#attss

He looked up at her, staring sharply at the way she pushed her chest out as she arched her back, looking down at him through her lashes. He knows she wants him to touch her, her body silently begging him to play with her breasts, but he grunts and places his hands on her waist instead. Only when he closes his eyes can he urge himself to finish, releasing into the condom as she cried out his name. He lets her ride out her orgasm, even though it makes him recoil as he begins to soften inside of her.

There’s a total of five words uttered after that, including the goodbye as he walks her to the door. He’s still naked, his half-lidded eyes are begging for rest. She lingers a little, shoots him a small smile as she rocks back and forth on her heels.

His tired eyes flicker over her face, down her body and then meets a pair of hopeful eyes. When he doesn’t move, his grip on the top of the door pushing forward to hide his nude body from her now, she relents and leaves. Jungkook feels half asleep when he shuffles back toward his bed, and he winces at the slight smell of sex amidst his sheets, but he’s too tired to give a fuck.

It doesn’t take long before he succumbs to slumber, even though it’s still early on in the evening. Even though he knows he has to respond to that work email and call back Jimin like he promised he would eight hours ago. Even though he absolutely hated falling sleep, because he almost always dreamt of you.

He dreamt of your smile, and the way it always seemed to reach your eyes when you laughed at his jokes. He dreamt of the way you paced the apartment, subconsciously reciting the words of your book aloud while you drink your morning coffee, offering to make him a cup when he shuffles out of his bedroom. Things that happened every day, he dreamt of them, but instead of the awkward exchanges, he would embrace you in his open arms and kiss your neck. He wasn’t sure yet what exactly it was about you that made him think of you so much, at first, he thought it was because you were roommates, but now he’s not so sure that was all there was to his emotions.

Jungkook wakes up in a cold sweat. He whines at the throbbing in his head, and his throat feels dry. He clears it, running a hand through his hair as he sits up. He feels dizzy, and if it weren’t pitch black in his room, he’d think it was spinning around him. When he swallows there’s an evident lump in his throat, groaning at the sharp pain that catches him off guard, he coughs, then wretches. Brilliant, that was attractive, he thinks to himself.

It’s been a while since he’s been sick like this, and he silently curses the universe for doing it while you were probably in the other room trying to study; he knows you usually stay up late after your shifts to get work done.

He drags himself out of his bed, his senses feel strange and unnatural, and he’s reaching his arms out when he walks toward the door, squinting in a feeble attempt to adjust his sight in the darkness. When he leaves his room, the corridor light flickers on and it he gasps, walks face first into the wall and falling on his ass.

Your toothbrush hangs from your mouth when your eyes widen, quick to drop to your knees to his aid. You grumble in a light-hearted scold when Jungkook moans in pain, pressing his lips together tightly as he grabs his forehead with both hands. Your hand hovers over the back of his head. He rocks back and forth as he hisses. You’re smiling, about to laugh when the sound of him quietly sniffling shifts your smile into a frown. You move back up onto your feet, the patter of your steps against the floorboards makes him look up at you as you disappear back into your room. You quickly toss your toothbrush into your sink before you hurry back to his side.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is quiet, comes out in a whisper, as you soothe your hand over his bare back; never mind the fact he’s only in his boxers, doesn’t even remember how he even got them back on. He avoids looking at you, turning away as he wipes frantically at the tears that fall down his reddened cheeks, shaking his head. You sigh, “Do you need a hug?”

“No,” he grumbles, voice shaky and slightly raspy with his previous sleep and his sore throat. His nasally tone doesn’t fool you, though.

“You’ve caught a cold,” you pout, your hand on his back moves to knead gently the back of his neck, he tenses at first and relaxes at the feeling of your fingers massaging at a tight spot “You do feel kinda warm.”

“M’fine.” He grumbles, and you tut at his nonchalance. Even when he feels sick, he tries to act tough. Even when you had assured him that he didn’t always have to be; you told him you were happy for him to be himself around you— that you weren’t going to judge him.

“Liar,” you crack a small smile, shuffling to the front of him to look at him properly, but he turns his face away from you. His jaw is tense, and you can see the slight trail on his face, tear-stained cheeks glistening under the artificial lighting. You catch his chin in your fingers, turning him to face you. He looks down, then up at you with his beady eyes.

There’s a sadness in them that you’d merely be guessing to pinpoint—a sadness that had always been there. At times he masks it better than others, but it’s there, and you can see it every time you look into his eyes. It’s not blatant by any means, and maybe if you didn’t care about him so much you would have hardly noticed it, ruled it off as bad moods or off days. But you know him; you know him and most of all you see him. He drags himself around so heavily in a way you’re all too familiar with, for what was our purpose in this life if to not see ourselves in others? It was gruelling to live through it all alone, and Jungkook tried to; you’d never seen brown eyes look so blue.

You knew better than to simply ask what was waning on him, because that was a loaded question— these were eyes with years’ worth of hurt behind them. Sometimes you find yourself wondering who or what had torn him down so much that has him constantly curled in on himself, always looking over his shoulder and chewing on his lip. He didn’t deserve to live with walls surrounding him. Your heart ached for him. Maybe in more ways than pity.

“I see you, you know?” You don’t get a chance to think against your words, letting your thoughts slip off your tongue. Jungkook hums, tilts his head and coughs when he so much as breathes wrong. You’re glad it deters the moment from spiralling into a conversation you’re uncertain about, but you’re not glad when he topples over and drops his forehead onto your shoulder. You stretch your arms over his broad back, because as it was so— he did want to be held.

But he only wanted it to be you.

“Whenever I’m sick, it helps me sleep when there’s someone next to me.” You trail off, staring through the open door and into the dark room he had come out of. Cold, empty— lonely. “You can stay in my room? Or I can stay in yours, I don’t mind.”

You sense the way he holds his breath, but he doesn’t move, not really. His fingers twitch against his lap. “You’ll get sick.”

You shrug, “It’ll be nice to have a break from the world if I do.”

Jungkook can’t figure out why that made him feel sad, but it doesn’t, and it makes everything feel heavier. Or maybe he, as he always was when he was sick or injured, was just overly emotionally and in need of gentle attention. Even at 26 Jungkook still felt like a child, and he knows he is going to hate himself for this the morning he wakes up feeling strong enough to walk on his own, but for now– “Can we go to your room?”

There’s a dim light illuminating your room, but even without that it’s brighter than his; the walls are white in comparison to the deep shade of grey that covers his, and your furniture is light to match. Your sheets are frilly and florally, but instead of poking fun at them like he typically would, he hums when you help him beneath the sheets. Something about them makes him feel at ease, his comfort is immensely thicker than when he’s tucked beneath his own. Maybe it’s because his currently smell like…well, fornication.

Or maybe it’s because they smell like you: soft iris and orange blossom. It was subtle, but comforting all the same. When you climb in beside him, you pull on the string to turn your lamp off, opening your laptop to reignite the light in the room. You sigh, eyes flickering over the screen as you scroll through what Jungkook learns to be a word document when he peaks over. “You’re not sleeping?” He asks, words muffled because the blankets are covering half of his face. Suddenly feeling cold.

“I will…just submitting an assignment.” You assure him, but you notice him shivering when you look over at him. You furrow your brows, touching the back of your hand to his forehead. He’s still scorching. “Are you cold, Kook?”

His teeth shattered, and he shuts his eyes, a weak laugh escaping him. “A bit, yeah.”

“Would you like me to fetch you some sweats?” You raise a brow, already throwing the blanket off your legs, walking around the bed toward the door.

“Yeah. Yeah, please.” He yawns, curling up beneath your sheets in attempts to warm himself up.

You come back with one the matching black pairs you often see him wearing around the apartment. He sits up, features scrunched up when the throbbing in his head intensifies from changing positions. “I brought you some ibuprofen, too.” You lay the clothes on his lap, handing him the two capsules and the glass of water in your hands. He downs them quick, head twitching at the strain in his throat. He’s still scorching thanks you sheepishly, placing the water on the nightstand as he pulls his sweats on his body. You hum happily when you lay back against your pillows, smiling up at the glowing stars on your ceiling, then at him. He still shakes slightly but he looked a lot more comfortable now. “I can go to the market tomorrow, get you those throat soothers.”

Jungkook nods, yawning again. He blinks his eyes open at you, and he looks content. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He croaks, blinking heavily.

You hush him, turning to face him, hands tucked beneath your cheek. “You should rest; I have a free day tomorrow and I can stay with you until you’re better, okay?”

His eyes close fully now, finally allowing himself to slip into a state of comfort. His slight smile reads as a silent thank you for the last time that night, right before he falls deep into his dreams once more. He hopes this time it’s real.

“I’ve never met anyone lead Jeon Jungkook on the way you do, girl” Jimin ‘s jaw unhinges after your recount of last night, currently walking through the aisles of the supermarket. You pretend not to notice the way Jimin is gawking at you like a mad man, instead you’re scanning the shelves to find the things you need. Well, the things he needs. “I have to say, I’m incredibly impressed by it.”

You snort at him, feigning nonchalance. You grab a value packet of throat soothing candies, picking up a small pot of vapour rub to inspect it; you hesitate a moment before grabbing the larger pot instead. Jimin watches you with knowing eyes. When you toss that in the trolley, you face his gaze and try your best not to crack under the intensity, he grips the side of your trolley, blocking your way as he awaits your explanation. “I don’t even know what you’re implying right now.”

“Oh, pack it the fuck up, Y/N.” He throws his head back and groans, and your face falls flat. “You are literally in the middle of buying a bunch of shit he probably doesn’t need just because he’s sick and a little bit pouty. You coddle him way too much”

You shrug, “Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

“I’d uber you a few tissues, maybe.”

“Not even a full box?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a real peach, you know that?” You send him a painfully fake smile that falls almost immediately, pushing by him to grip the front handle of your trolley, pushing it in a hurry down the aisle, rushing toward the checkout.

“I’ve known Jungkook longer than you Y/N, as unfortunate as that is,” he rolls his eyes, muttering the second half under his breath, “and I know that he’s spent the good half of the two years since you moved in trying not to fall in love with you.”

“That’s not true at all, you don’t even know anything.” You sneer, passive aggressively scanning the items in your cart and tossing them into a paper bag. “Not everyone is emotionally constipated like you are.”

He goes to argue but only manages to squeak at the harshness of your jab. “That was just rude.” He settles for, following you out the doors after you’ve paid. “Look, all I’m saying is you should put the guy out of his misery already. He’s damn near spiralling trying to decode your feelings.”

You hug the bag close to your chest, facing him before you make your way back to the apartment. You chew on your bottom lip, and suddenly guilt is tapping you on the shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything, it’s none of my business I know that, but at least tell him, yeah? Jungkook isn’t good with navigating his emotions like this.”

You stare at him for a moment, your features soft yet unreadable as they typically were. “I’ll see you around, Jimin.” You nod politely, looking both ways before you step into the parking lot. You can practically feel his eyes burning holes into your back, but you don’t bother looking over your shoulder to confirm that. You never really thought that you could be part of the reason why he always seemed so sullen when you were around; you had always assumed he was just a damaged guy, one that brought around girls to the apartment you shared like clockwork. He tried to do it when you weren’t home, he normally did, but there were times where you’d walk in and hear things you’d rather not be hearing coming from his bedroom. You’d lock yourself in your room, wait until you can hear him escort them out before you ever dared to leave it. You wouldn’t mention it to him, he wouldn’t apologise— it was quite the routine you had going on between you.

The apartment is dark when you step inside, huffing from the flight of stairs you had to climb to reach your floor. You kick the door closed with your foot, and you flinch at how loud it slams shut.

“Y/N?” He croaks out, still glued beneath the sheets of your bed.

“Yeah, it’s me.” You call back, setting the bag on the kitchen counter. You begin unpacking, tucking your hair behind your ears when you hear him shuffle into the room.

“You didn’t have to do all this, I’m fine.” He rasps, leaning against the wall to hide the fact the world is spinning to him.

You look over your shoulder with a raise of your brow, because just as you suspect, he’s as pale as a ghost. “You don’t look fine.” You chuckle when he shuts his eyes as he waddles toward the couch to lie down again.

You make him a warm medicated drink, carrying it one hand while carrying a bunch of different medications in the other. You toss them onto the coffee table in front of him, squatting to his level. “Here, it’s got painkillers in it, and it’s blackcurrant flavoured.” You hand him the hot mug, and he cracks open an eye to inspect the drink, the fruity scent only slightly pushing past his stuffy nose. He shuts his eyes again, tightens his arms that are crossed over his chest and shakes his head.

“I promise it doesn’t taste funny, Jungkook…” your tone is warning but light-hearted, and it makes him sigh. He sits up, wiping his palm over his face before takes the cup from you, bringing it to his lips.

“If I wanted medicine shoved down my throat I would have called my mother.” He snorts, the warm liquid feels soothing going down his throat; you were right, it didn’t taste funny at all. He continues to sip on his drink when you join his side, a deep sigh leaving your lips.

“It feels nostalgic having a head cold.” He admits out loud, though it’s a thought he doesn’t exactly mean to share. You made it easy though, to say things that didn’t seem important— you always seemed to make these thoughts matter. “It reminds me of being a kid, I think.”

“I see what you mean,” you nod, staring at the blank screen of the television. You can see the subtle reflection of you sitting beside him, and there’s a brief and fleeting thought that tells you how domestic it felt being next to him just to simply exist. You’re quick to shut down from letting it linger longer than necessary, though. “Jungkook?”

“Hm?” He sets down the drink and lays back the same way you do, but he doesn’t look at you. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and closes his eyes again.

“Do you ever feel lonely?” He doesn’t expect such a heavy question. It’s heavy behind his eyelids, a dull ache penetrating through his head when he tenses at your words. He might throw up. His chest tightens when he truly thinks about it, too; but when he decides to turn his head your way, your head is tilted slightly, and your expression is hard to read. You rest your cheek against your fist, turning your body to face him now.

Jungkook shrugs, “I have some solid friendships, a supportive family...” He parts his lips to finish a thought only to close them again. He doesn’t answer you directly, that’s okay, you kind of expected him to avoid the true meaning behind your question. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” You answer honestly, a tight-lipped smile attempts to hide your feelings. “All the time.”

He nods slow, his heavy eyes flickering over your facial features; he tried to read them, he tries his best but to no avail. He turns away from you before he starts thinking about how soft your lips look, or how your eyes tell. “You’re a good friend, Y/N.” He diverges from the topic before it can lead any further. “You know if you ever need it, I’m here for you.”

“I know.” You blink rapidly, pushing yourself off the couch and rush off to your bedroom. You hope he doesn’t notice your tears, you hope you got away fast enough for him to not see your emotions swimming aimlessly in your eyes. Maybe you wanted him to, you don’t know.

All you know is that thanks to Jimin, you’re thinking about things that have never even crossed your mind before today. There’s nothing you want more than to curl up in your sheets and doomscroll on TikTok, in hopes it calms the way your heart thumps tragically against your chest when you realise you’ve let him into your head for the first time.  

You’d done such a good job at pretending, so much so it’s taken you two years to really let yourself feel something other than friendship for your quiet roommate. Quiet, yet kind…and absolutely smitten with you. He hasn’t said so to you or anything, but the way he never said no to you, and looked at you so longingly; it wasn’t beyond you, you had just worked your hardest to ignore it. Not only because you needed a roommate, but because you had built a friendship with him that you couldn’t imagine going without.

Jungkook had turned up to work even though his nose was still blocked and his head heavy. He groans just about every time he picks up a box heavier than a cat and puffs out and breaks into a sweat a lot faster than he usually would. He’s opening a box, getting ready to count the contents before a familiar, when suddenly an agitating, grating startles him in the middle of his work.

“You look terrible, man.” He slowly falls backward, palms landing the short way down when he loses his balance from the squat he was in. He sighs, looking up at Jimin with a hard stare. “Welcome back.” He grins brightly, but it’s dripping with the sarcasm he’s all too used to with him.

“Didn’t wanna waste all my sick leave.” Jungkook mumbles, pushing himself up from the ground and lifting the box again, placing it at his desk to do the job instead. He brushes his hands against his trouser, that disgusting cold sweat transferring to the palms of his hands. He grimaces.

“I’m sure mommy took real good care of you, didn’t she?” He mocks, placing his hands on his shoulders to squeeze teasingly on them. Jungkook shrugs him off almost immediately. Jimin only snorts at the younger one, softly slapping the back of his head. “Get back to work, fuckin’ simp.”

Did he also mention that Jimin was also his supervisor?

Oh, he hadn’t? That was probably because he’d rather die than think about the fact. Jimin and Jungkook had been family friends since they were kids, but the little shit had followed him into his adulthood, even when he grew taller, and stronger, Jimin always remained his elder and that had an advantage in this world. Jimin was like a brother to him, which made it all the more annoying when he got promoted to work over Jungkook’s shoulder and monitor his standards. A joke, really.

Still, he slumps back into his desk’s chair and does as he’s told, but to his luck it doesn’t last very long. When his phone buzzes in his pocket he can’t help but pull it out on instinct, looking over his shoulder to see if Jimin was nearby, he’s not, before he unlocks his phone to open the message.

That was his roommate. The same roommate that offered to take care of him when he got sick just yesterday, the same roommate that made him dinner, cleaned his room when he wasn’t home, and cuddle up to him whenever you watched a movie together.

That was his roommate pretty much completely naked— how did Yuri have this? Why did she have this? Who was this meant for? So many questions are swimming in his mind, and he can’t help but feel a sense of rage begin to build up within his chest. His thumbs tap a little bit too hard against the screen of his phone when he replies.

Jungkook was not impartial to punching someone. In fact, he’d done it many times at a party when he got too drunk, or if some guy was being a little too gross towards a girl. But at his grown age at 27? He wasn’t impartial to that either if it meant protecting you. With too many thoughts swimming around in his already throbbing head, none of them pleasant in nature, he holds his breath clicks on the link that Yuri sends to him.

There’s the post, with the picture of you attached to a very unkind caption, no less: ‘bought this one for 50,000 won. thanks y/n x'

This motherfucker is so lucky that this was an anonymous post page. He damn near might have hunted him down and killed him he had the means. His anger is quickly followed by a feeling of dread when he thinks about how this would affect you. What if this affected your future, an entire career you’d worked tirelessly to reach? Why did you resort to this when you had options? Jungkook would have more than happily helped you search for a flexible job. Jungkook could’ve covered rent for a few months on his own if you were struggling.

God help the person that makes you cry.

He brings up your contact in his phone, thumbs hovering over the letters than he never taps. Instead, he locks his phone, shoves it into his pocket and hopes this hasn’t reached you just yet. There’s only an hour before his tea break. It was wishful thinking, but he held onto that hope either way. His fingers push into the keys on his keyboard louder and rougher than normal, and he slams things around on his desk, aiming to get as much work done as possible in hopes that he doesn’t get scolded for slacking off later.

He’d hate to know that you had seen it the moment you opened your phone. There are hundreds of messages in your notifications, but you click on the name you recognise first. A fee panicked messages, seven missed calls and a screenshot that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

What the fuck do you do when the one thing you needed to stay a secret is revealed to all the people you know and go to school with? You throw your phone across the room and pull your legs to your chest, your whimpers muffled when your forehead rests on your knees. This was a nightmare— one you can’t wake up from.

