#clubzerooclock

“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. and Mrs. Jeon.” You peer around as you sit, curiosity plaguing you. “Will my mother be joining us?” 

 “That’s not necessary.” Jungkook’s father waves a hand. “We’d like to speak with you, Y/N.” 

 Warning bells start ringing in your head, and you clear your throat, poker face intact; you’re certainly not going to let these people know how afraid you are of them. “I’m flattered, Mr. Jeon; what would you like to speak to me about?”

 With a taut laugh, Jungkook’s father sighs… sighs. He clasps his hands together upon his cherrywood desk. “Y/N, I never wanted to have this discussion with you. Simply because it feels tasteless, however, my wife and I prefer to be frank; we know you do not want to marry our son.” 

 You internally choke, heart pumping in your goddamn throat. “I… pardon?” 

 Jungkook’s father clicks his tongue. “Yes, we’re aware, Y/N. And I do not blame you; my son is quite the character. He isn’t marriage material; surely, I can understand why you would not want to live a life tied to him. He’d only bring you disappointment and misery. Believe me, we have personal experience.” 

 Your brows threaten to furrow at Jungkook’s father’s choice of words, but your mouth moves faster than you can think—there’s no way they could’ve known your true feelings towards the marriage.  “Mr. Jeon, sir. I… think you may be mistaken. I informed you yesterday that I will happily accept Jungkook’s proposal.” 

 You hate that your voice quivers, but could you help it? How can Mr and Mrs Jeon even know about your rejection of the marriage? Surely Jungkook didn’t open his mouth; he’s the one who’s been the most adamant about pursuing this matrimony. You’re also confident his parents couldn’t have overheard your conversations; they were always AWOL whenever you had them. 

 The only other person who knows about your disdain for marrying Jungkook is… 

 God-fucking-dammit. 

 “It’s alright, Y/N. There’s no need to hide it; we’re aware of your rejection of the marriage courtesy of your mother, which is the main reason we wanted to speak to you privately.” 

Your nervous system begins to crash, frantic messages sending you into a frenzy. How are you meant to defend yourself and navigate this conversation? Let alone even compute your sheer anger towards your mother for her betrayal? 

 This is all fucking overstimulating.

  “Mr. Jeon, I’m not sure what my mother told you… there must’ve been a misunderstanding—”

 “Y/N, we’re making this simple; you cannot disagree with marrying our son.” 

 Your expression collapses. “Sorry… pardon?” 

 “Y/N, dear. I’m sorry to inform you, but there is no way for you to reject your marriage to our son. We do not want to sound threatening, but we can’t allow you to say no.” Jungkook’s mother attempts to soothe you with her dulcet tone, but her words are cutthroat. 

 You can’t believe this is happening; are his parents sincerely attempting to entrap you? You can’t help but lightly scoff, unbelieving of this. “Mr and Mrs Jeon, with all due respect, I think I can decide who I marry. And I promise you, while your son is a delight, I can’t marry him. Nor can I be forced into marrying him. I simply don’t know him well enough.” 

 “There is no force here, Y/N—” Jungkook’s father starts, but you don’t let him finish. 

 “But isn’t there? Nothing is accommodating or understanding about this conversation, Mr. Jeon. It sounds very arbitrary.” 

 “Dear, we’re only telling you that there is no choice in the matter. Part of your mother signing us meant your hand in marriage to our son; no part of the deal outlined a choice.” 

 “Well, that would mean more if I knew about it.” You swallow with a cold glance at Jungkook’s mother, ensuring you keep your tone in check. “This contract or deal, including our marriage, was made without my knowledge or consent, deeming it technically null and void, Mr and Mrs Jeon. I sincerely apologize, but I do not see the merit in marrying your son when we don’t know each other. We’re strangers, and I’m certain many other women would be happy to marry Jungkook.” 

 Jungkook’s father sighs, clutching his hands tighter together. “Y/N, under most circumstances, I would’ve let this go. You are right; many women deeply desire to marry my son. However, what you forget is that those women all possess ulterior motives. Whether it’s our family’s influence, status, or empire—I cannot let my son marry a woman who only cares for his money. This is why you are the ideal choice.”

 Perplexion colours your features. “And why is that?” 

 “Because you have no reason to marry our son for his money.” His father unflappably answers. “Your family consists of affluent and successful lawyers, and as an aspiring lawyer, you are driven and ambitious in your field—you have no need to use our son.”

 You fight back a scoff, ensuring you're as respectful as possible. “How can you guarantee that, Mr and Mrs Jeon? It seems you’re utilizing me as a band-aid solution to your son’s problems, and you can’t guarantee an arranged marriage to me will fix Jungkook.” 

 That silences them for a bit, but you’re sorely mistaken—that silence was only their moment to calculate.

 “You seem to be an impeccable liar, Miss Y/L/N.” His father scolds.

 It’s like someone took a bat to your stomach. “I beg your pardon?” 

 “We know you’ve met our son before, Y/N.” Jungkook’s father admits. “Which means you are perfectly aware of my son’s flawed character. Your ability to pretend to accept this matrimony in the beginning nearly had us fooled. I'm sure you can continue to pretend to like my son, which will keep him happy.”

 Shock isn’t even an appropriate word; perhaps flabbergasted would be. “I’m sorry, again, you must be mistaken. I have never met Jungkook—”

 “We keep close tabs on our children, Y/N.” Jungkook’s mother informs, leaning her perfectly manicured hand on her husband’s desk. “We know you and Jungkook were both present at Jung Hoseok’s nightclub opening a few weeks ago, and we know you were both seen leaving together. We’re aware.” 

 Barring the fact that you feel wildly violated in multiple ways, your need to argue supersedes the discomfort. “Even if I’ve met Jungkook before, I’m still not the best choice. I’m sure you know there are plenty of women Jungkook has been with more times than me. I’m a stranger he only met once; I’m not the correct choice, Mr and Mrs Jeon.” 

 “But you very much are, Y/N.” Jungkook’s father argues. “Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be. You must say yes, or you are jeopardizing not only your mother’s word but your family’s firm. How would their reputation fare once it’s outed that their daughter takes home men from nightclubs? We know what our company signing on as your clients means to your family, especially after your father. So please, think about the implications of your choice.” 

 A figurative slap strikes your face as you soak in his words—bringing up your father was cruel. You sincerely can’t believe this. Maybe this is why Jungkook is such a bold asshole; did his parents always micro-manage and meddle in his life like they’re doing with yours now? 

 Who are you kidding? They probably did it his entire life. It’s hilarious how easily his parents manipulate the situation to create a dire circumstance if you don’t comply, all for your yes? Do you sincerely mean that much to these people? 

 No, you don’t mean anything. All that matters is that you provide something they need, and of course, your mother having continuously operated on her own accord, never considered the consequences that would compromise your livelihood.

 Anger could never encapsulate the burning fury you feel towards her right now. 

 Assessing the situation, there’s no room for escape. Saying no to Jungkook’s parents would mean making an enemy out of a mighty company that could easily tip the South Korean economy. You channel your problem-solving skills, employing everything you’ve conveniently picked up in law school.

 You need to de-escalate this situation and plan for the future—perhaps you can give up this battle to instead strategize for the war. Facing your opposition now, you decide to save face, plastering on a pristine smile. “Of course, Mr and Mrs Jeon. I certainly wouldn’t want to harm my family.” 

 Jungkook’s parents return identical plastic grins, appearing delighted. “Thank you, Y/N. We appreciate your cooperation and look forward to welcoming you into the family as our daughter.” 

 With that, you rise from your seat to send them a respectful bow, purse folding underneath your iron grip. Spinning on your heel, all that fills your head is a thousand curses, damning your luck to the very depths of hell. 

 You sit idly in the shallowest part of a private pool, deciding to indulge in whatever the Jeon’s luscious resort could offer if they’re going to royally fuck you over. 

 You lounge in a tranquil, quiet pool. Adjusting the sunglasses that shield you from the afternoon sun beaming through the ceiling windows, you settle more comfortably into the water, letting it wash away your frustration. 

 Your mind brews with different versions of that conversation, wishing you could’ve been more assertive, but alas, niceties and respecting your elders are more important than free will. You couldn’t raise your voice nor flaunt an attitude, only earning yourself their disdain—the last thing you need. 

 You hear footsteps slow down from the pool entrance, turning your head to find the person you least expected. 

 Jungkook enters with his AirPods on full blast, tapping away on his phone, a towel hanging from his shoulder. He’s completely unaware of your presence until he lazily strides over to the pool, his eyes widening once they land on you. 

 “You’re here?”

 “Yeah, because I can be.” 

 Jungkook’s eyebrows bounce, indicating he’s not touching your grumpy self with a 10-foot pole. He pops out an airpod, rolling his lips. “Do I even want to ask?” 

 You scoff. “As if you care?” 

 “Even if I said I did, would you believe me?” 

 Acquiescing at his fair point, you grind your teeth, frustration reaching a record high. “I’m not really in a sharing mood, especially with you.” 

 You don’t mean to sound so vicious, but you do, anyway. You happily return to reading on your Kindle, acting unbothered by his presence. Keyword; acting, because only God knows how much you're tempted to soak up Jungkook’s deliciously bare body with only trunks hugging his pretty hips. 

 Matters worsen when he flashes you a narrow-eyed look before setting aside his phone and buds on a chair. He rolls his neck and effortlessly stretches his mouth-watering muscles—you’re unsure whether he’s setting up a thirst trap. 

 Sadly, you’re being led right into it. 

 You cough away hormonally-charged thoughts when he dives into the water, the waves of the impact reaching you. You roll your eyes as he shatters your little bubble of peace, deciding to ignore him, but Jungkook’s presence electrifies the air around you. 

 He swipes water from his face and hair as he resurfaces. He glances at you as you read, catching your attention. You judge him for laying his eyes on you, causing Jungkook to break eye contact. He shakes his head at whatever internal monologue he has going on. 

 You return to reading, only to feel the heat of his eyes on you once again. You find him smugly gazing—you sneer. “What do you want?”

 He flashes a displeased look. “What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” 

 You don’t answer, refocusing on your e-reader instead. You hear a tired sigh across from you—Jungkook’s annoyance is clear as day. “Y/N, have you ever heard of a question? Typically it requires an answer.” 

 You laugh. “Like I’m obligated to answer you.” 

 “You are when I ask you something.” 

 Usually, the dominance in his sentence alone would’ve shot something through you, which it does, but you decide to neglect it. So what if he’s standing in the pool with water up to his chest? His long locks soaking with droplets? “You should know by now that I don’t like listening to you.” 

 Another sigh passes his lips, and shortly after, Jungkook treads the water to lean his arms across the platform you're currently occupying, a shallow end that allows visitors to soak in a few inches of water. You feel an electric rush as his eyes penetrate yours, despising the magnetic effect he has on you. 

 There’s no amount of force or aggression in his approach either, just a soft, almost consoling look. You swallow as his chin rests on his forearms. Is he peering at you with… concern? 

 “Y/N, I’m serious. Why are you so damn upset?” 

 His sincerity throws you off, struggling for a response. “It’s… none of your concern.” 

 “Well, it is now. Do you forget that you’re supposed to be marrying me?” 

 You laugh again, recalling the wonderful discussion you had earlier with his parents. “Oh, trust me. How could I forget when certain people are so adamant about reminding me?” 

 Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. “Okay, I’m sensing layers in that.” 

 Rolling your eyes, you shut off your e-reader and cast it aside on your towel, crossing your arms over your scantily-clad breasts. Your swimsuit isn’t the most revealing, but it does accentuate your chest, leaving little to the imagination. 

 You catch Jungkook sneaking a few peaks, and you nearly throw up at the part of you that feels a blazing fire when he does. What the fuck is wrong with you? You shouldn’t feel your nipples harden, you hate this man. “Doesn’t matter what you sense, Spidey. Could you stop interrogating me?”

 “I’m not going to, especially when you’re being cryptic as hell.” 

 You snort. “Then let your curiosity kill you; I’m not saying anything.” 

 Zoning out, you recline against your waterproof backrest and adjust your sunglasses, soaking in the golden rays that seep through the windows. There’s no point in looping Jungkook into the bullshit his parents pulled on you—it is insulting and downright humiliating. 

 But clearly, that doesn’t matter, because Jungkook decides on his own that he’s getting the information he wants. Almost instantly, Jungkook plants his hands on the platform you lounge on and hoists himself up, his biceps flexing as he does. He stares down at you with condescending fondness, languidly perusing your body before a sly smirk paints his lips.

 You swallow hard as you peer up at him, this angle forcing you to squish your suddenly heated thighs together. His hair cascades down in soaked waves, his thin silver chain dangling deliciously over his traps. You stare at him wide-eyed, hormones firing in rapid succession. 

 “Y/N; tell me right now why you’re so damn upset.” 

 You swallow at his random words, not even daring to inspect the sentiment behind it. “It’s not going to change anything if you know, Jungkook. Why do you fucking care?” 

 A dry laugh rolls through him, hanging his head before you. He sighs deeply, lifting his gaze to find yours. He holds it so profoundly that for a second, you’re honestly confident Jungkook will lean down and kiss you. He seems to search your irises, practically excavating your damn soul. 

 “Why do you hate me so much? Would it be so damn bad if you just talked to me?” 

 You return his round-eyed look with a sceptical one, waging a civil war in your mind. He sounds so fucking genuine that it hurts to deny him cooperation. At that moment, you forget the compromising position you’re both in—his broad body engulfing yours, his heat and scent searing your skin. You break eye contact and clutch your chest tighter, nibbling at your bottom lip. 

“It’s your parents.” 

 Jungkook blinks. “What?” 

 “Your parents… I met them earlier in the day and they… told me that I have no choice in marrying you.” You relay, hating the words as they escape you. “They said I can’t say no to you no matter what.” 

 Jungkook’s eyebrows cutely furrow, coral lips curiously pouting. “They said that?” 

 “Yes,” you stress. “Do you need me to fucking act it out for you?” 

 “No, of course not.” Jungkook bites back, slowly placating. “I’m just… wow. I expected them not to take your rejection lightly, but cornering you and forcing you to say yes? I didn’t think they’d stoop that low.” 

 “Well, they did.” You snip back, tightly folding your arms over your chest. It’s an attempt to ensure your composure remains intact, no matter how poor the effort—it also helps hide evidence of your body’s reaction to him. 

 “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Jungkook’s tone melts into that of chocolate, tugging himself out of the water. He sits in front of you as his eyes swirl with guilt. “I am seriously so sorry you got roped into this.” 

 Something inside you flutters at the apology, but it doesn’t feel right. “Why are you apologizing, Jungkook? It’s not your fault.” 

 “I know, but… I feel responsible. This wouldn’t have happened if my parents were just fucking normal.” He vents, running his fingers through his wet hair.  “They can impose themselves on my life, but not other people’s. Are they fucking insane?” 

 Now, guilt swirls in your eyes. Jungkook can’t take all the blame for this; little does he know your mother was the most sinister part of this plan. “Jungkook, stop. It’s not all about you and your parents. My mother’s the mastermind behind all this.” 

 Jungkook’s features contort. “What? How? My parents were the ones who planned this entire trip for you and your mom.” 

 “No.” you shake your head as you pull up your knees and rest your elbows on them. “Jungkook, this plan was set in motion long ago. My mother was behind this entire thing.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 And you spill the beans. You tell Jungkook about your mother signing his parents and Jeon Entertainment as clients; you inform him about your hands in marriage being offered as part of their contract; tell him that both your parents are conniving people who only considered what benefits they’d reap, not the consent of their children. 

 “Wow… wow.” He stares at nothing, stunned. You watch as he openly processes his feelings. You noticed Jungkook did that often, so unabashedly expressed himself. “When did you find this out?” 

“Last night,” you reply. “I didn’t necessarily talk to my mom about it. She kept deflecting until I got it out of her. I still can’t fucking believe she did this without telling me anything.” 

 Sympathy rolls off Jungkook in waves. A glance in his direction confirms the sensation, instantly hardening. “Don’t you dare pity me, Jeon.” 

 “I’m not,” he denies. “Sorry if I’m thinking about how fucked up our situation is.” 

 “It gets worse, you know.” 

 “For fuck’s sake, how?” 

 You sigh, wetting your lips before reliving the slightly disturbing information. “Your parents know that we know each other, and they’re aware exactly how.” 

 Jungkook chokes on air, clutching a hand to his rock-hard chest. “What in the absolute fuck? There’s no way.” 

 “Well, apparently, there is.” You snark, leaning back on your hands in the water. “They told me they knew we both met at Jung Hoseok’s club opening and that we also left together.”

 Jungkook purses his lips as his eyes betray whatever thoughts he’s having. His gaze roams your body—perhaps he’s remembering the night he pounded into you over a table. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“That can’t guarantee they know about us sleeping together.” He grunts. 

 “Jungkook, what the fuck else does it mean when two strangers leave a club together? Your parents aren’t stupid.” 

 Jungkook groans, smacking his palm to his forehead. “I honestly fucking wish they were.” 

 You laugh at every ounce of stress within you, still disbelieving the information despite having heard it just a couple of hours ago. “Unbelievable. Our parents are fucking unbelievable.”

 “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he preaches, huffing as his veiny hands nestle onto his biceps when he crosses his arms. God, is he built like a marble statue, especially when he’s shirtless like this, intensifying your unhealthy attraction to him.

 Fuck off, Y/N; you need to squash all attraction to this annoying man. 

 “We need a way to get back at them.” Jungkook proposes. “Like hell I’m letting them get away with dictating my life, and yours too.” 

 For once, you find yourself agreeing with Jungkook. “Wow, I’m genuinely shocked to report that I agree with you.” 

 A condescending grin paints Jungkook’s face. “And I’m genuinely shocked you’re showing me human decency.” 

 “Whatever,” you scoff, “clearly we’re both being fucked over. The question is what we’re going to do about it.” 

