Too much and too close, his one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck. Slowly, his thumb strokes the elongated line of your throat. You swallow, hard, and his gaze follows the motion.

Jungkook’s gaze flicks to yours. “You keep saying you’re no good for me,” he says, his voice low. “But what if I don’t care? Don’t I get a say in this decision?”

The force of holding in your magic worsens, becoming near impossible. Hastily built walls threaten to collapse, and reality blurs between one moment and the next.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, your hand searching behind you. “I have to go.”

Finding the doorknob, you twist and stumble backwards. Jungkook watches you go, the look on his face physically painful as you turn around. Each second that follows is pure concentration, trying not to break before getting outside.

The ocean is only a few blocks from Jungkook’s apartment.

Reaching the harbor, rain pelts your face in a way that feels punishing. Magic makes your limbs tremble, escaping your body in wisps of fog and rain. The moment you arrive at the harbor, you shatter, collapsing forward to grip your knees with both hands.

Eyes pressed tightly shut, you hear the storm howl. Waves churn the harbor, sloshing over the sidewalk in an attempt to get closer. No tidal waves, you plead in an attempt at reason. No whirlpools, no water spouts.

Your magic listens in this regard, at least. By the time your eyes open, a curtain of rain mingles with tears on your cheeks. Staring out at the ocean, each inch of your body is numb.

Jungkook will never forgive you for this.

The thought banishes all the rest. You can’t say that you blame him. Slowly, you exhale as you lift your gaze. The chasm in your chest widens, becoming something unbreachable. This is all your fault. You wish there was some satisfaction in knowing this, but there isn’t.

Eventually, the rain dulls, and you push yourself upright. Your sneakers squish with every step, the silence all-encompassing as you ride on the subway. Entering the building, you remove your shoes and collapse on your bed, fully clothed. Thankfully, your roommate isn’t home, so you aren’t forced to explain the events of tonight. Seokjin would have wanted to discuss, and you aren’t sure you can without breaking down.

Burrowing your face into the pillows, you manage to cry yourself asleep. Rain doesn’t let up the entire night.

“Tell me again.” Taking a seat at the table, Seokjin spoons yogurt and berries into his mouth. “Why did you have to end things with your boyfriend?”

Cracking open one eye, you glare from where you sit, slumped forward. “You know why, Seokjin,” you grumble. “Not all of us can be air Elementals in perfect control of their magic.”

“You could be, though,” he says, pointing with his spoon. “If you put in like, five seconds of training and embraced your water powers instead of running away whenever things got bad.”

“I am not running.”

“No.” Seokjin lifts a brow. “You’re cowering, which is far less attractive.”

“I’m not cowering, either.” Scowling, you bury your head deeper into your arms. “I’m wallowing. Big difference.”

Scoffing, his spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl. Pushing his chair back to stand, Seokjin heads for the sink and turns on the tap. The water itches a spot deep in your chest, almost taunting.

“I can’t be too hard on you, though,” Seokjin says as he cleans. “You did get fired and dumped in one day – that’s pretty rough.”

“Does it count as being dumped if I did the dumping?”

“I’ll allow it.” He opens the dishwasher. “But only because really, you didn’t want to break up with Jungkook. You’ve just convinced yourself the world is better off without you – something I highly disagree with, by the way, but can’t fault you for feeling. It’s too sad.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, and close your eyes.

Two days have gone by since your decision to end your relationship with Jungkook. It hasn’t been great, to put things mildly. On Monday, you barely left your room and rain poured from the sky. When you did enter the kitchen, the weather person on Channel 9 predicted local flooding.

Seokjin arrived from his business trip that night, took one look at your face and helped stop the storm. You sagged with relief, falling into a fitful round of sleep that only lasted three hours.

Seokjin is one of the few Elementals you know who embraces their power. Both his parents are air Elementals, and he was raised to take over their magical consulting business. Said business does well, leading Seokjin to own a gorgeous, three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. He got bored last winter, decided to post for a roommate and here you are. One of the few people in the city willing to room with an Elemental.

You don’t care what Seokjin does with his magic, although his laissez-faire attitude can occasionally be unnerving. You’ve lived your entire life with the assumption your existence is dangerous. All you need is a quick Google search to reinforce this fact. But then there’s Seokjin, living his life, seemingly none the worse for the wear.

He discovered your powers about a month into rooming together. Coming back from a trip, Seokjin opened the door to stare, slack-jawed, as plates washed themselves in the sink. Glancing up from your book at the table, you immediately sent two dishes crashing onto the floor.

Seokjin stared at this for a moment, then looked up. “You owe me new plates,” he declared and walked into his bedroom. After a moment, he popped his head out. “Hey – you think if we combined my wind and your water, we could create a waterspout but on land?”

“That’s… a tornado, Seokjin.”

“Right.” He slapped the doorframe once and disappeared. “Well, something to think about!”

Months later, Seokjin still doesn’t understand your avoidance of magic, but respects the decision enough to leave it alone. At least, until something like this happens and he’s again at a loss.

“Listen.”

Turning around, he shuts the dishwasher with his hip.

“Oh, no.” You grimace. “What now?”

Seokjin raises both hands. “Nothing, nothing. Far be it from me to comment on your mistakes. I’m sorry – did I say mistakes? I meant, ‘learned life experience.’ Through mistakes.”

“Was there a question in all that?”

“No question.” Loosely, he gestures. “Just wanted to say you can stay here, rent-free, until you figure this out. You know I’m only taking your money because you insist. I don’t need it. This place is already paid for.”

“Only because you frightened the seller so badly, they cut the price in half.”

“Listen.” Seokjin’s smile turns slightly sinister. “If they were willing to let their ingrained fear of Elementals influence their selling point, that’s on them. Not me.”

“Fair enough,” you sigh and sit back. “But seriously – thank you. This will give me some time to come up with a plan.”

Seokjin nods, tracing the rim of his coffee. Absently, he glances down the hall at the empty third bedroom. “You know…”

“No,” you say, automatic.

His right brow lifts. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to suggest I use this time off to work on my art.”

“Okay.” Seokjin shrugs. “Maybe you did know. But seriously, Y/N – why not?”

Weary, you exhale. “Because every time I try to paint, I get this… block. I can’t explain it. Watercolors used to be the one place I felt comfortable using my magic. Now… I don’t know. I can’t seem to use my magic anywhere. Even my art.”

Seokjin tilts his head, thoughtful. “How long has this been going on?”

“Don’t know – a few months?”

“Not long after you started dating Jungkook.”

Staring at Seokjin, you realize he’s right. That’s exactly around when you began dating Jungkook. The block happened not long after. Thinking about the early days of dating are painful though, and so you choose not to.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you declare with a shake of your head. “Right now, what I need is a job. And to earn money. Preferably in that order.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch. “Let me know if the order changes. I know a guy.”

Before you can consider his offer too seriously, your phone rings on the table. Glancing down, your heart constricts at your mom’s name. It isn’t that you don’t want to talk. It’s that if you do, Jungkook’s name will come up, and you’ll be forced to explain why you two aren’t together. Right now, you’re managing to cope by avoiding the topic. You aren’t sure what will happen if you’re forced to confront it.

Not to mention the very real possibility your mom will be happy. She liked Jungkook, but she always worries whenever someone new enters your life.

Also glancing at your phone, Seokjin scowls. “Don’t answer it,” he says, walking past. “Whenever you talk to your mom, things get even worse.”

Seokjin’s not wrong. Your mom means well – really, she does – but talking to her tends to leave you exhausted. Still, you know from experience it’s better to answer now.

“I know,” you sigh and stand up. “But if I don’t pick up now, she’ll just keep calling. Hey,” you say, pressing answer. “One second, mom.”

Ignoring Seokjin’s sad shake of his head, you scoop up your coffee and head for your bedroom.

Closing the door to your room, you lean backwards. “Hi, mom,” you say, lifting your phone to your ear. “Sorry about that. I was eating breakfast. How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” your mom says, and you can practically hear her smile. “Same old, same old. The better question is, how are you? I saw on the weather there’s some flooding by you. Hope you’re alright!”

Grimacing, you move the phone to speaker. You should have known your mom would check in. Reading between the lines of her question, you can hear what she’s really asking. Your mom wants to know if you caused the flooding – an answer which is undeniably yes, but she doesn’t have to know that.

Setting down your half-empty mug, you flop face-first on your bed. Less information tends to be more with your mom. You’re debating what to say when she solves the problem for you.

“I know you haven’t had a slip in years,” she continues. “But if there’s another water Elemental in town, you should try to steer clear of them! Being around them could set you off – that’s what happened to Becky’s nephew, she said.”

Fighting an eye roll, you roll on your back. Becky Mayweather is your mom’s best friend in the entire world and one of your least favorite people. She’s the type to bake cookies, offer a shoulder to cry on – and then promptly turn and gossip to the neighbors about it. She fancies herself an Elemental expert because a few of her friends married them. Funnily enough, neither you nor your mom have met these friends in person.

“Oh?” you ask. “I never noticed.”

“It’s true! You know that I worry, Y/N. All alone in the city with another Elemental for a roommate…”

Annoyance spikes in your stomach. “His name is Seokjin, and I’m an Elemental too, mom. His mom could say the same thing about me.”

