Fleur 𐙚

After much consideration I have realized that I need to take a step back from tumblr and focus on myself. So, I will be going on hiatus. The future of my ongoing fanfictions are unknown. I feel like my writing has lost substance and failed to incorporate who I truly am as an individual and that I have slowly dived into a space I never should have. I’m not some concrete intellectual individual I write smut and fanfiction for fun. I’m not truly a writer, I’m surface level. My characters aren’t characters their real people who have been pushed into a small bubble, one that has created a whole new personality for them one that lacks depth and reality. I feel that maybe I lost the part of me that longed to truly be a writer someone that actually loved the art of writing about feelings and the creativity that came with creating your own world. Somehow I ended up writing things I’m not proud of. I’m sorry to disappoint you all but this is how I truly feel and most of all I’m sorry to those I let down as well as those who supported/support me. Goodbye and stay happy and healthy.

Dₑₛcᵣᵢₚₜᵢₒₙ When your boyfriend dumps you, you begin to think it’s the end for you. That is until your mom announces that you’ll be going on summer vacation to your grandmas beach house that you haven’t been to in over a decade. This begins the summer of giving into your deepest and worst desires, all with the help of the local lifeguard, Kim Namjoon.

ₚₐᵢᵣᵢₙg(ₛ): Life Guard!Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Gₑₙᵣₑ(ₛ): Toxic Relationship, FWB

WC: 14K

ʷᵃʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ(ˢ): Semi-Descriptive Drug Usage (Heroin, Weed,Coke, and Prescription drugs), Toxic relationship, Sort of Domestic Violence, Antihero Namjoon, Overdose, ѕєχυαℓℓу єχρℓι¢ιт: Filming, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Nipple stimulation, Protected Sex

H͟i͟g͟h͟ ͟B͟y͟ ͟t͟h͟e͟ ͟B͟e͟a͟c͟h͟ ͟b͟y͟- ͟L͟a͟n͟a͟ ͟D͟e͟l͟ ͟R͟e͟y͟

A/N: Hello I am finally publishing a fic about RM I know it is a little heavy but I hope it’s well written and gets the best points in the song across. I would like to let you know I tried my best to be as accurate and descriptive with the symptoms of drug use and how it can be administered but I have never had any personal experience with drugs so I do formally apologize for the inaccuracies. Anyways let me know any feedback in the comments!! Luv ya!!

“Great...” you say in response to your mother over the phone. Since winter she's been hinting at something you’d have to do over summer vacation, so you shouldn't be surprised, and you're not opposed to it, but you just wish you had more time to prepare.

The last time you’d been to your grandmother's beach house was over a decade ago, back when summers were celebrated and breaks meant family time.

You can somehow vividly recall how often you used to be there. You were so small you had to wear a floatie in the water as your parents kept a watchful eye on you, the distinct summer breeze moving your hair each way as grains of sand stuck between your toes, making it uncomfortable to walk. You and your cousins relentlessly chased each other with water guns in the yard as the aroma of hot dogs slowly curated in the air. But those memories are from long ago, so long ago you can hardly remember the feeling of being so happy to attend that vacation each summer. You swear she had spoken about selling it a little while ago, but now you know she decided against that.

“It’ll be great, ___. There's festivals planned, beach bonfires, a cookout. There’s also beach parties for the young people, and you can bring a friend if you’d like. There’s plenty of space! Maybe you can bring Hobi-” She rambles excitedly, but you quickly shut her down.

“Absolutely not. I already told you, mom. We broke up like 3 months ago,” You sigh at your mom’s lapsed memory.

“Oh dear, I guess it must’ve slipped my mind,” Your mom confesses in an airy voice before continuing, “Well, that just opens up this opportunity for you to meet new people, honey. Maybe you can get a summer fling, or whatever you kids call it nowadays.” You drag yourself away from the kitchen, leaving behind your half eaten bowl of cereal. A groan leaves your lips as you slowly tread towards your bedroom to pull out your suitcase buried beneath a mountain of bags.

“No thanks, I think the single life suits me better.” You make your way to your closet, assessing what's inside before digging deep for your summer clothes.

“You can still be single but a little fun never hurt anyo-”

“Mom, just leave it, alright? I'll go on this vacation, but I’m not having a ‘friends with benefits’ situation during my time there. I’d rather just tan on the beach and look into my courses for next year.” Your tone is pushy, leaving no room for objection. Truthfully, you're worried a bit about your junior year in college. If it's anything like high school, it’ll be the most mentally draining year of your life.

“Sorry, sorry. I just want you to have fun. Just don't focus on school too much and end up holed up inside the entire time. The area has changed from when you were a kid. The possibilities are almost endless now that you're an adult, so just promise me you'll take advantage of that at least a little,” She says, her voice a tad bit serious. You begin feeling bad and decide to comply.

“I guess I'll try to get out, no promises, though. I still have a lot to plan for next year,” This is a half lie. You do have things to do for the upcoming school year, but it won't take as long as you’re making it out to be.

“Okay, thanks, honey. By the way, your aunt Leena and her kids go up every summer to their beach house so they’ll be there to show you around the first day. And make sure to be ready Friday. We're leaving early to catch the plane. I gotta go now. Bye, I love you. See you then.” Before you can say I love you back, your mother has already hung up the phone, leaving you to contemplate about the 6 days you have left to get ready.

You briefly continue to dig through your clothes looking for summer outfits but can't help getting distracted. Sadly, you're still dwelling on when your mom brought up your ex-boyfriend. You had been dating since freshman year of college and you both met through mutual friends. Your heart still aches when you think about how you parted ways. Pictures of you both still decorate your apartment and are littered throughout your camera roll. You do not have the heart to delete them and you most certainly do not have the heart for someone new.

You still love Hoseok unbearably, and if he texted you right now at this very moment asking you to come back to him, he wouldn't even need to beg. The way he used to love you is unexplainable. It was pure sweet bliss. You miss it, the way he used to look at you, embrace you, play with your hair, and God, his touch, every-time he touched you…

You sigh, allowing the tears to brim. That's in the past and those are hurts, old hurts that you shouldn't be so caught up on. You should be over him, but you don't know how to do it. You don’t know how to be over him. Maybe your mom is right. You need something—no, someone to get your mind off of things. You run your hand down your face, wiping away unfallen tears in the process.

You could at least entertain the idea. Hoseok has seemingly moved on quickly, posting regularly with some new girl, so why can’t you? Nothing will likely come of, it but it's good to keep an open mind at least.

The plane ride there was alright, it was only a couple hours. Now you are in a new city with new people and entirely different sights to see. As soon as your plane lands, your mom leads you and your father outside to begin frantically looking around for your aunt and grandma. You, on the other hand, stand watching her from the background, marinating in the warmth of the entirely different climate you’d arrived in.

You’re exhausted, so you take a seat at a bench you spot close by, hoping to get at least a little rest before you are overwhelmed by the presence of extended family. You take a moment to block your parents who are still in view, slowly closing your eyes, removing all the unnecessary sounds and voices, focusing on silence. Finally, silence.

“So, you new around here? Truthfully, you're the first person I’ve seen that’s around my age in this airport.” Of course, an interruption just has to present itself. You open your eyes to see a tanned man around your age. His hair is a grown out buzz with frosted tips, and he sports a black Essentials hoodie and black shorts that end right above the knee with a lifeguard keychain poking out of the pocket. His smile leaves you sort of stunned, you find yourself staring at his dimples, and you're even more stunned that he came up to speak to you in your “I don't care” airport outfit. Maybe this is your opportunity to open up and meet new people.

You put on a smile, hoping to seem approachable and not irritated.

“Yeah, actually, I used to come here as a kid but stopped a long time ago,” You say. Maybe you shouldn't have said all that, he probably doesn’t really care.

“Cool, cool. I’ve lived here since I was 8. I moved here from Korea,” He replies, taking a seat right next to you as he leans back on the bench.

“So what brings you here? To the airport, I mean,” You ask him.

“I came to pick up a friend. He left for college, but now since its summer break he’s back. How about you?” He replies. You think for a moment, then realize there's no harm in telling him, ignoring the part of your brain that tries to convince you he has malicious intent.

“Oh, I came down here for a family vacation, my grandma and aunt own beach houses by the water so I guess that's where I'll be this summer,” You explain. His eyes widen at this, and so does his smile.

“That’s great! Maybe you’ll see me around, then. I'm a life guard down there. Maybe we can hangout during my breaks and I can introduce you to some of my friends.” You smile at this, realizing he is definitely asking you out, and you're not opposed to saying yes.

“I just might take up that offer since I don't have any friends up here, outside of my family,” You joke, and he smirks. When this man smirks, all you can think is, God, what have I gotten myself into?

“Sounds good. I’m Namjoon, by the way,” He says, extending his hand out of his pocket. You give it a subtle shake and state your own name, no longer hesitant to engage with him.

“____. I’m looking forward to seeing more of you in the future,” You giggle flirtatiously, and Namjoon just chuckles. He lets go of your hand as he thinks for a moment before his phone rings. He reaches his hand begrudgingly in his pocket, answering the call.

“Where are you, you said you’d be waiting outside!” The person over the phone says with obvious annoyance.

“Yeah, I got a little sidetracked. I'll be there.”

“Sidetracked by what, exactly-” Namjoon's finger taps the red button, breaking off the call before the voice can finish. You look at him expectantly.

“I guess that's my queue,” Namjoon chuckles lightly before stretching to stand. He extends his hand in front of you, eliciting you to raise a brow.

“My number, so we can stay in touch.” A small “oh”’leaves your lips with your eyes widened slightly. You unlock your phone and hand it to him. His fingers work quickly, typing it in as if muscle memory.

You stare at your phone in Namjoon's hand with half excitement and disbelief. You can't believe you're actually getting someone's number and that someone in question is very attractive. Also, you aren't going to spend the rest of the summer wallowing by yourself.

Your phone in front of your face reminds you of who's in front of you. You take it from his hands to see the sickly sweet smile.

“I guess I'll see you around,” His voice rings in your head even moments after he walks away, offering you a small wave that you fail to return before disappearing beyond your sight. Somehow, you failed to originally take in his full height. God, this might just be the most interesting summer of your life if he chooses to actually stay in contact.

Your attention shifts back to your mother who's coincidentally motioning for you to join her in speaking to your aunt. You grab your luggage and hurry over as fast as you can. Your moms face is one that spells utter curiosity.

“So… who was that?” Your mother whispers into your ear as your father places the luggage into your aunt's mini van. Instead of answering, you shrug her off, and surprisingly enough, she leaves it at that, making no means to pry any further.

“Everythings settled in,” Your father calls out as he takes his place in the passenger seat. Your mother and aunt usher you into the cramped van. The vehicle emits pitiful noises as it starts up, the AC hardly reaching the back seat, contributing to an uncomfortable sweat that plasters your skin, signaling the start to a hopefully fruitful summer.

It’s been 2 weeks since you settled in. 2 weeks since you landed. And finally, 2 whole weeks since you initially interacted with Namjoon. But of course, you have nothing to show for it. You haven’t texted or received any texts from Namjoon. You spoke with your cousins about it; about the festivals happening at the beach. They offered you a chance to go to the beach with them a few times but you bashfully declined. You aren’t that desperate to see him, you're just bored. Bored enough that you’re continuing your habit of stalking Hoseok.

Of course he’s continuously updating his instagram still. You don’t know why it tugs at your heart strings to see him enjoying life through each post. He seemingly never gave up on happiness like you originally did the first month of the breakup. You toss your phone away from you, proceeding to bury your face into your mattress waiting for a sign, a sign that Namjoon meant what he said, a sign that he’s only been busy with work.

You flip onto your back and contemplate just taking a nap to take up time or possibly going down stairs and seeing what’s happening with your family, but you hate when they pester you into cooking, so you ultimately decide against that.

“____! Your cousins are here!” Your mom screams up the steps. You groan before lethargically standing up from your bed.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” You yell back, hoping she hears you. You begin brushing your hair but decide against changing out of your pajamas. You know you're going to end up rejecting their plans to go out. You’d rather stay here and save yourself from being excluded since they usually are surrounded by women you can't recognize

“Any day now ____!” Your mom shouts again up the stairs, eliciting you to let out an annoyed huff as you hurry yourself out of your room and down the hallway. You can hear a voice coming from downstairs, voices belonging to your cousins, father, and uncle. It’s a male voice and you can hear your mother apologizing for the wait and your ‘behavior’. You roll your eyes as you reach the stairs, taking your time to walk down, and once you’re within view of the living room, you see more people than you’d expected.

“Finally! Did you sleep in or something?” Your cousin Jungkook asks. You scoff at this before replying.

“No, I’ve been up, I just haven’t decided what I want to do today,” Your tone is one of obvious annoyance, and Jungkook seems to have caught onto this because he laughs instead of saying something in return. Instead, your other cousin, Taehyung, states the reason as to why they're here.

“You wanna go out? We were thinking about going into town. Y’know, walking around, checking out some of the vendors for the festival. It’ll be nice,” Taehyung says, and before you can retort and say no, a new voice comes into the mix as if he could already tell what you were going to say.

“C’mon it’ll be fun, ____” you look to your right to find a man in tall stature with a plastered smile that’s immediately recognizable. It’s Namjoon. He’s somehow here in your grandmother's beach house, staring at you in your hello kitty pajamas and sleep ridden face. You almost panic to get away but remain calm. Now you have to say yes, you have to figure out why he hasn’t texted you.

“Fine. I’ll go, but I need time to change into a more presentable outfit.” Your cousins begin teasing you, but they’re just distant calls away since you’re already rushing up the stairs to your room.

You just hope you aren’t out long, but maybe you will be. If they plan to walk it’ll definitely be a while. Maybe you’ll wear sneakers. Shorts are a must and a zip up hoodie, possibly a halter top and you definitely have to curl your hair. You wanna look good. No, you have too.

You decided on a white romper with light blue flowers decorating it. You hoped Namjoon would say something when you originally came down, possibly about your hair or your outfit, but nothing comes out of his mouth. His eyes are too focused on the TikTok playing on his phone. His behavior sadly seems like a theme.

Namjoon doesn’t pay you any mind. His eyes wander constantly, more frequently resting on women your age that pass by. Your cousins explain that they’re friends with Namjoon and wanted to hang out with him today.

Jungkook and Taehyung brought along three girls: Amara, Cassidy, and Tegan. You were hardly able to catch their names due to their loud demeanor, and you aren’t sure if this is supposed to be a triple date that you’re seemingly excluded from. You fall behind everyone, walking slowly and taking glimpses at the scenery. The feeling of familiarity is distant but it’s there. You remember this place, walking along the street into the town with your parents going to local shops, buying memorabilia.

It all leaves you feeling nostalgic, a sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. The group walking a few feet in front of you stops for a moment, staring intently at an arcade.

“Should we go?” Jungkook asks. The girls fall into a fit of giggles as they all begin to agree.

Somehow you’ve never felt more like an outsider than you do right now. You’re not into gaming, the arcade doesn’t interest you, especially when you know you’ll be left to play by yourself. But what does is an antique gift shop right next to it.

You catch up with them as they begin conversing on which games they plan to play.

“Nah, I’m good,” Namjoons voice stands out amongst the group, immediately drawing their attention to him with just three words. The girls frown, but Taehyung and Jungkook could care less.

“No, you have to come, Joonie,” One of the girls, Amara, tugs at the long sleeve of his hoodie, causing a wave of discomfort to wash over you.

“I’m not really good at gaming and I don’t really enjoy it much. I’ll find something else to do in the meantime." She whines even louder, resting her head on Namjoons chest, her hands clinging desperately to the fabric of his hoodie.

“I don’t want you to be alone…” she moans, her voice beginning to annoy you. You see Taehyung roll his eyes before he speaks.

“It’s fine, ___ will be with him, won't you, ___?” Taehyung's mention of your name causes you to whip your head to his direction, only to see everyone’s eyes divert to you, staring you down expectantly.

“Uh..y-yeah sure,” You say, trying to sound calm. A smirk rests on not just Taehyung's lips but surprisingly Namjoon’s as well. He pulls away from Amara’s grasp, making his way towards you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you against him.

“Yeah, we’ll go look at shops, let's meet back up right here,” Namjoon suggests, leaving no room for protest once Jungkook and Taehyung agree. Taehyung slowly approaches Amara, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her towards the direction of the arcade before fruitfully saying goodbye to you both.

“So…where do you wanna go first?” He questions, looking down at you. You can hardly register his question, only aware of the strong grip he currently has on your shoulders.

“Uh, ___?” You quickly snap out of the trance to respond.

“Oh, uh, I was thinking about going to that antique gift shop, but that’s, uhm, boring, so we don’t have to—“ Namjoon’s laugh cuts you off, and it’s infectious. You’d probably join if you weren’t confused as to what’s funny.

“I was actually thinking the same thing. I guess we’re all nerds deep down, whether it’s video games or antique gift shops,” He muses. You're not in shock but surprised he would think about going there as well.

“Well, I guess that settles it. We should go take a look,” He nods in agreement, his hand falling to your waist as Taehyungs did with Amara. You jump at the feeling but don’t protest, remembering that you’re stepping outside of your comfort zone this summer.

You both fall into step with each other, the awkwardness almost unbearable for you. You wish you could say something, like possibly confront him about not texting you, but instead you're just silent like a mouse with his arm around your waist.

As soon as you reach the shop, Namjoon’s arm around your waist is a lingering feeling, just a distant memory.

He hurriedly rushes into the shop but not without making sure he opens the door for you to get inside. Once you are both inside of the store, he slowly makes his way through the store, examining everything and even speaking to the store clerk about some things.

He’s knowledgeable, and you can tell by the assertive tone in his voice. His interest is piqued each time the clerk tells him more information. It makes your heart flutter to observe the huge contrast of how he looks and his interests. A soft smile rests on your face as the clerk leaves Namjoon to greet a new customer.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” You say softly as you step up to him, peering at the vintage object he’s delicately holding in his hands.

“Wouldn’t have guessed what?” He asks, his eyes curiously staring into yours.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have guessed you'd be interested in this sort of thing. It seems you're more than just a pretty face,” You say, gesturing to the object in his hands. You test the waters with flirting, hoping he doesn’t leave you hanging, and he chuckles, his dimples revealing themselves as they always do, and your heart does that little flutter again.

“Oh, well I like to surprise people. My folks were old fashioned, so back in Korea I wasn’t allowed to go play video games and stuff like that,” He begins, his eyes leaving you to stare back at the antique before continuing, “But our house was ancient, left to us by my grandparents. All I did back then was explore, stare at old photos, and read old books. At the time it was boring, but I grew to love it.”

“Wow, as a kid I always dreamed of living in an old house. Was it haunted?” He laughs again. God, you could listen to that laugh all day.

“Uh, no, it wasn’t. Good thing though. I’m not a big fan of ghosts, anyway.” It was your turn to laugh now. Finally, Namjoon places the object down to take your hand in his. You let him because you want him to.

His hands are bigger than yours and significantly warmer. You like the feeling, it’s a feeling you’ve missed. He pulls you around, stopping to stare and touch certain things, showing them to you whilst keeping his other hand entwined with your own.

Your eyes wander over an old dresser, searching for something intriguing enough. Coincidentally, you spot an old jewelry box with various bracelets located inside. You stop, pulling namjoon to a stop as well.

“Did you find something you like?” You shake your head.

“Oh, no I just wanna take a look at that jewelry box.” He nods, letting you lead the way towards it.

The box has definitely seen better years. You can spot rust in the hinges and notice that the paint has flaked off a considerable amount. The design is worn down, but you’re still able to make out what it once was. A beach with a sunset as the background. You snake your hand, inside moving around the bracelets to locate one that catches your eye.

Many of them are tacky, out of date, and some even broken, but you spot a beautiful chunky bracelet with stone weaved together with silver. The stones remind you of various colors of marble. The condition is pretty good as well. You think you’ll get it.

“Ooo, what’d ya find?”

“Just this. I think it’s really pretty and it seems to have held up pretty well,” You say proudly, showing off your find. Namjoon nods as he looks at it.

“That’s nice, and the stones look like they’re real. It would look nice on your wrist. Do you want me to get it for you?” Namjoon questions, his fingers rising to meet the bracelet that’s still in your hands.

“Oh! No, you don’t have to, I brought money,” You explain frantically. Namjoon softly chuckles as he takes the bracelet from your hand before you can react. His other hand is still holding yours whilst he ushers you both over to the front desk.

“I’d like to check out, please,” He sets down the bracelet, allowing the clerk to take it and look for the price as Namjoon pulls out his wallet.

“I told you, that you don’t have to do this—“ you begin, but Namjoon interrupts you.

“Just let me. Think of it as an apology for not keeping in touch.” You go silent, taking in what he just said. As he pays, the clerk notes it as a sweet gift for his girlfriend. Namjoon laughs it off instead of denying that you’re anything at all, because you aren’t. You’re hardly even acquaintances.

Namjoon and you both decide that you want to leave instead of lingering in the store longer.

“I know a place where we can get something to eat.” You look over to him and he offers you a soft smile as he stares at the small box in your hands, containing the recent purchase. It had been a whopping 35 dollars.

“Should we wait for them?” You ask, even though deep down you don’t want the others to come.

“Hmm…” Namjoon looks over at the arcade, inspecting it in a way. You and him had already been inside of that store for almost an hour browsing.

“I think it’s fine, they can get food in the arcade. Let’s go,” He says, finally dropping your hand, and you feel weird without it, like your hand is missing something, the warmth of his lingering.

He walks ahead of you, speeding up a bit to get there, when you aren’t really sure where there is.

“Sorry, we kind of have to hurry to get a good spot in line because of tourists, but trust me, it’s worth it,” He shouts back at you as you try to keep up with his jogging pace.

You’re hunched over and out of breath from the running, but you both made it. Finally, you stare at the old diner in front of you. The sign out front reads, ‘ORBAKERS’ . You guess the restaurant is known for its burgers, since it says, “World’s best burgers” on the sign.

When you walk in, you’re greeted with a calm environment. The line isn’t as long as Namjoon originally anticipated. The place is decorated like it’s the 50s: a juke box, old fashioned waitress outfits, root beer floats in glasses, and to pull it all together the floor is checkered.

“You look awe struck. You’ve never been here before?” Namjoon asks, and it makes you think back. You try really hard to recall anything, but nothing comes to you, so you shake your head.

“I guess. I don’t remember this place at all. It’s really nice, I love the interior design.” He nods in agreement, his eyes drifting around the restaurant.

“Yeah, it’s a staple. Ever since I moved here it’s been a hot spot for tourism. I’m surprised you’ve never been,” Namjoon explains, his tone laced with nostalgia as if he is recalling fond memories.

You both take your time to get in line, staring at the pictures of the past that are spread throughout the walls.

“Speak of the devil,” The man says from behind the counter in a rough voice, “Namjoon, what the hell are you doing here?” His eyes land on you, narrowing as if studying you.

“Yoongi, it’s great to see you. I sometimes forget you work here,”Namjoon says, earning a bone chilling glare from Yoongi.

“Well, I’ve been working here for 5 years so that’s surprising,” Yoongi quips with obvious annoyance, “Who is she? Is she another ‘friend’?” He asks, his eyes once again finding yours.

You try not to think too much about the tone he uses when saying friend. But you can’t help the way your mind is. You try to rationalize it. He could mean quite literally anything else but it doesn’t help the unease that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought that Namjoon has frequent summer “friends”.

“Yeah, you could say that. Anyway, we’ll have two number ones, the classic burger with root beer floats,” Namjoon shrugs it off, but you on the other hand stare aimlessly at him. You’re not an idiot. At least you hope you’re not. You don’t want to be on a long list of Namjoon’s conquests.

Yoongi sighs as he punches in your orders and then relays your total. Namjoon pays, of course, and you let him instead of causing a commotion.

He waves at Yoongi and then leads you to a small booth to pass time as you wait for your food.

“Do you bring a lot of girls here, or am I special?” You ask, fiddling with the napkin holder, trying to avoid eye contact. You want him to deny it, but instead he just laughs, eliciting a frown from you.

“Wow, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?” He smiles at you and it causes the doubt you once had to slowly slip away, “I guess you could say that, it's a popular date spot.” You’re not happy with that answer but you decide to brush it off, instead focusing on the window located to your right.

Namjoon makes no effort for conversation until the food arrives. A young woman in a 50s style diner outfit with bowling shoes comes over with a tray of food that smells wonderful. Namjoon sits up to greet her and takes the tray. They exchange a few words, and by the end of it she’s giggling. Of course. You don’t know why that makes you angry, but it does.

“I don't think we’ll be able to finish this,” He says, taking a seat with the tray of food. The burgers are huge, looking almost impossible to finish alone. The fries are in a tall paper cup that’s overflowing with the sheer amount of them.

Your response to Namjoon is a nod that he doesn’t seem too happy with. But you don’t care, this is an unplanned date with someone you hardly know who's proving himself to be a playboy.

You eat your french fries slowly before he offers you ketchup, and you decline strictly because you’re petty. He can flirt with the whole female population for all you care. You pull out your phone and begin scrolling through social media, exerting all your energy on ignoring Namjoon.

“Theres no way you’re mad. Wait, are you?” Namjoon asks, a fry sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

You shake your head in response and divert your attention to the door. New customers are non-stop flooding in. Namjoon waves his hand in front of your face, catching your attention.

“Is this because of what Yoongi said? It was a joke, so chill, I'm not like that,” He explains, but it doesn't get rid of the gut feeling that says he is. You shake your head, allowing yourself to believe it for a moment. You don’t understand your emotions right now. It shouldn’t bother you, he isn’t yours and you aren’t his. This is supposed to be a fun summer fling. Something fun and adventurous, not a full blown relationship. Get over yourself, ___, you think.

You perk up quickly, ignoring the past 20 minutes and take a fry, shoving one end into Namjoon’s mouth. Before he can register it your mouth is already on the other end, taking a bite out of it and chewing.

Namjoon smirks before chewing the rest and swallowing.

This is gonna be one hell of a summer.

Fireworks light up the sky repeatedly, huge bursts of vibrant color illuminating the packed beach.

People bustle around, catching glimpses as they stand in line for various vendors. On the beach is you, Namjoon, your two cousins, and a couple other friends sitting on towels watching the sky intently with occasional conversation.

You scrunch your toes in the sand that was fiery hot just moments ago, replaced now with a cooler feeling as a breeze brushes against your skin.

You shiver a little due to only being in your damp bathing suit and snuggle close to Namjoon, whose skin is radiating warmth that lulls you. He doesn’t shy away from your touch, instead leaning into it.

“I just can’t be bothered, it's too much work.” A boy says, one who you vaguely remember his name being Jimin.

“Oh c'mon, you’re fucking with me. There's no way you haven’t tried anything at least once,” Namjoon accuses. Jimin shakes his head, grinning before responding.

“No man, I’m a good boy. I was class president for Christ’s sake. I didn't start being social until freshman year of college.” Namjoon laughs at Jimin's admission.

“I guess it’s better late than never…” Namjoon replies eerily, causing puzzled glances his way.

“No. Fucking. Way,” Taehyung says, staring at Namjoon. Instead of answering, he just smiles.

“What? I don’t get it,” A girl comments this time, one that arrived with Jimin, her name long forgotten.

“Babe, get me my bag, please,” Namjoon whispers to you. Your eyes slowly open and you look around, realizing he’s referring to you. Apparently, this is a new pet name he has for you, not that you’re complaining. You begin quickly registering what he just asked of you.

You reluctantly stand up, grabbing his tan tote bag that was discarded in the sand with the rest of the stuff from your group. You hand the bag to Namjoon then reclaim your seat next to him, leaning your cheek on his shoulder as your legs are folded underneath you.

He reaches in his bag as all eyes remain on him expectantly before he pulls out a fanny pack, one that has definitely seen better days.

He smooths the towel beneath you both gently, swiping sand off of it before dumping the contents of the bag. It doesn’t register at first until you finally realize.

“You’re a goddamn degenerate,” Jungkook scoffs, letting out breathy laughter.

“So… how do we want this to play out? Who is in?” Namjoon asks before shaking you a little. He does so rougher than you’d have liked. A few chuckles are heard from the group, but an almost unanimous decision of “yes” is made.

“What?” You ask, lost in your own head due to exhaustion. Namjoon stares you down, making you a little nervous.

“Well?” He asks, gesturing to the contents on the towel.

“I don’t know what that is...” You whisper softly, trying to make out what’s in front of you.

“You’re so fucking adorable,” Namjoon says quietly before leaning closer to your ear to whisper, “It’s heroin.”

“Oh,” You utter in shock, your eyes wide as you stare down.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Everyone starts laughing except for you. It feels patronizing, as if you’re a child.

“No shit, but that’s only if you get caught. No harm in doing it if no one finding out,” Taehyung states. You’re still on the fence until Namjoon speaks again.

“I promise you’ll be fine, and it’ll make you feel things, only good things. I promise. I’ll shoot you up if you want so you can speed ball it or you can snort or smoke it. Injecting it gets you better effects though. It hits quicker and lasts longer.” His little spiel causes your mind to wonder about it and actually consider it. It’s dangerous and you’ve never even smoked a cigarette for fucks sake. But honestly, if Namjoon’s fine with it….Fuck it. It’s summer. You decide if everyone else is fine doing it, why can’t you be? You’re an adult too.

“Is that okay? You don’t have to. I mean, you can just watch and then decide if you want to, or just-“ He explains, giving you room to decline but you’ve made up your mind already.

“No, I’ll do it. I mean, I can do it,” You say quickly, nerves high.

“Sweet. Let’s get this show on the road then,” Namjoon exclaims, rubbing his hands together.

“So… who wants to go first?” Jungkook concedes.

“I’ll share a smoke with someone,” One girl, Amara, announces, reminding you she’s here. Tegan agrees to share one with her. Jungkook and Taehyung agree that they’ll take their chances snorting it and Jimin chickens out, but the girl he’s with chooses to shoot one up.

By the time it gets to your turn to get shot up you get scared. The consistency of the heroin shifts to molasses as Namjoon lights a flame beneath the spoon it resides on. The smell of the smoke is horrendous, eliciting coughs from you.

The band wrapped around your arm feels suffocating as your veins reluctantly reveal themselves. Only then, when Namjoon sanitizes the area do you realize you’re trembling. You’re horrified.

The needle is full and ready to be injected into your arm, but the grip you have on Namjoon’s forearm prevents him. Everyone around you falls into background noise, your heart beating in your ear.

Namjoon breathes an annoyed huff.

“Do you want me to or not, ____, I don’t have all damn night,” He groans.

“I-Im just scared. I do want to do it but…”

“Great! 1.2.3,” He counts down hurriedly, moving the needle for your arm.

“No wait!” You shout, but it falls on deaf ears.

It hurts. It’s agonizing, and you normally have no issues with needles. He removes the needle roughly, wiping away any blood that seeps from the small wound before he kisses it and places a band aid on it.

“See, it wasn't so bad, was it?” He finally says after discarding the needle into the fanny pack.

You glare at him, your eyes shooting daggers. You don’t feel the effects yet.

“That was a fucking douche move you asshole. I said no.” You turn from him, crossing your arms across your chest. Now you’re both gonna argue as if things couldn’t get any worse.

“Jesus, hopefully it takes effect soon. I’m sick of this bitchy attitude,” He huffs but once he catches sight of your tearful eyes, he softens a bit. He scoots closer to you, moving your hair from your shoulder, replacing it with his lips.

“Sorry, baby,” he finally whispers . This was a recurring thing for you and Namjoon for the past two weeks. You argue and get mad, but then he’d apologize. You swear he’s bipolar, but you’re also at fault for forgiving him so quickly, sort of like now. Maybe it’s the heroin that’s got you so loopy, light, and bubbly, but you accept his kisses.

You giggle because the small kisses tickle as he moves to your neck and then lethargically push Namjoon’s head away. Your mind feels slowed down and your body hardly moves the way you’d like.

“St…op…” You laugh. You look at the group around you. Some are dazed whilst others are hunched over laughing. Tegan is dry heaving which makes you chuckle a little.

Namjoon’s head moves back to your neck, this time curling and nipping at the skin, pushing at the straps of your bikini. You can’t tell if he’s seriously trying to do this in front of his friends and your cousins.

“F..uck…of.f.” You draw out. You can hear the muted sound of Namjoon’s laugh, so you begin to think he’s giving it a rest. To your surprise, he bites you. It’s not a small bite either, it hurts bad. You yelp and push him away.

His eyes are crinkled and his mouth sports a wide smile as he laughs. It’s a joke to him, and you’re annoyed, but you try not to let it ruin this high. Instead of arguing, you lay back in the sand, hardly registering how annoyed you’ll be later, trying to scrub the sand out of your hair.

“____,” Namjoon says, his voice is slow as he repeats it. You feel at peace in the world for a moment, hardly even registering that you're falling asleep.

A harsh smack wakes you up, and you're met with Taehyung's exhausted eyes and clammy face. You jolt your body up, feeling 200 pounds heavier than before and despite the 50 degree weather and the chill breeze, your body is warm.

“We’re leaving, ___, grab your shit and let’s go,” Taehyung declares, moving to collect his things.

“Warn me to never do that again,” Jungkook says as his fingers comb through his hair aggressively. You watch as he pulls out a cigarette, claiming it’ll cleanse his palette.

Your eyes shift around and find Namjoon staring up at you. He has a mischievous grin on his face.

You stretch your limbs to shake off the unwanted weight, but feel the same.

“Be careful standing. Do you feel nauseous? That’s common for first timers,” Namjoon asks gently from beside you.

You roll your eyes, ignoring his warnings and stand on your own anyway. You stare at what remains of the eventful night and find nothing but foot prints and tire tracks in the sand, not to mention your small group that seems to be missing a few people.

“What time is it?” You ask Taehyung as he grabs his draw string bag and fishes out his phone.

“It’s 3 am. Goddammit. We are so fucked,” He groans, letting one hand comb through his hair.

Usually both your parents don’t care if you stay out too late, but if you stay past 1 am, the understanding was you better find a place to stay the night, which you currently did not have.

“Where’s Jimin?” You question. Jungkook stands, phone in one hand and lit cigarette in the other before answering you.

“How the hell are we supposed to know? By the looks of it he took the girls and bolted, leaving us to handle ourselves. Looks like we’ll be sleeping in my car at this rate.” Jungkook takes a long drag of his cigarette. Taehyung crouches down, collecting their towels and shaking off the sand before folding them neatly.

“You guys can crash at mine,” Namjoon finally says.

“Our hero,” Taehyung exclaims dramatically, pulling Namjoon in for a hug as Jungkook finally puts out his cigarette.

“Well, my place is a little messy, so if you don’t mind that I’ll host you guys for the night,” Namjoon concludes. Taehyung and Jungkook reassure him it is fine before asking for your opinion.

“It’s fine, but are you guys okay to drive there?” You ask.

“It’s long since worn off, we should be fine,” He states before continuing, “I guess I’ll meet you guys there.” Namjoon grabs his tote bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Sounds great,” Taehyung replies as you all head the opposite direction toward Jungkooks car.

Apparently, Namjoon’s idea of “messy” is a couple of clothes on the floor. His apartment is immaculate. You don’t even think you can see a spec of dust anywhere. Taehyung and Jungkook basically pass out as soon as they get set up on the sofa and the floor in the living room.

You enter Namjoon’s room as he searches for something for you to change into, heavy snores floating in from beyond the door.

“Thanks,” you take the large shirt and boxers and head to the bathroom to change out of your bikini. Your body temperature has since dropped, leaving you shivering in your swimsuit.

You make haste changing in his bathroom, deciding against a shower due to your exhaustion. While changing, you discover the bite mark that you vaguely remember Namjoon giving you. It heats up that same feeling of anger.

“You done in there?” Namjoon calls out. You open the door, revealing yourself. He pauses, staring at you for a moment while slowly bringing his hand up to brush the bite mark.

“Heh, I got you good, didn’t I?” He grins, but you ignore him beelining for the bed.

“C’mon, I was high. I’m sorry.” He pulls at your arms, practically forcing you to face him.

“Do you wanna share the bed?” He tries to reconcile. You know you shouldn’t forgive him, especially with that half assed apology, but you do anyway. You nod, letting him tug you towards the bed forcefully. He pulls you down to his chest. Somehow you failed to realize he was shirtless.

You feel his nose nudge your cheek? pushing your head back into the pillow.

“Namjoon…” you groan, acknowledging the bad idea of sharing a bed.

“Shhh...just let me...” he whispers, leaving small kisses on your jawline.