It’s noon when you hear the door open. You’re hovering in the kitchen, staring down into a bowl of ramen you’ve barely touched. Your eyes widen and snap in the direction of the door, revealing your roommate’s back as he enters and goes to close the door. He turns fast enough to watched you run into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You don’t even know if he’s seen it, or if he even knows about it; but if he weren’t suspecting there was something wrong before he definitely knows there is now.

Your chest rises and falls heavily in a panic, back pressed against the door as you hear him walk through the apartment, tossing his keys on the counter. “Y/N.”

Oh, shit. He knows! He’s seen it, and he’s about to kick you out after three peaceful years living together. You’ve ruined everything. He stops before your door, lifting a light knuckle to the wood. You still gasp. “Are you okay?” His voice is gentle, “Talk to me.” He tries, but you don’t relent.

Really? You scoff, opening your door to face him.  You look a mess; your hair is knotted, you hadn’t brushed it since you woke up. Your face is pale and there’s bags under your blood-shot eyes, your lips are swollen, and the tip of your nose is bright red. With a sniffle, you finally speak. “You were never meant to find out.” The tears threaten to spill again when you feel the familiar sting. “No one was.” Your voice cracks and he pulls you in for a hug you don’t expect. His hand runs softly over your back, holding you tightly to his chest. He hushes you when you break, crying like your world has just ended. It damn near may as well have. “I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

He stares into your room, at nothing in particular, just in thought. He wants to console, build you up and ask you why you didn’t tell him. He wouldn’t have judged you— he might feel a little jealous, sure, but he would never judge you. What hurts him more than anything is that he that you trusted him more than this, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah,” He whispers into your hair, selfishly relishing in the smell of your shampoo. You always smelt so nice. Your proximity was making it harder for him to ignore the way he feels about you. He thinks he’s done a good job thus far at not letting it slip to you. Little does he know that you already knew.

You knew it deep down, Jimin had only confirmed your suspicions; it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, and you cling to his shirt tighter. He closes his eyes, not worried that he’s well over his lunch break, ignoring the way his phone rings in his pocket. “Me too.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me most.

We sank out back to the mindscape, and i dont know why i didn't remember everything before, it was like some freaky mind control story. Anyways, we got into Logan's room which was where everyone was.

"what is HE doing here?!" Roman is begging to know, he honestly said it rudely, but i get it. "Hes... Hes with us now" Virgil is.. protecting me... "Yeah right!! He probably used his snake friend to poison your mind too. Re, get them OUT OF HERE." Roman's eyes are glowing green... That cant be go- wait hang on- why is his outfit black, thats not normal!! Is he okay?? I should say something, but im scared that'll make things worse... He's clearly more aggressive than usual, but... I mean i cant blame him, i hurt them all pretty badly. Mmm, i dont like this feeling, like i messed up, but worse? Its like i failed raising my children and ended up being a bad father instead of the protective guide dad... This is awful, i hate it.

Remus is walking towards me, why is he- oh right uhhh...... Do something, Patton!!! Think, think, think...... Wait- COOKIES!!!! Bam, I'm pulling out a big ol plate of all types of cookies they like

"cookies!! And we can watch some movies.. if- if you'd like..." Im trying to stay as calm as i can but Remus is pretty terrifying, especially when he's stained in blood. Im honestly kind of used to him being covered in blood, he likes blood, which is odd, and scary...

I can see Virgil isnt really in on the idea.. its not my fault i cant think well under pressure

Remus is reaching a hand to either my heart or the plate.. he is so ominous...

Okay thank god, he took a cookie.

Virgil, take his weapon please, thank you.

"can we please calm down and just Hang out angst free for once? And its me saying this, you know its too much when the embodiment of angst tells you it's too angsty" Virgil is right, this is too much

Roman is sighing.. maybe we did it...?

"okay" he agreed??? He agreed!!

Okay lets go pick a movie and have our little boys night (^v^)

I hope we could watch the SpongeBob movie.. its my favorite

Aww Roman and Virgil are sitting next to each other.. they're adorable...

Remus is uhh.. why is he sitting behind the couch? How is he gonna reach my cookies from th- omg he can do that??

He's using some green shiny magic to float cookies from the plate to him!!! Thats not fair >:T

But finally... Some calm time... :]

His soft chuckle makes you realise your entire body was tensing before, because you feel your shoulders loosen the moment it hits your ears. “Hello to you too, grumpy.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, bringing your legs up onto the couch to tuck beneath your weight. “I just got off the phone with my mum.”

Jungkook sucks a breath between his teeth. “Tragic.” It elicits the smallest giggle from your lips, and he lights up at the sound. You don’t see the way he grins from ear to ear; it would have probably made your heart swell if you had. “I’m taking you out tonight.” He suddenly says, smacking a hand onto his knee, swaying back and forth in his chair.

“What? No. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re quick to shut the idea down. You don’t even know what he has planned, but you could only assume it meant facing friends and familiar faces.

“Y/N, nobody hates you. They just want to know if you’re okay. Come on, it’ll be good for you. You’re usually begging for us all to spend time together.”

It’s true, you missed them. Even though you ignore their texts and calls, too frightened to open them to see what they have to say about everything. Your sanity is fragile, and you don’t know if you can handle it, you think. “They won’t look at me the same.”

“I don’t look at you any differently.” A lie.

How could he not see you differently? How could he not when he thought he knew you through and through? It was only fair when you had told him you worked at the grocery store doing night stock. Where were you going to take all these pictures? A motel? You had gone through those lengths just to make ends meet? He doesn’t let it fester in his mind any longer, because if he was actually going to be honest with you, those images weigh on his mind more often than he’d like to admit. But honesty isn’t what you needed right now.

It would have been more truthful if he had told you that he didn’t feel any differently about you. He bites his tongue, though. “You’re still you, Y/N.”

He pulls his phone away from his ear when he doesn’t hear anything in return. The call is ongoing, but when he hears the smallest sniffle ring through the silence. “Don’t cry, dove.” He sighs, and you whimper, your words struggling to leave your lips when you know they will crack and wobble. You were so ashamed. “When I get back, we’re going to wash up, and I’m gonna help you pick what to wear. Then we’re gonna drive to the restaurant, and I’ll be sitting beside you all night.”

You still don’t answer, your sad sounds increase when in his reassurance. A quiet sob makes the frown on his face lower even more. Jungkook bites on his bottom lip. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You whisper, inhaling shakily. His lips twitch upwards, but he can’t bring it in him to smile completely. He wishes he could make you smile.

“Jungkook?” Your voice is quiet and small, twisting the metaphorical knife further.

“Hm?” He hums, pressing his lip together tightly. There’s a sudden lump in his throat that he fights to swallow back down.

“You lied before,” you accuse, and Jungkook slumps back into his chair, lips parting to question you but you’re too quick to finish your thought. “I see the way you look at me.”

A dozen thoughts plague his thoughts, the weight of your words raising questions within himself to decode them. What exactly do you mean by that? His heart races. He’s never confessed to you because the timing was just never right; he still wasn’t sure if it was worth the thought of losing you because of his own selfish feelings. He’d rather live loving you from a distance than you lose you altogether, because the fact of the matter was that you cared for him so loudly, so much more genuinely than other people in his life did.

But that’s just you— you were too kind for your own good. A giver.

“How’s that, dove?”

“You look at me like you don’t even know who I am,” you squeeze the words out, unable to hold back your feelings, “You pity me.”

Jungkook exhales, shutting his eyes. “Y/N…” You can’t help but think he sounds exhausted, “I would never pity you.”

But you’re tired of me. Is what you want to say, you can hear it in his voice, it’s low and quiet and he’s said the words to you one too many times in the span of a week. You pull your brows together, “Then why are you helping me?” You raise your voice, and he opens his eyes again, staring at the empty excel spreadsheet on his computer screen.

“You’re my girl, Y/N.” Once again, he just lets the words fall from his lips, speaks before he thinks. “Look, I have to go but I’ll see you when I get home, okay?” He ends the call when your quiet goodbye sounds through his phone. He tosses it onto his desk, stares at it for a moment. The next three hours were going to be gruellingly long, he thinks.

You were right about this being extremely uncomfortable.

When you and Jungkook arrive, you freeze by the door when you catch a glimpse of your friends at the table, they’re chatting loudly and laughing as if things were normal. Jungkook only takes a few more steps before he looks over his shoulder at you, clicking his tongue. His hands raise to your shoulders, thumbs soothing against your skin gingerly.

From the table Jimin is looking over at you and Jungkook, he can’t help but feel guilty about the sudden decline in your typical personality. You had always been the one to reassure others, to lift them up in times of darkness. Even when Jimin insulted you, you would shrug and tell him if taking it out on you was going to help him relieve stress, then you didn’t mind. He never really took into consideration the weight of that. Your friends wanted to be there for, they did, but they didn’t know how. You didn’t expect them to know how. That was just part of your character, it was both a strength and a weakness.

Jimin wishes you bit back a little more, when the boundaries have been overstepped, when something makes you feel a little bit uncomfortable. He’s been thinking a lot about how much baggage you carry on your shoulders, not just from the people around you but some of your own, too.

Truthfully, he had been too blind seeing you as the girl that didn’t reciprocate the feelings that Jungkook’s had for you. Even when you wiped at the corners of his mouth when he ate so messily or hugged him just as tightly even when he approached you with faux tears. He was so convinced you were stringing him along, that you had some ulterior motive or thrived of his attention. He had always been especially protective of his youngest friend, sensitive and stoic all in the same rippling, intimidating build. Tattoos, piercings and muscles on the outside but a head filled with hard-to-hide emotions on the inside.

He can see it in the way you’re looking up at him now. Teary eyed with a quivering bottom lip, he understands you a little more now. You didn’t even know it; he was your safe space, the light in the darkness— your home. Even when it was blatantly obvious to everyone else in the room.

You had spent so much time being overbearing with Jungkook, wishing that he wouldn’t feel pain, that the moment your life crumbled you had wanted to run straight into his arms. You were regurgitating your feeling in actions that you didn’t even realise what they meant to him, and for that Jimin gets it now, realises that you’re the one who is damaged. You are for Jungkook what you wish someone would be for you.  

Jimin rejoins his focus to the conversation at the table, now hushed and low when you and Jungkook slowly make your way to the table.  

“–should collectively agree to not bring anything weird up to Y/N.”

Jimin takes a breath, is about to reply but the two of you are already at the table. Jungkook smiles and greets the table, even when he notices the pointed glare Taehyung gives Namjoon, Taehyung because he might have said that loud enough for you to hear. You heard.

You look like a newborn deer, your steps are shaky, and your fingers cling tightly onto the strap of your bag like it was the only thing keep you stable. You’re looking up at Jungkook for reassurance, unable to meet the gazes of the friends you haven’t seen since the incident.

Jia stands up and greets you with a hug. Jungkook removes his hand from your lower back, taking a seat next to Taehyung and patting him on the back. Jimin’s still looking at you, the way your smile is forced as you return her hug with an awkward one-handed one. Jia grins widely at you, tells her she misses you and you nod and tell her the same. She pushes your strands over your shoulders as she compliments you, suffocating you with kindness disguised with curiosities about you. Jia being one of your closest friends, the entire interaction looks estranged. You’re still trying to appease. Jimin sighs and turns away.

You slump down into the seat next to Jungkook. Your eyes flicker over to him, but he’s distracted by everyone else, slipping into conversation with ease. Hanna and Jia are chatting, and when you make eye contact with the girls sat across from you, you smile in hopes to insert yourself in their own conversation, but it causes them to stop talking and smile back at you only.

You look down at your lap defeatedly with slumped shoulders as your leg begins to bounce, your palms rub up and down your thighs nervously. Jungkook still doesn’t look at you, but his hand pats and rests against your knee to stop the movement. Your eyes are big and a little bit glassy as they scan the room, searching for solace when your phone buzzes in your bag. You reach for it, bent over your device as your scroll through the unopened notifications on your home screen. Your hair curtains over you, and your breath hitches in your throat when you come across a message from the very app you’ve tried to avoid for the past week.

Your thumb hovers over the notification.

You’ve got an offer!

You peer up from your phone to make sure no one is paying attention to you. When you look back down at your phone, it’s only convenient that it’s Jimin that turns his head to check on you again. Your thumb taps against it. He narrows his stare at you.

You were going to stop doing this, you told yourself that the moment your photos were leaked. You wouldn’t humiliate your friends, or yourself, any further. You’d look for a night job that wasn’t risky.

From Anonymous:

Amount - $600

Request – Can I get a picture of your hand in your panties, princess? Add another photo of the wet patch on your panties too please, gorgeous.

Nobody has offered you this much money before.

You blink down at your phone, reading over all the words over and over again until your head begins to spin. Then you’re slipping Jungkook’s hand off your leg to rise from your seat, quietly excusing yourself to the bathroom. The talking slows, glances bouncing between you and each other; Jungkook looks at you with a slight frown, only just catching the way Jimin’s stare follows you around the table before he makes eye contact with him. Jimin raises his brow at him, the slight nod in your direction causing Jungkook to act.

“I’m gonna go check on her.” He smiles politely, which only intensifies the tension further.

“You guys could include her, you know?” Jimin cocks his head at the girls who look concerned. “Instead of clinging to each other like a couple of mean girls.”

They don’t beat the allegations when they look at each other. “We don’t know what to say to her.” Jia shrugs, chewing on her bottom lip as her brows lower. “She like, kept this from us without thinking about how this could affect others, you know?”

“You’re worried about your reputation?” He fires back, looking to Taehyung and Namjoon with disbelief. Namjoon slips quietly on his drink and Taehyung sinks into his seat. “I can’t believe you guys, you’ve been friends with her for so long, and you’re worried about how this is going to affect your lives?”

Hanna’s shoulder rise to her ears sheepishly, “I think it was a little irresponsible of her to resort to sex work without weighing out her options first.”

Jimin can feel the fire rising up his throat, ready to defend you. He just couldn’t believe what he was hearing; these people, that you’d bend over backwards to protect, have kicked you to the curb the moment things got messy. Was this why you felt like you had to do more? For their validation? Did they ever really like you?

“Why do you even care Jimin? You’re not even close.” Jia questions, folding her arms over her chest. “We never said we don’t still care for her, either— you’re acting like we just told you we hate her or something.”

“You may as well have.” He mutters under his bread with a roll of his eyes. Silence plagues the table louder than ever before.

Your heart races as you lock the cubicle behind you, pressing your back against it. Your fingers shake as you unlock your phone to open the app again, reading over your request one last time. You swallow thickly, resting your head against the door, slowing your breaths to calm your nerves. You had done this many times before, but things were different when everyone outside had known about it now. You lift a shaky hand, fingers ghosting over your neck as you begin to drag your touch down. Your palm pushes and grips gently at your breasts, and your breaths shake in the same way your hands had been. Your feet shuffle slightly, parting your legs when your fingers fiddle with the zipper of your shorts. You pull drag it down slowly, face contorted and scrunched as your cup your own heat. You whimper, pushing your lips together to bite back a sob.  

Jungkook is pacing in front of the women’s restroom. Two minutes go by, then five, then ten when he officially begins to worry. Multiple others have come and went in that span of time, giving him strange looks. He looks over his shoulder at the table and watches at Jia and Hanna make their leave, then he notes the time on his phone to read 7:45. He taps the call button and pulls the phone to his ear with a huff.

You sniffle, wiping at your cheeks as you pull your shorts back up your legs. You flush the toilet even though the lid is shut and you haven’t even used it, walking out to wash your hands. You look up at your reflection, your mascara is a little bit smudged, and your face is hot. Your lids feel heavy and the beating in your chest feels heavier than before. You don’t even register your phone is ring, letting it buzz in your bag as you walk out with wobbling legs. You nearly walk into Jungkook’s chest, looking down at your shoes when you come out.

“Y/N,” he sighs, “Are you okay?” You can hear the worry in his tone, but it only makes that familiar feeling of shame bubble up within your chest. You look up at him slowly, your lids feel heavy, and you try to ignore the way your wetness sticks to your panties, how you didn’t finish and how much you’re throbbing with the need to.

“Can–” your throat feels dry, your voice crackles, “Could you just take me home?”

Jungkook nods almost immediately, “Everyone’s just about to leave anyway,” You hum, looking over at the table. Three boys are staring, averting their gazes when you’ve caught them.

“Where’d Jia and Hanna go?” You wonder, straightening your posture, attempting to ignore the heaviness you feel in your legs. Jungkook pretends not to notice how tense you are. He clears his throat.

“They, uh— they left.”

You nod slowly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.” You whisper, and Jungkook looks at you apologetically, though you don’t look at him again. Not as you say goodbye to those who remain at the table, not as he leads you out of the restaurant. You keep your temple pressed against the window as he drives the two of you home in silence.

You curl up on the couch that evening, channel surfing through the late-night shows and throwback television movies that only your parents would have seen before, maybe even your grandparents. You click your tongue when you can’t settle, so you turn it off altogether, falling on your side into the cushions when Jungkook walks in, rubbing a towel against his wet hair. “Nothing good?” He asks, and you groan in response. He walks around the coffee table to squeeze into the spot next to you, lifting your legs slightly and resting them against his lap when he sits. You try to push down the flutter you feel when his fingers wrap around one of your ankles, the way his fingers twitch down to the tops of your feet, squeezing them lightly with a crooked smile on his face. He tilts his head, “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I thought it would fix things a little.”

You shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

Jungkook hums in agreeance. “I’m still here, though.” He reminds you, and you can’t fight the smile that breaks through your pouting lips, its tight and it makes your cheeks look pinchable. Jungkook laughs, he squeezes your ankle again, leaning back into the couch. “Jimin worries for you too, you know?”

You don’t mean for your snort to be as loud as it was, it makes Jungkook raise his brow, a grin growing in amusement. You hide your face in your hands, “Jimin is Jimin, he doesn’t know anything.” You mumble into your palms, and Jungkook rolls his eyes, leaning over to pull your hands away. “Nothing serious ever leaves that man’s mouth.”

“It’s how he shows love, and I think you know that.” He leans back again, head resting atop the edge of the back of the couch, eyes shut. You blink at him, allowing yourself to take in the sight of him while he isn’t looking; his jaw is clenching and unclenching, there’s a dent between his brows and the way his chest rises and falls with every slow breath he takes makes your mind wander to a place it never has before. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and your thighs rub together, just a little, and your panties still feel sticky, and you’re only reminded when they tighten against you from your slight movement. That awful sickly feeling in your stomach from before returns, and you have half a mind to pull your legs away from him.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice comes out shakier than you intend. He tilts his head toward you, eyes blinking open to reveal the tired orbs, slightly red around a soft, deep brown that was easy to get lost within. They scan you; you look off— you’re sinking into the couch; your breaths are short and staggering. His pupils blow out, but he doesn’t react in other way.

“Why didn’t you come to me, dove?” His voice is raspy, low; he must’ve been half asleep before you called for his attention again.

“What do you mean?” You sit up now, this time you do pull your legs away from his lap and you pull them into your chest, resting your chin on your knees. Jungkook shivers from the loss of your warmth.

“If you needed money, or a job, I could’ve helped you.”