Seokjin’s mom could be saying that, but she wouldn’t because Seokjin’s mom and dad are both magic enthusiasts. The few times you met them, they were nothing but kind.

“Oh, Y/N.” Your mom sighs. “It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

“Watch your tone,” she says. “I’m only telling the truth. You work hard on controlling your magic. Your roommate, on the other hand, uses his magic willy-nilly. In broad daylight! You two couldn’t be more different.”

Your mom isn’t wrong about that, although not for the reason she thinks. Seokjin does use his magic freely, but you’re the one at risk of hurting others – not him.

“Seokjin is a good guy,” you say tightly. “He’s letting me stay here, rent-free, while I search for another job.”

“Another job?” Her voice pitches. “What happened to the job at that restaurant?”

Cursing yourself for your own stupidity, you close your eyes. “Um… I was let go. Difference of opinions with management.”

“Oh. Well. That’s too bad, Y/N, I’m sorry. It’s probably for the best – you don’t want to be working for someone you don’t respect, right?”

Some of your anger lessens at her genuine sympathy. It’d be easy to paint your mom as the villain but truthfully, she comes from a good place. You know that she loves you; she just doesn’t want to lose you the same way she lost your dad.

Exhaling deeply, you reach to grab a pillow. “I’ve been trying to paint,” you say. “It hasn’t been going well.”

“No?”

You frown at the obvious joy in her voice.

“Yeah,” you admit.

“Well…” Your mom draws the word out. “We always knew art was a risky hobby, Y/N. Painting. With watercolors. Something could easily go wrong and put you in danger.”

“I know, mom.”

“Actually,” she adds, her excitement growing. “Maybe this is a sign. Y/N – what if this means your powers are weakening?”

Your entire body goes still. “What?”

“Yes!” she says, oblivious to the panic in your voice. “You always loved watercolors because they made sense to you, right? Because of your… well, magic. What if a block means your powers are growing weaker? I wonder if other Elementals ever lose touch with their magic. I’ll have to ask Becky.”

Irrational anger surges within, and you hear the faucet in your bathroom turn on. Hastily, you work to turn it back off.

“You don’t need to do that,” you blurt. “I’ll research it myself. Actually, I should get going – I wanted to apply for some jobs this morning.”

“Oh, yes – good call, honey. You go and apply. Let me know if you need help. Becky has connections with the local university. I’m sure someone could help you update your resume – or even apply, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Thanks,” you say, although it absolutely does not. “That’s a nice offer.”

“Have a good day, honey – I love you!”

“Love you, too,” you say before hanging up.

Dropping the phone onto your bed, you hug your pillow tightly. It takes several long minutes to relax, wading your way through an anxious sea of thought. Although your mom means well, conversations with her tend to leave you feeling drained. Since you were young, it’s felt like your mom has an idea of the perfect child, and they aren’t you.

Eventually, you stand to bring your mug to the kitchen. Seokjin is busy making another pot of coffee, the delicious scent wafting overhead.

Passing him by, you eye this warily. “Isn’t that your third pot this morning?”

“And?” Seokjin reaches for his mug. “You’ve had three cups yourself.”

“Touché,” you sigh, collapsing on the couch.

Minutes later, Seokjin enters the living room and hands you a mug.

Staring into the drink, you say, “Thanks.”

Settling onto the sofa, Seokjin examines you over the rim of his coffee. You ignore him, taking a long sip of your drink. A summer breeze wafts through the window, and with a flick of his wrist, Seokjin sends it back out.

A stab of envy goes through you, although you know it’s irrational. Seokjin always makes magic look easy, but you’ve never found it to be so. Maybe when you were younger, before the crippling fear and anxiety had a chance to set in. The only time magic ever felt normal was when you painted and now, you can’t even do that.

Thinking about painting makes you think about Jungkook though, causing the dull thud in your chest to become a sledgehammer. You miss him. Miss the easy way Jungkook made you laugh. How he insisted on constantly touching some part of your body.

Cupping your mug of coffee, you take another sip and sink into the sadness.

“Far be it from me to dole out advice.” Seokjin interrupts your tiny pity party. “But I think you’re going about this the wrong way.”

Too exhausted to argue, you merely exhale. “What’s the right way, then?”

His head tilts. “I don’t know. But I find it weird your block appeared around the same time you started dating Jungkook. You’ve…” Seokjin hesitates, and you recognize his how-do-I-put-this-delicately face. “You’ve given up a lot over the years, Y/N. Maybe this time, you gave up more of yourself than you realized.”

Silently, you wonder whether he’s right. For too long, you’ve gone through the motions of life without really living. Too scared of letting people in, scaring them off, of being yourself. Perhaps giving up Jungkook will be the final straw. The thought doesn’t comfort you, and you have no response.

After a moment, Seokjin turns on the TV. The morning slips by, though you can’t help but think about his earlier comments – could you control your magic if you tried harder? The moment you think this, you instantly banish the thought. You’ve been attempting for months, and nothing has worked.

With this cheery thought, you allow yourself to sink further into melancholy. Only this time, the water rushing overheard isn’t your friend. You aren’t sure it ever was.

Wednesday morning, you leave the apartment in a haze. You thought that by today, things would be better but if anything, the situation seems to be worse.

Missing Jungkook is painful.

It hurts more than you thought, which might sound stupid, but that doesn’t make it any less true. When you and Elliot broke up, it was sad, but you knew it was for the best and that lessened some of the pain. Now though, each beat of your heart prevents the wound from closing. A tentative scab in one second, only to be torn open the next.

Jungkook always sent you good morning texts. Not because he was up before you, but because he went to bed so late, it was only an hour or two before you awoke. His words were the first thing you read in the morning, smiling sleepily at his rambling. Sometimes, Jungkook would include a late-night snack recipe. Always, he’d end with something he liked about you.

His silence is deafening. Something not even your favorite coffee shop can fix, although you try. Standing in line, you aimlessly flip through songs on your phone. Today, you promised Seokjin you’d attend at least two interviews. The first one is in an hour at a sushi restaurant. Before then, you plan to load up on caffeine and organize your thoughts.

When the line moves forward, you flip to your messages. No new texts. Unsurprising, but it rends the scab in your heart anew.

Facing forward, you remove an earbud to order. “Hi,” you say, mustering a smile. “I’ll have an iced americano with rose syrup.”

“Got it.” The barista barely looks up. “That all?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Want a receipt?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.” She nods. “That’ll be ready soon at the end of the counter.”

Nodding your thanks, you replace the ear pod. Cranking your music louder, you wait for your coffee and lean against the counter. The coffee shop is tiny, empty for a weekday after the morning rush. Aimless, you glance over the clustered tables.

Your thoughts are on Jungkook before they can be stopped. You wonder what he's doing, what he’s wearing, whether he’s blocked your number yet from his phone.

A talented graphic designer, Jungkook works mostly on commission and on his own time. He does well for himself – enough to afford rent on his own place. Your mutual creative streak was something you had in common. Not your sleeping hours, that’s for sure.

Jungkook usually slept until nine or ten, then went to the gym before he made breakfast. You used to tease him about that, saying he couldn’t call it breakfast if –

Your heart falters. Jungkook must be on your mind since you seem to have hallucinated him here, at the coffee shop. You blink once, and then twice, but the mirage doesn’t fade, and you’re forced to conclude Jungkook is actually here.

Unfolding himself from a chair, he heads in your direction. Panicked, you glance at the counter, then back up. Your coffee hasn’t finished, which means that you’re trapped. Straightening, you do your best to seem natural and are certain you fail. Jungkook doesn’t just look natural, he is so as he approaches. At least, until you notice his hands in his pockets.

Jungkook does this when he’s nervous. Likely, he’s playing with the inside pocket lining. It hurts, knowing him so well, and not being his. When Jungkook comes to a stop, you stand mere inches apart.

“Jungkook,” you say, his name punched from your diaphragm.

He nods. “Hey.”

Uncertain, you glance down at the counter to check for your drink. Still nothing and, looking back, you tilt your head. “What are you doing here?”

Jungkook’s hands go deeper, if possible. “Getting coffee. Is that allowed?”

Your lips press together. “Sure. Theoretically, you can get coffee. What I’m asking though, is why you chose this coffee shop, five blocks away from your place. Usually, you’re not awake before noon.”

His expression is inscrutable. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah.”

The silence between you lengthens, and not in a good way. You know why you’re quiet but can’t tell what Jungkook is thinking. You suppose that it’s possible he woke up early, forgot this was your favorite shop and went on a long walk for coffee – it’s possible, but unlikely.

At last, Jungkook exhales. “Alright, fine. I wanted to see you.”

“Y/N?”

Both of you turn at the sound of your name. Glancing between the two of you, the barista seems to pick up a weird vibe, dropping the cup to hurry away. Grateful for the interruption, you reach for your coffee and attempt to reset.

It’s not fair of Jungkook, corning you like this. You were already forced to end this once – unfair, making you do so again. Breaking up with him once was barely possible; twice is unthinkable.

“Don’t you have anything else to say?”

