#kokawrites

You struggled to keep your hands steady as you opened your messages, a few texts from your friends already filtering in. Thoughts racing, your eyes scanned over their messages.

Ryujin

is everyone ok??

Lisa

everyone saw that alert right?

send updates on location. im at home

[Name]

in my apt

wtf does aeronautical threat mean

Jin

at work but at least i’m inside. they’re putting the building on lockdown

Ryujin

at my apt too. ik they said stay inside but i’m a 10 min walk from [Name] should i head over?

[Name]

a lot can happen in 10 min, just stay where you are. everyone keep ur devices charged and stay away from windows. love u guys.

Just as you pressed send, a loud boom shook your entire apartment, making you lose your footing. Your hand darted out to grab hold of the kitchen counter to steady yourself. The orange glow from the sky outside seemed to flicker for a few moments before completely disappearing, darkness flooding your apartment and blinding you. More booms echoed outside, but they sounded much further away than the first; you counted at least ten over the span of a few minutes. By now your legs had completely given out, your eyes squeezed shut and your back pressed against your stove, hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life.

For a few moments after the last explosion, all you could hear was the roar of your heartbeat and your erratic breathing. The possibility that this could be your end suddenly started to sink in, and your thoughts were surprisingly bland to be your last. All you could think was please, I don’t want to die. Please, please. You begged to someone you didn’t even know was listening, your thoughts projected out into the universe only to get lumped in with everyone else’s. There was no slideshow of your life like there was in the movies, no strange feeling of calm as you acknowledged your impending doom, because you refused to believe that this was it. You still had so much to do, so many people to meet, so many places to go–no matter how you looked at it, you weren’t ready. And obviously you knew that you couldn’t control that, so you hoped your pleading would reach the person who could.

The shriek that pierced the dark silence at that moment could be described as nothing other than bone-chilling, terror prickling at your skin and gnawing at the pit of your stomach. It sounded close by, but you had no real idea of knowing where it came from. A horrifying feeling crawled up the base of your spine and raised the hairs on the back of your neck, and your mouth went dry. You couldn’t explain it, but you just knew. Whatever was out there was coming for you next.

Ringing filled your ears as you tilted your head to peer out the window above you, terrified of what you would see. You couldn’t see much other than a faint white glow, one that you probably would’ve called ethereal under any other circumstance. You couldn’t find the willpower to avert your gaze, your eyes stuck on the window as the glow spread, spilling into your kitchen, illuminating you and your surroundings like a soft spotlight.

As the light beamed over you, a creature climbed in, strangely angelic with its long, platinum blonde hair, and skin so pale it was almost translucent. But then you saw its eyes, obsidian voids full of nothing except pure, concentrated evil, and you knew this was not an angel. You felt like you were trapped in your own body, unable to move or scream, like you were dreaming. Oh, if only this were just a nightmare.

The figure smiled, its mouth stained crimson with what you could only assume was blood, its teeth reminiscent of stalactites in a musty cave. You didn’t dare movc, breathe, or even blink. You barely even thought, but one word persisted: please.

It let out a terrible screech as it lunged for you, and you closed your eyes, bringing your arms up to shield your face. Pain erupted where its sharp claws grazed your skin, heat rushing to your wounds as blood oozed out of them. You managed to kick it off for a brief moment, and scrambled backwards to put distance between the two of you. It looked unfazed–possibly even amused–and brushed itself off, tilting its head at you. The light around it was almost blinding now, your entire apartment fully lit, and you could barely look at it straight on. But you knew that the second you looked away, it was the end.

“Wh-What are y-y-you?” you whimpered, your mouth quivering. “Why are you d-doing th-this?”

The smile on its face grew and it dropped down to all fours. Its voice was unbearably hoarse as it spoke, like nails on a chalkboard, “We are the solution.”

Your head whipped towards your patio door as it shattered, a body crashing through it and landing in your living room. The man whipped his head up from his crouched position, your chest swelling with relief as your eyes met his. You blinked and he had crossed over to where the monster was, his armored fist connecting with its head and sending it flying backwards and colliding with the wall. The creature didn’t have any time to recover before the man was on him, throwing powerful strikes into its body. You could hear the wall thudding and bones cracking with each hit, and you couldn’t help but cover your ears and look away. You noticed the light in the building flickering and getting dimmer everytime the monster took a blow, and you shut your eyes for a moment, focusing on your breathing to combat the dizziness you felt.

When you opened them again, the room was dark. You blinked a few times to adjust to the lack of light, and slowly uncovered your ears. The sound of labored, rhythmic breathing came from your kitchen, but you didn’t want to look just yet.

“... is it gone?” you whispered.

“Yes,” the man said, his voice softer than you anticipated. “You can look now.”

And as soon as the words left his mouth, your eyes were welling with tears, a sob punching you in the gut and throwing you to the ground. All the fear that built up in your body over the past who knows how long, probably only a few minutes, was finally being released. You struggled to breathe through your wails, your forehead pressed to the ground and your knees huddled to your chest as you grasped at the carpet. You hadn’t heard him walk over to you, but the sudden warmth on your shoulder alerted you of his presence, and your fingers reached out to weakly hold his.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

~*~

You could only bring yourself to turn on the table lamp, warm light dimly illuminating the living room and nothing past it. You knew there were still remnants of the fight in the kitchen that you didn’t want to see, so that was as much of your apartment that you were willing to make visible.

The stranger quietly walked over to you, holding your first aid kit and a blanket. You started blankly at the wall in front of you as he draped the blanket over your lap and sat beside you.

“May I?” he asked, and you only furrowed your brow slightly, gaze unmoving. “Your arm.”

You nodded, and he gently took hold of your wrist, placing your hand in his lap. You barely felt the sting of the alcohol on your wounds, the shock numbing your senses. Before you knew it you were all cleaned and bandaged, silence hanging in the air between you and the heroic stranger.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and you felt how chapped they were. Without you even saying anything, the man got up and went to your kitchen, opening your fridge. You winced at the sudden beam of light, turning away to tuck your face in your shoulder.

He returned and you took the water wordlessly, almost wanting to smile when you realized he had opened the bottle for you. Whoever this guy was, he was a gentleman. If you had met under any other circumstances, you’d probably be planning to take him out to dinner. Among other places.

“Thank you,” you croaked out after taking a few sips. You finally looked over at him and took in his features, and he looked right back at you, unwavering. He was handsome, with round eyes and a piercing on his pretty lips, another one through his right eyebrow. You could see a few on each ear as well. Your heart clenched when you saw a fresh wound on his cheek, and you instinctively brought your hand up to cradle his jaw.

He turned ever so slightly just so your skin wouldn’t touch his, but it wasn’t a harsh movement. Your hand dropped back into your lap. “Of course,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“What is?” you asked. “What the hell is the reason for any of what’s happened today?”

He blinked, glancing in the direction of your kitchen. “I don’t know if I can tell you that.”

“Well then… who are you?”

“... I don’t know if I can tell you that, either.” His eyes returned back to you, his expression apologetic.

Uneasiness grew in your chest, your heartbeat getting too strong to ignore. “What can you tell me?”

His brow furrowed and his lips parted slightly as he thought about his response. “That you are safe, because I’m here. And I’ll stay for as long as you need me.”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, suspicion and guilt bubbling in your gut. “Why did you save me? Do you have to go save other people?”

He shook his head. “I was assigned a mission, and I carried it out. Until I receive my next one, I can do whatever I want.”

“And what you want is… to be here, taking care of me.” You searched his eyes for any sort of answers, knowing you would find none but wanting to find any information at this point.

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards into a soft smile. “Yes.”

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you, the sudden noise making you jump. You reached forward to grab it, seeing Ryujin’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“[Name], are you okay?” her voice was shaking, and you gripped the blanket on your lap.

“I’m fine, are you? Do you need me to come get you?”

“N-No, I… I just wanted to hear your voice. You weren’t responding in the group chat, so…”

You gnawed at your bottom lip, debating whether or not you should tell her what happened. If all of you managed to make it out of this, fingers crossed, you would find some way to tell them after the fact. “I honestly didn’t even notice, I’m sorry. I was so scared I couldn’t really do or think about anything.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice small. You could hear faint barking in the background, so you at least knew she was still at home. “Did you hear the explosions, too?”

“I did. There haven’t been any for a good amount of time, though, so I think the worst is over.”

You felt movement next to you and looked over at the man to see him staring uneasily at the floor in front of him. Something about his expression made you anxious, and he snapped out of it as if he could tell what you were thinking. “Hey, uh, I’ll text you, okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Love you,” you said, your jaw clenching. You hated leaving her hanging when she needed you, but you were going to get the answers you all deserved. “I promise I’ll text.”

His expression was calm when you looked at him again, a stark contrast to the emotion you saw on his face just a few seconds ago. You thought about the best way to approach this, the most logical and successful method to accomplish what you needed to do.

“My name is [Name],” you said. The look on his face didn’t change, but you only hoped he was going to listen to what you had to say. “Do you have a name?”

He blinked at you, his mouth parting slightly before closing again. His eyes darted around the room for a brief second before resting on your face again. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me what it is?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he inhaled, something unreadable in his eyes. “... Jungkook.” His voice was steadier than you thought it would be, given his body language. His jaw tensed and he exhaled through his nose. You let the weight of his confession sink in for a bit of time as you two sat in your dim, oddly serene living room, the only things audible being your breathing and the soft whistle of the wind as it flowed in through your shattered patio door. Something in the air shifted when he made the decision to introduce himself, and the anxiety felt like a dagger was stuck in your throat. But you swallowed it down, and focused on what–who was right in front of you. That would have to be enough for now.

“Jungkook,” you repeated, testing it out on your tongue.

“You have questions.” There was no judgment in his voice as he said this, just a simple acknowledgement of your curiosity. “There’s a lot I won’t be able to answer, not yet.”

“When will you be able to? Are you waiting for something?”