His expression is flat, but his eyes speak all the emotions he feels in the moment all at once. He blinks at you with big eyes, awaiting your response. You breathe in sharply, shutting your lips, looking away then back at him. You blink away tears. “I didn’t want to bother you.” Your voice breaks, but you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut to blink away your sadness. “I don’t like dragging people down.”

“Dove…” He sighs, “You should know by now that there’s nothing you can do that will make you bothersome to me.”  

“Why is that Jungkook?” You question comes out a little harsher than you want it to. You can see his lips twitch downward, but he catches it before he can make it known. “Why is it that nearly everyone has had something to say about my choices, but you have had nothing to say at all?”

He stares at you, huffing out an amusement breath. He runs a hand through his hair, and it curtains above his eyes again. “Okay.” He nods, his lips pressed tightly together. “I don’t like that you’re selling your body to strangers.”

“How long have you been doing it, Y/N?” He slaps his hands against his knees, looking down only to meet your shocked expression with a sterner look. “Hm?”

“I-I don’t know,” You look down at your fingers, shrugging timidly, “Six– seven months?” He doesn’t break his eyes away from yours, and you feel small under his gaze. He shifts his weight forward, his elbows resting on his knees now, clasping his hands together. “I knew it,” you grow meeker with every word, “I knew you were mad at me.”

“Not mad,” he furrows his brow, “I just, I don’t like it. I don’t like that there are people out there that hold such lewd photos of you that you don’t even know.”

“I…”

“People that don’t even care about you, not like I do.”

“Jungkook—”

“I have feelings for you, Y/N!” He grits his confession through his teeth, turning away from you the moment your mouth shuts and your posture straightens, lowering your legs from your chest. “I haven’t been exactly subtle about it, either. I don’t think so, anyway.”

“Then why?” You throw your hands up, letting them fall against the couch. “Why do you fuck other girls in your bed, which is right next to my room, so loudly that I need to wear headphones to drown out the sound?”

Jungkook throws his head back, a sour laugh leaving his throat. His fingers rub into his eyes when he feels the tension behind them. “You don’t get to do that, Y/N. No.”  

“Oh my god,” you get up from the couch, “oh my god!” You shout into the open space of your apartment, thinking it was going to end there before anything could get worse. You didn’t want to fight, you tried to remove yourself, but Jungkook followed you to your bedroom. You turn to shut the door but his palm slams against it before it can close fully.

“You’re good at that, you know?” There’s a faux amusement in his features, you scowl at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Running away from your feelings.”

“Well, I’d hate to subject you to dating such a careless, cheap whore that sells herself for money!” You turn away from him, marching around your room for your pyjamas, tossing them onto your unmade bed, the bed you shared with him that night and took care of him while he was weak. The memory is fleeting when his presence only makes the air in your room thick with judgement.

“I never called you a cheap whore, don’t put words into my mouth.” He points at you, “I just hate the way that mother fucker used your photo to blackmail you like that. I’m just saying what you’re doing is dangerous, Y/N.”

“I’m not doing it anymore.” You mutter under your breath, clutching your towel in your hands when you face him.

“Enlighten me then, what were you doing in the bathroom for half an hour at the restaurant?” His stare is cold, taking a step toward you. You take one back on instinct, the backs of your legs hitting the bed frame and you fall back onto your bed. You’re look ahead, past his face when he bends down to come face to face with you. “Did you send them?”

You shake your head. No, you hadn’t sent the images. You touched yourself in that bathroom, you took the photos as per the request, and you didn’t send them. Not when you saw his face behind your eyes, hidden in your thoughts. The whispers from the people that were dear to you, who couldn’t look at you because of it.

“No?”

You shut your eyes, shaking your head with a sniffle. Tears fall silently down your cheeks, hot with anger and guilt.

“You listen to me,” He lowers himself to his knees in front of you, taking a breath as he softens his tone. “I can only be there for you if you let me. I would go to the ends of the earth for you— you’re my best friend.”

You let yourself cry, letting your head fall to hide your blubbering but his fingers catch your chin. “Look at me, Dove.”

“How could you have feelings for me when–” You croak, but he hushes you, pulling your frame into his arms.

“There’s nothing you could do in this world.” He cuts you off, finger raking through your hair to soothe your hiccupping sobs. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way, I know you don’t,” He mutters into your hair, fighting that familiar sting in his eyes, “I just don’t think I can pretend that I don’t anymore, either.”

You pull away to look at him, and your heart shattered when his nose twitches, and his glossy eyes are straining to keep away his own tears. “It’s okay.” He smiles softly, but you know him well. You know him well enough to read between the lines; the things he said hadn’t matched the way he looked at you when he lied through his teeth. It’s not okay when he knows he wants you so bad it hurts, that his chest is so tight, and he fights to keep his breathing steady while he waits for you to say something.

You know that look— it’s hope.

Your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and you don’t miss the way he sinks into your touch. You want to listen to the way your heart pounds too, but your mind…it tells you that you’ve ruined any chances you had to make him happy.

“You should get some rest,” you tell him, letting your hand slip away from him. “You look exhausted.” He nods, rises from his knees as he drags his feet toward your door. He looks over his shoulder one last time before he closes your door behind him, leaving you with the quiet tears and self-loathing that troubled you.

You never should have thought this was just easy money, shouldn’t have convinced yourself that you would be safe so long as nobody knew. But most of all, you shouldn’t have assumed your friends were going to be supportive. Would it have been different if you were honest with them? Why didn’t you just ask someone for help? Did you hate yourself that much?

From beyond your door, Jungkook receives a text that blurs his vision— makes him see red.

©jigglyjeon 2025 all rights reserved

taglist: @bhonbhon , @rikifever , @jungkookswifeeeeeee , @songbyeonkim , @ttanniett

Eventually you do come storming out, your bag slung over your shoulder. Your features are flat, hair pulled back into a ponytail, your face flushed as if you had only just recently stopped crying. He stands up straight when your presence enters the living room, but he doesn’t even get to let a word past his lips, he can only suck in breath because you head straight for the door, closing the door calmly behind you. You don’t spare him a glance; you don’t even turn around. 

You were out of the apartment just as quickly as you walked into the room. Jungkook sighs, dumping his coffee into the sink, grabbing his bag before heading out the door for work.

When he gets to work, he decides he isn’t going to force it, he’s not gonna check his phone every two seconds in hopes you’ve replied to his message(s). He’ll give you space, let you breathe if that’s what you wanted. He wishes he knew what you were thinking, and he wondered if this was enough of a fuck up on his end to make you hate him. He thinks you hating him might be the scariest thing that could happen to him. Scarier than that time his coffee mug exploded in the microwave at work a couple of months ago, and he had found that moment to be particularly terrifying.

He’s leaning too far forward into the screen as he types, and when Jimin rolls over in his seat he clicks his tongue. Jimin grabs the back of Jungkook’s collar, pulls him back slightly and gives the buff baby a stern look. It reminds him terribly of his mother, which only reminds him that he should call her, it’s been a while. “Don’t slouch, Jungkookie.” The brunette grunts at his supervisor and friend, leaning back instead, and turning back to his work.

Jimin lets out a careful breath, “So, you look like death today.” He rolls closer to Jungkook so that he’s beside him, tapping a pen against the table to garner his attention. “What’d you do this time?”

Jungkook lifts his fingers from his keyboard, puffs out a frustrated breath. He brings his stiff fingers to rub at his tired eyes. “What didn’t I do?” He mumbled, mostly to himself, “I completely took advantage of the girl I love, is what I did.” He scrubs his palms over his face. “Why did I do that?” When he finally looks at Jimin, his eyes are red. He fails to hide the way they’ve glossed over slightly, even though he’s managed to keep his voice steady.

“I’m not following, kid…” Jimin looks at him worriedly, lifting his hand to his friends’ tense shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Y/N saw a text from Yuri on my phone last night, and–”

“So what? Doesn’t she know that you two were hooking up?” Jimin frowns, his brows pinching together, bracing himself for what Jungkook is about to reveal to him. Because Jimin knew him, which meant that he also knew you, by default; he knew that you rarely ever got mad at Jungkook, and if there was going to be a reason for it, it was going to be a valid one. As much as he loved and cared for the younger boy, he was renowned for making mistakes. Especially with women. But this was you that they were talking about; Jungkook wasn’t going to take it lightly when it came to his chances with you.

“Yeah, but the text she sent me made it look like we were still hooking up.”

Jungkook had met Yuri at a college part you’d invited him to in late November last year. With absolutely zero intention to sleep with anyone, he had simply agreed because it meant that he got to watch out for you while you got drunk and partied yourself into the ground. To celebrate, you had told him, to let loose. Of course, there had been a theme, which of course was Slutty Santa, and that meant you dressed as a skimpy little elf. You wore a tiny little red and green outfit; with white knee-high socks and a pair of regular loafers you already owned. He remembers it vividly, how could he forget when it was all he could see the entire night; it didn’t matter that the house was dim, the only form of light the LED ones hung along the walls— you stood out to him like the single star that shined just a little bit brighter than the others in the night sky. You always had.

It was jealousy that led him into the arms of a red head with fox eyes, the black dress and Santa hat she wore was lazy work to the theme that Jungkook himself hadn’t even indulged in, maybe it was why he had found himself standing by her, engaging in conversation. Yuri wasn’t subtle in her motivations, touching his arm and smiling sweetly at him. He looked between you and her, and when you had fallen into the lap of a guy he didn’t even know, but you apparently had known so well, he had let Yuri lead him up the stairs and into a vacant bedroom. She was a beautiful woman in her own right, but even when he indulged himself in the way she kissed him, slow with lust, he found it hard to see anyone else but you when his eyes fell shut.

That was that.

He only sees how bad that was when he thinks back to that night, where his possessiveness over a girl who didn’t want him allowed him to make poor decisions. He shuts his eyes tight, blinking rapidly when the ring of his pupil’s pounds through his vision as he tries to adjust them. It makes his head spin instead of ridding himself of the memories of his missteps like he’d intended it to.

“Are you?” Jimin raises a brow that’s met with a deep, sharp glare. He holds up his hands in defence, “Just asking.”

“I haven’t been entertaining Yuri at all since Y/N told me she wanted to give me a chance.” 

“Did you tell Yuri that, though?” 

 Yuri? Why would he tell Yuri? That wasn’t relevant to her or to the arrangement they had together. “No, it’s none of her business.” 

Jimin tuts, shaking his head with a disappointed look on his face. “You are such a mess, you know that?”

He expects Jungkook to grow defensive, he always did when he was slapped in the face with the harsh truth, but the change in his demeanour makes Jimin’s stomach turn.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at him. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Taehyung?”

“I told you I didn’t think it wasn’t good timing–“

“He’s one of my best fucking friends, Jimin!” He whisper-shouts, his jaw stiffening. His sadness merging into the anger he felt last night. “You should have at least told Y/N.”

Jimin nods, “I was coming over here to talk to you about that, actually.” He chews on his lip, rummaging his thoughts for the right words to say. He takes that time to really look at Jungkook.

He looks tired, like he hasn’t even had the chance to shut his eyes. Surely it wasn’t over you finding Yuri’s text. No, there was more to it, and he could tell; it evident in the way his usually lively features were drooping with exhaustion, anger, frustration; his notably big eyes were heavy with the lack of rest he had gotten, and it’s been a while since Jimin’s seen Jungkook so shaken up about something.

He wasn’t going to bounce back quickly from this like his usual self would.

“I was wrong, I–“ Jungkook’s stare remains firm, causing Jimin’s head to drop, looking to the ground with a deflated sigh. “It was wrong of me to keep it from you, from Y/N, too. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Yeah, well, you were wrong.”

“I know!” Jimin tosses his pen onto the table with frustration. Jungkook eyes the pen, watches it roll off the table with a dull thud against the carpet floors. With a sigh, he gives Jungkook a sincere look, “I know, I’m sorry.”

For the first time in a long while, Jimin looks apologetic. It’s only then Jungkook softens his gaze, letting his shoulders roll forward. Maybe it wasn’t exactly fair to be taking it out on Jimin, although he stands by the fact he should have told him the minute, he discovered the truth, he trusts in Jimin when he says he was trying to do the right thing. Jimin was always trying to do what he thinks is best for everyone, even for you, even when he was harsh and stern with you about your intentions with Jungkook. While you knew that, it sometimes left you wondering whether he actually liked you or not. Ever the overthinker, you’d always confide in Jungkook about that. Even when his answer was always the same.

“I just, Y/N isn’t this perfect girl that can do no wrong. I think sometimes you forget she’s just a girl.” Jimin explains, “She’s allowed to be special to you, you’re allowed to love her, but just like you, she makes mistakes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “What are you saying? Aren’t I the one who’s making the mistakes? I got so blinded by her wanting me that I forgot that the rest of the world was still going on around me.”

“I’m just saying she has flaws. One you have in common is that you both lack good communication skills, and if you don’t learn how to, well, talk— it’s going to be a problem for you in the long run.”

Jungkook groans, throws his head back against the chair and folds his arms over his chest. His head has not stopped throbbing since he came into work. For a moment he wonders if you’re okay; a deep part of him hopes that you’re not letting any of it ruin your day, that it’s not affecting you as much as it was affecting him. But it was wishful thinking because he saw the way you walked out of your shared space, avoided seeing him altogether.

He knows you have a big test coming up that you’ve been head-in-books over, and he feels guilty when he thinks about how this was probably piling onto the stress you were currently feeling. He had always admired how hard you work, had always found that part of you attractive— he wasn’t a model student himself, so he really thought it was admirable how consistent and serious you were to your crafts.

“So, should I text her?” He asks, letting go of the anger he had previously directed at Jimin. There was no use for that now, and he was tired of throwing his emotions out on his sleeve. It was starting to suck the life out of him.

“Yeah actually, for once I think that might be a good idea.” Jimin nods, “Take your half-hour if you need it.”

Being alone and to be lonely were two different things— to be alone meant to breathe, to recharge when your batteries inevitably depleted, and all you wanted to do was curl up on your couch with a blanket and some cookies and milk to snack of while you watched the Twilight series back-to-back.

The feeling of being lonely, though? Well, you knew in that moment that it meant to feel lost. Hollow inside, constantly on the verge of tears. To be in a desperate search for a hand to grab onto, a shoulder to lean on; for someone that tells you everything will be okay, that you’re not alone.

It was clear then— this was loneliness. You have never ached so hard, never felt so out of place. Jungkook was the person you turned to for everything; when you got into a fight with Jia, because you always used to butt heads with her because you were both stubborn and head-strong, or when Jimin had something a little bit too honest that hurt your feelings.

You wonder if cutting them off was a good move. They hadn’t reached out since the part, like there was an unspoken silence of the end of an era, the fading of a friendship that was at its foreseeable end. Now you somewhat wish you could pull out your phone and text them, tell them that they were right and men really were impossible.

Still, you can’t help but believe that all of this is your fault. It was you that had kept such a vulnerable secret from the people you loved. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You don’t know why you find it easy not to say things, to keep them locked away in the taverns of your soul where no one can find them; where your flaws can’t be picked apart, where the people you wanted validation from couldn’t tear you to shreds and realise that you’re damaged.

You hugged your bag to your chest in search of comfort, instead of wearing it over your shoulders like regular. You took your time walking through the courtyard and watched idly as people walked by you; the very people you never bothered to take a second glance at once.

They were the people you’ve attended the same university as for the past three years, smiling and laughing with a friend, or holding hands with their loved one. It only deepened the frown on your face, wondering why you’ve deprived yourself of that. Why were you afraid to make eye contact and smile at a stranger, knowing that if it were you, it would probably make your day a little bit easier. Knowing that you’ve been acknowledge, that you were noticed.

Your bottom lip wobbled when you looked over into the field, where a couple was making a little bit too much noise; a boyfriend that lifted his girlfriend up in his arms with ease, spinning her around and making her laugh hysterically. You think of him then:

Jungkook.

He had sent you a text just before your tutorial had ended, and you hadn’t didn’t reply. You were mad, or sad, or– okay, you admit you don’t really know what you’re feeling. You just felt heavy with emotions, you feel let down. If this were any other guy you were sure you’d find it easier to put one foot in front of the other and keep your shoulders straight. You’d still be smiling, enjoying the sun and seeing the bright side of things. Music playing through your headphones, blocking any chance to feel sadness, or betrayal. What was meant to be would be, and if it wasn’t— then it wouldn’t.

All the walls you had spent years building around your heart had immediately crumbled into dust the moment you felt his lips on yours. His gentle touches, the fluttered pecks along your neck, they all lingered; the ghost of his touch haunting you in your darkest hour. Could it be that you’re using Yuri as an excuse to push Jungkook’s heart away? Maybe partially, because pushing people away felt easier when things got too real. You convinced that all bad things had a purpose to you, and that you were made to deal with on your own.

You pause on your walk to your car, resting your back against a building wall, sniffling. Your tears feel hot when they fall past your eyes. The more you blinked, the more that fell.

You can’t help but think that Jimin had always been right about you; you were avoidant and dismissive, not so much towards other people but to the person that mattered most— yourself. You weren’t the easy-going person you portrayed yourself to be, not the way Yuri was.

Jungkook had always felt like home to you. Being near him steadied your heart and made you feel light. You had mistaken it for the great platonic connection that you had with him; you were comfortable around him, he was easy to talk to, and he never looked at you like you were strange when you let the most unhinged thoughts slip out loud.

He made everything feel better when times got a little bit too tough, and that was something you couldn’t say for any of the other guys you’ve dated over the course of your life. To be comfortable in a relationship was a foreign concept to you, you weren’t meant to let them see your weaknesses because that’s what friendship was for. That’s what you thought.

That gurgling feeling in your stomach whenever Yuri sat in your kitchen in his clothes, it wasn’t because it was late and you needed a snack— it was because you were envious. You were jealous that she was beautiful and very much the type of girl you had always envisioned being with him. Yuri was patient and comfortable with herself and just overall chill about everything— everything except for him.

You knew she had to be crazy about him, because how could she not be? You knew it so not only because she would glow every time she looked at him, but because you were also crazy about him, and you thought she would have to be clinically insane not to be.

Still, he had chosen you. In the words of his own, he had always chosen you. Though right now it didn’t feel sincere. Even if you knew that his feelings were true, because Jungkook plastered his emotions on his face like post it notes on a corkboard. But if he was going to toss Yuri aside like she meant nothing to him.

What’s to say he won’t do the same to you the moment you let your guard down with him?

It’s what you’ve always been afraid of, no matter how much you trusted him. What if the way he claimed to yearn for you was all in the name of the chase, of wanting something he couldn’t have?

You know that it was too late, because you’ve already shown him that the things he did, they mattered to you. That the choices he made, how they affected you. You thought of Yuri, what she’d think if she knew. Did she already know? Would she hate you if she knew? You wonder why that even mattered to you, why you cared so much about what she’d think. Even if she did have something that you’ve always wanted.

Now that you’ve had him, you know it was going to be impossible for you to let him go. It was going to be so much harder to separate your feelings for him when you’ve already allowed him to worm his way into your thoughts and dreams. There was no going back to being his roommate— Jungkook wasn’t just your best friend anymore.

Maybe he never was.