His voice interrupts your train of thought and, gripping your drink tightly, you turn.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Like, I don’t know.” His brow furrows, frustration obvious. “Anything, Y/N.”

Behind the counter, the barista fills a tea kettle to set this on the stove. You watch it instead of Jungkook, unsure how you’re going to do this again. The pressure of the water boiling is near tangible, mimicking the internal state of your mind.

Biting your tongue, you decide a safe exit is best. Jungkook will get the hint without you being forced to break his heart. Counting backwards from ten, you exhale and attempt to walk past.

“I’m sorry you came all this way,” you say in a murmur.

You’re nearly past Jungkook when you hear a soft swear. Only one more step happens before his hand grips your elbow.

“Y/N, please,” Jungkook breathes, turning you towards him.

Your gaze lifts and you start at his obvious pain. Staring back, Jungkook searches your face for something unspoken. Whatever he seeks, he must find it, since determination enters his.

You tear your gaze away. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jungkook.”

“I want to know if you were serious about breaking up.”

He’s still holding your elbow.

You must notice this at the same time, but neither of you move. Your gaze returns to his, drawn like a magnet and you realize your mistake when you can’t look away. Romeo’s line about Julie being the sun comes to mind, making sudden sense. You orbit around Jungkook, whether you like it or not.

In the background, a tea kettle whistles. “I meant what I said, Jungkook,” you say, forcing yourself to speak first. “I’m not good for you.”

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “But why,” he demands, frustration seeping through. You can hear in his voice the long nights of desperation, of little sleep in your absence. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Y/N. What did I do?”

A chasm in your chest opens, hating how easily he jumps to self-doubt. Before you can think better of it, you move closer.

“Nothing,” you say, one hand on his arm. “You did nothing wrong, Jungkook. I’m just not in a place where I can be in a relationship.”

“But why not?” His gaze sharpens. “Everything was fine between us until Sunday.”

“Everything was not fine.”

Jungkook pauses, then barrels on. “When you say you can’t be in a relationship… what you’re really saying is you can’t be in a relationship with me.”

“With anyone,” you correct, although you aren’t sure that’s the truth.

Your magic has never been this temperamental. Possibly because this is the first time you’ve fallen in love. Dating someone not Jungkook would be safer, but the thought is abhorrent.

If you can’t have Jungkook, you don’t want anyone. That will be your punishment. Jungkook will move on, fall in love, and be happy with another person. Not you. No one else will compare, and if you can’t now, you doubt you’ll move past this crippling fear.

“You keep telling me that,” Jungkook says, growing heated. “But I’m the one you’re breaking up with, so it’s a little bit about me. You need to give me something, Y/N. Is this about your past? I know you don’t like to talk about your childhood, but I want to know.”

A loud buzzing fills your ears, gaze darting around. You haven’t told Jungkook much about your family, not wanting to invite questions about being an Elemental. The thought of him guessing sparks panic again, and the tea kettle on the stove whistles louder.

“People in my past hurt me,” you say in a rush. Magic itches beneath your skin, begging for escape. “That’s part of it, but not all.”

“What’s all, then?”

Frustration seeps past the wall, and several things happen. Your magic lashes out, a loud noise makes you jump, and the tea kettle shatters while hitting the floor. Water sloshes across the tile, steam hissing as the barista jumps back with a yelp.

Startled, you whirl around. One barista turns off the stove, another grabs a towel while a third finds a broom. Luckily, none of them seem injured – the tea kettle missed their skin. Taking a half-step towards them, you force yourself to stop. Although you want to help, that might make you seem guilty.

Already, the guilt within you is rising. You felt your magic overpowering you and chose to stay. If a barista had been hurt, it would’ve been your fault.

Turning back, you find Jungkook staring at the mess. He looks similarly shocked, twisting the knife in your gut. If he knew you caused this, he’d look at you that differently.

“You see?” you blurt, and he glances in your direction. “Everyone around me gets hurt. I can’t hurt you, too, Jungkook.”

Shoving open the door, you’re halfway outside when his words reach your ears.

“That’s the thing, Y/N,” he says softly. “You already have.”

The door shuts behind you, and you almost make it home before starting to cry. The skies open again above the city.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” you mutter, staring through the window.

The slightly dilapidated Ramen-rama tables stare back at you until the owner walks past. Catching you standing there, he motions you on.

Somewhat chagrined, you trudge down the sidewalk. Reaching a playground two blocks away, you collapse on a bench and attempt to be rational. Four different interviews. Spread across two different days. Each one ending the exact same.

One crappy interview, even two, and you’d understand. But four crappy interviews in the same way? Something weird is happening. Each interview, you arrived, greeted the owner, answered a few questions, and were thus informed the position was filled.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t gotten a job. It was that your interviewers seemed nervous, staring hard at your resume and never your face. They seemed relieved when you left, as though you were liable to break something for fun.

“Hey. Did you interview this morning at Ramen-rama?”

Startled, you turn and find a stranger beside you.

You don’t recognize him; certainly you’d remember if you met before. Dressed in a Ramen-rama t-shirt, his dark hair is gathered in a bun on his head. His hair makes your chest ache, since Jungkook used to wear his like that.

“Um, yeah,” you say, yanking yourself from your daydreams.

He smiles and nods. “I thought that was you. Listen – I overheard the manager talking this morning on the phone while I was unloading the truck. I think he was talking about you, so I thought I should tell you what I overheard.”

Concerned, you straighten. “Uh, okay. What was he saying?”

“He was talking to your old boss – Pierre? Apparently, he’s calling around and warning people not to hire you. Said that you stole from him, or something. Not sure if it’s the same story for everyone, or if he’s making up shit up in the moment.”

Your jaw nearly drops. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” The guy’s smile turns wry. “I’m assuming none of it’s true. You don’t look like the thieving type, but the boss is running a business, I guess. Can’t be too careful.”

“Right.” You pause, then shake your head. “I didn’t steal, just so you know. A guest was an ass to me, so I dumped water on him – on accident,” you add.

Laughing loudly, the guy clutches his bicycle. “Wow, I’d love to hear that story. Especially the part about it being an accident,” he adds with a wink, sticking out his hand. “I’m Wooyoung.”

“Y/N,” you say as you shake. “So. Pierre is calling people?”

Brow furrowed, Wooyoung pulls back. “Yeah. Sorry I had to tell you like this. Wasn’t sure whether you’d want to know, but figured I should.”

You push yourself to stand. “I do appreciate it. Thanks for telling me.”

“No problem.” Sheepish, he glances down the road. “I should actually get back if I don’t want to lose my job. Delivery,” he explains, nodding towards his bike. “Need the extra income.”

“Makes sense,” you say, forcing a smile. “Good luck.”

Wooyoung nods, then pauses in a way that feels familiar. He’s checking you out, you realize after a moment. Although flattering, it’s instantly followed by a rush of guilt. Wooyoung is cute and in another life, you’d say yes, but in every life, it’s hard not to want Jungkook.

Waving goodbye, Wooyoung climbs onto his bike and takes off. You head in the opposite direction, needing to put distance between you and Ramen-rama. If Pierre is shit-talking you across town, you’ll be hard-pressed to find another job at a restaurant. Owners are notoriously clicky and for how many restaurants there are, there are surprisingly few out of the loop.

Maybe you can ask the coffee shop if they’re hiring. Although you should probably avoid work with water for a bit. This drops your mood, your thoughts turning desperate. You’re so deep in an anxiety spiral, you nearly run into an open door on the sidewalk.

Jerking upright, you stare at faded, golden letters. Creative Courage is spelled in looping cursive over a frosted window. Art supplies fill a display case, while the other is clustered with art of all kinds. You spot sculpture, pottery, painting, and sketches before losing count.

Before you can chicken out, you push open the door.

Stepping in, tiny bells chime to announce your arrival. Soft, ambient light fills the space – a shop that’s two-fold, you realize now that you’re inside. The front sells art supplies while in the back stands a classroom. There’s a class in session now, several artists seated on stools before easels.

“Can I help you?” someone asks, stepping into your path.

Blinking, you focus. “Um, no – thank you! I was just looking.”

“Of course!” The woman beams, reaching up to arrange a clip in magenta hair. “That’s what we’re here for. If you do change your mind, let me know – we’ve got art supplies out front, and classes are held daily in back.”

“Classes?”

“Mhm.” Crossing her arms, the woman nods. “Mostly still life and figure drawing, but we’re hoping to add some more soon. Are you an artist?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

Immediately, you stiffen. “No. At least, not right now.”

Her lips twitch. “Not sure it works like that, unfortunately. Who you are can’t come on and off like a jacket. I like that, though,” she admits with a laugh. “Might borrow it the next time the muses aren’t singing.”

You can’t help but grin. “Exactly.”

Her head tilts, surveying you with unnerving intensity. “My name is Taryn. I co-own this place with my partner, Micah. They’re the one teaching right now.”

“Oh,” you say, somewhat wistful. “That’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Her smile widens. “So, what was your preferred medium? You know, ‘back when’ you were an artist.”

You can’t help but laugh when Taryn lifts her hands to use air quotes. Some people have a way of making you feel included in their jokes, and Taryn is one of them. She teases you in a conspiratorial way, letting you know she understands. People often call art a labor of love, which can be true but more often, it’s a complicated tangle of love, pain and frustration.