“I feel gross.” You push him only enough for him to get off of you. This annoys him, eliciting a push back as response, but instead of remaining on the bed like him, you fall off the edge, hurting your elbow.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to do that. You okay?” You sit up on the ground and clutch your elbow, tears in your eyes as you stare up at him on the bed. And goddamn, he looks good, his hair messy, his pajama pants resting low on his hips. He climbs off the bed to reach you.

His thumbs come up to wipe the tears that fall reluctantly.

“This really hurts. Like really bad. Why are you such a prick today? I don’t understand...” You rant, finally allowing tears to fall.

“I’m sorry, baby, I really didn’t mean to. Do you want some ice?” He asks, waiting to gauge your response. When you shake your head, he responds.

“What do you want from me, baby? Use your words.”

You take a shaky breath before opening your mouth, “Stop being such an asshole.”

Namjoon purses his lips and nods, dragging you slowly back to bed without words being said. You hold your arm protectively against you and turn away from Namjoon, but he still spoons you, his larger arm wrapped around your waist and his chin resting between your neck and shoulder, but you can feel something else. A hardness presses against your ass as you fail to fall asleep.

Another two weeks have passed of hanging out with Namjoon every other day, which has been mostly arguments and makeout sessions. Currently, you find yourself at the beach once again but instead of a group it’s just you and Namjoon. He just got off his life guard shift and it's 6pm. You’re both hidden away from the rest of the beach. Namjoon introduces you to a spot where he and other life guards like to chill on lunch break.

“Have you ever smoked before?” Your head is in his lap as you stare out at the endless water. You shake your head no.

“Like, anything at all. No vapes... no cigarettes... no carts?” You aren’t even sure what the last thing is, but you just shake your head no.

Truthfully, you’ve been scared to try anything else since the heroin. For about a week you kept having this inkling in the back of your head that you wanted to try it again, which scared the shit out of you. So, most of the time, you leave Namjoon to his own vices. You've found out he’s big on everything to do with drugs.

“Do you want to...?” He suggests, reaching in his bag to pull out what looks to be a juul or some kind of vape.

“No, Namjoon, I’ve told you-“ you begin, but he interrupts you by pulling you off his lap so you’re sitting up.

“Don’t be such a pussy. It’s a fucking cart, not cocaine.” He rolls his eyes then waves the device in front of your face.

“Just try one puff to see if you like it. C’mon, we both know you will.” You stare at him, and annoyance litters on your face as you snatch it out of his hand.

“That’s my girl. Now, take a big huff from it and see how it makes you feel.”

You suck on it, hoping that you’re doing it right. A light turns on at the end as you inhale. You keep doing so until Namjoon stops you.

“Calm down, baby girl, you haven’t even smoked a real blunt yet. You can’t hit the blinker.” You begin coughing like a maniac as you exhale, and Namjoon pats your back, taking the cart from you to indulge in it himself.

“We’re sort of moving backwards but it’s alright. How do you feel?” Namjoon asks when you realize the tingly sensation you feel.

“I feel fine. You hardly let me have any,” Namjoon laughs, patting your head.

“First of all, this isn’t a vape. If you smoke too much, you’ll fucking green out, but fine, go ham on it, but don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” He tosses you the cart then lays back on the rock. Right then is when you notice his eyes have a pinkish hue to them.

You stare at the cart for 5 minutes.

“What? Bit off more than you can chew?” Namjoon jests, quirking a brow expectantly.

“How do I hit a blinker like you said before?”

Namjoon’s eyes widen in shock, but instead of talking you out of it, a smile grows.

“Hell fucking yeah. Just inhale and I’ll tell you when to stop when the light at the bottom starts flickering.” Namjoon watches intently as you begin to inhale the smoke. You do it for a while, and it feels like ages before Namjoon finally says it’s enough. You start choking once you put it down, coughing out puffs of smoke before you can feel the actual strain it’s put on your body.

It feels as though you’re watching yourself from a different body. Everything is moving around you, and you find it hard to catch yourself when you tumble forward from where you sat.

“Oh shit, you’re so gone.” Namjoon holds you up so that you’re now standing just to make sure you aren’t moving anymore, but it somehow still feels like you are. You’re zoned out, only hearing muted comments from him.

“I knew it was too soon, but damn, that was sick. My little overachiever,” You faintly hear Namjoon say from beside you. You respond with nothing, failing to find words, lulling your head back and forth.

“Your eyes are so red right now. You definitely greened out. I’m so proud of you,” He says jokingly before laughing. You laugh too, because why not? Something’s funny, you guess, and there’s no harm in joining in.

You can hardly think about anything that’s going on. You start laughing uncontrollably and Namjoon says something, but you don’t catch it.

That’s when a wave of nausea falls over you, and you can’t stop it. Bile rushes up your throat and before you can think or move, you vomit all over yourself as well as Namjoon. He pushes you away, and you stumble then fall to the ground with a loud thud, hitting your head.

A line of curses leave his lips as he looks down at the half digested pile on the ground in disgust.

“Holy fuck, that’s so nasty.” He looks to you still on the ground, motionless and staring at the slowly setting sky. He pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground a few feet away from him.

“Goddamnit. You okay?” His voice sounds annoyed as he asks you this and you don’t respond at all, too out of it to care. The throbbing pain in the back of your head isn’t enough to elicit anything but a groan from you before you burst out laughing.

“Okay, let’s get you up.” Namjoon places his hand under your armpits, pulling you to sit up.

“Stay still,” he mutters. His eyes find the rock, the one which you hit your head on, remnants of blood decorating it. His hand finds the back of your head, feeling around before landing on a small gash.

“Ow!” You cry out. He keeps touching until you finally find the strength in you to pull away from his hold.

“Of course you just had to hit your head.” Namjoon whispers.

His hand tightens painfully around your wrist as he basically drags you off to the life guard quarters on the beach. Only a few people remain on the beach. Swimming has since ceased due to the lack of life guard.

He opens the door with a key from his lanyard. Inside, it is spacious, with a couple floaties, kick boards, life guard equipment organized neatly, and even a little shower. Namjoon walks closer to a desk that’s in the corner and opens a cabinet containing medical supplies. He grabs gauze, bandages, and neospirin. He then goes into another room that is connected and comes back with a damp paper towel.

Namjoon gestures for you to sit in the chair he’s pulled out from the desk. You do so, albeit clumsily.

He wipes away at your gash without warning, and then applies a thin layer of neospiorin. You groan in response to the stinging sensation that follows.

“Im gonna have to wrap it all the way around.” He places the gauze on your head and grabs the bandage.

“Hold this.” You hold down one side as he wraps it around your head, tying the end together in a messy bow.

“Ditch the shirt. it fucking reeks.” You pull your shirt overhead and drop it to the ground. You sit there in your bikini top, contemplating life. Namjoon helps freshen you up a bit, allowing you to take a quick shower with your bikini on and a mint.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks despite not seeming even remotely worried. He reaches into a mini fridge under the desk and hands you a cold bottle of water. You take it, only just now realizing how parched you are.

“Yeah, I don’t feel so out of it now. But I think I’m still high,” You admit, gulping down the water until that gross taste leaves your mouth. You set the bottle on the table, pulling your knees onto the chair to rest your head. Namjoon leans against the desk, staring at you.

He slowly inches closer, placing a small kiss on your head to soothe you. He moves your hair over your shoulder and crouches in front of you to bury his face in your neck.

“Baby, are you tired?” He asks, his breath hot on your neck. You get the urge to jerk away but don’t. He only uses that nickname when he wants something.

“A little…” you mumble, you still feel off and you begin to wonder how long it’ll last. That is until nips at your neck.

“Really Namjoon? Here?” You lean away taken aback by actions.

“There’s no one around,” He whispers, trailing kisses down your neck, pushing your legs down from the chair.

“But what if..?” Namjoon’s hand trails down, sneaking underneath your bikini top to capture your breast in his palm. You moan at the feeling of his warm hand capturing your breast.

“You want it, baby, just give in.” You try to hold back, but it’s been so long since you’ve had sex with anyone. You practically squirm in your seat, but you aren’t sure if you're ready to do it with someone you hardly know. His hand teases your nipple as his mouth sucks even harder on your neck before pulling away.

“Please, Joon,” The nickname slips out without meaning to, but this catches Namjoon’s attention.

“That’s my girl,” He whispers, continuing to kiss up until he finds your lips, his tongue slipping skillfully into your mouth, warm and wet colliding with your own. It’s the roughest kiss you love ever had. Namjoon is a rough man, after all. It's nothing compared to Hobi’s passionate kisses. In contrast, Namjoon is impatient and demanding. When you try to pull away, he grabs you forcefully, holding you in place, sticking his tongue deeper down your throat until he decides it’s enough.

When he pulls away you, gasp for air, choking a bit. He seems fine, however, and reaches in his back pocket, pulling out his phone. You think he’s reading a text at first, but then realize he’s recording.

“What the hell are you doing?” You remark, staring at the grin on Namjoon’s face.

“Get on your knees and you’ll find out,” He answers, and you glare at him, refusing. The refusal makes him let out an annoyed sigh before he throws something at you. You catch it only then realizing it’s a cart.

“Hit it,” He insists, his phone still pointed at your face. You’re still on the fence scared from what happened the last time you touched that.

“C’mon, it’ll be fine. Don’t do it like before. We’ll go back and forth. It’ll also calm your nerves. I think it’s wearing off.” You take a deep breath to calm yourself, then attach your lips to the cart and inhale, then exhale. The feeling is better than before, light and soothing. The cough is still there, though.

“There we go. Give it here.” You hold it out to him and he takes it back, inhaling for a while then exhaling easily with minimal coughing.

“Take off your top, baby, I wanna get a video of how good you look.” He passes the cart back to you after you unlace your halter bikini top, letting it fall to the floor. You take another hit of the cart, paying little mind to Namjoon’s camera.

“Put on a show for the camera so I can watch this later when I'm thinking of you.” You lean back on the chair, feeling a little shy, bikini bottoms still on.

“What do you want me to do? I've never done this before.” Namjoon groans and pauses the video.

“First, lose the bikini bottoms and play with yourself while calling out my name. Do things you know will make me hard,” He says before unpausing the video.

“Uh, okay...” you mutter. You’re still nervous and unsure, needing more guidance.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? Have never gotten off before?” Namjoon questions, and you shake your head. You're not a virgin, but Hobi was your first everything and you’d never really thought about masterbaiting in front of someone else before. There's a brief pause before he sighs.

“Take them off.” He gestures to your bikini bottoms. You roll them down your legs, kicking them into a corner.

“Stick your middle and ring finger in your mouth and suck on them hard.” He moves his phone camera closer to your face as you place the two fingers in your mouth, suckling on them, letting the saliva drip down your chin.

“Now stick them in your pussy, nice and slow.” A little hesitantly you follow Namjoon’s orders, sticking your two fingers in your pussy.

Your warmth clenches around your fingers, creating a squelching noise as you insert them. Namjoon angles the camera down, getting a better view of your action.

“Ok now think of me. Imagine your hand is my own.

They’re my fingers in there, going as deep as I can, trying to find your g-spot.”

“Namjoonc I don’t think-“

“Maybe fucking close your eyes and try it first,” He scolds. He takes a deep sigh before inching closer to you.

“Never met a girl who doesn’t know how to masturbate. If you want something done, you gotta do it yourself, I guess,” He huffs with a belittling tone. He pulls your wrist, removing your fingers from your pussy and replacing them with his own much longer and experienced ones.

You gasp as his thumb massages your clit and his fingers inch deeper, burying themselves in your pussy as you clench around them repeatedly, wanting nothing more than for him to pick up the pace.

“Namjoon,” you moan out as you tilt your head back. The phone camera is angled directly at what Namjoon’s doing to you. You can’t find it in you to be uncomfortable with it. The weed mixed with how turned on you are is clouding your rationality.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Do you like it? The feeling of my fingers fucking you?” He whispers, his voice sultry as it hits your ear, making you want to squirm in your spot for all the right reasons. When Hobi had fingered you in the past, it was nothing like this. It was mediocre to say the least due to lack of experience, and so you’d only done it that one time. Namjoon most definitely knows what he’s doing, just based on the motions of his fingers, the fast speed, and calculated rhythm. You try to imagine how he fucks, and it only gets you even more worked up.

“So good.” You can’t even believe these actions are your own. You're practically riding his hand all whilst wishing his fingers could go deeper and his hand leaves you feeling fuller. The next thing you say surprises even Namjoon.

“Fuck me, Joonie, I need your cock in me now.” At this, Namjoon jerks his hand away, ending the video and tossing his phone aside. You whine at the emptiness, then begin thinking he’s actually going to give you what you ask. However, instead of removing his pants, he places the two fingers that were once inside of you into your mouth, moving them deeper, almost enough to choke you.

“You have such a dirty mouth and no fucking manners. If you want something, you ask nicely. Got it? You fucking slut.” You think this is a bit, or, at least, you hope it is. But deep down you can feel the animosity behind his words, the truth behind them. You choose to ignore, though, and decide to play along.

He trails his saliva coated fingers down to your breast, pinching your nipple.

“Please Joon, please fuck me.” Your begging elicits laughter, which then causes shame to form in the pit of your stomach as well as embarrassment.

“I guess, since you asked so nicely. Begging’s a good look on you, baby, you should do it often.” His fingers leave your breast, instead tugging the hem of his swim shorts, his cock easily springing free, the tip oozing precum down the shaft as he grabs the base.

You can’t help but gawk at the sheer size of him. Truthfully, you don’t think he’ll fit. He notices this and laughs while rolling the condom on. Nervousness seeps in through your high. You then remember the cart in your hand and bring it to your lips, inhaling the smoke into your lungs, hoping it will calm you down. You do this twice. Before Namjoon, without warning, buries himself to the hilt inside of you, a groan leaving his lips.

The stretch burns, the shock causing you to yelp and drop the cart on the ground.

“You’re so tight baby, you fit me like a glove,” He says, his voice low.

“Joonie, you're too big,” you whimper.

“Shh, you're gonna enjoy this. Just wait.” He shushes, leaving no room for objection, so you remain uncomfortable. Your orgasm is shifting further and further away, the pain from the angle on the chair beginning to also take a strain on your back. However, this all becomes distant worries as he fucks into you roughly at an increased pace. His large hands dig deep into your hips, surely to cause bruising. His hips smack against yours, the sound loudly bouncing off the wall.

Your G-spot is abused brutally by the way Namjoon thrusts into you. You wish wholeheartedly that you could say Namjoon’s previous statement was wrong, but the wailing and loud moans coming from you are 100% percent real. Namjoon is a beast and he knows how to fuck.

Before you know it, you're coming, your walls clenching around his relentless cock and your body practically convulsing under him as your orgasm allows euphoria to rush all over you. Namjoon hasn’t came yet, so he keeps fucking you straight through your orgasm. Soon, his breathing turns into hard pants. His thrusting grows messier and his hands loosen their grip the slightest, signaling his high is coming. During his final thrust, he pulls into you, holding your hips painfully still as he comes in the warmth of your pussy.

He waits a moment before pulling out, leaving a strange sensation in his wake. Your legs feel shaky and your body detached from your mind. Everything moving significantly slower than you’d like it.

Namjoon tosses the condom in bin near the desk then pulls his pants and boxers up. He stares at you a moment longer before pulling you in for a kiss you’re hardly present to take part in before finally pulling away.

“We should do that more often.”

“Namjoon!” You call out for him. You’re fucking angry. Scratch that, you’re pissed.

You bang on his door once more followed by curses underneath your breath when there’s still no answer.

“Namjoon open this fucking door or so God help I will-“ before you can finish coming up with something sinister enough, Namjoon’s at the door.

“When were you gonna tell me that-” you begin yelling but take a closer look at him, the erratic movements, the sniffling, the blown out pupils.

“You’re fucking high, of course,” You huff, pushing past him into the apartment. You’re met with a foul smell. Food sprung about, bongs, needles, cigarettes, you name it and it was likely in this living room.

“S-sorry I d-didn’t have time to clean up,” He says whilst twitching his head and rubbing his eyes hurriedly. Fuck, he’s stumbling on his words.

“Of course you didn’t, Namjoon I… honestly, I’m at a loss for words.” You run a hand down your face, disapproval etched into your features.

“When’s the last time you were sober? Be honest.” You stare into his eyes unrelentingly. He's tweaking like a junkie outside of a liquor store.

“Uh, two days ago. Wait, no, I think I popped a few oxys. Maybe five days ago, or, wait. Uhm, let me think. You can't ask questions like that on the spot and expect me to answer-“ Namjoon rambles whilst picking at the hair on his arms.

“Look at yourself, Namjoon, you’re a fucking addict. Jesus help us. You can't even remember the last time you weren't high. Do you not see it as an issue?” Namjoon looks taken aback by that, especially when you accuse him of being an addict.

“Ok, ‘Miss Perfect’, who has never done anything remotely wrong in her life. Give me a fucking break. I’ve had a lot going on, but that doesn't mean I'm an a… I just need something to take the edge off once and a while,” Namjoon explains, wiping his palms onto his shorts.

“I never claimed to be perfect, Namjoon, but you don't see my room looking like a trap house. You need an intervention and you need to go to rehab. Also, we are done. I can’t do this, I can't do you anymore lying and saying we are exclusive, the drug use, and the needles.” You take a step towards the door, but Namjoon's large, sweaty palm grabs your forearm.

“That’s not even true. I'm clean. I haven't done heroin in a while and I haven't slept with anyone else.” You roll your eyes at this obvious false narrative.

“Let go of me and delete my number off your phone.” Except he doesn't let go, instead pulling your body towards him.

“Please, baby, you're the only one. I promise. Don’t leave me. I’ll quit, I swear...” you almost scoff before he finishes.

“I don’t wanna be alone, my parents, they…got into an accident. My moms in a coma and my dad…he’s… gone. I just wanted it all to not feel real for a moment." He pulls you tight against him, a tear landing on the crook of your neck. Your heart breaks. No one told you that, and you hadn't heard about it. If you had, you wouldn't have busted in here, guns blazing.

“Namjoon, I-“ you turn to face him to see the tears in his eyes, “Damn, now I feel like such a colossal bitch.”

“Don't be. You're the only one I've told,” you nod and hug him tight.

“ I can help you Joonie, we can get through this together.” You don't know why you kiss him, but you do because it feels right, and of course, he kisses you back, feeling exactly the same.

Namjoon has been ghosting you, to say the least. You’ve been texting him like crazy, but he turned off the feature that lets you know if you’ve been left on read or not, so you have no idea if he’s been reading any of your messages. You can’t help but worry that he’s overdosed somewhere in an alley or in his apartment.

You sigh in annoyance as the call goes to voicemail yet again.

“Just want to know if you’re okay, any sign is fine. I know you’re going through a lot but I did say I’d be there for you.” You hang up the call, hanging your head low in defeat. Your mom taps your shoulder in acknowledgment.

“C’mon ___, he’s not all that important. Isn't there someone else you’re interested in? In my opinion, Namjoon sounds like a real stick in the mud. I saw this nice young man hanging out with your cousins the other day. I think he said his name was Seokjin, a real looker that one-“

“No mom, you don’t understand and I don’t think you would, even if you had full context. Namjoon, he’s…struggling right now, and I’m all he has. I don’t think he’s ignoring me, I think he’s just caught up right now.” Caught with what, exactly? You aren’t too sure, but you hope it has something to do with his parents and nothing to do with drugs.

“Dear, I know you care about this young man, but I’m telling you right now he isn’t worth spending the rest of your summer pining over him. Go out and have fun, enjoy yourself. Please, enough of the moping. It hurts my heart.” Your mom rubs your shoulder gently and instead of responding, you get up and stomp out of the house.

When you went to go see your cousins for some help, all you heard was ’he’s a grown man he can handle himself’ or ‘I’m not his keeper, we aren’t even that close’. You were fuming after talking to them, so you let it be. Your mom was trying to be helpful but was failing miserably. Your dad had no idea what was going on and your grandma is just glad you have a “boyfriend”.

You walk aimlessly up town, trying to think of something to do about this conversation. That is, until you spot something. No, someone familiar, someone you’ve been trying to get ahold of for a whole week.

“Oh my god? what the hell did you take?!” You march over to him. He’s laying in the sand, hidden by bushes, high out of his mind. You crouch down to inspect his body and find nothing worth noting besides bruising on his forearms.

“Wake up! Namjoon, wake the hell up! You're in public, anyone could see you.” You shake him repeatedly and smack him a little. His eyes lazily open to stare into your worrisome ones. He takes a while to sit up, his body hardly cooperating with his mind right now.

“Do I have to call 911? It looks like you’re overdosing,” You state, sitting in front of him to stare into his eyes. It’s not coke or any other stimulant. Not weed based on his reaction. Gotta be some type of prescription pill.

“Tell me now what did you take?”

“You’re so fucking loud and it’s too bright,” He finally says, his words slurred and soft enough that if you weren’t paying attention you wouldn’t have caught them.

“Namjoon I understand that you’re going through a lot right now, but is it worth it? Being high all the time only brings short term satisfaction,” You announce.

“You don’t understand how it feels to watch your mom take her last breath in front of you and have no one left who gives a shit about you besides the sluts who only want me for one thing. Is that you? Are you one of them? If so, get fucking lost.” He tries to flop back onto his side, but you grab his arm, preventing him from doing so.

“You can’t fathom how worried I’ve been about you, Namjoon...I have been calling you repeatedly. Like, you can’t just use drugs as a release after your parents die. They will kill you. All these fucking drugs and random shit you’re putting in your body. Are you seriously okay with throwing your life away?”

“Like you care,” he scoffs, jerking out of your hold. You’re taken aback by his dismissive nature. You can’t deal with this, you won’t survive.

“Of course I care, Namjoon, someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t be here right now worrying about where you are or if you're sober or if you’re even alive. Ever since you I feel like I can’t breathe without guilt or the thought of you dying. It kills me on the inside so please just listen to me this once.” Tears prickle your eyes and you can hardly take the grief. You feel so responsible by enabling his behavior. Namjoon stares at you, his face tired and clammy.

“I’ll try. I do have a problem. I’m sorry for dragging you into this ____.” He says shortly, his movements still off and his speech slurred. You almost burst into uncontrollable sobs at his final addition; it makes you finally feel relieved for the first time in weeks.

Flashing lights. The smell of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant. The beeping noises coming from every direction. 

You fight with the receptionist to go back with him, but in the end it’s pointless because you can’t. 

It all comes back to you. Hitting you like a freight train. The tears, the yelling, and finally the silence. 

Finding him twitching in his room alone with the lights off. That’s something you’ll never be able to wipe from your mind; the repeated calling out to him with no avail and the way you froze for a few moments when the realization hit you.  

In those few moments you had registered how much you failed him but now you sit contemplating, reliving that experience as they administer care to Namjoon. 

The thought of him dying kills you on the inside but also angers you beyond belief. How could he basically kill himself and leave you here knowing how much you tried, how much you cared for him? 

Your hands find their way to your hair, clenching painfully at the base to make sure this is real life, because it just can't be that only moments ago you found Namjoon basically struggling to stay alive, struggling to stay afloat. 

You thought he was getting better, that soon he could be sober all the time, but looks can be deceiving. 

Your eyes wander around the waiting room, landing onto the entrance for a moment, hoping for something or someone to take away the guilt, to share this pain with you and of course, that’s when an older couple enters. They have to be close to their fifties, a man and woman. You wonder what they’re here for. You wish deep down it’s Namjoon, however, that’s not how life works. People don’t come back from the dead. 

You ball up, your knees wrapped tightly to your chest as your head rests gently in your arms. You try to ignore the talking and worried speech going on around you. 

Sleep ____, when you wake up it’ll all be okay. Namjoon will be awake. He’ll forgive you and he’ll finally stay clean. Your mom will be more patient. Your cousins will get closer to him to keep him in check and finally at the end of the summer you’ll go home, possibly keeping in touch, possibly not. 

“You must be ___..”  an older woman’s voice speaks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You look at the couple in front of you, confused. It’s the one you had seen walk in earlier. How do they know you, though?

“Oh, apologies. We haven’t introduced ourselves, things have been quite hectic but you can call us Mr. and Mrs. Kim. We are Namjoon’s parents.”  The tone is one of worry, but your response is utter shock. you can hardly contain the disbelief. 

No, it can’t be. They can’t be alive.

“But you died in a car accident. Namjoon said…” you say, sitting up as if you’ve seen a ghost. Or more like two of them. 

They both sigh at the same time, one in disappointment. It’s a sigh that seems to have been given more than once. 

“See, our son, despite our love for him, is quite the smooth talker. He’s a liar and a charming one at that. This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this to get what he wants. He’s selfish and likes to string people along. His father and I are very much alive and well and have been. Usually it never gets this bad, but with the excess amount of drugs involved, it seems to have gotten way out of hand.”  Namjoon’s mother says, her tone sympathetic, but it does nothing to help the growing rage that fills your body.

“Gotten out of hand? Are you serious? Your son... he—he used me, manipulated me, and made me feel so fucking guilty. You don’t know how it felt picking up his used needles, finding him nodding off, or passed out on a bench, or fucking convulsing as he overdoses right in front of my eyes. Those things stick with a person they will stick with me forever. So don’t you dare try and tell me things got out of hand because I don’t think ‘out of hand’ even begins to describe the shit he put me through.” 

His parents’ eyes are wide and they don’t try to argue. You’re out of breath and exhausted. You don’t think you have any anger left or words left to say. That is, until a nurse approaches the three of you. His parents speak to each other in Korean in serious tones, so they hardly notice or register what the nurse has to say. 

“Kim Namjoon in room 9 is ready to have visitors. His condition is stable and he is currently alert and awake-“ before she can dive into details, you’re speed walking in the direction of the private rooms, hoping you stumble upon room 9 and when you turn the corner. There it is, in all its glory. You burst through the door, breathing heavy and your face red.

Namjoon looks disheveled when he sees the state of you.

“___, you came. I’m so sorry-“ 

“Let’s skip the semantics Namjoon. I already know you’re a lying piece of shit. Why the hell did you tell me your parents are dead but somehow I just met them in the lobby?” His jaw clenches then ticks. He doesn’t seem suprised he got found out or embarrassed, or even a little empathetic for what he did. Instead, he seems frustrated.

“Because you know if I didn’t do that you were gonna leave me high and dry as if nothing ever happened.” 

“You’re high all the fucking time, Namjoon. I should’ve left you when I went banging on the door and you were sleeping with someone else, using needles. I needed to protect myself from the mess that is your life. So don’t try to spin this on me.”

“I’m not trying to spin this on anyone, and this is not the way to greet someone who almost just died.”

“And I wonder why that was. I wonder what would have happened if you listened to me from the fucking beginning. If only you actually took in what I said.” You take a deep breath because you’re shaking now, l the image of him on the floor popping up, remembering how only moments ago you were so scared to lose him. 

“Okay, okay. Just calm down, baby,” he reaches his arm out, but you back away from it, shaking your head. You’re done.

“You can be a real bad motherfucker sometimes, Namjoon, and I hope you someday realize that doesn’t make you a man, or even anything at all. It just makes everything worse for you because I can’t do this anymore. I should’ve called it quits a long time ago.” 

“So what the hell are you saying? You’re gonna leave me after all we’ve been through together?” 

“All we’ve been through is utter shit. Don’t you get it? We won’t survive going on like this. I hardly even know you. I didn’t even know your last name was Kim, so don’t start with that bullshit. I never want to see you again. You hear me? I’m blocking you on everything, so never come by or even attempt to interact with me,” You yell, and you can see the anger growing inside of Namjoon, but instead of staying to hear his side, you walk away from him.

“____, ____, baby, can’t we talk this out? You can’t be serious. Don’t you dare walk away from me. I fucking love yo—“ 

You slam the door behind you, letting out a shaky breath as you run into his parents. You can’t read the look on their faces, but you assume it’s their sympathy again. You don’t want their sympathy, you just want them to get their son to stay the hell away from you.

“Don’t worry, I was just leaving,” You say briefly to them as you stalk out of the hospital. 

That’s it. As quickly as it began, it was over.

“Are you all packed up, ____?”  Your dad asks as he pops his head into your room. 

“Almost,” You say, grabbing a few more trinkets, unsure of the next time you’ll be coming back to this place. 

“Alright, come down when you’re ready,” Your dad replies, descending down the stairs to return to your mom and aunt. 

You grab a few more things, stuffing them into your carry on. You start to attempt at zipping up your suitcase when your phone lights up on the bed. You grab it since it’s within arms reach and look at the notification. 

It’s from Instagram, a follow request from Kim Namjoon. You almost gag and block him, but curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll through his accounts. 

His bio reads “God and Family First”. You roll your eyes, but continue. Most of it old, but a somewhat recent photo dump catches your eye. 

The caption is: “This one’s going in the history books.” You assume that he’s referring to this summer, and you find all the photos consist of you. You click out of the post, ready to block him, but catch sight of his most recent post. He looks good, holding his life guard floaty while his whistle lazily hangs from his mouth. He’s shirtless, of course, with life guard trunks on. God, he might have been an asshole and a screwup, but one thing he never was is ugly.

You sigh, looking at the photo and reminiscing about the good times you had, even though there are only a handful. 

“____!! We’re leaving!!” Your dad shouts. 

You hurriedly click off of the post and press the block button.  

Oh well, the good times might’ve been good, but the bad times were a living hell. 

Thank god that small era of your life is over.

Description|_After a devastating event, you decided to take Route 66, aka the most famous road in America. You catch a hitchhike from a seven member motorcycle gang, vying for their mysterious leader’s attention amongst the endless mountains and winding roads.

Pairing(s)|_Biker!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre(s)|_Americana, biker au, strangers to lovers, open road au

WC: 10.5 k

Warning(s)|_Swearing, use of cigarettes, brief suicidal thoughts, gun violence, blood, brief mentions of infidelity, sexually explicit content: dom jungkook, sub reader, handcuffs, unprotected sex (be safe!), multiple orgasms, semi-public sex

A/N: Here is a ff based off of Lana Del Rey’s, “Ride”. If y’all haven’t listened to that song, omg do yourself a favor and listen to it! It fits the vibe of this fic so well! I’m also soo proud of this. I wrote it so quickly (literally in like a couple of hours) and I’ve always been obsessed w the Americana aesthetic, especially Route 66. I hope you guys enjoy this cute little summer fic! :))

You rush down the road as quickly as you can, your feet giving out underneath you, your heels way too tall as your trip through large puddles on the pavement.

You sob uncontrollably, your face and hair a mess as you run down the street, needing to get away from this fucking town.

You open your phone, the torrential rain making it hard to operate as you open Siri.

“Fastest and cheapest way to get out of Chicago,” You scream into your phone over the rain.

“Sorry, I didn’t get that,” She replies in her monotone voice as you almost trip over your heels again.

“I said, fastest way- Fuck!” You scream as a car rushes into a puddle next to you, soaking you even more than you already are. You throw your phone onto the ground in anger, and it cracks instantly, broken beyond repair. Could this seriously get any worse?

“You doing alright, sweetheart?” A middle aged man asks, holding an umbrella as he looks at you with concern. You can only imagine how insane you look right now.

You don’t even have to consider his question. No, you’re not okay. You’re not even close. After your mom kicked you out because she’s sick of your partying habits, you decided to head to the mall and try to make yourself feel better by spending all your money on a really nice dress to surprise your boyfriend with. When you walked in, all you saw was him fucking your best friend. He hadn’t even cared enough to stop.

Now you have no money, no phone, a ruined outfit and a broken heart. And absolutely no where to go.

“No. I need to get out of here, fast and for cheap,” You try to explain over your sobs. Luckily, the man picks up what you’re saying. He smiles, pointing beside you.

“Take Route 66. It’ll take you all the way down to California. You’re pretty enough, I’m sure someone will give you a ride.”

You look beside you. A brown sign you hadn’t realized was there reads, “Historic Route, 66, Begin.” You quirk a brow, turning back to the man, but he’s gone, disappeared into the rain.

You decide to take his advice as you have no other option. You try to flag down the occasional car in the road, but none of them stop, instead spraying you with the dirty city water.

You hurriedly try to wave down a taxi, but your heel catches on the side of the sidewalk and you trip, falling into a giant puddle, sprawled out onto the middle of the road. You let out a desperate sob. Fuck this. Maybe you should lay down here and wait for it to all be over.

You don’t know how much time passes when you hear the loud sound of engines revving. You open your eyes, and to your surprise, you spot a couple of motorcycles pull over next to you, the smell of smoke and gas filling your nostrils.

You can hardly see how many there are, the rain making your vision blurry.

“Need a ride?” A voice asks. Without even thinking, you push yourself up, stumbling as you slowly make your way over to the biker that had spoken.

His bike is completely black, with chrome lighting decals spiraling up the body. The handles are decorated with various sorts of keychains and stickers. You look over at the man. He is dressed in all black like his bike: black cargo pants, black boots, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. The only sort of color is the silver necklace around his neck with the number 7 attached to the end, glinting at you through the darkness.

Your gaze meets his. His head is covered by a black helmet, but his eyes meet yours. They contradict the rest of his vibe, being wide and curious, drinking you in as you narrow your eyes at him.

“How do I know you’re not some kind of kidnapper?” You ask, your own voice seeming far away. His eyes squint, as if smiling.

“If I were a kidnapper, I'd be a pretty terrible one. Asking politely and taking you on a bike where everyone could see you? C’mon.”

Despite yourself, you smile. The stranger holds out a helmet for you. You hesitantly take it and place it on your head, tightening the straps and straddling the bike behind him. Honestly, what other option do you have? You have nothing here. Even if you were kidnapped, you’re sure no one would notice, let alone care.

“Hold on tight,” He says, and you follow his instructions. He revs his engine, and so do the other bikers you had forgotten were there. He takes off, the rumbling of the engine surprising you.

The bike shoots through the empty Chicago night, the rain pelting you and the sound of the bike roaring in your ears. You grip the man’s jacket as hard as you can, as this is your first time on a motorcycle. He smells like cedar wood, smoke and bad decisions.

Despite all the awful circumstances, you can feel yourself grow weary. Your eyes feel heavy as you grab onto the man harder, basking in his warmth as you drift off to sleep.

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of thundering wind. You wake with a start, your eyes darting around you as you drink in your surroundings.

For miles ahead, all you can see is road and field. Panic settles in your heart as you realize that you’re sitting on a motorcycle, your arms around a man you don’t know. In fact, your hands seem to be bound together around him so you can’t move.

The memory of last night washes over you, and your heart is broken all over again. But more than anything, you feel panic. You don’t know where you are, who the people you are with are, not to mention the lack of money and phone. You’re completely fucked.

Before you can start freaking out, the man pulls over, pulling into the lot of a small gas station you hadn’t seen before. Once he turns off the engine, you start yelling.

“Where am I? Who are you? Why the fuck are my hands-“ You scream, but he interrupts you.

“Calm down! Give me a sec,” He mutters, and you can feel him fiddling with something around your hands. You hear a click and all of a sudden you’re free. You immediately pull your hands back, practically falling off the bike, demanding answers with your eyes.

“Why the hell did you handcuff me?” You ask, eyeing the black handcuffs that he’s spinning around his finger.

“You fell asleep. I didn’t want you to fall off. Oh, by the way, in my twenty eight years of life, never have I ever seen someone fall asleep on a motorcycle. That’s impressive,” He states. Your eyebrows raise. Well, he’s definitely your elder- by five years, in fact- but he’s not a creepy old man like you had feared, so that’s good.

“I had a long night, okay? Also, why do you just have handcuffs on you?” You ask. Even though you can’t see his face, the sly look in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

You throw your hands up, turning around to storm into the gas station. You need to get a phone and call someone to come and get you. You don’t know who would at this point, but you could try.

“Hey, wait a second, where are you going?” He shouts, chasing after you.

“What could you possibly-“ Your voice catches as you turn around, meeting his stare.

He had taken his helmet off, and holy shit, is he gorgeous. His raven black hair is messy in a way that’s still sexy, his face devastatingly handsome yet one that holds a childlike mischievousness even though he’s pushing thirty. He’s much taller than you had initially realized, and his shirt hugs a body that promises strong muscles.

You feel stupid at how you become speechless, and he quirks a smile, noticing it too. He folds his arm and taps his finger against his arm, like an impatient teacher. You finally find your words, clearing your throat as your cheeks heat. You suddenly feel insecure. You must look insane right now.

“Where am I, who are you, and why did you give me a ride?” You ask the most pressing questions in your mind.

“You’re still in Illinois, but we’re close to the border of Missouri. We’re on Route 66. Y’know, the most famous road in America?” You nod, having already figured that out, and he continues, “My name is Jungkook. I’m a biker. My friends and I travel this road often, so you’re in good hands.”