 “Interesting,” Jungkook chimes. “You’re looking to join forces with me rather than using the entire English language to insult me?” 

 You lift a threatening hand in his direction. “Shut up; you know you deserve it for being an asshole 99% of the time.” 

 “Awh,” he pouts. “So you acknowledge I’m not an asshole 1% of the time?” 

 Annoyed, you quickly crawl over to him and land a harmless smack on his bare chest, not at all surprised when he barely moves a muscle, and rather giggles. For fuck’s sake, did his delicious self need to have a cute laugh, too? It’s highly contradictory to the solid pec you just felt. “Fuck off, Jungkook. Focus on our predicament here!” 

 “Okay,” he placates, holding up his hands in surrender. “What do you propose as a solution, then?” 

 You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you nestle onto the backs of your legs. “Well, clearly we need to convince them this entire marriage is a mistake. Your parents are certain I’m perfect for you for some reason.” 

 That lights up Jungkook’s sparkly brown eyes, a smile painting his lips. “That’s news to me. How could an angry little kitten like you be perfect for me?” 

 Scoffing, you narrow your eyes at him. “Call me a kitten one more time, Jeon, and I’m drop-kicking your ass.” 

 “Jokes on you,” he retorts. “I’d gladly let you drop-kick me, kitten.” 

 Now you’ve lost it, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf ready to blow a pig’s house down. Grinding your teeth, muscle memory propels you into an offensive position, reaching out to grab Jungkook. You expect your next move to be swift; however, your expectation is wrong. 

 Jungkook predicts your hand placement and instead shackles your wrists, halting them from movement. He grins mischievously as your expression shifts into one of pure shock. You fight his grasp to reclaim control, but Jungkook dismantles your plan. 

 He pins your hands behind your back against the platform floor. Your legs naturally fly open as your ass hits the ground, causing Jungkook to lodge between your thighs. Your breath halts, feeling the heat of his presence sear between your legs.

 The daring man grins smugly while you squirm, applying any techniques to escape his hold. Jungkook only tightens his grip or adjusts his lock, toying with his lip ring with a little laugh. 

 “Jungkook, what the fuck!” You yank your arms but gain nothing. Jungkook only responds with amused laughter, his sweet eyes creasing so adorably, you’re almost too enamoured to remember you’re pissed. 

“I am so sorry; there’s just something so fun about seeing you mad.”

 “Jungkook–!” As you attempt to free yourself, Jungkook immediately hardens his grip and tugs you closer, nearly chest-to-chest with him. Your breath hitches, and his clean, crisp scent attacks your nose. He peers down at you with such an enticing look that you’re utterly unmovable. 

 You glance up at him through your eyelashes, gulping—your insides twitch when he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “So you were saying; we need to convince our parents we’re a mistake?” 

 His closeness causes your chest to swirl. “Won’t take much convincing once we drop the nice act. Anyone can see we’re not compatible in the slightest.” 

 Jungkook notches a brow. “I don’t know about you, kitten, but we’re far from a mistake. This energy we have seems pretty compatible to me.” 

 Your system goes haywire as Jungkook’s doe eyes devour you. His sinful look ignites an insatiable flame, itching to connect your lips and do something about this crazy chemistry. Jungkook is stupidly right; you two have inexplicable, magnetic chemistry, but exploring it would only lead to your absolute ruin—you know it. 

 Connections like this with men like Jungkook will either make or break you. 

 “You’re insufferable, you know that?” You spit venom. “I don’t care what we look like. I’m not fucking marrying you.” 

 Something flashes in Jungkook’s eyes, but gravity immediately hardens them. “Don’t worry. I only wanted to marry you because it serves my purposes, but if we could get my parents off my back with our plan, it’s killing two birds with one stone.” 

 His words stir up more hatred for him, digging your nails into the backs of his hands so hard he releases you. 

 “Ow, what the fuck?!”

 “I couldn’t provide a solution with you holding me against my will, mongrel.”

 Jungkook scoffs, massaging where you impaled him. “What’s your big idea, then?” 

 You shake off the weight of his hands compressing you, swallowing back the lascivious flashbacks of him doing the same as he ploughed into your hole from behind. God, how visions of that night haunt you—how he haunts you. 

 “It’s diabolical, Jeon.” You warn him, something evil cooking up in your mind. It’s not horrid enough to ruin lives, but it’s definitely in bad taste. “You up for a challenge?” 

 Jungkook’s eyes glimmer with mischief in response, an eager grin on his lips. “Hit me with your best shot.”

 “Do you not have manners, Jungkook? Didn’t your parents teach you not to inhale your food?” 

 “Please, is this what our marriage is gonna look like? You nitpicking at everything I do?” 

 Jungkook pins you with a dirty look as noodles hang out of his mouth. Your arms are folded as you eye him with disgust, having already finished your meal. 

 It’s hilarious how easy it was for your parents to don disapproving looks while you and Jungkook bickered. This must’ve been the ninth time you argued with each other, radiating utter contempt. Your parents had scheduled a family dinner at a restaurant at the resort; the perfect combination of exquisite Italian and the calming waves of the Maldives sea. 

 Yours and Jungkook’s body language was telling throughout the dinner: turned away from each other, closed off gestures, rolling eyes or huffing breaths. But then again, this wasn’t just acting with Jungkook; you’ve despised each other since the moment you met, and you don’t see that changing anytime soon. 

 Even though your deepest, darkest parts tug at the tendrils of desire that he whirs inside you. 

 “Y/N, dear, you know it’s not nice to point out others' eating habits like that.” Your mother gently scolds—you send her your coldest tone. 

 “Not my fault he eats like an animal. He should’ve been taught better.” 

 Jungkook’s father audibly clears his throat at that, his mother awkwardly swallowing her food. You almost feel terrible, knowing Jungkook’s relationship is already soured between him and his parents, but he agreed to the brutality of this, and you’re not backing down. 

 The only way to convince your parents this marriage is an awful idea is the only way they know best; serving it to them on a silver platter. 

 “Seems like you were raised with a gun to your head,” Jungkook retorts. “No wonder you’re such a critical control freak.” 

 You scandalously gasp. “Am not.” 

 “Yes, you are.” 

 “Am not!” 

 “Are to!” 

 You grunt with frustration, playing the role almost too well. Something about being overly dramatic with Jungkook made you adopt a sense of camaraderie with him. You weren't alone either, you could see the quiet shimmer in Jungkook’s eyes as he put on his best performance. 

 It should be alarming how good you two are at lying. 

 “Says the guy who spends all his time drinking and screwing his money away. And you’re concerned with marrying me? How am I supposed to know you haven’t just come from another woman’s bed when you get home?” 

 “Says the woman who’s had everything handed to her her whole life. Is that why you spend so much time dictating other people’s lives? Because you can’t dictate your own?” 

 Your heated argument charges the entire table with unease, both of your parents either gasping, exclaiming in shock, or pinching the bridges of their noses. You’re sincerely glad Mari wasn’t part of this late-night dinner; Jungkook’s parents promised to drink and didn’t want little Mari around alcohol, having sent her to her room with a nanny. 

 “Jungkook, son, that’s no way to talk to a woman.” Jungkook’s father rebukes him. 

 “So what?” Jungkook sasses, wiping the sauce smeared by his lips. Why are you thinking of licking it off him? “She’s not gonna be my woman, anyway.” 

 You know it’s an act; it’s all pretend, so why did your heart sting when Jungkook so casually said that? You forget yourself; there’s no way you’d spend an eternity with this infuriating man. 

 “Still, son. Mind the way you speak.” His mother informs. 

 “You too, bidulgi.” Your mother follows suit. “This is your future husband.”

 You scoff, shaking your head. “I’d rather die alone than marry an ill-mannered animal like him.” 

Jungkook similarly huffs. “You’re right. I’d rather lose a limb than live the rest of my life chained to this witch.” 

 “Jungkook!” His mother exclaims, holding a delicate hand to her most likely terrified heart. “How dare you speak like that, that is not how we raised you!” 

 “Right,” Jungkook leans back as his tone hardens. “You two taught me to obey everything that’s come out of your mouths, including this marriage. Well, guess what? The only thing coming out of my mouth when I’m at the altar with this she-devil are the words ‘I don’t.’” 

 Another shocked exclaim leaves your lips. “You’re hilarious for thinking I’d ever get on the altar with you. You’d probably be screwing one of my bridesmaids right before the ceremony.” 

 Your mother’s eyes bulged out of their sockets then, her nostrils flared. “Y/N, you come with me this instant.” 

 With frustration fresh on your features, your mother yanks your arm, speed-walking away from the ruined dinner. She tugs you closer to the live music and behind the tent that sequesters the restaurant. 

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” She exasperates. “How dare you act like that in front of your in-laws?!” 

 “I don’t know, mom.” You drawl with a saccharine sweet tone. “Maybe it’s because the Jeons already know I hate their son, courtesy of you. I’m just reaffirming what they’ve been told.” 

 Your mother placates, the most disappointed look donning her features. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” 

 “What’s on purpose? Me arguing with Jungkook every second? Hating him? Being against this marriage? You already know these things, so what exactly is on purpose?” 

 “You’re trying to sabotage it,” your mother spits back. “How dare you? After how hard I worked for you? For our family firm? For your father, who’s only ever wanted to see his little girl happily married?” 

 “Don’t you dare use Dad to manipulate me.” You hate that tears brim your eyes, hugging your chest tightly. “God, you just can’t stop being a lawyer for two seconds, can you? You’re already trying to exploit my weaknesses into obeying your wishes?”

 “It’s not like that.” Your mother coos, reaching out her hand to nestle against your shoulder. “Don’t sabotage this, Y/N. You know what it means for our family, for the firm that you’ll take over someday.” 

 You laugh, tone drier than the Sahara desert. “Please, you’ve sabotaged our relationship with this. Don’t think I’ll ever take over the firm from you for a second.”  

 You watch as your mother’s eyes swirl with pain, but she conceals her emotions perfectly behind an ironclad mask. She swallows harshly before she lets go of your shoulder and stands taller. 

 “I did not raise my daughter to behave like a barbarian in front of others. You will return to that dinner with a smile and the most polite attitude you can muster, or I swear, Y/N, I will permanently cut you off from our family.” 

 Of course, the classic threat of severing the tie between you and your family. She usually did this when she had no other options to tug at, forcing her into blackmailing or threatening. 

 You narrow your eyes at her before stomping away, aggravated. You heard her sigh behind you until you both reached the table again, plopping down in your seat like an upset child. 

 Jungkook surprisingly sends you a concerned look, his doe eyes inquiring if everything’s alright. You indicate so with a light nod, returning to brooding. 

 “Jungkook, what is wrong with you? I told you to behave best for Y/N and her mother.” 

 “Oh please, father. You told me to at least show up, so here I am. I never agreed to be compliant.” Jungkook scoffs as he takes a swig of pinot noir, brewing with indignation. “We could easily be free of this nonsense of a marriage if you and mom just accepted we don’t want to be together.” 

 Jungkook’s mother sighs deeply, a frustrated hand snug against her temple. “Son, if we call off this marriage, we’re afraid you’ll never get married, and there won’t be an heir to take over Jeon Entertainment.” 

 “Sure they’ll be.” Jungkook retorts. “Who says I won’t get married after this? You and Dad could be keeping me from finding the love of my life by forcing me to marry some stranger. Besides, if I don’t marry and produce an heir, I’ll just adopt a child. What’s so wrong about that?”

 “Everything. Everything is wrong with that!” Jungkook’s father smacks his hand on the table, causing the utensils to clatter. Others in the restaurant send Jungkook and his parent's odd looks. “Son, stop playing games. You asked me to stop treating you like a child, but it’s difficult when you act like one. Be a man and grow up! You are meant to shoulder the responsibility of a company, a wife, and soon, having your own family. Do not make me remind you of the consequences if you do not.” 

 Jungkook fights back the urge to roll his eyes, pressing his thumbs to his forehead as a headache develops. He’s close to finding a good response until your scent wafts in his direction, finding you and your mother assuming your seats. 

 Your desolate face alone tells him the conversation with your mother was just as terrible as his. Still, an innate concern pushes him to quirk a brow, questioning if you’re alright. You nod to him, returning to your forgotten salad on your plate.

 The parents at the table resume a normal conversation once you and Jungkook are forced into silence. The plan had been to utterly ruin the dinner and force your parents to call off the marriage, but Jungkook could sense your mood was too soured now. 

 Jungkook tunes out much of the chattering, cleaning off the rose sauce of his pasta. He notices you wallowing in self-pity, and it’s not until your mother nudges you that your attention returns to the dinner

. 

“Isn’t that right, Y/N?” 

 Jungkook watches your eyes widen, your lips forming a pout—he couldn’t understand why he found it so cute. “Pardon?” 

 “Your violin playing, bidulgi. Jungkook’s parents love listening to classical music. Why don’t you ask the live band if it’s alright for you to play a bit?” 

Jungkook watches your expression immediately drop, frozen like a deer in headlights. 

 You swallow awkwardly before clearing your throat. “Ah, no Mom. I don’t think the band will let me play.” 

 “Oh come on.” Your mother encourages, “There’s no harm in asking, is there? I want our in-laws to see your talent.” 

 Jungkook can visibly see the unease that dresses your features, but you quickly mask it with a smile. It’s a shaky, unsure one, but you lift off your seat, teeth tightly clamped. “I’ll check.” 

 You exhale a deep breath, turning on your heel and stepping towards the live band who’s just finished a song. Considering you mentioned it the other day, Jungkook knew you could play the violin, but your tone was hesitant. Connecting it to how your shoulders shrank as you approached the side of the stage and anxiously played with your fingers, he assumes you’re wildly uncomfortable with this. 

 Curiosity hit him hard; what could make you feel like this? And if it makes you feel so uneasy, why is your mother so oblivious to it? Nonetheless, Jungkook watches you politely speak to one of the band members. There appears to be hope in your eyes when the violinist hesitates, though another seems to encourage him. The violin is eventually handed to you, and Jungkook observes you staring at it for at least half a minute before you grip it tightly, your throat bobbing. 

 Timidly, you step towards the center of the stage. The band lead quickly speaks to you before introducing you to the audience, and everyone greets you with eager applause. Jungkook also claps, but he’s more interested in studying you. There’s something about the distressed way you grip the instrument, nestling it underneath your chin with… pain. 

 Your delicate fingers squeeze the bow, face glimmering in the stage lighting, though it only illuminates your tempestuous expression. Your hands visibly shake, lips quivering ever so slightly. You inhale a wavering breath, forcefully shutting your eyes. The audience watches with their breaths held, lowly whispering to each other with concern. 

Just when Jungkook’s convinced you’ll never start playing, you lift the bow to the neck of the violin and begin your descent into a song.

 Jungkook is convinced he has entered heaven. 

The effortless fluidity of your playing doesn’t hit him like a truck, no, it feels like the softness of snow falling on Christmas day. Like tides hugging the shoreline or a windchime pirouetting in the breeze; your playing is far too superior for Jungkook to accurately articulate. 

 The natural work of your hands, the seamless flow of each note, the melody of the piece you chose, certainly something you composed rather than an infamous song. Your mother was right; you’re tremendously talented, though that word alone is an understatement. 

 The crowd revels in your angelic playing; but Jungkook couldn’t help but notice the utter despair radiating from the song you played, along with the misery on your face. Pain seemed to stretch across your features, as though each note left your chest caving in. 

 Jungkook felt the urge to tear the violin out of your hands, just so you didn’t appear so heartbroken. He sat unsettled, bouncing his leg, waiting for the right opportunity to tap your mother’s shoulder and inquire whether or not this was a smart choice. 

It’s not long before tears begin to shimmer in your eyes, and Jungkook’s had enough. Something vital compels him to call your mother’s attention, ready to insist she stop you. 

 Right then, your playing comes to a halt, finishing off the song with a crowd-pleasing bang. The audience sits stunned before erupting into applause, glee radiating in their expressions. But you’re the opposite, appearing as though horror has overcome every bone in your body. 

 Rapidly, you dart off the stage. You return the violin to its original owner before hurrying out of the restaurant. Jungkook’s parents quirk a brow and question your mother, though she remains seated, unbothered, chalking it up to a severe case of stage fright. 

 Jungkook may not know you that well, but anyone with emotional intelligence could tell that was far worse than simple stage fright. 

 Fighting his inner turmoil, Jungkook considers whether or not he should find you. Perhaps you were better off alone; you seemed like the type. But something pushed him to find out more. He couldn’t continue dinner with this nagging feeling inside him. 

 He remains seated, toying with his lip ring as he thinks.

 It’s not long before he excuses himself for the restroom, though that isn’t his intended destination. 

 “A mango Bellini, please.” 

 “Extra shot for you, love?” 

 “Surprise me, why don’t you?” 

 You forcefully smile at the sweet lady bartender, hoping she’ll serve you premium mango for your Bellini. A long, deep sigh escapes you as you wallow by the bar, attempting with all your might to hold back tears. 

 Nothing can describe the heavy-heartedness you feel, the absolute desolation of passion that once made you feel something indescribable. Now, as you clutch your chest, you feel nothing but lead in your stomach, a gaping emptiness. 

 Gripping the familiar instrument prompted a fierce panic attack, but you choked it down, hoping your shaking hands wouldn’t betray you on stage. Still, you found it in you to power through the beginning of your favourite song. 

 A song you composed with your father. 

 A flashback suddenly appeared in your mind. The golden rays of the sun bleed into your music room. Your father speaking wistfully of the violin’s enchanting features, its moving sound. You see his proud smile as you complete one of his favourite melodies, and reminisce your giggles as he sweeps you off the floor and into his arms. 

 A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, instantly wiping it away. There’s no use in feeling remorse anymore, it wouldn’t make a difference. Things have been permanently changed, and there’s no use in scavenging the past for a lost feeling. 