“Watercolors,” you admit. “And my name is Y/N.”

Her eyes brighten. “We’ve been meaning to add a watercolor class for ages. Some of our regulars have asked, but Micah and I are both hopeless. Potter,” she explains, gesturing at herself. “And Micah prefers charcoal. Sometimes sculpture.”

“Wow,” you say. “Those are very different.”

“You don’t say.” Taryn laughs. “Micah likes to keep things fresh. What about you? Have you ever taught be– hang on,” she blurts, her eyes going wide. “Did you say that your name is Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N?”

Your cheeks heat. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Whirling, Taryn hustles through the front room to duck behind a counter. Digging through several drawers, she pulls out a print to hurry back.

“Is this you?” she demands, thrusting this in your face.

Even cross-eyed and close, you recognize your most popular work. A watercolor series on the majesty and destruction of sea storms. Looking at this makes you feel raw, and so you look up.

“Yep,” you admit. “That’s me.”

Pulling back, Taryn looks at the print reverently. “You’re amazing. Micah was trying to do something similar but couldn’t capture the right feeling.”

Shuffling awkwardly, you shrug. You’ve never felt as though your work deserved acclaim, although it’s nice to know the series resonated with others. One of your favorite aspects of art is how it can be intensely personal but once shared, takes on a universal quality. You find it constantly surprising; how many people seem to share the same burdens.

“Seriously.” Taryn shakes her head wryly. “If you ever wanted to teach a class, let me know. We’d be lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you,” you say, stuffing both hands in your pockets.

You hadn’t realized your desperation was obvious. Or possibly Taryn is just incredibly good at reading others. Truthfully, it’s been a while since you stepped foot in the art world. Even before dating Jungkook, you felt your passion lagging. It’s been a long time since you wanted to connect with your inner voice, although merely the act of being here calls the tide in your blood.

Dangerous.

Recognizing this, you reinforce an inner wall. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I’m not really looking for something right now.”

Taryn nods. “Sure. If things change though, just let me know – before next week,” she adds. “We try to publish our class schedule on the first of each month.”

“Will do. Thanks, again.”

“Anytime!” Beaming, Taryn spins to restock the next shelf.

Realizing your conversation is finished, you continue down the next aisle. The shop’s materials are superb, and your fingers are itching to reach out and touch. Reaching the front, you notice a quote painted over the register: Creativity takes courage – Henry Matisse.

You stare at this for a while, unsure why it hurts. Courage isn’t something you’ve thought about in a long time. When you were younger, you pushed people away because it was safe, but now you find yourself wondering who was that for – others? Or yourself?

Maybe the reason you keep yourself separate is because you are afraid people might leave you. Like Katrina. Or Elliot. Or even your dad.

Suppressing magic was hard at the start. Everything about it felt counter-intuitive but you reasoned doing the right thing often took effort. This is what you told yourself, anyways. It made said effort more bearable.

When you first began painting, the relief you felt was immense. After so long spent ignoring your emotions, you found a space to be free. Your series about the sea was oddly therapeutic, working through complicated emotions; your love for the ocean, coupled with fear of its wild beauty. Similar clashes within yourself about magic. And always, always, the desire for more.

For a few hours though, those feelings could be a part of you. Magic could be a part of you, so long as you remained in control – and with brush in hand, you were.

Only now does it occur to you that maybe, this wasn’t healthy. Maybe you shouldn’t feel the need to compartmentalize, as though certain pieces of yourself can only exist in certain spaces.

Tearing your gaze from the words, you exit the shop and gently shut the door. Pulling your jacket tighter, you head down the sidewalk and let your thoughts drift. Jungkook only saw you paint once, but the memory is hard to forget.

You had just started dating, barely past the stage of calling him ‘boyfriend.’ The constant influx of emotion was difficult to manage, and after a few weeks, you were exhausted. Most of your time spent without Jungkook was seated before your canvas. After one particularly frustrating session, you set down your paint to stubbornly stare at the canvas.

A throat cleared from behind.

Startled, you spun and found Jungkook standing there. His gaze moved quickly to yours, but you realized he’d been staring at your half-finished work. Normally, you felt panic at the thought of someone seeing a work in progress. That night though, the look on Jungkook’s face eased your concerns. Awe; pure and clear.

Yanking down giant, over-ear headphones, you hastily stood.

Jungkook lurched forward. “No!” he blurted, only to halt. “I mean – you don’t have to cover the painting. I liked it.”

He seemed flustered, which made you slightly flustered, but you took a slow step sideways. Eager, Jungkook’s gaze traversed the canvas.

Eventually, he looked back. “Sorry about that,” Jungkook said and walked closer. Warm hands found your waist. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“How did you get in?” you laughed, burying your face in his chest.

“Seokjin.” He paused. “Did he not say I was here? I texted you a half hour ago, but you didn’t respond. I figured I’d stop by, and Seokjin said to come up.”

Softening, you made a mental note to chastise Seokjin later. Tightening your arms, you lifted your head and smiled.

“So.” Jungkook glanced over your shoulder. “This is you.”

This sent a thrill down your spine. He spoke as though he’d known you before, but only on a surface level and now, he understood. Jungkook knew your art was part of you, as much as your heart or your soul. You had often felt the same, but never said so out loud.

Magic swelled, and you pushed it back down, but it was difficult. When Jungkook bent his head, you forgot to be scared and let yourself feel. The brush of his lips. The tightening of his hands. The current within you, swelling against your highest walls.

Loudly, someone knocked on the door. Breathless, you jerked backwards and found Seokjin in the door.

“Hey.” He jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Wanted to let you know our dishwasher broke. Flooded the kitchen.” Pointed, Seokjin looked at you. “Everything is all good, but I’m calling a plumber tomorrow. Carry on.”

In a flurry of embarrassment, you abruptly ended the evening and sent Jungkook home.

Remembering how the night ended, you stifle a groan and walk faster. Once more, you couldn’t control your magic and put Jungkook in danger. Hardly the creative courage Henry Matisse imagined.

You always assumed suppressing your magic was the best choice. But the best choice for who? Certainly not for you, who lives isolated, inert and in fear of yourself. Your dad used to call your magic a gift, but it’s been a long time since you felt that way.

This memory brings with it a sharp stab of pain. Since your dad passed, fear has replaced any joy your magic brought. Fear of falling victim to the same fate he did. Of others’ rejection. Of failing to live up to your father’s example.

You have little doubt that if your dad could see you now, he’d be confused by your actions.

You push others away in the name of saving them. Again, you think of Jungkook and for once you allow it. The entire way home, you wish that he’d call.

He doesn’t though and eventually, you stop hoping.

By Friday, the threads keeping your feelings at bay are nearly worn through. Intrusive thoughts push against fragile bonds, threatening the haven you’ve carefully crafted.

With more force than needed, you toss clothing into the washer. Your usual laundromat was closed, forcing you to walk five blocks to the next one. Sweaty from suddenly sweltering temperatures, your arms sore from the hamper, the situation does nothing to improve an already crappy mood.

Wiping your forehead with one arm, you slam the door and press start. The machine whirs to life, laundry tumbling in a way reminiscent of your inner turmoil. Up, you did the right thing by ending it with Jungkook. He’ll swiftly move on and find someone else. Down – but you don’t want him to find someone else. You want him to find you.

Teeth gritted, you turn and grab your hamper from the floor. Placing this on the washer, you wearily tug your cell phone from your pocket. By the time you walked home, you’d have to come back, leaving you with forty minutes to kill. You could read more of the book you just started. Or submit your resume to a couple of restaurants.

After yesterday’s disaster at Ramen-rama though, the interview process has stalled. Instead, you’ve found yourself thinking more about Creative Courage. For a brief moment, you even walked into the third bedroom to paint.

You immediately walked back out again, but merely the act was more than you’ve done in months. The thought of creation brought mostly panic, since it’d involve you being honest. Something you haven’t been with yourself in a while.

Because if you were honest, you know what you’d find. You would regret breaking up with Jungkook. Maybe even find that, deep down, you want to be selfish. You want to keep dating him, even if Jungkook gets hurt in the end.

After all, you saw what loving an Elemental did to your mom.

Putting down your phone, you scan the laundromat and find your gaze catching on the person in the next aisle.

No. No, no, no – absolutely not.

The universe – or whoever’s writing your story – must be cruel and unusual, since standing beside you is Jungkook. You’d recognize his head anywhere. Straightening from his hamper, Jungkook turns to face you and goes still.

Eyes wide, he seems stunned until someone slams shut their dryer. Both of you jump, breaking eye contact and time seems to reset. Pressing start on his machine, Jungkook grabs his gym bag and hoists it over one shoulder. He strides towards the exit, halfway there when you spring into action.

Dashing towards him, you cut him off at the dryers. Footsteps slowing, Jungkook meets your gaze with visible confusion.

“Sorry,” he says, tugging his gym bag behind him. The thick, grey strap of it cuts across his hoodie. “I was just leaving. I can come back later if you want to finish your load.”