He gestures to the group you hadn’t realized gathered around you. You look around, studying all their faces and finding no danger. At least, none that you can detect. They all look relatively friendly.

“The one in pink is Namjoon. Blue is Taehyung. Yellow is Hoseok, purple is Jin, green is Yoongi, orange is Jimin, and my color is black, of course,” He introduces each man who waves at you, the helmets in their hands matching their bike colors.

“Okay, now answer my last question. Why did you take me with you?” You question. Jungkook stares at you as if you had asked a dumb question.

“You needed help,” He says as if it was obvious, “plus, it’s nice to look at a pretty girl after weeks of staring at these losers.” He punctuates his sentence by punching Jimin in the chest, to which he shoves him back with a laugh.

You don’t know why your face gets red when Jungkook calls you pretty. This is definitely a weird situation you’ve gotten yourself into, but you don’t seem to be in danger. You actually find yourself kind of excited. Having been living near the start of it, you had heard of Route 66 but had never imagined yourself traveling it, let alone with nothing on you but clothes.

“C’mon, let’s freshen you up. We know the owner of this place, she’s cool,” Hoseok says as you follow him into the gas station.

It’s a cozy little place, with only a few gas pumps and a small building. You walk inside to be met with a heavily decorated area, with many stickers and memorabilia of Route 66, the most notable one being a giant, lit up cowboy hat with the gas station’s name on it.

Your newly found friends seem to be friendly with the owner, which tells you they really have taken this route a bunch of times. You make a mental note to ask why as the owner leads you behind the counter into the back room.

She hands you shorts, a T-shirt with a horse shoe on it, and boots. She leaves you to change and you freshen up in a little bathroom she has back there, feeling embarrassed by how crazy you look. You manage to wipe off your makeup and mangle your hair into a braid before pulling on your outfit. It feels a bit weird, especially since you’re used to the basic city outfits of sneakers and leggings, but it’s better than nothing.

You exit feeling better, but a little bit out of place.

“You should grab something to eat. The next rest stop is pretty far away,” Taehyung suggests. You nod and grab some snacks and a drink, placing it on the counter as he pulls out a wad of cash. Normally you would feel awkward about letting someone else pay for you, but you don’t really have another option.

As you’re checking out, your eyes narrow onto a heart that’s carved into the wall. It reads, “A+J, Route 66, 2001.” Your heart sinks at that. You and your ex had shared that out loud, fearless kind of love. Had. You hold back tears as you grab your snacks and exit the gas station with the rest of the boys.

You hop on Jungkook’s bike behind him as he revs up the engine and starts off again. You note how the other boys seem to follow him, forming into a seamless position behind him like it’s rehearsed.

Your heart lurches at the speed, but you find yourself used to it as you lean back a little, observing your surroundings. The breeze chills you a bit, notifying you that you’re definitely still in Illinois.

“So, can I ask what happened that made you lie down in the middle of the street last night?” Jungkook asks, disturbing your thoughts. You scrunch your eyebrows. You don’t like even thinking about it, much less putting it into words with him.

“No,” You state plainly, your hair whipping around your face.

“Ooh, what a mystery. Do I have the privilege of knowing where you work? How old you are? Your name?” You sigh as if giving this information is a burden.

“My name is ___. I am twenty three years old, and I am… a freelance writer,” You say hesitantly. Well, to be fair, it’s kind of true. You studied journalism but struggled to find a job after school, landing you in a permanent spot in your mom’s basement, hence why she kicked you out.

“Ah, okay, so the kind of youth that makes you stupid and a job that isn’t actually a job. Cool, I’ve picked up a rebellious stowaway,” Jungkook quips with humor in his voice. His words should sting, but they don’t, because they’re true. Honestly, they paint you better than what you are: the fuck up that still lives with her parents. You instead playfully hit him in the arm.

“Hey, you’re only five years older than me. And I would call ‘mysterious road biker’ a job, either,” You quip, expecting him to bite back, but he grows silent.

“You’d be surprised by how much can happen in five years,” He mutters so quietly you almost miss it. You decide to drop it, instead focusing your eyes on the beautiful scenery ahead of you.

It’s gorgeous, honestly, the lack of anything. Just plain fields and roads for as far as you can see. The vacancy in a world that is always busy is a nice change of pace. You hadn’t even seen someone else go by yet.

“How will it take to get to California?” You ask, suddenly excited by the destination that you had forgotten about.

“Two weeks if we’re fast. Close to a month if you want the sightseeing vibe.”

You go still.

A month… with seven strangers you don’t know, and absolutely nothing to your name.

What have you gotten yourself into?

You’re mad at Jungkook, and you’ve only known him for two days.

Yesterday, you all rode for the entire day, only stopping twice for a rest. You loved it, though, the feeling of wind in your hair and freedom pungent on your tongue.

That is, however, until Jungkook informed you that he and his friends had lost all of their gear in a “conflict” just before they picked you up. That means their tents, sleeping bags, and even their car that they kept all their shit in.

For sleeping arrangements, Namjoon had dragged all eight of you a mile off the road until he deemed it was safe, under a tree, barely concealed from the main road so there was really no point. You had slept fretfully, the ground not soothing your muscles since you were sore from sleeping on a motorcycle the night before, and little ants biting your ass.

You woke up before everyone else, and had spotted Jungkooo perched on a rock, watching the sunrise as it peeked above the mountains. You had wordlessly joined him, watching as the darkness gave way to colors you had never seen in Chicago, a watercolor of soft blues and pinks and oranges that you wished you could engrave into your head forever. As if he could read your thoughts, he spoke.

“Don’t worry too much. You’ll see it tomorrow morning, too. And the next. I think I’ve seen this exact sunrise a million times,” He said breathlessly. You peeked over at him, admiring his face that was washed in sunlight orange.

“Don’t you get sick of it?” You asked. His eyes had slowly met yours. He didn’t speak for a few seconds, building up your anticipation for what he was about to say.

“Would you?” He answered simply. You peeked back at the sunrise, and after a few moments, you shook your head no. You somehow knew he smiled without even looking at him.

He had left as quietly as you had arrived, but you had stayed long after, staring at the sky until the colors melted away into its normal, bright blue. You made a silent vow to come and watch this, every single day, no matter what.

That interaction with Jungkook had left you feeling fluttery, and you had even felt too flushed to grab onto him on the motorcycle when you all had left this morning.

But now? Oh, now you’re pissed off at him. You are currently straddling his bike, watching him with your arms crossed as he thumbs out bills. He had stopped a poor man trying to travel the road to offer him what has to be thousands of dollars for his car and all the gear he has on him.

“… we’ll leave it in Santa Monica, at the local hospital, in tip-top shape, I promise,” You hear Jungkook say, holding out so many wads of cash he could barely even hold it. You watch as the man looks back and forth between the money and his red, five seater convertible.

“Deal,” He finally says, and Jungkook and all of his friends jump up in joy. You jump in surprise as they all run towards you. Jimin and Taehyung practically pull the bike from underneath you. Jungkook just barely saves you from falling on your ass by grabbing your arm and pulling you forward.

He pulls you towards the convertible as Jimin and Taehyung load his and their bikes into the trunk and backseat, hopping in the back with a laugh. Your face scrunches.

“C’mon, get in!” Jungkook exclaims, opening the passenger door and pushing you inside. You yelp as he hops over the driver's door.

“Why me?” You yell loudly over all the excitement. He laughs manically as he starts the engine.

“You’ve never been in a nice ass convertible in the middle of nowhere, have you, City Girl?” He asks, not bothering to put on his seatbelt as he revs the engine a few times before taking off, the car swerving back and forth a few times before shooting away. You grip the sides of the open vehicle, your heart racing. You glance at the man who you had gotten this car from in the review mirror, watching as he stands aimlessly in the middle of the road, watching you all leave.

“So we’re just leaving that guy there? He isn’t gonna get his car back?” You question as you notice the remaining members form a circle around the car, and you shoot a nervous smile at Namjoon who is flanking your side.

“He said he has a friend who can give him a ride at a gas station down the road. Plus, we’ll leave the car somewhere in Cali where he can get it. Probably,” Jungkook tells you.

“Probably? What does that mea- whoa!” Your sentence is interrupted as Jungkook speeds up immensely.

“Is it legal to go this fast?!” You scream, clutching the outside of your door as the car swerves slightly from the high speed.

“No, its Route fucking 66!” Jungkook yells in response, his laughter echoing throughout your ears.

“C’mon, ___, live a little!” You hear Jimin shout from the backseat. You turn around to see them both standing up, their hands in the hair as they laugh.

Jimin's words ring throughout your head. The whole purpose of this trip is to leave everything about your past life behind, including who you once were. This is about stepping outside of your comfort zone. And if you could put standing up in a convertible going 90 miles per hour down on the board, it would be about as far from your comfort zone as you could get.

Slowly, you stand up, gripping the windshield. You’re surprised about how ferocious the wind is, slapping you in the face. Your heart is pounding as you stand up.

You look around. Holy shit. Are you flying? It feels like you’re flying! A giggle escapes your throat as you slowly take your hand off the windshield, letting your arms stretch out on either side.

Adrenaline pumps through your body as the car and the motorcycles shoot down the road. You rip the hair tie out of your hair, wanting to feel your hair fly around your head, relishing in the wind's vicious bite, wanting to feel every real aspect of this moment, good or not, because it was perfect nonetheless.

Your stomach grumbles Jungkook pulls into what seems to be a little diner off the road. After two whole days of living off of rest stop snacks, you're relieved to finally have a real dinner.

“Mama Gray’s Diner is the best restaurant on Route 66, I’ll tell you that much,” Jimin retorts from the backseat. Your stomach rumbles louder as you can hardly wait, jumping out of the car.

Luckily, you had found a little brush so you could tame your hair a bit. What you really crave is a shower, but Jungkook promised this diner would have everything you all would need to “rejuvenate yourselves”. You don't know if you really trust his idea of “rejuvenate”, but you have no option but to go along with it anyway.

You walk into the diner, a little bell dinging as you do. You immediately notice how good the air smells, like fresh french fries. Your mouth practically waters at the aroma. The space is small, with a bar on one side and an arrangement of booths on the other facing a wall that is a window from top to bottom that shows the view of the endless road. You have found that the sunsets are just as beautiful as the sunrises.

A waitress leads you all to your booths, you, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung filling up one, and the rest filling up the other. You immediately order a sweet tea, the Mama Gray burger and a milkshake. You start munching on the table bread as the rest finish up their order.

“So, ___, what-“ Hoseok starts.

“Nuh-uh. You guys have been asking me about me this entire time. I wanna know about you guys,” You point your straw at them as the waitress places down your drinks. A soft, jazzy song plays from a jukebox in the corner, filling the space with a nice ambience. Hoseok quirks a smile, leaning back.

“Okay, then, shoot.”

“Well, first of all, how long have you all been friends?” You question, sipping on your tea.

“Shit, longer than I can remember. Ten years? Maybe more?” Jimin replies, his eyes full of memories. You whistle.

“Wow, you guys are old,” You comment. The others laugh.

“That’s easy to say when you’re young,” Namjoon says. You raise a brow.

“What’s the point of driving Route 66 so many times? What do you guys do?” You question. They all look at each other quickly but long enough for you to be suspicious. You narrow your eyes at them.

“We just love it. It’s an escape for us, y’know? Every summer we take one month to just ride. It’s freeing,” Jimin explains. You don’t really buy it, but you decide to keep your mouth shut. Your ears perk up at a chuckle, your eyes drifting over to Jungkook, who’s laughing at something Taehyung had said. He catches your eye before giving you a quirky grin, and you can’t help but smile.

“What about Jungkook?” You ask, tearing your eyes away and meeting Namjoon’s knowing stare. He had obviously been watching you.

“He’s kind of like our leader. He’s the youngest, but he has a really good sense of leadership. He’s chaotic and wild, but he also knows what’s best for our group and keeps us safe,” He replies thoughtfully, and you relish in his answer as the food finally arrives.

You scarf it down, not caring in the slightest to appear ladylike. The burger is perfect, the meat juicy with a crunch from the onions and lettuce and a bite from the spicy mayo. The fries complete it, and you practically moan when you taste the milkshake. You can see why they praise this place so much.

You’re practically licking the plate when you’re done, feeling satisfyingly full.

“Follow me,” Namjoon says, so you do as he and the boys push through a door in the back. It leads outside to a small area in the back of the diner.

A large canopy is set up, with a bunch of mismatched pillows and blankets littering a fluffy carpet that sits on top of the grass. To the left are a couple of porta potties and three outside showers. In front of the canopy is a large projector screen, playing an old movie. You notice that the convertible is parked back here, kind of like a drive-in movie.

“Here you go, ma’am, ladies first” Jungkook bows dramatically, handing you a pair of comfy shorts and a T-shirt, pointing to one of the showers. You have realized that when you’re on the road, you kind of take whatever clothes you can get. At least you’ll finally be wearing something somewhat comfortable.

You offer him a faux annoyed look before heading to the shower. Luckily, it has a curtain, so you can shower in private. It’s the first real shower you’ve had in forever. It’s not luxurious by any means, but you feel like a new woman once you exit.

The sky is dark, stars dotting the black canvas as you all settle onto the blankets. Everyone falls asleep almost immediately, but you can’t for some reason, staring at the stars. You can’t help but wonder if your ex is looking at them too. Maybe he’s thinking of you. Or maybe he’s watching them with your best friend, pointing out constellations and whispering sweet nothings.

Your heart wrenches, and you have to sit up, panic settling in suddenly. You stare absentmindedly at the movie. You need a smoke.

You walk over to the parked car, hopping into the passenger seat and pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter you had found in the glove box. A bad habit of yours; another reason your mom had kicked you out.

The smoke fills your lungs, and a sense of relief washes over you.

“I can’t sleep either,” You hear a soft voice say from behind you. Jungkook slides into the seat beside you. You notice him eye the cigarette between your fingers, and you roll your eyes.

“Just say it. I’m too young to be doing this, or it’s bad for me, or-“

“No, I was just gonna ask for one,” He interrupts.

Your eyebrows raise involuntarily at his answer. You don’t know why you’re shocked; he’s obviously a motorcycle riding delinquent, but it still shocks you when you hand him one and he actually takes it. He pushes the cigarette between his lips, waiting for you to light it for him.

Your breath catches as you turn on the lighter, the uncertain licks of flames matching the uneven beating in your heart. You hold the lighter to the end of his cigarette until it glows, and Jungkook’s pressing gaze never leaves your eyes once.

You place the lighter in the cup holder, looking ahead and trying to focus on the movie, but you can’t. You can still feel his gaze on yours, the smell of smoke flooding your nose.

“Why are you looking at me?” You ask without meeting his eyes. You hear him sigh.

“You’re curious to me, ____. I hardly know anything about you. I found you in a weird way, yet you refuse to tell us anything about your life besides the basics, so excuse me for being curious,” He mutters. You finally look over at him, anger flaring in your chest.

“Why would I tell a stranger my whole life story? I don’t know anything about you either,” You quip back, looking away and staring at the mountains in the distance. Silence rings between you two, the only thing breaking the quiet night being the muffled, vintage voices from the movie.

A breeze flutters through your hair, and you shiver. It gets hot during the day, but at night it cools down a lot, and you don’t have so much as a blanket. You jump slightly when you feel Jungkook wrap his leather jacket around you, and you instantly feel warmer and comforted by his smell, the small action seeming so grand.

“Four years ago, while we were on the road, we had a run in with our rivals. To get back at me for something, they shot and killed my fiancé. I was devastated, and I blamed myself for the longest time. I still do. I miss her so much, every single day. Some days are harder than others. This was her favorite spot…” He trails off for a second before clearing his throat and continuing, “but I keep going. Route 66 was her safe space. I will continue to honor her, and try to be happy. As much as you can be.”

His confession rings loudly in your ears. You don’t speak. You don’t offer your condolences. How can you? In that situation, no amount of pity can ever make anything feel better. Instead you sit in silence, one of understanding. One that offers comfort without the harshness and reality of words.

“The night you found me, I had just walked in on my best friend and boyfriend together. I went to his house because I was upset since my mom kicked me out of her house. It felt like the world was ending, so I saw no point of staying. When you saw me, that was the lowest I’ve ever been. It felt like no one wanted me. Both of them had been the most important people in my life. I haven’t talked about it because every time I do, it tears my heart open all over again. I don’t want sympathy, I just want to forget.”

Thankfully, Jungkook offers the same thing you had offered him: quiet understanding. Your problems suddenly seem so small next to his, but he still remains silent, mourning for you as well.

Then, wordlessly, he wraps his arm around yours, and you quietly slip into sleep, basking in his warmth, relishing in a new sense of relief.

You blow a bubble with the bubblegum in your mouth, your arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist as you fly through the late June Oklahoma air.

After a week and a half with Jungkook and his friends, you guys are creeping up on the halfway point. You have grown to love your new lifestyle. Every time you feel a twinge of pain, you replace it by driving as fast as you can in the convertible, or have a drink at a small off the road bar.

Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook since you woke up in his arms at the drive-in movie. There are some traditions that you have now, like how you always ride on his bike, or how he always pays for your food and outfits. You’ve realized he likes dressing you up, especially in traditional “Route 66 Fashion”, as he calls it.

Today, you’re wearing something more impractical than usual: a mini red gingham dress with matching converse and a red bow holding up your ponytail. It’s hard to find cute outfits out here, but you manage.

You take a sip from your glass Coke bottle, the flavor mixing with your bubblegum as you look over at the convertible, watching as Jimin drives it recklessly (which is saying a lot for this group) as Taehyung eggs him on in the backseat. You can’t help but smile at this.

Jungkook waves an arm, and everyone pulls over. You scrunch your eyebrows, pushing yourself off the bike. There aren’t any rest stops, so there’s no need to be stopped right now.

“Why are we stopped?” You question, placing down your soda and popping your gum. Jungkook watches you with an amused look as you cross your arms.

“I think it’s finally time we teach you how to ride a bike,” He answers. You immediately shake your head, your ponytail swishing around your shoulders.

“Nope. Absolutely not,” You say. You had only bothered to get your license two years ago after your mother made you, and you suck at operating a car, let alone a tiny bike with two wheels.

“Come on, what happened to taking risks? Isn’t that what you want?” Taehyung muses from the car, hitting a sensitive spot he knew he would. He’s right, but it doesn’t make you any less nervous.

The boys cheer as you hesitantly get onto the drivers seat of Jungkook’s bike, gnawing on your lip as you pull your helmet back on.

“Just relax. It’s amazing, okay? Just start the engine, kick back, and ride,” He says dramatically, and you roll your eyes at him in an attempt to hide your nerves.

You follow his instructions and start the engine. Although you’ve felt this rumble for the past almost two weeks, it feels stranger now that you’re the driver. You take a deep breath, and kick off.

At first, the bike swerves back and forth, refusing to listen to you. You scream as you almost topple over, just barely catching yourself.

“Just let go, ___! Just go!” You hear Hoseok yell from behind you. You take a deep breath in and then speed up, shooting off into the distance.

After a few moments, you start to get the hang of it. The bike purrs underneath you, and you continue to rev the engine, egging the bike to go faster and faster. Oh, you like this. You like this a lot.

A laugh escapes your lips as you shoot faster down the road, dust clouds in your wake. This is different from driving the convertible or sitting in the back seat of Jungkook’s bike. Now you really, truly feel like you’re riding.

“Shit! You’re a fucking natural!” You hear Jimin yell from as the convertible pulls up beside you, this time with Jungkook in the backseat. He shoots you a proud smile you never want to forget.

You suddenly realize you’re in the front, leading the group, and you feel an overwhelming sense of joy, and suddenly, you understand everything. You understand why these men take this route so often, why they ride until dark. It takes away the pain, the sorrow, the fear, and leaves it all behind you in the open road, swirling in a cloud of dust until it disappears forever.

“At this point, it’s your bike, not mine,” Jungkook remarks as he watches you press another pink sticker against his sleek black bike.

“Maybe it should be,” You quip back, to which he chuckles in response. You stand up and brush off your shorts, turning around and looking at the dingy motel you’d have to sleep in tonight.

Since they had blown all their money on the convertible, they saved money by mostly sleeping in the car or on the side of the road, but now, after all of your begging, they had finally agreed to getting a motel for one night.

Besides, it isn’t just any night: it’s the fourth of July. You love this holiday for many reasons, but when you were a kid, your mom would always fill up the little inflatable pool in the backyard and make homemade popsicles while you splashed around with you dog-

You stop yourself. Those memories are long gone, and the place you had made those memories in are gone for you, too. There’s no point in dwelling in them. Still, you had dressed up: throwing on an off the shoulder American flag T-shirt and a matching bandana. You had even conjured up some makeup on your face, for the first time in weeks.

“You look nice,” Jungkook comments, gazing at you as the sunset washes him in a deep orange glow. You twist the ends of your hair, playing with a smile before walking away, leaving him waiting. The little crush you have formed on Jungkook has grown into something more pressing- something that’s getting hard for the both of you to ignore.

Apparently, the girl working the desk has a big crush on Yoongi and he thinks he can get you all your own rooms. You really hope so. It gets tiring to be around people 24/7, and you crave a real shower more than anything.

The motel is small, with two stories and twenty four windows. The boys all park their bikes and the car in the lot before walking up to the customer service desk, and you notice the young blonde working the counter immediately peeking up. They really must travel this route often- it feels like everywhere you guys go, they know everyone they see and are able to pull some strings.

“Hello, boys, nice to see you all again. How can I help you?” She asks, and you don’t miss the dirty look she shoots your way. Yoongi leans forward on the desk, and her face immediately flushes.

“We have kind of a problem. We’re out of money, and we need a place to sleep for the night. Can you help us out?” He asks, a charm the quiet man doesn’t usually have suddenly turning on. She bites on her lip flirtatiously.

“Maybe I’ll look past it if I’m somehow distracted tonight…” She trails off.

“Perfect, I’ll be a great distraction,” He turns around, a wide grin on his face, “boys, er, people, we have a place to stay tonight.”

You hardly spend time celebrating before you are sprinting to your room, rushing in and flopping on the bed. You groan from how good it feels to have an actual comforter beneath you.

You heat up a meal you had gotten from a diner this morning and hop in the shower. You hadn’t realized how much of a luxury hot water is, but you relish in the feeling as it races down your body, washing away all of the dirt from weeks on the road.

Once you’re finished, you dry your hair and put your clothes back on. You flop on the bed with your food and turn on the TV, flipping to a random channel to watch. It feels amazing: the ac, the warm meal, the blankets, a mattress, and finally something to watch other than the road. You feel like yourself again.

Once you’re finished with your food, you can help but think about your life back home. Does your mom miss you? Does your ex wonder where you went? Has your best friend called you?

Your eyes float to the phone sitting on the nightstand, and you feel a sudden urge to call someone. You don’t know who, but your hand reaches out, and before you know it you’re dialing your ex boyfriend’s number. You want to ask him if he misses you, or, more importantly, if he feels bad about what he did to you.

Before you press the last number, you drop the phone, horrified by what you were just about to do. No, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of hearing your voice, of knowing you were okay. You wanted them all to bask in their actions and regret, forever wondering where you went. You wouldn’t give them closure.

To destroy the urge to call them, you get up, stuffing the keys in your pocket and pushing open the door to your room, fighting back the urge to cry. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you need to leave.

You notice a fire escape ladder that leads to the roof, so you take it, climbing up hurriedly. It’s dark now, the stars twinkling in the sky above you. Suddenly, you feel suffocated. Suffocated by the endless winding roads, the looming mountains and the vastness in every direction. You somehow feel claustrophobic in an endless landscape.

Tears escape your eyes as you come to a sudden, desperate realization: you want to go home.

On the roof, you spot him. Jungkook. Of course. He’s always fucking there, always having the same ideas as you as if you two share the same mind. He’s laying on a blanket, sipping a beer with his head cranked upwards, watching the stars. He hears your crying and turns around.

“___? What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

“I’m tired of feeling like I’m fucking crazy!” You scream, suddenly wanting to release all of this energy, “I’m sick of this shit, of pretending I’m fine when I’m not!”

“__-“

“No, I don’t want your words or your stupid pity. I want to go home, okay? I don’t want this. I didn’t want any of this!” You yell, gesturing around you.

He stares at you for a few seconds, his head cranked to the side slightly, his eyebrows furrowed as he watches you.

“I was just going to ask if you want to watch the fireworks with me,” He states simply. You sniff for a second, a little shocked at his reaction. You sigh before sitting down beside him, leaning back on your hands and looking up at the sky.

“There’s a small town a little bit down there, and they always do a little firework show on the fourth- oh, look, it’s starting!” He points, and you can’t help but crack a little smile as a golden firework explodes in the air and rains down, disappearing into the mountains.

You watch as the fireworks light up the sky, and you exert all your energy into imagining yourself as one of them: exploding into a million little brilliant pieces and then raining down until you vanish into nothing at all.

You breath hitches as you feel his large hand slip over yours, his rough skin feeling so comforting against your hand. You look over at him to find that he’s already watching you.

“The road helps, but it never makes the pain go away. No matter how far you go away from it, it’ll always be there. But it’s up to you to decide how to deal with it. Don’t imagine it being left behind. Instead, take it and use it. Use it for a reason to go on, use it for a reason to be happy, use it to motivate you. You have to utilize it, ___. Don’t let those people have control over you, don’t let the pain control you. You have to control it.”

You look up at him, your heart swelling for the man in front of you. You can see the fireworks’ reflection in his endlessly midnight black eyes, and you can even see yourself. You see yourself choosing between two things: letting your agony command you, or the opposite.

And, goddamnit, you never let anything control you, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

With this realization, you lean forward and you kiss Jungkook, right as the final firework explodes overhead: a glittering explosion of red white and blue, painting the sky with its magnificent colors as it rains down onto the horizon, and the world finally goes quiet again.

You don’t even realize that the fireworks have stopped, though, because a million are going off in your heart as Jungkook kisses you. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, with a hunger like he’s been waiting for a million years to do just this.

“Jungkook,” You moan softly as he intertwines his fingers with your hair, pulling your head back to give himself more access. He latches his mouth onto your neck, sucking and biting in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach.

His hands slowly trail down your body, his curious fingers exploring everywhere, but not once where you need him most. His hand hooks under your thigh and he pulls you on top of him, allowing you to straddle him. You can feel that he’s already growing hard underneath you, his cock pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but grind down on him, to which you both moan at the delicious friction. You can’t believe you’re doing this right now in the open, but you can’t conjure it up in yourself to care.

His fingers linger on your shoulder, where your T-shirt is falling off, revealing your bra strap. Goosebumps pebble your skin in wake of his touch, lighting your entire body with flames.

“Can I touch you?” He asks in a low voice, looking up at you with hooded eyes. You nod embarrassingly fast. He chuckles a bit at this before slowly pulling your shirt down your shoulder, allowing it to pool around your waist.

Jungkook’s hand reaches behind you, successfully unstrapping your bra with one hand. He slowly lets it falls down, and your nipples immediately pebble due to the cold air. He stares at you as if you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.

A loud moan leaves your mouth as he slowly brings his mouth to your breast, sucking slowly but thoughtfully. It feels so fucking good you can’t help but grip his hair, pulling him down further.

Jungkook’s hand sneaks to your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple as he sucks on the other one. The sounds leaving your lips become more frequent and louder as his actions begin to speed up, pleasure shooting down your body.

You can’t help but continue to rock on him, the friction through both of your jeans causing your climax to build embarrassingly quickly. But between what he’s doing to your breasts and the pleasure you feel grinding against his cock, you’re already freezing up, your orgasm about to rip through you.

Before you can, though, Jungkook pulls you off him. You whine, euphoria being ripped away from you so suddenly. He smirks at you almost cruelly at your reaction, laying you down on the blanket.

“You asshole,” You mutter under your breath. You notice Jungkook fish something out of his jacket.

“That’s not very nice, is it? Do I need to punish you, ___?” He asks you in a low voice. You bite your lip. You have to admit, being punished by him doesn’t sound so bad. He raises a brow at your lack of a response.

To your surprise, he presents the handcuffs he had used to bind your hands together, right after he found you in Chicago. He flips you over so you’re laying on your stomach. Without warning, he forcefully pins your hands around your back, snapping the handcuffs around your wrists, rendering you incapable of moving.

“I’ll teach you how to respect your fucking elders,” He whispers in your ear before leaning back, the comfort of his warmth leaving you. He leaves you like for a few moments, all hot and bothered while waiting for him to do something.

You’re about to ask where he went when you suddenly feel him tug on your shorts, lifting your legs so he can pull them off. Your shirt and panties follow, leaving you completely naked in the middle of nowhere.

You’re dripping wet, and the cool air causes you to take a sharp inhale as you wait for Jungkook to do anything. You yelp when he smacks your ass, not once, but twice, leaving a delicious sting in his wake.

You suddenly feel one singular finger trace up your spine, and you can’t help but arch against his touch, desperate for anything.

Once his finger reaches your hair, he grabs a hold of it and then forces your head to the ground, your ass up in the air for him. You practically whine in excitement when you hear his fly go down. You also kind of like how vulnerable you feel, with him being fully clothed and with you baring yourself to him, completely susceptible to whatever he pleases.

You arch back further when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, coating himself in your essence before forcing himself inside. He does it so harshly you can’t help but yelp into the night, the echo of your own voice ringing in your ears. You pull on your handcuffs, desperate to cling onto something, but to no yield.

With one hand in your hair he fucks himself into you, so hard and so fast you can barely compute it. He’s so big; he fills you up completely and wholly. Just like with simple ideas like watching the sunrises, and even now with how naturally you two seem to fit together, as if it were always meant to be like this, you two just seem to share the exact same mind.

Jungkook slams into you ruthlessly, causing you to cry out his name over and over again. He grips your hip so hard that you think it might bruise, pushing you back into him and fucking you somehow even harder. You pull against your restraints harder, desperate to touch him, to grab onto something to help you deal with the immense pleasure you’re feeling right now.

“That’s right, tell the entire route that you’re my little whore,” He growls.

“Kook!” You yelp on a particularly hard thrust, and he grips you even harder at the nickname you had accidentally given him.

“Yes, fuck yes, say it louder,” You comply, no worry in the world about who could be listening.

Your climax crashes into you suddenly, and you chant his name over and over again, your wrists pulling at the cuffs. Your entire body shivers, but Jungkook never stops.

“Please, let me touch you,” You beg. With a growl of approval he quickly pulls off the handcuffs and flips you around so you’re facing him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to fuck you even deeper.

After the first throes of overstimulation pass, you begin to moan, pleasure building up again. Jungkook’s hand sits on the side of your neck, offering small kisses all over you. You desperately kiss him back, suddenly touch starved from him.

His thrusts become slower and more unsteady as he reaches the end, practically bending you in half as he lovingly continues to kiss you all over. His once dirty words turn sweet.

“You’re so beautiful, ___, you’re fucking perfect for me,” His voice sends shivers up your spine as your orgasm builds up once again.

“Come with me, baby,” He says, and you comply, throwing your head back as you do so. Stars form in your eyes from the pleasure, and you can’t tell them apart from the actual stars in the sky, letting them blend together until all you see is light, the only thing on your mind being the man on top of you.

Jungkook slows down as he releases into you, his breaths heavy. The two of you don’t separate for a long while, living simply in this moment, basking in each other’s presence. When he finally does pull out, it leaves you feeling empty. He pulls you close, putting your head in his shoulder and lightly patting your head.

You weren’t a virgin, but that was definitely by far the best sex you’ve ever had. You get all hot just thinking about it, wanting him all over again. Then, you get hot for another reason.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” You ask, your face red from embarrassment.

“There’s no one out here, and everyone’s on the bottom floor and asleep already. We’re fine,” He assures you, and you let out a breath of relief.

After a few moments of silence, you get up, pulling your clothes back on. Jungkook stares up at you with puppy dog eyes as if he didn’t just rearrange your organs.

“Where are you going?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice. You roll your eyes.

“To pee, unless you want me to get a UTI. Plus, I am not giving up a night in a warm bed,” You remark. As much as you want to stay here with him, you want a comfortable bed even more.

“Can I come with you?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. You offer him a smirk.

“Sure, a bed warmer would be nice,” You quip as you go down the ladder, laughing as he eagerly follows like a lost dog.

“___, those marks on your wrist are worrying me. Did something happen last night?” Taehyung asks knowingly, pulling out of the motel lot. You had opted to ride in the car today, but you immediately regret it, your face growing beet red. You place sunglasses on your face, looking away.

“I had hair ties on,” You quickly lie, watching Jungkook pull out from the lot beside you, sending you a quick wink. Fuck, you love how good he looks while riding. His chain hangs down over his tight black T-shirt, and your mind can’t help but wander to when those hands that are gripping the handles had gripped you the same way last night.

“Damn, those are tight ass, big ass hair ties, then,” Taehyung remarks. You bury your head in your hands, embarrassment taking over. He chuckles, patting your back a few times.

“It’s okay. He’s a good guy, and he deserves someone like you,” He reassures, and when you meet his gaze, he shoots you a soft smile that you return.

Over the next week, you feel as though you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. You all cross into the last state before the final destination, Arizona, and you can’t help but feel a sense of dread that this will all be over soon.

Every time you do, though, or feel anything about back home, you go to Jungkook. He either makes you scream until you forget everything, or takes you on cute little dates. Like a few days ago when he took an entire day to hike up the mountains and show you his favorite constellations until you fell asleep in his arms.

It’s hard to describe your relationship, so you two don’t. It’s just an understanding that you’re both there for each other when past traumas pop up.

Today marks it: only three days left until you reach California. Sadness has been pricking at you all day, so Jungkook resolved to make you feel better by stopping at a cute little shopping strip along the road. Usually you left your clothes behind in odd places along the route and took whatever you could get, so it feels good to finally have something to actually own.

Jungkook wraps his arm around you as you squeal over the bags in your arms. He doesn’t mind that his friends know about you two, the general consensus being to not speak about it.

“I’m so excited. Thank you, Jungkook,” You say, looking up at you. He presses a quick peck to your lips before smiling.

“Of course, baby. Once we get to Cali, I’ll get some more money and I’ll properly spoil you,” He says with a grin before letting out a quick “oh!” and reaching into his bag, “I forgot to give you this.”

Jungkook hands you a small sticker in the shape of a heart that has both of your initials on it, colored and obnoxious pink. You giggle.

“I thought you said no more stickers on your bike,” You remark.

“I think this one will be okay,” He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. You both are interrupted by Namjoon screaming from beside you.

“Get down!” Before you can even process it, Jungkook pushes you onto the ground, covering you as a loud boom sounds, shattering the glass from the store behind you.

You realize with a beat of panic that they’re gunshots. You look over to see Yoongi and Namjoon duck behind their bikes, whipping out guns you didn’t know they had and shooting at people you could see.

Your heartbeat grows faster as you crank your head around. A line of ten men, maybe more, all with motorcycle helmets are shooting at you all.

Jungkook pushes you against his bike, taking out his own gun. He peeks out, shooting a few times before ducking back under. His erratic eyes shoot towards you. A bullet just barely whizzes by your side. He swears under his breath. The bike isn’t big enough to cover both of you.

“___, listen to me, okay? I’m going to distract them. When I say ‘go’, you need to hide behind the convertible. Okay?” You nod your head quickly, your hands shaking as another bullet hits the wall in front of you.

“Okay, three, two, one, go!” He yells, popping above the bike and shooting at someone. You immediately kick up and sprint away towards the convertible, running faster than you ever have before.

You’re almost behind the convertible when you step on a piece of glass, slipping on it and falling to the ground. Your head hits the concrete, and you groan as it rings, pain echoing through your skull.

Before you can get up to go behind the car, you feel something pierce your stomach. You scream as pain shoots up your entire body, paralyzing you completely. You try to hold your wound, but blood is pouring out so much it’s no use. You hear someone scream your name, but your vision goes blurry.

You don’t feel fear anymore. You don’t feel anything anymore, except for the warmth of your own blood lulling you to sleep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Your eyes flutter open. The smell of disinfectant fills your nostrils. You groan as you try to sit up, but pain stops you. You look around. You’re seemingly in a hospital room.

“___!” You hear a familiar voice shout. Suddenly, Jungkook is on top of you, hugging you tightly. You hug him back, suddenly relieved that he’s here and that your whole road trip wasn’t just some weird dream.

“___, how are you feeling?” A soft voice asks from beside you. You turn your head over to look at a doctor, watching you with a concerned look as she taps on her clipboard.