 They’re gone forever. He’s gone forever. 

 “Is it your thing to constantly run away?” 

 Whirling at the voice, you placate once you find Jungkook standing before you. He scrutinizes you—you roll your eyes. 

 “If you’re the one I’m running from, then yes.” 

 You hear the soft chime of Jungkook’s laugh before he settles, leaning against the bar with respectable space between you two. His elbows nestled against the edge, his eyes flickering over the scenes of people rejoicing in the island music the beach bar offered. 

 “You’re good at the violin, you know.” Jungkook remarks, rubbing his fingertips against his lower lip. “I didn’t know you were that good.” 

 “You shouldn’t have had to know.” You scoff. “But of course, my mother’s an expert in bending me to her will. Shaping me into the exact mould she’s always wanted.”

 Jungkoook purses his lips, nodding in acknowledgement. “Yeah, that’s tough.” 

 His nonchalance compels you to face him, brows quirked. “Is this the part where you tell me why you’re here?” 

 Jungkook grins. “What, am I not allowed to simply be in your presence?” 

 “No, actually.” You snip. “I’m allergic to people missing brain cells and basic manners.” 

 “A shocker, then.” He counters. “I wonder how you tolerate yourself.” 

 You can’t help but side-eye him, eventually turning away. “Seems being an asshole is still your speciality.” 

 “And yours is still assuming things.” 

 Jungkook becomes the receiver of one of your dirtiest looks, only distracted by your bartender handing you your cocktail. One sip confirms she did use premium mango, and your drink is far too exquisite to simply sip. You scarf down the fruity liquid before Jungkook speaks up. 

 “Wow, are you trying to choke?” 

 “Depends,” you purr, “if it’s the kind I like.” 

 You didn’t mean for that sentence to come out so suggestively, but it affects Jungkook nonetheless. Heat licks at his irises before he simmers, a small smirk painting his lips. 

 “I see you have a clear trauma response.” 

 You nearly spit out your drink. “Excuse me?” 

 “You heard me.” Jungkook reaffirms. “Is this all your way of ignoring the clearly traumatic episode you had back there?” 

 Your defences instantly trigger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

 “Wow,” Jungkook shakes his head, “now you’re going to act oblivious? You’re just like your mother.” 

 “Pardon me?” You pause. “What did you just say?” 

 “Nothing. Look, I’m not trying to pick a fight with you, Y/N. I just think you need to get your mind off this in a healthier way.” 

 The corner of your mouth curls up into a nasty look. “I don’t think it’s your place to determine how people deal with their issues, Jeon. I also don’t see you suggesting any so-called “healthier” ways.” 

 Jungkook grins with newfound purpose, his bright eyes landing on the moving bodies of men and women on the wooden dance floor plopped over the sandy beach. A lightbulb figuratively appears above his head, his brows wriggling. “I damn well know a healthier way.” 

 Your synapses fire quickly, putting two and two together. “Oh, no way, Jungkook. The last thing I’ll do is dance.” 

 “Why not? From what I remember, you’re a good dancer.” 

 Flashbacks of that sweaty, crowded dance floor at Hoseok’s club plague you, more so Jungkook’s body moving with yours. You remembered dancing with him; feeling his fingertips glide across your skin, his fiery eyes, his pillowy lips grazing your ears and neck.

 You shiver, swallowing harshly. “You just witnessed me nearly lose it in front of all those people. Why would I want to dance in public right now?” 

Jungkook sits on your answer, his thinking cap clearly on as he purses his lips. It’s not long before he finally finds an answer, sighing. “You know, I was saving this for myself for tonight because these are my favourites.” 

 You quirk a brow. “Huh?” 

 With droopy shoulders and a bowed head, Jungkook glances around him before he reaches into his pants pockets. Your eyes follow the secretive reveal, gasping when you catch the label. 

 “Jungkook, what the fuck? Why do you have edibles?!” 

 “Shh, it’s not that big of a deal. I just like getting high sometimes on vacation, especially tropical ones.” 

 You emit a disgusted sound. “Why are you even showing me this?”

 He snorts. “Because you need a way to de-stress, and this is a great way to do so, no?” Jungkook proposes the idea like it’s the easiest suggestion in the world. Not that you haven’t done weed before, it just manifested a giggle from you that he oddly has edibles. 

 “Um, no? Maybe I just need a night to myself without your shit.” You snap back, but you don’t think you meant any of those words. Something about tonight compelled company, not loneliness. 

Still, you’d never willingly admit to wanting Jungkook’s company. 

 “What, you’ve never done weed before?” 

You scoff. “I have, I just don’t see how doing weed is going to solve my problems.” 

 “I didn’t say it would,” Jungkook replies, “but it will momentarily de-stress you, and you’ll forget about this feeling until tomorrow.”

 You open your mouth to argue but don’t find a good enough counter. Technically, he isn’t wrong. And maybe you do need a night to simply forget about this doomsday of a trip. It’s only a few edibles and one night… it couldn’t possibly harm you. 

Exhaling sharply and crossing your arms, you glide your tongue inside your cheek. “What kind of edibles are they?” 

 Jungkook lights up like a golden retriever, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Sativa-dominant, they give you the nicest body high you’ll ever experience.” 

 You’re not convinced, appraising the oh-so-delighted expression on his face. “Oh really? What’s it supposed to feel like?” 

 Jungkook quirks a brow. “It’ll make you feel like your body is heated, and any touch will feel like snowflakes kissing your skin.” He closes the space between you two, slowly bringing his hand to your bicep. He grips lightly, gliding his thumb across your skin. “The ocean air will feel like petals caressing you, the music will feel like it’s vibrating through your feet, dancing will feel like any negative energy is melting away.” 

 Jungkook’s finger glides across your shoulder, over your collarbones, until it nestles over your lips. “You just have to try.” 

 You swallow before lightly smacking his hand away, the buzz of your Bellini providing you with newfound courage. “And who says I trust you enough to be high with you?” 

 Maybe it was the alcohol, but you swear Jungkook’s eyes soften. “You once honoured me by trusting me with your body. May I ask that you trust me once more?” He grasps your hand and cradles it like a gentleman, his expression far from conniving. 

 He appeared charming. 

 You give in, rolling your eyes. “Oh God, fine.” 

Jungkook lights up, peering around as the bar changes its rhythm from a down-to-earth soul to a lively beat. He guides you to the dancefloor, moving his body to the addicting music. You’re impressed by how well he moves, having forgotten during your drunken escapade nights before. His shoulders groove and his feet effortlessly follow, his happy energy electrifying you. 

 Your body responds to his, feeling the Latin music charge your muscles and drive you to move. Your hips start swaying, arms infected with the need to wave them in the air. You laugh as Jungkook imitates your moves, moving side to side and dancing with his back to you. A snort leaves his mouth as you bring the cringe moves out, the sprinkler making an appearance as Jungkook piggybacks with a whip and nae/nae. 

 A series of ugly giggles escape you, instantly covering your mouth. 

 “Oh my God, is that a laugh?!” Jungkook asks over the music. 

 “Shut up, the only thing funny here is you!” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes before he reaches into his pocket, a mischievous smile painting his lips. “Let’s take them?” 

 Your eyes light up at the site of the colourful gummies, your craving for a good time overwhelming you. You wait for any sense of hesitancy to stop you, the logical part of you to rip your desires to shreds, but nothing is strong enough. 

Jungkook was right, he’s never given you a reason to believe he’d harm you during a vulnerable time. 

 And right now, you need a fun, wild ride, not a depressing night to yourself. 

 You nod, Jungkook meeting your fiery gaze with his own. He splits the gummies equally and informs you of the dosage. You’re aware of your tolerance and ensure him you’re alright with the amount he’s offering. On the count of three, you both pop the edibles in your mouths, adoring the blue raspberry flavouring. 

 You swipe some sugar from your lip onto your tongue. “How long will it take to feel them?” 

 “Usually around 30 minutes for me,” Jungkook informs. “Probably the same for you.” 

 “No worries,” you grin. “I don’t plan on going anywhere in that time. Do you?” 

 Jungkook laughs. “Not-at-fucking-all.” 

 Dancing has never felt so good.

 Euphoria is a sore understatement, every vein in your body is buzzing with adrenaline. Jungkook was right yet again; the breeze radiated your skin, your bones felt loose and your head was far beyond cloud nine, abandoning every shred of negativity on planet Earth.

 The best part of it all? Jungkook was being fun. He wasn’t making snarky comments or being a grade-A asshole, he was genuinely personable and amusing to be around. His high energy kept you alive and his silly dancing erupted many laughs from you. 

 The DJ tonight mainly kept the mix upbeat and lively, though he descended into a small RnB snippet, playing more sultry, slow songs. That’s when your body grapples with every desire residing within it, moving without shame.

 It's only once your eyes meet Jungkook’s insatiable ones, did you realize he’s practically eating you up. Your brain tells you there’s something wrong with that, but you can’t find an answer as to why. 

 Your core flares at the way he gazes, a small smile on his lips. His look wasn’t lascivious, rather appreciative of a masterpiece before him. You bite your lip, the sudden need to feel him on your body overwhelming you. He is such a delicious man, you thought to yourself, emboldened enough to admit it to yourself. 

 The current song vibrates through you as you gravitate towards Jungkook as the moon does with the Earth. Dancing with him feels like second nature, memories from your previous night together spilling in. 

 You couldn’t help but admire him as his skin glistened in the ambient lighting of the beach bar, his hair tousled with sea air, but it only made him appear more handsome. His chest popped in the linen button-up shirt adorning his stunning body, practically calling for your hands to caress. 

 Your next move is just that, slowly sliding over his marble statue of a chest before linking around his neck. Glancing up at him, you're close enough to feel his breath, bodies pressed up against each other. 

 Jungkook smirks, snaking his veiny hands around your waist, clearly just as into this as you. He leans his head down, connecting your foreheads as he begins guiding your hips with his. You didn’t expect the connection to shoot a scorching hot shock through you, something deep inside igniting. 

 You suddenly need to be closer to him, letting your body do the talking. You could feel the lyrics and bass of the song enlivening every aching part of you, the tension rising. Your gazes lock in that moment, and you swear you can see what’s going on behind Jungkook’s fiery eyes. 

 He’s thinking about that night; the night your bodies moulded together and your hands touched places nobody else sees. You reminisce on the feelings that overwhelmed you then. The innate pull towards him, the warmth of being touched by him, his masculine scent and mannerisms and strong body awakening your femininity. 

 You watch Jungkook swallow, knowing damn well he feels this crazy chemistry between you. It’s so palpable you are practically drowning in it, suffocating from all the possibilities that could exist between you two. 

 Biting your lip, you can’t help but let out a sigh, the dirtiest of thoughts running through your head. It’s as though Jungkook reads them, his expression showing… pain. 

 “Don’t give me that look.” 

 You scrunch your eyebrows. “What look?” 

 “Like you need me right now or you’ll die.” 

 The high in your bloodstream almost stops you from snapping at him with something clever. “I could never need you, Jeon.” 

 “You sure about that?” Jungkook hums, running his delicious hands over your lower back, just brushing above your ass—your breath hitches, skin lighting on fire. “Because it seems like your body doesn’t share that sentiment.” 

 You huff. “Oh please, you’re being unfair.” You pout. “I will never want you, Jeon Jungkook. Never, in a million years.” 

 “Oh yeah?” Jungkook replies, his voice low and soft, closing in on your face. You can sense him vividly, his demeanour having shifted, his eyes scanning all your features before fixating on your lips. You lick them in response, hanging onto every breath as your heart pounds in your ears. 

 “Yeah,” you whisper, tongue-tied. “Never… ever…” 

 “Yeah?” Jungkook chides you. “Never… right?” 

 Not a moment later, Jungkook’s lips crash into yours.

 They typically depict fireworks gushing whenever you feel the lips of someone you’ve yearned for. Soft, pretty eruptions that spill butterflies into your stomach. 

 This didn’t feel like fireworks, it felt like every cell in your body decided to burst. 

 Your bloodstream was invaded by your unbearable yearning for Jungkook, savouring the taste of his tongue shyly lapping at your mouth. Your fingers navigated to his hair, slightly tugging when your body pressed against his. 

 Jungkook breathed into you, his hands gripping you tighter and gravitating towards your ass as he deepened the kiss. After multiple asks, your mouth invites Jungkook’s tongue, moaning when it spills into yours and begins licking with all its might. You match his movements, entertaining a song and dance that compels you to throw yourself onto this delicious man. 

 His hands begin scavenging your body, hugging you so tightly to him you’re sure he could hear your heart pounding. Your lust overcomes you, face heating as the weed tosses all judgment out the window. 

 Just when your skin starts to burn and your core rapidly pulses, Jungkook detaches himself from you, breathless, his pupils so dilated he appears completely enamoured. 

 “We’re leaving.” He asserts, clasping your wrist and dragging you off the dance floor. 

 Your hip knocks over items on a night table as Jungkook pins you to a wall, furiously making out with you. You become addicted to his taste, unable to stop, your moans bouncing off the walls of your shared room. 

 Jungkook scales your body and finds your hands before you can wrap them around his neck, caging them above you. 

 He dives in amorously for your neck, your leg slinking around his hip as he assumes a gentle thrusting motion. It ignites your center, which likely glistened with your wetness by now. You could only recall faint memories of Jungkook’s dick from all those nights ago, though one memory was clear. 

 He was long, and he was thick. 

 You feel his manhood press up against your heat, intoxicated by his deep, wet kisses. His tongue drags across your skin up to your ear, shuddering with pleasure. He glides back down to your neck, suckling and nibbling with sensuality so intoxicating, the weed felt like a background prop. 

 Every atom in your body felt comfortable, giving away all control to him. His hot mouth was nothing but pure bliss, satiating your animalistic hunger for him. He consumed you so carnally, so passionately, that your mind was nothing but a blank canvas waiting to store the art of tonight. 

 “Do you remember now, Y/N?” Jungkook huffs. 

 “Remember… what?” You swallow, cotton mouth starting to kick in, though you’re far too horny to care. 

 “Remember how compatible we are?” He hums by your ear “Remember how well our bodies mould together?” 

 You shiver, the muscles in your body tensing, blood rushing towards your soaked pussy. “No… not at all. I don’t remember.” 

 “Let me remind you.” 

 Jungkook hoists you up against his body, your legs wrapping around his torso. It felt familiar, normal, coded into the very fabric of your DNA to do so. There was no need to think with Jungkook; every feeling, movement, and decision you made with him in this moment felt natural, as though you were meant to make it.

 The warmth of him ignites you, searching for his eyes as your body vibrates for him. You can’t help but dig your hands into his luscious hair, encaptivated by his presence, his handsome face. Jungkook kisses you fervently once again, fiercely, as though he were attempting to unlock the memories he once had of you. 

 His strong body against yours shoots currents throughout your core, electrifying the right places. Suddenly the room you share is too small, your skin heating up despite there being no change in the room’s temperature. 

 The wall met your back as Jungkook shoved you against it, core burning for him like a thousand suns. You could tell the high of the edibles began to hit you, your skin becoming foreign to you, invigorating pleasure replacing it. 

 The same feeling overcame Jungkook, who became rougher, hotter, and more desperate. When you bit his lip, Jungkook suddenly cupped your ass with his arm. His other was freed, slinking it over your body until it met your breast. 

 You moaned, the feeling of being manhandled by him nothing short of heaven. He clutches your breast and begins deliciously palming you, drawing more desperate sounds out of you.

 Jungkook breathed hard as he heard, gripping you tighter as he began rocking his body against yours. Another moan spilt out of you, the edibles offering nothing but electricity to your veins. Your pussy pulsed, aching for something to fill her up. You wanted to cry, weaving your hands through Jungkook’s hair and deepening your kiss. 

 You didn’t know it would make things worse, the high driving every feeling you had to cloud nine. You grow louder, pleasure coursing through you so vividly that you have no common sense. 

 You lose yourself, loudness overcoming you, suddenly becoming so aware of your volume. You grow self-conscious, the marijuana disguising all reason as giggling wrecks your body. 

 Separating from Jungkook to laugh, the weed made you feel like air, uncontrollable chortles escaping you until Jungkook loses it too. 

 He cracks up, feeling his body shake against you. He smiles so widely you can’t help but return it. 

 “Why are you giggling?” Jungkook coos, somehow still effortlessly supporting your weight. Your high brain feels a current when you think about it, though subside it. 

 “Because this is funny.” You snort, “only a few edibles later and we can’t get our hands off each other. How are we going to prove to our parents that we hate each other?” 

 “Simple,” Jungkook answers. “We indulge in each other now, and put on a show for later” 

 Jungkook dives for your neck, laying wet, sloppy kisses along your aching skin. At first, it feels like bliss, driving you to give in and relish in the fiery, invigorating sensation of the lips. 

 But then your brain does what it usually does; overthinks. 

 “Wait, wait, wait…” You breathe, placing your palm in between Jungkook’s delicious pecks. 

 “What?” Jungkook’s lust-filled eyes focus on you, clearly far gone. 

 “It just sounded like you said you want the satisfaction of having me now, only to ignore me later?”

 Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. “What?” 

 You attempt to focus, purposefully fighting off the effects of the weed to clear your judgment. “What you just said,” you hiccup, “you just want to fuck me for the fun of it? Like I’m just something to have again?” 

 You watch as Jungkook shakes his head, pretty lips puckering with wonder. “I’m not following; when did I say such a thing? Those weren’t my words.” 

 “They may not have been your exact words…” you trail, speech slowed by the marijuana swimming in your bloodstream. “But that’s essentially what you said.” 

 “Are you… listening to yourself?” Jungkook questions. “I didn’t say any of those words at all.” 

 “Yes, you did.” You double-down. “Maybe not those exact words, but that’s what you’re insinuating.” 

 Jungkook freezes, his under-the-influence brain computing your supposed logic. “Okay… so when did it become normal for people to twist other people’s words? I never called you something to have.”