Again, he tries to move past you, but something inside of you snaps. You aren’t sure what possesses you, but somehow, find your hand gripping his sleeve.

Startled, Jungkook stares.

Equally swift, you withdraw. “I, uh…”

Head spinning, all your words seem to fly out the window. Nothing about this was planned. You have no idea what to tell Jungkook besides I’m sorry, and even this would be woefully inadequate without explanation. Which you can’t give.

“You don’t have to leave on my account,” you say at last.

A singular brow lifts. “No? You didn’t seem to think that way on Wednesday.”

You suppress a wince, although you try your best to hide it. “I know,” you admit. “It’s just… this is your usual laundromat. I don’t want you to leave because of me. I wouldn’t even be here, expect the one near me is broken and –”

“Got it,” he interrupts, the words tight. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have to be.”

Swallowing hard, you stare down at your shoes. You know you deserve this, but it’s just so hard to see Jungkook hurting. He deserves to be happy, not wasting his energy on hating you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Your eyes start to burn, and you squeeze them shut to prevent a reaction. You absolutely cannot cry in front of Jungkook. Not when you’re the one who started this; the very last thing you want him to feel for you is pity.

“Hey.” Something in his tone shifts, and you hear Jungkook step closer. When you open your eyes, he watches you intently. “What’s wrong?”

A tiny fissure within your chest splinters.

Anyone else could have asked those words, and you would have been able to answer. For Jungkook to do so is unthinkable. You’re the one who ruined this. The one who hurt him, who ended this and still, Jungkook is concerned about your well-being.

“I was fired on Sunday,” you say in a rush. “Before I came to see you.”

He blinks only once before his face hardens. “Before you broke up with me, you mean.”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, Jungkook glances away. His expression is taut, and you feel a sharp pang of envy. It’s so easy to read Jungkook. You’ve spent so long hiding your emotions, it strikes you as luxurious how easily he feels.

A muscle in his jaw tics. “Y/N,” Jungkook says, turning back. “What are you doing?”

“What… do you mean?”

Fear spikes your heart, wondering if Jungkook has finally pieced the facts together. Maybe he saw more than you realized at the coffee shop. Maybe he finally knows what you are.

“Why are you… torturing me?” he clarifies, a slight rasp to his voice. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You were fired? That sucks, but it doesn’t make this okay. It doesn’t make us okay,” he adds, gesturing to the air between you.

“I – I know,” you stammer, nearly blurting out something you’ll regret.

Like that you’re an Elemental teetering close to the edge. One who can feel every pipe, every spin cycle within the walls of this laundromat. All of them churning, pulsing, begging for your magic to release the water inside.

“You know?” Jungkook stares at you, incredulous. “Again, Y/N – what do you want from me?”

Since you started talking, you’ve moved several steps closer. Another breath, another reach and you’d be in his arms. Glancing down, you notice how quickly Jungkook’s chest rises and falls.

He’s afraid, you realize. Jungkook’s fear isn’t the same one as yours, though. He isn’t afraid that you’ll see him, but rather that you’ll destroy him.

Realizing this, a barrier within you crumbles. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, somewhat desperate.

“You keep saying that.” Determined, he steps closer and somehow, your hand entwines with his to press against his chest. “You keep saying you don’t want this, but you won’t tell me why. Won’t tell me anything, Y/N – you were fired, and this is the first time I’m hearing it.”

“I couldn’t tell you!” you blurt. “I can’t explain it, Jungkook, but I couldn’t tell you when it happened.”

His gaze sharpens. “Then, yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe we are better off broken up.”

Releasing you, Jungkook brushes past you and heads for the exit. You stare blankly at the wall before you, your whole world caving in as your head starts to spin. Magic seeps beyond your fractured walls, flooding your veins in desperate search for an exit.

“That’s not true,” you protest, spinning around. “I’ve told you more than anyone else in my life, Jungkook. I’ve let you in in ways no one else has.”

Jungkook stiffens at the door, his entire body taut. For a single, long moment, it seems as though he might reconsider but the longer you stand there, the more you watch the fight drain from the lines of his shoulders.

“I don’t doubt that’s true,” he says, hand hovering above the doorknob. “But that’s not the same as letting me in.”

He starts to go.

Everything around you becomes white noise.

When you were ten, you passed a famous dam on one of your cross-country moves. Your mom took you to see it, swinging your hand while entering the viewing platform.

The moment you saw it, you went wholly still. Trillions of gallons of water, trapped behind concrete, constantly pushing but unable to break. It felt like your magic. Raw, untamed power contained by a solid wall. You stared for longer than any other visitor, until your mom pulled your arm and said you should leave.

The entire way to the car, your mom was silent and once you were buckled in, she twisted around to see you. “Listen to me, Y/N,” she said, her voice serious. “That dam will only work if the wall holds. If the wall breaks, do you know what happens?”

Silent, you shook your head.

“The water will flood the whole valley. Everyone in its path, all the forest – they’d be gone. The wall can’t break, or bad things happen. Do you understand me?”

Solemn, you nodded because even then, you understood. Although your magical dam was intangible, it held equal importance. You had to hold in the magic, otherwise bad things would happen. So long as the wall was in place, you were safe.

Now though, you squeeze your eyes tightly as the wall starts to crumble.

Emotions break with the force of a tidal wave, racing ahead and drowning all in its path. Memories you thought were long buried continue to rise, crushing you further. Your walls are destroyed in a matter of seconds.

You remember your dad, kissing you on the head before leaving the house. Katrina’s stricken expression when the door shut in her face. Jungkook, asking you what he’d done wrong again.

Each memory drags you under, and you shudder against the onslaught. It takes everything you have to remain standing while your restraint dissolves.

Hands grip your arms.

Surprised, your eyes fly open to find Jungkook before you. His neck muscles strain, yelling to be heard over thundering water. You try your best to focus, to rein your magic back in – only to realize with horror, it might be too late.

The laundromat around you is in chaos. Several ceiling pipes have burst, water crashing down in torrents of water. Already, waves lap at your ankles. Noise filters back in, flickering before solidifying to something substantial.

People are screaming, abandoning their hampers in an attempt to get out. The door has stuck though, unable to open under the onslaught of water. Jungkook yells again, and this time you hear him.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, close to your face.

You stare upward, stupefied. Another pipe bursts, and you think that was you, but it’s hard to be sure. Hard to understand which parts are in control and which parts are not. What particular emotion is holding the reins at any moment.

Determination replaces fear in his face, and Jungkook bends before you have time to blink. In an instant, you’re tossed over his shoulder. A yelp escapes, upside-down but he’s already wading through the aisle of washers.

Jungkook shouts at people to move, but no one is listening. After a moment, you feel him exhale and surge forward. Although you can’t see, the people seem to be moving, so Jungkook must appear confident.

Grasping the door, he pulls on it, hard. Nothing happens. Exhaling, Jungkook grips your waist tighter and mutters, “Hold on.”

You don’t have time to ask why, since he yanks harder and the entire frame shudders. Jungkook does this again and another pipe bursts, drawing your gaze. By the time you look back, the door has budged an inch and water is pouring out. With a final wrench, Jungkook yanks open the door.

People shove past him, rushing into the street with the tide of water. Spinning around, Jungkook shields you with his frame from the wet crush of bodies. His grip never wavers, feet anchored to the ground as though they’ve rocks themselves.

With each breath, your pulse slows until finally, you locate the faint threads of magic. Before, you felt too much at once. The crush was overwhelming but now, you manage to breach the surface. For the first time, you see your panic influencing the tide.

Realizing this, you reach inward and try to – turn. With great effort, you identify the source of your power and disconnect. Water in the ceiling slows to a trickle, and then, nothing.

Exhaling against your neck, Jungkook’s hand moves lower.

You can’t help but shiver. “Jungkook?” you murmur into his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Could you… you know, set me down?”

“Oh.”

Somewhat sheepish, Jungkook lowers you to face him. He doesn’t step away, and neither do you. If this is the last time you see him, you want to be selfish and make it as long as possible.

He stares back at you, waterdrops caught between his lashes. In the background, water continues to drip from a pipe. The soft plink-plink echoes the thud of your heart.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Jungkook’s hands remain on your waist, his touch scrambling all semblance of sanity. You aren’t sure how to answer without being honest.

Truthfully, you’re not okay.

An okay person wouldn’t break up with their boyfriend and then, six days later throw themselves in their path. An okay person wouldn’t be hiding their magic, they wouldn’t be lying to the person they love and most of all, wouldn’t continue to place that same person in danger.

Silent, you survey the aftermath of your outburst. Deep down, your magic itches in response to your panic. Seeping outward, it seeks to mold to the fear, but you manage to stop it. Something about the wall being gone makes your power less alien. No longer an unknown variable, but a constant.

“No,” you exhale. Steeling yourself, you take a step backwards. “No, Jungkook, I’m not okay. I… this is exactly why you should stay away from me. Bad things happen, and I can’t control them. I’m so sorry.”

Again, you brace yourself for his anger, but it never comes. Jungkook is unusually quiet, head cocked to one side. He sees right through you, a sensation unnerving enough that you drop your gaze.