He offered a small nod. “I answer to someone very powerful. I want to give you your answers, believe me. I understand what this situation must feel like from your perspective. But I need you to know that you are safe now.”

How many times has he said those same words now? Your mind suddenly transported you back to the dangerous moment you were just in, the grating voice of the monster scraping in your ears. “That thing from earlier… it said something to me.”

Jungkook’s expression darkened, and you swallowed thickly. “It told me… it said it was the solution. Well, it said ‘we.’ Which means there are more of them, right?” Tears burned at the back of your eyes as you thought about your friends, your neighbors, everyone you’ve ever been in contact with. The scream you heard before the light appeared. “You saved me, but what about everyone else? Are there more of you?”

“Yes.” That was all he was willing to say, and you were too defeated to press.

“Well.” You sniffled, wiping away the lonely tear that dripped down your jaw. You were tired of crying, tired of this day, tired of the danger. You would get your answers later. “Are they all as hot as you are?”

He laughed, and you were grateful for the sound. “They’re pretty hot, yeah.”

“Damn.” You nodded in approval. “I guess I can’t be complaining too much about having almost died, since you came to save me.”

His hand reached out to hold yours, his touch warm and firm over your fingers that you didn’t realize were shaking. “You should probably text your friends, right? C’mon, I’ll clean up out here, and you go get some rest.”

You bit your lip as you nodded, not wanting to think about what “clean up” meant.

~*~

The girl staring back at you in the foggy mirror was tired. Her eyes were rimmed red, wet hair sticking to her cheeks. You hadn’t seen her in a while, and she was not a happy sight.

The scratches on your arm weren’t very deep, but they were an angry color, and inflamed slightly. After you re-dressed them, you had to close your eyes for a moment, having stared at them a bit too long. You clenched your fist, nails digging into the palm of your hand in an attempt to ground yourself. The pink half-moons left in their place stung slightly, not enough to disrupt your raging thoughts, and your eyes snapped open. You slammed the door behind you as you rushed out of there, the humid air from your hot shower too thick for your lungs to breathe in properly.

There were over 100 texts waiting for you when you checked your phone.

Jin

I literally cant see anything in here. the generators arent working. one of my coworkers jumped and we could hear the thud guys im fucking sick

Your hand flew to your face as you read the message, sweat pricking at the nape of your neck as you struggled to breathe through the nausea. You were scared to read more, but you also felt obligated to in order to determine whether or not your friends were safe.

Ryujin

holy shit Jin thats awful im so sorry

also my dog wont stop barking but theres nothing outside, i cant see or hear anything its freaking me out

Lisa

does anyone else see like a blob of white light?

Your heart plummeted to your feet as you read her message. It was sent 4 minutes ago. No one responded to her since. Your body started moving before you knew what you were doing, swinging your bedroom door open and rushing into the living room. Jungkook’s eyebrows knitted together at the sight of you, distressed and panting.

“My friend–I think my friend is being attacked, she said she saw a white light just like the one I saw, please save her, I need you to save her, please–” Your breath stuttered when you realized he wasn’t doing anything, wasn’t reacting in any sort of way. “Jungkook?”

“I can’t… do that.” He shook his head, guilt etched into his features.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you choked out. “You’re here to fight those things, right? Isn’t that your ‘mission’?”

He shook his head, and you gritted your teeth. “It’s not that simple, [Name].”

“Then I’ll do it myself, and you can leave.” You tried to storm past him to grab your keys on the counter, but he grabbed your wrist. You twisted your arm out of his grip, and he quickly latched back on, this time holding your bandaged area and reopening the wound. “Ah!” you winced, pain running up your entire arm.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “But I can’t let you leave.”

You looked at him through glossy eyes, but your tears weren’t from sadness. Your face burned from the anger coursing through your veins. His guilty, dejected expression was really starting to piss you off. Your voice was icy when you spoke again, “You either help my friend, or let me go so I can do it myself.”

“If I help your friend, mine will die. And so will I.” You knew he wasn’t lying. And it didn’t make it better, didn’t make you less angry at him, but you understood. “If you leave, you will die. There’s no outcome if we take action where no one dies.”

But who will guarantee that Lisa doesn’t die? You punched the counter with your free arm, the frustration too much to contain. Over and over again, you slammed your fist against the marble, before eventually collapsing against Jungkook, who held the back of your head as you soaked his shirt with your tears. You weakly hit his chest, even though you knew you couldn’t make it hurt half as much as yours did. Eventually his grip on your arm loosened, and you jerked it away from him, cradling it with your other hand.

As soon as you were able to stop crying, you broke out of his arms and turned away from him, roughly wiping away your tears. The two of you stood there in silence for a beat until he spoke softly, “Can I look at your arm?”

“No,” you said, still not looking at him. “I think you should go.”

You went to your room first, not daring to look back at him. When you closed the door behind you, you sank down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The brightness from your phone screen in your otherwise pitch black room made you squint a bit at first, but your eyes adjusted quickly.

[Name]

don’t go towards the light.

Lisa

i didn’t. it just went away after a bit. glad to hear from u

If you had any tears left, they would be pouring out right now. But you didn’t, so the most you could do was heave a sigh of relief.

Emergency Alert

THREAT ERADICATED. REMAIN INSIDE UNTIL THE ALL CLEAR. DO NOT TALK TO STRANGERS. CALL 9-1-1 IF YOU NEED MEDICAL ASSISTANCE.

Just as you finished reading the alert, you heard the soft click of a door closing come from outside your bedroom. You hadn’t expected him to stay, but you’d be lying if you said a part of you didn’t wish he had.

You met when you were kids in an orphanage. You were put there before you were old enough to retain any memories about your parents, so you didn't know anything about them other than what the orphanage had told you. But it didn't really bother you, your lack of memories.

When you had someone like Yoongi to compare yourself to, you seemed very lucky. He was from a broken, abusive home and had been removed from his family by the state. You knew which past you preferred. You were able to move on from your past. He wasn't. You were able to adapt and become a functioning member of society. He wasn't. You got adopted. He didn’t.

Yoongi got kicked out of every foster home he was put into until he finally ran away when he was 16. He turned to you, and you housed him in your attic for around two years. He was hardly home, and you didn't know where he went when he wasn't, but you did know that, wherever he was, he got into a lot of trouble. He got arrested 3 times for petty theft, and he got into fights so often that you considered switching your major to pre-med since you had so much experience patching him up.

You didn't know why he was such a jackass about everything. If he just let everyone else see the side of him he let you see, you were sure people would learn to love and accept him, but he just shut everyone out. He shut you out half the time, too.

When you turned 18, your adoptive parents helped you rent an apartment, and you let him crash there whenever he wanted. You wished he would just move in with you, but he loved to go off and disappear for days at a time. You tried to get him to just take the entrance exam for your school, but he always refused. He was so smart, would read over all of the same textbooks you would, and was better at some of your homework than you were, but he didn't care. He always just did whatever he wanted—and tonight was no exception.

You were sitting at your desk, trying to decide whether physics was impossible, or you were just dumb. It was probably a mix of both, heavily leaning towards the latter. You were about to call it quits and take a shower when your phone buzzed.

Hana

library. now

You narrowed your eyes. First of all, what was Hana doing at the library? She hated it there. Something about feeling "suffocated surrounded by all those gifted kid burnouts". Second of all, and probably more importantly: why were you needed there?

[Name]

? why tho??

A reply never came, but you had this nagging feeling in the back of your head, so you decided to go over anyway. You slipped on some shoes and grabbed your keys before heading out. While you walked over to the library a few blocks away, you tried to call Yoongi to see if he would be home later or not. You figured you'd get some food on your way back, and wanted to know if you should get him something as well, but he didn't answer.

You sighed as you hung up the phone and pocketed it. As soon as you did so, you could have sworn you heard his voice. Upon further inspection, you realized it was definitely his voice—yelling and cussing, as usual. You were near enough to the library that you figured this was what you had been called out here for. People seemed to think you were his babysitter. At least it gave you some way to keep tabs on him.

Your eyes darted around for the source of the yelling, and finally settled on him in an alley with three other guys. Yoongi had your chemistry lab partner pinned against the wall, and his fist was reared back. The two other guys were on the ground, one holding his stomach and the other clutching what you assumed was a bloody nose.

"Yoongi! What the hell are you doing?" you yelled as you ran over, grabbing his arm so he wouldn't punch anyone else. His knuckles and forehead were bleeding, his lip was split, and a bruise was blossoming on his cheekbone.

"Get out of here," Yoongi hissed, shoving you off. "You need to stay away from this guy."

"Jesus, [Name], call off your attack dog!" your lab partner cried, trying to pry Yoongi's arm off him. He had a black eye, so you knew Yoongi had already hit him a few times.

"Stop it! Let him go!" You got between the two of them, but he again pushed you out of the way.

"You don't understand, [Name], so just go away." His eyes were wild as he shoved your lab partner harder into the wall.

"Look, I'm sorry, man," your lab partner said, his hands shaking as he held them in front of his face. "We didn't mean it! I'm sorry!"

Yoongi scoffed. "You didn't mean it?" You saw him rear a white-knuckled fist back, and you panicked.

You ducked under Yoongi's arm that was pinning your partner to the wall and got between them just as he swung forward, his fist landing on your cheek. You felt your lip split and the inside of your cheek tear against your teeth, your mouth filling with blood as you were sent flying backwards from the force of his punch.

You hit your head against the brick wall, the impact making your head spin. White spots flickered behind your eyelids, and your ears rang loudly. Your cheek burned, and you couldn't keep yourself upright. Yoongi instantly dropped your lab partner, who fell to the ground before scrambling to his feet and running away with his friends.

"Shit, [Name], I—" He put a hand on your cheek.

"I'm done," you snapped, slapping his hand away..

"What—[Name], I'm so sorry." He tried to help you up, but you shoved him back.

"Get away from me." You shakily got to your feet and glared at him through teary eyes.