“My side hurts, and I feel kind of out of it, but I’m fine. Where am I? What happened?” You ask. The doctor smiles at you.

“You’re at a hospital in California. You were involved in a gun attack and suffered from a gunshot wound around two weeks ago. Jungkook here saved your life. By all means, you should’ve been dead. You lost so much blood you went into a coma, and we didn’t think you would make it through the night. But you’re a fighter,” She tells you, to which you smile weakly in response, “you’re healing amazingly, and you should be released in the next one to two weeks.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand and you meet his eyes, ones that are full of tears and relief as he hugs you again.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” The doctor says before softly closing the door behind her.

“I was so scared I was going to loose you just like… fuck, I’m so sorry, ___. I shouldn’t have brought you into this. I shouldn’t have-“ You interrupt him by placing a hand on his cheek.

“Shh, it’s okay, Jungkook. You didn’t bring me into anything. I made this decision. Can you just tell me what happened? Are you all okay?” You ask, to which he sighs, swallowing back his tears.

“Yes, for the most part. They’re all okay. We fought our asses off after you went down, but we decided it was best to run and leave them to the police. I’ve never run from a fight before. Ever. But I did it for you,” He whispers the last part, leaving a kiss on your lips which you smile into.

“I haven’t slept a bit. I’ve been so worried. I couldn’t imagine losing you. It’s stupid, I know, but I felt like my world was being torn away from me. I don’t really know how to say this, or if it’s too early or some shit, but-“

“I love you too,” You say, not wanting to keep it in any longer, suddenly taken aback by how much truth is in those words. His eyes widen before he smiles, kissing you again and pressing his forehead against yours, basking in your presence and bathing in the silence, like you two usually do.

“Come here, let me show you something,” He says, offering his arm. You take it and he lifts you up slowly, gently bringing you to the window. You can see the palm trees in the distance, swaying in the breeze as you smile. You made it, you traveled thousands of miles across Route 66. Albeit the ending was a bit unusual, you still made it.

In the hospital parking lot, you notice the seven motorcycles, except there’s one extra. It’s a sleek, crimson red, with a sun on the side, mimicking the sunsets and sunrises you loved watching while on the road. Jungkook lifts up a pair of keys, clicking to once as the bike beeps in response. To your surprise, he hands the keys to you. Your mouth drops open.

“That’s for me?” You ask in surprise. He nods lightly, and you can’t help but pull him into a hug.

“It’s beautiful,” You whisper. When you pull back, Jungkook stares at you lovingly. He then pulls both of your hands into his.

“___, I’m not perfect by any means. I put you in danger, and you’ve left your entire life behind for this. But I want you to be on the road with me. I want you to be my Route 66 sunrise, something I can look at every day and never get tired of. Will you do that for me?” He asks. You smile. For a second, when you look into his eyes, all you see are the eyes of the kind man who helped a strange girl off of the road and saved her.

He saved you.

“Yes,” You answer, having never been more sure of anything in your life.

Just barely, in the distance, you can hear Lana Del Rey’s “Ride” playing over the radio:

“I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast, I am alone at midnight.

Been trying hard not to get into trouble, but I, I’ve got a war in my mind.

I just ride.”

Description:You’re a junior in college in 2014, and you’re a walking Tumblr moodboard. Lace chokers, glittery space buns and ripped fishnets. So unwritten rules dictate that you should avoid the goody-two shoes freshman Jeon Jungkook. Too bad you’re not good at following rules, anyway.

Pairing(s):Bad!Girl! Reader x Good!Boy! Jungkook

Genre(s):College au, strangers to lovers, 2014

Warning(s):Smoking, vaping, mentions of addiction, swearing, a sickening amount of early 2010s references, drinking, mentions of drugs, age gap (she’s 21 and he’s 18), all of bts is annoying af besides jk, sexually explicit content: dry humping, public sex, handjob, fingering, protected sex, virgin jungkook, experienced reader

WC:17.8k

A/N: Sorry for such a long wait but taco truck is finally here!! I’m so obsessed with this pairing and au omg reader is exactly who I wanted to be in 2014 (so maybe this is a little bit of projecting lmao). I hope you guys enjoy, I especially all my 2010 references that I pulled from the corners of my mind 😮‍💨

Song: Taco Truck By Lana Del Rey

You tap your foot against your dashboard along to the beat of the song you’re blasting, bringing your vape to your lips to suck in the strawberry-flavored air, closing your eyes with a satisfied sigh.

Your car is small, so it doesn’t take long for the space to fill with smoke. The gentle rays of the September sun warms you as you pop a piece of gum in your mouth and take another hit, coughing slightly. It is the first day of school for junior year at your university, and you would need this to get through the day.

Your peace is interrupted by a sudden knock that comes at your door. Jumping up, you pop open the door to see who it is.

“___! It’s only the first day of school and you’re already late for class and hotboxing your own car? Get the fuck out!” Taehyung, the campus security guard, lectures you. He leans against your car, dramatically waving the smoke out of his face. You roll your eyes. He always takes it upon himself to try and parent you, although you’re not sure why. He’s not that much older than you are, and you’re just not sure why he cares so much.

“And why do you think this year would be any different, Taehyung?” You ask, leaning back in your seat. It’s true; you probably haven’t been to nearly enough classes for you to be progressing on time through school like you are, but with your parents having a lot of money and being alumni at your university you kind of get away with whatever you want.

“I don’t know why I try. Just get to class before I write you up for loitering,” Taehyung mutters, eyeing the vape in your hand. You groan dramatically as you pick up the slurpee you had gotten this morning, sipping on the sugary liquid as you exit your car. You reach into your back seat, slinging your tote bag that you use as a backpack over your shoulder before shutting the door and locking it. You narrow your eyes on Taehyung.

“So maybe you should stop,” You give him a fake smile before taking another sip and purposefully pushing past him, walking toward the campus.

You plug your wired headphones into your iPhone 6, which is the newest model and one everyone has been raving about. You press play on your favorite band, the Arctic Monkeys, turning the volume all the way up.

You hadn’t even wanted to attend university, but your parents made you. After your mom started a successful law firm and your dad became a top of the field anesthesiologist, they were thrilled when they birthed your perfect older brother, Jimin. Jimin currently also attends your college, which is the best in the state, but he’s planning on becoming a lawyer like your mother. He was the picture perfect son: smart, focused, oblivious to extra-curricular activities with impeccable hygiene.

You? Now, you were the complete opposite. While Jimin had gotten into your university solely based on grades, your parents had to buy your spot in the school. You always hated school, and now you do even more, especially since your parents are making you major in psychology, which seemed the least tedious out of the little options they gave you. Although, you’re not sure how they expect you to give other people therapy when you seem lacking in it yourself.

Truthfully, you wanted to go into cosmetics. You can’t count how many times you sat on your bedroom floor and dyed your hair all kinds of crazy colors.They always suited you, though, and it is your passion. Unfortunately, your parents would never allow you to pursue it, so you act out in other ways, like dressing up like the brand ambassador of Hot Topic and refusing to go to class.

You sigh as you peek over at the cosmetology building as your feet unwillingly drag you to the psych building. You had avoided taking any classes to do with psychology your first two years, only taking and barely passing the ones that freshman and sophomores are required to take, but now you don’t have any choice.

You push open the doors, changing the song to something more melancholic to match your mood. Lana Del Rey’s newest album, Ultraviolence, speaks to you perfectly as your Doc Marten’s squeak against the floor. You stop in front of your class, pushing your hair behind your ears. Here we go, you think.

Jungkook nervously sets his books down on his desk, taking the furthest seat away from everyone. He’s taking a class that seems to be filled with mostly juniors and seniors, so everyone already has their established friend groups. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by trying to include himself, and he’d rather be alone anyway.

It’s his first day of college, and he couldn’t be more nervous. He was excited for the learning aspect, but the social life? Not so much. Not to mention that his eighteenth birthday was literally last week, and he feels small next to all these practically grown adults. The professor begins to introduce himself and review the coursework for History of Psychology. Jungkook is already familiar with this since he had taken it upon himself to review the syllabus, but he pays attention anyway.

As the lecture starts, Jungkook anxiously scribbles in his notes. He doesn’t pay mind to how nobody else seems to be doing the same. He is too caught up in his own little world. His spell is only broken when the professor stops talking, his sentence disturbed by the sound of the door swinging open.

“Oh, you must be ___. It’s nice for you to finally join us,” The professor crones sarcastically. Jungkook’s eyes drift to the door to see what the disturbance was.

There you are, standing by the door, looking as though you had just stepped out of a tumblr moodboard. Your hair is a washed out blue, the color of forgotten dreams, your roots peeking out and tied into space buns that bob around your neck. You have at least five necklaces that dangle around your chest, and two lace chokers that wrap around your neck.

Jungkook could tell that you had money, even if that wasn’t the vibe you were trying to give off. Your tiny black shorts look soft, your band T-shirt that is tied into a knot just below your chest must’ve been from a merch stand at a concert, and the flannel that is much too big for your stature is cashmere. The only thing that doesn’t look of high quality is the ripped fishnets underneath your shorts, but besides that, even your boots are obviously expensive.

Jungkook directs his glare to your face. Your eyelids are so coated in black and glitter he couldn’t tell what color they are, and you look like you are perpetually annoyed. You’re holding a slurpee, and you take out an earbud as you respond to the professor.

“Wish I could say the same,” You crone in response, and Jungkook can barely contain his gasp at the way you had talked back to a professor. He hears the people in front of him whispering about you, so he leans forward.

“...her parents are rich as fuck and are alumni, so she practically fails all her classes and still doesn’t get any punishments. Annoys me, to be honest,” Jungkook hears. Ah, so you’re a rich spoiled kid that gets everything she wants but still feels the need to act out. Jungkook hates people like you, and wishes he could slap you across the face with real problems like unpaid bills and dirt under fingernails.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard quite a few stories about you. Go ahead and take a seat. Try to keep up,” He whispers the last part underneath his breath as he turns back to the chalkboard.

Jungkook swears under his breath once he notices that the only empty seat in the hall is the one next to him. You roll your eyes as you pop the earbud back in, trudging up towards him. He feels compelled to shove his bag into the spot next to him, but that would just be rude. Maybe you’re just given a bad reputation because of your appearance. His mom taught him to never judge a book by its cover.

As you plop down in the seat next to him, Jungkook can hear the sound of your music blasting through your headphones. You smell of strawberry, smoke and bad decisions. Jungkook immediately tenses up as you place your bag in front of you, the contents spilling out. A bracelet, a broken eyeshadow palette and a cigarette threatens to touch and therefore contaminate his perfectly clean school supplies. He discreetly moves them over as you pull out a tattered notebook and turn to him.

“You got a pencil?” You ask. Jungkook, trying to be nice, nods stiffly and hands you a pencil. You take it, your fingertips lingering on his. Jungkook can feel you studying him as he tries to refocus on the professor.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. You a transfer?” You ask, and Jungkook has to keep himself from cringing at your terrible grammar.

“No, I’m a freshman,” He replies, his teeth stuck together. You absentmindedly pull out of a tube of lip gloss, opening it and spreading the dark color on your lips. Jungkook forces himself to look away from how disgustingly alluring they appear.

“So it’s your first day here?” You question, smacking your lips together. You shift, and for a moment your scent becomes even stronger. Jungkook can’t decide if he likes it or not.

“That’s usually what being a freshman implies,” He responds wittingly. Instead of being upset like he had suspected, you simply crack a smile as you rest your head on your hand, your eyes never looking away from him as if you just find him endlessly interesting.

“Why are you in this class, then? Don’t you have to take all the required classes first?” You ask, blinking up at him. Jungkook hates the way his stomach lurches at the action.

“I took all of those in high school already,” He replies, and you whistle like you are impressed. Jungkook tries not to flush. Girls don’t ever usually talk to him, especially not like this.

“So you’re a smartie, then. Cute,” You quip before turning back to the professor, not even trying to feign attention. Jungkook sucks a deep breath in, doing the same. Although, he’s having a difficult time focusing. Your presence both annoys and intrigues him. He doesn’t know why you seem so interested in him. Girls like you like guys with long, shaggy hair with cool indie records, not guys who unironically listen to One Direction with a closet full of vests.

Jungkook is finally able to refocus and even finds himself interested in the lesson. Although he is already very familiar with the Stanford Prison Experiment, he still earnestly scribbles down notes and even finds himself asking a few questions.

The lesson is only a few minutes away from being over when Jungkook smells something strange to the right of him. He scrunches his nose and turns to you, where the smell seems to be coming from. You’re holding something in your hand. To Jungkook, it looks like an oddly shaped highlighter. You suck on it before bringing the sleeve of your flannel to your mouth, breathing out and smothering a few coughs.

Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together as he watches you do it again. The smell seems reminiscent of strawberries. You notice him watching you, so you offer a crooked smile before reaching out your palm that is holding the weird looking highlighter.

“Want some?” You question. Jungkook raises a brow, staring at the small contraption. He notices that it has some gems encrusted on the front that must be your initials. He thins his lips.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing with that highlighter and I don’t wanna know,” He replies. You stare at him for a few seconds before bursting into giggles. You hold your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your laughs as Jungkook looks on, entirely unamused. You’re practically crying as your hand retracts, placing the thing back into your black tote bag that is riddled with holes.

“... class is dismissed,” The professor says, and everyone starts packing up. You’re still trying to control your laughter as you shove all your things back into your bag. Jungkook feels eager to leave. His first ever college class was certainly a strange one, primarily thanks to you. Jungkook gathers all of his things and is about to leave before he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks down at your hand, your fingernails painted a chipped black.

“Hey, what’s your name?” You ask. Jungkook gulps, his hands fiddling with his sweater.

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook,” He answers through gritted teeth. You smile, in a way that doesn’t come easy but is nice to look at anyway.

“I’m ___. I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Jeon Jungkook,” You give his arm a small pat on the shoulder, spinning around and walking out of the room, leaving him with confused thoughts, knitted brows and the ever so slight remnant of glitter on his skin.

You take a bite of your Rice Krispie Treat, the packaging crinkling underneath your fingers as you slide onto the picnic table. Lunch time is always your favorite time of day, a time where you don’t feel the pressure of school constantly pressing down on your shoulders. Your friends are already sitting there, waiting for you.

Ni-ki sits with his legs crossed, a leather jacket hiding his ripped red Nirvana T-shirt. He has a cigarette resting between his lips, taking turns between inhaling the smoke and taking a bite of the sandwich he got from the dining hall. Eunchae rests next to him, her hair a dark cherry red loosely tied into a braid, sporting a tee that is long in the back and short in the front with a unicorn that has x’s through its eyes and a tight leather skirt. Eunchae holds out her hand expectantly, so Ni-ki passes her the cigarette and she takes a puff.

“Already starting with the flirting?” You tease your friends who have liked each other since forever but have refused to get together. Ni-ki rolls his eyes at you.

“Fuck off, ___. I heard you already got in trouble with your professor,” He responds, and you can’t say you’re surprised. With a relatively small school, word gets around often.

“Yeah, you’re starting it off with a bang,” Your best friend, Giselle, quips from next to you. You turn to observe your friend. Her baby pink hair is flipped over into a side part, her neck decorated with various necklaces, wearing a black and white striped dress, a black cardigan, and ripped tights. Your friends aren’t like you in terms of how you all got this way. They all started with being good students who got into your university the right way, but were exposed to too much all at once and took up some bad habits that eventually became ritual.

“I just love being unapologetically me,” You flourish your hands around, giggling as you lean down to dig in your tote bags. You can feel Giselle’s eyes narrow onto you as you pull out a cigarette.

“You’re in an awfully good mood today,” She notices, and it’s true. You ponder her statement as you push the cigarette between your lips. You’re usually very closed off, only allowing your true witty personality to shine when you’re with a select few people, and even then you’re especially pessimistic. You know why you’re in such a good mood today, though.

It’s that little freshman you talked to during History of Psych today. He was cute, really cute, and you like the way his gaze seemed to linger and how easily he flushed at every flirty comment you made. He’s the exact opposite kind of guy you usually associate yourself with: smart, innocent, focused. You even smile now thinking about him. Something about him interests you, but you silently vow to stay away. He seems to have a bright future ahead of himself, and you don’t want to ruin that for him with your bad influence.

“Did Namjoon talk to you today or something?” Eunchae asks as you flick open your lighter that’s decorated with little peace signs, cupping your hands around your cigarette. You scrunch your face up in obvious disgust as the end lights. You take a puff, staring at your friend with annoyance.

“Hell no. Him and his skinny jeans can go to hell,” You mutter, holding the cigarette between your middle and index fingers. Your friends laugh, and you even allow yourself a smirk. You used to be obsessed with your asshole, cheating ex Namjoon until about last week when you decided you didn’t want to boost his ego by still wanting him so badly. No matter how tempting him and his annoyingly soft hair may be.

You and your friends continue to eat and talk about your days. It seems that theirs have gone okay, which you’re happy to hear until you feel someone push down on your head, causing you to burn yourself with your cigarette. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

“What the fuck, Jimin?” You yell, standing up and turning to face your brother. He stands with a flannel and cargo pants, his hair neatly gelled back and an iced coffee resting in his hand. His stupid little “trendy” mustache tattoo sits on his finger, which, in your opinion, is no match to the ones you’ve given yourself with Eunchae’s tattoo gun.

“I’ve heard that the principal is already pissed off with you, brat. He’s definitely gonna tell our parents. Mom and dad are going to be pissed,” He retorts, his other annoying preppy little friends Hoseok and Jin laughing in response. You roll your eyes. He pulls this shit with you all the time.

“More than they usually are?” You cross your hands, and you can tell Jimin is eyeing the cigarette in between your fingers. He hates when you smoke, but you’re sure it’s less because he cares for your health and more so to protect his delicate reputation.

“Oh, yeah. Good luck with that, you little shit,” He rips the cigarette from in between your fingers and throws it on the ground, stomping on it with his checkered Vans. You gasp out loud.

“Hey, that was my last one!” You yell as Jimin walks away, throwing you the middle finger. Your fists ball up at your sides. Usually, most people don’t mess with you and your friends, but of course the exception to that is your asshole brother.

“Here, ___, don’t listen to him,” Giselle helps you down as she hands you a cigarette, and you take it before groaning and resting your head in your hands.

“He might be right, though. If the principal does call my parents, I’m fucked. I can’t do math club again like last time I got in trouble,” You groan and roll your eyes, reminiscing on sophomore year. Giselle rubs your back.

“Then don’t go home tonight. Let’s go to the football game. I’m sure some hot, dumb jock will cheer you up,” She encourages, and you look up at her with a smile you can’t contain.

Jungkook nervously weaves through the crowd of people as he navigates himself to the football field. He’s too anxious to go back to his dorm right now, he doesn’t really like his roommate, who’s a little too nerdy even for him, and the library is closed for maintenance, so he resolved to go to the football game. Maybe he could find some friends or something.

Chatter floats through the air as he climbs up the bleachers, searching for people like him. Decent people, who care about school and like video games. Of course, his heart skips a beat when he spots you, sitting next to three people who are dressed just like you. You’re holding a soda and a hot dog, chatting with your friends and half-watching the game unfolding in front of you. You must’ve buttoned up your flannel in the cold breeze that comes with nighttime, but it slips off of your shoulder, revealing your smooth skin that shimmers under the field lights. Jungkook gulps.

You must’ve noticed him staring at you, because you look up, meeting his stare. You immediately sit up and smile, gesturing to him to come over. Shit, he thinks, this is the last thing he wanted to happen. Sitting with you and your friends could ruin his chances of talking to other people, but it’s kind of too late. All of your friends are looking at him too, so he really has no choice but to trudge up the stairs and take the spot next to you on the bleachers.

“Jungkook, these are my friends, Ni-ki, Giselle and Eunchae,” You point to each respective person, “Guys, this is Jungkook, a freshie I met in History. He’s cool.”

Jungkook kind of feels giddy at the fact that you, someone who is the definition of cool, said that about him. Jungkook waves to which your friends raise a brow, so he awkwardly lowers what must’ve been his over eager hand.

“What brings you here?” You ask, sipping on your soda and watching him intently. Jungkook awkwardly fiddles with his fingers.

“I guess I was just hoping to meet someone new, y’know, get involved,” He explains, immediately feeling stupid by his choice of words. You smile like you find it endearing.

“Well, if you want some advice, stay away from the preppy kids, aka my brother and his bitches,” You laugh at your own joke. Jungkook feels surprised that you’re related to someone who is deemed as preppy. Even though those kids in class earlier said that you are rich, it just seems unlikely.

The game progresses, and you continue to chat his ear off with meaningless small talk like where Jungkook is from and how old he is, to which you responded with a gasp when he said he was eighteen, pointing out your guys’ three year age difference. Jungkook didn’t know why you were so surprised considering he is a freshman and you are a junior, but whatever.

Jungkook grows rather antsy to leave. He feels uncomfortable being associated with you, and the way you’re eating your hotdog is too erotic for a football game. The way the ketchup resides on your lip, how you suck on your fingers to get the remnants off and the way your lips stretch around the hot dog is causing a problem in his pants that is rather embarrassing. He feels relieved once the game ends and he is able to disappear into the crowd without you noticing.

He awkwardly adjusts himself before braving the night, pulling his sweater tighter around his body. He doesn’t like these thoughts he’s having. He’s never really thought about girls this way before. He doesn’t know what it is about you; he’s already decided he doesn’t like you.

Jungkook ducks under the bleachers, feeling way too flustered to continue the walk to his dorm. He tries to think about disgusting thoughts like spiders and B minuses, but every time he closes his eyes all he can see is you and your infectious smile.

“Fuck,” He swears under his breath, fisting his sweater as he tries to steady his breathing. He hears what sounds like kissing to his right, and out of pure curiosity he peeks an eye open to look.

You’re standing with your back against the bleachers, and a football player has one hand by your head and the other up your shirt. He is kissing you passionately, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook feels as if he might puke. He immediately turns around to leave, but it’s too late.

“Jungkook!” He hears you say. He slowly turns around as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. You smirk slyly at the football player, pushing him off you playfully.

“I’ll text you,” You whisper before bouncing up to Jungkook, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out from underneath the bleachers, “C’mon, lets go to Seven Eleven.”

Jungkook isn’t sure why you picked him to take you to a gas station at 9 o’clock at night, but he doesn’t question it. According to you, it isn’t that long of a walk and you’re bored. Honestly, Jungkook is kind of glad because he really didn’t want to head back to his dorm. Plus, his previous “problem” was now just a slight tent in his pants, one that you probably wouldn’t notice.

You two walk in silence, the sound of crickets filling the air as you try to balance on the curb. Jungkook feels incredibly awkward as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“So, what kind of music are you into?” You suddenly ask, catching him off guard. Jungkook clears his throat. For some reason, he doesn’t want to confess that his favorite band is One Direction and that Red by Taylor Swift is on loop in his bedroom. He assumes you listen to cool indie-rock bands and would laugh in his face if he told you his rather basic taste.

“I don’t really listen to music,” He resolves to tell you. Your face is overcome with a shocked expression, as if you can’t believe what you just heard.

“Seriously? I can’t believe that. I listen to music every second of every day.”

“Like what?” Jungkook inquires, not that he really cares all that much, but he likes the way your face lights up when he asks, like you’ve been waiting for someone to ask you this.

“Oh, I dunno, a little bit of everything. Arctic Monkeys, Radiohead, The Neighbourhood, Lorde, Lana Del Rey-”

“Lana Del Rey? That singer with the terrible performance on SNL two years ago?” Jungkook retorts.

“Uh, excuse me, that was iconic. Also, you didn’t let me finish. One Direction, Taylor Swift,” You tease him, flashing two peace signs, imitating the song “22”. Jungkook’s face immediately flushes.

“How did you know?” He asks, and you giggle.

“Your FaceBook is rather telling,” You tease, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a little flattered you went and took the time to look at his FaceBook. He wishes it was cooler, but he wasn’t concerned with impressing people until now.

You two reach Seven Eleven, the door bell ringing as you guys step inside. It’s small, with only a few aisles and a slurpee machine. You beeline to the machine, humming as you do so. Jungkook can’t help but notice how many people admire you. You quite literally are like if tumblr was a walking and breathing person, and you are envied. Now, he doesn’t feel as embarrassed to be associated with you. In fact, he feels a bit proud.

You reach for a cup and start to fill it up, one half being raspberry, and the other cherry. You fill it to the brim before popping the lid on, some of the juice spilling out as you shove two straws into the sugary liquid. You meet his confused stare.

“Some for me, some for you,” You give him a cheeky smile before skipping up to the register. An overly tired college student suddenly becomes more perky once he notices you. You set the cup on the counter as he starts punching numbers in. You mindlessly fiddle with a new chocolate bar that’s sitting on the counter.

“It feels like they have a new flavor every week. Sometimes you have to stick with the classics, you know? They always taste best,” With this, your eyes purposefully train on his lips. The kid’s lips play with a smirk, his fingers fumbling across the register. You drop the candy bar, and it tumbles over the counter.

“Oops, silly me,” You say playfully, your finger lingering on your lip. The kid bites his own before bending down to pick up the candy bar. You skillfully take a pack of cigarettes that are for sale and shove them into your pockets. Seeing this action causes Jungkook to freeze. The kid comes up not suspecting a thing as you hand him a few bucks, paying for your drink. You give him a wink before spinning on your heel and walking out of the store.

Jungkook’s breaths feel heavy as you pluck out a cigarette, lighting it with a lighter you pull out of your pocket. His eyes keep darting around as if a police officer will jump out of nowhere and arrest you both.

“You… you stole that!” You blow some smoke out, the end of the cigarette glowing in the dark night.

“No, I’m just borrowing it. Want some?” You ask, but he hurriedly shakes his head, his heart thumping. He really doesn’t like this. You casually take a sip of the slurpee.

“I don’t get it. Why steal if you’re rich?” He questions. You laugh, but it’s more to yourself, and almost kind of disappointed.

“I wasted all my money I brought with me today on a bet that Ni-ki wouldn’t ask one of the cheerleaders out. Turns out he’s more fearless than I thought. And charming. He got her number,” You mutter to yourself, handing Jungkook the slurpee. He mindlessly sips on it, the sugar coating his tongue, and the ever so faint taste of ash.

“You confuse me, ___,” He says, forcing himself to swallow the liquid. You stop in the street, turning to face him. Your stare, although barely visible in the dark night, makes his legs want to buckle. You cock your head.

“And you intrigue me, Jeon Jungkook,” You respond. He cracks a smile that you don’t notice as you look around. Jungkook takes the moment to notice where you two are, because he hadn’t been paying attention to where you were walking. Now he realizes he’s in a nice street, a cul de sac with big leafy maple trees and freshly cut grass. You nod to the side.

“This is my place,” Jungkook looks over to the giant house next to you two, “perks of being a junior is being able to commute. Even if it is a five minute walk.” You chuckle.

Jungkook wants to hit you for how nice your house is. The pristine siding, the big garage with the newest car models, the large windows and tamed bushes. He had to work all through high school to even begin to afford college, and here you are with your fancy house, and your ability to skip classes that he wouldn’t ever dare because he knows every penny comes from either his or his parents pockets. All that, and you still have the audacity to steal from a gas station.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you around,” You walk down your driveway, your boots sliding against the dewy ground before spinning back around and telling him, “Oh, and Jungkook? I’m glad that little situation in your pants was resolved. That would’ve been really awkward.”

With that, you walk off into your house. Jungkook stands there, alone, with a slurpee he didn’t want and embarrassment weighing down on him so much that he might collapse in the middle of your nice little street.

“Fuck off,” You tell your mom, trying to get past her to the stairs, but she blocks you. Her face is red from anger.

“Do not use that language with me, young lady. Seriously, the first day of school and I already hear that you’re smoking in your car and you’re late to class? Where even is your car, ___?” She yells. You groan in response, already done with this conversation.

“I left it at school.”

“Again? This is the kind of irresponsibility that I’m talking about. You reek of smoke, ___. I’m sick of this shit!”

“So stop forcing your beliefs on me and let me do what I wanna do! Maybe then, I’ll stop blocking out my problems with other shit!” You scream back, and she seems surprised. You rarely ever raise your voice, even with your parents.

“I am not letting you waste your life by becoming some kind of hairstylist. And I finally did it. I got you a tutor,” She says, and your face drops. Is she serious? A tutor?

“Are you fucking serious?” You scream, and a smug look melts onto her features.

“Yup, because I’m honestly sick of it. And you can deal with the embarrassment of being tutored by a freshman,” You freeze in place. What did she just say?

“Huh?”

“Yeah, that’s right, a freshman. He was extremely eager when we posted the advertisement, and said he needed the money. So, from now on, every Friday night when you want to go out to your little parties, you’ll have your tutoring sessions. And you’re cut off for further notice.”

Although the aspect about you being financially cut off causes your jaw to drop, you can’t help but feel a little suspicious and distantly giddy after your mother mentions that your mother hired a male freshman to be your tutor- especially since you are so interested in one lately.

“What’s his name?” You question.

“Jeon Jungkook,” Your mom answers, crossing her arms and smiling smugly. You’re smiling, too, but for a completely different reason.

Jungkook stares straight ahead on the email on his computer, his mouth gaping. When he signed up for the tutoring program, he didn’t know that his only client would frustrate yet intrigue him as much as you did. And now, he’d be spending every Friday with you at your house, helping you study for classes he’d taken in high school.

“You’re fucked, man. If you got a boner just from watching her eat a fucking hot dog, then you’re screwed,” Yoongi remarks, fiddling with his controller, his eyes trained on his PC. Jungkook sighs heavily, fed up with his roommate who hasn’t shut up about the information he accidentally spilled.

“Can you shut up for a minute?” He mutters back, leaning back in his desk chair and rubbing his temples. As much as he hates it, Yoongi may be right.

He would be helping you with Algebra, English 103 and General Psychology, all classes you failed last year and had to retake. Easy for him to teach you, but he’s not sure how much you’ll listen to him. He has a feeling you’ll just tease him the entire time.

An idea pops into his head. Maybe if he offers you something, you’ll listen. He briefly considers using cigarettes as leverage, but he doesn’t want to feed into your addiction and he doesn’t even think he’s old enough to buy them.

He looks behind him to make sure that Yoongi isn’t watching before going on Instagram and looking up your name. He tells himself it’s to find some other interests to hold over your head, but really it’s because he’s interested in your personal life. Who you really are.

He presses on your profile to be transported to an underground rock concert. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. Pictures of polaroids of you at music festivals, ones with hazy gray filters of you posing with peace signs covering your face, photos taken at the back of whatever newest hair color you’ve chosen. He smiles as he scroll through them, carefully analyzing each picture, feeling as though he’s been invited into your life.

As he scrolls further, the filters start disappearing and the colors become brighter. As you become younger, he sees you smile more, and your hair it’s natural color. In the oldest picture on your feed, you’re sitting near a vanity, doing your friend’s hair and flashing a big smile at the camera. You look endlessly happy, and even very beautiful.

Jungkook finds himself frowning. He wonders what must’ve happened to you, with the way you are now. The constant clouded look in your eyes haunts him, and he can’t help but yearn to make you feel better.

“Damn, is that her? She is really hot,” Yoongi acknowledges, suddenly at Jungkook’s side. Jungkook switches tabs so quickly you would’ve thought he was watching porn.

“Fuck off, dude,” Jungkook mutters, powering off his computer. Yoongi shrugs and stalks off, shoving chips into his mouth. Jungkook stands up and flops onto his bed. As much as he dreads this coming Friday, he finds himself excited as well.

“You’re actually stupid as shit, ___, to be tutored by a freshman,” Ni-ki remarks, shifting in the chair across from you. You cross your arms and furrow your eyebrows.

“And you’re acting like fucking Einstein,” You quip back, putting down the book you were pretending to read. You and your friends are chilling in the library, attempting to study, but it’s unsuccessful.

Today is Friday, meaning it’s your first tutoring session with Jungkook. This entire week you’ve attempted to figure out what you two will be doing, but he has refused to answer you. It’s not like you’ll be focused much, anyway.

You honestly feel kind of excited. You can’t stop thinking about him, even after you invited that jock you were kissing under the bleachers to your house. As he slowly lifted off your shirt, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and pretend his rough hands were smooth like you imagine Jungkook’s would be.

“Speaking of which,” Eunchae says, looking at the door. You peek over to spot Jungkook walking in, his glasses perched on his nose, his hair messy after a long day at school. You can’t help as your lips twitch into a smile. He’s too cute.

“Oh, don’t tell me you had a crush on that boy!” Giselle says as she slaps your side. You swat her hand away.

“Poor kid. He’s so innocent. ___, do you have a corruption kink?” Eunchae laughs, and you shake your head profusely.

“No, no! He’s just… interesting. That’s it,” You reply, flashing your friends a middle finger as you get up, “I’ll be right back.”

You follow Jungkook as he stalks towards the bookshelves, giggling to yourself as his finger brushes against the books. He clicks his tongue, stopping at a book and plucking it out. You watch him study the cover for a few seconds before bouncing up to him and slapping his shoulder.

“You ready to tutor your elder today?” You ask cheerfully through his scream. He holds a hand to his chest, breathing heavily.

“You scared me.”

“I noticed. What book is that?” You pluck it from his hands and he replies with an annoyed “Hey!” along with a failed attempt to grab the book back.

“‘Informed Consent: The Validity of Given Permission in the Context of Psychology Experiments.’ Wow, you’re really into that shit?”

“Some of us don’t fill our time drinking slurpees and stealing cigarettes,” He remarks, angrily snatching the book back. You raise your brows in amusement.

“Wow, someone is in a nasty mood today.”

“Can we just go to your house so we can start the session, please?” He asks, apparently very aggravated. You send him an unfazed smile before skipping back to your table and grabbing your bag. Your friends give you knowing looks that you ignore as you meet Jungkook at the counter. He checks out his book and makes sure to throw you an annoyed look before leading the way out of the library.

You chat Jungkook’s ear off as you lead him to your car, unlocking the door with your peace sign key lanyard and hopping inside. Jungkook’s face scrunches up as he shoves the fast food wrappers and used up lipglosses off the passenger seat.

“It’s a nasty mess in here,” He retorts as you start up the car and back out of your spot, “And did you even check your blind spot?”

“Are we taking your car? No, so until you get one you can sit back and enjoy the ride,” You reply as you pull away from campus and start towards your house. Jungkook looks uncomfortable as he holds onto the handles, obviously not okay with how fast you drive.

You reach your house quickly, park in your garage and get out, Jungkook close behind. He seems in awe as you lead in through your large house and into your room.

You’re proud of your room, in fact, you’re proud of your whole aesthetic. You don’t have 1,000 followers on tumblr for nothing. Your room is quite large, with your bed in the corner, your desk in the other and a large beanbag by your closet.

Fairy lights are hung all around your room, along with plenty of posters displaying your favorite singers and artists. Your vinyl collection is messily pushed into a bookshelf next to your window, and the wall beside your bed is covered in several polaroids of your favorite memories. Your plush carpet is decorated with dirty clothes, and you lazily push them aside and flop on your unmade bed.

Jungkook nervously sits beside you, as if he’s never been in a girls room before, which you certainly don’t doubt. He holds his backpack close to him as he sits on the edge of your bed, furthest away from you. He pulls out some books, pencils and notebooks and places them in the space between you two.

“We’re going to work on General Psychology today. This is just a little test so I can judge your knowledge,” He pushes a packet your way, looking at you expectantly. You shoot him a look as you open up a lollipop and stick it into your mouth. He didn’t really expect you to study, did he? Especially when someone as cute as him is sitting across from you.

“I don’t really feel like studying. Let’s watch a movie instead. What are you into?” You question, and Jungkook’s mouth twitches in annoyance. He picks up the packet and places it on your lap.

“We’re studying. Do it. Now,” He demands, and you have to admit he sounds sexy when he’s mad. You challenge him with a smirk.

“Are you going to make me?” You ask lowly, leaning back on your forearms. Jungkook shifts, biting his lip and looking down.

“I knew this was going to happen. Listen, ___, I get you don’t want to do this, but I really need the money. Can we please just study? I’ll even bribe you. Cigarettes, slurpees, whatever. What will get you to focus?” He rambles, and an evil smirk forms on your face. You allow him to squirm in silence for a few seconds before answering.

“Hm, okay, I know what I want,” He perks up, offering you a smile like he didn’t think that would work.

“What is it?”

“Every session, I want to introduce you to a piece of my world,” You explain, and his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sounding suspicious. Before he can process it, you quickly move so you’re on top of him, your legs on either side of his knees, your hand resting on his shoulder. His eyes grow wide, flicking between your gaze and your lips.