That’s why you couldn’t go home, not yet. You needed to recollect yourself and breathe before you could face him again. Without looking at him with tears in your eyes, all while desperate to fall into his arms for comfort, even if he was the reason for them. When you find yourself in front of Jimin’s apartment instead of your own, you don’t even realise just how long you’re parked, ruminating in your spiralling thoughts. When Jimin knocks on your window, it hardly even makes you flinch. You lift your forehead off the steering wheel, peering up at him with dreary eyes and stained cheeks. He looks through the glass with a confused expression that silently asks you what you’re doing here. It makes you pout, and you start to cry again.

Jimin clicks his tongue, cocking his head towards his home, even opens the door for you to climb out of the driver’s seat. You lock your car and drag your feet behind him, following him into his apartment. He waits until your sat in his kitchen, a cup of cool water held delicately between your hands. Your fingers tap against the glass, palms slightly wet from the condensation. You take another sip before he plants it on the counter.

“He didn’t exactly tell me what he did, but I can muster up some ideas.” He leans in front of you, a careful smile on his full lips. You pucker your lips, staring into the peppery pattern of the marble. It’s then he scoffs, his grin is bright though it holds no humour to it. “God, I feel like a therapist.”

“You’re too honest to be a therapist.” Your voice cracks, but he doesn’t mention it or tease you for it the way he normally would.

“That’s why I’m a supervisor at an office.” He snorts, “Jungkook works hard though, does his job well.” He nods, taking a sip of his third cup of coffee of the day. He had garnered a bit of a caffeine addiction, and he blames everyone else but himself for that.

You hum, “We slept together.”  

Jimin carefully lets the mouthful of coffee spill slowly back into his cup, putting it down and pushing it aside. “This he failed to tell me.”  He raises his brows.

“It was my fault. I was sad, I was angry, and I was confused–”

“So, you regret it?” He cuts you off.

“No! Not at all. It was…” There’s a slight tug at the corners of your lips, looking up as you think back to the moment.

“Okay, no need for details.”  

“Magical.”

“Alright, okay.” He makes an x with his hands, tapping his wrists together “Time out.”

You chuckle lightly, “You know when he started to see Yuri, I closed up my heart to him completely.” You begin, your small smile falters. “I was so sure then, that he had found someone good for him.”

“Even though I spent that night in someone else’s bed, all I could think about was him. I was so used to him being available, and there for me all the time. I took advantage of that, and I realised how much I wanted him because after that I didn’t even so much as look at another guy. Even when he brought Yuri home, let her sleep in his bed.”

Jimin watches you carefully as you talk, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in hopes to stop yourself from crying anymore. “Then the money my parents had lent me had started running out, and I couldn’t find a job that suited my availability and then I found that stupid app.”

“It helped me forget, made me feel good about myself when my heart was hurting. It’s not his fault, but I sometimes wonder if it would have been different if one of us just said something. I didn’t even know–” You take a breath, steadying your emotions, “I don’t understand why Taehyung did that. He’s always been so kind to me, and he’s one of Jungkook’s closest friends.”

Jimin nods, “I’ve never liked Taehyung. I think he’s always had this secret animosity towards Jungkook. Always competing with him, wanted the things that he had. When Jungkook got a job at our office, Taehyung was stuck as a mechanic.”

You never saw it that way. Taehyung had always seemed comfortable in who he was, content with his life. Whenever you were around him and Jungkook, they were always laughing and having fun together. There were parts of their relationship that had gone unnoticed by you, or perhaps you hadn’t spent the time to really analyse it all the way Jimin seemingly had.

“I think naturally he envied what you and Jungkook had. When I confronted him, he told me that you liked you, too. Actually, he said he saw you first? Whatever that means.”

“What does he mean by that?” You tilt your head.

Jimin isn’t sure what would do more damage than good. The things Taehyung had told him had left him confused, yes, but they did make sense to him. A lot of people had crushes on people that didn’t even know they existed, he supposed it wasn’t a totally foreign concept. He himself remembers the people he admired from afar, especially during his school days.

“Apparently, he ran with the same crowd you did, like a year or so before you moved in with Jungkook.” He explains, “I guess he’d always had his eyes on you.” He shrugs, feeling slightly awkward as you look into the distance at nothing in particular, processing the idea he had just planted in your head.

“I didn’t meet Taehyung until I moved in with Jungkook.” You shake your head, like you’re trying to convince yourself of the fact.

“I’m sure that’s true, or– I don’t know. Don’t take this the wrong way, but is possible you just don’t remember?” Jimin asks, pressing his lips together into a thin line.

You groan when you think about those times. You did do a lot of drinking, that much was true. You roll your head back, suddenly feeling the stiffness in your neck. “It’s not impossible, if what he’s saying is true.”

Jimin only hums, nodding idly.

You pull out your phone to check the time, your eyes drop to the notifications left unopened. Your thumbs over it, you hold your breath when you tap on them.

He watches the way your thumbs over the keyboard on your phone, typing out messages, visibly deleting them when you tap on the same spot repeatedly, clearly removing your reply altogether.

“Go,” Jimin urges. “Talk to him. speak from the heart, just say everything— just don’t let your fears obscure the truth of it all. It’ll work out better that way, I promise you.”

When you look at him, he can tell that you’re just by the way your eyes water through a tightened smile that you’re grateful for him. You’re glad he was there for you when you needed him to be, the way a friend should do. No judgement, no picking apart your errors, just an ear to listen and a gentle outlook.

With a final nod, you let him walk you to the door, groaning when he ruffles your hair and pushes gently on your shoulder, thanking him before he closes the door.

Standing in front of your door, you don’t expect to hear the amount of noise coming from the other side. Clashing of cookware and utensils sound through to make it known that he was there. You try to be as quiet as possible when you shove the key through the door, careful in the way you step into the apartment.

You’re successful, he doesn’t notice you’re there yet. It gives you a moment to take in the sight of him. His back turned to you, the string of the apron tied neatly against his back, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows as he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook whips around the moment he hears the door shut, wide eyes and parted lips. There’s a line of flour along his cheekbone, and when he wiped the back of his hand along his nose it leaves some at the tip of it as well. “Y/N, hey.” His nose twitches, fighting off a smile. He’s not sure if you’d appreciate the gesture or not, not yet.

“What are you doing?” You ask him softly. Your hands linger on the doorknob as you press your back against the door.

“I’m making cookies.” He nods fast, the nerves evident in the way he wipes his palms against his apron. Your apron. “F-for you.” He huffs, shutting his eyes when you stare at him blankly, turning his back to you again as he continues making an absolute mess of the kitchen.

But the aroma it sends throughout the apartment makes your insides flutter with a warmth and giddiness that you fail to subdue. Warm cookies have to be one of those scents that could make nearly everything feel better; maybe it was why you lingered around in the bakery section at the supermarket in the mornings. You slip away from the door, sneak your way to his side. He can hear the quiet patter of your sock-clad feet against the floor. He doesn’t look up at you when you stand beside him, but he can see you in his peripherals.

He wipes at the dampness on his forehead with his forearm, rolling the last of the dough he’d made into a ball to put onto a second baking try. You peak over him where there’s a batch that’s already been cooked. You can tell it’s mixed with white and semi-sweet chocolate chips. That was your favourite, but of course he knew that.

“Jungkook.” You try, resting your temple against the fridge, your fingers still fiddling behind your back. He hums in response, opening the oven to put the tray of cookie dough inside, only to look over all the mess he’d created for himself. Preoccupied, he moves the tray of cookies to the other side of the kitchen out of his way. You shadow him as he moves back and forth within the space. “Jungkook.”

His knuckles hit the underside of the marble, and he grunts, shaking his hand off as the pain sears through his arm. The exhale he lets out shakes slightly, but he meets your waiting eyes. “Yeah?” He exhales.

“I think we should talk about last night.” You push yourself off the fridge, walk toward him slowly. He’s frozen in his spot, forgetting all about what he was meant to be doing. His eyes don’t leave your face, not even breaking contact as you reach around his head, slowly remove the apron from around his neck, moving them down to release the knot that kept it tight around his waist. You toss it onto the table, avoiding his deep stare, letting yours look over his chest that rose and fell faster than normal. You can still feel it even when you turn your back to him, creating some distance between you.

“Y/N–”

“Don’t say sorry.” You stop him. “I just want to know if you love her.”

Jungkook blinks at you from behind. “Yuri?” He almost laughs. But then he sees the way you turn your head, not quite looking over your shoulder at him, but showing him a part of your expression. You were serious. “Not even close.” Because it’s you that I love, he thinks to himself. It doesn’t quite come out, though.

“I could feel this…aching in my chest–” Your fingers twitch, reaching up to rest just where you heart sat inside of you.  “–seeing you with her. You seemed happy.” You admit, your throat growing dry as you speak words you’d never imagine would fall past your lips, would ever move past fleeting thoughts. “Seeing you with her only made how I felt for you real, and that terrified me.” You let the silence ring between you, but when he doesn’t speak you allow yourself to continue.

“I never saw that guy you know. After the Christmas party.”  When you turn around, your initial fear of his eyes piercing into you rings true. For once, you don’t let it shake you. “But you kept Yuri around.”

He opens his mouth, goes to say something but you don’t allow it, there was too much you wanted to say, so you say it. “I thought what you had was serious. I just wanted to leave it alone, pretend that I wasn’t so incredulously into my roommate–” You forget to breathe for a moment. Gasping for air, allowing your breathing pattern to settle back down. Still, you’re bracing yourself for the impact of what you’re about to say next.

“It really hurt to see you make someone else smile, someone that wasn’t me.”

He sighs shakily when your voice breaks at your confession, and the sad look in his eye alone is enough to let yourself cry. He reaches for you, rubs at your arms with a quiet hush. “Don’t cry.” He begs, because it was the most painful thing he’d have to endure— being the reason for your tears.

“I know– I know it’s selfish.” You whimper as he pulls you into his chest, burying his head into your neck, breathing you in. “To just think you could read my mind like that, to think you’d wait for me.”

“I would have, I could, Y/N— wait for you, I mean.” He rushes out, assuring you that it wasn’t just on you. “I fucked it up, okay? I act out when I get jealous. Every time you called me your best friend, I sulked and ran into Yuri’s arms thinking she was going to solve all my problems, but she didn’t.”

Your body shakes in his arms, vision blurred by the tears that didn’t stop coming. You felt so vulnerable, so beaten and broken down, everything hitting you all at once. You failed Jungkook, and you failed yourself— and you truly believed that.

“Have I ruined everything?” Jungkook laughs, but there’s no amusement to his tone. He removes himself from you, to let you breathe, but you only forget how; the moment he lets you go you feel cold— empty.

Subconsciously, your arms reach for him again, but he takes your hands in his instead, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. You watch the movement; you feel the warmth of his hands transfer into yours, uncaring of the fact they were growing clammy.

You shake your head, “You couldn’t ruin how I feel about you, I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Really?” He asks hopeful, can’t contain the way it makes his lips curl up. You release an amused breath through your nose, looking up at him shyly.

“Will you do something for me?” You ask, meek.

“Anything, dove.” His fingers wrap around your wrists, lifting your fingers to his lips. He kisses them gingerly.

“Will you talk to her? Tell her the truth.”

You can tell that he recoils slightly at the thought of that, he releases your wrists, one of his hands reaching to the back of his head. He scratches at his scalp, then runs the same hand through his hair. Jungkook hasn’t had a conversation about his feelings with Yuri, not even close. Their conversations were surface level mostly, if they weren’t indulging in a distraction from his raging emotions. Jungkook frowns, searches your features for answers. Why would you want him to talk to her when you had basically just told him that you were jealous of her? You sniffle, eyes still slightly glassy from earlier. He’s glad you’ve relaxed since, even if it was only a little.

With a huff, he nods curtly. “Okay. If that will make you happy, then I’ll talk to Yuri.”

You smile, thanking him as you reach up to cup your hand over his cheek. He places his own on top of yours. Suddenly your nose twitches, taking a step back, looking down at the oven.

“I think they might be burning.” You state, pointing at the dark-looking cookies that the both of you had long forgotten about.

Jungkook curses under his breath, throwing on the oven mitts and dragging the sweets out of the oven. He slides it onto the counter with a pout. “At least the other batch turned out okay.” He turns to you, hardly given a moment to breathe when you crash into him, your arms falling over his shoulders as you press your lips onto his unsuspecting ones.

He’s only frozen for moment, but it doesn’t take long for his mouth to catch up with his brain, his top lip closing over the top of yours. He lets out a long, happy sigh exiting through his nose. His hands come to rest on your hips, but he still stumbles backwards as you throw your weight at him, your toes not enough to support you leaning forward into him. He moans against your mouth, dragging his hands up your body until they reach your jaw. He takes your face in his hands to pull you off him gently. “I didn’t think you would forgive me just yet.”

“I don’t forgive you.” You breathe, lean forward to find his lips again. He only pecks your lips, holding your shoulders. You roll your eyes. “I also can’t stand being away from you.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, nodding in understanding. “Okay.” He leans down, kisses you softly. You blink slow when he pulls away, smiling sweetly before repeating the action. “Then I’ll keep trying.”

You melt into him when he walks you back against the counter, pressing his body flush against yours. It’s subtle, but his foot pushes between yours, forcing your legs apart without you even fully realising. “I’ll bring you flowers every day after work.” He kisses your cheek, one hand on your lower back, the other holding the back of your head steady. He feels you rest against it, letting it fall back to give him access to your throat. “I’ll make you dinner every night.” He continues, dragging his lips along your jaw. The feeling makes your eyes fall shut, and with each heavy breath you take your chest rises, colliding gently with his. “I’ll keep telling you how much I love you.”

Your eyes open, looking over his shoulder as he kisses your neck, the warmth of his tongue against your hot skin making you gasp. He pulls away, comes face to face with you. “I–” He closes the distance between you, stealing the words from your lips. Shutting you up.

“How much I always have.” He continues when he pulls away, breathy and quiet— for your ears only.

“When you’re not around, all I can think about is you. You’ve plagued my life with that pretty face of yours, and now I can’t go back.”  

“That’s dangerous.” You flash him a half smile, and there’s a teasing glint in your eye. “Sweet talking like that.”

“I’m just saying how I feel.” The hand on your lower back twitches, you hardly register the way he lowers it until he grabs at your ass, making you arch your back, narrowing your eyes at him in light-hearted warning. He snickers, his forehead resting against yours as he scans your face, watching as you try to capture his lips again. He pulls away whenever you get close, your lips only ever brushing before he pulls away, he kisses your cheek, hiding his face in your hair.  

“We can stop; we don’t have to do this.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his nose dragging along the side of your neck. You whimper at the pet-name, and you fear that you won’t be able to now— you don’t think you can stop. “I’ll wait however long you need me to— I’m not going anywhere.”  

Why does it feel like he’ll slip through your fingers if you say no to this? How do you say no to this when his knuckle caresses your inner thigh so patiently, never riding his touch high enough to cross a line. Why did you feel like nothing else mattered whenever his lips touched your skin? You were still not sure where you wanted this to lead, or rather, you weren’t sure you were quite ready to forgive him so easily when he had unfinished matters with another woman. A part of you felt dirty for letting him touch you, allowing him to make you want to beg for him to pleasure you; there’s another part of you that feels triumphant, and you know that’s wrong of you.

You never claimed to be good, no matter how hard you tried to be.

Nobody was good 100% of the time.

You’ve only just learnt to stay true to how you feel inside. Your morals are telling you that you should reel this in, tell him you need his friendship right now, that there were things you need to talk about first. But your body? Your body couldn’t care less about your morals right now. Above all, Jungkook was your best friend, and as much as you enjoyed the way he soothed your worries right now, Taehyung still lingered in the back of your mind.

Did Jungkook know that Taehyung knew who you were?

The question ebbs within your thoughts, but the forefront is filled with the way he has your knees giving in. You needed his arms to hold you up, needed his body pressing into yours to keep you stable. “I can’t…” you whine, to yourself or Jungkook you’re not entirely sure.

“Can’t what?” The low buzz of his voice tickles your skin, clearing your throat when you think you might moan because of it. “Talk to me, dove.”

“I…”

Speak from the heart.

“I love you,” it comes out in almost a sob, like it was hurting you to say, all while finding the hand that circled your thigh, leading it higher u, manoeuvring his fingers to skim the material of your shorts between your legs. “I love you too.” You throw your head back when his fingers move on their own, cupping your clothed crotch, pushing his palm into you. He only answers in heavy breaths, guiding your head back up so that he could kiss you again.

Who needed alcohol when you could get this intoxicated from his touch alone? If you had known so back then, in times that you were reckless, you might have waited for him to find you. Maybe then you wouldn’t have put up all of the walls that kept you from these moments. Maybe you would have had him sooner, and things wouldn’t have turned out so complicated. You realise there was no reason to dwell, not when you’re here now.

Still, you wonder. Then you might have remembered those days more clearly, remember the people around. Or maybe you’d know different people altogether. It was funny how every choice you made would change the course of your life forever, would impact every decision and every moment. It would lead you down roads you couldn’t come back from.

You didn’t need to live in your thoughts anymore though.

You knew better than anyone that you could change your life in the blink of an eye, all you had to do was snap your fingers and decide that for yourself. You’ve done it before, and you could do it again.

Knowing Jungkook had changed you for the better. With him you had learnt what it meant to be cared for, to be loved without any strings attached. Jungkook showed you what it truly meant to be seen— to be wanted. You didn’t think someone like that could exist for you; you spent the most part of two years convincing yourself of that.

But you deserved to be happy too, and for the first time – in a very long time – you truly believed that. There was no need to punish yourself for who you used to be. Not anymore.

So, you let his name fall past your lips, buck up into his hand as he pops open the button of your shorts, pulling the zipper down. You grip the edge of the counter with tightened fingers, throwing your head back completely when his hand moves to support your arching back instead of your head. He invades the place you ache for him, dipping his hand into the fabric of your underwear to drag a singular finger between your wet folds. He nips at your neck, tongue soothing over his attack to your sensitive skin.

You release a hand to hold onto his wrist as he rubs on your clit, tantalisingly slow but the feeling is delicious all the same. Your hips stutter as they chase his touch, and you’re no longer shy about the high-pitched breaths that leave your throat, your tiny mewls of desire making it known that what he’s doing is pleasing you.

“Barely touching you…” he laughs, nosing at your jaw. “Look like you’re close to cumming already.”

He’s only teasing, but he’s not wrong. The way he circles and flicks at your bundle of nerves brings your high closer than you’d anticipated. When you look up at him with heavy eyes, he raises a brow at you. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks innocently.

“But Y/N…I haven’t even put my fingers in your pussy yet.” He complains playfully, but his voice deep and coarse. It rings through you and makes your legs stutter on the spot.

You release a shaky moan, your grip on his wrist tightening as you flutter around nothing, feeling empty. You noise your displeasure when he takes his finger off your clit, middle finger circling your entrance. He hums with satisfaction. “So wet, so ready for me.”

He pushes his finger inside, curling them up to prod at your sensitive walls. His thumb finds your swelling nub, rubbing you a little bit faster, in rhythm with his finger dragging in and out of you. “Oh, Jungkook, s’good…” you drag out, struggling to keep your eyes open. You want to see him, so you try but they only roll backwards as that knot in your stomach begins to build up again.