He grabbed your wrist. "You don't understand, that guy was—"

"I don't want to hear it!" you snapped, ripping your arm out of his grip and narrowing your eyes at him. "God, what's wrong with you? What, did he look at you wrong? Go fuck yourself." You wiped the blood from your lips, shoulder checking him as you walked away. Your feet were still unsteady, but you just wanted to get away from him.

"Wait, hold on a second—"

" Don't follow me."

"Can I explain?" he called after you.

" No! Leave me alone!" You rounded the corner of the alley and ran into the library to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.

You were sick of him doing things like this. He had no concern for anyone but himself. Sometimes, you didn't know if you were his friend or his doormat. He never called, he ran away, showed up whenever he felt like it, and you always had to clean up his messes, whether it was cleaning up a literal mess in the apartment, covering for him, cleaning him up after fights, or bailing him out of whatever other kind of trouble he got into. He never thanked you, nor showed any kind of remorse. He used you again and again, and you just let him. And you were sick of it.

You spat out a mouthful of blood into the sink before rinsing your mouth out. You weren't going to try stop his stupid fights anymore. You were done with him. You went up to the roof of the library, figuring he might try to look for you at home—if he tried looking for you at all. You sat down with you back against the wall, absentmindedly running your tongue over your torn cheek.

Your head was killing you and you just wanted to go to sleep. You closed your eyes, and the next thing you knew, you were out.

~*~

You woke with a start as something extremely cold landed on your cheek. Your eyes shot open, and you tried to sit up, but a hand found your forehead and pushed you back down. You realized you were lying down with your head in someone's lap, and the person began to gently press the cold compress on your cheek.

"Yoongi?" you mumbled, putting your hand over the frozen pack to press it into your face. You couldn't see with it covering your eye, but it felt really good, so you didn't care. Your face still hurt, but you had calmed down.

"You need to know that guy wasn't who you thought he was."

"My lab partner?" you mumbled, trying to get up, but he just pushed your head back down again. He didn't sound like himself, he seemed ashamed, and probably didn't want you to see him.

"I overheard him talking about a study session you had planned for Friday, and those other guys—he was buying something to slip in your drink from them."

"What? Are you serious?" you gasped, furious. You were about to go running to find that dick and beat him up yourself.

Yoongi sighed. "I tried to stop the deal, get them to just walk away, but they wanted a fight, and so I gave them one."

You bit your lip. "I don't want you to get into fights for me."

"What was I supposed to do? He was going to—that he was even thinking of trying to hurt you… I wanted to kill him. I know I should have handled it better, but I was just so angry, and—" He sighed again. "…And I'm a fuck up. Are you okay?"

You were still trying to process the news that someone you thought was your friend was going to try to drug you. "I don't know," you finally answered, mostly referring to your emotional state, but Yoongi must've thought otherwise, because he sighed.

"You shouldn't sleep after a head injury, you know that. How many times have you had to tell me that?" He was rambling, and you knew it. "I wish I could've gotten to you sooner, but it was hard to find you. But I mean, you obviously wanted it that way."

"I guess my judgment's off; I've never really been punched in the face before. Though I have to say, I'm not a fan." You moved your jaw around, feeling it click slightly as you did.

"I'm sorry," he sighed.

You smiled, even though you knew he couldn't see it. "Eh, it's probably good for me. Character building and all that." You shrugged a little, sitting up. He pulled his knees up into his chest and rested his chin on them once you were off his lap, looking down at his shoes to avoid making eye contact with you.

"Don't say that. I hit you." His voice was uncharacteristically small, and you felt a pang in your chest.

"Yeah, well, you hit a lot of people." You took the ice pack and held it over his knuckles, which were bruised and split, obviously having not been taken care of after last night.

"But I hit you . I was trying to keep you from getting hurt, but ended up being the one doing the most damage." He retracted his hand so it wasn't underneath the ice pack. He felt like he deserved the pain, and wanted to feel it so he would remember that feeling he got in his gut when he realized he hit you by mistake.

You sighed. "That's why you shouldn't fight, and instead just talk to me. Kicking his ass wasn't the only solution."

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice weak. "I messed up. I mess everything up." His hand tightened into a fist, and you gently took it into yours.

"I don't want your apologies. I want you to stop this." You tried to get him to look at you, but he refused. "Just come home, start going to school, and talk to me. I hate worrying about you." You brought his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft kiss and rubbing circles into the back of it to try and comfort him.

He just shook his head. "Don't you get it?" He took his hand away and reached for the ice pack to put it back on your cheek. "I leave because I'm bad for you. I distract you, I get in the way of you being happy, and I cause you so much trouble. And you don't deserve any of that, so I disappear because I want you to get your life back." He looked away from you and sighed heavily. "We both know you're better off without me. But I'm too selfish to stay away, so every time your life gets good, I come back, and I make it hell for you again. You're the only person who has ever cared about what happens to me, but I'm constantly letting you down. I never should ha—"

"Shut up." You stopped him from going on any further with that nonsense.

"[Name]—"

"No, Yoongi, shut the fuck up. All I have ever wanted was for you to take care of yourself. Don't use me as an excuse for you making yourself miserable. Your life is absolute shit, I get that, but you can change it. Stop fucking around, stop being a dickhead, and get serious about your future. You say you want so badly to be better, but you refuse to do anything about it. I'm sick of it. You think no one will ever care about you, that you're not good enough, but you are . You really are. You just have to try a little, damn it." You stood and threw the ice pack into his lap. "Now I'm going home. Are you?"

He stared off into space as he reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette, and held it between his teeth. He got out his lighter, but he didn't use it. He just kept spinning it in his hand.

You scoffed at his lack of response. "Yeah, okay. Just let me know that you're safe for the night. And if you end up sleeping in a dumpster, lie to me so I can at least pretend that you're okay."

You walked away at that, leaving him there alone. It honestly kind of felt good to be the one walking away from him for once, but you couldn't help but wonder if you should have handled that better. He was depressed and angry, and had been that way for most of his life. It wasn't fair for you to assume he could just turn it off like a switch and start living a normal life.

He wasn't like you, even if you started out in the same place. Even back then, though, your conditions were different. His real parents had left scars on his life, when you couldn't even remember yours. Everything had always been harder for him, and he usually just made it worse by resisting every good thing that came his way. You really wished you knew how to help him. Maybe him accidentally punching you in the face was the best thing you had ever done for him.

Yoongi sat up on the roof for several minutes in silence, just twirling his lighter between his thumb and middle finger. He sighed. He'd had some pretty bad days before, but this was one of his worst. He'd woken up in the back of his shitty car that he made from shitty scrap parts to a cop writing him a ticket for being illegally parked on the side of the road. Then he'd sold all of his beer to some kids to get enough money to pay off the ticket, just to be told he had more tickets to pay when he got there. Later, he was looking around campus for some kind of job, trying to do the right thing for once, when he got in a fight where he got his face smashed in for the tenth time this month.

Then of course you found him and tried to help, because you always tried to help, and he ended up decking you full force. And worst of all, you said you were through putting up with him. He'd always been terrified of the day you realized you didn't need him, but he was almost relieved at the thought that he wouldn't be around to fuck things up for you anymore.

But for whatever reason, he couldn't let you go. He had to run after you and try to find you so he could properly apologize and make sure you were okay. After a moment of thought, he threw down the unlit cigarette and got up, running a hand through his hair. If he wanted to stop messing up, running away wasn't the answer. Doing better was. He pulled out his phone and told you to leave the door unlocked because he was coming home tonight, then headed over to the administration office.

He had a hell of a time getting anyone to take him seriously when he asked to sign up for the entrance exam because of how beat up he was, but he kept his composure. He told them he had been in a car accident, and they agreed to let him sign up for a test tomorrow. He passed a frat party on his way back to your apartment, and stole a pizza from them without anyone noticing. They had like 20 of those things—no one was going to miss it. He decided that he was trying to be better, not perfect.

Baby steps, right? He shrugged to himself as he made his way down the street with the pizza box.  When he got to your apartment, he smiled a little at the unlocked door. He hoped that was a sign you were coming around to forgiving him, rather than you just being a dumbass and forgetting to lock up.

He went inside, but couldn't find you anywhere. You weren't at your desk or in bed, and his room was still locked like it was when he left.

"[Name]? Where are you? I brought pizza."

"You did?" you called out, sounding more excited than he had ever heard you. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Okay! Hang on, I'll be right out. I'm almost done!"

You were currently in your bathtub, buried beneath a mountain of bubbles. You were scared they were going to spill out onto the floor, but you lowered the water level to make it work.

You didn't actually get his text since you went straight to the tub as soon as you got home, and you left the bathroom door open because of it.

He leaned against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. "Is this what you do while I'm gone?" he asked, looking around at the candles, brightly colored water and bubbles, and loud music blaring from your laptop a few feet away from the tub.

"Shut up," you muttered. "It's soothing."

"I'll bet." His smirked widened when he caught sight your bra and underwear on the floor. You had been wearing leggings earlier that day, so of course you decided to wear a thong on the one day he would be home to see it.

"Can you get out?" You splashed some water at him, though you were careful not to disrupt any of the bubbles that were keeping you covered. "What are you even doing home? Shouldn't you be out barking at people?"

"Can't." He smiled. "I have to study."

That made you sit up a bit. "Study? For what?"

He chuckled at your reaction. "Entrance exam. Tomorrow at 11:00."

"11:00 a.m.?" Your eyes were wide. "Will you be able to make that?"

"That's your first question?" he deadpanned, and you laughed.

"Sorry, I just..." You shook your head, smiling. "I can't believe it. I kind of just don't know how to react."

"Well, for starters, you could sit up a little more," he said, raising his eyebrows at you. You scoffed and sank deeper into the tub, covering your chest with your arms. He snickered and you smiled slightly.

"I'm really proud of you, Yoongi."

He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Why? I haven't done anything yet." He shrugged meekly.