“Have you ever been kissed before?” You ask, and he hurriedly shakes his head. You move closer so you’re straddling him, and his breathing quickens.

“___?” He asks, and you smile, biting your own lip.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask. Jungkook’s eyes linger on you before nodding eagerly.

You lean down and press your lips to his. It’s quick and innocent, and since it’s his first time, you pull away quickly. He’s breathing so heavily you think he might break out into tears or something, but he surprises you by kissing you again.

You take the lead, moving your mouth in sync with his. Your hand naturally travels up to his hair, intertwining your fingers with the soft strands. You tug his head back to deepen the kiss, and he groans softly into your mouth.

You force your tongue into his mouth, exploring it and enjoying the sounds he makes in response. You can feel him grow hard against your leg, and you take the opportunity by grinding down on him. He moans in response.

“___,• He whispers as you leave his mouth to suck on his bottom lip. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t experienced in fields like this, but usually the guys you were with were experienced as well. You kind of like how innocent Jungkook is, how his body seems to react to your every movement.

You start moving against him harder, enjoying his groans and breathless whispers of your name. Jungkook thrusts his hips up, and you moan quietly, the sensation shooting pleasure through your body. You can feel heat pooling in your underwear.

You can feel him growing harder against you, and you can’t believe the sheer length of him. Apparently the saying is true, the losers are always packing. You try not to let a giggle escape at your own thought. Jungkook’s hands grip your hips, moving you harder against him. Judging by the way his cock is straining against his jeans and how his whines are getting higher, he must be close.

You can even begin feeling some pleasure yourself, but before it can get too far, you get off of him. He whines in protest, and you can only smirk in return.

“Can’t let your first orgasm by another girl be in your pants. Trust me, I’m saving you the embarrassment,” You tell him, but he doesn’t look appreciative. Instead, you bite your lip at the way his eyes are hooded and the intense gaze he’s giving you. You try not to stare at the obvious tent in his pants and you pick up the packet he had given you.

“You wanted me to focus, didn’t you? Well, here I am. Focusing,” You pick up a pencil and try to

focus on the work ahead of you. Jungkook shifts next to you, trying to adjust himself in his pants.

“You’re an asshole,” He mutters under his breath, and you give him a flirty look over your shoulder. You tap him on the nose with your pencil.

“Correct. Now, c’mon, do your job, Mr. Jeon.”

“Three guys on me, on me!” Yoongi yells through his headset, and Jungkook has to physically fight back the urge to groan in annoyance. It’s Sunday, Yoongi has not left the dorm the entire weekend, and Jungkook has been dying to relieve himself after you gave him blue balls on Friday.

He can’t even think about what happened without getting hard. Just thinking about the way you kissed him, how assertive you were, how good you felt moving against him like that…

Shit, he could already feel himself becoming turned on again. Screw this. He resolves to grab his bathroom bag and head to take a shower. Maybe he could take care of himself in there if it is empty, and if someone else was there a cold shower would just have to do the job.

He exits the dorm with his bag slung around his shoulder. He tries to not think about you, but he can’t. In fact, you’re all he can think about these days. He knows you’re bad news, but apparently his dick doesn’t, and there’s not much he can do about that.

“Hi, Jungkook!” The last voice he wants to hear pops up in front of him. He slowly looks up to find you standing in front of him, wearing the most casual clothes he had ever seen you in: a black crewneck decorated with stars, grey sweatpants and your hair that is now a bright pink pulled into a ponytail. Jungkook is quick to pull his bag in front of him so it’s covering his growing erection.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks. He notices that you’re holding a cup of coffee that you bring to your lips, taking a sip.

“I have a killer hangover and my house is out of coffee so I decided to stop by campus. I was just on my way out, but what a coincidence that I ran into you!” You point to the exit he knows is behind him. Jungkook tries to offer you a smile, but it comes off as ingenuine.

“I like the, um…” He waves to his hair, and your face brightens up as you play with the edges of your ponytail.

“Oh, thanks! Late night drunk decision, but I think it looks pretty cute.”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It’s the first time seeing you since Friday, and he’s hardly holding it together. He had to sit the rest of the session in pain while you finished the test he gave you- and not to mention you did horribly on it, considering that you’re a junior and your major is literally psychology.

“Oh, yeah, I think our next session may have to be in the library. My brother kinda a little bit heard us and I need to get him off our trail.”

Jungkook’s face heats in embarrassment. He was rather… loud, but he couldn’t help it. That was his first… everything. And you made him feel so good, even if you left him teetering on the edge, wanting desperately to fall off with you.

“Sure. Library. Got it,” He mumbles under his breath, walking past you towards the common bathroom. He wouldn’t normally be so impolite, but it’s you, and you either can’t seem to take social hints or don’t care. He assumes it’s the latter.

And, to his dismay, the bathroom has five other guys in it, so he punishes himself and his lustful thoughts with an achingly cold shower.

You lean against the dirty wall, the cash in your pocket feeling heavy in your zip-up hoodie. The September air causes you to pull your hoodie closer. Where the hell is Heeseung?

It’s Wednesday night, so your mom will beat your ass if you’re out too late tonight. You’re currently tucked in an alleyway, waiting for Heeseung, who supplies you with stuff you can’t get at the gas station.

You feel kind of nervous tonight for some reason. Like someone is watching you. You even flinch when you spot Heeseung enter the alleyway, his hood over his head.

“Where were you? You’re late,” You reprimand, even though you’re kind of relieved that he’s here. It’s dark, but you can see his eyes roll.

“The better question is when am I ever on time,” He mutters, slinging his backpack off his shoulder. He opens it up and shuffles through it a few seconds before pulling out a large plastic baggie. Inside are smaller baggies, with pills and white powder. Your lips thin at the sight. No one knows you do anything stronger than weed, not even your friends, so you always feel somewhat shameful when you have your biweekly meet ups with Heeseung.

You met Heeseung in your sophomore year. He isn’t a student, simply just a guy who lives in the campus town and makes a living off of selling drugs to college students. Even if that description seems off putting, he’s a surprisingly good guy. Kinda.

You reach for the bag, but he flinches back, his eyebrows raising.

“Nuh-uh, cash first,” He holds his hand out and you roll your eyes. You dig into your pocket and slap the wads of cash into his hand. In return he hands you the baggie, which you stuff into your tote bag.

“How’re you doing, ___?” He asks, counting the cash. You sigh, taking out your vape and taking a hit of it. The flavor of wildberry fills your mouth.

“I’m okay. My parents are on my ass lately about school and now I have a tutor.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay. He’s cute,” You smile, remembering what happened at your last tutoring session and taking another hit.

“Oh, you’re evil. I knew you were into the nerdy type,” He retorts, shoving the cash into his pocket and patting you on the back, “take care of yourself, ___.”

You watch as he stalks out of the alleyway. You sigh, staying there for a bit more before deciding you’re too creeped out. You kick off of the wall and exit the alleyway into the street of the campus town.

To your relief, the streets are busy. They’re filled with families heading to dinner or couples shopping together. You don’t miss the way that parents pull their kids tighter to themselves after spotting your ripped fishnets under your mini shorts, but you honestly don’t care. You just keep wandering, wanting to avoid your house. It’s been feeling suffocating lately, especially with Jimin making fun of your tutoring situation constantly.

You stare at your feet, the drugs in your bag feeling heavier than usual. You feel ashamed of yourself. It started with just alcohol to help your feelings, which turned into vapes, and then other shit that just kept spiraling.

You are so deep in your thoughts that you suddenly run into someone, and you fall to the ground, the content of your tote bag tumbling out. Fuck, you think, rubbing your head and looking up. Of fucking course, just your luck. It’s Jungkook, accompanied by some kid you’ve never seen before in an anime T-shirt.

You try to shove the baggie back into your tote bag, but it’s too late. His big eyes lingers where the bag was as you force yourself to get up.

“__-“ He starts, but you push past him, not allowing him to continue.

You barely control the tears threatening to fall as you push your way through the crowd, not even bothering to look where you’re going. You feel like puking. You don’t know why you care so much that Jungkook saw that, but you do. You press a hand against your mouth.

You find yourself in another alleyway, and you sink to the ground, not even bothering to think about the disgusting shit you’re sitting in. Tears are now spilling down your cheeks, a rare occurrence but something you can’t control. You feel disappointed that he saw, but even more disappointed in yourself. For being so dependent on material addictions.

“Hey, babe, you doing okay?” A voice asks. You look up through the tears. A man around your age stands in front of you. His shirt has several cigarette holes, and his pants are sagging low around his waist.

“Fuck off,” You tell him, not wanting to deal with someone trying to flirt with you. He chuckles as if you said something funny.

“The name is Tarzzan. Yours?” He asks. You rise to stand, wiping your tears with your sleeve. You really don’t want to deal with this right now.

“Can you please leave me alone?” You ask, and instead of taking the hint he just takes another step towards you. Shit. He offers you a gross smile. His hand comes to rest on your hip, and you feel like puking again.

“I can help to cheer you up,” He whispers in your ear. You try to shove him off, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he grabs your hand and pins it against the wall. Panic rises in you as his lips near yours.

“Hey, asshole! Get off of her!” You hear someone yell. You look over your shoulder to find Jungkook running towards you two. You cringe, knowing he probably isn’t all that strong, and the voice crack he had wasn’t helping his case.

“What-“ The stranger begins, but Jungkook catches him by shoving his shoulder and throwing a surprisingly hard punch to his jaw. The guy groans and holds his jaw, and you know you have mere seconds before he collects himself and rocks Jungkook’s shit, so you quickly reach into your bag and pull out a can of pepper spray.

You rip the cap off and spay it in the stranger’s face, and he screams in agony. Jungkook grabs your arm, and together you two sprint out of the alley and onto the street.

“Good punch!” You compliment, your hands still shaking from fear. You two weave through the crowd towards your University.

“Thanks. I honestly didn’t know I had that in me.”

You two don’t stop running until you reach your university’s campus. Fear still pulses through your blood as Jungkook lightly touches your shoulders, his eyes examining you.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? That asshole,” He swears, causing you to realize he really doesn’t do that all that often.

“No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up. I’m kinda scared to go home,” You admit, hoping he’d offer his dorm to you for the night.

“Er, you can come to my dorm. My roommate is probably asleep already,” He offers, and you nod eagerly. Your arms fall at your side as you follow him towards the dorms.

“Why were you in town tonight?” You ask, hoping he wouldn’t question what he saw in your bag earlier.

“My annoying ass roommate, aka my only friend, dragged me out there to go shopping with him for comic books. He ditched me after we ran into you,” He rolls his eyes. You turn to him. So, he probably followed you after you ran away. You try not to smile at the thought of him worrying about you.

“Your only friend?” You question, and he laughs breathily.

“Fine, one of my only friends.”

Jungkook leads you upstairs as you send a half-assed text to your mom about staying at a friend’s house to study. You know she won’t believe you, but you really don’t give a shit. You don’t want to be alone right now.

You forgot how small dorms are. From the entrance, you can spot their two beds, their kitchenette, window, and a communal desk. Jungkook was right, his roommate is already fast asleep in his bed. You smile as you observe the decorations above Jungkook’s bed. Small things like photos with high school friends and birthday cards. You feel like you’re looking into his life as you spot a ticket to an amusement park tacked up against his wall. You smile lightly as Jungkook begins to speak from behind you.

“I don’t have much, but here,” You turn around to see that he’s offering you a T-shirt and pants. You smirk and take them, immediately taking your shirt off. His face flushes and he spins around. You chuckle as you pull the much too big clothes over your head.

You sit at the edge of the bed as Jungkook fusses with his hair in the mirror. You can’t help but stare at your bag. Before you even know what you’re doing, you bend down and take out the baggie. You stand up and wander to the window.

“___, what’re you-“ Before he can finish, you open the window and drop the stupid baggie out of the window, letting it fall into the overgrown shrubbery below. A huge relief washes over you as you close it, a smile plastered onto your face. You don’t even notice how Jungkook is watching you with admiration.

“I’m proud of you, ___,” He says, and the sentiment is so sweet your heart might burst. It’s something you’ve never heard before.

“Thanks. Although that was a lot of money,” You tell him in fake sadness. He laughs as you settle into his bed. He grabs himself a blanket and a pillow, fashioning himself a bed on the ground.

“Too scared to sleep with me?” You ask. Jungkook scoffs.

“No, I just…” He trails off in thought, and his face grows red so he turns away from you, covering his head with his blanket, “need my space.”

“Mm, sure. G’night, and thanks for everything tonight.”

“Of course, ___,” He grumbles as if it annoys him to say it, but you can’t help but smile as you pull your blanket up to your chin, falling asleep quickly with his soft scent of linen to comfort you.

You don’t know what time it is when you wake up, but you know damn well it’s too early judging by the way the sun is barely peeking beyond the horizon utside. You groan as you turn to see what woke you up. Jungkook stands next to the bed, obviously changing into his clothes for the day.

He’s pulling a shirt over his head, and you can’t help but admire how his back muscles move, illuminated by the early morning light.

“I enjoyed the show, but it’s still way too early to be appreciative,” You comment, and he immediately spins around.

“Oh, you’re up.”

“Yeah, way too early. What time is it?” You ask, grabbing your phone.

“6:30. I usually grab breakfast and go for a walk before my first class,” He explains, running his hands through his hair, and you can’t help but feel jealous.

“Oh, fuck that. I’m not even up until my first class starts,” You retort. Jungkook spins around.

“How does that-“

“What am I going to wear today?” You wonder out loud, pushing yourself off of the bed.

“I don’t really have any of… your kinda stuff,” Jungkook says, pulling a couple of storage bins out from under his bed that must be his closet. You sit down next to him, looking through the bins.

“Well, I’m lucky I’m a pro. Hm, this’ll do,” You pull out a blue and white flannel and a T-shirt. Learning his lesson from last time, he turns around just in time as you begin to change. The clothes are oversized, but that’s not a problem for you.

You throw the flannel over the T-shirt, rolling up the sleeves and tucking the T-shirt into your bra. You pull on your shorts that you wore last night and a choker you had in your pocket. You pull your freshly dyed hair into pigtails.

“You really are talented,” Jungkook says, and you offer him a smile.

“Thanks,” You reply, grabbing your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, “Ready?”

“For what?” He asks, his eyebrows knitted together.

“You said you always take a walk in the morning. So let’s get to walking!” You bound out the door, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake.

Jungkook’s leg bounces under his desk, his pencil tapping on his notebook. His class is finally almost over, and after this is his next session with you. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. He’s starting to really enjoy his time with you.

He can’t help but remember your face when you dropped your baggie full of drugs in front of him. You looked so disappointed in yourself. He frowns as he remembers.

The professor dismisses the class, and he practically runs out of the hall, rushing to the library. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised you’re not there, but he still feels disappointed as he searches for a table.

He finds one pressed against the wall in the far corner. It’s half shielded from everyone else by a bookshelf, and he just hopes that will help you be less distracted.

He lays his bag down and pulls out his plans for today. Last session, despite your protests, he had made you take tests for all your subjects. You were most terrible in Algebra, so that’s what you would be working on today.

Jungkook lazily scrolls on Vine while waiting for you to show up, and when you do, you’re 10 minutes late. You say goodbye to your friend Giselle and walk into the library. He hates how good you look in his clothes. He could get used to the view.

You look around for a few seconds before spotting him. You throw him a quick wave, jogging over to the table. You set your stuff down, quickly propping your head on your hand.

“What’re we doing today?” You ask, and Jungkook gulps heavily. He feels disappointed that your session today had to be in the library, considering what happened like last time. He internally reprimands himself for thinking such thoughts before shoving a worksheet he made towards you.

“Algebra,” He says under his breath, trying to keep himself under control. He still hadn’t been able to relieve himself, and the effects were starting to weigh on him.

Surprisingly, you don’t protest. In fact, you pick up a pencil and get straight to work. He feels a little bit uneasy. You simply just ask questions every so often, and he explains the best he can. He even finds himself bored. Apparently, his expectations were too high.

Every doubt is shattered when he feels a finger linger on his hand. It slowly travels down his arm, and further down, tracing his torso in a way that makes his breath hitch. It stops at his waistband, and he stops breathing entirely.

He looks over at you, only to find you apparently very focused on the work in front of you. He gasps quietly as your hand disappears under his cargo pants.

You start to rub slowly against his cock, and he bites hard down on his lip to keep himself from making noise. His body almost immediately reacts to you, his cock growing hard underneath your hand.

“___, we’re in public,” He whispers lowly. Your eyes still don’t leave your work.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, and he lets out a quiet groan as an answer.

Your hand slips underneath his boxers, and his hand flies up to grip the table as your hand drags down the length of him. You’re hardly touching him but he can feel you all over.

Your hand grips the base of his cock, and you lazily glide up and down, reaching his tip. His fingernails dig deeper into the table, trying desperately to stay quiet, but it feels so good, and you’re hardly even trying.

Pre-cum leaks from his tip, causing you to glide down his length more easily. You slowly begin to squeeze harder, and he promises himself that he will never be able to jack off the same again. Not without remembering how good just your hand is making him feel.

He tastes blood as he bites into his lips harder, his eyes squeezing shut. He desperately wants to touch you, but you guys are barely concealed as it is. Your body is positioned in front of him so nobody could tell what is happening, but the things he wants to do to you right now just can’t be hidden.

You fuck him with your hand harder, and Jungkook can’t help as a whimper escapes his lips. It feels too good. His head hangs, trying to hide his face with his hair, but your hand forces his head back up.

“I wanna see your pretty face,” You whisper, and he almost climaxes right there. The friction with you hand feels so fucking good, he can’t help but thrust his hips upwards, fucking himself with your hand.

“Hey, ___, what’s up?” Jungkook hears a voice say. He snaps his head up. He feels horrified to spot the jock you were making out with under the bleachers standing next to your guys’ table. He also is horrified that you don’t stop. Shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I’ve forgotten to text you. I’ve been busy,” You say casually as if you weren’t giving him the most amount of pleasure he’s felt in his entire life under the table.

“With what?” The jock asks, and Jungkook wishes with everything he has that he’ll go away. You quicken your pace, and Jungkook grips the table harder. He can feel his orgasm start to build.

“Tutoring. This is my tutor. Wanna introduce yourself?” You turn to him, fluttering your eyelashes. He gives you a look that begs for mercy, but you simply just give him an evil smile and flick your wrist around him. He almost cries out and begrudgingly turns to the jock.

“Jeon Jungkook. I’m a freshman,” He mutters through his clenched teeth. You twist your hair around your finger. The guy introduces himself but Jungkook doesn’t hear a word.

“I’ll talk to you later. Good luck at your game tonight,” You tell him, pressing your pencil against your lip. The jock flashes a smile before wandering off.

Jungkook wants to tell you off for being so reckless, but he’s too focused on reigning in the moans that escape his lips. You don’t stop, in fact, you speed up. His nails are practically digging crescents into the table, and his hair begins to stick to his forehead. He distantly feels embarrassed about how worked up he’s getting over a hand job.

The pleasure begins to build, and he knows he won’t last much longer. He looks over at you with a begging plea. You lean over and brush his hair back with your free hand, placing your lips against his ear.

“Cum for me,” You whisper, the words brushing against his ear deliciously. That’s all it takes. He swears he can see stars as he orgasms, biting down on his lip and barely concealing his noises.

He can feel his cum decorate his torso, but he doesn’t give a shit right now. All he can focus on is the lazy gliding of your hand helping him through his climax, until he whines in overstimulation.

You carefully take your hand out from under his pants. He watches with hooded lids as you bring your fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting his essence left behind on your skin. He could get hard again at the sight.

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to cum in my pants,” Jungkook retorts quietly after he catches his breath, trying to adjust himself. You simply smirk at him.

“Yeah, but then I realized how much I wanted to see you squirm under my touch in public.”

Jungkook’s face heats as he realizes how pathetic he had acted from something as simple as your hand. Seeing as though the session is over anyway, he collects all his things into his bag, desperately wanting to change clothes. He turns to you, unsure of what to say now and slightly nervous he had disappointed you.

“Uh, thanks,” He says, before internally slapping himself in the face. Did he seriously just thank you? You laugh in response, which certainly doesn’t help.

“Anytime,” You reply, and he practically runs out of the library, his boxers soiled, his dignity slightly bruised and a little bit horny.

“You gave him a hand job at the library?” Giselle says loudly, and you shush her, darting your head around the mall.

“Be quiet! But… yes,” You reply, smiling at the memory. How cute he had been, how big and heavy he felt underneath your hand. You can’t help but wonder how he would feel inside you, but you know it’s too soon for all that yet.

“You’re evil, ___! Did he last long?” She asks, and you giggle a bit before taking a bite out of your mall pretzel.

“Not at all. But it’s okay, he’s cute and his cock was fucking huge,” You reminisce, and Giselle gasps, hitting you on the shoulder a few times.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about taking his virginity! Well, assuming he is a virgin,” She wonders aloud as you two wander into a clothing shop. You absentmindedly pick up a shirt, humming to the song playing on the speaker.

“Oh definitely. But taking it? Hmm, I dunno. Maybe. I really don’t want to get my hopes up on a guy just to figure out all they wanted was to get in my pants. Again,” You roll your eyes, remembering your most recent ex.

“Oh, c’mon, ___. I don’t think he’s like that. He’s different,” Giselle tells you, and you know she’s right. But you’re not good for him, you’re the definition of a bad influence.

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t think I’m the type of person he should hang out with. He’s got a lot of stuff going for him…” You trail off, and Giselle grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at her.

“___, please don’t start with this. Yes, you make some bad decisions sometimes, but don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re one of the most optimistic, friendliest people I know. You deserve happiness too,” She tells you, and you have to hold back tears. You don’t know if she’s right, but maybe you should give it a try. Put your happiness first above everything else.

“Thank you, Giselle. Maybe you’re right.”

“I always am. Now, c’mon. We have to pick out an outfit for Eunchae’s party this weekend, and if you take Jungkook as your date, you need to look good as hell.”

You laugh as she drags you through the store. It’s true that Eunchae is throwing a party this Saturday, and you had planned on asking Jungkook to come with you. It’s definitely not his type of scene but you really want him to be there. You find yourself liking spending time with him.

It’s the Monday after your eventful session with him on Friday, and even outside of the sessions you like talking with him. He asks you questions that no one else seems to care about. He entertains you as you talk about your favorite music, your vinyl collection, your social media, and more. You didn’t think that anyone cared enough to ask about those parts of yourself.

What you love more, though, is talking about him. He doesn’t like to talk about himself much, but when he does, you cling onto the information like a leech. He’s really into pop as much as he’s embarrassed about it, and he’s addicted to Vine. He has a dog back home named Bam, and it’s his dream to attend Coachella one day.

He chose psychology as a major because he used to have a lot of anxiety that was helped by therapy and he wants to help others like that too. You love these bits of him, feeling like you’re piecing together the larger puzzle that is Jeon Jungkook.

The theme of the party is singers, so you decide to go as Lana Del Rey, and Giselle as Marina and the Diamonds. You buy a white mini dress inspired by the sixties, a flower crown, and chunky heels to emulate Lana’s vibe. You’re just hoping that Jungkook will agree to go with you. Maybe you’ll even take things a step forward with him.

Jungkook’s heart thrums as he knocks on your big ass door once, twice. It’s yet another Friday (A.K.A his newly favorite day), and you guys had planned to meet at your house this time. You had briefly mentioned hanging out at his dorm, but Jungkook quickly refused. He knew that Yoongi would be drooling over you and he’d rather drop dead than let that happen.

Considering how all the other sessions have gone, he can’t help but feel excited for how this one will go. He also likes hanging out with you. Like, a lot. You make fun of him sometimes, but he doesn’t mind. Your laugh is soon becoming his favorite sound.

You open the door with a wide smile. You weren’t at school today, and he can guess what you were doing to fill the time. Your hair is now a silky lavender color, the strands pulled into two pigtails, your hands stained purple from the effort. You’re wearing an off the shoulder T-shirt of a movie from the 80’s, a mini denim skirt and dirty converse. Jungkook immediately feels stupid in his red flannel and skinny jeans.

“What’s that?” You ask, your gaze floating to the box balancing in his hands. Jungkook clears his throat and awkwardly fumbles with the top before pulling it open.

“They’re red velvet cookies,” He explains, “The other week you were talking about how much you love them so I made them for you.”

Jungkook feels entirely confused when you throw your head back laughing.

“No, silly, Red Velvet, like the new kpop group!” You say through your laughter, to which Jungkook just feels more confused.

“Kpop?” He asks. You throw a wider smile at him.

“Yeah, y’know, like Gangnam Style? It’s a type of music,” You explain. Jungkook facepalms himself.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“No, no! Luckily, Red Velvet also happens to be my favorite flavor,” You pluck a cookie out of the tray and pop it into your mouth, “Now let’s get to learning, Nerd.”

Jungkook follows you into your house, his face still a little red from the whole cookie situation but glad it ended up working out in his favor. He also is happy that your annoying brother Jimin isn’t home.

His face heats as he enters your room, remembering what happened last time he was here. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been imagining what this session would be like. Or, per se, what you would do to him.

“I got a B- on my Algebra test. I know it’s not that impressive, but I was proud of myself,” You remark, plopping down on your bed. Jungkook follows, awkwardly placing the cookies and his backpack next to himself.

“No, ___, that’s good! I’m proud of you,” He remarks, and you give him a smile that makes him believe you’ve never been told that before.

“Thank you. I’m also doing way better in English. General Psychology is the only thing I’m struggling with, though…” You trail off, twirling a piece of your lavender hair around your finger. Jungkook frowns.

“Isn’t that your major?” He asks, even though he knows that answer. It’s just strange to him that you’re a junior, so you will have been studying psychology for three years already, yet that’s what you’re struggling with most. You sigh in response.

“Yeah, it’s just fucking boring as hell,” You say, and your response just confuses him more.

“So why is that your major?” He questions, and your eyes cloud over. You go silent for so long that he thinks you’re just going to ignore him, but you finally speak again.

“I wish it wasn’t. My parents are forcing me to study it. Because God forbid one of their kids wants to do anything besides work in a career that will get you a shit ton of money and simultaneously make you want to jump off a bridge.”

“What do you wanna do?” He asks, genuinely curious. You purse your lips, staring at the strand of hair you have wrapped around your finger.

“Cosmetology. I want to do hair. It’s my biggest passion. But my parents would never let me,” You admit, and Jungkook mulls over your confession before grabbing your hand and forcing you to look at him.

“Who gives a shit what they think? Who gives a shit what anyone thinks? It’s your life, ___, and you deserve to be happy. It’s not your parents , not your brothers, but it’s yours. And you should take charge of it, because the last word I think of when I think of you is ‘pushover’.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, your lips pulling up into a smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook. Maybe I will work up the courage one day. But I have a Psych test next week, and we’ve already wasted a lot of time,” You say, glancing at your clock as Jungkook chuckles.

Today he helps you work on studying for your test and writing a research paper. You actually seem focused and determined to learn more, which is such a stark difference from how this started. Jungkook, however, can’t stop his mind from traveling to dirty places.

He keeps glancing down at the bed, gnawing on his lip. You seem so concentrated, but he’s having a growing problem in his pants. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on math equations and how bad the bathrooms at uni smell after lunch.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” You ask, looking up at him under your lashes. He swears his glasses fog up as he clears his throat.

“Uh, we-well, I…,” He sighs heavily, “I guess I was just wondering what new thing we are going to try today.” You chuckle at his response, suddenly dropping your pencil. He gulps as you turn around and bend over, trying not to stare at your ass as you dig for something under your bed.

You find it, releasing a small “ah-ha!”, turning around and presenting it to him. Jungkook’s eyebrows raise as he tries to discern what’s in your hand.

“Is that a highlighter? Like the one you were eating on the first day of school?” He asks, and you giggle.

“No, silly, it’s a vape. Do you know what they are?” You ask, and Jungkook feels his face go red. He can’t believe he embarrassed himself like that.

“Yeah, I do,” he replies, which is true. He’s seen plenty of angst teenage movies to know what they are, he had just never seen one in person. This one is different from the one you had on the first day of school; this one is a neon blue instead of a baby pink, and you had bejeweled it with your initials.

“Then here. I want you to try it,” You hold it out in front of you. Jungkook stares at the tiny thing, slightly disappointed this would be what you’re making him do. He has also never done anything like this before, but he wants to make you happy, so he takes it from you, wearily holding it, lost as to what to do.

“Just put that part to your lips and breathe in,” You instruct, and he follows your directions.

Hot air fills his lungs, flavored something pungent (blueberry? blue raspberry?), and he coughs. He coughs so hard he thinks he might bend over and puke. The feeling afterwards isn’t the slow, relaxed one he had thought it would be, but something regretful and he almost feels nauseous. He peeks at you, expecting you to be laughing at his reaction, but your face is stoic.

“Did you want me to do it again?” He asks, desperately wanting you to say no. He doesn’t know how you do this so often. To his relief, you shake your head.

“No. That was my last hit, anyway.”

“So what was the point of making me do that?” Jungkook asks, his eyebrows scrunched together. Why would you want him to just take one hit? He had figured that you’d get him high or something. You sigh, staring at your feet.

“I’m the first one to admit that I have a problem. One time I accidentally threw my vape out in the garbage and I dug through it for ten minutes just to get it back. Sometimes it’ll be the dead of night and I’ll go out just because I know I only have a few hits left. But I just let you finish mine because that terrible feeling that I need all that shit goes away when I’m with you. I wanted to show you that but this is the only way I know how.”

Jungkook quirks up a smile at your confession, his heart feeling as though it may burst.

“Is this your way of saying you care about me?” He asks. You laugh in response.

“Maybe it is.”

You press your eyeshadow brush against your eye, finishing your makeup and admiring your work in the mirror. You did a great job; everyone will know exactly who you are. You teased your hair up into a big, Lana- inspired look with a flower crown placed on top, a baby blue 60s mini dress and matching heels. All you need is a cigarette and boy problems and you two will be twins (both of which are very acquirable for you).

Giselle smiles at you through the mirror, her hair even bigger than yours with a bow, a dress similar to yours but in pink, a heart drawn in eyeliner on her cheek and huge bottom lash falsies. You both did amazing emulating your respective celebrities, and you take around 20 minutes taking pictures for your tumblr, just knowing you two will go viral for your looks.

“So, what do you think Jungkook will go as?” She asks, placing down your polaroid camera. You observe the pictures you two took as you think back to last night. It had taken you ages to convince him to come with you to this party, and he finally agreed but refused to tell you what he’d be going as. And apparently you wouldn’t find out until you got to the party as he was riding with his roommate.

“Probably something nerdy like Justin Bieber or something,” You giggle to yourself, just imagining that. Sure, he’d look ridiculous, but he’d also look entirely adorable. Your head snaps up when you realize Giselle is watching you with a knowing smile.

“Damn, ___, do you really like him that much?” She questions. You sigh, staring down at your shoes.

“Would it be terrible if I said yes?” You ask in a small voice. Giselle’s face grows serious as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course not. ___, you do so much to please everyone else. It’s time that you do what you want to do,” She reassures you. You give her a warm smile as you consider her words. Maybe she’s right.

As you two depart for the party, you can’t help but feel nervous. A strange, unreasonable feeling of excitement yet dread has filled your body, like your brain knows something you don’t. You gnaw on your lip as you park down the road from Eunchae’s house, the street already filled with cars.

You approach Eunchae’s familiar house, smiling as you realize how many people attended and how many actually dressed up. You spot a Charli xcx, a Lady Gaga, a few Taylor Swifts, a Drake, an Eminem, and so many more artists you can’t help but smile. You send a quick text to Jungkook to let him know you’re here as Giselle leads you inside, and you subconsciously search for his messy head of hair in the crowd.

“Sup, bitches!” You hear Eunchae’s already drunk voice as she approaches you with Ni-ki on her arm. Eunchae is dressed as Ke$ha with crazy glitter makeup and an egregious amount of fishnets, and Ni-ki as Marty Healy from the 1975 with his hair rumpled and sunglasses.

“Seriously, Eunchae? I don’t think it’s even ten yet,” Giselle remarks as she checks her watch. Eunchae scoffs, her drink almost sloshing out of her cup.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“It was already five o’clock. Like, four hours ago-“

“Anyways, ___! You look bad as hell tonight!” She interrupts, turning to you, “Where’s your little boy toy?” She asks. You’re wondering the same question. You can’t spot Jungkook anywhere, and you feel slightly disappointed. You sincerely hope he didn’t bail out on you.

“I dunno. Maybe he decided not to-“

“___!” You hear from behind you. You turn around, and you’re surprised when you notice Jungkook. Except, he’s definitely not dressed as Justin Bieber. He sports a white baseball hat, a gold chain, long denim shorts, an oversized T-shirt and white rimmed sunglasses that read, “Soulja Boy”. Well, you sure weren’t expecting that. Or that he looks so damn good.

He pushes his sunglasses up, and you notice that his eyes look smudged with eyeliner. He has that just fucked kind of look that makes you want to pounce on him. You might be more fucked than you thought. You also don’t miss how his eyes rake over your body thoughtfully, slowly.

“Let me guess, you’re dressed as Priscilla Presley?” He questions. Your eyebrows knit together.

“Who the fucks that? I’m Lana Del Rey,” You reply, crossing your arms. Jungkook pulls his lips up into a smile.

“Our generation is doomed. C’mon, I spotted some spiked fruit punch that’s right up your alley,” He says, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the crowd. You throw one last look back at your friends, and Giselle gives you a sly smile and two thumbs up.

Eunchae’s house isn’t small by any means, but it feels that way with the amount of people crowded around the house. Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightens as he pulls you to the kitchen, weaving between sweaty bodies as the bass line to “Boom Clap” thrums up into your body.

You spot the punch bowl and pour yourself a small cup, sipping on it and meeting Jungkook’s slightly confused stare.

“I thought you’d wanna get hammered at a party like this,” He remarks. You lower your cup slowly, shooting him a sly smile.

“I would, but I have a feeling I’ll want to remember tonight,” Without explaining yourself you down the rest of the cup and pull him into the living room where everyone is dancing, “C’mon, I love this song!”

You and Jungkook dance (well, you dance, he more so just jumps around awkwardly) for what feels like forever, and you can’t seem to peel the smile off of your face. Eventually, it slows down into the song “Halo” by Beyoncé, and Jungkook places his hands on your hips, swaying slowly with you like the most cliché movie scene ever.

“Look at me, slow dancing with a Freshie,” You remark, and Jungkook chuckles.

“And I bet every guy here is jealous of me,” He whispers, and his face contorts into an expression that reads he didn’t mean to say that out loud. But you giggle and blush anyway.

His embrace is warm around you and his scent embraces you like a familiar hug. You smile up at him. You don’t know what you’re feeling, just something amazing and wondrous and something you hope is eternal. Jungkook’s face softens, his mouth opening to say something.

“___, I-“

“Defiling this poor freshman, huh, sis?” You hear your brother’s annoying voice crone from behind you. The crowd parts for him as he pushes to the front, and you roll your eyes at his outfit. He went for Justin Bieber- if Justin Bieber was an evil dickhead.

“What do you want, Jimin?” You ask, stepping away from Jungkook. You notice as the crowd circles around you and the music dies down a bit. Jimin cocks a brow, folding his arms together. Your heart skips a beat when you notice your ex, Namjoon, step out of the crowd. What the fuck is going on?

“Do you know how tiring it’s been having you as my sister? Look at me, ___. Perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect record, perfect family- oh, wait, scratch that. You’re ruining my completely clean slate with your disgusting character. Tutoring hasn’t been helping, our parents' punishments haven’t been helping. So I think it’s time to resort to a different method,” He leans forward into your face, “embarrassment.”

Your heart beats faster and faster throughout his entire monologue, and you practically puke as Namjoon pulls out his phone and holds his above his head, pressing play on something you can’t see.

“Message from ___, *BEEP* Hi, baby, it’s me, ___. I didn’t mean to get so mad at you for seeing that other girl. I should’ve been more understanding like you said. I love you so much and I’ll do anything to get you back. I will-“

“Stop! Stop it!” You scream, tears flooding down your face as the crowd giggles. Jimin holds up one finger as if to shush you. The voicemail continues to play from Namjoon’s phone.

“… and I promise I won’t get mad at you again. I just need to be with you! Tell me what I need to do. Please, I-“

“She said to stop,” Jungkook says from beside you, and Namjoon’s head flicks toward him, his eyes glowering with a gross, hostile look.