“I should go,” you repeat, stepping around him. Reaching your washer, you hastily unload your soggy clothing. “I have to go.”

Jungkook says nothing, although you feel his gaze on the back of your head. Hefting your hamper, you slam the door shut, and turn. The water level at your ankles has dropped, no more than a centimeter remaining in the room.

Sirens wail in the distance, likely on their way to investigate. Your stomach lurches, recognizing the cost of your magic. As soon as possible, you should reach out to Seokjin. His company might be able to cover the damage if the laundromat can’t.

Nearing the exit, you look anywhere but at Jungkook’s face. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, unsure what else to say. “Really, I am.”

Again, he lets you move past. Water rushes out when you open the door, seeking the street, then the gutter. Hurrying past, you can’t shake the feeling something has changed.

Not only with you and Jungkook, but with you and your magic. Silent, you prod the place deep within from which your magic stems. You’re used to a wall, feeling closed off but now, it seems your mom was right.

Once shattered, the dam can’t be rebuilt.

A weightlessness accompanies this that you didn’t anticipate. Despite the terror of your outburst, there was a moment near the end when you stopped it. When you felt what was wrong and controlled your outburst of magic. You haven’t done that before.

The thought is followed by regret, remembering Jungkook. When you broke up, it was supposed to save him. Instead, you’ve only put him – and yourself – in greater danger. Maybe because you’ve continued to see him. Everything would be fine if you moved or kept your distance.

But then, another part of you wonders if you were wrong from the start. Maybe instead of providing distance, you should have come closer. Should have allowed Jungkook to decide whether he wanted to stay. After all, today, he experienced the worst of your powers, and he didn’t run. If anything, he moved closer.

Suddenly exhausted, you hail a cab. The driver grumbles at your wet clothes but allows you inside, and you tip him extra upon reaching your place. What you should do is find another laundromat and finish your load, but there’s an itch in your fingers you haven’t felt in some time.

Dropping your hamper at the door, you shutter yourself within the third bedroom. Not allowing yourself to second-guess, you sit down at your easel and pick up a brush.

For the first time in a long time, you allow the magic to flow. You paint.

 © kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

“A new faucet! I figured since you still need to fix my leaky pipes you could just…install this for me too?” Your voice is hopeful, almost as if you think there’s a chance he’d say no. 

“I’ve been trying to fix it for weeks and you keep telling me no.” His eyes are playfully narrowed at you. 

“I know, but that’s because this was back ordered. But it’s here now, so can you? Please.”

He sighs, looking away from you as he pretends to contemplate it, giggling when you whine and round the table to grip his shoulders. Even as you wrap your arms around him and beg, he continues to hum in thought, not caving until you’re leaning up and gingerly kissing his jaw and finally his lips. 

“Mm, you know just how to convince me huh?” he mumbles against your lips, feeling you smile as he kisses you back. 

“Kisses are your weakness?” You giggle when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. 

“No, just you.” His smile is cheeky as he admits this, giving you another squeeze before you’re pulling back with a cute laugh. 

Jungkook had taken it upon himself to just keep a tool box at your place, leaving it in your coat closet for emergencies. He had gone ahead and told you what every tool in there did, not like it meant anything to you, knowing you wouldn’t be reaching in there after how horrible your attempt at mounting your television had gone. 

This was Jungkook’s emergency tool box, not yours. So, after a quick trip to his truck parked down below, grabbing a few things he knew he’d need, he’s grabbing his toolbox out of your closet and getting right to work. You typically let him work on his own now, busying yourself with cleaning up your apartment, hanging up the newest photostrip you both took last night at your favorite bar and admiring it on the fridge with a smile. But once your to-do list runs out you can’t help it when your feet lead you to your bathroom, slowly pushing open the door as you lean on the frame and observe your boyfriend. 

He had managed to remove the old faucet, cleaning up the caulking and any weird water spots before replacing it with the cute brass swan faucet you had scored. He is crouched on his knees now, trying his best to fit under the small cabinet to properly screw everything in, cursing slightly under his breath when he lifts his head and bangs it on the wood. 

“I think you’re too big to fit under there babe,” you giggle, enjoying the pointed look he gives you as he straightens himself back out. “What if you try doing it from under?”

His brows pinch on his forehead as he looks at your floor, checking the spacing between the sink and the wall across from it, deeming it wide enough for him to lay on his back to get a better point of view. As long as he kept his knees slightly bent he could definitely fit, he’ll just have to keep his light on his chest to be able to see, unless, “Can you do me a favor, baby?”

Your face lights up at the question, nodding in confirmation instantly, already stepping into the bathroom for whatever he might need. 

“Hold the light for me? I need both my hands to finish this off.” You could definitely do that. That’s literally the only way you knew how to help. So without another thought you’re grabbing the flashlight for him and squatting beside his body, angling the light to where you think he might need it. 

Jungkook chuckles lightly under his breath when the beam of light hits the wrong spot, his large hand coming out to grip yours and angle it a little better, making you partially lean over him. 

“Jungkook, I can’t keep this position for too long,” you laugh out, your knees already burning from the weird angle. He peers out and laughs too, well attempting to before it slowly dies in his throat when you get the grand idea of swinging your leg over his body and straddling his hips. It’s clear your thoughts are pure as you smile at how much easier it is this way, but Jungkook was a weak weak man, and the pretty flowy dress you were wearing made it so he could feel you directly on top of him, only the thin fabric of your underwear and his sweats separating you two. 

“Better right?” you wonder, ever so softly putting more pressure on him as you settle, your free hand gently resting on his stomach, thumb mindlessly rubbing along the thin sliver of skin exposed as his shirt rode up. When he simply stares at you, absolutely dazed, you tilt your head and give him a pout that makes him want to sit up and capture your lips in a kiss. Luckily, he snaps out of it, thankfully saving his poor forehead from receiving another awful slam against the cabinet. 

“Much better,” he forces out, letting his head fall back to resume his work. His eyes are focused on tightening the screws holding the new faucet in place, but then you’re adjusting your position and his eyes can’t help but look back down at you. He knows you’re not being intentional, but the pressure of you resting on his slowly hardening cock was going to be the death of him. Jungkook really didn’t have anyone to blame but himself, getting riled up so easily thanks to the horny lovesick cocktail he always had fogging up his brain around you. 

“Baby,” he groans out, squeezing his eyes shut as he leans back and lets his palm fall over his face. “You gotta stop moving.”

“I’m sorry. Am I not pointing the light where you need it?” Your brows are furrowed on your forehead, pure confusion clouding your features as Jungkook gives you another glance. He has a very familiar look on his face, a look reserved for when he was inches away from you before pouncing on you and turning you into an absolute mess. 

That’s when you notice it, the firmness pressed up against your core as you slowly settle back. Your eyes widen briefly, fighting back a sly smile from spreading onto your lips when you realize just how easily affected he is by you. 

Maybe it's cruel to relish in it, the mischief already brewing in your mind as you give an experimental roll of your hips. Jungkook groans instantly, brows pinching on his forehead as he glances down at where you connect, words dying on his tongue when you roll forward again before he has a chance to utter anything out. 

“Focus on what you’re doing,” you murmur, head tilted slightly as you smile down at him. Jungkook refuses to look away, his brain fighting him on what to do. He knew he could easily turn this around, scoop you up and fuck you right on this bathroom floor. But why was this so hot to him?

All of his thoughts turn into mush when you reach forward, fingers cupping his cheeks as you forcefully turn his head to look at the faucet again. His cock twitches beneath you as you speak once more. “Focus, baby.”

Oh yeah, he’s whipped. 

You hum in content when he does just that, hands a little shaky as he resumes his work and attempts to act unaffected. The act only works for a brief moment, his hands faltering when he feels you shift around, your fingers dipping into the waistband of his sweats before you tug them down. Jungkook’s breath shudders as he shuts his eyes and just waits, knowing he couldn’t look down at you because the temptation would be too much. 

A small gasp hits the air when you see he’s bare underneath his sweats, his cock already hard and leaking. Jungkook hisses when your hand wraps around him, giving him a gentle tug and swiping your thumb along the tip. He only caves and looks down again when he feels the way you press his length against his stomach, curiosity getting the best of him, allowing him the sight of you tugging your panties to the side before you’re settling back onto him. 

“Fuck,” he groans out, seeing your pussy lips spread around him as you rock along his length, tip of his cock nudging against your clit perfectly. The view only lasts a minute before you’re letting your dress float back down around you, the playful look in your eyes telling him he needed to focus on his job. 

Jungkook knows he’s good at his job, and he’s proud of it, knowing he always does his best to do everything perfectly. But he usually doesn’t have the prettiest girl he’s ever known on top of him, hell bent on making him cum as he works. So he admits he might not be doing the absolute best job he can, going through the steps as fast as possible, trying his best to focus on something other than how fucking amazing he feels. 

Your hand trembles a bit as you continue to hold the light for him, small little moans of pleasure filling up the room as you continue to roll your hips, your other hand resting firmly on his chest to hold you steady. 

“I can feel you making a mess,” you giggle, knowing there would be a puddle of precum on his tummy, smearing along your folds with each rock forward.  