"No, but you will. I believe in you." You sighed contently, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before, and it made his heart stir. You heard him move, and figured he left the room to go study, but then you felt his hand brush your hair away from your forehead as he knelt down behind the tub and kissed your forehead.

"Wh-What are you doing?" you mumbled, opening your eyes and turning over in the tub so you were on your stomach with your back arched up against the side of the tub. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you didn't care. Your focus was currently elsewhere.

"Shut up and let me kiss you," he replied, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes went wide, but you didn't stop him. You knew how you felt about him—hell, you hid him in your attic for almost two years. You knew you loved him. But he was always so closed off, so you had no idea how he felt. You tried to kiss him back, but as soon as you did, you felt a searing pain in your lip.

"Ow!" you winced, pulling back as you realized you just re-split your lip.

"Oh shit." He sighed, wiping away the little bit of blood with his thumb. "I'm sorry. God, why does this always happen?" He deflated, and you put a hand around to the back of his head to pull him down to kiss you again.

"It's okay," you reassured him, pressing your lips to his again, trying not to let anything stop the moment.

"Doesn't that hurt?" he mumbled against your lips, trying to pull back a hair so he was just barely grazing your lips.

"Just stay to the right," you grumbled, sitting up to meet him to close the distance he created.

"Your right or mine?" he asked, and you sighed heavily, pulling away and turning over so you were sitting in the tub normally again as you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Idiot. You ruined the moment."

"No, wait, let me try again." He put his hands on your shoulders to try and turn you back around, but you just sank deeper into the tub.

"Forget it," you grumbled. "You can try again tomorrow after you pass the entrance exam."

He kissed the top of your head again before standing up. "Okay, deal. I'll go reheat the pizza while you finish up here." He stood and walked over to the door before pausing and turning around with a smirk. "You know, I could see your ass the whole time you were flipped over."

Your cheeks went bright red and you looked away from him, trying to keep a level tone as you shot back, "If you want see it again, you better go study."

He laughed, and continued his way out the door. "Yes ma'am."

"Can you shut the door?" you called after him, wondering how you were going to get out of the tub now.

"Not on your life," he shot back, setting up a chair at the end of the hall so he could eat his pizza while looking into the bathroom.

"Oh my god!" you snapped, throwing a shampoo bottle down the hall at him while he laughed again.

"Kidding, I'm kidding!" he said, moving the chair back over to the dining table. "Join me when you're done."

Jimin was too engrossed in his essay to acknowledge his best friend when he opened the door to the study room, only mouthing a curt “Thank you” when he placed the coffee next to him. Three empty cups lay scattered on the table around him, and Taehyung looked at him disapprovingly, picking the cups up to toss them himself.

He heaved a sigh as he plopped into the chair across from Jimin. “How’s it going? How many pages do you have left?”

“I’m doing the conclusion now,” Jimin mumbled. “I’m not even gonna fucking edit it. Like, once I finish it, I’m done with it. I’m laying it to rest. Never gonna look at it again.”

Core classes could suck his dick. Why the hell did he, a freakin’ dance major, have to write a thesis about the moral and ethical implications of modern technology and its effects on the younger generation’s productivity levels, just to be able to graduate?

Taehyung let out a dry laugh. “Revising essays is for underclassmen. I just full-send everything nowadays, C’s get degrees and all that.”

Jimin grimaced. “C’s do not, however, make scholarship donors happy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung said, wincing slightly.

Taehyung knew Jimin’s grades were a touchy subject, especially with how strict his parents were. They had allowed him to pursue dance, but on the condition that he would go somewhere he got a full ride for. The full ride part wasn’t hard, since Jimin was a fucking genius–it was the part where his parents gave him shit for not going to the “better” schools they made him apply to. He ended up at USC, but anytime Jimin’s grades were unsatisfactory to his parents, they brought up how he should’ve just gone to Columbia and studied law instead.

“On that note, though, guess who’s throwing a party tomorrow night?”

“ Tomorrow night?” Jimin asked, glancing at Taehyung incredulously. “In the middle of midterms? I know Joon is a prodigy, but he needs to give the rest of us a break.”

“It’s just a kickback, nothing too big.” Taehyung shrugged, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “He said something about this new strain of weed he tried a few days ago and wanted to share it with everyone.”

“You know I don’t smoke,” Jimin said, fingers flying on the keyboard even as he talked to Taehyung. “It’s so bad for you.”

“Yet you’ll down a fifth of vodka by yourself no problem,” the other boy retorted with a scoff, a smug look on his face. “Just come to the party. Pregame at my place. C’mooon, it’ll be fun.”

~*~

“I thought you said it was a kickback!” Jimin yelled at Taehyung, his voice barely audible over the loud music blaring through the speakers. “I don’t even recognize any of these people!”

Entering the house felt like walking into a different dimension, one 15 degrees warmer, humid, and hazy. Jimin blinked his eyes to adjust to the strobing LED lights, wrinkling his nose at the strong smell of weed. He fanned the air in front of him while following closely behind Taehyung through the crowds of bodies, muttering apologies every few seconds whenever other people backed up against him.

Three couples were making out on the stairs, barely two or three steps away from each other, and Jimin watched, perplexed. He wasn’t some scandalized virgin, but he did sort of hate big social situations like this, much preferring the quiet of an empty dance studio that he had all to himself. In theory, he loved parties: he liked hanging out with people, dancing, playing games, drinking–but in practice, it was much sweatier, much louder, much more stressful. He only ever came to parties like this when Tae dragged him there, and this one was turning out to be almost as uncomfortable as that one house party they hit during Halloweekend, where someone got crossed and peed on the couch. The bar was high.

“Helloooo!” Taehyung shouted as he opened the door to Namjoon’s room, Jimin trailing behind him with a small wave. As soon as he stepped in, though, the smoke cloud entered his lungs and he coughed, his eyes watering as he tried to catch his breath. “You guys started without us, I see.”

“Yeah shit, sorry, we forgot to turn on the fan,” Hoseok laughed, getting up to switch on the box fan in the window. “You gonna be okay, Chim?”

Jimin nodded, raising the handle of vodka he had in his hand. “I’ll live.”

“You don’t smoke?” an unfamiliar voice asked, and Jimin’s eyes fell on quite possibly the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. He quirked a pierced brow up at Jimin, smoke rising around his face as he spoke.

“Right, you guys haven’t met yet,” Namjoon said, slinging an arm around the boy’s shoulders. The stranger smiled hazily at Jimin, his eyes crinkling slightly at the action. “This is Jungkookie, I’m planning on picking him up as a little in KASA. That’s Jimin and Taehyung. Those two are joined at the hip.”

“Call me Jungkook,” he said, his voice silky smooth. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“You’re being really obvious,” Taehyung whispered in Jimin’s ear as he pulled his hand to guide him to the spot next to Jungkook on the ground. Jimin tried not to look at him, but he could feel his eyes boring into him. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“So, no smoking?” Jungkook asked again, and Jimin clicked his tongue.

“Yeah, I’m a dancer. I try not to.”

Hoseok scoffed. “You literally have not smoked once in your entire life,” he teased. “You don’t ‘try not to’—you avoid that shit like the plague.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with that,” Jungkook said, handing the bong to Taehyung, who thanked him. “You don’t like what you don’t like. Though I will say, you're kind of missing out, especially with this new shit.” There was a teasing lilt in his voice, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Jimin was absolutely drowning.

He turned to look at Taehyung as he took a rip, watching the water in it bubble as he inhaled. Taehyung handed it to Yoongi, mouth pressing into a line as he held in the smoke, tilting his head back when he finally exhaled, blinking slowly. Jimin had to admit that his best friend was hot as fuck, especially like this. He bit his lip as he imagined what Jungkook looked like while doing that. He glanced over at said man to see him already looking at him, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling.

“I don’t know how I ever used to smoke out of a bong without ice,” Taehyung groaned, settling back on his palms. “It’s so crisp. Just felt like I was breathing normally. Fuck, it’s been too long.”

Jin’s squeaky laugh made everyone let out a chuckle, watching him struggle to get his words out through his laughing fit. He had always been a giggly high. “Re-Remember that time, we used a gra-gravity bong, and you got so fucking high you sent Jimin’s nudes–”

“You guys wanna play a game?” Jimin asked, and everyone made noises of agreement. He could feel Jungkook staring at him but he ignored it, his face flushing in embarrassment. That was not a story he was ready for Jungkook to hear.

It had been a couple weeks since they last all got together, most of them being in their junior and senior years. Jimin reminisced about the times when they all lived on campus, within walking distance of each other, even some of them just down the hall. A lot had changed since then, but one thing hadn’t:

“You fucking suck at this!” Hoseok yelled as Jimin took another pull, finishing off the last of the bottle, trying not to choke as Hoseok whacked his shoulder. He hadn’t drank that much, really, he just took large ones, and Jungkook and Tae had taken a couple of swigs as well. Jimin would never admit how much the sight of Jungkook’s lips wrapped around the opening of the bottle affected him.  “We even gave you a handicap, and Jungkook homie stocked for you twice!!”

“Fuck off,” he groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and capping the empty bottle, placing it on the ground. He swatted Taehyung’s hand away when he reached over to ruffle his hair, making him laugh and punch his arm instead. “I hate this stupid game.”

“Let’s just chill and watch something,” Yoongi drawled, his eyes almost closed shut. He placed his controller on the coffee table, arm slinging over the back of the sofa. Everyone nodded, sinking into their seats on the couches, and Namjoon opened Netflix on the tv, selecting New Girl. Classic.

Jimin glanced around the room through his drunken haze, his vision lagging as his head moved around. He always wondered what it felt like to get high, or even crossed. He reached into the party size bag of chips in his lap and came up empty, groaning loudly. He didn’t miss the way Jungkook’s eyes fixed on him as the sound escaped his mouth. “Imma go grab some more chips from downstairs,” he slurred, sighing as he got to his feet.