“You’re perfect,” he praises, “Look so beautiful like this.”

The sound of his fingers working you towards your orgasm sounds through the kitchen, the lewd squelch an indication of just how worked up he had made you. Jungkook watches your face contort in pleasure, teeth playing with his lip ring in concentration. He stirs in his boxers, but the thought of releasing his cock from his tightening boxers is far from his mind, too engrossed in the way you moan for him. With a final cry of his name, he leans down to quieten your keening, his tongue swirling into your mouth, soothing over yours. His finger rests inside you to the hilt, his palm resting against your heat as you ride out your orgasm on his hand.

When your noises dispel into slow, heavy breaths, he pulls his hand away, looking at you with dark eyes. He brings his soiled hand up to his lips, pushes his finger them to taste you on his tongue. He moans lowly, dragging it out slowly to tease you. You watch with wild eyes.  

“Wha- I hate you.” You whinge, hiding your face in your hands. His laugh is full, genuine as he watches you cower in embarrassment. He mutters something about you being adorable, but your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears you don’t really hear him.

When your hands fall from your face, you find him already watching you, a soft glimmer to his stare that makes you want to fall into his arms all over again. He finds it endearing when you peer up at him with wonder, likely trying to figure out what he’s thinking when he looks at you with such endearment. When you blush, he hums with an upwards twitch of his lips.

It all just feels like one big dream to you.

You shake your head, pushing lightly at his chest as you brush past him. You turn around again, he leans against the counter the way you were previously, arms crossed over his chest with a smug expression.

“We are not doing this again until you talk to Yuri.” You point at him sternly with wide eyes.

He holds his hands up in front of his chest, folding them back when he nods in understanding. “Yes ma’am.”

You groan, stomping down in the hallway toward your bedroom to wash yourself up, pushing aside the thoughts of him following after you, stepping into the shower behind you.  

A sheen of steam trails after you when you opened the bathroom door, walking into your bedrrom  wrapped in a towel, your wet hair cascading over your shoulders. You lift your arms, pushing the wet strands over them so that the rest against your back. You only catch that he’s standing at the entrance of your room when you turn your head whilst doing so. He opens his mouth to speak but it closes again when he sees you, knocking the wind out of him. He only lingers for a moment longer before he turns around and closes your door behind him. You shake your head, giggling at the dumbfounded look on his face.

You spend your time drying your hair and putting on your pyjamas, readying yourself for the good night’s rest you missed out on the previous night.

You prance into the kitchen where Jungkook’s just finishing up cleaning the area, the cookies stacked neatly in a pile on a plate. He tosses and folds the washcloth he uses to wipe down the table nearby the sink, turning to you. He eyes you as you happily grab one, biting into the sweet treat.

The cookies are slightly over baked.

You usually liked a gooey centre, teetering the edge of raw, because you liked the different textures on your tongue. You hum in delight the moment you bite into the cookie, still enjoying its taste despite the minor indifference.

“They okay?” He asks, chewing on the fingernail of his thumb as he watches you take another bite. You nod wildly, maybe a little too enthusiastically because it makes him narrow his eyes at you. “They sound kinda hard.”

You roll your eyes, putting the half-eaten baked-good back onto the plate. “It’s yummy, Jungkook. Thank you.” You assure him with a gentle smile. “It was very sweet of you to make them for me.”

His head lowers sheepishly between his shoulders in a soft shrug. “It was least I could do on short notice.”

You snort, playfully whacking his arm with the back of your hand. You’re about to counter something witty back at him but are interrupted by a soft knocking at your door. Jungkook furrows his brows when you look at him in questioning. “You expecting someone?” You ask him.

“No… are you?” He brushes by you, ignoring the way you click your tongue at him.

“Why would I ask you if I was?” You mumble under your breath, trailing after him. You stand idly behind the door, watching Jungkook unlock it swiftly, swinging it open and covering you from the person waiting outside.

There’s a thickness that coats the air that you breathe when Jungkook doesn’t speak. You hold your breath, the silence inducing the anxiety rising within you.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, landing like daggers into the throat of his target. Your heart sinks, because you can only piece together who they might be. He’s only met with a deep sigh, and he steps back, swinging the door to shut it but a hand slams down on it to stop it from slamming.

“Wait, just let me–”

“Let you what?” You move further against the wall, pressing your back against it as your breaths shake. You were right about your initial assumption, but you don’t feel good about it. All the ringing questions that plagued your thoughts earlier had resurfaced, pounding through your ears and sitting on the edge of your tongue. You want to peak over, confront him too, but all you can do is listen to the way Jungkook spits at him. “Explain? Apologise?  Which one, Taehyung? I’m looking for both personally, but I think I’m more interested in knowing why you went out of your way to ruin Y/N’s life.”

Jungkook wasn’t a terribly angry person. In the time you’ve known him, he was grumpy at best but seeing him angry was a completely new scene to experience. It made your heart race; it was intimidating, and it, even though you hadn’t planned on doing so. You can only imagine how he looks right now if he weren’t hidden from your view behind the door. Bulging eyes, his lips curling in anger; His chest was most likely rising and falling, his stare grim with malice. His fingers would be squeezed in fists unbeknownst to you, preparing for the worst of how he feels when he looks your betrayer in the eye.

It only fuels his anger when Taehyung lowers his head in shame, his own hands hiding in the back pockets of his jeans, hunching over like a kicked puppy.

But Jungkook felt no empathy for his friend, if he even was one to him at this point.  

“Why the fuck would you do such an evil thing to her?” Each word Jungkook fires at Taehyung gets louder, more frightening. You flinch when he shouts at his friend. “Why, hyung?”  

“I didn’t think it through,” He admits, “I didn’t think it was going to affect everyone so much, okay? I care about Y/N too, man.”

“You care about her?” Jungkook shakes his head, jabbing his finger into his chest. He takes a step back, knowing better than to let it irk him. He keeps his distance as Jungkook steps closer to him standing in the hallway before your apartment. “Fuck, Taehyung. I thought I was bad, but you’re something else.” He pushes at his chest, a little bit harsher, “You wanted my girl and this was the way you thought to go?”

“And yet, she still went running to you.”  Taehyung nods, a humourless laugh leaving him. His defeated demeanour does nothing to shake Jungkook’s hatred from him in the moment. looking “Even when you made her feel small about the way she was making her money.”

“You watch your fucking mouth, Taehyung. I never did that, and you fucking know it. I’d never— I love her.” He’s in his face now, makes Taehyung turn his cheek to him. “So, what then? You thought you’d be the one to swoop in and save her from everyone? Is that it?”

Taehyung throws his head back, taking another step back as he runs a shaking hand through his dark locks.

“Huh?!” He pushes him one last time, and this time he does stumble, catching him off guard. He looks at Jungkook with apologetic eyes, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t falter. His nostrils are flared, his entire being is tense and ready to fire. Taehyung doesn’t want to fight; his sight flickers up over Jungkook’s shoulder to see you peaking your head through the door. Seeing you makes it difficult to get out a steady breath, let alone anything of value to say to his friend. The friend he’d lost, the same way he’d lost you.

You don’t let him look for too long, you disappear behind the door again, pushing it slightly but keeping it ajar for Jungkook’s return.

“I don’t even want to look at you anymore, just fuck off. Don’t come back here, yeah?” Jungkook scoffs, but his voice is eased as if the words are easy to say, but they manage to hit Taehyung tough in his chest. He turns on his heel with his head low, ridding his presence from your lives.

Jungkook watches, waits. Taehyung taps once at the elevator button, turning his head to look over his shoulder as the it dings “Kook?”

Jungkook furrows his brow, fists balled at his sides. He eyes him harshly as he steps through the opened doors of the elevator, turning to face him with his hands in his pockets once again.

“I could have loved her, too.”

Before he can even think about what he said, he’s gone.

One of his dearest friends, all throughout his high school years, into some of his college ones— all the good and bad times alike ripped from his hands in an instant. He shouldn’t feel so hurt, not when he knows Taehyung was never truly a good person, but he doesn’t want to think about what it made him to have known that. He had a heart, that much was certain, but he was only ever meaningful to the people he cared deeply for. Keeping something like this from Jungkook felt unforgiveable, and wanting the girl that he knew damn well he loved, well, that was fucked up— but not as fucked up as what he had done to you.

And to think all he had to say to Jungkook was that he could love you too.

It was pathetic, and a testament to how selfish he truly was.

That didn’t mean he didn’t feel any less wounded by the end of their friendship. All he can think about as he turns back to re-enter his home is if this was a similar feeling you felt when your friends judged you instead of nurtured you. Did he do a good enough job of protecting you, making it certain that he cared for you more than any stupid job, or picture, provocative or not.  

Jungkook doesn’t relax until he sees you curled up on the couch, chin resting on your forearm, legs splayed out comfortably as you wait for him to come back inside. You only perk up slightly upon seeing when you catch sight of him, watching him cautiously as he locks the door behind him.

Your eyes follow him as he drags his feet toward you, plummeting back into the couch with a puff.

“Are you alright?” you ask, shuffling over to rest beside him, soothing your hand over his bounching leg. He rubs his face with his hands and scoffs, then groans.

“You know he was the reason that we met?” Jungkook says, and you tilt your head at the information. “Fucker showed me your ad on the website, said it might be a good fit.”

You pull your eyebrows close together, trying to piece what he’s telling you together. Jungkook never mentioned this before. “I didn’t think it was that important, or coincidental.”

For some reason, your throat tightens. There’s something accusatory behind his words, and it muddles with your mind. Yet, when you start to mentally prepare yourself for an interrogation, it doesn’t come. He takes your hand that rests on his thigh, bring it to his lips for a kiss. He inhales sharply, flashing you a quick smile before he stands up.

“I’ll call Yuri tomorrow; I’ll settle everything with her.”

You nod up at him, speechless as he leans back down to kiss your temple one last time. “I love you, dove.”

FOUR YEARS LATER—

“Excuse me? Sorry. You’ve forgotten the Iced Americano for my order; it’s for my fiancé.” You beam politely at the server, who doesn’t look the slightest bit amused with what you have to say.

“Sorry about that.” He deadpans, turning his back to you as he – at least you think – makes that Iced Americano for you. You don’t let it ruin your day, so your smile lingers on your lips as you tap you rock heel-to-toe, clasping your hands in front of you as you inhale comfortably.

You feel content.

Today was a good day, and here was why: you’d been promoted, and the both of you were moving to Seoul to start your new life together. The melancholy you felt to leave your home town and the home that brought the two of you together in the first place didn’t last too long; ever since you landed your first job since graduating, you’ve been working tirelessly and left little to no time to make any new lasting friendships after the fall out you had all those years ago. The tears you shed when you revealed the news to Jimin were second-hand because he had unexpectedly burst into hysterics at the news. He shook Jungkook violently and begged him not to go, that he was one of the company’s best, and fastest, workers and that they would fall apart without him.

When you had told Jungkook the news, he took it as a sign to finally pursue his dreams— he had never wanted to be stuck in that office for the rest of his life anyway, and what better time for a new beginning than this?

Needless to say, there wasn’t anything that the universe could throw at you that was going to wipe the smile off your face. You bow at a 90-degree angle when the barista slides you the americano and a cardboard drink holder, popping your iced latte into the spot right next to where you put Jungkook’s drink. You lift it close to your chest and thank him with a chirpy tone, but he only nods curtly and turns his back to you again. Oh, but you can’t stop the way your lip curls upwards in a silent snarl, burning sockets into the back of his skull with imaginary laser beams.

Nothing was going to shake this terribly great mood you’re in!

You’re too busy cursing under your breath to look ahead and brace yourself for a customer walking toward the door. You stop in your tracks when the bell of the café door rings to alert the worker of another customer. You look up, about to apologise to the person but instead your fingers falter and you nearly drop the coffee you had worked extra hard to wait for.

Your patience was really testing you today, you think. God forbid you had one good day without something annoying, or absolutely terrible happening in between.

You have half a mind to ignore him, push right past him and pretend that you don’t know the person you’re looking up at; even though he’s staring right at you, as if he walked in here because he knew that it was you. Still, something about seeing him makes your curious eyes linger, and you blink at him as he lifts a hand, pressing his lips together tightly. Like he knows he’s really testing his luck here, and he is lucky in some regard— lucky that Jungkook isn’t here to see him.

Taehyung looks different. He’s ditched the leather jacket, and the patterned button ups he wore with the chest dangerously low and undone. Now he’s sporting loose pants and neutral colours. His hair is neat, shorter, and small pieces of his cut fall over his forehead. He brushes those loose parts back with his fingers, but it does nothing to tame them.  

“Hi.” He says eventually. It feels like you’ve been frozen in your spot for hours with how tense everything suddenly felt.

You clear your throat, somehow hugging your coffees even closer to your chest. “Hello, Taehyung.” You nod politely.

“How are you? You look well.” Even the way he talks seems different, like he’s allowing himself to be someone who cares about what others thought of him, because the fact had always been true. He had worn a guise, similarly to yourself, to save himself from the harshness of reality.

You nod some more, not really sure what to say.

Hey, you ruined my life, cost me some friendships and could have seriously hurt any chances I had at a career, and it’s absolutely fantastic that I’m seeing you here right now!

“Things are well.” You settle for the simple answer instead. You can’t help but wonder if this was one of those tests of your morality.

Taehyung nods, humming as if he’s pleased to hear that. He lets his eyes rake the image of you before him, and you shift uncomfortably as he inspects you. His land gaze lands on your left hand’s ring finger.

The ring is unique, not any typical rock. It enwraps the expanse of your finger like vine, small, light pink gems adorn the white gold jewellery like little flowers.

He nods towards your hand. “That’s a pretty ring.” He says.

Despite the strangeness of it all, it makes you smile. “It is, isn’t it?” You hold your hand out in front of you to admire it like you don’t already do that at least ten times a day. You swoon internally, thinking back to the moment he got down on one knee, that sparkling boba pearls beaming up at you nervously.

“You’re engaged?” He asks, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“For six months now, yeah.” You grin from ear-to-ear, unable to contain the joy those words make you feel.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but only for a second, his hands glide behind his hips to find his back pockets to rest them in. A nervous habit.

“I’ve never been happier.” You admit.

It does feel like a blow to the stomach. He doesn’t even think it hurt him this much when Jungkook punched him in the jaw. He deserved it though. He knows that now; deep down he knew it then, too. That he couldn’t come back from what he’d done. “Congratulations.”

His only choice then was to move on, to change. And he’s been trying.

A part of him thought you might be glad to see the changes in him, or to even see him at all. An old friend, one that you didn’t even care to recall. A friend that held your arm over his shoulder when he got black-out drunk, sitting you down somewhere safe and quiet and giving you water to help soothe that throbbing inside your head. Let you whine about how much of a failure you felt like, even if you didn’t remember it the next day.

You had never wanted to go to college, you had never been interested in studying, or academics in general. You had dreams, you wanted to travel the world, to see and create art through the lenses of experiences. It was too far-fetched to you, an impossible dream that was frowned upon by everyone you knew. That wasn’t a job, wasn’t a career that was going to support you through life.

It was so out of reach that you had only let yourself say it out loud when you weren’t going to remember you even admitted that to anyone. You hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of the boy who saved you so many times, who’d hauled you cabs to get home safely.

And when you were sober, you were either in bed sleeping or spending time with your other friends. He didn’t know how to approach you when you looked like your head was always pounding, the bags beneath your eyes telling of the hangovers you hadn’t yet cured.

You wanted those memories pushed so far away that you didn’t recall them. Now, the only parts you do are the ones of you dragging yourself out of bed, fighting with your parents about being a drunk and a screw up, and crying until your eyes had completely been sucked dry of moisture.

If you had known, you would’ve said something. You never even noticed the way he always looked at you, how he was always looking over his shoulder at you when you gathered together as friends, to see if you were okay.

You were okay.

You had gotten better.

That was all that mattered.

“Jungkook,” he shakes his thoughts away, “How’s he?”

“Happy.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, “He’s going back to school when we settle into our new place.”

“You’re moving?”

You lift the coffees in your hands, “Our last ever coffees from this place.” You laugh softly.

“That’s good, I’m really happy for you.” He smiles.

You don’t know what else to say.

Taehyung wants to say so many things.

He takes a step back toward the door. “Just wanted to see how you were doing, check if you were doing okay.”

With that, you nod, flashing him another polite smile. He returns one, a look in his eye you can’t quite decipher, as you watch him open the door, walk out and disappear from your line of sight.

You look down at your coffees, briefly thinking that you were glad they were cold and not hot, because they’d be cold by now if they were. You inhale deeply, let out a sigh like you’ve been holding your breath the entire time, desperate for a breath of air.

You leave out the door then, but before you can get very far a small envelope on the concrete catches your attention. You pick it up, wondering if Taehyung had dropped it, looking in both directions but he’s nowhere to be seen. You don’t have his number; you have no way to find him to return it, either. That was preferable, though.

Right?

Still, you pick it up, flipping it over to the front to see that your name is written there. It was a letter, addressed to you. You blink rapidly, look up in front of you again in confusion. Had he left it there on purpose? Had he meant to give it to you by hand but decided not to? You pull the wrinkled paper from its sleeve.

You tighten the old, crumpled paper in your fist. The breath you take to calm yourself is shaky, and your entire face feels like it’s stuck. You don’t even know how to process the words you’d just read.

You don’t know if you want to.

This damaged person that Taehyung claims to know doesn't exist anymore.

That girl was dead to you. Long gone.

Someone you don't want to remember.

It’s then that your phone rings, and you struggle a little to dig it out the pocket of your jacket staring at the contact image of your fiancé on the screen. You let it buzz a few times more before you answer, the piece of paper resting between your fingers.

“Baby,” he whines playfully through your device, “What’s the hold up? I wanna spend my lunch break with you, not with the moaning beluga with horrifically grown out roots.”  

You can hear Jimin whine loudly in the background, and it makes you laugh, even though your eyes are stinging with tears. You suck in a breath and wipe at your cheeks. “I love you, Jungkook” You tell him.

Over the office Jungkook makes a confused sound, pulling the phone from his ear to look at the screen as if you’re able to see him. “I love you too?” He scoffs light-heartedly, shaking his head like you’re crazy, but he can’t deny it makes his heart swell all the same, and he smiles so big his cheeks start to hurt.

You tell him you’re just around the corner, and he insists on staying on the phone until he sees your face. You hold your phone with your shoulder, balling the piece of paper up in your fist before you toss it into a nearby bin. You tease him all the way there, bickering with Jimin who steals the phone away to scold you for stealing him away.

You find your feet moving a little faster, picking up your pace towards Jungkook's workplace building— towards your future.

©jigglyjeon 2025 all rights reserved

You were beginning to wonder why your actions were so painful to everyone, especially when it was your reputation that was being squandered with, not theirs. Truthfully you thought you were going to be showered with support from them, you still refused to be mad at them. You just wanted them back in your life. Maybe you were desperate.

Was it so bad to want a friend to rely upon?

You spend the rest of the lecture chewing on the back of your pen, twisting the rings around your fingers and braiding small strands of your hair. You’re one of the last people to leave the lecture hall because you hate the traffic that ensues the moment the room is dismissed; you absolutely hate pushing past people, knocking shoulders with someone who’s subconsciously fighting to get out the door before you do. You never understood why people did it, but all you knew was that it was something you hated. Patience came easy to you, but it was a foreign concept in the eyes of most, you’d noticed.