Jungkook just grunts in response, jaw clenched tightly as he finishes up tightening the last screw. With one final check, he’s smiling underneath the sink, allowing his tools to clang beside him as he grips your hips with both palms, enjoying the way you gasp in surprise. 

“My turn,” he breathes out, tongue prodding along his cheek as he effortlessly shimmies out of his position. Your eyes are wide as you take in the look on his face, feeling your chest fluttering in excitement as he easily sits up, scooping an arm around you as he stands up straight. 

“That was fast,” you breathe out, the slight tingling of nerves crawling up your spine, knowing Jungkook didn’t love being teased like that—not without knowing he’d get a chance to pounce back at least. 

“I had some helpful motivation,” he mumbles, turning you around and settling behind you. His nose nudges along your head as he bends forward, soft breath felt against your ear as his hands slide up your thighs beneath your dress. Your skin tingles as his fingers dance along the edge of your wet panties, teasingly tugging at them as he presses his hardened length against your ass. 

“Jungkook, we’re meeting up with your friends in a little bit,” you breathe out, voice trembling slightly as your hands fumble against the sink. 

“I know, but you started it.” He smiles now, his eyes looking forward to meet your gaze in the mirror above your sink, brow cocked up. “Do you want me to finish it?”

He can see the way your face is lit up, lower lip held captive by your teeth as you gently bite down, eyes already glossed over as you mindlessly nod. Of course you want him to finish what you started. 

“I need words, pretty girl,” he murmurs, both palms continuing to glide along your skin, enjoying the slight tremble he feels, how your body reacts to him instantly. His smile is teasing, lip curling up as he breathes out a laugh when you can only shudder as you try to get your brain to cooperate. 

“Please. I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is low, raspy around each syllable, already on your way to being ruined before he has a chance to do anything. Perfect. 

“Oh, I get a please? So polite,” he jests, peppering a kiss to your temple as his hands finally hook into your underwear and yank them down. When they pool around your feet you kick them out of the way, instinctually spreading your legs and pressing your ass further into him. Jungkook hums in content, his gaze falling down as he flips up the bottom of your dress, seeing the soft skin of your ass pressing against his length. 

He guides his length between your thighs once more, resting perfectly against your sodden folds as he shallowly ruts forward. You moan softly as the tip of his cock nudges your clit, aching for his touch. 

“I’ll always do whatever you want.” You know this is a promise from him, having experienced how true to his word he is during the last few months. All you can do is grip onto the counter to prepare yourself when you feel him start to move back. Your gaze is locked onto his reflection, seeing the way he bites onto his lip when he grabs your ass, gripping onto the flesh for his own satisfaction before delivering a swift slap, smiling at the small mewl you release. 

You watch with bated breath as he grips the base of his cock, feeling the tip of it pressing into your soaked entrance, teasingly circling around it just to see the way your walls beg for him. He loved it too much, thoughts getting hazier with each small moan that escapes you. The bulbous head of his cock slowly inches forward, your pussy tightening around his tip and making him moan under his breath before pulling out entirely. It was the same motion he loved to do, teasing himself and getting a kick out of the delayed pleasure. 

“Jungkook,” you whine out, giving him a pout when he looks up at your reflection. He mumbles out an apology that he clearly doesn’t mean judging by the smile on his face, but the way he finally sinks into you makes up for it. The satisfying stretch that follows is something that will never get old, and the small gasp he lets out when he bottoms out lets you know he feels the same. 

Jungkook can only shut his eyes as he lets the feeling wash over him, his palms gripping your hips tightly when he feels your walls pulse around his length. He could live and die buried inside of you, always wanting to hear the soft moans of his name and the small whimper you release when he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans out, eyes fluttering open to stare at the way your arousal coats his cock, shiny essence glimmering in the bathroom light. His mouth drops open in awe, stomach tensing up at the sight, hands gripping you harder when he sees the way you arch your back for more. 

“You were fucking made for me.”

His words make your body warm up, spoken so sweetly in such a lewd context, only intensifying when he speeds up the thrust of his hips, bending forward to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Tell me,” he breathes out, slight begging dripping from his tone, always so desperate to hear how much you wanted him. His hand comes up to grip your face, fingers cupping your jaw to turn you to look at him. The look on his face makes more arousal gush out of you, seeing the pinch between his brows, eyes swimming with desire as they float between your eyes and your lips. 

“I was—fuck—“ you keen at a particular thrust, eyes rolling back momentarily. “I was made for you. Only you.”

“Mm, good girl,” he sighs, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. You moan against his lips when he snaps his hips forward, just hard enough to have you seeing stars behind your closed lids. His fingers rub your cheeks, gently coaxing your mouth open as he flicks his tongue along the seam of your lips, groaning in approval when you allow him entrance. 

Your arm reaches back to grip his face, needing to touch him, to let your fingers slip into his hair and yank as your tongues flick against each other. Jungkook groans unabashedly when you gently suck his tongue, heavy eyes opening up to stare at you when you pull away briefly. 

“We gotta be quick.” It’s spoken mainly to himself, a reminder that he couldn’t take his sweet time with you today, knowing there was a ticking clock telling you both to hurry up. He’s tempted to say fuck it, to blow off the plans with his friends and ravish you the way he always wanted to. But he knows how much you were looking forward to it so he sucks it up, deciding he’ll just have to make up for it tonight.

“Yeah, quick. Quick is fine,” you shudder, eyes focused on the way his lips shine, slightly swollen from your kissing. His tongue swipes at his piercing as he smiles when he notices your dazed stare, giving you another kiss to satisfy you before turning your head back to stare at your reflection once more. 

“Don’t worry baby. I’ll still take care of you.” His head presses against yours, staring directly into the mirror. “Want you to be good and watch yourself for me though. Can you do that?”

His hips have yet to slow their rhythm, the wet smack of your skin connecting still filling up the bathroom. It makes you feel dizzy, too transfixed on it and the way he just looks at you. His smile is as sweet as can be, his fingers coming to your lips, humming in content when you open your mouth to allow them in, coating them in your spit just the way he liked it before pulling them out. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” He mumbles out more praise against your head, whispering it into your ear, each raspy syllable turning you into a puddle against him. Your eyes are glued to your reflection, seeing the way he kisses down the side of your neck, sucking on your skin until he’s satisfied with the mark he leaves. His trail isn’t complete until he’s yanking down the top of your dress, watching in fascination as your tits spilled out. A choked moan fills the air when he pinches a sensitive bud, spit covered fingers rolling along it, smiling when you jut your chest out further for more. 

“You said quick, Jungkook,” you pant out, having an internal battle just like he was. It was easy for him to get side tracked though, enjoying the teasing, taking it slow until you were crying for it, bringing you right to the edge just for you to stay there until he thought it was time. You can see his mind floating now as he grabs your boob, admiring the way it fills up his palm, his hips slowing down ever so slightly to really enjoy the way you clench around him with each yank of your nipple. 

“Sorry baby.” He’s back now, eyes sharpening up as he looks at you again. You can see something brewing in his mind and it fills you with the tingle of nerves, not knowing what he could be thinking. “I’ll be quick.”

Before you have time to think, his hand slides down to scoop around your thigh, hauling up one of your legs, fucking you deeper and laughing when you squeal at the feeling. Your mouth is dropped open as you try to take it all in, hands gripping the counter until your knuckles pale, the curve of his cock hitting just right inside of you. 

“Oh fuck, feels so good—you always feel so good.” Your mindless babbles have pride filling his chest, seeing the debauched look on your face reflected back on the mirror. Everything feels hot, the thick air clinging to your skin, leaving you gasping out as he fucks you harder. It has you desperate, leaning back against him, one hand reaching behind you to hold him close despite the position. 

“Yeah? You like the way my cock fills you up, pretty girl?” Jungkook huffs out a breath when you tighten around him in response, his arm situating your thigh until your knee catches on the counter. “Keep that there for me baby.”

You can only nod in response, doing your best to do as he asks despite the rocking of his hips. His hand settles onto the countertop on top of yours, interlocking your fingers together as he speeds up. A mewl reaches his ears when his free palm slides up your supported thigh, under your little dress and meets your clit, soaked in your arousal as he rubs tight circles into it. 

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you gasp out, your hand clinging onto his bicep, digging tiny half moons into his skin. The muscle in your thigh is starting to ache from the position but the overwhelming pleasure you feel is enough for you to ebb it away. 

You can feel the way his arm flexes as he rubs deft circles onto your swollen clit, his harsh breathing hitting your hair, and when you meet his gaze in the mirror it makes your stomach flip. 

“You’re so wet,” he groans out, his fingers glide with ease, applying more pressure so they don’t slip around, sending sparks up your spine. “Always so messy for me. Do you really like me that much?” He teases you, trying to act calm and unaffected but you can see the clenching in his jaw, can feel the way his hips stutter slightly as his orgasm creeps up on him. 

Jungkook moans out your name when your walls tighten around him, body desperately trying to keep him in as your own high approaches. “I can’t help it, you know I love you.” You sigh it out so beautifully it makes his heart skip a beat. You had both said it before but Jungkook would never get tired of hearing it, would never get tired of saying it back to you, not ashamed to admit that a simple four letter word was enough to nearly send him over the edge. 