“Oh, yeah? And what’re you going to do about it? You’re her new little toy, huh? Well, let me tell you something. She’ll take the one thing she wants from you, but be careful, she’ll latch onto you like a leech, so clingy, so desperate for someone, anyone to love her-“

You don’t get to hear the rest of the sentence because Jungkook runs up to him and punches him in the jaw. The crowd gasps as Namjoon slowly turns back to him, holding his jaw. Before you can even process it, Namjoon hits back, and a full on fight breaks out. You don’t stay to watch, though. You slip through the crowd and out the back door with no one noticing you. You feel bad leaving Jungkook behind, but you’re so filled with embarrassment you can’t stand staying a second longer.

To your dismay, your brother is standing by the back door. You want to punch him and kick him and make him physically feel what you’re feeling emotionally.

“I’m sorry it had to go like that, sis, but you’ll start acting right now. It’s for the better, one day you’ll become a nice therapist and you’ll thank me for-“

Before he can finish his sentence, you rip his ridiculously expensive watch that he loves more than you off of his hand, throw it on the ground and crush it under your heel. He screams like you just killed his child.

“No, no, not my watch! Oh, you’re going to pay for that you little-“

You don’t hear the rest because you start running as fast as you can down the road, still crying, still feeling like a complete piece of shit. You pull your heels off and hold them in your hand, running faster towards nothing and away from anything.

Because you know everything they said was right. All you crave is love, but you’re too fucked up to receive it from anyone. Not from your parents, not from Jimin, and certainly not from Jungkook who doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you.

You eventually stop running once you reach Main Street, grabbing your extra vape in your purse and taking a hit from it. You haven’t done it since your last tutoring session with Jungkook, trying to become better for him. But now you know it’s pointless because someone like you could never change.

You sigh a breath of relief as the flavored air hits your mouth, the stress washing away from your body. Suddenly all your problems seem small, and they disappear in the smoke you blow through your nose.

Your stomach grumbles, so you resolve to look for something to eat. Around the corner on Main Street, you spot what seems to be a small food truck festival, and the air smells delicious as you walk closer, still vaping. You don’t miss the weird looks you get, but you honestly don’t give a shit.

You spot a taco truck, and suddenly gobbling down some birria tacos in your bed as you sob until

you can’t breathe doesn’t sound so bad. You go up and order despite how crazy you must look. As the chef starts preparing your food, you have way too much time to drown in embarrassment of the night’s events.

“___,” You hear someone say from behind you. You whip your head around and almost gasp. It’s Jungkook, standing there with a bandaid on his bruised nose and blood stained on his lip.

“Jungkook? What’re you doing here?” You ask, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Yoongi pulled me off of that asshole, but I roughed him up pretty good. I didn’t know where you went but I smelled tacos so I went in that direction. I know that’s your favorite food,” He offers a small smile that you can’t help but return. You told him that once. Once. And that was enough.

You shyly take your food, and Jungkook offers to walk you home, to which you accept. You two walk in silence as you enjoy your food, too hungry to wait until you get home. It starts to rain, and usually you would worry about your hair and eye makeup getting ruined but you can’t look crazier than you already do.

You reach your house, and Jungkook lingers for a moment, staring at you. Your parents aren’t home, but you would feel weird having him in the house with you after everything that happened tonight. Still, you can’t just leave him in the rain like this, so you offer for him to come inside. He accepts a little too eagerly.

You trudge upstairs to your room. You feel like absolute shit. You just want to walk into Jimin’s room and destroy all of his expensive little toys, but you know that would make things worse so you just walk into your room instead. Jungkook awkwardly on the edge of your bed as you throw your stuff down on your desk and observe yourself in the mirror.

You really do look like shit. Your mascara is smudged dramatically all around your eyes all the way down to your lips, and your hair hands in knotted, wet clumps around your shoulders. Usually when you feel like this, you would dye your hair, but it’s too freshly dyed to do that and you don’t want Jungkook to witness the mini manic episodes you have while dyeing your hair, so you make a side note to maybe dramatically chop it soon.

“I look like shit,” You say to yourself. You make eye contact with Jungkook who’s staring at you through the mirror. You turn around, making eye contact with him.

“You look beautiful. You always do.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Jung-“

“No, you don’t understand,” He gets up, putting his hands on your shoulders, “honestly, screw your brother and ex for embarrassing you like that, and your parents for forcing you to do something that you don’t wanna do. Screw them all because they’re missing out on an amazing, beautiful, smart, and endlessly talented woman who, although she doesn’t think she does, deserves all the love in the world.”

After his confession, he punctuates it with a soft kiss. You look up at him, with tears in your eyes. For the first time in your life, you feel like someone actually cares about you. And after looking into his eyes, you’re sure he does.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You whisper.

You grab your vape out of your pocket, your growing headache pounding heavier and increasingly hard to ignore. You take a hit, relief flooding through your body. Jungkook watches you with narrowed eyes.

“You know I hate that you do that, right?” He asks, his voice low in a way that turns you on. Suddenly, your mood switches. You cock a brow at him, laying down on your bed, your eyes never leaving him as you place the vape between your lips.

“Yeah? Come and get it then.”

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, his gaze becoming heated as he takes a tentative step towards you. Your breath halters as his weight dips down into the bed, heat radiating off of him as he crawls over you. He reaches down, grabbing the vape with his teeth, his lips caressing just enough to make you gasp lightly. He pulls it out, and then disposes it off to the side. Fuck, that was hot.

He leans down to kiss you, but this time, it’s not soft. It’s hungry with desire, the same desire that you can feel pooling between your legs. How long has it been since you’ve had an orgasm? You literally cannot remember, and you’re feeling the effects of waiting so long right now. You’re so desperate for him and he’s barely even touched you.

He pulls away for a brief moment, his breath heavy, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“___, you always make me feel so good. Let me touch you, please,” He practically begs, and you agree so quickly you’re sure you’ll be embarrassed by it when the desire washes away.

Jungkook’s warm hands travel up your thigh, goosebumps being left behind his touch. His hand disappears under your breath, and your back arches in anticipation. He leaves small circles on your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you need him most.

“Jungkook,” You beg, and you don’t miss the small smile that pulls at his lips. He’s enjoying this, what an asshole!

Finally he presses against you, and you’re glad your parents aren’t home with the sound you make. He pulls your panties to the side, and his eyes darken even more when he realizes how wet you are.

His finger dips inside you, and you immediately grab his arms at how good it feels. He slowly starts pumping at just the right angle. It’s only one finger, but somehow you feel so full.

“You’re so beautiful, ___,” He says quietly whilst you’re at his mercy underneath him. It feels too good, especially when he adds another finger, curling them and hitting the right spot. He’s making you feel so much pleasure, and you have to ask him how he knows how to do this.

You feel your climax building as he begins to go faster, your moans becoming falsetto as you climb closer and closer to heaven. And all you can think about is him. His scent, his warmth, his fingers inside you, his soft kind words, his chain dangling in your face. He’s so perfect you could cry.

And you do as you finally come, tears pricking your eyes as you see stars. You’re embarrassed at how desperate you’ve gotten over only his fingers, but it’s been so long and Jungkook is everything you’ve ever wanted in a man, and here he is right in front of you, giving his everything to you.

Jungkook slowly retracts his fingers, and you practically moan again as he sticks them into his mouth, licking off your residue.

You lean forward to kiss him again, barely regaining yourself after that near death experience. Jungkook practically rips off his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his pants. You do the same, and you regret not wearing something sexier than just a plain black set.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask tentatively. Jungkook swallows and nods eagerly, placing a hand on your cheek.

“I’m so completely sure. I want to experience this with you. It’s my first time, obviously, but I want to do this with you.”

“Okay. Don’t worry if it’s not perfect. I don’t expect it to be. I just want to be with you,” You reply, to which he smiles. You reach over into your bedside drawer, grabbing a condom. Jungkook lays down on the bed as you open it with your teeth, throwing the wrapper away.

You slowly pull down his boxers, and are truly taken aback at how beautiful he is. I guess what they say about nerds is true, you think, as you roll the condom onto him.

You grab his cock and position it to your entrance, steadying yourself with your hands against his chest. Jungkook takes a deep breath, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“You ready?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. You slowly sink down. Jungkook reacts by grasping the sheets with his hand, groaning loudly.

“Fuck, ___, you feel so good,” He moans, one hand reaching up to tangle in your hair. You feel the exact same way; he fills you up so good, hitting all the right spots without even moving.

You slowly start to move, the sensation already sending goosebumps down your body. Jungkook seems to feel the same way, judging by the way he’s practically crying in pleasure and whimpering every time you sink down onto him.

You’re sure you look crazy right now, but Jungkook can’t stop telling you how beautiful you are. And you can’t help but believe it because you feel pretty damn sexy right now.

You begin to speed up, and Jungkook reacts by beginning to move with you, his thrusts causing him to go even deeper inside you, both of you reacting with loud and desperate noises.

Your second climax starts to build up, and you can tell he feels the same. He stares up at you as if you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You feel so perfect around me,” He whimpers, and you blush as if some kind of middle school crush. The hand still tangled in your hair pulls you down, and he gives you a breathtaking kiss.

His other hand leaves the sheets and rests on the small of your back, helping you to go faster. With that and the way he’s moving, you’re already almost there. You can tell he is too, and you indulge in this little slice of heaven he’s so generously given you. If you could live in this moment forever, you would.

Jungkook gives you another kiss, moaning into your mouth about how perfect you are, and with that you topple over the edge, screaming his name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear. Pleasure ripples through your body as your eyes roll back, and you practically cry from how euphoric it feels. Jungkook follows you into heaven, your name slipping from his lips as he grips your body, intending to never let go.

After what seems like a million years, you finally gain the energy to lift yourself off of him, helping him to dispose of the condom before dropping beside him on the bed. His arm immediately wraps around you as he pulls you close, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I know this is kinda a stupid way to ask it, but ___, would you be my girlfriend?” He asks tentatively, and you can’t help but give him a big cheesy grin at how cute it is.

“Of course, you nerd,” You reply, giving him a soft kiss. After a few more moments, he speaks again.

“Y’know, they offer cosmetology classes at uni. It wouldn’t hurt to just try one,” He suggests. You smile again.

“Maybe I will. And maybe you will put in an effort to be cooler, y’know, now that you’re going to be my boyfriend. Maybe less Taylor Swift and more leather jackets?” You suggest, entirely kidding because you love him the way he is. A stupid grin pulls at his lips.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Description:It began as him being your fan, but now, he watches you like it's his job. He can’t stop the fixation he has on you. Your music, your voice, your face, your body... and soon, it will all belong to him.

Pairing(s): Fan!Jeon Jungkook X Fem!Idol!Reader

Warning(s): Obsessive Jeon Jungkook, Stalker Jeon Jungkook, Famous reader, creepy jungkook, Sexually Explicit Content: Virgin Jungkook, experienced!reader, slight dacryphilia, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, body worship, sub jungkook, switch reader

Genre(s): Idol Au, Yandere

WC:8.6k

Song-Dark But Just a Game By Lana Del Rey

A/N: Hi, I know I haven't uploaded in a while so there's this I wrote it because lately I've been obsessed with Jungkook due to his recent collabs. Just some food for thought, I originally started writing this a while ago but thought I might scrap it but had a change of heart so here. I hope you enjoy!

You wave goodbye to your fans and step off the stage, eager to get out of your concert outfit. You’re known globally for your astounding stage presence, present interactions with fans, and your eye catching dance moves paired with your catchy lyrics. You are a celebrity that's worshipped by many and praised by every generation.

”That was a bad show,” You note in between shaky breaths as you collapse backstage. You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. It takes a lot of energy to do what you do, but even then sometimes you can’t even live up to the life long expectations from your fans.

”I think you did well, ___, especially with everything going on,” Your manager, Jin, says as he hands you an ice cold cup of water. You take it and down it in one gulp before thinking about what Jin just said. A lot is going on right now in your personal life, but you can’t let it affect your performance. Your fans count on you to give out your best everyday, no matter the cost.

“Well, I can’t really let it get to me, you know? I do have an image,” You mutter as one of the staff begins fanning you down to stop the sweat that cascades down your forehead. Maybe you did go a little overboard.

”___, I’m serious though, take some time off if you need to. Don’t overwork yourself. You did good out there,” You nod, then walk further back stage to your dressing room to change out of your uncomfortably sweaty clothes.

You understand completely what Jin is hinting at. Your stalker. Well, you hate to even call them that, to put a label on them, but they can't seem to leave you alone. From texting you from multiple numbers, having things delivered to your house, or following you around. They’ve done it all and they won't stop. Usually when things like this happen, which is regularly, the police handle it and the person is locked up within a week. This, however, is a different case. They are untraceable. No foot print left behind. It’s scary and frustrating, but that’s the price of fame.

You have to live with it for right now, even if you feel like someone’s peering over your shoulder at night. At least they aren’t actively trying to approach you or breaking into your house. That is the worst case scenario though.

You take off your top then grab a towel to wipe off most of the sweat from your body. You still feel a little icky, but you’d likely take a shower when you get home. When you unclasp your bra, that's when you hear it. It’s the sound of heavy breathing floating from behind you. You try so hard to ignore it and keep changing, but then you swear you hear a small groan. Your head whips around, your eyes darting around the room. Thankfully, you don’t discover anything worrisome. It was probably just the wind. You continue, slipping on a T-shirt that adorns your merch. You slip on matching shorts, grabbing your phone to immediately let Jin know you’re on your way back for the casual staff get together you all have after each Concert.

Almost immediately forgetting about the strange sounds that left a shiver down your spine.

To Jungkook you’re like any other hobby. He spends most of his time listening to your music, buying your new releases, putting up your posters on his wall. He’s a fan of yours, a big fan.

He doesn’t remember how it started, but he likes to say it was when he met you at a fan sign event. At the time he was just some nerdy loser who was regularly ignored by his classmates and family members. Honestly, that kind of personality was more than likely half of your fanbase. But at the time your music was his escape, like a portal to a new world. It helped him throughout high school, it got him through the stares and name calling. Made him forget he was a shut in loser. He saved up a lot just so he could go to your fan sign. He wanted so terribly to meet his savior.

It was the most wonderful day of his life. You were so kind to him. Almost too kind. Not only signing his album, but when he told you how much your music inspired him, you smiled and giggled. You actually giggled. Jungkook had never been able to make a girl giggle before.

You’d spoken to him so long that the person behind him grew impatient and pushed him to the ground angrily. He’d accepted his fate and grabbed his broken frames that had fallen from his face. That was his life, he was used to it. He didn't expect you to care too much, but you did. You moved from behind the desk and helped him to his feet, apologizing on behalf of your angry fan. The security took them away as you inspected Jungkook, looking for injuries. He’ll never forget what you told him.

“You shouldn't let people treat you like that. Speak up and fight back if you have to. I have to go. But take care of yourself, Jungkook,” You said before leaving him to find his way out of the event. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, you had seen him in a vulnerable state but you still cared. He was small back then, wimpy, with no back bone. But he has changed. For you he has changed. He is bigger, stronger, and people fear bumping into him. He’s gotten a sleeve of tattoos, a multitude of them dedicated to you,and piercings were a must; he'd heard you once say that your ideal type needed piercings.

He’s been dedicating most of his time outside of work tracking you, doing his best to stay up to date with your whereabouts.You ignore his calls and block every number he texts you from, but it doesn’t deter him. It only makes his fixation stronger. You don’t know it yet, but he belongs to you. He knows your name is carved into his heart.

His guest room in his apartment is why he can’t have friends over. The room is solely dedicated to all of his precious pictures and items he collects of yours.

Right now he is meaning to add something new to his collection. He wants something freshly worn. He's never gone this far before, never this close. He usually maintains a distance, but he got carried away like this. He wants to see you up close. He doesn’t expect you to start undressing, and he feels his self control slowly slipping away from himself as he watches the sweat glisten on your bare skin from just beyond the closet. He gulps, his eyes scanning over your naked body. He’s been saving himself for you, but just like any other man, he gets urges that not even his hand can satiate. Right now, you are on full display.

You’re putting on a show for him. You have to be. The subtle bounce of your breasts leaves a small groan escaping from his lips. He barely has time to register his mistake before you whip your head around, your eyes slowly scanning the room.

His breathing stops then, thinking he’s been found. But, thankfully, you return back to getting dressed, but quicker this time. Jungkook scolds himself mentally for losing it like that. You aren’t his to take, not yet anyway.

It has to be ninety degrees out at least. You don’t know why your staff thought it would be appropriate to continue having an event whilst there is a heat wave. You’re so irritable, but are trying your absolute best not to show it.  

The heat is clouding your senses, consuming your thoughts. Your head spins, and you realize you haven’t taken a single sip of your water. You mentally scold yourself for being so reckless. 

As you take a sip of water, your team finally recognizes that it’s too hot and begins trying to organize a way for you to switch the fan meeting inside. You know your fans have to be impatient and sweaty, so it takes more than a few shouts to redirect it. 

Your manager realises this quickly, shifting his focus to you. You’re not looking too good, but they need you and your voice. Two staff members begin fanning you down as Jin approaches you and whispers into your ear.

“I think you are the only person they’ll listen to, ___.” You sigh at this, accepting your fate. You squeeze your palms into fists to try and settle the nerves. Your hearts racing in your chest, but it's nothing you can't handle. All you have to do is stand up and tell your fans that they need to move inside for safety reasons. It’s easy, you often sing on stages in front of thousands of people, so why are you so nervous? Something’s not right, but you can’t worry about this right now. You’re a celebrity, you can’t disappoint your fans. This moment is temporary, but how you make them feel is forever. 

“Uh, I-I..” You stammer as you try to stand with the mic to your lips. Your eyes squint as the sun seeps into them, dribbles of sweat infiltrating and blurring your vision. 

Get a fucking grip, ___, You tell yourself.

Jin’s eyes observe you with worry whilst your fans divert their attention to you expectantly. However, before you can even manage to get something out,  you’re collapsing, tumbling to ground on the stage. All you can hear is muted gasps and the sound of your heart beat in your eardrums.  You aren’t able to catch yourself, you’re too weak. You’d skipped lunch previously that afternoon out of habit. You’re going to fall to the ground in front of all your fans. Anxiety and shame fills you in that split second, a wave of nausea entering your body. 

When you open your eyes, you somehow aren’t on the ground dry heaving from embarrassment. Instead, you’re in someone’s arms. A man in all black sweatpants, hoodie, and mask that covers most of his face is holding you.  His grip on you is strong and his eyes wide and doe like. You get lost in his eyes for a moment before realizing in a panic you don't know this man. He isn't your staff, and definitely not a venue coordinator. So that can only mean he’s a fan. Embarrassment floods your senses, but he breaks the awkward silence. 

“I’ve got you,” His voice is unexpectedly deep and sultry. You’re intrigued, but can't help the way your eyes begin seeing two of him; nausea getting the best of you. You try to swallow down your bile, but fail. His eyes assess your form and you can see the alert and concern contained within them.  You don’t even get to ask about his identity before you’re puking all of your breakfast from that morning on his black hoodie. 

Once you’re done defiling his hoodie in your dazed state you look up to see security rushing toward you hurriedly and Jin’s horrified expression as he tries to calm your fans. Your gaze flits to the crowd, and to your horror, you spot multiple phones recording the embarrassing scene before the security gets to you. You’re absolutely mortified.

On paper, you’re a perfect, unproblematic singer, so Jungkook has rarely ever had a need to defend you online from the scums that try to tarnish celebrities’ names. But now Jungkook has found his way onto multiple accounts, hacking them to delete the unsavory video of you puking on him from too many different angles. Not before saving all of them, of course. He just had to document the fact that you two were publicly together, and that close. Even if it was slightly disgusting.

Not only your company but you yourself had posted several formal apologies and made it known that you would be halting further activities. Jungkook believed your so-called fans didn't deserve your kindness. They shared, reposted, and mocked you on multitudes of different social media platforms. The only person that deserved an apology was him. Your security guards had practically tackled him even when you and your manager had told them to stop. Your manager apologized for you as you were taken away by a medical unit to be examined. This was exactly why you were being ripped apart on the internet. How could you be so cruel to a fan just helping you out?

Seemingly, Jungkook was the only one who understood why. He wasn’t supposed to have been on the stage. Everyone was taking a momentary break to drink water and recollect themselves. Jungkook knew from the second he saw you. He had somehow landed tickets to the meet and greet, and was excited to see you once again even though he did worry about you doing such an event in the heat.

After weaseling his way up front, he could see your breathing becoming fast paced and your eyelids drooping. He knew there was something wrong, but your team stood idly by, still proceeding to force you to stand. It wasn’t your fault. It was your teams’. This is precisely how he defended you on social media, correcting people about the situation whilst being passive aggressive. 

You deserve better. And the halt of further activities broke him. He can't allow that. Your music, Your personality, just ripped away from him. You are the life jacket that keeps him afloat in this deep murky ocean of confusion and uncertainty. You give his life purpose and structure. He doesn't casually spend hours at the gym for some nobody on the street to recognize him, no, never. He does this all for you. And he can't let all his work be in vain. 

Jungkook closes his tabs on his computer, trying to calm his senses. He places his headphones on and plays your newest single that he had already streamed hundreds of times. Instead of sticking with your usual girly, pop vibes, you went with a more slow and sensual sound. His mind wanders elsewhere. Of course, it’s to you. His mind remembers every subtle curve of your body, a secret hidden mole by your neck, and how light you were in his arms. He tries hard, almost too hard, to not let his mind linger too long on you like this. It riles him up, makes him want more than he can get. But right now he can’t help it.

Everything about you has stuck to him. You’re intoxicating and he can't seem to get enough of you, always reaching back to take more. As they say, once you get an inch, you end up wanting a mile. He’d be lying if he said he took his hoodie to a dry cleaners or even washed it at home. Obviously no one knows about him keeping it. It’s his forever secret. He worships the ground you walk on and dedicates hours of his days into watching you. You own a permanent spot on his heart that not even his parents can say they have. You are his world, and he’s only just figured a way to sneak his way into yours.

This being the biggest fuck up of your career would be an understatement. You’ve been bedrotting for two weeks, refusing to leave your apartment for anything, using whatever willpower you have left to order take out and binge watch episodes of cringy vampire and werewolf films from the 2010s. You are relishing your childhood as your adulthood falls apart right before your very eyes. 

But hey, you haven’t noticed any advancements from your stalker in the past two weeks, so that is a positive. Sadly, it is seemingly the only positive you can seem to find right now. You swear the whole world despises you, even the penguins in Antarctica. 

Jin tries to contact you daily, but you’re too embarrassed and miserable to call him back. The only way he knows you're alive is through the few dry texts you send him everyday. He wants you to  make a comeback to try and help everyone forget about the incident, but you both know it’s too soon and short of notice. You had realized quickly after that no one was angry about the puke, but instead they were more furious about how everything was handled that day. And your apologies somehow only seem to fuel the fire.

There is nothing you can do anymore. The fan from the meet was too anonymous. No matter how hard you or your team tried the first week, you couldn’t find anything on him. Many impersonators fled to the internet quickly claiming to be him, but just as quickly as they appeared, they also mysteriously vanished, giving no follow up. You cried helplessly, not only for your tarnished reputation but for the fan that will forever think you're a sleazeball because of the actions that occurred that day.

Now, you can no longer cry. Instead, your phone is on do not disturb, and to seal the deal, you deleted all your social media apps off your phone to prevent yourself from looking at the hateful messages many people are leaving you.

 You roll up in a ball as the sounds from the tv slowly drift away, your eyes already closing, mind focused on the much needed nap you would have. However, that's when you hear the reoccurring ringing of the doorbell as if someone is being chased outside of your apartment. You ignore it, just as you do to most things in your life, but when a shout follows, you force yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed. 

“You can’t lock yourself away forever,” A snarky voice shouts from behind the door. When you open the door, you’re met with your friends Manon and Daniela. You groan at the cheeky smiles displaying on their faces; they’re up to something.

”We come bearing gifts,” Manon says to pique your interest, which she inevitably does. You let them both into your mess of an apartment, littered with take out boxes, silverware cluttering the sink, clothes messily thrown around your living room, and food in the beginning stages of molding.

”Wow, I didn't expect it to be this bad...” Daniela mutters as her eyes scope around your filthy apartment. Your head drops in embarrassment, but Manon places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, ready to boost your mood.

”We didn’t come here to criticize, Dani. We came here to help in any way we can. Then, after, we’re hitting the town. We have something important planned tonight.” Manon encourages, and you smile, noting how your friends always seem to know just how to boost your mood. You’re ready for whatever they have in store. It’s your first time out in two weeks, after all.

“Why the fuck are you so damn pissy?”  Taehyung's words ring through Jungkook’s head like a bell. Jungkook doesn’t have many friends, Taehyung and Jimin being the two exceptions to that statement. They’re casual friends, work friends. Not close or comfortable friends. Not comfortable enough to be invited over, share food with each other, and definitely not fucking close enough to go on blind dates with each other. 

“C’mon Tae, you can’t just trick him into going on a triple blind date. You know Jungkook's not…into that sort of stuff,” Jimin concludes, and Jungkook can feel the uncertainty in that pause, and he wonders what Jimin really wanted to say.

”Well, I would’ve invited Hobi but he’s busy teaching some fucking millennial Zumba class, Jungkook was my final option,” Taehyung scoffs, which only causes Jungkook’s annoyance to grow. He definitely does not want to be talking to some random woman who just wants his dick, especially not when he can spend the night watching over you.

“Well, find someone else to go on your sex escapades with,” He scowls, his voice low and serious, trying to maintain his composure.

”I’m doing you a favor. Maybe all you need is to get laid so you stop being fucking cranky all the time. When’s the last time you had a good fuck?” Taehyung asks crudely. Jungkook almost freezes up at this but maintains his composure; he doesn't owe Taehyung anything, especially not the fact that Jungkook’s a virgin. But to get Taehyung off his back and miles away from this blind date, he’d do anything.

”I’m waiting until marriage. Not everyone wants to sleep with five hundred women before they turn thirty,” Jungkook scoffs back, but Taehyung laughs reading him like an open book.

”Says the one that poses in the mirror, flexing his muscles and is covered head to toe in tattoos. I’ll believe that when pigs fly. Spoken like a virgin afraid to get his dick wet.” Jungkook almost seethes at this before Jimin cuts in. 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to do anything you don't want to. Just entertain her whilst Tae and I secure the goodies for ourselves. I know you have to take one for the team here but please, just this once,” Jimin begs, his voice sincere. Jungkook groans before begrudgingly saying yes.  

“Now we’re talking. Just load up on some beer, man, the buzz will help you get through it. I promise,” Taehyung insists as Jungkook glares in his direction. It isn’t a bad idea, but it's solely because it came from Taehyung that makes Jungkook uneasy.

“Whatever...” He mumbles under his breath, slumping in his seat. He hadn’t realized their ‘Guests’ had arrived until Jimin gets up to greet them in the bar. Jungkook can tell by the flush on his cheeks that he’s already tipsy. 

Jungkook looks up for a moment to scope the ladies out. Two very beautiful women, but they don’t hold a candle to you. His eyes inspect more carefully for the third. He's not bringing her home, but he’d at least like to know who he has to entertain for the next two hours. He straightens up and his eyes widen, his jaw falling slack. He clenches a fist in his pocket. You. The third girl is you. And you’re fucking mesmerizing.

You breathe in and out. Daniela had only told you once you were out the house that it was a blind date. Your complaints were minimal since it has been awhile since you last put yourself out there.

You wish you could say that it's going well, but the man in front of you is in a complete daze, buffering in front of your very eyes, and you have no idea how to spark up a conversation with him.

”Jungkook, right?” You question, and his response is an unsure nod. It almost makes you laugh, how can a person be unsure of their own name.

”So...I heard you’re the youngest here,” You say. You’ve never gone after younger guys, so he does sort of spark your interest. His eyes widen at the sound of your voice, his pupils strategically avoiding your gaze. 

“I, uh, yes...” He stutters out before taking a swig from the beer in front of him. You don't think you have an intimidating aura surrounding you, but you’ve also mainly interacted with people who already know you. You’re surprised enough as it is that he hasn’t recognized you yet. 

“I’m not usually into younger guys, but actually-“ Before you can continue, he cuts your spiel short.

“Really?” He asks, his voice coming out strained. The look in his eyes proves he’s just one word away from a breakdown. 

You somehow find it endearing that he’s nervous, but still making an effort to talk to you. Maybe he does recognize you, but is trying to keep it cool. Either way, it’s cute.

”You didn’t let me finish,” You giggle as he falls back in his seat expectantly.

”M’sorry,” He mumbles out, voice low and eyes suddenly trained on his lap. You see his nervousness in full effect as his front teeth begin to nibble away at his bottom lip.

You gulp down some of your beer, trying to loosen the atmosphere between you two before continuing. 

“I was gonna say that you actually have me intrigued. You're cute,” You mutter the last part, but are sure Jungkook heard it loud and clear based solely on his reaction and the way his eyes lit up, staring into yours.

”Th-Thank you, uhm...?” He trails off, waiting for you to tell him your name. Ah, so he doesn’t recognize you. Perfect. You take a shot glass from the two that had mysteriously appeared on the table, gesturing to Jungkook to do one with you. 

“___. Just call me, ___” You say, clinking your shots together before downing them eagerly.

His hardness is straining his jeans, making it almost impossible to focus on the conversation. Maybe if he’s lucky, you’ll be the one to take care of it tonight. But he can't get ahead of himself. The conversation is flowing smoothly back and forth. He’s playing a young mindless idiot and it disgusts him a little. His Bambi eyes work on you, though. You're easily swayed based on how you reacted to them. 

Fuck, he could have you eating out of the palm of his hands, easily. He’s no light weight, so even a few shots in, he hasn’t lost himself yet. He is buzzed, though, and he can see the way you're eyeing him. His fucking cheeks specifically, you definetly wanna pinch them and that pisses him off a little; he’s always hated how round his face is, but if he had to succumb to some hidden kink you had then so be it. He’ll let you pinch them. Only you. He’ll let you coddle him all you want if it means he’ll end up being yours tonight.

”Your face is so round.” You blink lazily. There it is. Normally, he’d seethe with anger if someone pointed that out. But you, you can call him baby, play with his hair, pinch his cheeks, and take care of him. He doesn’t care because it’s you.

Your hand’s reach over without a care in the world, quickly invading Jungkook’s personal space to set your palms on his cheeks, only subtly squishing them beneath your palms. The sudden warmth of your palms stun him, yet Jungkook clenches his jaw, which you seem to be completely oblivious to.  

Right when Jungkook thinks the humiliation ritual is over, Taehyung's drunken voice lays thick in the air.

“Awww, little baby kookie.” Jungkook's eyes remain closed, clenching his jaw harder, grinding his teeth.

 “Can I squeeze?” He asks, something sinister in his eyes as Jimin pulls out his phone to capture the ridiculous exchange. However, instead of removing your hands so Taehyung can replace them, you squish Jungkook’s cheeks harder; which he doesn’t mind at all.

“No, he’s mine, get your own.” You laugh. You’re joking, he knows that, but you don’t let go. Your eyes return to his. 

Jungkook’s heart rate speeds up in his chest, his erection returning. His palms are sweaty. Why is it suddenly so hot in here, and when the hell did he get so lucky all of a sudden? Your hands are pulling him in closer for a kiss, his first kiss. 

“Mwah,” You pronounce with exaggeration. You leave a slobbery kiss on his cheek. His fucking cheek. It’s still something but he just thought, that just maybe…

You lean in closer to him, your lips centimeters away from his ear, “Not in front of them,” You pull away fast with a playful smile on your lips.

He gulps whilst nodding to look up at you. He hopes you’re actually like this, into submission. You have to be. Or else you’re just fucking with him. Either way he’ll play your game, and he will win. Because he’s been playing long before you even started.

He’s cute. Could you see yourself dating him in the future? Now, that's a different question. He's young. And you're a celebrity. Relationships aren't really your thing, but maybe this can be a casual thing. Nothing too serious.

Right now you're realizing what he reminds you of. A bunny. Which is adorable in your eyes. Maybe he's playing an act with you, because you find yourself staring at the small holes that decorate his face, hardly taking into account the beautiful art that trails up his right hand. You find the aesthetic of it attractive. You’d always fantasized about dating a man with tattoos. You had always made that known to all your friends, however, his body told an entirely different story compared to his face. The contrast of it intrigues you. 

You may be a little tipsy, well, maybe a lot, but you can see the look in his eyes, his palms stuffed into his pockets and the subtle chewing of his bottom lip. He’s nervous and shrunken in on himself. Possibly even embarrassed. 

You’re probably reading his body language wrong; he could be annoyed. You have been droning on about yourself, about what you’re into, and he’s just been staring at you with those wide eyes, with an awe-struck look on his face as if in a trance. 

“Sorry, I've just been talking your ear off,” You say to him, your voice instantly pulling him from his thoughts.

“No, that’s not it, I just...” Jungkook gulps, his eyes averting from your intense gaze, drifting slowly to your cleavage. Your low cut dress leaves little for him to imagine.

A smirk plays on your face as you notice this. You immediately understand what he wants, and you don't mind giving it to him. 

 Your eyes wander around looking at the vacant tables that your friends previously occupied, this fully solidifies the idea in your mind. Your hand finds him on the table gently trailing up his arm you can feel him tense underneath your touch.

”Seems our friends ditched us,” You say in a sultry tone. Jungkook's eyes dart around before landing on you again.

”Do you maybe wanna go back to your place...?” You propose, his eyes widening in shock.

“M-my place?” He stutters out.

”Yeah, is that okay with you?” You say as a pout begins to form on your lips. 

“Of course,” He mutters out, nodding his head eagerly as he stands up from his seat to exit the bar, the tab already having been paid. 

“Well, lead the way,” You whisper whilst rising from your seat to take his hand, interlocking it with your own, his hands warm and damp with sweat. You smile at this, finding his nervousness endearing.

You catch a glimpse of the way he licks his bottom lip and gulps, beginning to walk you to his car. You fail to notice the repeated glimpses he gives you as he does so, and on the ride to his apartment you pay no mind to his fidgety behavior. 

When you both arrive at his apartment, the room you enter is pitch black. He lets you enter first, letting you  look around after you take your shoes off, leaving them by the door.

“Where’s the light switch?” You ask curiously, but Jungkook beats you to it by turning on the lights, revealing the kitchen and living room to you. You take in the small space, appreciating how neat it is. Actually, you’d say it’s more empty than neat. Nothing sticks out to you, but you feel awkwardness rising in the air as Jungkook takes off his shoes.

“Nice place you got here,” You say, strolling around near the living room. You assume Jungkook's farther away than he is because you jump when you hear his voice from behind you.

“Do you...uh… maybe wanna come to my bedroom now?” He replies. You find it odd at first due to his eagerness, but you had originally suggested it so you let it go. You nod, and he leads the way once again but this time to his bedroom. 

The inside of his bedroom is just as tidy as his kitchen and living room are, with a few books and figures of stuff he’s into. You don’t find anything too out of the ordinary for a single man his age, which kind of comforts you. 

You look around for any signs of your merchandise, but you don’t find any. Sleeping with a fan would not be a good look for you, and also just a weird experience, but Jungkook seems to have no clue who you are, so you take a seat on the edge of his bed as he searches through his drawer intently. 

Unconsciously, you lie back onto his neatly made bed, staring up at the ceiling a moment before closing your eyes completely. The sounds of rustling and drawers opening filling the air. You swear you had almost fallen asleep, but your eyes snap open the moment you hear heavy breathing come from above you.

It’s Jungkook, of course, but you really weren’t expecting him to be hovering above you with a condom in his hand. His eyes eerily trained on your face with a look you can’t read. His breathing is heavy despite doing no rigorous activity. In that moment, the only thing saving him is his attractive face.

“I found it. T-the condom I mean…” He mutters, backing up at the view of your startled face.

“Oh, okay...” You respond. Usually, at this moment,  the man takes over. But Jungkook just standing away from you awkwardly gives you the impression that it's his first time. 

“I don’t know if this offends you or not, but… are you a virgin?” Deep in your heart you hope he answers yes, since that would explain his strange behavior. 

“Y-you can tell?” His voice sounds disappointed and even embarrassed. You begin to laugh at the pout that rests on his face. 

“No, it’s alright. I just…hadn’t expected that from you. Honestly it’s cute that you’re all nervous about this and didn’t want me to know,”  You say, and Jungkook groans.

“I just wanted to be…” Jungkook mutters, and you don’t know what he was going to finish with before he just remains silent.