You don’t expect Taehyung to be waiting in the courtyard, cigarette between his lips as he sits on one of the benches. He nods and grins politely when someone gives him a dirty look and mutters something under their breath. He salutes, “Have a fantastic day, darling.” And she carries on by him with the same judgemental looks on her face.

He finds you soon after, coming toward him with your arms folded shyly against your chest. He raises his brows in greeting, tossing the cigarette to the concrete and putting it out with his shoe. “Hey doll, how you holdin’ up?”

You lift your arms, returning them in their crossed position. Taehyung motions you over with an outstretched arm, his other sitting cooly in the pocket of his jacket as you turn into the side hug he offers. “I feel like I’m being punished, probably.” You shrug, “Jungkook told me last night that he has feelings for me, and this morning he was gone before I even woke up, which is weird because he doesn’t start work until nine-thirty in the morning and I woke up at seven for my morning lecture.”

Taehyung lets out a low whistle, he turns, walking slow alongside your small steps. “Must’ve been some confession.”

“It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant moment.”

“How did it make you feel? Y’know, like…what did he say?”

You suck in a breath when you think back to that moment. How with each word spoken, hidden feelings and truths revealing themselves, the volume climbed, and the tone of the moment had intensified. You’ve fought with Jungkook more in the past week and a half than you have in almost two years of knowing him.

“He just–“ Your hand slithers to the back of your neck, you don’t know where to put them; your cold fingers rubbing against the warmth of your skin, sending a chill down your spine. “We were sort of arguing, and he sort just… I have feelings for you Y/N!”

Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose, “That man has absolutely no game when it comes to you.” He mutters to himself before he looks back up at you. “I’m sure he’s just avoiding you because he’s embarrassed, too.”

You hum, “Perhaps.”

He shuffles in front of you to stop you in your tracks. “You look like you need coffee.” He says after a best of silence, “We can sit, and you can vent, and we can figure it all out together.” He removes a hand from his pocket to tap your arm, letting it swing back by his side. “Wanna?”

You look up at Taehyung curiously, searching his features that are hard, yet the gentle smile he offers you softens them subtly. There are parts of him that remind you an awful lot of Jungkook when you first met him. Jungkook was a little more sensitive, had a shorter fuse for lack of better words; it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, to feel so much— it was one of the things about him that you appreciated.

Here’s what you knew about Taehyung: He and Jungkook worked out together, like a lot. You know so not only because you’ve watched his build change from slim and fit to lean and bulky. Not only that, but Jungkook would return from the gym boasting about how much more weight he bench-pressed than Taehyung that day. Competitive— Taehyung was competitive, and you think that’s why he and Jungkook had so much fun together; because Taehyung didn’t give up and he’d put up a good fight. Taehyung was a silent observer. He spent a lot of time watching interactions between other people, his group of friends included, rather than involving himself in the interaction. He dissected body language, could read others like a book. That was slightly intimidating.

He did it now; sitting across from you, as he watched you sip on the iced coffee that he’d offered to pay for. Another thing about Taehyung was actually quite a gentleman, you never thought anything of it though. He pulls out your chair whenever you’re around to let you sit down before him, he had done so just moments prior when he handed you your drink and ushered you toward a nearby table. You’ve seen the way he offers up his spot in line for the elderly, children or women. You’d never seen anything quite like it, in all honesty. He’s nonchalant about it, too. Like it was normal. You’re starting to think that he’s a time traveller. Your eyes widen at the prospect.

“What?” He kinks a brow at you.

“Nothing.” You flash him a cheesy grin, “I sometimes just think you’re not even real.”

“…What?”

It’s not kind to compare people, is the thought you have following the one you have the moment he glares at you like you’re strange— Jungkook would have indulged you in a moment like this. He would’ve barred that charming half grin of his, lean in closer like you’re about to tell him the most interesting secret. He would’ve laughed with you, not at you.

You set down your coffee, releasing a defeated puff through your lips. “I want you to be straight with me, Tae.” You cut right to the chase. “Was what I did really that bad?”

“The way I see it, it’s been the ultimate test of friendship and loyalty.” He shrugs like it wasn’t the most hard-hitting thing he’s said to you all day. “Weeds out the fake ones.”

“I honestly think you’re the victim in all of this, it was your body and your picture after all.”

You look down, slowly nodding as you take in the weight of his words. A part of you already knew he was right, but the people-pleasing part of you wanted to see things from another point of view. “I don’t know, I think I still wish I made different decisions.”

“I get it, shits hard. Feelings suck; people suck— life’s unfair.”  His fingers tap against the table, pulling his back off the chair. You whine, your face falling into your hands. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

The moment he stops the car; he’s already getting out and rushing over to the passenger’s side before you can even reach for the door handle. You snort, slump back into the seat, when he opens the door, he offers a boxy grin that makes you roll your eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of opening a car door, you know?”  

“Sure you are, doll. But look at it this way; why do anything if someone else can do it for you?”

With that you climb out of the car, inhaling deeply when the air hits your face again, there was nothing quite like it; when you’re starting to feel a little too warm, and the freshness of the air is crispy and clean against your hot cheeks. It makes you smile, and you take slow steps toward the front door to the complex, Taehyung stops just below the few steps, holding onto the railing.

“I know we don’t know eachother that well, but” He moves up the steps, inching closer, stopping just below where you stood.  “–I’m here if you ever need me.”

His scent was soft; aldehydic and comforting in a way a storm was on a Sunday night, curling up in bed with your window cracked open just slightly. You take a step back, but he fills the space you leave the moment you move. You blink up at him as his eyes flicker over your features.

A car door slamming shut makes you jump, pulling you both from the moment. Strange.

Taehyung turns with a furrowed brow, but it relaxes the moment he sees who comes toward them, satchel slung over his shoulder, the sleeves of his dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows. He shakes his hair with his hand, stops in his tracks when looks up at the two people blocking his way inside.

He blinks, first at Taehyung and then at you. He deflates, looking like a kicked puppy when you look down the moment his eyes meet yours. “What are you doing here?” Is the first thought that slips out.

“Y/N needed a friend.” He shrugs cooly, moving past Jungkook with a pat to the shoulder. He flinches at the contact, a hand coming up to rub at his shoulder.

“That hurt…”  He mumbles. Jungkook back at his friend with a frustrated expression.

“Catch ya.” 

Taehyung is already walking over to the driver’s side, halfway into his car when Jungkook replies, “Yeah, see you…” He shakes his head, squeezing his shoulder. “Weird.” He mumbles.

You’re leaning against the railing with a red tinge on your cheeks. You only look up at him when he brushes your arm, opening the door for you to walk through. He had no choice but to look at you when you don’t move from your place. He regrets it the moment he sees you gleaming up at him.

“It’s getting cold,”  He breathes out. “Let’s get inside.”

With that you obey, beelining for the stairs instead of the elevator. Jungkook sighs and clambers after you.

He turns to face his steps when he catches himself watching the way your hair swayed effortlessly behind you, the way your hips followed in unison. When he notices that your dress is quite mini and how smooth your legs look, and–

Jungkook’s had a long day.

It starts when he rushes out of his bed, throwing on clothes and heading out the door ten minutes before seven in the morning to pound on Jimin’s door.  

Jimin never answered his call last night, or his texts. He left a hefty number of messages only for them to go unread. He already knew his night would be a sleepless one, but Jimin’s message only weighed on him even more. He rushed out the door that morning, his socks mismatched, his hair unruly and he throws a vest over a t-shirt, and he just looks awful.

Of course he looks lively, refreshed and put together at seven in the morning. Jimin grimaces at the poor sight of his friend, ushering him inside claiming it’d be a social nightmare if his cute neighbour were to see him at his door looking like that.

“You weren’t answering me, why?” He cuts right to the chase, propping himself down at the stool by the kitchen island. “You can’t just say you know who it was and then just… vanish?”

“I believe they call that ghosting, Jungkookie.” He doesn’t appreciate the joke; he blinks at him boredly. Jimin sighs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, so no light humour before ten in the morning–“

“Hyung. This isn’t just some lighthearted thing?” His eyes follow his older friend as he scurries through the kitchen, grabbing a tea towel and wiping down the spot in front of Jungkook. He tosses the towel aside with a huff.

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s all fucked up and ironic and honestly, I enjoy holding such a valuable piece of information.” He shrugs.

“Are you about to blackmail me?”

“No, no–“ He shakes his head and hands with brief upside-down smile. “I just think it’ll cause more harm than good for you to know right now.”

“Don’t tell me we know this person?” Jungkook leans forward against the tabletop, a stern look on his face. “How do you even know who did it in the first place?”

Jimin looks away, anywhere else really, besides Jungkook. He scratches the back of his neck as he peers at the ceiling fan.

Jungkook sighs, rubbing harshly at his tired eyes. “I told Y/N how I felt last night, after we got home.”

“Wait,” He’s moving again, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet above the sink, the clink against the marble an unpleasant sound. “You mean to tell me that you dropped your feelings on her, after she committed social suicide by showing up when it was way too soon for her to face her friends?” Jimin raises his brow.

“Hyung.” He runs a hand over his face. “Yeah. Shit, I– yeah, I did.”

“You haven’t changed one bit, Jungkookie.” He laughs dryly. “How did she take it?”

“She sort of dodged it all, to be honest. I still don’t know how she feels, just said she doesn’t know.”

“Yeah dummy, how can she figure how she feels about you when everyone she loves thinks she’s a desperate slut?”

“Can you watch your mouth, Jimin?” He scowls at the blond, who just clicks his tongue in return. He turns his back to make the both of them coffee.

He returns in front of him with a black coffee, the way Jungkook liked it, sipping on his own. “Do you want my advice, or what?”

“Please.” Jungkook snorts, bringing the steaming liquid past his lips.

“Just keep showing her you love her, stop hooking up with that Yuri chick and show her you mean what you said. I promise you won’t die if you don’t have sex.”

He’s right, and he knows that already. How can he expect you to love him when he’s running around with other girls, one you know from college no less. “I guess you’re right.”

Jimin nods, petting the top of his head “Let’s do better, Kook-ah.”

He clicks his tongue, slapping at Jimin’s wrist. “Alright, alright. Cut that shit out, though.”

The breath you let out is heavy with content the moment you walk through the door, toeing off your shoes beside the mat. You shuffle your way into the kitchen, humming to yourself softly as you scan the place for food. You hadn’t been to the store since Jungkook had gotten sick so there wasn’t much left.

Jungkook’s still near the door after he closes it behind him. He watched the way you jut out your bottom lip, murmuring curses under your breath that aren’t directed at him.

“Hey,” He calls out to you. You straighten, look over at him with your eyes all big and hopeful. “Sorry about last night, I didn’t mean to make it about me.”

You offer him a curt smile. “It’s okay,” your voice comes out as a whisper, not completely trusting what was going to come out the moment you realise he’s speaking to you. Not avoiding you

like you thought he was.

“I feel like I haven’t been a very good friend to you lately.” He throws the strap of his bag over her head and plops it onto the couch, himself following shortly after. You lift a hand, shaking your head.

“I just want to go back to the way life was before this all happened.”

Jungkook bites his lip and nods, his boba eyes don’t hide that your words feel personal, and that sting when he thinks about the fact that you want to forget about everything. Do you mean you want to forget his confession, too? Was it selfish that he didn’t want you to forget that part?

“Wanna get takeout and watch Sleepy Hollow?” You beam at him, as if you didn’t just chew up his chances and spit them back out. But it wasn’t like Jungkook to give up. So, he doesn’t.

“Can we get pizza?” He counters with a cheesy grin.

And it feels nice, snuggled up beside him beneath a warm blanket and a belly full of cheesy carbs. It does however make you sleepy. Jungkook doesn’t want to ask you to move so he can grab another slice, and besides, when he looks down at you and you yawn softly, he forgets all about the pizza. He drapes his arm over you, pulls you closer, and you drop your head into his lap, turning to face the screen in hopes he would think you’re watching.

His hands do that thing that drives you crazy. They soothe up and down your arm, touch feather light yet magnetic, leaving a tingle on your skin beneath his fingertips. You feel him, as his fingers graze over the goosebumps, when he reaches your wrist, he’s sly in the way he transfers his hand onto your hip instead and squeezes tenderly. You shift, peaking up at him but he’s looking straight ahead, biting on his thumb like he’s not paying attention to you, but he is. You move onto your back, and he slides his hand beneath your shirt and stops on your tummy. You let out the smallest whimper, and the deep chuckle he lets out vibrates through you, as well.

“What is it, dove?” His eyes are heavy, dark when they peer down at you. “You wanna play?”

You moan at his words, hips bucking up just the slightest, but it’s more than enough to answer his question. His hand continues up your torso, his other pushing back your hair as he admires your pretty face. He tugs your bralette up, revealing your breasts not to his eyes but for his hands to touch, his thumb swiping over your already hardened nipples. “Jungkook…” You whine.

“Yeah, baby?” He keens when you push your cheek against his hardening cock, hidden beneath his sweats. He hisses, licking his lips as he watches your features contort in pleasure. “Wanna get you nice and wet...” He drags your shirt over your chest to reveal them, cursing under his breath when you arch your back when the air hits you. Your chest feels tight, your nipples are stiff, and he joins his other hand to squeezes and touch on you, adding to the sensation.

He looks so deeply at your tits, his lips parting. “So pretty. You my pretty girl?” He drags out, dipping his head forward, the tip of his tongue flicking at one of the stiffened peaks to garner a reaction from you. He gets it, your hand comes up to the back of his neck, carding through his hair and he hums at the feeling. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks, squeezing your other breast as his other hand trails down your stomach again.

“Yeah…m’your girl…”

“Y/N…” Your eyes are screwed shut,

“Hm?” You tense your brow, too focused on the pleasure he gave to you— too focused on the way his mouth felt on you, how his fingers played with the drawstring on your shorts.

“Y/N?”

“What?” You ask impatiently.

“Hey,” He shakes on your shoulder and your eyes shoot open, blinking up at him.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“You knocked out there for a little.” He smirks with amusement, light but knowing. Your cheeks begin to burn when your mind falls back to the moment you had with him prior— a moment you thought was real. You push yourself up from his lap so fast it makes your head spin. “You good?”

“Yep!” The pitch in your voice is a little too high for it to sound normal. The movie’s been paused since the moment you dozed off, you notice. You tilt your head, wondering what Jungkook has been doing if the movie was paused. Your eyes dart towards his lap, one hand grasping onto his phone. When you look up at his face, he’s biting on his lips to try and hide the smirk on his face. “So, you have a nice dream or what?”

You look like a deer in the headlights, the bellowing laugh he lets out is comical, but you’re too horrified to tease him about it, you don’t even have the time to react when he leans over to poke into your side. You yelp, but he’s too fast and he catches your waist to tickle you.

“Oh, Jungkook~” He teases you, and you slide onto your back, trying to wriggle out of his grips but you’re out of breath and laughing like crazy.

“Stop,” You nearly scream at how sensitive you are as he wiggles his fingers into your waist, “Stop that! I ca–can’t breathe!”

You knee him in the stomach by accident, he winces, curling in on himself and grabs at his stomach. You think he doesn’t notice that his head is far too close to your breasts than you’d like. Or maybe you’d like. Shit, you don’t know.  

Fuck.

You’re panicking. Your eyes widen again, chest heaving. You feel the throb in your panties. You gasp, pushing on his shoulders, so that you’re sitting up, but you lean too far forward as he’s trying to recover from the hit. His face is inches from yours, your hands gripping onto his shoulders because you think you’re going to fall. Jungkook’s eyes are blown out, you get lost in them; deep depths where his thoughts swim in the circles of internal battles on what to say— what to do.

His fingers twitch when he raises his hand, his movements are unsure, but he knows he’s itching to touch you. He tucks your hair behind your ear, lets his fingers graze your warm cheeks. You blink at him, the tilt in your head makes it known that that there’s cogs turning in your head. You don’t move; you don’t react at all when his hands begin exploring you in a way he never had before.

He moves down, lifting the pendant of your necklace between his fingers, letting it fall back against your heaving chest. He only lets his eyes linger on the swell of your breast for a second, but he notices the way you shift, tucking your legs gingerly beneath where you sat, propped up on your knees. The apartment is silent, bar the sound of his breaths melding with yours, the way your let your eyes drop, following his wandering hand.

Now yours move, too. From his shoulders, up his neck and to cup his face. He doesn’t look at you though, even when you move his head to face you. He just watches the way his hands drag down your arms. Relishing in how soft you feel against his slightly rough hands.

 “Kook,” you whisper. “You never pursued me.” It’s more a realisation than a question. He looks up at you now. Your eyes are asking him why he chose to sleep with Yuri, pursue Yuri in such a surface level way.

Jungkook was always respectful, a nice guy— but he wasn’t impartial to casual sex. It was clear in the late nights you’d accidentally run into Yuri in the kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt. It wasn’t like there was a new girl in his bed all the time, but if he claimed to like you, why sleep with her when you were in the room next door? But alas, you settle for a simple. “Why?”

He leans into your palm, shutting his eyes for a moment as he inhales sharply through his mouth. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

Your hands slip from his face, sliding down to his chest. “Is it?” You wonder, “Is it really that complicated?”

Jungkook licks his lips, but he lifts one of your hands from his chest just to intertwine your fingers.

“You’re not just another girl to me.” He admits, “I’ve had girlfriends, situationships, hell I’ve had plenty of friends, even.” You snort at the way he flexes that, and he chuckles shyly. You know he didn’t mean for it to sound like some sort of boastful thing. “None of them have seen me the way you’ve seen me. The way you listen, you retain, and you remember. You comfort and you nurture and you’re so full of love.”

You chew on your bottom lip, not anticipating how much his words would hit you straight through the heart. “No one else does it for me, dove. That’s why I’d do anything to keep you in my life. Even if that meant I never got to have you that way I want.”

“What if you can?” You rise from your knees slightly, shuffle closer to him.

“I can what?” You’ve never seen his pupils get so big, but to be fair, you’ve never really allowed yourself to look so deeply into them. Even though you knew they were beautiful, knew how welcoming and full of warmth they were.

“What if you can have me the way that you want?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, you don’t think he’s going to as you lean closer, dip your head at an angle as your lips brush his. But the moment you send it, think you’re going to feel his lips for the first time, he pulls back, only a little but enough to create space. “Then I’d want you to be sure.” He whispers, looking down.

You must admit that it hurts to be rejected this way. You wonder if this is how Jungkook has felt with you for so long. “If you really mean that, then you can have me. Hell, you already do—always have.”

“I just…you’re too important to me. I wouldn’t want to rush anything and risk losing you altogether.” His expression is sorrowful when he looks at you again. You try to hide the way your face naturally expresses itself and replace your pout with a smile instead.

“Don’t be sad, dove.” He huffs an amused breath, tilting your chin up when you look down. You feel embarrassed.

“I want to kiss you, so bad it hurts.” He assures you, he leans in, and you close your eyes. Wince when his lips touch your cheek. “So, let’s make a deal. If you still want to kiss me by the end of next week, then I’ll know you meant what you said.” Because was two weeks more? That felt like mere moments to him.