 Perhaps you were too high to be having this conversation, but you took immediate offence to that. “Okay… and when did it become normal to gaslight people? You literally said let’s have fun now and go back to hating each other after. That’s an obvious ploy to just get in my pants.” 

 Jungkook scoffs derisively. “You sincerely have a problem with making me the villain in your story every second of every day.” His voice heightens with frustration. “How are you twisting my words in such a vile way? I wasn’t using you for sex. We were just having a good time and you had to ruin it with this nonsense.” 

 “Wow…” You huff, shoving him off you and landing on the ground. “You can’t simply try to understand that what you said was harmful? How it might’ve made me feel?” 

 Jungkook shakes his head, hands resting on his hips as he scorns. “So now you’re accusing me of having no emotional intelligence?” 

 “Oh, trust me.” You raise a hand, words muddled by the weed. “No need for an accusation. These are pure facts. If you had emotional intelligence, you would’ve understood that your words were harmful and apologized rather than defend yourself.” 

 “So that’s what you’re saying?” Jungook furrows his brows. “What I said hurt you? How could it hurt you? I thought you’ve always wanted nothing to do with me and hated my guts. Of course, I would think that all we can have is endless attraction but no real connection; that’s why I said those words.”

 You pause, Jungkook’s words impaling you with a truth you didn’t think you’d face. Why did his words hurt you? When has anything Jungkook said ever elicited such emotions from you? He’s correct, you hate this man, and you’re not meant to have anything beyond a physical attraction to him. 

 Self-reflection colours your features, left with no choice but to chalk up your unresolved thoughts and feelings to the ridiculous high. There’s no way you can explain yourself out of this other than to blame it on the intoxication. You are not developing anything beyond attraction to Jungkook, he’s only a chapter in your story, not the entire book. You are meant to act out this amicable relationship-turned-sour to convince your parents of the damnation of this match until he disappears from your life. 

 You are not meant to have something more with Jeon Jungkook. Ever. 

 “I’m not sober enough for this,” you eventually croak, shying away from him. You can’t even meet his blazing gaze. “I’m sorry, but I take back any consent or whatever; the weed is making me feel weird.” 

 Jungkook immediately backs up, concern dawning on his features, but he masks it with a tightened jaw and raised hands. “No need to say sorry, I respect that. We won’t do anything unless you’re comfortable.” 

 You wince at the warmth that floods your chest, hating that he could have such an effect on you. Why does it make your chest ache when he so naturally shows you consideration? This is basic human decency, he’s just being a decent human. 

 “Thanks,” you swallow, “I feel like I need to crash.” 

 “Same,” he swallows, clearing his throat as he puts distance between you two. “But I’m having the munchies. I’m gonna head out for some food.” 

 You try not to read into it, but perhaps he’s providing you with space after what transpired. You silently thank him for it, flashing him a quick smile before he nods and vacates the room, unsurely scratching the back of his head. 

 A sigh of relief escapes you, hand over your heart as it unexpectedly races. You can’t find it within yourself to search for an explanation for that moment, replaying it in your mind. It loops to a point that you huff out with frustration, head heavy with rumination and marijuana. 

 “Ugh!” You exclaim, beating yourself up with the confusing moment. You grind your teeth like a petulant child for some time before sleep attacks you, eventually slipping away into a quiet slumber on your bed. 

  “Stop saying that, stop saying that!” 

 “Ma’am, I apologize, but you have to accept the reality.” 

 All you can hear is your erratic heartbeat, the way it crashes so violently into your chest. There is no air in your throat, blocked by a bulbous lump. No words were available in any language to encapsulate the pain that wracked your chest, devastation running rampant. 

 “This isn’t my fault, I didn’t do this.” 

 Denial rushed through you, veins coursing with a complicated concoction of guilt, shock, adrenaline, and agonizing, agonizing pain. 

 “Bidulgi…” Your mother sobbed, clutching her heart where you envisioned a hole had now opened up, bleeding with her unbridled suffering. “How could you, how could you do this… how could you do this!” 

 Your mother screamed so loudly that every head on the patient floor turned. Her volume instantly filled your eyes with tears, feeling the weight of the world crash down on you. You caved, knees buckling to the floor. 

 You didn’t do this, you didn’t do this, you didn’t do this… “It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault!”

 How could you have known? How could you have seen the car? How could you have known it would hurdle towards you at that speed?

 “I’m sorry…” you croak, limbs losing the ability to move. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

 Those two words escaped your lips repeatedly, watching the scene unfold before you, layers of your soul peeling until you became raw. “I’m sorry, Dad, I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

 “I will never forgive you for this…” Your mother wailed, gripping your sweaty shirt. “I won’t, I won’t ever forgive you!”

 “Leave me alone, it’s not my fault…” You choked, air running thin. “It’s not my fault, It’s not my fucking fault!” 

 You awaken with a violent gasp, immediately searching for oxygen. You’re drenched in sweat, clutching the sheets to your chest as anxiety wrecks your limbs. You’re met with the darkness of your room, swathed by the terror of your nightmare. 

 A flashback. 

 Muscle memory kicks in, taking deep breaths in order to calm your palpitating heart. The shakes still overwhelmed you, cheeks stained with tears. You’re not aware of your surroundings whatsoever, grasping at any sense of normalcy until your system is shocked by a presence. 

 “Y/N?” 

 You jerk with a yelp, backing up until you crash into the wall behind you. Your sight adjusts to reveal your least considered expectation, Jungkook. 

 “Y/N…” he trails, squinting his eyes at you. “What are you… are you alright?” 

 Embarrassment immediately floods your chest, reminding you that you are, in fact, sharing a room with Jungkook. You’re on what’s supposed to be a relaxing cruise with his family. He must’ve returned while you were dead as a log—he must’ve been asleep too considering his groggy, deep voice. “I’m… I’m just…” 

 “You’re just…?” Jungkook drags out, attempting to make sense of your unruly state.

 You swallow, breaths incredibly heavy. “I just… had a dream.” 

 “That didn’t sound like a dream.” He remarks, leaning over your bed to examine your features in the near pitch-black darkness, only the moonlight from your window illuminating your face. “That sounded like a nightmare.” 

 “Why do you care?” You ask uncouthly. “Why are you so incredibly nosey?” 

 He quirks a brow. “So showing someone you care is now called being nosey? Why are you incredibly insistent on twisting everything into negativity?” 

 Sending a dirty look his way, you notice your heart is no longer racing–somehow Jungkook’s annoying presence calmed you. You take one last breath before lowering your hand from your chest. Your senses come to you, assessing the situation. “I’m alright now, you can go back to bed.”

 Jungkook’s soft eyes analyzed you, revealing a tinge of concern. He scoffs before you can question it. “How can I do that when you snore like a goddamn elephant?” 

 Your jaw falls agape, unbelieving of his wild mouth. Amusement threatens to curve your lips, immediately controlling it. “Shut up.” 

 You hug your knees to your chest, fingers twiddling together as you focus on your breathing, eyes shut, ensuring no aftershocks from that flashback attack you. It was a normal part of your trauma, a routine now embedded into your bones. You finally achieve a sense of peace until you open your eyes, reminded that Jungkook is still here.

 You furrow your brows, appraising his shirtlessness before you; why have you never been warned of his dangerously good looks in the moonlight? It practically bounced off his washboard abs, emphasizing his muscular build. 

 “Hello?” Jungkook taunts, dragging up your gaze to meet his. 

 “Yes?” 

 “You know my eyes are up here, right?” He motions towards his round, doe eyes. Heat fills your face, despising how obvious you made your attraction to his body. 

 “Ew…” you cringe. “why would I ever look at you like that?” 

 He grins. “Right, the look on your face was one of disgust.” 

 You roll your eyes, sneering at his self-absorbed sarcasm. 

 A laugh spills from Jungkook’s pretty lips, lowering himself to the edge of your bed. “You know, if you give me that look again, our parents might shove us onto an altar.” 

 You narrow your eyes, scoffing. “Please, you know damn well they’ll do it whether or not we like each other.” The grogginess of your high begins to settle into your senses again, the adrenaline from your nightmare now dissipating. It cuts into your speaking ability, exhaustion catching up to you. “Even then, you know damn well I wouldn’t ever like you. So it only works out one way, fucking marrying each other.” 

 Jungkook, who is equally as absent from Mother Earth, peers at you dumbfounded. “That doesn’t matter Y/N. Our parents don’t care if we like each other or not, that’s the point.” 

 “The point of what?” 

 “The point of what I said.” 

 “Which is?!” 

 “Oh my God,” Jungkook exasperates, “the point of us getting married. It doesn’t matter if we like each other or not, they’ve never cared about our feelings. What they say goes; what losers.” 

 His dramatics entertain you, beginning to forget why you were perched up against the wall like this in the first place. Your shoulders relax, releasing your legs. “Losers indeed.” 

 Jungkook returns a small smile before peering outside the window of your room, pensive. He rolls his tongue inside his cheek as thoughts seem to plague him. You catch yourself studying how attractive this habit of his was; you instantly berate yourself. 

 “What did you see?” 

 “Hm?” 

 “Your nightmare…” He trails. “What did you see?” 

 That same lump from your dream bunches at the base of your throat, coughing to avoid it from suffocating you. “Nothing… it’s nothing.” 

 Jungkook presses his lips together, features softened with concern. “I don’t mean to push you, but it didn’t seem like nothing.” He voices. “Does this have to do with your violin performance from earlier?”

 Your breath catches, hating that he made such an observation. You don’t want him to figure it out, you don’t want anyone to connect the dots and remotely come close to unravelling the trauma that haunts you. You don’t want reminders, you don’t want support, you don’t want to revisit one of the biggest mistakes of your life. 

 “You’re being nosey, Jungkook.” You croak, fighting back the tears that well in your eyes. You pray they’re indecipherable to him, but your shaky tone most likely gives you away. 

 “You’re right.” Jungkook immediately backs off, lifting off your bed. “I shouldn’t pry. I’m just having a hard time seeing you upset, I guess.” 

 Your gaze snaps to his, shocked by those words. You share a moment of silence with him, your pairs of eyes fascinated by each other. You silently inquire him of his concern, and he returns a small look of ascension as if he doesn’t know why he feels that way, either. 

 He takes that as his cue to leave, turning his back on you–something compels you to speak up. “Jungkook.” 

 He spins at the sound of your call, eyes wide; “Yes?” 

 “Thank you,” you muster a half-smile, hugging your now cold frame.

 He merely replies with an appreciative grin and head nod, before crawling back into his bed. You hear his sheets rustle as he assumes a comfortable sleeping position, beckoning you to also find some shut-eye. 

 Turning towards your window, you peer at the night sky, ruminating over your feelings from tonight; one thought on repeat. 

 When did you start questioning everything that has to do with Jungkook? Are you doing this right?

🌒🌒🌒 Tuesday - Waxing Gibbous

The loud chatter of the crowd irritates you; your senses are on overdrive after the past two weeks you’ve had. Packing and moving everything you own across the river during the New Moon was unexpected—almost as unexpected of it being a result of a peace treaty signed by the Beta of your old pack after the death of Alpha Tyvrin. 

A Beta jostles you in an attempt to move closer to the raised platform at the far end of the civic center, and you shoot him a quick glare before turning your attention back to the men on stage to avoid any drama. An Omega glaring at a Beta isn’t as bad as if it was an Alpha, but insubordinate enough still. The new tribe members do not know your previous role in Duskfall and have every right to challenge any hierarchical disrespect.

“Quiet, please,” a voice rumbles quietly, but everyone in the room follows the directive. You recognize the Alpha Father, or the father of the Alpha-Heir and most recent Pack Alpha of Highcrest, at the podium. Your irritation drops as your senses can finally focus now that the room is silent. The smells of so many new pack members still suffocates your olfactory system, but it’s bearable now. One scent seems to overpower the rest, a clean forestry smell that seems to dilute the others. “Good evening, and thank you all for coming tonight. We hope you all have been acclimating to the changes these past few weeks. If you have any concerns, please reach out to any of us here.” 

The Alpha Father waves over his son, stepping aside to let him take the lead of the rest of the meeting. Your eyes drink in the lithe movements highlighted by the fit of his suit. “Thank you, Alpha Father. For those of you who are joining us from Duskfall, at the time of the New Moon three months prior, I began the ascension steps. Right before your arrival, I had just finished the last of the three trials. All that remains is the bonding.”

You look around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction to his voice as you are—the crowd is transfixed; all attention is on the Alpha Heir Kim Namjoon. He’s young, almost thirty, but commands the stage. It’s not just because he’s handsome, though the blue suit and his dark brown hair help. His aura oozes from afar, your inner wolf screaming at you that this is a man you would follow and it’s your turn to receive a dirty look as you bump into the person in front of you. You turn back to the stage, ears attuning to his baritone as he continues.

“—final ceremony will take place in three days, and as you all know, I will be selecting my mate. I know that there are many newcomers who may be wary of joining the pack with all of these changes happening so soon, but please have faith in us. Highcrest will protect you all, and we will be at full strength as soon as the full moon rises in a week.”

Some applause breaks out, and his confidence soothes the wolf inside you that worries about this treaty. Highcrest sits on the eastern side of the Twin Rivers split, atop the range that leads to Twin Falls. Your previous pack, Duskfall, was integrated into Highcrest two weeks ago after Shadowhide attacked and killed Alpha Tyvrin under the cover of the New Moon, in a successful attempt at taking the land between the two streams. 

The fertile soil and access to the freshwater source has been a source of contention between Duskfall and Shadowhide for decades, and while a group consisting of the Alpha, Beta and his best warriors patrolled your western border, Shadowhide attacked. The Beta and a few others escaped by the grace of the moon, which gave the pack enough warning to prepare and kept Shadowhide at bay now that the act of surprise was gone. With the Alpha slain and the clock ticking before Shadowhide invaded, the Beta had no choice but to reach out to Highcrest for help. A peace treaty was signed, allowing all pack members of Duskfall to join Highcrest in exchange for their commitment to the pack. Any members who were against the treaty were allowed to leave of their own volition and go back to the main city, or find a pack of their choosing, but with the danger of Shadowhide’s takeover imminent, everyone agreed to travel east across the river and up the mountain range to the safety of Highcrest.

“Thank you to all of Duskfall’s former pack for all of your patience with us as we’ve worked to create a space for all of you here in Highcrest. After the ceremony, which is open to all unmated Omegas, everyone from Duskfall will officially be of Highcrest, and those who have not yet finished their commitment rites can do so at that time.”

You watch as Kim Namjoon waves over a tall, slender woman with sleek hair falling down her back. She is the picture of elegance, her walk stalking forward in a hypnotic fashion as she steps beside the Alpha-Heir and speaks to the crowd. You recognize her from the Apothecary you’ve been training in ever since you’ve settled into your new life here.  

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Min Everlight, an Omega of pack Highcrest. I am the head healer for the pack, and if Alpha Namjoon is ever unavailable, please come see me down at the Apothecary. I’ll help in whatever capacity I can in his absence.” Her hand moves almost subconsciously towards his, and they intertwine fingers. “We have committed our lives to this pack, and all of us up here will do our best to provide for Highcrest. Please stop by the apothecary this week if you haven’t yet received the Aconite to remove your Duskfall markings in preparation for your Highcrest one.”

Everlight stays linked to Namjoon as he takes a slight step forward to end the meeting.

“When the crescent rises,” he begins, and the people around you intone their response. 

“We, too, shall rise.”

Walking under the waxing gibbous, you and your Beta roommate, Sana, wave goodbye to one of your elderly neighbors. You’ve been checking on all of the members of your old pack, helping them in any way you can to get them acclimated after work. You go home tired every night, but you want to make sure this merger works.

Sana skips ahead as your new home comes into sight, singing the Alpha-Heir’s praises. “He’s so brilliant, I promise you this is the best thing that could’ve happened to us. And Min Everlight? She’s amazing, right? You’ve been working under her these past couple of weeks, isn’t she effervescent?”

You laugh at her excitement, answering her vaguely as you unlock the door to your shared home. “She knows her stuff, that’s for sure. I’ve learned a few new things already since we’ve been here, but most of it I already knew.” Sana dreamily wanders to her bedroom, ignoring your slight diss and chattering mostly to herself about how wonderful tribe Highcrest is. You plop onto the couch unceremoniously, thoughts on Min Everlight. 

Everlight is effervescent, with an inner glow that makes her the perfect Omega as mate for the Alpha-Heir. You’ve heard from the other women at the Apothecary that she and Namjoon have been dating for years. Longtime sweethearts and—if their little show on stage meant anything—his choice for his mate. This thought makes you feel sick, because ever since you walked away from Duskfall and followed him to Highcrest, your heart has thrummed for him. 

Taking a deep breath that you let out with a sigh, you change your line of thinking before you venture towards a vitriol hatred of your soon-to-be female leader. Min Everlight has been nothing but motherly and nurturing to all of you since your arrival, but the more you see her all over the Alpha-Heir, the harder it is to like her. Not just because of her romantic relationship with Namjoon, either, but that she represents everything that you almost were, and reminds you of everything you lost.  

You scratch at your upper arm over your shirtsleeve, where the Aconite serum you rubbed on earlier dissolves your Duskfall tattoo in preparation for your Highcrest one. The Aconite is diluted and mixed with other herbs to prevent poisoning that would weaken you before the ceremony. Sana disappears into the shared bathroom to shower, and you close your eyes for a moment not meaning to fall asleep as you wait for your turn.

The moon goddess blesses you with dreams of Duskfall past, memories of your destined path as the tribe’s Luna-to-be—the Omega paired to the now fallen Alpha Tyvrin—and you wake to the reality that all you have trained for was for naught.  

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous

Or, more like you wake with the sudden slam of a door, sitting upright as you squint to keep back the sunlight. 

“Damn, you slept on the couch?” Sana questions, looking cheery and well-rested.