No one really acknowledged him, too focused on the show, so Jimin just slipped out, stumbling a little more than he’d like to admit. The world was rocking underneath him, tossing him against the wall as he walked down the hallway, hand coming out to grasp at the door frame to his right. He paused there to lean his head against the wood, trying to steady himself.

“Hi, pretty,” a voice came from behind him, and Jimin’s brow furrowed. It didn’t sound like anyone he knew, so he was slow to raise his head, still leaning on the wall for support.

The stranger rested a hand on his shoulder as they came around to his front, and before Jimin could process anything, his mouth was being captured in a kiss, the hand on his shoulder coming up to roughly cup his jaw. Jimin panted into the stranger’s mouth, the pleasant feeling clashing with the confusion in his thoughts. He felt a tongue slide between his lips and he welcomed it, leaning into the wet warmth–and suddenly everything was gone, a loud “ hey!” and a thud making Jimin’s eyes fly open to see the sight in front of him.

Jungkook was holding some guy, presumably the one who had been kissing Jimin just now, up against the wall by the collar of his shirt, a venomous look in his eye. “Are we gonna have a problem?” he asked lowly, the other guy shaking his head frantically. Jungkook tossed him to the side, the man stumbling a bit as he scrambled away. “Good. Fuck off.”

Jimin just gaped at the boy in front of him, eyes darting down to the clenched fist at his side, then back up to his face, still turned in the direction of the guy he sent running away. “Jungkook? What the hell was that?” His brows furrowed and his mouth pressed into a pout, crossing his arms.

Jungkook turned to face him fully, an unreadable look on his face. “You’re drunk, and some asshole just tried to take advantage of you, that’s what happened.”

Something about the way he spoke made Jimin feel brave, made him feel reckless. He took a step towards him, chin tilted up to maintain eye contact. He slipped his hands around Jungkook’s waist and linked them behind the small of his back, head cocking to the side. He moved his gaze to the lip piercing on Jungkook’s face and wondered what the cool metal would feel like against his tongue. “What if I told you I liked it? That I wanted him to kiss me?”

Jungkook’s nostrils flared slightly as he tongued the inside of his cheek. He tangled a hand in Jimin’s hair and tugged, a gasp leaving Jimin’s lips as his head fell backwards, forcing him to look at Jungkook through fluttering eyelashes. “Then I’d call you a liar.”

Jimin leaned in first, eyes fluttering closed as Jungkook pressed into him, their lips slotting together  perfectly. Jimin's mouth fell open as he gasped, barely having time to breathe before Jungkook was on him again, devouring him and swallowing his moans. Jimin broke away to mouth down the sharp line of Jungkook’s jaw, licking and sucking, nipping at the part right under his ear. Jungkook bit down on Jimin’s shoulder with a gruff moan, rolling his hips forward, his hard cock rubbing against Jimin’s through their pants. It wasn’t enough.

“ More ,” Jimin whined against his mouth, “want you to fuck me, need to feel you inside of me, please, Jungkook, ple-”

“Get a fucking room!” Someone shouted from down the hall, and the two of them pulled away from each other, starting at each other with wide eyes before bursting into laughter. Jimin thought Jungkook looked prettiest like that, his eyes sparkling, a light pink dusting his cheeks. But right now all he wanted was to hear more of his rough groans, and feel him stretch him until he felt like he was ripping into two.

~*~

Jungkook had barely stepped foot into his dorm before he was pinning Jimin against the door, one arm snaking around his waist to grip his ass, the other roughly pulling at his hair. Jimin melted into his touch, slipping his hands under Jungkook’s shirt to run his hands up his chiseled torso, feeling his muscles tensing under his smooth skin. Jungkook hissed at the cold touch and Jimin just smiled into their kiss, their teeth clashing and tongues twirling, bodies grinding desperately.

“Jimin,” Jungkook gasped, his head lolling back against the door with a soft thud . Jimin chased his mouth with his, getting onto his toes, but still not quite able to reach the right angle. Jungkook’s big hands on his ass were suddenly hoisting him up, Jimin’s legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. Jimin moaned loudly, feeling pleased with himself as a smirk spread on Jungkook’s lips, his kisses turning a little more bruising, a little more desperate.

Jungkook walked them over to his bed, Jimin falling onto his back with a giggle. With Jimin’s legs still around his waist, Jungkook leaned forward, pressing his palms into the mattress on both sides of Jimin’s face. Jimin looked up at him from this position, his chest rising and falling as he admired the fucked-out expression on Jungkook’s face, his hair ruffled from where his hands had tugged it in all directions.

Jimin wet his lips. “Are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonna fuck me?”

Jungkook laughed, dipping his face down so their noses were touching. “You want my dick that bad, baby?”

Jimin groaned, his head pressing back into the bed, “C’mon, you know I do,” he whined. Jungkook started kissing down the side of his neck, “Wanted you as soon as I saw you. Wanted to sit in your lap, feel your hard cock rubbing against me– ah!”

Jungkook’s tongue darted out to lick over the blooming hickey he just planted at the junction of Jimin’s shoulder and neck. Jimin whacked his chest weakly, frowning. “What the fuck, that’s super visible!”

“That’s the point,” Jungkook said simply, a coy smile on his lips.

Jimin’s had plenty of hookups, been in this position too many times to count. But there was something about the way Jungkook touched him, took his time with his movements, let his touch linger just a hair longer than he’d expected. It was new and thrilling, made every hair on his body stand up as he anticipated how he’d touch him next.

By the time Jungkook reached over to his desk to grab lube from the drawer, Jimin was squirming and grasping at anything he could reach, eager for Jungkook’s touch, yearning for it. He spat into his palm before wrapping it around the head of Jungkook’s hard dick in front of his face. Jungkook hissed at the wet sensation, hand gripping the wood table to steady himself as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Put it in your mouth,” he breathed after a few moments, swatting Jimin’s hand away and scooting his hips forward. Jimin’s jaw dropped immediately, licking a stripe from the base to the tip, swirling around the head before sinking his mouth down on the length, whimpering when it hit the back of his throat. “Fuck, just like that baby. You take dick so well, don’t you?”

“Mm,” Jimin whined, coming up for air before mouthing at it again, taking it even deeper this time. The sound of Jungkook’s broken groans and panting from above him set his insides aflame, pre-cum leaking out of his dick. His hips bucked up, dick bouncing against his lower abs and meeting nothing but air, tears of frustration pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Jungkook seemed to understand, bringing one hand down to wrap it around his leaking cock, making Jimin’s eyes roll back in pleasure. He panted around Jungkook’s length, spit dribbling down his chin, grateful moans echoing from his swollen lips.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” Jungkook asked, his hand gripping the back of Jimin’s head as he nodded. “Fuck, okay, thank you baby. I’m so close already.”

Jimin held eye contact with him as he brought himself to orgasm, his hands squeezing his muscled thighs on the sides of his face. “ Fuck ,” Jungkook panted, “gonna come, shit, Jimin–!” He tried to pull out but Jimin held him in place, swallowing around him, burying his nose in his groin as his load shot down his throat. Jungkook groaned through his high, hips stuttering, Jimin’s name a mantra on his lips.

Jungkook recovered quickly and returned the favor, and Jimin came faster than he expected, the alcohol making him more sensitive. He would’ve liked Jungkook to fuck him open, make him grip his sheets as he pounded into him, but he was too impatient. He panted as he lay on the bed, the sheets sticky with his sweat, ribbons of cum painted on his belly.

“So pretty,” Jungkook said, pressing a kiss to his lips. Jimin closed his eyes as he smiled, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through his veins.

~*~

“What’s it like?” Jimin asked, eyeing the pipe in Jungkook’s hand. “Smoking. Being high.”

Jungkook contemplated it for a moment, softly exhaling smoke into the air. “It’s different for everyone. For me, I guess it’s pretty relaxing, just… nice. I don’t know. I don’t really think about it anymore.”

“I want to try it.”

Jungkook’s brows knit together as he looked over at him, his lips pursed into a thin line. “You sure? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Jimin shrugged. “I just want to try, one puff shouldn’t hurt, right?”

Jungkook’s eyes searched his face for any hesitancy, and Jimin hoped he looked as confident as he felt. Because he did, really. He sobered up a while ago, his head and vision clear. It wasn’t the first time he thought of trying it, but when he had asked Taehyung, he just laughed at him, saying something along the lines of, ‘Damn, this weed is strong.’

“I just don’t wanna like, be responsible for corrupting you, or anything,” Jungkook chuckled, setting the pipe down on his desk and playing with the lighter.

“You just came in my mouth, right here on this bed, like 10 minutes ago,” Jimin deadpanned, rolling his eyes and reaching for the pipe himself. Jungkook threw his head back with laughter, his eyes falling to Jimin’s puffy, pink lips when he looked at him again. His breath stuttered as he bit his lip, and Jimin knew that in that moment, he won. “Light it for me, baby?”

Jungkook inhaled sharply through his nose as Jimin scooted closer to him on the bed, resting his bent right leg on Jungkook’s left thigh. Jimin held the pipe to his lips and looked up at Jungkook through his eyelashes, satisfaction blooming in his chest at the look on his face: like Jungkook was a predator, and Jimin was his prey.

“Only take as much as you think you can handle,” Jungkook warned, and Jimin nodded. He had never actually done it himself, but he had watched his friends do it countless times  before, so he wasn’t entirely clueless. Jimin exhaled steadily as Jungkook flicked the lighter, his eyes parting from his face to glance down as he brought the small flame to meet the buds in the bowl. The soft crackle of the burning embers as Jimin inhaled echoed quietly in the otherwise silent room, and Jimin closed his eyes as he fought the urge to cough.

He inhaled sharply, drawing the smoke from his mouth into his lungs. He felt it prick at his insides for a second then let it all out, expecting to feel the warm mist floating out of his lips. His eyes fluttered open when he realized Jungkook was on him, drawing the smoke into his own mouth. Jimin gaped slightly as a white trail drifted up out of the corner of his lips, framing his perfect face.