But to you…

“Okay.” you fall back, plopping down onto the couch begrudgingly.

“What happened to patience is a virtue, hm?” He bops you on the nose and you roll your eyes.

“Can we just finish the movie?” You grumble, "I'm tired." He hums softly as he scoots closer to you, even when you lean away from him, pretending that you don’t melt when he pulls you back into his side.

It was the most normal you had felt in days, even if you were venturing into new territory with your roommate.

©jigglyjeon 2025 all rights reserved

“Can you pick up the a pace a little bit, chicken legs?” Jimin calls out to you, when you look over at him with a sharp glare, Jungkook slaps the back of his hand against his chest. He lets out an ‘oof’, coughing dramatically and clutching at his chest. Jungkook points at you, then gives you a thumbs up, asking if you’re okay.

You flash him a tight smile, stretching your arms before you make your way toward them. You ignore the way Jimin whines about how slow you’re being, but Jungkook is quick to your aid, scolding him whenever he had something to complain about. You playfully bump into his side, and he throws an arm over your shoulder. 

“Oh, hell no.” Jimin exclaims from behind you. Jungkook makes sure to look over his shoulder right at him when he presses his lips against your temple; it’s casual and used to tease Jimin sure, but it makes you flustered all the same. “This is insufferable, and I don’t need this energy in my life right now.” He points between you both, sassily taking long strides forehead to move ahead of you and Jungkook. He hikes on ahead, leaving the two of you alone together.

On purpose.

Jungkook has since dropped his arm from your shoulder, and you hold your hands behind your back. When you look up at him and catch his eye, he huffs through his nose with a shy smile, and you chuckle nervously. 

“So, did I tell you about that office party?”

No, he hadn’t. You’re not sure he ever intended on it – telling you that is – but the tension was thick. You can see the slight panic growing in his eyes, they always grew bigger and glossier when he was feeling nervous, as he claws at a point of conversation to break the awkwardness in the air. He probably had assumed you were done with socialising after what had happened last time. 

You shake your head, chewing on your bottom lip as your fingers fiddle behind you. 

“Oh, well. It’s tomorrow night. I don’t even think I want to go, though.” He shrugs, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He looks ahead at Jimin who runs into an unsuspecting stray branch, and he blinks at him when he starts pointing at it and scolding as if it were him. He slaps the branch away, thinking he’s got the last of it, but it rebounds and hits his back. Jungkook looks down at the bark beneath his feet, fighting off a laugh.

You’re too busy in your thoughts to notice anything that’s going on around you. All you can think about is the way your arms brush his every now and then, because you never can just walk straight and always at an angle. Jungkook smiles every time you bump him lightly.

“Ah. Why not?” You ask.

Jungkook shrugs. “It’ll probably be boring, they usually are.”

It’s only half a lie. Some of them are boring, but some of them have been the most interesting nights of his mid-twenties. He had always brought Taehyung as a guest, and he was always the most theatrical drunk. There was a point in the night all Jungkook wanted to do was sing karaoke, even when nobody was left nor were they indulging in it alongside him. And Jimin…well, Jimin was Jimin— drunk or not.

“I’d rather hang out with you.” He smiles at you.

You don’t return it, and his curled-up lips slightly falter when he can’t figure out your expression. You pucker your lips and nod slow. “Hm.”

“What if you go and I come with you?” You ask, and he blinks at you.

“Um”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Sure. If you want that, dove.” He’s dumfounded; you can tell. You could tell by the way he dragged out his words, chose them carefully when it could dial back to that bad memory. Honestly, you didn’t know if you thought that was kind or if it was offensive. You didn’t need to be coddled, but Jungkook is trying his best and that wasn’t fair to expect him to read your mind. You know how much he cares about you.

“We better go, I’m worried Jimin is going to fight with more of the foliage if we leave him alone any longer.”

Back at the car, you lean against the boot, looking up at the sky as Jimin stands a few feet away, his arms crossed and foot tapping against the dirt. You’re waiting for Jungkook to come back from the restroom, and neither of you know what to talk about.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel comfortable around Jimin. That hadn’t ever been the case with how easily he slotted you into ‘I’m gonna pick you apart verbally and call out all your wrong doings’ category – which according to Jungkook meant that he liked you –  it was more so the fact that he stared at you with narrowed eyes, glaring so sharply at you that you feel like the first layer of your skin was begging to shred off. Maybe it was the sun burning your face. You’re glad you’re adamant about your daily sunscreen application in this moment.

The sky wasn’t particularly that interesting, either. There’s like, no clouds up there— just a light blue abyss. It wasn’t all that exciting; the colour was nice maybe? Are you sweating?

“Stop ignoring me, I know you know that I’m looking at you.”

You squint when you pull your neck down, you rub the back of it because it’s kind of stiff from looking up for too long. “Hm?”

“Don’t act clueless,” Jimin raises a sharp brow, “It’s not gonna work on me.”

You groan, throwing your arms up in defeat. “What do you want from me?” You whine, stomping your foot dramatic, pouting like you’re having a temper tantrum akin to a toddler. His lip curls in a grimace at your attempt of being cute. Jungkook was buying this? He snorts at the thought of that.

“I just want to know if you plan on being serious.” He loosens his harshness with a shrug, letting his arms fall to his sides.

“With?” You lean back against the car again, resting your palms behind you.

“Like, are you serious about Jungkookie or are you not?”

Your entire body freezes and tightens, not expecting a weighted lecture from your roommate’s best friend about whether you are taking – whatever it is that’s going between you and Jungkook – seriously, at nine in the morning. “I would never do anything to hurt Jungkook.” You furrow your brows, kind of offended that Jimin would even insinuate that. “I care about him a lot.”

“Yeah, you do keep saying that.” He shifts his gaze, nodding in consideration. “So, then why were you with Taehyung the other day?”

“How do you know I was with Taehyung?” You push yourself off the car, crossing your arms with a lifted brow.

“Jungkook told me.”

Right. Jungkook.

He had seen you on the front steps the other day when Taehyung was dropping you off. There was something off about the whole interaction, and you haven’t spoken to Taehyung since. Granted, so much as happened within that time span— you had almost kissed Jungkook, for crying out loud.

And he didn’t even let you.

It was cruel. But you supposed you understood, for so long you hadn’t allowed yourself to indulge in feeling anything past a best friend for him. You couldn’t date someone while you were taking pictures for strangers, it was against your morals. That, and you weren’t exactly sure just how serious Jungkook would be about you. You liked the place you shared with him, but most of all you really cherished the friendship that had blossomed between you and him.

Maybe it was okay to explore something more, maybe he was the one for you. What was life if not to try new things even when you’re scared that might fall apart? Jungkook was good to you, and he always tried his best to be. It was clear in every word he said, and in every move he made. His actions always spoke volumes to you the most.

Perhaps you went out of your way to make him happy because you’ve felt the same.

Jungkook comes back before you can explain yourself to Jimin, that Taehyung was there for you when nobody gave you the time of day. He had only spent a few hours with you to help you feel better. It wasn’t anything weird, you didn’t have intentions with him or anything like that. He drops of Jimin and drives you back the apartment, the radio filling any spaces of quiet when your conversations ended naturally. He pinches your leg when he spots a yellow car, and you hit him a little too hard in retaliation, but he laughs so hard, it makes you smile.

He was right about joining them this morning— it did make you feel good.

Now that you’re let your feelings flow freely for the first time in a long time, all those small things you ignored before had hit your harder than ever. The two of you spend the rest of the day inside, and it was peaceful up until the late afternoon, just before dinner. He emerges out of his room; a towel is low on his waste and his shoulders are sprinkled with droplets of water he never got to dry off. His hair is wet, and the way he pushes it back when he enters the kitchen is lethal. His back faces you to open up the pantry, the muscles in his back subtly flexing and tensing as he rummages through. He’s done this so many times before.

Why did you feel so guilty looking at him now?

“I think I’m gonna make some kimchi fried rice.” He announces, and when he turns to face you, he just captures the way you shut your unhinged jaw. You look away as you start to blush. He smirks, “Careful, dove. Might catch a few flies.”

“That sounds fine.” You ignore his comment, pushing yourself up off the couch, scurrying toward your bedroom. “Gonna go study a little bit.” You mutter. He hums in acknowledgement as he moves around in the kitchen to make the both of you dinner. It’s all very normal, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary— to him, anyway.

In your room you’re staring at your laptop, struggling to bring yourself to gather your thoughts as they scatter around in your brain like strobe lights at a rave. Which only makes your head pound as a reminder of the habits you had in your early twenties, just prior to becoming Jungkook’s roommate. You couldn’t be further detached from that persona now, or that’s how you see it anyway. You use a lot of your old rave stuff to take pictures— well not anymore. “Ugh,” you slap your hands over your hot cheeks, trying to move on from the bad memories that continue to plague your mind. Somehow it always creeps its way back into there uninvited, even having deactivated and deleted your account ever since that dreadful dinner.

You do, however, plan to actually get some work done, you wanted to be a at least a little productive this weekend. You hated when the work piled up and you had it do it all at once, because then you’re grumpy and have no time to blow off some steam with your friends.

Your friends.

You wonder what they were doing this weekend. Do they miss you, too?

You shake the thought from your head, your fingers hovering over the keys, tapping against them mindlessly as you try for a decent way to start your essay. Usually you would spurt nonsense, add a couple of credible sources and fiddle with the end result once you’re done with it. In other words, it usually came easy to you, but you can’t even bring yourself to type even a word.

Not when you know Jungkook is cooking your dinner with a towel low on his waist. Did he even bother to pull on a pair of boxers? Your mind conjures up the image of him again, of you and him on the couch, but this time you wonder what would happen if he were just in his towel.

There you go, objectifying him again. You sigh, bowing your head with an annoyed groan. You haven’t been this fired up since you watched that re-run of 21 Jump Street at four in the morning when nothing else was on. And yes, you do mean the late 80’s television series that starred Johnny Depp. That was nearly a year ago now.

You had to admit it to yourself at least, that you were hard to get. You weren’t that easy to please, and a pretty face wasn’t enough to pique your interest. Not these days, not when you’re so focused on finishing school and kickstarting your career. You weren’t entirely aware of your surroundings, weren’t much of a people watcher when it came to strangers. It was more your thing to walk around with a pair of headphones and disappear from the world. When your friends used to point out someone was attractive when you were out in public, you would admit to them you hadn’t even noticed. 

You never did a double take at the cute guy behind you in line at the university coffee shop, and you didn’t prolong that eye contact with the guy sizing you up at the party. Whether it was because your heart was reserved for someone else is uncertain, because you’re so shut off to the idea of pursuing romance that you probably wouldn’t even notice if it was staring you in the face.

When you looked into Jungkook’s eyes that night, when you leaned in to feel his lips…it was one of the most intense feelings you had felt in a long time. Like you had finally taken off the glasses you’ve worn around him your entire friendship, the ones that never allowed you to look beyond just that— friendship.

You felt hypocritical checking him out now, when you never have before, because you knew how it felt to be objectified without your knowledge. Suddenly you understand what it’s like being on the other end of the stick. It was humbling, to say the least.

With a frown you shut your laptop, accepting that you just weren’t going to be getting anything done. Not when you were preoccupied, not when you really wanted to let off some steam. Instead, you stare at your door that’s slightly cracked open.

You wonder if you should get up and close it, but you put your laptop on your nightstand and flop back onto your bed. You pull your pillow over your face and scream into its softness, muting your frustration.  You stare at the ceiling, and your hands wander down your torso…

“Y/N? It’s done!” He calls, causing you spring up from your bed with a gasp.

You slide off your bed, clearing your throat. You tell yourself to act nonchalant, like you weren’t just about to touch yourself with your door open. You discover quickly that you’re not that great at it, because you’re as stiff as a rock when you waddle into the kitchen, avoiding looking at him entirely as you sit on your knees at the coffee table by the TV. Where you always ate. When he joins you, you learn that he has since thrown on clothes and you were grateful for that. You don’t think you would be able to handle it if he hadn’t.

He eyes you carefully when he places your bowl in front of you, staring down at the food. Your hands stay glued to your thighs; your smile is hollow, and the sound of your stomach grumbling breaks the silence first. He takes his first bite warily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yep!” You chirp, looking up at him, but not really because your gaze moves straight past him. “Just waiting for you to kiss– eat! Waiting for you to eat first.”

Jungkook blinks at you, and there’s a grin that’s slowly tugging at the corners of his lips.

How the hell were you meant to bounce back from that?

You take the bowl in your hands, push a spoonful into your mouth. Your shoulders slump and you hold your bowl so close to your face it’s practically inside of it. You’ll chew for longer, you think, and maybe then you won’t say anything else humiliating. 

“Cute.” He laughs under his breath. He takes another bite, looking chirpy when he puts the bowl down on the table. He props his shoulders on the table, rubbing his hands together. “You still want to kiss me, huh?”

Your eyes could fall out of their sockets with how wide they had gotten at his words. How could he be so forward? Can’t he see how red you’ve gotten! How embarrassing that was? You don’t want to admit that your frustration is just a front; your heart races and you think your brows are tightened and scrunched together but they’re lowered, and your eyes are softer than you think they are as they stare at him. You part your lips, shutting them like a fish out of water, grasping for air.

Instead, you’re grasping on for your sanity because the way he’s so clearly flirting with you, purposefully pushing your buttons to make you look at him— well, it works.

Clearly.

Consider your buttons pushed.

“Jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him. “Drop it right now.”

He sighs, leaning over the table, forefinger rests on your chin, tilting your face up slightly when his thumb swipes against the corner of your lip. His gaze, and his thumb alike, linger on you for longer than necessary. You watch him in anticipation, but also because your words are caught in your throat; you’re too flustered to throw another playful quip his way.

“Nah.” His features crinkle up playfully, removing his hand from you and leaning back on his spot. “I like it when you blush because of me.” He flashes the most heart-throbbing smile your way, and it doesn’t falter when he picks his bowl back up, taking another large bite of his food.

You roll your eyes, grumpily doing the same. “Thank you for dinner.” You grumble.

“It’s no biggie. I like taking care of you.”

He’s so casual about it, when he says things so sweet they’d make your teeth ache. Has he always been this way or was he relishing in the fact that you’re starting to admit that you like him too? Because you do. You do like him.

A lot more than you thought, because it makes you smile shyly into your spoon. Taking small peaks at each other as you finish off your dinner in comfortable silence.

When Sunday night rolls around, you’re rushing around your room, tearing your closet apart as you get ready for the work function you had invited yourself to yesterday morning. You didn’t go to any previous ones, only heard stories from Jungkook whenever he stumbled home a little bit drunk, or in the morning when you were making him soup to cure his hangover. They were hit or miss, but the key to these functions, according to Jungkook, was to get drunk either way.

You weren’t going to argue with that.

He walks toward your room, adjusting the silver watch on his wrist to check if you’re nearly done getting ready. He’s stopped in front of your door when he’s distracted by the sight of you, can you catch sight of him gawking shamelessly at you through the reflection in the mirror. You snort, turning around to face him.

“Is this okay?” You ponder, not fully sure about the basic little black skirt you’ve thrown on, your top matching in colour. The long sleeves flare out toward the ends adding a little more character to the outfit. “Is it too simple?”

You didn’t mean to match him, completely unaware he too had gone for an all-black appearance. Or maybe subconsciously you did? You knew it was the colour he gravitated toward the most. His black compression top accompanied his baggy black jeans, a chunky pair of boots peeking out from beneath the hem.

“You look good.” He settles for, fighting the desire to shower you with every positive comment under the sun. And the way your legs looked beneath those sheer black tights.

That was dangerous territory, and he thinks you know that.

Ever since knowing him each time you pulled out the mini dress/skirt and tights combo, he had always been particularly touchy with you, more than usual. Hand on your knee, arm over your lower back; he’d search for every decent way you claim you amongst other predatory gazes, silently claim you even though you had never been his.

But to everyone he knew…you had always been off limits. Silently praying for the day he could hold you close to him and make it known to everyone else, too.

He flashes a crooked smile, he takes a step toward you, slow. “We look good.”

You’re about to scold him about tracking his shoes around on your carpet, but he reaches down for your hand, taking your hand lightly in his. He lifts your arm above you. “Look at my girl.” He exhales sharply, making you giggle.

“It wasn’t my intention to match with you.” You smile brightly at him, teasingly pushing at his chest. You turn to face the mirror again, to touch up at your appearance, give yourself another look at your outfit but discover the way Jungkook is raking half-lidded eyes over the curvatures of your body. You bite your lip, pretending not to notice. “We do, though.” You admit as he steps closer, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We look like a couple.”  He whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath warm and his voice sultry, the words sliding off his tongue smoothly. Wrapping his arms around you in a loose embrace. You tut in faux annoyance, pushing him off of you as you go to look for shoes to wear.

He sits at the edge of your bed, watching as you drop carefully to your knees, tugging your skirt down as to not flash him. He looks away anyway, his attempt at being chivalrous, he supposes. He rambles on, “I know I said we should take our time, but if you’re going to be looking like this all night…”

“I might just have to kiss you first.”

You freeze with a pair of doc martens in your grip. You scold him under your breath, scuttering out of your room as he strides after you, eyeing you off as you hop into your doc martens with a bit of struggle. He grabs the keys of the kitchen counter leading you out and toward the car, promising you that he won’t drink tonight so that you could have a little bit of fun and have a designated driver. It only made sense.

You and Jungkook are the last people to arrive – you never liked turning up too early – and are greeted by a multitude of cheers the moment familiar eyes spot you coming through the front doors. Before you can really react, Jimin is clapping Jungkook on his broad shoulders, dragging him over to the pool table, leaving you awkward standing by the front door.

“I’ll come find you later. Try to have some fun, dove!” He calls over the blaring music, leaving you on your lonesome.

Not for long though, because Jia and Hanna are waving you over the moment you spot them looking right at you. “Y/N!” Hanna waves you over, both her and Jia riddled with excited smiles. You’re wary when you walk toward them, your hands fiddling in front of you nervously. The moment you get close they both squeal with excitement, pulling you in for an unexpected group hug.

“It’s feels like it’s been forever!” Hanna pouts, looking at Jia.

“Yeah, we’re really sorry. We didn’t really react all that well, did we?” Jia chimes in, a guilty melding into her features.   

You think you’re having one of those light bulb moments. You’ve spent nearly half the month wanting this moment to happen. Wanting them to say sorry, that they should’ve been there for you when you needed them the most, that having them by your side would have made things easier. But in turn, you’re realising something; they were so quick to abandon you— judge you, even.

Especially when there were people who were on your side. You part your lips in a sharp inhale, exhaling calmly through your nose as you smile at them. “Thank you.” Is all you say.

A hand snaking around your lower back makes you gasp, but when you look up to see its Taehyung, you relax. “Hey, doll.”

“Hi” You grin back wider, excusing yourself from your friends, or perhaps the friends that used to be. All was forgiven, and that was all that mattered in that moment to you. You felt lighter now, your shoulders straighten up as Taehyung leads you away, and you sit on the couch in the living room.

“You and the posse back together again?” He teases, fiddling with the wrapper of a piece of gum, he offers you one, but you decline with a wave of your hands.