You clear your throat to answer. “Yeah, I guess so. What time is it?”

Sana glances at her watch. “Um, it’s half past eight.”

“Shit, I overslept, and I’m supposed to meet with Everlight again today.” You stand abruptly, and begin organizing all of the large pillows on the couch, laying the blanket just so until you hear Sana laughing at you. You look up at her with a glare. “What?”

“I think you might be in pre-heat. You’ve fluffed that pillow at least three times, and that blanket cannot be folded over the back of the couch any more perfectly unless you’ve got a protractor in the cabinet.”

“There’s no way, it hasn’t been enough time since the last one.” You ignore her as you clamber back onto the couch, tucking your legs up under you seemingly forgetting your plans for the day.

“Your heat is probably gearing up because of some Alpha at the meeting last night. With Tyvrin gone, rest in moonlight, you’re no longer taking the suppressants are you? With everything that’s happened, it makes sense that you’d forget,” she theorizes, “and apparently Highcrest doesn’t have that practice here.”

You can’t believe you’ve forgotten. In Duskfall, you were chosen by Alpha Tyvrin to be his mate, and asked to take suppressants until the ceremony. This was to help to prevent you from having a heat, decreasing your pheromones from triggering any non-bonded Alpha’s into their ruts and endangering you. These past few weeks since the move, you haven’t been taking any suppressants, and you’re sure by now it's run its course and is out of your system.  

“They don’t practice that here?”

“No, weren’t you listening at the meeting? The Alpha-Heir doesn’t choose his mate the same way like in Duskfall. Highcrest has a different ceremony. All unmated Omega’s can be part of it.”

“But isn’t Everlight most likely going to be chosen anyways?”

“I hear there’s blindfolds involved, so maybe instead of sulking, and filling the apartment with your sour scent, you can just join the ceremony and give it a try.”

The news fills your chest with what feels like sunbeams, and you smile at the Beta as you relax into what you’re now realizing is a nest.

“Ah, the room smells so much nicer now. Also—you’re late.”

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous

Kim Namjoon sits patiently outside the Apothecary, waiting for Everlight to finish for the day. He can sense her inside, her scent a fresh scent of clean linen, just brought down off of the line after soaking in the sun. It’s always been the strongest scent to him, out of all of the women in Highcrest, and he’s sure that the Moon Goddess will prove her to be his mate this weekend when he ascends to his Alpha status. 

Fingers drumming along his clothed knee, he hums to himself as he watches the sunrays filtering through the trees as it sets. The small bell above the door chimes as small groups of girls and women of all ages trickle out from the shop—Everlight hosted a gathering after work for all of the newcomers to review the Highcrest ceremony procedures for women, and they all bow respectfully when they catch sight of him seated in the chair near the door. 

Namjoon can’t help but wonder what else they were working on today, his nose itches to investigate whatever new tonic or serum she’s put together this time—the smell is amazing. Like a warm honey coating his tongue, hints of bourbon with small bursts of brown sugar peaking his interest. He hopes it’s not something inedible, like the Aconite serum, and his curiosity getting the better of him, he stands, unbuttoning his suit jacket and moving to peer through the small glass windows framed in the center of the door. 

Ah, he thinks as he takes in one of the new pack members, Everlight must have let one of the Duskfall women teach a new tonic. Namjoon recognizes you through the dusty glass standing in front of the group, and remembers that his Beta, Seokjin, had pointed you out from afar when you first arrived.

🌑Two Weeks Ago 🌑 Monday - New Moon

“That’s Alpha Tyvrin’s mate, er—was his mate. They hadn’t actually had the ceremony yet, the attack happened before the full moon ceremony could happen, but she was set to be Duskfall’s Luna.” Seokjin’s finger points down the lane from the window of City Hall, connecting to a woman walking towards the villager housing area. Namjoon eyes you warily before posing a series of questions to his Beta.

“Will it be an issue to have two mature Luna’s in a pack? Should we offer to place her with another pack to mate with an Alpha?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t ever heard of something like this happening. Typically the Alpha has already mated the Luna, and since one cannot live without the other—”

“I see.” Namjoon understands why the Moon Goddess would create such a fate for paired leaders. “Had the ceremony already happened, she would be buried next to him. It could be a help, now that we have so many more people, to have two strong healers in the pack. Maybe she could travel on patrols in case of an attack?” He wonders how Everlight would react to finding out that there’s another Luna-trained Omega in the pack, and if this would be a way to spin it to lessen any blowback. 

Seokjin looks thoughtful, eyebrows lifted as he tilts his head and gathers his words carefully. “That could be a good option for the second Luna, so that their training and skills do not go to waste, especially now that our pack has grown…It could also be worth mentioning—with so many new members, it would be a good show of faith if you were to perhaps choose the Duskfall Luna as your mate—”

Namjoon’s growl silences Seokjin momentarily but he presses on when he sees no claws being barred. 

“I’m just saying, nothing helps unite two packs better than having one of their own integrated into the upper levels of the hierarchy. If we want to keep peace and help Duskfall feel loyalty to Highcrest, taking their to-be-Luna as your mate would be the smart move. You and Everlight aren’t fated, so it’s not like our pack would frown upon it under the circumstances—”

Namjoon’s eyes cut like daggers as he stares his Beta down, almost dragon-like in ferocity as he contains his inner beast. “Everlight is my mate, Seokjin. I would never betray her like that.” 

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday (present) - Waxing Gibbous

Looking at you now, Namjoon is glad to see that you and Everlight seem to have no issues working alongside each other. After reading through previous Alphas’ historical notes and reviewing the history of the packs of the Twin Rivers Valley, he decided that it would be best to keep you around, as he worries his newest constituents would revolt if they thought he had banished you from Highcrest. He spent the first couple of weeks talking to other elder members of Duskfall, and learned that a lot of the pack had come to rely on you as they became acclimated, that you had been going around to visit with them and check-in, and keep them all calm with the changes happening. 

He appreciated that you had taken this on as a duty, especially when you were dealing with the biggest blow of all. Namjoon meant to meet with you to thank you, but the longer he took, the more it felt fake, rehearsed, and like an afterthought instead of what it really was: an Alpha-Heir not yet familiar with his role, and learning about you from afar made him feel like a weird stalker of sorts that he had all this knowledge of you and your skills from others.  

Your skills would be most useful to their pack, and though you were meant to lead the pack by an Alpha’s side, you could still maintain some modicum of that role, just as the second to Everlight. Namjoon is sure this plan will work. He plans to have a meeting with Seokjin and Everlight tonight, that way he can make sure that they will follow his plan without any issues. 

He knows he could just order everyone to follow along, but using his Alpha to force others to do what he wants doesn’t always work out in the long run. The history of the tribal lands and the fact that there were three distinct tribes from the original one, up until Tyvrin’s death, is proof of that. 

It’s much better for a leader to have the consenting loyalty of his pack, instead of forced fealty that brews contempt and derision. Namjoon steps back from the door to allow another person to exit, and once again, the honeyed bourbon seeps through the opening. It’s much stronger this time, urging him to his feet almost against his will. 

He feels his blood thrumming, pounding through his veins like a rushing river. Namjoon checks his forehead, as if feverish, and notices his hand comes back with a sheen of sweat. It’s like he’s gone into pre-rut, which would be crazy. He’s pretty regular when it comes to his ruts lining up with Everlight’s heats, and she’s still not due for a little bit…

Namjoon stumbles backward, taking the three steps back to solid ground quickly as he tugs at the collar of his buttoned shirt. He’s too hot, it’s all too much, he has to do something, move, but he’s in the middle of the town, there are people who look to him to be more restrained than this standing all around…Namjoon trips a little on the gravel beneath his feet as he takes off back towards City Hall and away from Everlight, afraid that if she is due for her heat and his pre-rut was triggered by that, he would mount her right there in front of the last few people in the store and fuck her hard against the counter, not caring if everyone saw the powerful way he drove his cock in and out of her until he filled her with cum and knotted her.

He’s locked himself in his office, blinds closed with his fist wrapped around his thick length as he imagines it: his hands firm on the plump rounds of ass, spreading the cheeks apart as he spits between them, Omega slick lathering his cock with every stroke and the tight walls sucking him back in with every pump out, and when he cums—copious amounts leaking around his large hand—it’s only then that he realizes that it wasn’t the clean linen-scented Everlight he was imagining taking his knot.

🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous

You’re irritated—more so than you’ve been since your entire life was turned upside down two weeks ago. The Beta that’s always around the Alpha, Seokjin, randomly showed up at your place in the morning saying you were tasked to go on a supply run to the nearest city. It makes sense—Seokjin explained that the Alpha had handpicked everyone in the group to help new pack members meet others and start to learn their ways, and you appreciate it, except for the fact that you don’t want to be far from home right now. 

In fact, because of the upcoming ceremony, Everlight had let all of the women training in the apothecary have the next few days off, as she expected to be chosen and wanted to prepare herself and her home for what was to come. You had mixed feelings when she initially announced this to everyone, because while you enjoy the respite from the constant go-go-go of changes around you, the reason behind it left you feeling miffed. 

All of yesterday, you spent time working at the Apothecary and were even asked by some of the others to show them some tonics and potions that they had never heard of, and while you enjoy teaching others, it’s quite draining to go through the motions while talking through every step you make, and why. The girls quietly scribbled down your words in their notebooks, committing your teachings to paper, which made you feel good about yourself, until reality hit about your future. 

It almost didn’t feel fair that you were so new to the pack and already others were looking to you to train and teach them new things, meanwhile another person is slated to take the position you’ve wanted and trained for your whole life. 

Shaking away your thoughts, you tap back into the moment, finally having arrived in the bustling city a little past mid-day. You hate all of the smells; the odor rising from the sewer grates and scents from the people who jostle you as they rudely push past your group. You hold back the urge to plug your nose, sighing out a weighted exhale as you follow Seokjin through the automatic sliding doors and into a grocer’s market. 

🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous

Back in the forest, a half day’s trip from the city, Kim Namjoon spends his time in his office again, hiding out from his duties by disguising them as last minute studying and planning for the ceremony. 

He couldn’t bring himself to meet with Everlight the previous night, instead calling Seokjin only to discuss the plans for the supply run. He looked over the list of items Everlight needed in the apothecary, and only because the winter months were starting to fade away into spring meant this would be the last expensive trip until winter came again. 

Bees do not make honey in the winter, so why can’t he explain away the coincidence of the honey bourbon smell and the note written in Everlight’s scrawl next to the requested item underlined twice: Honey — we’ve been out for ages!! He doesn’t want to believe that he could be feeling this way for someone other than Everlight, but of two things he knows for sure: he smelled honey, and Everlight is distinctly NOT a honey smell. 

Seeing that on the list had Namjoon rise with a wild idea, to send the other Luna far, far away for the day, to help him clear his mind. In reality, he paces his office, wearing thin the once plush carpet with his worried steps until he can’t take it anymore. Crossing the room, he walks with such a force that no one dares to question where he’s off to. 

He knows where you live, knows that your Beta roommate Sana should be home, and when he knocks on the door with authority, he expects Sana to fling the door open so hastily that the movement sends the mixed scents of the apartment wafting out at him. Instantly, he expects his spine to straighten as his whole body is overwhelmed by the truth—except that never comes. No one is home, as a kind older woman politely points out to him after his third attempt at knocking. 

“Those girls went into town today, it seemed like the Luna had to drag Sana along with her,” she chuckled, clearly a pack member who was fond of the two women. “Did you want me to tell them you stopped by?”

“No! I mean—no need to worry them about my visit, I can talk to them tomorrow, thank you.”

He swiftly departs, deciding to just head home instead of back to the office for some peace.

“Joonie!”

Barely having set foot in his residence, Namjoon is bombarded with the irritating scent of laundry detergent. It’s too pungent; overwhelming in a way that he’s never experienced before. He catches himself before his nose wrinkles and Everlight ascends into his arms. He hugs her back, planting a soft kiss to the side of her head in an endearing manner before she pulls him into the dining room for an early dinner with his parents. 

Namjoon spends the evening engaged in conversation with his parents and Everlight, avoiding talks of the ceremony as best he can—despite his mother and girlfriend's best attempts. His dad eyes him warily—in that cunning way that only another Alpha can—sensing the change in the dynamics within the room. Namjoon is grateful his father remains quiet, simply watching the conversation over the nightcap of barrel-aged Cabernet Sauvignon from their cellar.

Once they call it a night and his parents disappear to their room, Everlight begs Namjoon to stay over, and unable to say no to the woman he’s never said no to before, he relents. He regrets this decision almost immediately, as his hopes that Everlight would help him take his mind off of the one thing that’s been at the forefront of it are crushed.   

“She’s just really good at healing. She knows a lot, like I can’t believe I’m even admitting it, but she knows things that I don’t. And the things I have been able to teach her, she learns it so quickly and easily. I’m actually kind of jealous.”

Namjoon can tell; Everlight’s face is scrunched up in a way that makes her look unattractive, and he doesn’t know what to do or to say to make her feel less insecure. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing she is joining our pack. It’s important to learn and grow continuously.” It’s as diplomatic as he can be at the moment.

“Yes, but she’s trained as a Luna, just like me. It’s a little like she’s trying to take my spot. Yesterday, while I was teaching, the other girls asked her to teach them something I didn’t know, and I just had to stand there and let her take over my lesson. The girls were so focused on her and taking notes, it made me kind of hate her.”

She’s looking at him, her eyes trying to find something within his, but he looks away, reaching for the light next to his bed.

Everlight reaches for him, aligning her body to his as her fingers grip his shoulders so she can position herself atop him.

“That’s why I can’t wait for the ceremony, baby. We can finally be a true, mated pair. Start our forever, with me as your Luna. No room for confusion from the pack about who will bear your pups.” Her eyebrows waggle up and down suggestively as she lowers her lips to his plump ones. “We can practice now if you want, you can scent me, let all the bitches in heat know to back off.” She kisses him again. 

Namjoon kisses her back, but her laundry odor fills his nasal cavity and her words are so off-putting for the role she hopes to take on for the pack. He can feel her hands travel down his ribcage, but nothing about her touch turns him on. Pulling away from the kiss, he catches his breath as he readies his excuse.

“Babe, I think we should wait,” his large hands hold her shoulders firmly before his touch grows softer, palms smoothing up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “The ceremony is so soon, and I want it to be sacred…I know that might sound cheesy and un-Alpha-like but—”

“No, you’re right.” Everlight smiles softly at him, but he can see the hurt in her eyes at being rejected. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed with all of the new pack members and the changes happening, I think I got a little over excited.”

“I love that about you, you know? You’re excitement over things, and how you want to be the best version of yourself for our pack. You’re already an amazing Luna in your own right.”

Everlight excuses herself to the bathroom, and Namjoon clambers off his bed, bare feet leading him towards his cracked bedroom window. In the light of the almost full moon, he can now see the noises that drew his attention moments ago: returning members of his pack walking down the path to their homes. 

There’s no mistaking it now. A warmth blooms from his groin, spreading higher until his neck grows hot from it as his nose and mouth feel thick with the sweetest bourbon honey scent. With you unaware of his gaze as you laugh with Seokjin and Sana, he feels jealousy boiling into his chest.

“Mine.”

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon

You wake up late on Friday morning, your body a little stiff and sore. You feel as if you slept with a heater on, sleep clothes clinging to your body due to the sweat that covers your skin. You try to shake it off, but the feeling doesn’t go away, even after a cold shower.

You’re not surprised you woke up mid afternoon after arriving back at Highcrest near midnight, but you suppose the excitement of what’s to come will keep you awake the rest of the evening. You have to meet the elders for the pre-ceremony rituals at the start of moonrise, so you eat a light snack in the hopes it won’t trouble your stomach too much. 

You know now that Sana is right. Your heat will kick in no later than tomorrow afternoon, with the confirmation of the night sweating and soreness symptoms appearing today, but you worry about what it will mean if you end up not being chosen…you’ll begin cramping and sink into Omega-space, leaving you vulnerable to other higher ranking pack members without a plan prepared to get you through your heat.

At quarter till six, you leave your home with a small bag of items and head to city hall, where Elder Aline waits for you and the other Omegas who planned to join the ceremony to arrive. Elder Aline was old—she worked closely with the Luna three times removed was in power, and lived to prepare both of her successors, and now would be helping to prepare this ceremony. 

You hug your bag to your chest as the last of the group arrives: Everlight. She only looks slightly surprised to see you in the group of seven Omega’s, but she fixes her facial features quickly and offers you a bright smile. 

“I didn’t expect to see you in the group!” Everlight’s tone is friendly enough, but the undercurrent of her words screams out territorial.

“Oh, yeah, my roommate said I should come as an unmated Omega to take part in the ceremony. It’s different from our previous pack’s tradition, and if I hope to carry out my duties and help with future ceremonies, the best way to learn is to be part of it, right?”

Your answer makes sense, perfectly curated to help push away any questions that dig too deep into your motivations, including yourself. Part of you knew that it would be beneficial to you if the worst comes to fruition, but the other part, the more primitive part, knows the real reason is because the wolf inside of you longs for your mate to be Kim Namjoon.  

Elder Aline calls for your attention, her weathered voice a calming stillwater that acts as a soothing balm to the nervous energy in your chest. She speaks to the group, sharing some information about how the rest of the night will play out before she leads your small group towards the outskirts of Highcrest, to the south of a small lake on the edge of the forest. The walk takes a bit of time to navigate the terrain, especially with an Elder leading. 

You allow her moments to pause and rest, clearly fatigued from traipsing through high grasses and uneven dirt, but soon enough you are there, and placed along the treeline, a small clearing awaits you. She makes quick work of explaining the first ritual’s steps, and you allow her voice to lead you through the routine. 