✤ Stars in the Sky (That Already Died) {F + A}

⤏ fantasy au; apocalypse au // jjk x reader

the day the stars fell, one of them crash landed in front of your apartment. his name was Jungkook, and he was tasked with something much larger than your feeble human mind could ever comprehend. but he saved your life, and you were determined to spend the rest of it by his side.

chapter list: 01 ; 02 ; 03 | series tag

updates weekly!

✤ Blue Dream (M) {F + A + S}

⤏ frat boy!jungkook; dancer!jimin; college au; friends with benefits au // jjk x pjm

Jimin is a straight-A student and dance prodigy, an overachiever with unwavering determination to succeed. but when Jungkook comes crashing in, lighter in hand, he’s all too willing to let him derail the course of his life. maybe he had been waiting to watch it burn this whole time.

chapter list: 01 ; 02 | series tag

✤ Blood and Fire (M) {A + S}

⤏ underground fighter!jungkook; tutor!oc; college au; enemies to lovers // jjk x reader

a life of hardship has turned Jungkook into a fighter—a damn good one, at that. so why the hell are you so insistent on making an enemy out of him? it's like you're just begging for him to pin you down and shut you up.

chapter list: 01 | series tag

✤ Pray for the Wicked {F + A}

⤏ serial killer!jungkook; writer!oc // jjk x reader

your friends sign you up for a new dating app that determines matches based on your internet search history. you only get one match: some guy named Jungkook, who has searched "best ways to kill someone" almost as many times as you. you assume he's a writer, like you, but the dirt under his fingernails looks suspiciously like dried blood...

chapter list: teaser | series tag

✤ Blue Dream (M) {F + A + S}

⤏ frat boy!jungkook; dancer!jimin; college au; friends with benefits au // jjk x pjm

Jimin is a straight-A student and dance prodigy, an overachiever with unwavering determination to succeed. but when Jungkook comes crashing in, lighter in hand, he’s all too willing to let him derail the course of his life. maybe he had been waiting to watch it burn this whole time.

✤ chapter list: 01 ; 02 | series tag

✤ Save Me {F + A}

⤏ bad boy!yoongi; college au; friends to lovers // myg x reader

The world wasn’t perfect. But with you in it, Yoongi thought it got pretty damn close. Too bad he’s a fuck up that doesn’t deserve your love, no matter how much you want to give it to him.

completed.

✤ When Lillies Bloom {F + A}

⤏ friends to lovers; angst with a happy ending // knj x reader

It's a cruel fate to be allergic to the things you find most beautiful.

completed.

coming soon...

coming soon...

“What should we do?” you asked, your voice small. “They’re right in front of my house.”

“We’ll just… go to mine,” Jin said, steering you in the direction of his home. You nodded numbly, still staring at the police cars.

“Mom!” Jin called out once you were inside. The kind-eyed woman you had come to have as another mother figure in your life came around the corner, a towel in her hands.

Her eyes fell on your panicked faces and her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“M-My parents, there are police outside of my house, it has to be about them.” Your lip wobbled as you spoke, heavy tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Oh.” Jin’s mom crouched in front of you as you cried, wiping away your tears. “Oh honey, you stay as long as you need. You’re safe here, okay? Do you want some ice cream?”

You nodded against her chest, squeezing her back as tightly as you could. You didn’t know what would happen next, but since you had them, you felt like you would be okay.

As soon as you saw Jin’s tear-streaked face through your peephole, you knew something was wrong. You had no real way of knowing what, but you suddenly were transported to that day from ten years ago, when you were both so small and naïve. You could see it in his eyes, bloodshot and glassy: he was experiencing the end of the world.

He started to explain the situation, his voice frantic as he spoke through hysteric sobs. Your head felt like it was underwater, ears muffled and ringing, barely catching the words as he spoke. Break-in… intruder… bloody… bodies… Your legs were wobbly and you would’ve collapsed if not for the way you clutched the door knob, the cool metal being your only tether to your physical reality.

You forced yourself to move, to comfort him. His fingers were cold as you gripped them tightly in one hand, your other one crossed over the wide expanse of his back to squeeze his left shoulder as he trembled. You hugged him as tightly as you could, feeling his hot tears soaking the side of your head, sliding along the curve of your ear. Tears of your own dripped silently down your cheeks, but you were focused on the man in your arms, doing whatever you could to hold the broken pieces of him together.

You lowered the both of you to the ground, right there in your front doorway, the chill of the night air nipping at your cheeks. His arms wrapped around you even tighter as he choked on his grief, his heartbroken yells echoing in the empty house. You still said nothing, internalizing your sorrow so as to not distract from his.

Chest heaving, face red, he pulled away to look you in the eyes. You’d known him practically your entire life, but you had no idea who he was at that moment. Your heart clenched as he gripped your shoulders, wincing slightly as his fingernails dug into your flesh.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” he seethed in a voice you had never heard before. Cold sweat pricked at your upper back and every hair on your body stood up. You weren’t sure what you were crying about anymore–whether it was from the grief or the pure terror that washed over you. “Whoever did this, I’ll kill them with my own hands.”

~*~

“Careful,” you said, setting the bowl of soup down on the nightstand beside him. “Wait for it to cool down a bit.”

Jin barely acknowledged you, bloodshot eyes fixated on his hands in his lap. You didn’t take it personally. You sat next to his legs at the foot of the bed, resting your hand on his knee. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

He nodded. “Okay, I’m here,” you said, crawling up and sliding under the blanket next to him. His hand reached out for you and you took it, immediately rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

He had stopped crying, but he also stopped doing anything else. A few moments passed while he forgot to breathe, and he gasped heavily for air, your eyes widening in panic before he settled back into a normal rhythm. You didn’t know what to say. When it was your parents ten years ago, Jin was there for you, but now that the roles were reversed you felt frozen.

“... I’m so glad you’re safe,” he eventually said, the sudden sound of his voice snapping you out of your thoughts. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you.”

“You’ll never have to think about that,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’ll always have me.”

You saw his eyes flood again, and you knew you said something wrong. “That’s what they used to tell me,” he choked out, and you felt like someone stabbed you through the heart. You could hear his parents’ voices so clearly in your head, telling you that they loved you, that they would do so forever. That you’d never have to worry about not having a family again, because you would always have them.

And always was a promise that was made to be broken, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You brought your other hand up to his hair to tangle your fingers in it as he buried his face in your shoulder. It was all you could do, but you knew it wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m so sorry, Jin.”

After a while of stroking his hair, you noticed that he fell asleep, and you sighed at his sleeping form. The silence opened up a new opportunity for your grief to strike, your eyes stinging as you held back tears. You softly slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake him. You looked at the now cold bowl of soup on the stand, and your stomach growled, as if on cue. You picked it up and tiptoed out of your room, the door softly clicking behind you.

The hum of the microwave was a welcome noise, just barely loud enough to disrupt your thoughts but not so loud that you were afraid of waking Jin. You stopped it before the timer hit zero, a knock at the door making you jump right as you were about to take it out.

Your heartbeat raced as you reached for the baseball bat you kept in the space between your fridge and the wall, your heart pounding. You slowly inched towards the door, keeping your stride and breath as silent as possible, lining your eye up with the peephole.

“What the fuck?” you breathed, disbelief lacing your words. You barely cracked the door open, unsure if you should let him in.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, offering a small wave. His lip was split, dried blood tracing a line from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, and his left eye was slightly bruised. You couldn’t tell if his dark hair was damp from sweat or blood at first, but then you watched as a drop of blood trailed down his forehead. He clutched his left bicep with his right hand, red peeking out in the spaces between his fingers. He seemed unable to stand upright, his shoulder pressing into the wall next to your door.

“What the fuck?” you repeated, your voice a harsh whisper. You refused to open the door any wider, the sharp smell of iron making your nose scrunch. “What happened? Why are you–”

“Help now, questions later,” he groaned. He took a step only to teeter forward, his leg giving out.

You were barely able to thrust the door open in time to catch him, your right hand still gripping the bat tightly so it didn’t clatter to the ground. “I can’t believe you,” you hissed. “My friend is in my bedroom, he can’t see you like this!”

“You have a bathroom,” he quipped unhelpfully, slinging one of his arms around your shoulders so he could trudge alongside you. He glanced at the bat in your hand and chuckled. “Nice weapon.”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you bit as you set it back in its place. And maybe you were being a bit too hard on him considering the trail of blood he was leaving on your floor, but you were still angry at him for last time, and he couldn’t have picked a worse moment to show up like a wounded puppy on your doorstep.

“You fixed the sliding door, I see,” he commented with a nod. There was no way anyone else would be this talkative when they were in critical condition. Not that you would know, of course. The entire scenario was unreal to you, his stuttering breath fanning against your neck as he leaned his weight into you. Maybe you actually fell asleep back in the bed with Jin and this was just a crazy dream. But his hand gripping your shoulder felt too real, too warm, too desperate.

When you looked down at his face you saw his eyes squeezed shut, his entire expression screaming that he was in pain. You tore your gaze away to stare at the wall in front of you, your insides twisting at the thought of what he was feeling. You knew he was strong, super humanly so. The thought of something stronger than him, causing him this much damage, filled you with dread.

You unceremoniously dumped him on top of your toilet, holding your finger out to silence any protest that was about to leave his mouth. He pouted, but you stood firm. “I’m going to check on my friend to make sure he’s still asleep. So stay here, stay quiet, and don’t. Move. Understand?”

Jungkook chuckled at your stern expression, his eyebrow quirking upwards as he tongued the inside of his cheek. “Yes ma’am.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flirting with you. But those were thoughts you couldn’t afford to be thinking, not like this. Not after the world almost ended last week.

You scowled at him one last time before slipping out of the bathroom and slowly opening the door to your room, peeking around the door frame to have a look at Jin. His peaceful sleeping face made your heart wrench, relief blossoming in your chest. It was a nice contrast from how he was earlier, and you only hoped his dreams were as serene as he looked. You shut the door carefully, sighing once it was closed.