“I don’t know…” you sigh, leaning back, peaking over at them from the corner of your eye. They’re laughing and smiling together, doing that thing that they always did at parties; the thing that all three of you used to do. Analyse everyone in the room. You were simply part of the heads in the room, now, and for the first time in a while, you feel okay about that.

“You’re better off, I reckon.” He shrugs, casually throwing an arm along the back of the sofa behind you. “Better than them.”

“It’s not that,” you laugh humourlessly, “They lost faith in me, changed their perception of me without a second thought.” You nod, as if coming to terms with it for the first time. In a way, you are, and the more you sit with the idea of that the happier you are to let them go.

“I never changed my perception of you.” Taehyung moves his arm. From around you, placing his warm hand on your knee. He taps, leans over to look down at you with an even warmer smile.

You nod, “Exactly!”

From across the room Jimin is burning holes through your head into Taehyung’s skull. He can’t help but think the two of you look way too close for comfort, and that set him on fire.

He had to act fast when Jungkook frowned at him “What’s wrong?” He asks, going to turn around by Jimin aims his pool stick straight into Jungkook’s chest.

“It’s your turn– do you need a drink? I need a drink.” Jimin’s tone of voice raises higher with each word, and he speaks too fast for it all to seem normal. He ignores the younger boys strange glare, pushing him toward the table as he rushes off toward you and Taehyung. He scoffs, leans over the table and prepares to make his play.

He looms over you like a storm cloud. Taehyung moves his hand as if he’s touched a fire, rubbing the back of his head. You tilt your head, looking up at Taehyung’s line of sight.

“Jesus Christ,” your body jolts in surprise, clutching at your chest. “A simple ‘hello’ would have been nice.”

“I need to talk with you, like– now.” He seethes between his teeth, grabbing your arm and lifting you off the sofa. Taehyung just leans back cooly against the couch when you stutter confusedly, and you give Taehyung a look for help, but he instead leans back against the couch cooly with a shrug.

Jungkook is mid-conversation with his other co-workers, turning just as Jimin is halfway across the apartment, dragging you down the hallway with a scrunched up look on his face. Jungkook’s eyes follow them until they out of sight with a dent between his brows.

He doesn’t stop until he shuts the both of you in the bathroom, flickering on every switch on the wall to produce light in the briefly dark area. He turns on all the fans as well as the lights, it was a blessing in disguise because it was noisy and maybe it will distract from your voices. The music was also kind of loud, anyway. You stand stick straight, tense and awkward as you search Jimin’s face for answers, but he throws his head back and groans a little bit too loud.

“Um? Hello?” You raise a brow.

“I need to tell you something important, okay?” He finally says, “I should have told you sooner, I think, but I just thought things were going to resolve on their own and things we’re honestly looking better for you, for Jungkook too and–”

“You’re rambling, Jimin.” You furrow your brows, crossing your arms. “Spit it out.”

“Taehyung– Y/N, you should be really careful hanging around him. He–”

“Why? He what?” Your arms fall to your sides, and you take a step toward him. The blond parts his lips, then bites on his bottom lip, reluctant to tell you what he’s about to tell you. “Jimin!”

“It was him, that’s why!” He shouts, he huffs out a breath, “He bought those photos from you, and he leaked them on that Facebook group.”

You scoff, glaring at him in disbelief. You start to shake your head and back off. “No.”

“It’s true.” He sighs, running a hand through his golden locks. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you the minute I found out.”

You spit out a sob instead of the sour laugh you intend to come out of your mouth instead. You reach for the door, throwing it opens only to run into a hard chest.

You sniffle angrily, wiping at your nose as you look up to apologise, but the words don’t come out when you see that it’s Jungkook.

He doesn’t look at you, only stares daggers straight at Jimin. You look between them. Jungkook’s jaw tenses, pursing his lips as he nods slowly. Without a word, he turns on his heel, both you and Jimin calling after him as he storms back into the living room. The calls from you and his best friends are drowned out, ears ringing as he bee lines straight for Taehyung.

He’s leaning against the wall, a beer in his hand. He lifts his bottle in acknowledgement when he sees Jungkook coming toward him, only to be greeted with his tattooed, balled up fist. Square to his jaw. His drinks fall to the floor, shatters against the tiles. There’s a mixture of hollers and screaming when Taehyung stumbles back, tripping over his own feet onto the ground. Before he can react or defend himself, Jungkook pulls him back up by the shirt.

“You’re pathetic.”

He swings his hand back again, Taehyung staring straight into his friend’s eyes as he prepares for another hit.

Your soft hands grab at his bicep, halting his movement. “Baby,” your voice shakes. He freezes at the sound. “Let’s go home.”

He shoves Taehyung back, letting you drag him toward the door.

On the drive home, you soft sniffles are the only sounds that fill the car. Each time it hits his ears is like someone rubbing salt in the wound, and his knuckles grow white with his blaringly tight grip on the steering wheel. He swerves a little too sharply, and he drives a little bit too fast. You’re just glad he never got any alcohol in him. Although, you’re not sure him being angry and driving was any safer.

You do however make it home in one piece, but he stomps out of the car, opens your car door and slams it shut when you exit the car. His boots are loud and heavy with each step he takes, with purpose and conviction as he takes the elevator instead of the stairs. You follow him in, avoiding his eye. You’re just as angry as he was, if not angrier.

“Are you upset with me?” You whisper when you exit the elevator, and he fiddles with the keys as he unlocks the door to your shared apartment. He ignores you, kicks his shoes off and chucks the keys onto the coffee table. You shuffle after him, following him around like a lost puppy. “Jungkook?”

He knew Taehyung has been acting off. He didn’t deny Taehyung had always been a flirt, that much had always been true, he was suave with women, including yourself, but he found comfort in the fact you never gave him the time of day. Jungkook liked to think that it was because you ever only had eyes for him.

“I just can’t believe that fucking–”

You hush him, reaching for his arms. You soothe your palms over his biceps, drawing them up and down in hopes to help him relax. “Hey, look at me.”

He looks down at you with dark eyes, the rage slowly melting away when he watches your sad eyes find his. Your eyes flitter down to his pink lips then back up at his softening gaze.

Jungkook had always been your protector, since day one. There was nothing and no one that could stand between how much he cared about you— loved you. From the minute you stumbled into the apartment with a box too heavy for your wobbling arms, and he quickly took it from your struggling grip and offered to bring the rest of your things up for you. Told you that pretty girls shouldn’t be doing hard work.

Whenever you were too nice to end a conversation that you weren’t comfortable in, or had simply grown tired of, he was there to fabricate the lies that unwrapped you from the sticky web you had unintentionally stuck yourself within. Scolding you over a phone call or pretending he was kidnapping you just to scare your counterpart and give you something to laugh about later.

Because whenever you were laughing or smiling, Jungkook was happy. It had only been two years, it wasn’t that long, Jungkook had known Taehyung longer than that, yet the time didn’t seem to matter anymore.

When you know you love someone, you just loved them— and that was that.

Seven years of friendship with Taehyung, and he still stabbed him in the back. He wished he knew why, still wondering what the hell he was thinking hurting you like this. There was nothing you had ever done to him to make him hate you so much. Or maybe there was. His mind was too clouded to think about the ladder right now.

“You’re my girl, right Y/N?” He whispers, his own hand coming to rest on your waist. You hum, looking up at him with such an innocent look, as if your nails down drag lightly down his chest, over his nipples. He grunts, licking his lips.

“I could be your girl,” you sigh, your hands play with the hem of his black shirt. “If you want me to be.” Your hands dip beneath the fabric, feeling his hard abdomen beneath your fingers. “Will you take good care of me, Jungkook?” You ask, a teasing glint in your eye and a suggestive tone to your voice.

“Always take care of you, dove.” He breathes, his lips pressing into your hair. He inhales, his eyes shutting softly as you touch him slowly. You grow bold with your hands, dragging them down his abdomen and toward the belt of his jeans. You tug on it, making him stumble closer to you. “Careful.” He warns, fingers wrapping carefully around your wrist.

“You said I couldn’t kiss you.” You pout. “But you never said anything about sucking your dick.”

His grip loosens, drags gently up your arms as you take off his belt, letting it drop to the ground with a thud. You unbutton his jeans, and he watches your face carefully. “Y/N, are you sure you want to–”

You drop to your knees, making him swallow his words, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. You smile impishly up at him, bottom lip between your teeth as your palms push on his thighs, back him up, making him sit down on the couch behind him. He watches you with a lustful gaze, letting you pull down the zipper, and he lifts his hips to aid you when you tug the denim down his legs.

His hand reaches out for you, tucking your hair behind your ear while your fingers trace the outline of his hard cock beneath his boxers. It twitches impatiently against your couch, and you bite your tongue when you feel a moan lingering in the back of your throat. Jungkook breathes heavily before you, watching you with dark eyes when you tug down the grey material, letting his cock spring out from its confines, raising to your attention. Jungkook smirks, carding his fingers through your hair when he notes you admiring his thickness.

“S'big.” You mumble, both your hands wrapping carefully around his length. Jungkook hisses, sinking into the couch. His features contort with pleasure when you lean forward and dart your tongue out to flick the tip over the head of his cock.

“Yeah, baby? You like it?” He runs his tongue over his teeth, watching you drag your tongue along his thick length. You drag it back up, enclosing your lips over the bulbous tip. He nearly growls, the sound rumbles within the depths of his chest as he pulls your hair back over your shoulders, holding it up with one hand in a make-shift ponytail. “Baby, baby…” He chuckles dryly, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. “Can’t believe I’ve got your pretty mouth on my cock.”

You moan, your fingers wrapped around the base as you slowly drag your lips over the top half, your tongue swirling around him, your spit pooling from your lips as you lightly suck. His fingers tighten in your hair, looking down at you, and when you look up at him through fluttered lashes he twitches in your grasp.

You remove one of your hands, rubbing his thigh as you lower your mouth, taking in more of him, as much as you can. “Y/N…” he warns but doesn’t argue when you remove your other hand, your nose hitting his pelvis.

He cries out your name again when he feels your throat contract around him. You gag slightly but still take your time dragging your mouth back up, sucking on the head of his length before doing it again. “You’re– fuck, dove.” He mutters incoherent words that you can only assume to be words of praise, blinking slowly at you as he places his free hand on top of the one you have on his thigh. He bites harshly on his lip with knitted brows as he lightly tugs you up and off his cock. “No more.” He pants, “C’mere.”

He helps you crawl up into his lap, pulling you up by your arms. Your legs are feeling weak and a little sore from being on your knees for a little too long, but when you throw your legs over each side of him and lower your hips onto his, you forget all about the soreness. His dick is angry and red, pressed against his shirt and waiting to feel your touch again.

“Always knew you’d have a pretty cock.” You admit your thoughts aloud, rounding your hips against his lap. “Felt so heavy on my tongue.”

He chuckles lowly, pulling off his shirt. He tosses it to the side, his hands roughly exploring your fully clothed body. He frowns, tugging on the end of your top. “Can I take it off? Wanna see you pretty girl.” When you nod, a little bit too enthusiastically, he peels it off your body as you hold your arms up so he can pull it over your arms and head. “Wanna see all of you.” He sighs.

He throws it in the same direction he threw his shirt and watches you gingerly as you slide the straps of your bra down your shoulders. Your eyes don’t break from his, and he watches your face closely, letting himself get lost in you. Reminding himself that this wasn’t a dream. You were really here, needing him— wanting him. His fingers dragging patiently up and down your back, and even when you drop your bra behind you after you unclasp it from the back, he still smiles at you, cupping your cheek.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” He whispers like if he spoke any louder, he might wake up. You might slip through his fingers, like all those maybe’s and almost’s he clung to before this moment. “Can’t believe you’re choosing me.”

“I’ve always chosen you Jungkook,” the moment feels melancholic, and there’s a twinge of guilt in your eye that he’s too glad that this moment is true to pinpoint. But you know it’s there, you feel it inside of you, because you set him aside in ways you didn’t even realise until you looked at him now. “I’m just…” you roll your eyes away in search for the right words, “Choosing you again.”

He laughs at that, and it’s only when it dies down that he looks down at your bare chest, he sucks in a breath, letting his hands climb your stomach, letting them rest just beneath the juncture of your breasts. He leans forward, and your eyes flutter shut when you feel his lips on your neck, swiping his tongue over your skin, lowering them dangerously close to where you want them.

You release a needy sigh when his thumb swipes over your nipple, stiffening under his brief touch. He kisses the tops of your breasts sweetly, then wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks harshly.

“Oh, Jung– ah!” you gasp, the sound is borderline pornographic as you grind into him. You shuffle up off his knee and higher up to lower yourself where his cock rests, the material of your panties rubbing against his erect member. He flicks quickly at your other nipple, making out with your other so messily that you shiver when he pulls his mouth away. The air feels cold against your wet tit and there’s a wild look in his eye when he meets your blissful gaze. You focus on rubbing yourself against him, and his hand climbs from your breast to wrap around your neck. You grind down hard on him and it makes him freeze, his fingers flexing around your throat. You halt your hips, blinking at him when he shuts his eyes with an annoyed groan.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You pout, your gentle hands rubbing at his chest. He’s eyes flicker to where your clothed cunt presses against his cock, then looks back up at you wordlessly.

You take the hint, swinging your leg over him and crashing back onto the pouch much to your dismay. He takes the moment to kick his boxers off where his jeans are sitting, and he clears his throat and waddles awkwardly down the hall.

You hold back a giggle, admiring his ass while he walks away. You puff, looking around the living room you knew so well, and you decided you’d rid yourself of your tights and skirts while you waited also. You lay back, spread your legs and play with the ends of your hair, huffing impatiently.

When he walked back in, he’s ripping the wrapper of the condom with his teeth, but he pauses for a second when he catches sight of you. He tongues at the inside of his cheek, a dry breath of amusement leaving his nose. He doesn’t waste much more time, he clambers onto the couch, knees on either side of you as he makes you watch him roll the condom onto his cock.

He hovers over you, body so close you can feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him. His face is inches from yours, and he flashes you the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen. “I know I told you not to kiss me on this couch, but–” He presses his lips against yours in a sweet, chaste kiss. Your eyes shut immediately, and you lean up when his lips pull away from yours far too soon. “I’m about to fuck you on this couch.” He kisses you again, and your hands slide up his shoulders and rest at the nape of his neck. “It’s only fair you get to kiss me too, right?” He rests his forehead against yours, and when you laugh, shaking your head with amusement, he can’t help but pepper a few more kisses over your face and neck.

“Then fuck me, Kook.” You whine, “I’ve been waiting too long.”

He wants to make a snarky remark back, tell you that he’s been waiting even longer than you could ever imagine, but who is he to deny you when you’re begging him like that? He leans back, and you raise your hips when he spits roughly into his palm and tugs on his cock.

You mewl at the pretty sight of him fisting his length tightly, prepping himself for you. He hisses, pulling his brows together when he circles the tip of his cock around your entrance before pushing it past your hole. Your breaths come out quick in silent moans, relishing in the delicious stretch of his thick cock pushing its way inside your tight walls. He groans, praising you, reminding you just how good you are for him. He collapses on top of you when he fills you to the brim, kissing your shoulder as he lets you adjust.

It's sweet of him, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you want him to ruin you. You didn’t realise how much you needed this, needed him. Your legs wrap around his waist with a huff, and when your cunt squeezes him, he catches on, and he pulls out and slams right back into you. You cry out his name, grasp onto his arms that are holding himself up on the arm rest you’re resting your head upon.

“How do you like it, dove?” He whispers into your ear, teeth tugging at your lobe teasingly. ”You like it hard?” He repeats the harsh movement of his hips again, snapping against yours with a loud thwack. He watches your reaction, the way your eyes roll back at the dull stinging in your cunt. You savour that feeling, rolling your hips against him slowly. “Wanna be fucked like the little slutty tease that you are, hm?” He continues to pound into you, squeezing the thighs that tighten around his lower back as he picks up the pace.

Jungkook learns quickly, though he doesn’t expect it, that you aren’t a quiet fuck. No, you’re quite the opposite— the cries of his name, the whimpers and the moans with each piston of his hips, as he thrusts his cock into your sweet spot over and over is a telltale sign.

What Jungkook doesn’t know is that you usually are— quite a quiet fuck, that is.

“Fuck, you’re a noisy little thing, aren’t you?” He noses at your jaw, nipping at the skin as you wail for into his ear.

“You’re gonna make me cum!” You cry, palms pushing down on his back to bring him closer to you. His chest brushes against your hardened nipples, and you grind up to meet his rough thrusts. His jaw tenses when you start to flutter around him. “Oh, baby, oh Koo!”

“Cum then, all over my cock pretty girl.” He husks into your ear, and just as you’re about to announce that you’re cumming, he brings his lips onto yours, lets you moan into his mouth instead. You convulse beneath him, sighing into his kiss.

He drags his cock in and out of you slowly, allowing you to ride out your high. He’s so close. You hum, clenching around him, making him shudder. “Don’t stop, want you to cum too.” You tell him.  

He leans back, holding your hips as he fucks you slowly, admiring the way your tits bounce, your half-lidded stare and the way you bite on your finger provocatively. His features scrunch, head dropping as he uses your cunt, hips stuttering as he reaches his own release. “Y/N, fuck, baby…”

You wince when he pulls out of you, your once stretched now empty of the feeling of him inside of you. “I deprived myself of this? For two years?” You hide your reddened face in your hands, your comment eliciting a hearty laugh out of your roommate. He leans down again, tugging of your wrists to see your face.

“You’re crazy.” He teases, grinning widely at you, pressing his lips against yours. Letting them linger there as the feeling sets in. “I’ll bring you a towel.”

He disappears into the bathroom, and you let yourself have a moment to shut your eyes and rest. You can’t drop the dumb smile that’s beginning to hurt your cheeks, though. Even when the rest of your body is laxed— content.

On the coffee table, the buzz of a text peels your eyes open. You sit up, thinking it could be yours but only Jungkook’s phone sits there. You pick it up, opening your mouth to let him know he got a text, but when you see the name that pops up on his lockscreen, which is a picture of you and him making cross-eyes at the camera, you feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Jungkook returns with a wet cloth and dry towel, but when he catches on to the look on your face, he freezes on the spot. “Y/N, what is it? What’s wrong?”

You hold his phone up to him, showing him the missed text.

A text from none other than Yuri.

“Miss you too, big boy.” You stand up, shove his phone into his chest, and storm off into the bedroom, but not before you rip the towel from his grip to cover your body from him. You had just borne yourself vulnerable to him, shared your body with him.

Jungkook flinches when he hears your bedroom door slam closed. He doesn’t even move his phone from his chest, just grips onto it tighter than before as his heart pounds harshly in his chest.

You didn’t think your night was going to get any worse, not after you found out what Taehyung did.

But alas, it had, and it was the cherry on top of the cake— Jungkook hadn’t even bothered to end things with Yuri.

You try to ignore the tears forming in your eyes, angrily pulling your pyjamas from your closet, and throwing them onto your bed. You move toward the shower, hoping it was going to help flush out your thoughts. But the moment you step underneath the warm water, you can’t hold back the sobs that force their way out of your throat.

Jungkook can hear them clearly, taunting him through the walls of his room.

Neither of you can get any sleep that night.

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