The cleansing ritual itself takes the better part of an hour, as everyone planning to participate strips down to enter the water under the light of the moon which now grazes the top of the trees. A small pouch filled with herbs and petals is handed to each of you to rid you of any lingering outside scents. You lather your skin, taking the time to clean every inch before stepping out to air dry. It’s colder than you expected, but no one wants to risk masking their scent for the ceremony. 

The elder had laid a simple white dress on the shore of the lake near your bag, and once dry, you sheathed your body with it, happy for the fabric to provide some warmth. She pulls a thermos from her bag along with small cups.

“Purified under the new moon,” she intones, handing you a steaming cup of tea. “Red azaleas, to pull out your emotions and attract your true mate.”

You sip it slowly, letting the heat warm your hands. The other women join you after the elder gives them each a cup, and you huddle in a circle, trying to stay warm.

“I think it’s good that we have so many of us for the ceremony,” Everlight speaks, her voice light and airy. “It would be a boring ceremony if I was here by myself.”

Her words were clearly chosen carefully, meant to sound like a compliment to the others for their company, while laying claim to the role not yet given to her by the moon. You bristle, feeling your body heat up. Her comments were starting to annoy you, because a true Luna was not insecure or haughty. She was a healer, a person that others could go to when they needed strength, compassion, or empathy. Everlight seemed to have forgotten this. 

“I think it is great that Highcrest’s tradition is different from ours, it feels more…pure.” You don’t know how else to describe it, but the act of having the alpha choose his mate through this ceremony feels like how it used to be. The elder hears you and her words confirm this. 

“This is the true ceremony. But come now, it is about time for us to begin.”

She leads you around to the north side of the lake. A small copse of trees had blocked the incoming sight, and now that you were closer, you could see the small gathering of pack members standing in a crescent.  

Directing you to step into the open space, she takes your cups from each of you as the seven of you line up with ample space between each other. You look around nervously. The cold you felt earlier when you were wet and naked exiting the lake was gone; you notice that you feel hot. You’ve felt hot since drinking the tea.

The crowd murmurs quietly to one another as you look around for Sana, finally finding her to the right near the top point of the moon shape they were standing in. She waves at you, a smile breaking across her face as she takes you in. 

All at once the noise in the forest dies out. The muttering follows suit, and Elder Aline steps before the crowd. 

“Before the great divide of the tribal lands, the Alpha’s mate was never set in stone until the ceremony was completed. Even if the Alpha had taken many lovers as a young pup, it matters not, for what the moon reveals is the truth. And an Alpha dare not disobey the moon, lest the pack fall weak.”

She then begins her tale of the history of the original tribe they descended from. 

“Many, many moons ago, we once existed as a proud and noble pack led by an Alpha of unmatched strength and wisdom named Lycaon. Under his reign, our pack thrived, united as one for the good of the group. We honored the ancient laws dictated by the phases of the moon, for we knew the moon's power was both a gift and a curse. Before the divide, we could shapeshift along with the phases of the moon.

But Lycaon, with his pride swelling within him like a thunderous storm cloud, began to question the moon's choice for his fated mate. He refused his fated Omega, instead choosing who he wanted, and not who our celestial goddess knew our pack needed. Ignoring the warnings of his most trusted Betas, Lycaon decided that his unborn son would also choose his own mate, not the moon.

At first, this defiance seemed to have no negative impact. But before long, cracks began to appear between pack members. By refusing the moon's guidance, the pack ended up with an Alpha-chosen Luna who was not prepared for her role. The rejected Luna fell melancholy, and took her own life, saying she could not watch the ruin of her pack. Some wolves found themselves unable to control their shifting, and began to attack their own kin in fits of madness. Other pack members grew weak—their bodies unable to withstand the impact of their dual nature.”

The entire crowd was enraptured hearing the tale, as Duskfall members did not know the history, and you are among them in learning the true history of the divide.

“As chaos descended upon our once-proud pack, Lycaon's authority waned as the full moon wanes. Desperate to maintain his grip on the pack, he resorted to ruling the pack with fear instead of respect. But his efforts only fueled the flames of discord, and soon, the pack was torn asunder by fights and betrayal.

In the aftermath of our pack's collapse, three new packs rose from the one, each led by a different wolf claiming to be the one true Alpha. They fought for the lands we stand upon today, with Lycaon’s son, Claudin, taking the hills to found Highcrest, and the other two packs fighting over the lower grounds.  Claudin knew that in order to reclaim the strength and glory we had lost, he must not allow pride or the greed for power seduce him into betraying the moon.”

A low murmur swept through the crowd. You knew your former packmates had the same thoughts running through their mind as you did—could this really be true? Was Alpha Tyvrin’s downfall predestined to happen in order to reunite the original pack? Elder Aline coughs, and you focus back on her.

“And so, this tale of Alpha Lycaon and our pack serves as a tale of caution for generations, a reminder of the dangers of hubris and the importance of respecting the ancient laws that govern our kind. Alpha Claudin rectified the treachery his father had done unto the moon, but we shall never shift again as punishment.”

A quiet settles upon the crowd, and the elder gestures to a group of children you didn’t notice before. They step towards each of you, and she asks you all to kneel. The small child before you has a face like a cherub, full cheeks pulled tight as he shows his teeth to you, eyes disappearing in his delight. 

He bequeaths a length of dark fabric, and his hands move so as to wrap the ends around your face, deftly knotting it behind your head. When you feel him step away, you stand back to full height. Your other senses are heightened, anxiety blossoming at what comes next. You hear footsteps, and sounds of awe and admiration sweep across the crowd stealing your nerves. You freeze in anticipation. 

“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.”

Seconds tick by as you wait, eyes furiously trying to see through the thick material stealing your sight. Seconds turn into minutes and you can hear the faint rustling of bare feet traveling across the grass, the weighted foot falls accompanied by heavy inhales of the still air surrounding the area. You know the Alpha has entered the clearing—can feel a palpable shift in the energy as your body grows hotter by the second. His scent sings to you, and you whine lowly, wanting to follow it.

Again, the crowd responds to something unseen by you, this time it has your inner wolf crouching, tail down and ears back—showing submission. Another whine escapes you, a little louder this time. Your distress must be filling the area around you, you can sense the crowd’s movement, reacting to your scent. You begin to panic, fearing that a distressed scent would push the Alpha to choose another, not the scared, submissive and pathetically whining bitch in heat—

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 

Namjoon walks up to the clearing surrounded by his closest advisors, some of whom had been absent patrolling the borders and securing their land the past several weeks, and returned in time for the ceremony. As he approaches, the sounds in the forest quickly fade, as if sensing his arrival.

He waits for his signal to enter the clearing, far enough away that he can only smell the crowd of his pack members standing between him and the clearing where the Omegas will stand. Namjoon spent all day in the forest, away from town preparing for the ritual by hunting for game to be used for the meal to feed his mate before the knotting. He also had to follow the same cleansing tradition, bathing under the light of the full moon, drinking the purified new moon tea, and dressing in loose, white linen pants.

He tried his best to clear his mind from the events of the previous evening, and once he was away from the bustle of the town square, he found it easier to convince himself it was just a fluke. After years of being with Everlight, the idea of being fully committed must have made him feel a bit scared, so he latched onto the idea of something new, someone different…you. 

Now, after his mindful afternoon in the forest, he knows he just has to trust the moon will lead him to Everlight, his mate. He knows her scent, knows it like he knows the taste of his mom’s cooking or the sound of his father’s favorite whiskey bottle opening.

As the moon climbs higher, he waits, steadily listening as the crowd quiets and Elder Aline speaks, recounting the tale of the original tribe. As she gets close to finishing her tale, Namjoon is tapped on the shoulder by Beta Taehyung, who motions to the blindfold in his hand. 

“It’s time, Alpha.”

Namjoon nods, taking the blindfold from the younger male and covering his dragon-shaped orbs. He fastens the knot, and he senses when another one of his trusted Betas approaches him. 

“I have the pouch here. Make sure to smell it deeply before—” 

Beta Jungkook is interrupted by Namjoon. “I know, I know. Smell it deeply before I let my inner wolf out to track my mate.” He lifts an open palm so Jungkook can place the small, organza fabric reticule into his hand.

When he hears his name, he knows that’s his signal. He follows the sound of the elder’s voice to enter the clearing.

“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.” 

Raising the small sack to clear his olfactory senses, he inhales a piece of his own clothing, a small handkerchief he kept on him all week. A trick using olfactory habituation to cleanse his palate from the surrounding smells, allowing him to only smell his mate. The crowd shifts, he can hear stilted murmurs about his physique being on display since he was shirtless as he walks past his pack. 

Stepping fully into the clearing, he inhales deeply, and instantly he picks up the laundry scent that he’s so used to being surrounded by. It’s definitely Everlight’s scent—he’s almost positive—but it has an edge to it, a slight tinge that he’s not used to smelling. The longer he stands there, the more the scent morphs into a cloying, headache inducing smell. It’s almost fake, a manufactured scent that doesn’t entice him. 

He steps away from the smell of it, noting an undercurrent of something nice. The crowd reacts, confused at his actions, but he doesn’t care. He knows he has to trust the moon. And that bourbon-honey scent? He wants more of that. Lifting the pouch again to his nose to rid it of the sickly sweet smell, he drops his hand after a few inhalations, allowing the soft honey smell to seep into his pores. It’s alluring, growing more seductive by the moment, but then it takes on the additional bitter scent of anxiety, and Namjoon worries that something is wrong. 

He can feel his inner wolf scratching to get closer, to protect, to save his mate—when he steps closer, the crowd reacts again, so he grabs at his blindfold, tearing it free so that he can get to you. He needs to calm you down, you need to feel safe, to know that your Alpha is here to protect you. He’s closer to you than expected, and the whine you let out calls to him in more ways than one. 

His body feels alight with flames, he can see you’re trembling. His hand moves without him thinking, gripping the blindfold and tugging it up and off your head. 

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 

The light of the moon feels blinding as you blink to adjust your eyes to the sudden return of your sight before it’s eclipsed by the broad body of the Alpha. His breaths are almost frantic, a heavy panting that moves his shoulders with each exhalation as his wild eyes roam your face. His neck gland is hidden by a tied piece of cloth, masking his scent partially and you want to bury your face into him, seeking safety and comfort. 

Your body responds to his proximity almost immediately, a simultaneous calming of the mind’s anxiety as physically you feel engulfed in a blaze, a sweat finally breaking out along your hairline as you’re thrown into full heat. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he inhales you, his face looking triumphant as he kneels on one knee before you. He reaches for your hands, which tremble as he locks eyes with you. 

“Namjoon, what the hell?!” Everlight stands several omegas down from you, her face free of the blindfold, which now dangles from her fingertips at her side. She doesn’t move for a moment, not until she realizes the Alpha was not responding to her. Her steps don’t falter as she gets closer to you, but your scent grows sour as you take in the murderous look on her face.

Namjoon’s movements are quick and fluid. He stands and postures himself, keeping you protected behind him as he shoves Everlight back with one hand.

“Mine,” he growls. Everlight drops the blindfold, confusion blossoming upon her face. 

Namjoon turns to you, grasping your cheeks gently in his hands. “Mate.”

He throws his head back, and lets out a loud howl to the moon. 

Chaos ensues. The entire field grows loud as some pack members celebrate the ceremony’s success, while others gossip about the outcome. You can hear snippets of the conversations until another voice grows louder, shouting at the Alpha. It’s Everlight, your brain registers, she’s angry, her sour scent wafting in your direction as she screams. 

Some Betas you’ve never seen before hold her back, preventing her from coming closer to you and Namjoon. You back up, jostling into him, and the urge you had earlier grows so strong you don’t hold back. Jumping into his arms, you bury your nose into his neck, and you instantly melt against him, fatigued. Namjoon is startled but holds you tightly, and you can feel when he begins to walk swiftly away from the crowd.

You don’t question it, you just let your Alpha lead you to someplace safe. It takes a few minutes before you arrive at a small cottage, its windows lit with a soft glow. You recognize it for what it is—a mating cabin. Set far enough away from the town square that a newly mated Alpha and Luna can have alone time to get through the next few days. 

Namjoon sets you down, but doesn’t let you go. Opening the door, the first thing you see is a pack of water on the small wooden table. It’s one large room, like a studio with an open concept. There’s a small kitchen set up to the left, and straight ahead is a large bed. The sheets are clean and welcoming, and you can feel your body beginning to cramp as your heat kicks in. 

You knew it was coming—the low-grade fever, mild cramping, and more recently, increased slick and pheromone production ever since Namjoon touched you in the clearing. You shuffle, uncomfortable as slick leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh slowly.

You can hear Namjoon inhale sharply, before he’s kicking the door shut and grabbing you firmly. He doesn’t speak. His eyes say everything though, the adoration and lust sparkling in the low light in the room. 

“Alpha.” It’s a statement. It’s a request. 

His lips are on yours, devouring, tasting, suckling as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Honey. You taste like sweet bourbon infused honey…it’s intoxicating.” Namjoon kisses you again, this time his lips trail from yours to your neck. He teases you, teeth nipping at the skin as your thighs rub together seeking pleasure as he pulls sinful mewls from your throat. Your hands grip his upper arms, and you try to tug him towards the bed. You need him. You need his knot. 

“Please, Alpha,” you beg, and he shivers in your hold, aroused by your submissiveness. “Need you.”

Namjoon lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You grind against him, biting his bottom lip aggressively. You feel so hot—burning up—and he’s the only thing that can cure you from this growing pain. 

Your heat is in full swing, and you can tell it’s triggering your Alpha’s rut. He’s trying to hold back, be gentle and slow, but when you push your leaking core against him, he gives in. His hands fumble with the waistband of his linen pants before his heavy cock springs free, fully erect and searching for your entrance. You move your waist to help the angle of his cock, as one hand holds your hip and the other holds the base of his shaft to align himself. 

When the slight pressure on your slit gives, you thrust forward, forcing him inside you with ease thanks to your copious amounts of slick. You feel full, the head hitting in just the right spot. Attempting to create friction, you try to undulate your hips, but the resulting shockwaves from the tip meeting that sensitive spot causes you to clench around him. 

He freezes, feeling the quickening of your walls and you yelp in surprise when he throws you on the bed. The loss of him inside you feels unfair, but he steps out of his pants and soon crowds your body with his own as he climbs over your body. A firm hand presses into the middle of your upper back, before he grips your hips and pulls them upwards. The dress slides down, revealing your bare backside to him and you feel more than hear the growl he lets out. 

He leans against your body, ripping your dress up until you are able to slide the garment off your arms and throw it to the floor. A smack jolts you forward, but he adjusts you back into place. You feel his thumb drag over your slick covered folds, taunting you. 

“Alpha!” you whine, and he chuckles before realigning his length to your throbbing core. At this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, and he begins to rock his hips, thrust after thrust inside you. His large hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side. 

“Want to see that pretty face as you cum on my cock, want to hear you cry for me when you take my knot.” His low baritone promises you pleasure beyond your imagination. 

He licks up your spine, kissing and nuzzling into your neck, and you know it's the spot he wants to mark you at. You beg him to do it, but he just shakes his head against your skin. “Not yet, my love.”

He kisses you with every thrust he takes, before sitting up more to pin you down to the bed. His movements grow sharp, hands grabbing at your ass cheeks as he pounds into you. Switching up his movements, you can’t believe he fucks so well when he begins to rotate his hips and slips his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it, drool leaking from your mouth onto the sheets as your legs shake. 

You clench again, involuntarily spasming every few seconds and you know you’re close—you tell him as much. 

“Fuck,” he curses, and you grip the bedsheets as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to your hips and he arches your back even more as he speeds up his own movements. They're fluid, your slick making it almost effortless for him to please you, to take you from behind like this until he’s so deep he could feel himself poking through your stomach—

“Take my knot, want you to have my pups, fuck—”he presses his hips flush to your ass, streams of his cum filling you up endlessly as your body wracks with euphoric release. You whine as you feel the intense pressure of his knot filling you before the pain of his marking bite overtakes your senses. 

You feel overwhelmed in a good way, pain giving way to pleasure as the bite seals your mated status and his knot begins to slowly deflate. Once able, Namjoon rolls you over to face him, nuzzling into you as you hold him close. Your heat was sated for the time being, but you knew that soon you would be climbing him once again to meet your needs. 

You wince as his nose grazes your fresh mark and he makes an apologetic face. Standing up from the bed, he grabs a bottle of water for you, twisting the cap off for you and proffering the drink. 

You take a full swallow, quenching the thirst you didn’t realize you had. Heats have a way of making you forget to take care of yourself in that way. The fatigue consumes you, and you drop back down to the bed. Namjoon takes the bottle from you and places it on the side table. His hands massage your calves, working his way along your thighs. His movements could put you to sleep, but you knew as well as he did that this reprieve would not last long. The moon shone through the window casting a faint glowing halo around Namjoon’s head.

He was yours. 

In the moon's tender glow, we're born anew,

The night's canvas echoes our ancient call,

Omegas and Betas, to their knees they fall,

For the Alpha, bound by destiny's fate.

To lead, to fight, to protect, to mate,

In lunar hours, gaze upon the sky,

Let Luna's wisdom be your guiding light,

Her soothing touch to mend wounds that cry.

When crescent rises, we shall rise as one,

Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun.

"Police!"

Screams rang out in the darkness as bodies scrambled to grab clothes, money, and drugs.

"Stay where the hell you are, arms up!"

The lights in the building turned on, revealing an underground club. People tried to run until they stopped in their tracks as guns were pointed at their heads. Everyone lined up against the wall as the Miranda rights were read. A woman entered the room wearing a black vest with white letters on the front that spelled out 'POLICE.' Her sharp brown eyes stared at the assorted people lined against the wall. She muttered, shaking her head at the woman standing before her. One of the arresting officers approached her, holding a bag of vials.

"Detective Lorne. Everything seems clear here."

She shook her head, sucking in her teeth. "Is the pimp here?"