“You don’t have to be anything. I guess I was a little off guard. I’ve just never had the lead when it comes to sex,” You say carefully  whilst removing your shirt and discarding it to the floor. His eyes widen at this, locked on your bra. You’d chosen a lacy black one from Victoria’s secret, hoping you’d get lucky tonight. With everything going on with you lately, it is what you need. You slip your pants off, revealing matching underwear. Jungkook's hand finds its way to his heart, trying to steady his heart beat, eyes refusing to leave your body. 

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers softly. When his gaze meets your own, you see a look you've never seen before. A look as if you’ve hung the stars for him. The admiration in his eyes makes no sense, but it definitely leaves you feeling flustered.

“I-..thank you Jungkook,” You stand up from his bed, your hands intertwining with his hoodie. You tug the piece of clothing over his head to reveal his well sculptured body underneath. He wasn’t wearing a shirt beneath his hoodie, and your fingers begin to trace up his sleeve of tattoos. Jungkook sighs at the sensation of your fingers on his skin. Your fingers trail down to his lower stomach. You press your palm against the warmth of his skin, eliciting another sigh from him. You begin to unzip his jeans, his hand finding your own, gently removing it. 

Instead, he slips them off himself, leaving him in just his boxers. Your eyes wander down, staring at his obvious erection pressing painfully against his thigh. Lewd thoughts fill your head and you lick your lips in response.

“Do you want me to-“ Jungkook’s groan interrupts your sentence. 

“I won’t last...” He growls in a low voice, “I wanna last long. I want to remember this.” You nod at this, leading him slowly towards the bed. You climb onto the bed and lay onto your back, facing him.

“Let’s try this. I won’t touch you. But… you can touch me. All you want.” Your voice is heavy in the air. Jungkook stands there for a moment, taking it all in before deciding to inch closer. 

His knees sink into the mattress, making his presence even more overwhelming as his body hovers over your own. He nibbles his bottom lip, eyes darting all over your face, so you take the initiative once more, bringing your lips to his.

You’re leading in the kiss. Your mouth is wide open, tongue dancing with his, saliva dripping down his chin from the exchange. He’s inexperienced, but you don’t care. It’s sloppy and definitely not your best kiss. But the way he succumbs to your mouth leaves a pleasant sensation in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook pulls away, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and watery as you place your palm on his heart to feel how much it’s racing.

“Calm down, Jungkook, it’s just a kiss.” You say sweetly, but  tears fall anyway and he backs up sitting on the bed, his hands covering his eyes. Your concern grows at that point, unsure if you should carry on. 

“Baby, did I do something you don’t like? What’s wrong? Do you need a minute, or should we not continue?” You aren’t even sure why he started crying, but you both did have a lot to drink and it’s his first time.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m fine. I can continue, it's just-“ You shush him, raising your finger to his lips.

“I get it. If you want to continue, we can.” Jungkook nods. You look at his face and just wonder how someone can look that good, even whilst crying. 

You come closer to him, raising your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Can I touch you?” He nods, and you wipe at his tear stained cheek, his eyes a little red and eyelashes wet. He’s a fucking gorgeous crier.

He lost it. How the fuck did he fumble that bad? Truthfully, that wasn’t planned. He did not mean to cry. He should’ve held it in better but he couldn’t. You probably thought he was lame. The good part about it was the way you called him baby. Damn, he could get used to that.

He can’t give up. Not yet. You didn’t seem phased by the tears. He's still half hard, and with you he will have no problem getting it up again. He has to fuck you.

His hand reaches up, covering yours that remains on his cheek. He slowly lifts it, pushing you backwards onto the bed. He’s nervous, so fucking nervous. But he has to do this.

“There’s no rush,” You say softly, your hand trailing up his arm to somewhat calm him. He didn’t think he needed that, but it did put his heart at ease. 

His finger slips beneath the hem of your underwear, slowly pulling them down her legs to remove them. His warm hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs further apart for access. He brings his head closer to the warmth between your legs. His breathing is heavy, subtle looks at the way you stare at him, anticipating. 

Without a second thought, he dives in. He licks past your folds into the heat of your core. After just one taste, he can’t stop. He laps relentlessly, each moan from you motivating him to lick more, just to please you. He is addicted to the taste of you. All of it is so intensely satisfying, a sick thrill lighting within him. He’s always had dreams about you letting him do this. Having it happen is surreal. He needs to bask in this moment as long as he can. 

He trails his fingers up your thigh until he reaches your core, inserting two fingers. His tongue licks at your clit whilst his fingers dig deeper to reach your g-spot. He can tell his technique is sloppy at best, but it’s working, you’re squirming beneath him. Your moans are like music to his ears.

It isn’t enough though, he won’t stop until your coming undone. Until your juices saturate his face and fingers. Just so he can have the privilege of licking you clean.

You’re about to come, and hard. Jungkook leaves almost no time for you to breathe. You can do nothing but moan and squirm beneath his relentless tongue. When he inserted his fingers, you thought you might faint. The way he thrusts them in and out repeatedly causes you to gasp, and your walls clench around them. The way he licks at your clit makes you almost yell his name. 

Truth be told, you’ve never been eaten out before. The type of men you’ve been with usually refuse, prioritizing their pleasure over yours. You know Jungkook likes it, so you let him. You don’t even stop him when you're about to cum. You don’t think he’d stop anyway, his eyes trained solely on what’s in front of him. 

You buck your hips, thighs squeezing Jungkook’s head gently between them. Your legs fall limp, following your orgasm. Jungkook's head was still between your legs, licking up all of your juices.

 You came so easily and that had to have been the fastest it had ever happened. It’s hard to believe this is his first time. He must really like you. It was hard to not just lie there for a while, but Jungkook had no relief, so you take a moment before sitting up just as Jungkook pulls away. 

You hadn’t noticed until now the way his hair was damp against his forehead from sweat. His eyelids are heavy, chest heaving. Your eyes drag down to look at his boxers, glancing at the strain of his cock beneath his boxers. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips. You press your palm against his erection, feeling the sheer size of it beneath your palm. 

“I need to be in you...” He groans. You nod slowly. His words affect you instantly, and the heat rising between your legs makes it hard to control your breaths. 

Jungkook pulls down the hem of his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach. He grabs the condom from the bedside table, tearing it open with his teeth. A groan leaves his lips whilst applying it, allowing butterflies to return to your stomach. 

His fist wraps around the base of his cock, aligning it with your entrance, gently pushing his tip past your folds. 

A loud moan leaves your lips from the sensation. Jungkook takes this as a go-ahead, his cock stretching you out. Your walls are moist as they clench around his cock.

“I have to be dreaming,”  are the only words that come out of his mouth breathlessly. 

You fall back once his hips slam against your own from each thrust. Jungkook's pace is slow and methodical, savoring the feeling of your warmth wrapped around his cock. 

“____...” he groans, his eyes staring into your own. His thrusts are beginning to grow slower, shakier than before, proving just how quickly he’s getting to his high. 

His grip tightens on your hips. Finger digging roughly into your skin. He pulls you roughly against his cock, bottoming out and hitting you in just the right spot as his body jolts. You both come together, eyes closing whilst your heads fall back in sync. 

Jungkook moans your name loud enough for his neighbors to hear. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, pulling him close against you. His skin is flush against yours, sweat radiating from both of your bodies. Your legs drop to the bed and you take a moment to let yourself recuperate from two orgasms in one night.

He tugs his cock from you, letting it fall limp against his leg, the condom still securely on until he removes it. He tosses the used condom into a trash bin near the bed. His eyes land on your face. You look as though you’re sleeping, but he knows you're not. He still has a hard time registering that you’re really in front of him, that he was just inside of you, that he got to taste you, and put his lips all over your body. He got lucky tonight. Most definitely. He doesn’t want the night to end. 

He presses his palm against your lower stomach, trailing up to your chest. You flinch at the initial touch, but let him continue. He lets his hand rest there until he can feel the goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air of the room brushing against you. He stands up from the bed and turns off the light. He then grabs the duvet that had been discarded to the floor amidst the chaos, pulling it over the both of you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him before taking deep inhales of your scent. You smell good, he likes that, and he likes that you don’t fight back when he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. 

Fuck. He’s going to get hard again thinking like this. But he can’t help it. You keep adjusting to get comfortable and you're both naked against each other. He wants this to be his reality forever, not just from some lucky one night stand. He wants you to stay with him. He thinks you enjoyed it, judging by the way you moaned. He hopes you did, because that means this can happen again, or possibly be a regular thing. 

He can’t believe he lost his virginity to you, and that it was better than expected. It felt like floating in a dream, sharing a moment with you amongst the stars. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

It takes a while for Jungkook to fall asleep, but from your soft breaths and the warmth of your bodies against each other, he eventually does, and with you tucked away tightly in his arms. 

You wouldn’t have awoken if it hadn’t been for someone tugging on you. When you groan for the third time, you decide to open your eyes. You find yourself in his arms. The guy from last night, the one who is ridiculously attractive. His hair is messy and he’s softly snoring. You pull his arms from around your waist then sit up in the bed. You stretch your arms out then take a look around the room to find your clothes in a neat pile by the bed. You pull your legs over the edge of the bed, allowing your feet to feel the chill of the tile floor. You shiver a bit due to your nakedness, but waste no time standing to stretch the rest of your limbs. 

For some odd reason, you freeze when you begin to hear rustling in the bed, but thankfully it’s just Jungkook adjusting to no longer having something in his arms. You help yourself to a robe on the hook of the door instead of dressing yourself to leave. Honestly, you want to get to know this stranger more. Last night he was cute and interesting and you could really use something like that in your life, especially since your last relationship was so long ago.

You make your way out of the room, opening the door slowly enough so that no noise comes of it. You are on your way to raid his fridge, maybe make him some breakfast. Why not? The sex was great last night and he deserves an award. You stop dead in your tracks when you take note of the extra room you hadn’t noticed before as you make your way down the hallway to the kitchen. You truly aren’t a nosy person. Just curious. He also happened to have left the door cracked open,  which was basically begging you to open it.

Your hand rests on the door knob before finally you push open the door to see what’s inside of the room, and what you see leaves you in utter shock.

 Pictures, posters, even goddamn paintings cover the room, and they’re all of you. They decorate the walls, paint the ceiling and litter the floor. 

You are terrified, but your body moves on its own, inching deeper in the room to take a closer look ignoring the fight or flight instinct igniting inside your head.

You step in front of the closet, and to your dismay, it's full. Full of outfits from concerts you’ve worn, various items that had gone missing in your apartment and a familiar hoodie, stained with an unidentifiable liquid. Of course you remember that hoodie, the feeling of the scent, the strong arms that came with it. It’s the reason you halted activities for weeks, the whole reason you’ve been casted off to your bed unable to do anything except rot.

When you take a closer look at the pictures, they are all from afar, taken from a window with a high quality camera. It sends small tingles down your spine. All of your albums, merch, and collaborations are here, as well as various invasions of privacy. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel stupid, too. All the signs were pointing to this. The way he seemed obsessed with you had made you believe he just really liked you. You should’ve known better. 

You’re standing in your stalker’s apartment after having spent a night with him. A night where he made you feel the best you ever have been. But now you feel like you might be sick all over his floor. 

You need to get out. Your hands are shaking violently as you slowly back out of the room, your breathing growing heavier. You’re going to run out the front door as quickly as you can. Fuck your purse and phone and even your clothes; those are all replaceable. If Jungkook knows you found out, you have no clue what he will do. 

You feel yourself crash into something hard behind you. You slowly turn around, and your breath caches when you realize it’s Jungkook. He looks freshly awoken, and his eyes seem surprisingly soft. 

“So, you found out, huh?” He asks, his voice incredibly gentle, contrary to the room you’re standing in. 

“J-Jungkook, you…you a-“ Jungkook places a finger to your lips, hushing you, and you can’t help but flinch at the contact. 

“I love you, ___. Can’t you see? Do you remember me? When we first spoke, when you gave me a purpose. All these years, you have been my reason to live. Your beautiful voice, your eyes, your body… I love you so much. And you can see that this is just a token of my love, right?”

As Jungkook says this, he rounds you and wanders around the room as tears prick at your eyes. The exit is right behind you, but you need to wait for the right moment. 

“Look at this,” He rips a picture off the wall and observes it, “I took this after you released your second EP. You were so upset because a lot of people didn’t like it, so you stayed up all night and watched your favorite TV show. Look how cute you look in your pink pajamas.”

All the mysterious texts, the weird feeling that you were being watched in your home… it was him all along. And you walked right into his trap. 

“And this is the first signed album I ordered online. You signed mine with a heart. That was just for me, wasn’t it?” He turns to you, expecting an answer, but you can move. You feel frozen in fear. Jungkook smiles, reaching into the closet. 

“This is the first item I borrowed from you. It’s your-“ You don’t even let him finish before you spin around and sprint out of the door.

You distinctly remember the way around his apartment, so your heart thumps in your chest as your bare feet slide against the floor. You spot the front door ahead of you. You don’t even stop to see if Jungkook is following you. Your body is being carried by heaps of adrenaline. 

Your fingertips almost reach the front door before you feel hands grab onto your shoulders, and Jungkook pulls you against him. A scream escapes your mouth as he holds you in place, putting his hand over your mouth. You try not to think about how alluring his scent is as he leans down to speak into your ear. 

“I’m sorry, ___, but I have to do this. For us.”

Something thick and hard pricks your arm, and pain throbs through your body. Almost instantaneously, your brain begins to feel foggy. Jungkook lets you go, so you stumble towards the door, but you feel like you’re not in control of your body. It doesn’t listen to you as you grab at the doorknob. 

Your vision starts to blur, and you can hear Jungkook mumbling behind you, saying words you can’t understand. Your ears start ringing, and the last thing you feel is panic before you fall to the ground and everything goes black. 

Your eyes flutter open, and you groan, sitting up. You look around, feeling confused. Your head is pounding. You realize you’re on Jungkook’s couch, a blanket wrapped around your legs. 

“What happened?” You ask, noticing Jungkook crouching next to you, his eyebrows knitted in concern. 

“You passed out. I think you’re really hungover. What do you remember?” He asks. You rack your head for an answer to his question. 

“Well, I remember last night and waking up this morning in your bed, but I don’t remember much after that,” You admit, your memory feeling blurry. Jungkook’s lips press together as he rubs your shoulder. You look down, noticing a band aid on your arm.

“What’s this for?” You question, moving your arm and grunting in pain. 

“You fell on your arm. You were bleeding. I was so worried.”

You feel strange, like you’re out of it. And your arm doesn’t feel like you fell on it; it feels sore, like you got a shot. You internally shake your head. Here you are, trying to be suspicious when all Jungkook has done is take care of you. You offer him a smile and even press a kiss to his lips. 

I absolutely loved the writing style, and good lawd you should post the partttt twooooo!!

This is such a beautiful storyline and i would love to see some at school love action once they both are together. I want hobi to melt the ice😼 and embarrass her with back hugs and cheek kisses at school😭.

And the math teacher part? Fucking mouth watering. Who doesn’t love a ducking smart man?! I sure do! I also want to see more hobi teaching math! 🤤.

Also, the book gift part was simply lovely🥰. My heart just bursted with all the warmth it was feeling. AND WHO IS GONNA GET THE BETTER GRADES IN MIDTERM?!?? I SURE DO HOPE ITS HOBI.

GRAA, i dont do well with suspense!! WHEN IS THE NEXT PARTTTTT? (Asking with so much love for you💗💕)

Hi!!!

I can’t believe I’m just now seeing this.(sorry)

Thank you so much!! Honestly I’ve been brainstorming ways to reverse a lot of romance tropes.

I’m working on the next part along with some more fanfics it should be out soon I’ve just been a little busy.

Your support means a lot and i love that you care so deeply for my story enough to leave such amazing feedback for me it honestly warms my heart.

Part two should be out this month so look out for that along with some other fics of mine.

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:After you get lost in a winter storm in 1800s Romania, you wind up at a castle owned by the handsome Count Jimin. However, after you decide to stay, you realize that there are darker secrets to the castle beyond the black roses and stained windows.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):Fem!Reader x Vampire!Park Jimin

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄(𝐒):Fantasy, Supernatural

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Swearing, kissing, blood, vampiric feeding, mentions of sickness and death, brief mentions of religion, manipulative Jimin, compelling, Jungkook is used for his blood, not *super* historically accurate, loosely based on "Dracula", sexually explicit content: unprotected sex, body worship, soft dom Jimin

𝐖𝐂: 14.6k

𝐀/𝐍 : Here’s a fanfic for you for the spooky season! Please note this is loosely based off of Dracula, more so inspired by it. I like this one a lot- the pairing and world building is just chefs kiss. Hope you all enjoy, and happy Halloween!

The sharp wind blows through your hair, causing you to hold yourself tighter. You can’t tell where you are through the harsh winds. All you see around you are white hills and snow rushing past your vision at light speed, with the ever so distant view of mountains.

You aren’t even sure where you are. Not long ago, you and your mother fled England to Romania. Your small town had been overridden with disease, and after your sister and father died from it, you had no option but to leave. 

You two arrived three months ago in Romania after hearing of the prosperous state of the country. Unfamiliar with the land and language, you both struggled to find a job, resulting in the two of you living in the streets and begging for a living. It was hardly a life, barely just surviving, so your mother had resolved to travel South after hearing job opportunities. You two had packed up what little belongings you had left and were on your way.

However, a devastating storm hit, and you lost your mother. Now you’re wandering in some mountain valley, shivering, with nothing more than the clothes on your back. Your boots that you’ve had since forever are riddled with holes, causing snow to seep into your feet. You’re shivering uncontrollably, and you're sure you don’t have much time left like this.

You squint your eyes, searching for a cave or at least some kind of shelter, but all you can see for miles is white. You feel your legs start to give out, finally succumbing to the cold. So, this will be it. You will have lived a pathetic life, one of little meals and begging, one you led even before you left England. Your mother is likely dead, so no one will remember you. You’ll just be another gust of the wind.

However, before you collapse, you spot a difference amongst the blur of white. It is far away, tucked between a mountain, but it looks hopeful. Maybe it will be a house, a shack of some sort, one where you could rest and wait out the storm. With newfound hope, your gather up your wet dress and continue to trudge through the snow.

As you reach the house, you realize it is much bigger than you had initially realized. In fact, it is not a home, but a castle. Your eyes widen as you observe it’s grandeur. It looks crass against the pure white snow, made of darkened stone. Turrets stretch up into the sky, capped with snow. It is dotted with small windows that glow as if there is a fire inside.

Lined across the front are battlements that are dotted with various intimidating creatures like gargoyles that stare down at you. The building is so impressive your feel your breath taken away. You walk up to the pure black iron gate, pushing on it tentatively. To your surprise, it creaks open. Strange, no guards in sight.

As you continue your walk, you notice black roses that grow up through bushes, ones that crowd onto the stone sidewalk you are currently using. Curiosity getting the best of you, you lean down to pick one. You have never seen roses so dark yet beautiful before.

However, immediately after trying to pick one, it pricks your finger, so you bring your finger to your mouth to suck out the blood. After feeling the warmth of your blood, you’re reminded of how cold your are, so you continue your journey from the half dead garden to the footbridge that leads to large, double wooden doors. 

The wind still biting your entire body, you lift up the door knocker fashioned like a lion mid-roar, your hands shaky. You begin to knock, but upon the first one, it creaks open. Strange, you think, but you still push it open and step inside.

The warmth you experience after shutting the door feels so foreign that it almost hurts. You are welcome to a long, winding hallway. Small doors are dotted on each side, and at the end a large split staircase. Above the staircase is a stained glass window. It depicts a woman kneeling, picking a rose, not unlike you had done moments prior. The castle seems empty, devoid of life besides the torches that are lit and dancing, creating strange shadows that cause your heart rate to peak.

Upon viewing the thick, red carpet underneath your feet, you quickly take off your soaked shoes and throw them off to the side, delighting in the comfortable fabric that feels plush underneath your toes. You have never been in a place so expensive before, though when you were younger you dreamt that castles were bright and lively, not like this.

You observe the hallway more,cranking your neck up. Long, winding pillars join together to create beautiful, ornate arches all across the trim of the stone walls. More strange statues line the hallway, and a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The wind billows from the outside, bringing you back to your senses.

“Hello?” You call out, but your voice echoes with no reply. You bite your lip. From the outside, this castle looks huge. You assume that there could be a hundred people in here and you wouldn’t even know, so by that logic, they wouldn’t notice you there either. They are likely good folk and wouldn’t mind you warming up here for the night.

You take another couple of steps inside, hoping to find a bedroom of some sort. You hear the sound of a fireplace cracking, so your hurry to the sound. You find it’s coming from a large dining room. You see a large fire glowing in a black fireplace, and you find to it, dropping to your knees in front of it. You feel immense relief from the warmth it grants you, drying your wet hair and warming your cheeks. You rub your hands together delighting in the feeling of momentary comfort.

Your stomach grumbles when the smell of something delicious catches your nose. You rise and turn to the long dining table behind you only to realize it’s filled to the brim with food. Plates of roasted turkey and chicken, seasoned potatoes, red wine, bubbling gravy, thick soup, and foods you don’t even recognize crowd the table. Your stomach growls even louder, audibly this time. You don’t remember the last time you’ve eaten a full meal, and not just scraps of stale bread people throw you on the streets.

Surely, if there’s this much food, the residents here won’t realize if you take a plate. You pick up a delicate plate with small, intricate black flowers painted on. You’re sure the plate is worth more than your house as you fill your plate with turkey, gravy, jam, pumpkin bread, roasted carrots, and a raspberry pastry. You stuff your face so quickly, practically ravenous, before pouring yourself a tall glass of wine and finishing it in a few sips. Everything is so delicious and flavorful that anything else you’ve ever tasted now seems akin to ash.

After taking a few minutes to digest your meal, you feel yourself growing weary, so you exit the dining room to find a bedroom. For some strange reason, every other room in the hallway is locked, so you ascend the staircase on the right, the storm still raging outside.

There are no torches up here, so it is difficult to see. From what you can make out, this corridor seems much darker than the hallway you were just in, not only in lighting but in color as well. You feel uneasy, with the wind whistling outside and the hallway laid out in front of you that stretches into the darkness. You’ve heard stories from the town storyteller, bits of folklore that always leave you feeling nervous, and the situation you’re in never seems to end well from the stories you’ve heard.

To your luck, the door to your right is ever so slightly ajar. You step inside, letting it shut behind you. Laid out in front of you is a large bedroom. There is a huge bed, with so many silk blankets and pillows you aren’t sure if a mattress could possibly be underneath. There is a black dresser and a matching vanity, along with a blood red carpet underneath your feet. There is also a balcony, guarded by two glass doors and curtains that billow in the wind. The doors are open, so you rush to close them, shivering by the blast of wind you are hit with. You can’t believe you were out there in that in nothing more than a dress and boots. 

Out of curiosity, you open up the dresser. To your surprise, a large array of women’s clothes are arranged in front of you. Ruffled skirts, laced corsets, fancy heels and umbrellas, beautiful jewelry, all in different muted shades, primarily black, red and blue. You pick up a specific black skirt, feeling the fabric in your fingers. It feels so delicate that you’re afraid it will fall apart in your hands.You quickly let go of it, and instead pick up what seems to be a simple white nightgown.

Stripping off your wet clothes and leaving them to dry on the chair tucked into the vanity, you pull the nightgown over your head. Even though it looks simple, it feels like melted gold on your rough skin. You let your hair down, still damp but mostly dry, running it through a comb that was sitting on the vanity through it. You also don’t remember the last time you had properly taken care of yourself like this. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize yourself, for this flushed, and even pretty girl cannot be you.

Sleep catches up to you, so you climb into the plush bed, the mattress sinking underneath your body as you nestle into the pillows. You feel warm, and your belly is full. Whatever uneasy feeling you had before has now completely vanished. Your breathing begins to slow as your eyes flutter.

For a split second, you think you see a figure behind the white curtains, a tall man staring down at you, but after you blink, it’s gone. You’ve had a long day, you must be overly exhausted and you’re simply seeing things. Sleep comes easily to you as your eyes close for good.

When you awake, you briefly forget where and even who you are. It takes a few moments to recollect the events of last night, and you immediately shoot up, your hair ruffled. You feel very refreshed, this being the best sleep you have probably ever gotten. However, you remember your mother, and decide you must leave as soon as possible.

Outside, the weather has certainly calmed down. Sunshine glows inside your room, which fills you with happiness as you exit the comfort of the bed and to the chair where you laid your clothes from the night before on. However, to your dismay, they’re completely gone. Ah, so there are people here. And they know you’re here. You can’t decide if that is good or bad.

“Good morning, Miss,” You hear someone say from behind you. You whip your head around to be met with a woman standing by your door. Though she appears to be some sort of servant, with an apron and a bonnet wrapped around her hair, her clothes still seem to be new and her skin is clean. Whoever the master of this house is must be extremely wealthy for even their servants to be in good condition.

“Good morning,” You bow lightly, “I apologize for intruding. I’ll be on my way now.”

“No, please, stay for breakfast. Master would like to speak with you,” She says, and you feel your heart drop. This cannot be good; you ate their food and slept in their beds. Whatever the punishment may be awaiting, you will bear it and then leave to find your mother. 

“I suppose I can spare a minute. Do you know where my clothes are?” You ask, gesturing around. The woman smirks, as if you had said something funny.

“Oh, I came in earlier and collected them to wash them. I will give you clothing more suitable for this household. In the meantime, I ran you a bath just in that room,” She gestures to a door beside the window you hadn’t noticed before. You grow excited at the idea of a bath. You’ve never had one, simply rinsing off in rivers before. You’ve never even felt warm water before. You feel like a noble woman, being treated like this.

The woman, who introduces herself as Lisa, guides you into the room which turns out to be a lovely washroom. She helps you undress and step into the bath, and the warm water feels soothing and amazing around your calloused skin. You would fall asleep if it weren’t for Lisa washing you with soap, rubbing the dirt off. You hadn’t realized how dirty you had been. 

You insist you could do it yourself, but Lisa ignores you, drying you off and helping you into a robe after the bath. She leads you back into the room you had slept in and to the vanity, brushing your hair and even dusting your face with some makeup. You hardly recognize yourself as she pins your hair up into a bun. 

“What is the Master like?” You ask as Lisa digs through the dresser, putting together an outfit for you.

“You shall see. Do not be frightened, he is a good man,” She reassures you as she pulls undergarments and a petticoat over your body. 

Her statement calms you a bit as she ties a black corset to your chest, a matching ruffled skirt, a dark red bustle, and a red shawl to cover your shoulders. She also gives you black gloves and small heels that fit onto your feet perfectly. You glance at yourself in the mirror again. You really don’t look like yourself, and instead like one of the princesses you had seen back in England. A much drabber, more gothic version, of course. You almost consider asking Lisa why this castle is so devoid of color, but you bite your tongue. 

“Come, now, we don’t want to keep him waiting,” Lisa hurries you out of the room. You had assumed that during the daytime the castle would be much easier to observe, but you were wrong. In fact, it seems darker now, and you have to hold onto Lisa’s sleeve because you can’t see.

It seems as though all of the windows have been covered, even the beautiful stained glass one above the staircase, which is now covered by a red curtain, letting an unsettling red glow wash across the atmosphere. As Lisa helps you down the stairs, you feel yourself growing even more nervous. Who covers all the windows during the daytime? It might as well be night as you follow Lisa into the dining room.

It looks the same as it did last night, but with far more people. There are many torches lit in here, so you can make out what the room looks like. Hung on the walls are several intricate tapestries, some depicting beautiful landscapes and some being tragic stories. There is also a gorgeous chandelier, winding and weaving together, the black iron looking as though it is a dead tree in the middle of winter.

You can also observe how there are four guards, two on either side of the rooms, dressed in all metal armor. There are also four servants, standing in position around the table, and Lisa rushes to the empty spot, clasping her hands together and staring at her feet like the other four girls. All of the chairs are gone, besides two at either head at the table. One side is completely empty, while the other has three people, all staring at you with interest.

The first person you observe is most certainly the Master of the house. He is sitting at the table, his legs crossed and his hands intertwined, staring at you like you’re some kind of art piece at a museum. Your breath is almost taken away from how beautiful he is. Soft, delicate features that are harmonious in a way that is almost feminine, yet he is dripping with power, from the way he is dressed in expensive clothing to his posture. He is beautifully tanned, which you are surprised by since his castle is in the middle of Romania between a mountain. You thought that the Master of households was supposed to be old, not young and… gorgeous. 

Standing to his right is a tall man, and he must be second in command judging by his silk, dark green vest, tophat and long black overcoat. He has a wooden cane underneath his gloves, and he stands with a sort of authority that makes you nervous. 

To the left is a shorter man, and he looks to be younger than you are, maybe eighteen or nineteen at most. He wears a similar outfit to the man on the right, but without the cane and tophat, telling you he is of lower hierarchical level than the two men next to him. His wide eyes are the only ones in the room that are not on you, instead staring straight ahead as if he did anything else he would be punished. The most striking part of him, however, is how pale he is. He looks as though he is devoid of all color, in a way that makes him appear weak and unassuming. You wonder if that is by design or if he simply does not step outside all that often.

“Good morning, my Lady. Please, take a seat,” The man sitting at the table gestures to the empty seat on the other side of him. You are surprised that he speaks English like you do. In fact, everyone in this household seems to. Tentatively, you walk over and sit down, gulping as you do so. You hadn’t realized it, but the table is full of food like the night before. It smells delicious, and you have to clasp your hands together under the table to keep yourself from grabbing a plate and stuffing your face.

“I deeply apologize for taking your food and resting in your bed. See, I’m not from around here. I got lost in the storm and wound up here. Please accept my apology,” You bow your head, apologizing as deeply as you can muster. You don’t expect the man to start laughing.

“Oh, then that explains a lot! Please, do not apologize. We rarely get visitors here,” He waves to Lisa, “Get her a plate, dear.”

“And why is that?” You ask as Lisa hurries to fix you a plate of food. The amused look wipes off his face so quickly it practically gives you whiplash.

“There are legends surrounding my castle. See, plenty of people here in Transylvania believe that if you step foot in here, you may not leave, which is entirely untrue. It makes for little people to visit us, which you can expect gets quite boring,” He explains. Ah, so you’re in Transylvania. You’re far away from the town you and your mother were “living” in, then. You have heard that Transylvania is a superstitious place, so it doesn’t surprise you that there are legends surrounding this castle, especially considering how generally frightening it appears.

You begin eating, stuffing a piece of bacon in your mouth, and the man watches you closely. He taps a finger on the table, as if impatient.

“Well, when you seemingly live in a bat cave, I suppose that is unavoidable," You quip, taking a sip of the juice Lisa had poured you. The man laughs so loud that it echoes off of the walls, and the sheer power of it causes you to gulp.

“You’re funny. Why don’t you stay a while? We have plenty of rooms, food, and warmth,” he offers you. It sounds amazing, but you shake your head, to which his smile drops immediately.

“I lost my mother in the storm. I must find her, but thank you for the offer,” You say, taking a bite of a delicious blueberry pastry. The man clears his throat.

“My guards can do that for you,” He gestures to the four guards positioned around the dining room, “It isn’t proper for a lady to be trudging around outside. From the clothes you were wearing, I assume you were poor, correct? You and your mother can stay here.”

“And what do you get from this?” You question. He seems all too eager for you to stay here. Although it may be kind, it could also be malicious. The very nature of this dark castle makes you nervous. The man laughs again.

“Why, entertainment, of course! I only have one courtier,” He gestures to the pale man beside him who flinches, “and I’m growing bored.”

You have heard of courtiers before, and what they do, so your cheeks flush. They usually entertain the master or mistress of the house, and it isn't always innocent. You aren’t sure if you’re willing to give up your dignity for a warm bed to sleep in. 

“Oh, not that way. I just want someone to drink with, someone to chat with, give me a laugh or two. And it helps if they are beautiful, like you are. Come on. It’s an undeniable offer,” He tells you. You bite your lip. He’s right, you’d be a fool to give this up. You would live like a queen, and at the cost of what? Playing chess with this strange man? And your mother would love it, she’s been talking about grandeur since you were a child. 

You look up, and meet the gaze of the pale man, the other courtier. He meets your gaze for a split second before quickly looking away. It almost looked as if he was begging you to say no. Maybe you should say no. Is it a coincidence that the only courtier is the one that looks most traumatized? You internally shake your head. Sure, the master seems a bit manic, but you don’t want to return to your old life. The pale man is probably a little insane as well, staying isolated like this. You’d be a fool to say no.

“I accept, but I want someone to look for my mother immediately,” You request. The man sitting on your opposite side nods and snaps his finger to the closest guard.  

“Look for Lady…” He trails off, waiting for you to say your name. You smile slightly.

“___.”

“Look for her mother, please, Seokjin,” The guard nods and immediately runs out, “My name is Jimin. Count Jimin.”

You nod while smiling, pushing your plate back, feeling nicely full. You find it strange that you and him are the only ones eating breakfast. In fact, he’s not even eating. You barely made a dent in the food, you wonder where it will all go. 

“Well, since you are now an official member of the Court, let me introduce you to everyone. It’s small, but mighty indeed.” Jimin gets up and walks to your side. You take his arm as he takes you to the two guards to your side.

“This is Hoseok and Yoongi, they protect our stronghold, along with Taehyung over there and Seokjin who just left,” Jimin explains, and you shake their hands, just as your mother taught you to do with everyone.

“These are our servants, Jennie, Jisoo, Rosé, and Lisa. I assigned Lisa to be your personal maid,” He tells you. You shake their hands, to which they resist, but you insist upon it. Just because you have newfound wealth does not mean you will not treat everyone with respect. 

Jimin then leads you to the two men who are still standing next to the chair. The one with the top hat reaches his hand out, and you shake it. “Hello, my name is Namjoon. I am the Chancellor. I am very pleased to have a new addition to the household,” He smiles, notably keeping his lips shut. His gloves feel slick under your palms. With curiosity, you turn to the other courtier, who pointedly avoids your gaze as he takes your hand. You almost yelp at how cold his skin feels. He opens his mouth to speak, but Jimin interrupts.

“This is Jungkook. You’ll notice he doesn’t speak much,” Jimin says, the last sentence almost malicious. You smile at Jungkook, but he pretends not to notice as he looks away. Jimin pulls you to him, and you can’t help how your heart flutters. He is too charming for his own good. 

“Let us begin our daily activities. It will be fun, I promise, my Lady,” He tells you with a smirk.

Count Jimin is correct, for he begins the day by showing you around the castle. It is quite large, and carries the continuous theme of dark colors throughout the stone walls. Every single window is covered, so it is difficult to tell what the hour is. The castle is much too big for the eleven (now twelve, with you included) people that live in it, and you almost wonder how this came to be. Jimin eventually explains to you that he rules over this province of Transylvania. He tells you that it is not much, that the only civilization is his castle and a small town a few miles away, but it is beautiful and large due to the mountainous ranges and land. 

Your favorite part of the castle is the library. You began dreading that you’d eventually grow bored in such a big yet empty place, but you assume that the amount of books in the library could keep you busy for a lifetime. Throughout the entire tour, two guards and Jungkook follow the two of you at a distance, and Jimin has you attached to his arm the entire time. 

Eventually, he grants you freedom to do whatever you please, for he has unknown “duties” he must attend to. Lisa now trails you as you wander throughout the castle, trying to entertain yourself. You ask her if you’re allowed to go outside, to which she nods yes. You’re relieved, some fresh air would be good for your head.

Once outside, you have to squint your eyes to adjust them to the lighting. You hadn’t realized the extent to how dark it is inside the castle, but the natural lighting proves that to you. You begin to wander through the dark garden again, viewing the black roses more carefully. The view out here is gorgeous, mountains as far as you can see, and a biting chill yet nowhere near the extreme of last nights’ flutters through your hair. In the distance, beyond the mountain, you can observe a small town, which must have been the one that Jimin informed you about. You hope that your mother found her way there and is alright.

Even though Lisa doesn’t seem keen on being outside, she still follows you carefully as you continue to wander through the garden. You take the chance of you two being alone to ask some questions.

“Is it true that there are rarely any visitors here?” You ask, bending down to observe one particular rose bush closer. Lisa sighs from behind you.

“Yes, it is. My sisters and I were born here, and for the entirety of my life here, we have only encountered around a dozen of visitors, most who are just meant for a night of fun. Mostly everyone else was born and raised here, our jobs passed on my lineage,” Lisa explains. You look up at her.

“Why are people so scared of this place?” You ask, and she looks away, almost forlornly. 

“I-I’m not sure. Legends, folklore, all of it. I’ve always assumed that it is because of how dark the castle appears. It doesn’t set a good tone,” She tells you, but her voice is pitched, like she’s either lying or not telling the full truth. You raise a brow. You make a mental note to sneak off to the library sooner or later to see if there is anything to find in this place. 