You went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before returning to the bathroom where Jungkook was waiting for you. When you opened the door you were surprised to see him curled into himself, his eyebrows knit together and his lip curled downwards in a painful expression. His breathing was labored and uneven, his eyes rolling back.

“Hey,” you hissed, patting his cheek firmly to snap him out of it. “Hey, look at me.”

His head fell back as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, huffing through his nose. You handed him the water bottle and he weakly reached for it before recoiling and hissing in pain. “Fuck,” he spat, coughing a couple times while you held the open bottle up to his lips for him to drink when he was ready. His eyelashes fluttered as he tilted his face up to drink, and you thought about how his neck would look with your marks on his skin. You cleared your throat and looked away, capping the bottle. “Thanks,” he muttered hoarsely.

“I hope you're aware that I am extremely unqualified for this, and you shouldn’t have come to me for help,” you grumbled, grabbing your first aid kit from the medicine cabinet.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he said. He closed his eyes, and you patted his cheek again, harder this time. His eyes shot open before narrowing at you, and you just shrugged.

“Then don’t look at me like that,” you retorted. He stared at you for a couple more seconds before huffing and turning away. The absolute audacity for him to have an attitude in a situation like this was baffling. “I’m gonna need you to take off your shirt.”

“At least take me out to dinner first,” he joked, and you would’ve laughed if he were anyone else. It wasn’t that you were repulsed by his advances—in fact, it was the complete opposite. And that made you nervous. He was too charming, too comfortable after having met you only once before. “Wow, nothing?”

You could feel his eyes as they bore into you but you ignored him, running some warm water over a hand towel in the sink and wringing it out. When you looked back at him you couldn’t help but take in the absolute masterpiece that was the body in front of you, toned muscles glistening in the fluorescent lighting of your bathroom. He seemed to notice you checking him out, a smirk playing at his lips. You didn’t miss the way his chest heaved, though, from the pain of removing his shirt with his injuries. It made your heart wrench.

You gently dabbed at his wounds with the towel, trying to keep your breathing even at the sight of all the blood. Bruises blossomed in several places, the biggest one being on his ribcage, a dark purple spot about the size of your fist. Most of the actual cuts you saw were smaller than you expected, except for one just underneath his collarbone, stretching from his sternum to the outer edge of his chest, and the gash that ran down his left arm.

“Don’t worry about those,” he said, noticing the look on your face. “I’ll stitch them up myself.”

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip anxiously. “I wasn’t going to offer.”

He laughed, the smile lingering on his face as he watched you. “Your arms look better,” he said, noticing that they were scabbed over and completely healed in a few places where the scratches were surface level. “They’ll scar, though.”

“Yeah, it’s been over a week since you last saw them,” you said, tone harsher than you intended. You had rolled up your sleeves while wetting the towel, but you quickly pulled them back down once he pointed them out. It was the first and only time anyone had commented on them since you got hurt, and it came from him, of all people. Not even Jin had asked about them, and he had seen them when they were still bandaged.

He looked surprised, and maybe even a little hurt. You couldn’t tell. You had to keep reminding yourself that you didn’t even know him. “... I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I wanted to, I just had some things to take care of. Which sounds like an excuse, I know, but–”

“No, I told you to leave. And you did a good job of staying away, until now.” You pressed a little too hard with the cloth, eliciting a grunt from his lips. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

His hand reached up to grab your wrist gently, but you recoiled, reminded of what happened the last time he did that. His hand hung in the air for a moment, looking genuinely dejected. A familiar feeling bubbled in your veins, and you clenched your teeth.

“What do you want?” you spat, throwing the towel onto the sink.

He looked at you, confused. “I-I don’t–”

“What. Do you. Want.” You swallowed down the emotions that threatened to spill over, ones that didn’t entirely relate to him, but that had been buried down for too long. Fuck, you didn’t even get to grieve yet because he decided to just show up, begging for your help. And if there was anything you wished you could change about yourself, it was that you physically couldn’t resist helping someone. The guilt would literally eat you alive if you tried to walk away from someone in need.

But in this moment you realized that the other situation could do the exact same thing to you, set you on fire from the inside, take every last ounce of your sanity until nothing was left of you except your unbridled emotions. And those were what really hurt you, what left you scarred and damaged.

Jungkook was bad news and danger, all wrapped up in a pretty package.

“... I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry, [Name]. I’ll go.”

You watched as he pitifully tried to get up, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the counter to push himself up. His face reddened with effort, teeth digging into his already split lip. You placed your hand over his mouth just in time to silence the groan that escaped it, and he slumped back onto the toilet, defeated.

You moved the hand you had on his mouth to his shoulder as you crouched down, getting level with him and looking at him eye-to-eye. The same guilt you saw on his face before was there again, maybe even more severe this time. “I’ll finish dressing your wounds,” you told him, your voice hushed but firm. “Then you’ll answer my questions.”

~*~

“Here,” you said, handing Jungkook a shirt to put on. “It’s the biggest one I own.”

“Thank you,” he replied. He grunted softly as he put it on, his movements slow and careful so he didn’t aggravate his wounds. His muscles rippled as he pulled the collar over his head, and you swallowed dryly, forcing yourself to look away and sitting next to him on the couch.

The position the two of you were in was familiar, him sitting so close that you could feel his body heat radiating. Although it was familiar, it was far from comfortable. Every breath he took, heavy from the pain, caused uneasiness to stir in your stomach.

“Your soup is getting cold,” he commented. “If you’re not going to talk to me, you should at least eat.”

You looked at him, trying to decode his intentions through his expressions and tone. When he was here before, he was strictly professional, a locked safe you didn’t have the password to. But the man sitting next to you tonight spoke to you like a familiar friend, cracking jokes and displaying concern for you. It felt wrong, like you were being manipulated somehow.

“You wanted to ask me about some things,” he prompted. “Right? What am I doing here?”

“Yeah,” you muttered.

He didn’t hesitate. “I was hurt, and I wanted to see you. That’s why I came.”

“And why did you want to see me?”

“To check on you.” His tone was earnest. “To make sure you were okay. I would’ve come tonight regardless of whether or not I needed your help. I’ve been wanting to come back since the night you made me leave.”

A line like that would’ve made you swoon just a few years ago when you were still bright eyed and fresh-faced, inexperienced and yearning for love. It might’ve still made you feel something now if it wasn’t coming from him.

“And why do I matter so much to you?” you asked, your tone soft, but as even as you could muster. You were guarded, yes, his behavior setting off all the alarms in your head–but you didn’t want him to know how deeply he was affecting you. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I know what kind of person you are, though.” His eyes were fixated on yours as he spoke, his voice gentle. “You care too much about others, to the point where you can’t let them care about you.”

Your knee jerk reaction was to think, that’s bullshit. But you knew that if every time you stopped yourself from crying was a star in the sky, you’d have filled up the entire galaxy. And that’d just be from this past week.

You balled your hand into a fist on your lap, and Jungkook hesitantly reached out to place his hand over it, giving you time to pull away. When you didn’t move, he gave your hand a light squeeze. Your vision got blurry and he sighed lightly, pulling you in for a hug.

“[Name]?” Jin’s voice croaked out. You jumped out of Jungkook’s arms almost comically, spinning around to see him standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

By some miracle, he hadn’t taken notice of Jungkook next to you. You shot up and grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around to lead him back to your room. “I’ll go heat up your soup, just go lie back down, okay?”

“Mmm, soup,” your best friend muttered in his sleepy delirium, letting you drag him back to your bed. It was times like these that you were grateful that he was such a deep sleeper. The days you had to wake him up to go to school or work, not so much. “Come to bed soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Just give me a moment.”

When you re-entered the living room, Jungkook was standing by your front door. You could tell by the way he couldn’t stand completely straight that he was in worse condition than you originally thought, even after seeing his injuries yourself. You hated that every time it seemed like you were getting somewhere with him, something wedged itself between you two and ruined the moment.

“Stay,” you said, the word leaving your mouth before you could think about it. He looked at you, surprised. But you knew how you felt, and everything inside you was just repeating that word over and over again, stay, stay. “You don’t have anywhere else to go, right? Stay here.”

“What about your friend?”

“I’ll make up some story later. You shouldn’t be going anywhere in that state.”

And maybe it was the look on his face, or the way his eyes visibly softened as he looked at you, but your heart started racing as he stepped towards you. When he enveloped you in his arms, it felt like your chest was going to explode. “Since we got interrupted earlier,” he said. “You take as much time as you need.”

You wanted to hold him, too, but you were afraid of hurting him. Then you remembered the gash on his chest, right where you were resting your head, and you pulled back to look up at him. “Your injury,” you said, and he just smiled down at you, a dangerously tender look on his face.

His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, and you melted into his touch. “Like I said, take as much time as you need.”

The shirt you had lent him had your scent on it, mixed with something different, that you realized was him. It wasn’t a strong scent, just barely noticeable, but it was oddly familiar given your limited interactions with him. You closed your eyes and took the deepest inhale you had in months, then exhaled out all the grief, the anxiety, the resentment. It wasn’t until you finally pulled away that you noticed the wetness in your eyes. And right as you were about to wipe them away, the pad of Jungkook’s thumb was lightly pressing on your face, brushing away the tear and clearing your vision.

“I should get Jin his soup,” you said, your cheeks burning slightly as the weight of his affectionate gesture sank in. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, there’s already pillows and blankets for you to use.”

“Thank you, [Name],” he said. “For everything.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, but the way he said your name made your heart flutter. “You literally collapsed on me. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

He reached up to grasp your hand, and you wondered when the feeling of his touch became so familiar, so comfortable. “I mean it. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I promise that when we get some time, I’ll explain everything.”

And maybe he was untrustworthy, maybe his intentions weren’t pure. But he made you feel supported in a way not even your longtime best friends have, and that wasn’t something to take lightly.