The cop frowned, looking down the line. "W-Well–"

"Then we ain't finished. He's gotta be here somewhere," she snapped. 

Detective Corinne “Ace” Lorne had a reputation as a “cowboy” law enforcer, but no one could deny that she did her job well. Three years of working her ass off led to her promotion as a Detective, and now she was on the Vice squad, trying to rid the city of wrongdoing. She never blamed the victims, always the assailant, and a lot of times, they walked free with no charges. The victims suffered the most, whether ending up in jail, on drugs, dead, or all of the above.

Corinne kept her hand on her 9mm gun as she walked further down the hall. The stench of mold and cigarettes wafted down the hallway, making her cover her mouth but keep her eyes open for sudden movements. She kicked in the doors, finding empty rooms in vain. Suddenly, someone came barreling out of a room, swinging a metal bat at her. She ducked at the first blow but caught one to the side, making her grunt as she fell to the floor. She kicked his feet out from under him as he came at her again, slamming her elbow into his. The bat fell to the ground as he collapsed, and  Corinne grabbed his arms roughly, bringing them behind his back and handcuffing the goon with ease.

"You gotta lot of balls, Mort. But I finally got your ass."

He squirmed, trying to turn his head to glare at her. "Bitch, I'll kill you!"

Corinne gave him a swift kick to the ribs, making him howl. "Sure you will."

Noise erupted down the hall as a few cops and Corinne's partner, Jung Hoseok, ran towards her. Hoseok glanced from Corinne to the pimp, shaking his head. "Guess you ain't need my help."

She chuckled, re-holstering her gun. "Not at all." She pointed to one of the cops. "Read him his rights and take him outside." She winced as they walked back into the main room. Hoseok held out his arm for her as they stepped outside. The few ambulances were on standby, waiting. She waved to one of the EMTs and pointed to her right side. "Bastard got me with a baseball bat."

Hoseok whistled low as they lifted her shirt, a dark purple bruise forming. "This job is gonna kill you one day, Corinne."

She gave him a hard stare as she chuckled lightly. "I highly doubt it, Hoseok."

Corinne winced as they set to work assessing her injuries. This job may be too much for her after all.

---

After hours of taking apart the underground club, Corinne bypassed the hustle and bustle of the police station. She barely made eye contact with anyone as she threw the stack of files on her clutter-ridden desk, walked up the stairs into the break area, and collapsed on one of the old, worn cots. She rubbed her eyes, taking in a big yawn as her eyes shut for the first time in five days. But there was no sleep for the weary. Barely an hour went by before Hoseok could rouse her awake. "Lorne? Lorne? Get up. We gotta move."

A slew of curses erupted from her lips as her eyes popped open, glaring at her partner. "This better be good," she groaned. Hoseok backed away a few steps, unsure if she'd take a swing at him. Corinne wasn't the most extraordinary person to be around, half awake. She sat up, detangling her braids, and grunted. "Give me five minutes."

Hoseok grinned, walked back into the precinct, and sat at his desk. Corinne emerged moments later and perched down on the edge of his desk. He handed her a cup of coffee, and she sipped it slowly before speaking again. "So why in Heaven's name was I woken up?"

"Because your informant is dead," a gruff voice spoke up. The detectives turned just as their captain entered his office. The robust African-American man grunted as he stomped in and slammed a folder on the desk. "Major crimes just called me. They found your number on the body, Lorne. The medical examiner wants to see you both, stat."

Fuck.

Corinne tried to keep a steely expression, but inside, a million questions ran through her mind. Which informant? Why now? She decided to wait until they had the whole story. Hoseok nodded as he grabbed his jacket, giving her a look. "Let's go, partner." She sighed, gulped down the hot drink, and grabbed the files. "See ya later, Captain."

----

The medical examiner buzzed them in and put on face masks and latex gloves. Corinne crossed her arms as she stared at the covered body on the gurney. "What happened?"

The middle-aged examiner, Gregory, sighed and pulled back the sheet. Hoseok let out a groan and took a step back. Maybe she shouldn’t have finished that coffee beforehand. She held it together only because Gregory would not have been pleased with the results. The corpse of her informant was barely noticeable due to the damage from the elements.

"Time of death will be hard to determine, as you can see from the water damage. The fingertips were burned off, the jaw appeared to be smashed, and the optic nerves were destroyed. Those were all done postmortem, but the cause of death was damage to the carotid artery."

"Who would go through this much trouble?" Corinne thought out loud. Hoseok stood at the far end of the room, shaking his head. "You and I know who'd be good for this." 

She muttered softly to herself, studying the wounds on his body. Sure enough, she found his tattoo, a serpent wrapped around a skull. "This is Milo...fuck–yes, I'm aware of who could be behind it, but I bet we won't be able to get anything."

Hoseok knew she was right. The lack of evidence put them at a dead end each time a new body appeared. Gregory shrugged, handing her an evidence bag with her card. "I have no clue, but they went through a lot of trouble sending you this message."

She glanced at Gregory, too exhausted to comprehend anything he said. "Just send the paperwork, and we'll start on this soon enough. If you manage to find anything, page me, and I'll be at the station."

The M.E. nodded and set out his tools to start the autopsy. Corinne and Hoseok took their leave. As Hoseok got into the driver's seat, she slid into the passenger's side with a grim expression. 

“You sure it’s not the Russians?”

Corinne rubbed her eyes with a groan. “As much as I want to believe that, I know that's not true. There might be something else to this.”

“Spill.”

Corinne sighed, looking up at Hoseok. “I think they were supposed to appear to have done this. To knock us off their trail.”

Hoseok let out a snort, resting his head against the car seat. “You’re right, that’s fucking wild.”

They rode in silence, lost in their own thoughts. This case was becoming increasingly complicated with each new revelation. A lot of hours were going to be dedicated to this case.

That is, if the higher-ups approved it. Knowing them, they’d push it to the back burner. A lowly informant barely made the papers.

Corinne sighed to herself, shaking her head.

“Corinne?”

She blinked, turning to her partner. “Sorry. What was that?”

Hoseok smirked, jerking his head to the left. “We’re at your place.”

“Oh.”

He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “You going in tomorrow?”

She shook her head. “I got the day off. Need to finish some things.”

“Good cause after that injury, you need to take it easy.”

She rolled her eyes with a scoff. “When have I ever taken it easy, Jung?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Good point.” He reached over and patted her hand. “Take care of yourself, partner.”

“Or what?”

His eyes darkened as he met her gaze. “You know what.”

She bit her bottom lip, staring at him hungrily. “Why don’t you show me?”

---

He surveyed the construction site, and the crane moved to place beams along the structure. His hands clasped perfectly behind his back, eyes focused, and poker face unmatched. Sighing, he turned from the windows and sat at his desk. The scatter of papers made his frown set in. Things were going differently than planned overseas. A knock at the door brought his eyes up.

“Enter.”

The door opened slowly as a man, holding a briefcase and files, entered. He waved him to come inside.

“Any news, Yoongi?”

“None, Hyungnim.”

Seokjin’s lip thinned in annoyance. “So, there is an issue with this project?”

“It seems some of the funds have gone missing.”

Jin looked up, glaring at him. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Yoongi shook his head. “We’re already ahead of it. Your meeting is being moved up before we head to the site.”

“How long do we have, Yoongi?”

“Less than half an hour, Hyungnim.”

His lips thinned as he glanced at his watch. “I guess you'd better hurry this up, then.”

“Well, the helicopter is on the way–”

“Fine. We’ll take care of this on the helipad then.”

He walked off before Yoongi could speak; instead, he sighed and followed his boss to the elevator. The man waited until Yoongi hit one of the buttons. Yoongi glanced down at his phone. They had little time, and he'd be punished if they deviated from his schedule.

They reached the top floor in silence. He walked out with Yoongi in tow, only stepping before him to open the door. A flash of light made his eyelids blink, adjusting to the sun. They were on the rooftop of a high-rise building, a helicopter off to the side, propellers turning. The wind whipped his tie as he approached three other men, two standing and the one in the middle on his knees with a cloth bag over his head. He gestured to them when he stood before the man on the ground.

They snatched the bag off his head, and the man’s eyes blinked erratically as the light blinded him momentarily. Once he glanced at the man standing before him, his face paled.

“J-Jin…”

“That's Kim Seokjin to you, maggot,” Yoongi snapped, stepping forward to strike him across the face.

Jin shook his head, placing his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Now, where are your manners? This isn’t how we take care of business.”

“Forgive me, Hyungnim,” Yoongi murmured, stepping back.

Placing his hands behind his back, he looked at the other two. “Namjoon, Jungkook, has he been forthcoming with any information?”

“None, Hyungnim,” Namjoon replied.

Jin tutted softly as the tiniest of smirks appeared across his face.

“I’m only going to ask this once. Where’s my money?”

“What money?”

Jin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m fairly certain; I said I would only ask this once. However, I consider myself merciful, so I’ll ask this again. Where is my money?”

The man spat down at his feet, growling with hatred. “You’ll die for this, Kim.”

Jin smirked once more as he began to roll up his sleeves. “My usual methods aren’t working, so now we’ll just have to do things the old-fashioned way.”

Yoongi handed him a small box and opened the lid. Jin gave him his cell phone before taking out the two brass knuckles that glittered in the sunlight. Slipping them on, he flexed his fingers. 

“Lovely, aren’t they? Never gets old. It seems once these are used, people’s minds change.”

Bones crunching filled the air as the man’s head jerked to the side. Blood sprayed onto the concrete as Jin stepped back in disgust.

“If you got blood on my suit, I’ll kill you,” he hissed.

The man trembled, his gaze fixed on Jin. “I-If I knew where your money was, I’d tell you.”

Jin reeled his foot back, slamming it into the man’s gut. He cried out in pain, crumbling to the ground in a ball. He brushed his hair back, rolling his shoulders.

“I’m tired of this game, maggot,” he snapped his fingers as Jungkook and Namjoon lifted the man to his feet. The man sniffled as the blood still dripped from his nose.

“P-Please–”

“Well, when you put it that way. Sure, I’ll show you some leniency.” 

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” 

Jin rolled his eyes, giving them a nod. Jungkook and Namjoon lifted the man over the side. He struggled, screaming as they let go. His cries grew faint until the body slammed onto the street below. Jin removed his brass knuckles and placed them back in the box Yoongi had held out for him. He adjusted his suit, nodding to his men as they ushered him to the helicopter.

“Make sure to clean that mess up, Namjoon,” he instructed.

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

Suddenly, the phone in Yoongi’s hand began to ring. He looked at the contact and handed the phone back to Jin. “Hyungnim.”

Jin waved him away. “Not now, Yoongi.”

“You might want to take this.”

Jin’s eyes darted to the screen as he snatched it away. Smiling, he answered it brightly. “Eomma! Yes, I know I was supposed to call last night… I’m sorry, business got hectic. Will I be home to visit? Of course! When? Sometime soon, I promise. Give Seokjoong and his family my love. Talk to you soon.”

Sighing, he lay back against the seat, closing his eyes. “Yoongi?”

“Yes, Hyungnim?”

“I think it’s time I visit home. Fifteen years is long enough to be away.”

---

The food cartons lay untouched as the loud action movie on the television played in the background. The occupants paid it no mind. She threw her head back into the pillows as soft lips dragged along her inner thigh. The grip on his dark hair tightened, making him grunt. He kissed a trail back up to her lips feverishly, fingers getting tangled in her hair. She smirked, changing their positions so she was on top.

His eyes glinted with mischief as he grabbed handfuls of her ass before following with a generous smack. She jumped with a squeal before giving his nipple a quick pinch.

”Fuck!”

”Want more?”

His head bobbed as he gripped her hips. “You always tease me.”

”You love it,” she taunted playfully.

She raised her lower half, letting her lower lips brush against his swollen head. He hissed, eyes squeezing shut. Impatience covered his features as he slipped between her folds, groaning in satisfaction. She shuddered at their connection, beginning to bounce up and down on top of him. 

Feral sounds filled the air as the individuals sought their own release. The man grunted in frustration, flipping them over as he lifted her leg, impaling her at a different angle. She cried out as her nails dug into his back, deep red marks forming.

The coils in her abdomen tightened just before she saw white as the electric current ran through her body. He groaned as his release followed after hers, collapsing to his side, being mindful of not falling onto her.

Breathing hard, they lay like that for a few minutes before she sat up, looking for her shirt as he rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Damn, that was good.”

”Yep.”

He turned to look at her curiously. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She looked at him with confusion. “No, I would have told you.”

”I know, but after that hit to your ribs–“

She smirked as she slipped her panties on. “It’s going to take more than a bat to my side to get me down.” 

“No lies told, Lorne.”

She wrapped her braids in a messy bun and stood up. “I’m gonna go freshen up. You need anything?”

He sucked his teeth. “I think I can manage my way around your place.”

”True.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his before ruffling his hair. “Thanks for the stress relief.”

Hoseok smirked, returning her kiss. “Anytime, partner."

---

Yoongi looked across the aisle at his boss, deciding it was best to wait and speak later. When Jin was in that sort of mood, it was best to keep a distance. Instead, he scrolled through his phone as his mind wandered to simpler times.

“Yoongi!”

The young man looked up from his books to see an older man standing with another boy his age. He stood up, bowing in respect to the older man.

“Hell,o Hyungnim.”

The man adjusted his glasses before placing his hand on the shoulder of the boy standing next to him. 

“This is Seokjin. He just arrived from America. I want you to guide him, Yoongi.”

Yoongi nodded.

“Nice to meet you.”

Seokjin nodded in return, the expression on his face unreadable.

 The man placed his hands behind his back as his expression turned stern. “I’m looking to you to step up, Seokjin. Listen to Yoongi and learn.”

“Yes, father.”

That took Yoongi aback. This was his son?! Now it made sense why Hyungnim left for the trip. But to America? Why was his son there all this time?

“I’ll leave you two to chat. I’ll see you home later, Seokjin,” Hyungnim Kim stated.

“Yes, Abeoji.”

Seokjin took a seat with his bag as Yoongi joined him. 

“How are you liking Seoul so far, Seokjin?”

He sighed, picking at his thumbnail. “You can call me Jin.”

Yoongi frowned in confusion. “But aren’t you older than me?”

Jin shrugged, meeting his gaze. “Only by a few months. I’m not that uptight like my dad.”

Yoongi hid the smirk fighting to surface. “He’s not so bad.”

Jin rolled his head, dropping his head into his hands. “Sure, but you have a relationship with him. He dragged me away from my Eomma just to prove a point. I miss home.”

He could hear the pain in his voice. A pain he knew all too well.

Not that kind, goodness no. He’s been doing practice poses for his shoot as soon as he arrived like he always does in each photoshoot. You ignored his flushed look when he entered the studio, already knowing his morning routine and went straight for the pre-shoot meeting. Everything was smooth until you noticed some stain on his black pants when you were checking him for any final touches.

So here you are now, dabbing the wet wipes around the spot on his thigh while he’s leaning against the frame of the glass partition behind him. 

He’s lucky that most of the staff are not here yet so you have time to remove the stain from his pants, a cum stain that almost made you scream when he told you sheepishly that it was from some girl he fucked this morning before coming to the studio.

“are you still mad? i told you i didn't realize she’d be a creamer”

In any other situation, this would've been a strange exchange with someone you essentially work for. Jimin has no filter in the way he talks to you but you don’t really mind it as you do the same. You and he have grown closer to one another each day since you started working for him so these types of conversations became normal between you both.

It's one of the perks of Jimin hiring someone around his age for a personal assistant. You've been with him from the very start of his career, barely scraping anything during that time with the both of you fresh from graduation. When he initially asked you, you looked at him incredulously because his plan was quite risky. Jimin understood your hesitance but he was surprised when you finally agreed after a bit of consideration.

Your friends said that it must be the puppy eyes that he constantly gives you but no, you knew of Jimin during college. It’s common knowledge from your mutual acquaintances of how hardworking he is and you’ve witnessed it a few times before so you said yes because why not. You're both in the same boat anyways, still looking for other jobs and who knows, if this works then it will be great for your future careers. 

You remember when Jimin got his very first paycheck, running up to you with a tight hug and asking you something that you’ve been wanting for a while. You were confused but then he cracked a smile and revealed that he wanted to treat you as a gratitude for doing your best to find casting calls and gigs for him. You were happy of course, with both of your hard work finally coming to fruition.

This dynamic you have with Jimin as a very close friend and colleague has been pretty balanced as the years go by. There are times when you fought, unavoidable with your contrasting personalities but you both became comfortable with one another regardless. This makes your teamwork efficient with more understanding from both sides as your relationship gets closer.

“believe me, it’s hers, not mine i swear” he adds, repeating what he explained earlier when you don’t answer him.

Thoughts aside, you do, of course, believe him because Jimin’s one of the most responsible guys you’ve ever known. He always comes prepared for photoshoots and arrives early to do last-minute check-ups despite what his shenanigans are the night before like earlier today. He’ll never go bare with anyone to avoid risks because he already experienced some scares before from past hookups.

No answer from you still but it’s partly because you've been in shambles on the inside with what you feel for him these days. You’re not only annoyed by this whole thing but you also felt uneasy at what he said. You’ve been used to it but you somehow felt the sting when he explicitly laid out his latest hookup. 

You’ll never admit to yourself or him why because it would be unprofessional.

At the same time, you’ve also been fighting to focus only on finishing up what you’re doing, occasionally straying your eyes toward the glass windows to calm yourself down. He was practically naked in front of you, with his damn gold necklace where its round pendant dances around his belly button and pointing down to the huge bulge he was sporting. And it would’ve helped if he’s covered, at least while you’re still on the floor. But apparently, he felt the need to not zip it up and just wear it as it is, torturing you with his sculpted body. 