“I love you more,” he groans out, snapping his hips fluidly, feeling the way you start to tense in his hold as all of it begins to overwhelm you. His eyes are locked onto you, the way your chest hiccups as you gasp out in pleasure, the purple splotch on your neck that he was so proud of, your kiss swollen lips dropped open perfectly, eyes glossed over in ecstasy. You were close, the grip you have on his arm tightening, digging into the dark ink on his skin. 

“I gotta feel you cum baby,” he begs, not wanting to cum before you did, already feeling it too close to hold it off any further. His cock throbs inside of you, each torturous glide of his hips making his eyes fall shut, finger continuing to flick along your clit. You’re nodding against him, head falling back, moans getting breathier until your orgasm finally washes over you. 

“Fuck fuck, oh my god,” you whine out, brows pinching together as you squeeze your eyes shut, bright white flashes behind your lids as the feeling spreads through your limbs. Jungkook groans as he fucks you through it, your walls milking his cock, feeling you gush around his length until it trickles down your legs. 

It’s an absolute mess between your thighs and Jungkook just wants to add to it. His hand finally retreats from your clit when you start to whimper at the overstimulation, his lips peppering kisses onto your shoulder as he lowers your thigh, being as gentle as he could be while pushing you forward. You’re pliant in his grasp, allowing him to bend you over, supporting yourself on the sink while he repositions you enough to be comfortable. 

“C’mon Kookie, want you to make me messier,” you coo out, voice sounding dreamy as the afterglow hits you. He can see the soft smile on your lips as you turn your head to look back at him, fully enjoying the sight of your boyfriend falling apart. 

“Don’t worry baby, I will.” Both hands grip your hips now, his hips snapping forward with enough force to turn your mind into mush. His eyes fall on the way your ass bounces with each thrust, the smack of your skin sounding like music to his ears. He curses under his breath as the familiar feeling starts to spread, hips losing their grace as he gets desperate, surging forward to get as deep as he could before he finally cums too. A guttural moan of your name fills the room as he shoots into you, painting your walls and making you hum in content at the warmth. 

Jungkook fucks into you a few more times, savoring the feeling as he comes down from the high, bending forward to kiss and soothe your skin. His hands glide up your body, gentle touches making goosebumps flare up on your arms. A smile spreads on your face when he interlocks your fingers, gently tugging you back up and wrapping his arms around you. 

He looks like a giddy child in the reflection, face smushed against your head, eyes shut with the biggest smile on his lips. You take this moment in just like you do every other moment with him, shutting your eyes and smiling as you let him hold you, storing the memory in your mind in a space made just for him. 

Jungkook gives your temple another kiss before slowly pulling out of you, the two of you groaning at the feeling. You wince when you feel the globs of cum already leaking out of you, but before you can move he’s already reaching to the side, grabbing a handful of toilet paper to clean up the mess he made before letting your dress fall back down. 

You spin around now, finally seeing him face to face, wrapping your arms around his neck, the sweetest smile on your lips. His hands smooth down the fabric of your dress, fingers fiddling with the material. 

“This dress is really pretty by the way. Makes you look like an angel.” He makes it easy to swoon over him, your heart warming in your chest as you take in his casual compliment. 

“Thank you baby.” You pucker your lips as you lean up and he wastes no time kissing you back.

“I ruined your lip gloss,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, pulling back to stare at your bare lips, no longer shiny with your favorite coconut scented gloss. The pink gloss was long gone, no evidence left on his own lips either. 

“Yeah, you always do.” You give him another kiss before looking at yourself in the mirror and groaning while your fingers attempt to fix your mess of hair. “Jungkook, we’re supposed to meet your friends in half an hour.”

Jungkook laughs as his hand comes up to gently prod at the small hickey he had mindlessly sucked into your neck. It was a teenage habit he would be taking to his grave. “Oh shit, well you better cover that up or they’re gonna make it the topic of conversation for the night.”

You glare at him through the mirror. This would be the first time you’d be meeting his friends, and if they were really the way he described them to be then you know that Taehyung and Jimin would definitely point your hickey out. The tingle of anxiety starts pooling in your stomach as you make a move to exit the bathroom, needing to fix yourself up as quickly as possible. As you walk you realize you’re still naked from the waist down, only the thin fabric of your dress keeping you decent. 

“Oh god. I need my underwear too, I can’t embarrass myself with a hickey and going commando.”

Jungkook beats you to it, bending over to pick up your ruined panties off the floor, looking cocky as he lets them dangle off his finger like a prize. “These are mine.” 

Your cheeks burn as you watch with wide eyes, seeing him bring the material close to his face before he’s tucking them into the pocket of his pants. He looks so proud as he pats them, acting like it was nothing as he turns around to open the bathroom door. It’s not like he gets far though, your hand grabbing his arm and yanking him back with a force he had never experienced.

“Jungkook, you freak! You can’t take those with you.” His eyes are huge as he stares at you, slightly impressed at your determined strength and entirely amused at how scandalized you look.

“Says who?” he guffaws, keeping you at arms length when you try to reach for them. 

“Says me! I’ll tell your friends you’re a panty thief.”

“Please,” he laughs, loud. “They already know! Already roasted me about it a few weeks back.”

“Wait, is this something you do?”

His face falls briefly, realizing he had just confessed to stealing your underwear. “What?”

That makes you laugh now, no longer trying to reach for your panties, letting your head come to rest against his chest as you giggle. This all made sense now, the realization that a few pairs of your underwear had mysteriously gone missing. You had blamed it on your washing machine eating them, had even asked Jungkook to check it or call someone to repair it before the entirety of your underwear drawer went missing. 

Of course it was him.  

“You’re so dirty!”

Jungkook reassures you that you look great for the millionth time in the span of twenty minutes, a smile still on his face as you ask him, “Are you sure?”

“Yes baby. Your lipgloss looks perfect and you can’t even tell that I went to town on your neck.” He laughs when you gently swat his stomach, holding the door open for you as you step into the brewery. Jungkook had said it was his group's favorite place to hang out in, a huge space with games and activities for everyone to enjoy, a wide selection of beers and even a few cocktails that he knew you would prefer. He leads the way with his hand in yours, knowing exactly where they would be. 

When you approach a corner near the dart wall you spot a group of boys, all standing up with dorky smiles on their faces as they clap obnoxiously loud. 

“Oh my god, what are you guys doing?” Jungkook questions, laughing as he gets closer. None of them pay him any attention though, looking right at you as they continue to clap. 

“Wow,” a boy with pale blonde hair sighs out, being the first to stop clapping as the rest slowly follow suit. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet the woman who has turned Jungkookie into an absolute fucking simp.”

That makes you laugh now, hand covering up your mouth as you see them all nod along. Jungkook doesn’t even respond, tonguing his cheek as he tries to hide his smile when he steps away from you to allow you to have your moment.

“Really, it’s honest work but I’m happy to do it. You must be Jimin?”

He gasps, smile growing wider on his face as he looks at Jungkook, finally acknowledging him. “Do you talk about me?”

“Yeah, about how fucking annoying you are,” Jungkook scoffs, playfully rolling his eyes as he takes a seat at the edge of the bench, scooting down enough for you to settle in next to him. 

Your earlier nerves calm a bit as everyone starts to talk, introducing themselves before it flows into easy conversation. Once the drinks start making their rounds you find yourself joining in, laughing along to old stories they reminisce on, playfully teasing one another in a brotherly way that shows you how deep their friendship actually was. 

“Oh no, we need to tell you about that time Jungkook got so high off a pot brownie that he cried at ColorMeMine.” Taehyung can barely say the sentence before he’s cackling as he recalls it, smile wide as can be while he throws his head back. 

“No you absolutely fucking don’t!”

“C’mon, we basically already told her! She just needs all the juicy details.” Yoongi adds on to it, a smug smile on his face as he holds up his beer to take a long sip. 

“What, the juicy details of them threatening to kick me out?” Jungkook groans, covering his face in embarrassment. It wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t properly read the strength of it and before he knew it he was staring at his half painted plate wondering how the hell he got so high and why the fuck everyone else was so calm about it. 

“Well…that, and the video I took of it all,” Jimin whispers out, biting down on his lip as he starts to unlock his phone and scroll through his photo gallery. 

That makes Jungkook’s head snap up, wide eyes giving Jimin a look that you know was meant to be threatening but the other boy finds it funny, giggling as he turns to look at you. 

“I’ll send it to you later. Keep it for emergencies.”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open in betrayal, eyes floating over to you and seeing the way you smile and nod. “Emergencies?”

“Jungkook, don’t worry about it!” You cackle as you gently cup his cheek, feeling it bulge out as he smiles back, enjoying the way you were getting along with his friends—even if it was at his expense. He didn’t care really, he’d dish out all of his embarrassing stories if it made you laugh as hard as it did today. 

“Am I gonna regret introducing you to each other?” he mumbles out, playfully glaring at his friend. 

You look over at Jimin too, the same thoughts brewing in your minds as you laugh together. You could only imagine all the ways you and him would gang up on your boyfriend, pushing his buttons in that way he swore he didn’t like while secretly enjoying it. 

“Oh, definitely.”