“When did Jungkook arrive? Was he born here, or was he offered a job like me?” You ask.

“He arrived like you did, around a year ago. He was much like you, lost and poor, so the Count offered him a job here. He is kind like that. One must be very special for the Master to allow them to stay,” Lisa says, and you can’t help but feel a little egotistical after hearing that. 

“I see. And is there a reason that all of the windows in the entire castle save the one in my bedroom are covered?” You ask, standing up and brushing off your skirts. Lisa thins her lips before turning away.

“That is enough questions for today. Dinner will be soon, and the Count will expect you to be dressed accordingly.” Lisa forces you back upstairs and to your room, where she wipes all the makeup off your face and lets your hair down. You still have so many questions, like who prepares the food, what happens to it all, how the Count can afford such finery, and more, but you keep your lips shut as Lisa curls your hair with tongs she had set over the fire. 

Once she is done, she does your makeup again, this time much heavier and more dramatic. She then picks out another outfit for you, one of the same color scheme but much more grandiose, with more ruffles, a hat, accessories, larger heels, and even heels. You also notice how everyone, not just you only seem to wear dark colors. Maybe Jimin has sensitive eyes and doesn’t like bright colors. Yes, that seems very plausible, considering all the windows are covered during the day as well.

Lisa leads you outside, and you notice all of the curtains have been pulled back to reveal the night sky. Interestingly, the castle seems brighter now than it was during the daytime, considering that the moonlight offers some sort of glow. Strange, very strange. 

The dining room looks the same as it did during breakfast, except Seokjin is back now, and you immediately feel eager to ask if he found any news on your mother. You take a seat, and Lisa immediately begins filling a plate for you. 

“Did you enjoy your day?” Jimin asks. He is leaned back in his chair, and like your current outfit, his is much fancier than it was this morning. Even Namjoon has on a more intricate vest. However, you notice that Jungkook is wearing the same drab garments he had on this morning. You wonder why you seem to be receiving better treatment than him if you two are technically on the same level.

“I did,” You resolve, taking a bite of turkey and trying not to vocalize how amazing it is. Jimin watches you carefully. Once again, you notice that he isn’t eating. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” You ask. Jimin’s amused expression flickers for a split second, and you notice that everyone in the room turns to stare at him, gauging his reaction. Slowly, he leans forward, and without ever taking his eyes off of yours, he takes a bite of bread, chewing it slowly and deliberately. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask a few questions. How did you become the Count of this castle?” You ask, taking a sip of wine. Still holding the roll, he leans back once again, still observing you.

“I’ve been in control of this Castle ever since my father died. And he since his father, and so on. It has been in possession of my lineage for as long as the mountains arose.” “Okay, and why do you keep all the windows shuttered? And why is everything so… dark?” You ask, gesticulating around. The room grows eerily quiet.

“I prefer the darkness. Is that such a difference between the grand and shiny princes you have read in your storybooks?” He asks, and he sounds as if he is mocking you. You shake your head profusely, mostly because you do believe he is slightly mad and you don’t want to risk angering him. You turn to Seokjin.

“Did you find any news about my mother?” You ask, daintily wiping your mouth with a napkin. Seokjin shifts in his spot, only speaking when Count Jimin allows him to.

“I did. She is resting at the Hospital. She is suffering from an illness due to the cold, but she is in good care. You needn’t worry,” He reassures you. You thin your lips. The fact that she is sick worries you, but she’s getting the care that she needs. 

“When can I visit her?” You ask Jimin. Jimin cocks his head at you, as if curious.

“When your training period is over,” He concludes.

“And when will that be?”

“That depends on how well of a listener you are and how much you follow my rules, Miss ___,” He explains, and the way he says it almost causes you to feel uneasy. You nod slowly. You must obey if you want to see your mother, which you’re okay with. You will do whatever Count Jimin wants, and then take your mother to this castle where she will be fed and warm.

You spend the rest of the dinner listening to whatever Jimin is rambling about, and when you’re done, one of the servants named Jisoo rushes to your side to collect your plate. You try to refuse, feeling strange about having someone fuse over you, but she pulls on the plate anyway. 

“No, my Lady, I insist-” She begins, tugging the plate. However, due to the force, one of the knives you had eaten with falls off the plate and pierces your bare hand, since you had taken off your glove to eat. It is not a deep cut, but it draws blood nonetheless. You clamp your other hand over it to control the bleeding, swearing under your breath.

“Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry I didn’t mean to!” Jisoo stumbles over her words, sounding panicked.

“It was only an accident, don’t-” You look up at her, but it isn’t you she’s looking at. She seems to be staring in terror at Jimin. You follow her panicked gaze.

Jimin’s hands are gripping the table, so hard his knuckles turn white. His head is pointedly turned away so you can only see the shadowed side of his face. Namjoon also looks barely composed, and Jungkook seems to be staring at Jisoo as if he’s terrified for her. 

“Hoseok,Yoongi, take her to the dungeon. I will deal with her later,” He concludes, and Jisoo starts screaming as they grab her by the arms and drag her out of the room. Your eyebrows furrow. Sure, your hand is stinging, but this is all entirely too dramatic.You also don’t remember a dungeon being a part of the tour Jimin gave you earlier.

“It’s really all right, I-”

“Lisa! Take her to her room and clean that wretched blood off of her,” He bellows, standing up, still hiding his face from yours, “Jungkook, you’re coming with me.” Jungkook seems to be startled at the mention of his name. What the hell is going on? You can’t even think as Lisa drags you upstairs and to your room, using some of the bath water from this morning to wash off your hand and face.

“What just-”

“No questions right now. It’s been a long day, you must get to bed,” She whispers in a low voice, obviously distant and probably worried about her sister. You hope that Jisoo isn’t being punished too badly for such a simple mistake. Lisa quickly brushes through your hair and dresses you in a black nightgown before tucking you into bed and rushing out, all without a word. With confusion yet exhaustion heavy on your mind, you easily fall asleep.

When you awake, it is not yet daytime, yet still night. You shoot up in bed, dazed and slightly confused. You scan to see what woke you up. It was the balcony doors. Somehow, they had opened, and the breeze from the cold night had caused you to startle. You wrap a shawl Lisa must have placed at the foot of your bed around your body before rushing to the door and closing them. Strange, you could’ve sworn they were closed when you fell asleep.

You barely suppress a scream when you notice a large shadow dancing in the corner of your eye. You whip around, only to find that there is light dancing underneath your door. Although your mind advises you to not investigate, curiosity gets the better of you. You creep to your door and push it open.

“Jungkook?” You whisper. He jumps at the sound of your voice. You notice that he’s wearing a large black cloak, one that covers his entire body. He is holding a small candle, one that barely illuminates the space between you two. His hand instantly shoots up to his neck, as if protecting it from you. He looks paler and more weak than usual, which is significant.

“Lady ___? You should be sleeping,” He stumbles over his words. You press your eyebrows together. Why does he always seem so frightened? “I was sleeping. Why aren’t you?” You question. Jungkook immediately looks at his feet, as if wishing to disappear. 

“Jungkook, what aren’t you telling me?” You ask, trying to place a hand on his shoulder, but he dodges you. He gnaws on his lip before looking up at you, his eyes growing dark.

“You made a mistake when you said yes to staying here,” He says in a low voice before blowing out his candle and disappearing down the hallway.

“Did you receive adequate sleep last night? You seem tired,” Lisa states as she brushes through your hair, braiding it into a crown around your head. You blink wearily. The truth is, you couldn’t sleep after your interaction with Jungkook. His words looped in your head, and the weight of them frightened you. He seemed so serious. You kept telling yourself that he’s just crazy, but something about his tone made it seem like he was possibly being genuine. It causes you to remain uneasy. You also don’t like the connotation of his sentence; like you can’t go back now that you’ve said yes.

Lisa dresses you up in a black dress with a dark blue coat and matching gloves. You then follow her downstairs into the dining room. To your surprise, all seems the same as it has been, besides the absence of Jisoo, causing you to remember the incident from last night. You try to catch Jungkook’s eye, but he is pointedly annoying you. Today Count Jimin is dressed in a purple so dark it is almost black, now bearing a top hat similar to Namjoon’s. 

“Good morning, my Lady. I want to apologize for last night. Blood makes me weary,” He says, but his voice seems humorous as if he’s telling a joke. You don’t miss how Namjoon holds a gloved hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“What happened to Jisoo?” You ask as you sit down. Jimin’s humorous expression melts away. 

“You needn’t worry about a servant like her. She will be alright,” He tells you. You try to look at Jungkook again, but he is still avoiding your stare. You also note how all the windows are covered yet again. You know there is something strange happening in this castle, and you will get to the bottom of it.

Over the next several days, you follow a similar schedule. The days blur together, mostly containing cryptic conversations with Jimin and Lisa dolling you up for dinner. You constantly ask about your mother, and Seokjin always just tells you she’s still recovering. You find yourself growing even more weary as time persists. Sometimes you think that this life is extremely boring, and then lecture yourself. You have to remind yourself of your previous struggles.

You also find yourself thinking about Jimin often. Something about him is so alluring that you can’t help but look forward to your breakfast and dinners with him, he is mysterious yet whimsical all at the same time. It’s a strange feeling: you’re nearing your 21st birthday and you’ve never liked a boy before, but it’s exciting in ways you couldn’t ever imagine. Walking down the stairs before breakfast, wearing a new dress, and especially late at night, when the thoughts of him warm you in the coldness of the castle.

As charming as he is, you find him equally as mysterious. You’ve gathered a few facts about him and the castle: it is always protected from the sunlight during the daytime. Also, Jimin never eats with you unless you mention it specifically. And, perhaps most strangely, Jungkook, the person who seemingly spends the most time with Jimin, constantly looks the most agonized. However, you chalked him and that little comment he gave you the other night to insanity. This castle is making you feel a little claustrophobic, and you’ve hardly been here a week.

Today, you have big plans. You have a sneaking suspicion that Seokjin is lying to you about your mother by order of Jimin, so you intend to sneak out of the castle at some point so you can find your mother in the nearby town. You want to talk to her in person and see with your eyes that she is alive and recovering. 

Getting rid of Jimin won’t be a problem. In fact, he has just left you; always dragging Namjoon and Jungkook with him to do work, telling you to “do as you please”. You often have this recreational time, but the real problem is Lisa. She only leaves your side once you sleep at night, and you’re not even sure about that, since she’s always there when you awake.

You slowly make your way to your room, forming a plan in your head. You complain about being cold, so Lisa quickly drapes a black cloak around your body and hurries gloves onto your hands. Perfect, this shall be your disguise once you escape into town. You regret having to wear heels during your respite, but you can’t think of a way to convince Lisa to take them off and put on a pair of practical boots instead. Oh well, you’ll have to make do.

“Lisa, I am absolutely exhausted. Would you be a doll and bring me a tea tray, dear?” You ask politely, and her eyebrows raise. You seldom ask anything from her, but she nods and backs out of the room anyway. Once you hear her footsteps fade, as quietly and quickly as you can, you sprint down the stairs and out of the house.

Although it is the dead of winter, the ground is frozen yet clear of snow, granting you a clear path to run on. Your cloak billows behind you as you rush down the side of the mountain to the village below.

You slow down once you realize no one is following, but still remain with a quick step. You assume Jimin will send one of his guards after you, so you don’t have much time. You take a cobblestone path into the village, pulling your cloak over your head. 

The village feels familiar. Something about the mud that squishes underneath your feet, the smell of straw and horse feces, the chatter in the air reminds you of your old life. It’s comforting, being reminded that you aren’t living in some sort of dream back at the Count’s castle. 

You find yourself in what must be the town square, with plenty of shops, merchants yelling at bustling customers, and barely room to breathe since there are so many people. You’re glad there are a lot of people, you suspect that even with your cloak, you would stick out. Your silk dress and sparkling jewelry immediately forces you to stick out.

You scan the nearby shops and signs, but with your little knowledge of the local language having been in Rome for not long, you find yourself struggling. You decide to walk up to a merchant, a woman dressed in a brown frock and a white apron, ringing a bell and yelling unfamiliar words. Next to her is a large ragged tent, filled with displayed carpets of all different designs and colors.

“Excuse me, do you know where-” You begin, but she immediately shouts over you, pointing to her carpets. You can’t understand a word. She seems to be pointing at your necklace and then back at her carpets. You shake your head profusely, and when she lunges at you to grab the necklace, you immediately jump back into the crowd, letting the wave of people be your respite.

Your breathing quickened, you continue to push through the crowd, desperately searching for the hospital. You know you don’t have much time left, Jimin likely knows you are missing and has sent someone to come and find you. However, the sound of English words catch you off guard, and you are drawn to a small tent set up in front of an abandoned shop.

Sitting on the ground, surrounded by a pot filled with a couple of gold coins and various sorts of strange cards, is a woman. She is draped in fabrics you have never seen before, with such interesting patterns you can’t help but stare. Her arms are dressed in jewelry that reach past her shoulders, and a bandana that covers her black hair peppered with white. She seems older, wrinkles barely hidden by pounds of makeup.

She seems to be saying words to people passing by, but everyone ignores her, sometimes even kicking her attempts to grab her legs. You have seen psychics and storytellers before, but something about this woman draws you closer until you can hear what she’s saying. 

“...drained, of blood! All of them, dead and reaped of everything! Their blood, their soul! We mustn't ignore, for this is the work of those monsters, there, in the castle!” She spews erratically, pointing to where you had just ran from. Your eyebrows scrunched, you take a step closer. 

“Excuse me, did you say something about that castle?” You ask, stepping directly in front of her. Her aged blue eyes meet yours and they widen so quickly you are almost frightened. She leans forward on her knees, grabbing your wrists and pulling you to her, her jewelry jingling as she does so. 

“Yes, the killings! The drained bodies found in the forest- those monsters up there, they are to blame! Immortal, evil, bloodsuckers! They must be rebuked! They must-” You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back away from the woman. You flail, trying to get closer to her, trying to hear her words.

“You’re coming with me,” Yoongi says behind you, but you pay no mind to him.

“Monsters? Like what?” You ask, but she is still rambling.

“...undead! Awful, wretched things. We must save the people and kill them, kill them with light and-” That is the last you hear before you are dragged into the crowd, your head swimming with confusion and even a hint of fear. 

You feel your heart quicken as Yoongi opens the front doors, pushing you inside. To your surprise, the Count and his whole entourage is waiting for you in the main hallway. You can’t help but feel frightened after what that woman said, calling the people in this castle evil monsters. 

“I found her talking with the crazy town storyteller,” Yoongi mutters, leaving your side to take his position in the hallway. Today, Jimin wears a coat and vest so violet it’s piercing, even in the dark room. He leans on a cane, gazing at you in a way that is so stoic it makes you gulp. You feel as though you are a statue being observed. Jimin taps his cane on the floor, once, twice, before clearing his throat. He whips around, his tailcoat following.

“Lisa, dress her in something more comfortable and have her meet in my office promptly, please, thank you,” Is all he says before ascending the stairs. Your lips thin as Lisa steps next to you and begins to lead you up the stairs to your room. She stomps ahead, obviously upset. 

Once in your room, Lisa immediately begins to undress you, huffing as she does so. She reaches into your closet and pulls out a simple white nightdress.

“That was an awful decision. Not only did you disobey the Count, you tricked me. Do you know how much of a fool that made me feel, having to tell him I lost you?” She lectures, pulling the dress over your garments. You swallow heavily, immediately feeling guilty. You have grown close with Lisa, and you didn’t want to make her feel bad.

“My apologies, but I just had to check on my mother. You have a family, don’t you? You must understand,” You say. The second you mention family, Lisa halts, her body growing still. She clears her throat.

“You must get ready,” is all she whispers. 

Once you are dressed in not much more than a nightdress, a shawl, and slippers, Lisa lights a candle and leads you out of the hallway. It is nighttime now, and the moonlight casts shadows that dance in the candle light, causing you to shiver because of nothing that has to do with the cold. 

Lisa stops outside of Jimin’s office, almost looking as though she is at a funeral. This does nothing to calm your nerves as you take a deep breath and step inside.

You are always shooed away when Jimin escapes to his office, so you have never been here before. Of course, though, it is quite grand. Large portraits of men you don’t recognize, a marble fireplace and a bookshelf tall and filled with books you’d be pleased to read. Jimin sits at his cherry wood desk, his vest and overcoat gone, now dressed in plain black slacks and a ruffled white shirt. Behind him is a large window, and the moonlight illuminates him, causing to look almost from a different dimension. You can’t think of another word to describe him other than beautiful.

Jimin stands up, his gaze never leaving yours. His eyes are hooded, filled with desire, and suddenly you feel bare in your simple nightdress. 

“I was very disappointed when I discovered you had run away. I thought you liked it here,” He says, his voice low. He leans against the back of his desk and crosses his arms. This feels very intimate, and you don’t know how to feel about that yet. 

“I was worried about my mother. I am extremely grateful for everything you’ve done for me,” You whisper, looking down at your feet. You feel a cold finger on your chin as Jimin forces you to look up at him. You’ve never been this close to a man before, one that looks this otherworldly. He smells of the roses outside the castle, beautiful yet dark and inviting. You can’t help but want to get closer. 

“I understand, trust me, I do. I forgive you,” He tells you, and you’re forced to meet his stare that makes your knees want to buckle. 

“You do?” You ask, attempting to be enticing but feeling foolish instead. Still, Jimin moves yet closer, his eyes glimmering as if you were the most beautiful diamond in a jewelry shop. You don’t know what is happening, why he seems so desirable, but you welcome the feeling.

“Disliking you would be akin to holding a grudge against an angel. It is impossible, darling,” He whispers before closing the distance between your lips.

The second your mouths meet, it feels as though everything leading up to this moment finally makes sense. All your struggles, your doubts, your hardships- all worth it now, for this moment, where you finally feel complete. As though he was meant for you, and you him. Everything within you is now whole.

Jimin places a soft hand on the side of your head, deepening the kiss, and a small noise escapes your mouth as you allow him to. His other remains respectfully on your waist. You suddenly can’t get enough of him, and you hungrily kiss him back as if you’d die without him. And honestly, now, that feels truthful. 

“___,” he says your name that puts all the other ways it has been said to shame. You pull him back, not wanting to stop, not ever. Jimin turns you around and presses you against his desk, placing hands on either side of you, trapping you in. You don’t care, though. Your senses are filled with him, yet it doesn’t feel enough. He is like a drug to you.

“Tell me to stop. You have no idea what I am. Tell me I should stop,” He says against your neck, his breath lighting your skin on fire. 

“Don’t stop,” You reply, and he groans. His hand fits against your waist, and you can’t help but wish it was under the fabric of your dress. You wrap a leg around him, pulling him closer as he breaks off from your mouth to suck and bite on your neck. It feels like ecstasy.

That is, until you feel him biting a little too hard. Your eyebrows furrow. You try to look down to see what he’s doing, but he has you in such a tight grip you can’t move. Your mouth rounds as you feel something sharp poke your neck. A scream escapes, but you feel a piece of fabric shoved into your mouth to keep your sounds muffled.

A piercing pain shoots down your body, and you struggle, but Jimin is inhumanly strong. One hand is intertwined in your hair, pulling your head back, and the other is digging into your waist. Jimin is slouched over your body, his mouth latched onto your neck, and, holy shit… is he drinking your blood? Horror fills every part of your body. You’ve heard stories of bloodsucking monsters, whispered rumors in towns, ones that cannot be exposed to the sunlight, evil ones like the crazy woman in town square said, dangerous, immortal…

Vampires.

Upon this thought, you scream louder, but it is muffled. You can feel the blood leaving your body as Jimin grunts and grabs onto your body as if you are air and he is breathing it, desperate and satisfied. 

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting to do this since the second you stepped in this castle. You smelled so fucking good, and you’re so beautiful,” He whispers, barely intelligible. Your instincts are actively conflicting. Jimin is literally sucking the life out of you; you can feel it dripping down your neck, dyeing your nightgown red. However, you still feel… strangely relaxed around him, charmed, like being sung a lullaby by a murderer. 

“You taste so fucking good,” He says, his nails digging further into your skin. You feel your body begin to give up, a cold sweat breaking out on your body. The room around you begins to blur.

Still, though, you feel calm. His smell, his voice, his touch- it all makes it seem as though it will be okay. You will be okay. As long as you stay still, and let him become one with you. That is the last thought you have before everything goes black.

When you come to, you blink several times, feeling dizzy and confused. You don’t know where you are, and a soft light seeps into your vision nearby. Your entire body feels light as you sit up, your head spinning. You’re in Jimin’s office, laying on the floor on a soft carpet. 

Before you can gather your senses, everything from last night comes rushing back. Jimin’s hands on you, the feeling of your own blood leaving your body, how good it felt before he decided to rip into your neck. Panic fills your body, and your hand flies up to your neck. You can feel two small holes, and dried blood that stains your neck and your nightdress that was once white, now scarlet red. 

You need to get out of here. You feel as if you’re being ripped in two; one part of you wants to run away as far as you can, and the other wants to find Jimin to ask if he can do it all over again. The fear wins, and you push yourself up, almost falling over and having to grip Jimin’s desk to steady yourself. 

You stumble over to the door, trying to open the door, but it’s locked. You jiggle the doorknob, but it’s no use. You weakly bang on the door before your legs give out, exhausted and sick from loss of blood, crumbling to the floor. 

“I would save your energy. It will take a while for you to get your strength back, especially since that was your first time,” You hear a voice say. You suppress a yelp as a dark figure you hadn’t noticed emerges from the dark, stepping into your view. To your surprise, it’s Jungkook.

“What is he?” Is all you can ask. Jungkook sighs, leaning against the Count’s desk. He looks a bit stronger today, like some color returned to his face.

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard the rumors. The dead bodies drained of blood, why people avoid this castle, why it’s always dark in here. He is a-” “Vampire,” You finish for him, finally saying aloud the truth you’ve suspected for a while. Jungkook raises a brow. 

“Ah, so you did know. Yet you stayed. Interesting,” He says, crossing his arms. You try to sit up, but you’re still too weak to even move. 

“I can still leave. I did it before, I can do it again,” You reply, but Jungkook laughs as if you are a fool.

“You can try, but you will not succeed. Now that he’s tasted you, now that he knows your scent, you could move across the country but he would still find you and punish you for being disobedient,” He explains, and your body freezes up. More panic arises as you consider the depth of his words. Is it really true? Can you not leave?

“So, is he… immortal?” You ask, and the word feels strange on your tongue as if you’re not allowed to speak it. Jungkook thins his lips.

“Yes, he is. So is Namjoon. They both have been alive for a very long time, in this castle. The Count has had this routine for decades. Some innocent person winds up at the castle, and he offers them a job as a courtier, then he drains them of all their blood until they’re a shell of a person. Then the next one comes along, and he kills the old one. That’s all we are to him. Vessels for food, not people, not even beings. Well, maybe not for you,” His voice trails off, and you perk up. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, and Jungkook looks away, avoiding your gaze. 

“I’m not sure, but he thinks of you differently. When he fed on you, it wasn’t that painful, right? It probably almost felt nice, right?” He asks, and you nod, “that means he cares about you. I recognized it by the way he’s talked about you, treated you. It takes a lot of effort from him to make it not hurt. For me, it’s excruciating."

Once Jungkook tells you this, you finally realize that Jimin has been feeding on Jungkook for God knows how long. That explains so much; why he’s so closed off, how he constantly seems so drained of color and weak. He constantly has his life drained out of him, every single night, only to go to dinner and pretend nothing ever happened. Everything now makes sense, especially what he said to you all those nights ago. You are the “new” toy- and Jungkook’s time is running short.

“That means he’s-” “Going to kill me soon, yes, I know. It’s not really all that frightening, though. I assume death will be better than a life like this,” He tells you, and your heart practically breaks at this confession.

“There has to be another way. What about all the guards and maids? Surely they’re frightened of him as well,” You practically plead. Jungkook shakes his head.

“They’re all too loyal to him and Namjoon. The Count forces Namjoon to feed off of them instead of finding fresh blood, so they have some weird bond. Trust me, I’ve tried. It’s no use,” Jungkook sighs, staring pointedly at the ground. 

“Can’t we kill him? With the sunlight, or a wooden stake?” You ask, extracting knowledge from the stories you’ve heard. Jungkook gnaws on his lip.

“No. I think you underestimate how strong and smart he is. Plus, he is never alone, Namjoon is always by his side, and trying to fight two immortal beings is just a death wish,” Jungkook explains, his hand instinctively going to a scar on his arm, likely proof he has tried. He stares pointedly at the ground. You feel for him, not just because he is so young and practically on his death bed, but also because you will also be like him one day, just another person Jimin used and running low on time, even if he does care about you more than the others.

Wait…

“Jungkook, you said that Jimin cares more about me than the others, correct?” You ask, and Jungkook nods, “what if I could charm him? Get him to fall in love with me, draw him into the room, and expose him to sunlight or something of the sort?” Jungkook considers this for a few moments before his eyes widen and he perks up, looking hopeful for the first time since you’ve met him.

“Yes, that could work. That could really work! Do you think you could do that? Could you stomach pretending to love someone that evil?” He asks. You peer up at him. You nod.

However, what Jungkook doesn’t know is that you believe you are already well on the way to loving Jimin. This new fact you’ve learned about him doesn’t diminish that. The real question is, will you be able to deliver the task Jungkook has asked of you, or will you already be too far deep? Only time will tell. You hear the door knock.

“Miss ___,” You hear Lisa say, “The Count would like to see you.”

Lisa doesn’t say a word as she bathes you and dresses you for a day, braiding your hair and pinning it up. You feel kind of angry towards her. Not only is she aware of the torture Jungkook has been enduring, but she knew the same would happen to you and let it happen anyway.

You feel better, but still faint as you descend the stairs. Mostly, you feel frightened. You know what you have to do, and you know that it may not be as hard as you were portraying with Jungkook, but you are still entering a room with an ancient monster that could kill you any second he pleases.

You shiver as you enter the room.The table is set up for breakfast, and as usual, Jimin is seated in his chair with Jungkook and Jimin on either side, but something feels off. Jungkook meets your gaze before looking away. You take a seat. Your stomach grumbles, but you feel too nauseous to eat. Jimin watches you carefully, and suddenly the wrong memories pop in your head. You lecture yourself for fantasizing about how his lips felt on yours instead of reeling at how his teeth sunk into your skin.

“No screaming in fear? No running away? I have to say, I’m impressed. I sent Jungkook in to explain everything to you, but I had thought he would make me appear as a monster. It seems as though I don’t give him enough credit,” He jokes, and only Namjoon replies with a small chuckle. You pointedly look away.

“I do not mind,” You whisper, just loud enough for everyone to hear. You peek up to gauge Jimin’s reaction, and he looks mildly shocked, which is quite the feat- he always has a look of slight amusement on his face that never seems to fade. After a few seconds he melts into a smile, and he picks up a glass that is filled with a red liquid.

“Ah, perfect. It feels nice to be myself again, then. Of course, I had to save some blood from last night to enjoy this morning- I wouldn’t let the best blood I’ve ever tasted go to waste. A toast, to truth and new beginnings!” He raises the glass before gulping the blood- no, your blood- down, a satisfied smirk on his face. If you were nauseous before, you’re barely containing the last meal you ate now.

“What do you suppose he wants?” You ask as Lisa’s fingers work quickly to braid your hair in a crown around your head. Lisa simply shrugs. She hardly speaks to you anymore. 

It’s been a few months since you found out what Jimin is. Your life in the castle didn’t change much than it had been before. Much leisure time, constantly getting dolled up, entertaining Jimin. However, now, you live in fear. Fear of what could happen, fear of what your heart was beginning to do, what you were only pretending to: fall in love with Jimin. 

It is difficult, however, to get close to Jimin. He seems cautious of you, as if he’s afraid of what he is feeling. Every touch you try to send his way is rejected, every sultry gaze you shoot him ends in him looking away with flushed cheeks. You almost wonder if this is his first time loving someone, like you. 

However, today, he has asked to do something particularly romantic. A walk in the garden. You do not know how he will accomplish this, considering it’s daytime, but you won’t reject it. It seems as though your plan with Jungkook is moving much slower than it needs to. Jimin continues to feed off of him, likely trying to speed up how long he has so he can focus solely on you. You can’t shake the panic that Jungkook doesn’t have that long left.

Lisa leads you outside before stepping back in. You have noticed how she doesn’t leave your side after your escape to town. You wonder if she was punished like Jisoo for letting you out of her side. As angry as you’ve been at her lately, she has helped you since the beginning and you do not wish ill of her. 

You immediately spot Jimin. He is standing by the doors, wearing a maroon red coat and a matching tophat. His clothes cover his entire body, along with a red ribbon that conceals his neck. He also holds an umbrella, a black one with intricate designs. His face lights up once he notices you. It is springtime now, and in the light you can really appreciate his features, how everything seems so harmonious together. He holds out a gloved hand that you take as he helps you down the stairs.

“Although you look alluring in the darkness, I have to say, you look absolutely lovely in the daylight,” He admires. You hook your arm around his as he leads you down the stone pathway to the garden. 

“Thank you. I wish you came out with me here more often, I love the fresh air,” You reply, taking a deep breath and smiling. When you look over at Jimin, you notice he’s smiling at you.

“I do as well. You know, before I was turned, my parents had to beg me to come inside,” He chuckles, “it’s a shame I am practically forbidden from it now.” Jimin leads you down a small, mossy path through the garden, one you hadn’t noticed before. Although you escape out here often, it doesn’t get any less beautiful. The delicate, black petals that seemingly stretch on for miles, creating a field of night and stars right before your eyes.

“Do you mind if I ask how long you’ve been here?” You ask, gazing at the flowers. Jimin is silent for a beat before answering.

“If you’re asking about how long I’ve been alive, then 1638, in England. I was forced to leave, so I arrived in Transylvania around a century ago,"he explains. You try to control your face as best as you can. The idea that he is that old frightens you immensely. You can’t even imagine how much wisdom and strength he’s gained since then. 

“Why were you forced to leave?” “They hated me. Called me a monster, arrived at my home with pitchforks and torches, and killed everyone I loved. Forced me out,” He tells you, his voice heavy. You try not to feel sorry for him, but you can’t control it. 

“You didn’t deserve that. You have my sympathy,” You say, and Jimin stops. He looks into your eyes. He seems confused, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“I do deserve it, though. I am a monster. I’m evil. I do not understand why you’re not scared of me,” He says. You take his hands, looking up at him under your eyelashes in a way you know makes his heart flutter, judging by the way he slightly squeezes your hands.

“Because you are you. Despite who you are, what you’ve done, at the end of the day, I still look forward to dinner with you, laughing until my side hurts. Your… condition does not cause my love to waver,” You confess, and although you are simply faking, it feels more true than you were prepared for. Jimin’s eyes widen, his eyebrows raising. 

“Did you just say you love me?” He inquires, and you nod, a sweet and demure smile forming on your lips.

“And I will say it again. Count Jimin, I love you with all my heart,” You say again, grand and dramatic. He smiles with you, and it even feels as though his hands shake in your hold.

“I love you too,” He whispers back, pulling you in for a deep yet romantic kiss, his hand laying respectfully on your back. One of your legs perks up, and your stomach twists in a good way. Jimin breaks away too quickly, staring at you with adoration. 

“Pick a rose,” He says quietly. Although you are confused, you obey, bending down and picking a rose. It pricks your hand, and you gently grunt, standing up and handing him the rose. You feel a bead of blood slowly drip down your hand. 

Jimin’s eyes never leave yours as he slowly brings your hand to his face, taking your finger into his mouth. He gently sucks, and you feel adrenaline fill your body and barely suppress a noise. He slowly takes your finger out of his mouth, a string of saliva attached.

“Meet me in my bedroom tonight,” And with that, he leaves.

“It’s the perfect opportunity to do it,” Jungkook says as you check your appearance in the mirror for what feels like the 100th time. 

You bite your lip. He’s right- you don’t know what Jimin plans to do with you tonight, but you’re sure you’ll be alone with him, and it’s the perfect moment to finally do the task and kill him.

But you don’t know if you can do it. Jungkook told you about a power he has, called compelling. It can make humans feel emotions they don’t really have, which is why you felt so calm when he fed on you. You questioned for a bit if your feelings for him were artificial, but you know your own emotions. You know what you have for him is real.

And you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to face Jungkook if you can’t do it, but you don’t want to kill him either. 

Your hair cascades down your head in curls, your face lightly dusted in makeup and wearing a silk nightdress. You also made Lisa bathe you again and rub you with flowers so you smelled nice. Jungkook complimented you on how dedicated you are to this, but honestly, you didn’t even have the plan in mind while you were getting ready. 

“Look, ___,” Jungkook placed his hands on your shoulders, “I know it will be difficult, but you have to think of all the lives he has ruined with no sympathy.”

You nod, trying to convince yourself that this needs to happen. That Jimin needs to be dead, and you will be the one to do it. 

With a deep breath, you light a candle and exit the room. Lisa is outside, waiting. She offers you a stiff bow before leading you down the hallway.

Unsurprisingly, Jimin’s room has it’s own hallway. A large stained glass window covers one side of the wall, depicting a scene of a sheep’s neck being torn out by a lion. You cringe. You can’t help but wonder if you’re the sheep, walking into the lion’s den.

Lisa leaves you at the door, bowing again before curtly turning around to rush back down the hallway, leaving you alone. You take a deep breath before entering. 

You let the door gently shut behind you. Like his office, his bedroom is overly grand. A large, deep red bed with silk covers and pillows, with a sheer fabric attached to the bed up to the ceiling. A few paintings are hung around the room, especially a large one of Jimin himself. A large stone fireplace is set underneath a window that is covered with a curtain, a fire crackling inside. 

Jimin is sitting by the fire on a forest green chair, sipping from a glass with a red liquid inside- and you can probably guess what that liquid is. He is sitting with his legs crossed, a cane resting underneath one of his hands, sporting a white ruffled shirt and trousers. 

Upon seeing you, Jimin’s eyes rake over your body before standing up slowly, setting his cup down. You feel nervous, twiddling with your fingers. You still haven’t decided what to do. 

Jimin steps up to you, taken aback by your lude form, his eyes lingering on your low cut night gown.

His hand lifts to twirl his index finger around a loc of your hair slowly.

“You know, ever since that night I haven't been able to get your taste out of my mind,”  he says, bringing it to his nose, inhaling your scent deeply. 

“Delectable.” His voice is raspy, sending a small tingling sensation to your lower stomach, making you flinch. At this, Jimin's eyes narrow with an uncertain look, and you know he can tell something is at bay in your mind.

He untangles his finger from your hair, letting it drop to your head once more. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin questions, taking a step back to assess your face, concern laced in his voice.

You gulp before speaking, unsure on what to say, “I'm fine.” 

 You think back to you and Jungkook’s conversation. The weight on your shoulders is unbearable. You almost fall into Jimin's arms. You wish terribly for him to console you, hug you, and whisper gentle words to you.

“Come. sit…” He calls to you, gesturing to his freshly made bed. You follow him towards his bed, taking a seat beside him. His body angles towards you, his hand reaching up and resting on your neck. You tilt your head back, eyes closed,  allowing him easier access to drink from you. 

You know this is why he called you here, but you can’t help the little spark that fades within you, your hopes of something more dissipating as Jimin’s lips find their way to your neck, his sharp canines piercing your soft skin.

Jimin removes himself swiftly, not allowing himself to be consumed in the act. His eyes have now turned a dark crimson, and his lips are tinted with your blood. Lastly, he licks the spot, not leaving any to waste. 

“You’ve bewitched me, ____, I have completely fallen under your spell. I can no longer resist you. It's taken everything within me to stop myself,” He tells you, and suddenly that strange feeling you've come to know returns. You aren't lightheaded, but somehow it is still hard for you to process Jimin’s words.  

“Sir, please elaborate. I am in no means a witch.” Your eyes widen with questions.  

“____, I must kiss you,” He insists, as if already made up his mind. 

His lips find yours immediate, as if unable to stop himself. You can taste the iron in his mouth from your blood. You're caught off guard, but you let it happen anyway. You're going to let him devour you, and you would probably enjoy it- which is the scary part. You weaken beneath him, letting yourself go, your tongue moving with his. His hands grip your shoulders, holding you in place against him. He gently nips at the corner of your lip, proving his need for more.

Jimin's lips leave yours suddenly as you gasp for air. You can’t help the way your body misses the way his lips felt on your own. A sudden warmth spreads to your core, causing you to rub your thighs together with need.