You shouldn’t mind it but you’re a bit suspicious because Jimin’s always been involved in his photoshoots. He always consults with you regarding his outfits even if it’s not part of your job. He often asks for your input as well, discussing his ideas with you before he gives them a go. For this shoot, he picked this specific hooded jacket among all the ones that you’ve shown him, insisting on wearing it without anything under it because this one is apparently very loose. 

Which became an immense distraction to you. 

You remember zoning out earlier in the meeting room when Jimin was picking the final photos from his pre-shoot, trying all the concepts that he’s been wanting to do. You were already a mess with his slicked-back hair and exposed body along with his tight pants. And now you couldn't stop staring at his veiny hands as they hovered around the pictures. The gold rings on both of his index fingers didn’t help either, turning your focus on them instead of listening to him explaining to you and his stylist. 

Jimin of course notices and teases you like always. Though he’s been doing it more frequently these days, adding more to the brewing tension between you. 

He ran his fingers through the pinned pictures on the pegboard and casually picked up the pictures near where you were standing by the edge of the table. He leans closer and closer so you have to fight the urge to look at him, instead focusing your attention on talking with this stylist.

“you alright, __?”

You just scoff and roll your eyes at him, brushing him off with an excuse of being sleep deprived. He’s doing this on purpose, he could’ve lied to you earlier about fucking someone because how is he still hard? Thankfully he zipped up for now so his oversized jacket covers it but you knew he had a hunch about why you’d been acting weird around him right now.

Jimin's been smiling, knowing that his current hairstyle has been your favourite. He noticed it when he had his rainbow blond one last time where you couldn't stop touching his hair, hands constantly on it whether hair spraying it or simply tugging its strands whenever you can, reasoning that it's looking messy though it's not.

You couldn't stop looking at him too, eyes staying on him more than you ever did since working for him. That's why he specifically talked to the stylist and the photographer about bringing this hairstyle back for this photoshoot since it’ll also fit with his whole look. Also, you’ve been sneaking glances at him today which has been lifting up his mood. It just adds to how hard his dick is already, affecting you this much makes him very excited for today.

“Jimin, you can't do the shoot with this” you will yourself to ask, relieved that your voice came out sterned. When you look up at him, Jimin swears that his cock just twitched at the view of you in this position, his thoughts playing a different scenario where you’re giving him the suck of his life.

“then help me..” he mindlessly responded, totally not paying attention to what you’re referring to. He's not sure really, his mind’s still hazy and all he can think of is the ache of his balls from not being able to cum earlier.

“i’m trying” you grumble, ignoring his pouting. He’s adorable when he’s like this, and he uses that on you when he wants something. Sometimes it works when he combines it with his affectionate touches but you have to be strong this time. You’re not even sure what he’s specifically talking about but then you’ve also been occupied in trying to fight off your growing lust for him. 

Jimin’s pout turns into a grin after catching your eyes flickering from looking anywhere and on his bulge again, he can sense how your hand’s so tempted to touch it with how much you’re gripping his pants. Your hand continues to fidget, eyes unfocused as you continue to wipe off that stain as hard as you can just in case. You don’t look annoyed now either, but you’re wearing a struggling expression that tells him just how conflicted you are at this moment.

You’re beyond torn because that fucking tent of his pants is dissolving your annoyance little by little with sinful thoughts already creeping up your mind the longer you stay down the floor. 

“where are you looking at?”

“the city view looks good from here”

You automatically answer, clearing your throat in the process before gathering up the pack of wet wipes and the damp cloth along with a bowl of cold water from the ground. You avoid looking at Jimin’s face because you knew he was going to try something now that he noticed your slight slip of judgment.

“yeah, the view is amazing but my view from here is better”

“up or down?” 

“both, but i’d say down. you’d say the opposite, right __?”

You almost dropped what you're holding at his remark but this is nothing new to you: Jimin shamelessly throwing his lewd innuendos at you at any chance he got. You indulge him in it, after all, it’s just harmless flirting between friends, something that you never expected when you took this job. Sometimes it's part of your banter, you doing the same thing to him which catches him off guard sometimes when he's focusing on something while working. You especially do it when discussions of his escapades come to light, which you helped in arranging because of his demanding schedules.

Yes, you’re this dedicated to your job even if it sometimes causes an ache in your heart. 

“why? didn’t you fuck someone?” you deflect, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s affecting you.

“yeah but i didn’t get to cum, couldn’t…” he trails off as he closes his eyes and grabs his crotch to hopefully feel a little bit of comfort but it's no use. He wants to tell you why he couldn't, wants to let you know who has been stopping him from getting off with other people but you don't care anyways.

“then get rid of it, you still have time”

You state with urgency, nervously looking around if anyone saw but everyone’s been doing their own thing. Patting his thigh, you stand up from your kneeling position and push aside your want to help him in getting rid of it. He might be good at hiding his expressions but he does look like he’s been struggling for hours since he arrived on set. Jimin didn’t do anything but huff before retreating to the dressing room to take care of his problem.

Now that most of the staff are here, you check in with them for any possible last-minute changes. It took your mind off Jimin a bit but your eyes couldn’t stop glancing at the door of his dressing room. You shake your head, pushing yourself to focus on your current task. It’s still early but you want to make sure Jimin’s ready when the scheduled time for his photoshoot is on. This is an important shoot for him so you just hope that he finishes as soon as possible to not keep everyone waiting. 

After you’ve double-checked everything, you decide to fetch Jimin. Nearing his door though is making you more agitated than you already are. You’re about to knock when you hear his loud, sexy groan. fuck. 

You haven't really heard how Jimin sounds properly because each time you catch him fucking someone, either during his breaks or random times when you need something for him to confirm, his partners’ moans usually overpower his so this is quite new, and you won’t deny that you'd love to hear more of it.

“oh fuck..fuck”

Jimin being this loud causes you to panic at the possibility of anyone in the studio hearing him like this. This might not be new for some of the staff but still, you just don’t want everyone to hear how he sounds like. 

You took a deep breath before wandering your eyes around if anyone was watching but thankfully, everyone was busy.

.

He wonders if you’re listening, purposely moaning louder than he intends to as he fists his cock. You probably don’t care and if you ever catch him, you’ll just ignore his attempts and scold him for taking too long at this. It’s always been the case with you but he does find it amusing to piss you off more.

So when he hears the door opening, a smirk creeps up on his face before opening his half-lidded eyes.

“y–”

“shut up” you seethe as you approach his propping form on his vanity. He thinks it's just one of his imaginations again, indulging him with his fantasies. But when he feels you grab the chain of his wrap necklace towards you, his eyes open fully before releasing a small gasp. The smaller chain loop fastens gradually around his neck when you begin pulling its long chain gently while looking into his eyes. He maintains eye contact and you notice the hunger and mischief in them as you continue to pull his necklace.

“s-shit” he whines quietly, though the smirk still remains on his gorgeous face as his hand continues to stroke his cock even faster. His other hand reaches for the dark bottle of lube, bringing it in front of you before pumping its nozzle on his very angry tip.

He closes his eyes again, placing the bottle back on the table while his other hand spreads the lube around his dick. You’re speechless for a second with this whole show he’s putting on, pausing to watch him. It’s when his other hand comes up in an attempt to touch you to come closer that breaks your reverie, swatting his hand away.

You stare him down, brows scrunching while contemplating what to do next. This would be crossing whatever boundaries you have with Jimin both in your personal and professional relationship. You had to look away from him to think this through. You’re used to seeing him semi-naked with other people before but not like this. Him now naked from the waist down in front of you, his tight black pants pooling around his ankles.

It’s Jimin’s desperate whimpers that made your mind up. There’s no point in denying wanting the same thing he desires from you.

“i’ll help you but don't make a sound” you command and he nods, too fucked out to respond because all he wants is his release.

Your hand replaces his before you kneel on the hard floor, immediately swallowing his cock to not waste more time. One of Jimin’s hands is on your head at once, not gripping your hair but just holding onto you for support because fuck, your mouth feels so much better than his hands, hell it's even better than pussies he’s had before.

It’s you, of course, Jimin has always thought about how much better you’ll be at pleasuring him than others. He smiles after noticing your demeanour change as soon as your mouth envelops him. It must be the lube flavour that he specifically picked knowing apple’s one of your favourites. Your mouth is greedily sucking him in now, warm tongue lapping up the entirety of his cock.

"you were drooling for my cock earlier, hmm? bet you wouldn't mind sucking me off in front of everyone outside" his mocking tone shudders, his attempt of gaining control wavering with you being encouraged by what he said. You bob your head faster, opening your mouth more to take him deeper cause the view from where you are is spurring you to do more. Jimin in his fucked out glory is a sight to watch, his gold link earrings swaying as he tosses his head back, his plump lips getting swollen from him biting them to hold his moans in.

You want to see more of it. 

When Jimin’s not closing his eyes from the pleasure, they never leave yours as he stares right into them. He surprises you when he gets up from leaning on the vanity, his hand moving from the top of your head down to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him. This made him push deeper into your mouth so you loosen your jaw, the new angle allowing more of his length in your mouth. As soon as his tip reaches the back of your throat, you’re unable to stop releasing gurgling moans when it nudges further.

“can’t..believe..you’re.. choking on my cock right now..”

Jimin rasps needily as he rolls his hips slowly, deeper with each thrust. The vibrations from your moans are not helping him in holding his orgasm longer. He’s been trying hard because he wants to prolong this, relish this view of you on your knees and your mouth on him because who knows if this will ever happen again. He’s losing himself, grinding on your face while his hand starts massaging your nape in time with his thrusts.

Now you’re confused because you for sure thought that he’ll start fucking your throat roughly the moment you allowed him but he’s not. You take a deep breath through your nose as you come up, readying your throat in case he’ll change his mind later when he’s close to cumming. But the way he’s touching your nape is making you relax, distracting you from your main reason for helping him in the first place.

He’s close already, his cock's been throbbing before you started bobbing your head earlier. His pace also changes a bit faster but is still slow and you’re confused as to why he’s been holding back. His breathing turns erratic and his lower abs are flexing. You know it so before he does so dig your nails into both of his meaty thighs before one of your hands leaves and pushes away his hold on your head. 

You take him deeper until your lips reach the skin of his crotch, immediately pushing back when he grabs your head again, releasing his cock from your mouth which causes Jimin to whimper in frustration.

“that's for making me wipe other girl's cum on your pants” you glare at him, voice hoarse from taking him that deep in your throat. Standing up from kneeling was making your legs wonky, feeling numb from your previous position but your mind’s not on it with your prior annoyance resurfacing because of his attempt to pacify you.

Jimin, however, begins laughing.

Your brows rise from his reaction, totally not expecting this because you were really sure that you already got him under you.

“so you’re jealous after all,”

“i’m not, i wouldn’t help you if i were” you counter, avoiding his eyes as you pull his jacket back on him, it was slipping on one side already, showing his muscular arms and the tattoo on his ribs. Your fingers have minds of their own when you start tracing each of the letters, causing Jimin to shiver at your touches but the devilish smile remains on his handsome face.

“but you’re doing it to prove something, right?”

You don’t know how to answer him and you don’t want to tell him the truth because it’ll just feed his already massive ego. Instead, you grab his swollen dick, hot and heavy in your hands and begin stroking him roughly. The slick from the lube, his precum and your saliva made it easier for your plan. There’s no way you’ll let him, he’ll never be able to make you admit it.

The smile disappears from his lips as his whole body shakes with a cry, not expecting your punishing pace on him. You want to look at him, to watch his smug face morph back into a pliant one.

But you can’t.

Jimin couldn't cum earlier while fucking another girl because all he can think about is you and now you’re doing what exactly he’s been imagining for months, years. You’re still not looking at him, your brows scrunching in focus on jerking him off. He can’t stop himself from bucking into your hands when your thumb starts flicking his mushroom tip, nudging his frenulum with your index finger before squeezing his shaft each time you do it.

You’re honestly amazed at how Jimin manages to hold off his climax this long but it shouldn’t surprise you when he has such incredible control of his body. It’s when your other hand reaches out to pull his necklace again to pull him towards you, that he finally gives in. It never crossed your mind that modifying this necklace by combining it with his gold link could serve as an advantage for you when playing with him.

Jimin’s hand leaves the table to muffle his mouth, eyes somewhat begging you to let him cum. You smile and he lets himself go through a series of incoherent cries, still covering his mouth like you ordered him to. And despite knowing how loud he can be, you quickly move to remove his hands to finally hear the delicious moans that he’s been obediently keeping. 

He continues to rock his hips despite the overstimulation, trying to catch your eyes and when you do look up, he’s back to purposely biting his lips as he gapes at you with his dark brown eyes.

He’s grinning while still biting his lips as he shoots more of his cum into your hands, it’s spilling all over but most of it landed on your black sheer top, especially on the sleeves.

“Jimin what the fuck! you came so much..” your enamoured eyes are focusing on his slit that’s still releasing loads of his sticky cum around your fingers.

“yeah, been holding them back” for you, he wants to add but he just chuckles, breathlessly and all giddy while eyeing you. It could be high from his mind-blowing orgasm but it’s more with how he basically just covered you with his cum.

You look cute when you’re annoyed, grumbling because of the stains on your sheer puffy top. Some of them are on your black leather pants too, and this just adds to his amusement as he watches you walking around frantically, looking for something to clean you both up with before his photoshoot finally commences in about a minute or so.

Jimin’s not sorry of course, seeing his cum stains on you is stirring something carnal in him. It's his way of marking you because you're his now, well, kind of. He'll just make sure to properly mark you next time.

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere. 

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house. 

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married. 

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great. 

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here. 

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met. 

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky. 

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace. 

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground. 

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks. 

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go. 

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time  [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him  [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back.  [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.”  You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement. 

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him. 

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him.  His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening. 

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

The couch wasn’t big enough for the three of you. Jungkook was on the very edge of the couch while you and your rounded belly took up the rest. Your dog, a sweet little corgi named Blackjack, was sitting on the floor by your feet with a frown, glaring at your husband. Blackjack had been sitting on your lap, a hard feat now that your belly had grown so big the past few months but then Jungkook had laid himself down on the very edge and unfortunately for Blackjack, the couch wasn’t wide enough for four and he’d been the one to hop off, needing more room to stretch out. That didn't mean he wouldn't hold a grudge against your husband, in fact, your pup was already plotting his revenge as he stared at the back of Jungkook’s head. 

“Babe,” you sigh as your fingers run through Jungkook’s long hair. It had grown as much as your belly the past three months and you loved it. Jungkook said he wanted to look good when the baby arrived and you laughed and told him he looks wonderful. Though you’re sure it also had to do with the way you pulled his hair when you were intimate and he wanted to give you something to hold on to. Jungkook would never admit it though. 

“There’s not enough room for the three of us on the couch,” you tell him as you rub your belly lightly. Jungkook pouts as he looks up at you from his spot on your belly, his tattooed arm draped over your hip. 

“But I’m comfy,” he pouts. 

“Baby, you’re hanging off the edge,” you point out. “If I take a deep breath, you’ll fall.”

Jungkook huffs, snuggling his face into your belly once again. “I just want to feel Mini-Me kick for me.”

“He has been,” you remind him. “He liked Baby Shark when you sang to him earlier.”

Jungkook groans. “I want him to like more than Baby Shark.”

You laugh, fingers scratching at his scalp. Jungkook moans softly and your heart flutters. 

All afternoon, Jungkook had been singing karaoke, trying to see which songs would get a kick from his son. 

“He liked Vibe,” You giggle and Jungkook pouts, his doe eyes glittering in the lowlight of the living room. 

“I don’t want him reacting to my brother’s voice,” Jungkook shakes his head as he rubs your belly. “Uncle Jimin is not your favorite. I am. I'm your daddy.”

A soft kick gets him to smile brightly. Jungkook chuckles, grinning from ear to ear. He had sung a few songs after that, hoping any of them would get your son kicking, and you’d scolded him when his Mini-Me got too riled up. 

“He’ll be up all night kicking and I won’t sleep.” Jungkook had looked abashed, promising just a few more songs before calling it a day. You had agreed as you got comfortable on the couch, only for Jungkook to sing Unholy and give you a look that sent you over the edge. 

You had dragged him straight to your bedroom, moans filling the apartment soon after. 

Now, you were relaxing after dinner. Music still played in the background and Jungkook hummed along to a few songs, not wanting to rile up his son right before bedtime but if he happened to kick for him, he’d be ecstatic. 

“I love you,” Jungkook murmurs sleepily as he cuddles into you, his head now between your breasts. 

“I love you too, baby. Come on, let’s go to bed. This couch isn’t good for my back and I need my pillows.” Jungkook nods as he lets himself drop to the floor. You roll your eyes at him.

“You could have just gotten up normally,” you shake your head with a laugh. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Didn’t want to hurt you or Mini. Let me help you up.”

You slowly move your legs so your feet touch the floor and Jungkook takes hold of your hands to help lift you off the couch. Tomorrow he would suggest going out to purchase a new one. One that would fit all three of you and perhaps Blackjack as well. 

Jungkook helps you to the bedroom, hovering as you do your nightly routine before he’s helping you get into bed. You groan once your head hits the pillows and you get comfortable. Jungkook is lightning fast with his own routine, stripping to only his boxers before climbing into bed with you. 

He’s quick to drape himself over you, sharing the warmth of his body with you until later, when you're fast asleep and too hot to keep him wrapped around you. For now, he’ll rest his head on your chest and his large hands on your tummy. He couldn’t wait to meet your child, to hold him, and snuggle him and love on him. Just a few more weeks and he’d be able to hold him in his hands. 

Jungkook kisses your jaw and you hum, nearly asleep. He giggles as he feels the tiniest movement from your belly. 

“Goodnight, Mini-Me. I have a new set list for tomorrow,” Jungkook grins. “Don’t tell your mommy.”

“Jungkook, go to sleep!”

“Whoop! Gotta go, Mini-Me!” Jungkook kisses your belly before moving to cuddle you instead as you melt under his touch. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

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