~*~

You woke up first, turning to see Jin’s back facing you, his shoulders rising and falling as he snored softly. You brushed his bangs away from his forehead, seeing his eyebrows wrinkle slightly at your touch. He didn’t have any other reaction, though, and you slowly slipped out of the covers, tucking him back in before exiting the room.

The empty living room shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did, disappointment feeling like a thorn in your heart. You nodded to yourself as you huffed out a heavy sigh. You should’ve known this would happen. The blankets and pillows were neatly folded on the couch, not a single sign that he was even here. Even the slight traces of blood on the floor that you dreaded the thought of cleaning were completely gone. It was a bit ridiculous to find that upsetting, you knew that. But the longer you stood there and searched for his presence, the heavier your sadness weighed on your shoulders. .

Then you heard the bathroom door click open behind you and you twirled around, your eyes meeting Jungkook’s. His hair was a bit ruffled, his eyes a little puffy, looking the most vulnerable, the most human you’d ever seen him. The wide collar of his shirt hung lopsided on his shoulders, showing a bit of his collarbone and the bandage that covered the wound underneath it. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he walked up to you. You resisted the urge to hold your arms out for a hug, the movement becoming an expectation at this point.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice a bit raspy. The sound of it made your stomach flutter. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. “N-Nothing.”

His eyes shone with knowing amusement, leaning forward and tilting his face down so your noses were almost touching. “You didn’t think I’d just leave, did you? You’re too cute.”

“Fine, you caught me,” you pouted. “I was worried about you.”

“You don’t ever have to worry about me,” he reassured you, his eyes fond as he looked at you. From the first moment you saw them, you noticed that they were so expressive, luring you into the deep end. You were afraid of how much he was able to make you feel, while also displaying his emotions so openly. “How are you feeling today?”

“I should be asking you that,” you chuckled, tracing the exposed bandage on his chest with your finger. The corners of your mouth tugged downwards into a small pout, your brows knitting together. There was a glint in his eyes when you looked back up at him, and you subconsciously licked your lips. The glint you saw suddenly transformed into something darker as he pulled you closer, one arm wrapping around your waist with his hand resting on the small of your back, his other hand tangling itself with yours on his chest. Your entire face felt like it was on fire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, glancing at your wet lips. “Never seen anyone like you.”

“J-Jungkook,” you breathed, not knowing what to do.

He tilted his head, his eyes still fixated on your mouth, and you panicked internally. It would be so easy to just let your eyes flutter closed, to press your lips against his–to let his hands roam your body, let him mouth at your jaw as your head lolled back. It would be easy, too easy, to drown in his kisses as you tugged at his hair, swallowing his noises and losing yourself in his touch.

Easy was dangerous, and difficult called for every ounce of willpower you held in your body. Pain stabbed in your chest as you turned your face away from him, his soft lips brushing against your cheek. His grip on you loosened, his hands falling back to his sides, and you wondered immediately if you just made a huge mistake.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” The shine in his eyes was gone, but he played it off with a smile as he ruffled his hair. He took a small step backwards, but it felt like he was miles away. “Did you want breakfast? I can help you cook.”

Of course he could cook. It was instant karma telling you you fucked up, ruined your chances with the best guy you’d met in years. But it was too late to take it back now, so you bit your tongue and smiled back at him. “I’d love that. How do pancakes sound?”

And maybe if you had accepted the kiss, you’d be all over each other in the kitchen, dusting each other’s noses with flour and sharing laughs and chaste kisses. But instead, an awkward silence hung in the air, your small kitchen feeling more cramped than usual while you tiptoed around him. So when your fingers brushed while you handed him the whisk, you recoiled, the contact setting your skin on fire.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, turning away from him so he couldn’t see the flush on your face.

“It’s really fine, you know,” he said, whisking the batter. “I haven’t given you any answers yet. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea and thinking I’m trying to distract you from that. I just genuinely got carried away.”

Right. Answers. The incident. The monster. His injuries. There was so much to talk about. “I just don’t feel like I can really trust you,” you quietly admitted. “I’m grateful to you for saving my life and all, and I’m very attracted to you, don’t get me wrong. But you’re mysterious, dangerous, and directly connected to the most catastrophic event in like, 50 years. And that’s scary, you know?”

He quirked a brow. “I thought girls liked mysterious and dangerous guys,” he joked, and you shoved him. Then he took on a more serious tone, “The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable, so even if you decide you want nothing to do with me once I’ve told you everything, I’ll completely understand.”

You gave him an appreciative smile, and he returned it. Maybe you were being naïve, letting your hopeless romanticism get the best of you, but that just felt like you were getting too much in your head. The man in front of you had been kind, comforting, and reassuring. So you decided to take his actions and words at face value, at least for now. For the sake of your own sanity.

The sound of a loud yawn and shuffling feet broke your attention away from Jungkook, your eyes landing on Jin as he approached the kitchen. “Morning,” he mumbled.

“Morning! Uh, Jin, this is Jungkook. He’s my… guest.” Jungkook looked at you with questioning amusement on his face, and you rolled your eyes. “We’re making panca-”

“Wait, I fucking recognize you,” Jin seethed, jabbing a finger at Jungkook. Your entire body tensed and you instinctively inched closer to the man next to you, his arm coming out to shoo you behind him. His entire body tensed, narrowed eyes trained on Jin’s towering frame. “You were there last night, you fucking asshole.”

“Jin, what are you saying?” Your voice trembled as you stumbled backwards. In all the years you’d known your best friend, you’d never been afraid of him. He was rarely ever angry, and never to this extent.

Jin strode forward menacingly, and Jungkook shoved you to the side, crossing in front of you to shield you from him. He was slightly shorter than him and the other used it to his advantage, looking down at him with fury in his eyes, his fists balled tightly. You didn’t know what to do, not wanting either of them to get hurt. “Hey, let’s not do this.” You barely recognized the sound of your own voice, the fear strangling your vocal chords.

“I watched the security footage from the house!” Jin shoved Jungkook’s chest, backing him into the wall. Jungkook’s nostrils flared as he huffed, but he didn’t fight back. You rushed over and grasped Jin’s wrist, but he flung you off, fisting the collar of Jungkook’s shirt and bringing his face close to his. “I fucking saw you there! Murderer!!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jungkook spat through clenched teeth.

“Jin, he’s hurt, let go of him!” You tried to wedge yourself between their bodies, but Jin just dragged Jungkook along the wall, bashing his head against it twice. Jungkook puffed his chest, fists tightened at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing.

“How did he get hurt? Did he tell you?” His eyes were wild as he looked back at you, his hands moving from his collar to wrap around his throat. He turned back to look at Jungkook, whose eyes frantically met yours. “Was it from my mother smashing a vase against your skull as you squeezed her last breath out of her, your hands around her throat, just like this? How about when my dad swung a knife at you, slashing at your neck but missing and cutting your chest instead?”

Your blood ran cold as you heard him describe two of the injuries Jungkook had, that you had seen with your own eyes. No. There was no way. It couldn’t be true… right? “Let him go. Let’s talk about this.”

Jin shook his head, his grip tightening. Jungkook’s face was turning a sickly shade of purple, a vein bulging in his forehead, his fingers weakly grasping Jin’s. “They would be disappointed in you, [Name],” he said, and your stomach dropped. He was really going to go there? When you hadn’t even had time to grieve yet? “They gave you everything. They loved you, clothed you, took you in when you had nobody, and you’re gonna defend the fucker who ki-!”

The bat in your hand met Jin’s skull with a sickening crack, his limp body crumpling to the ground. Jungkook fell, too, wheezing for air. You scrambled over to him, holding his face in your hands, brushing his hair out of the way, watching as his skin returned to a normal color. You wiped the stray tears that trailed down his cheeks, pressing your forehead to his as his breathing evened out. His frail hand reached up to meet yours, and you grabbed it tightly, a nonverbal way to tell him you had him, and he was safe.

He rolled his eyes. “What the hell happened to ‘Hi, Jimin, how are you?’ So rude.”

“Hi Jimin, how are you?” she mocked him. Jimin laughed, appreciative of her humor and their friendship. If it weren’t for Momo, he probably would’ve dropped this class even though it was required for his major. “You look like shit. Rough midterms season?”

“Kind of,” Jimin chuckled. “Let’s just say there are places I’d rather be.”

“Ohhh!” Momo giggled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I heard about Namjoon’s party last night. Who’s the lucky person?”

Jimin shook his head, smiling lazily. “My lips are sealed.”

“Ugh, you’re boring,” she sighed. Jimin rolled his eyes at her, sinking into a grande plié. “Have you started working on your piece for the winter showcase?”

“Who the hell do you think I am?” Jimin scoffed.

Momo squinted down at him. “So that’s a no.”

“Uh, obviously?”

“Don’t let Madame hear that,” she said, “or else she might give me your solo.”

The laugh that bubbled past Jimin’s lips was a little too genuine for Momo’s liking, her jaw dropping as she whacked his forearm. “Dick!”

Her eyes focused on something behind him, her expression turning serious. Jimin’s heart sank at the sight, his pulse quickening in anticipation. “Speak of the devil,” she mumbled lowly before raising her voice and speaking in a sickly sweet tone, “Good morning, Madame!”

He sighed, pursing his lips and making a face at Momo before plastering a smile on his face and spinning around as he echoed along with the rest of the class, “Good morning, Madame.”

As dreadful as the professor was, the class itself really wasn’t all that bad. Jimin was a natural born dancer, his body running on autopilot as he flawlessly carried out techniques he’d been training since he could walk. His extensions were effortless, his lines were clean, and his musicality was unmatched. He was truly a prodigy, and everyone around him knew it.

At least, that’s how the class usually went. Today it was anything but.

He was too distracted, too caught up in the daydream that was Jungkook’s touch, voice, and scent. The music was drowned out by the memories of his breathy moans, the dance studio fading away and morphing into his hazy dorm room. His techniques were sloppy, his core loose, his jumps barely leaving the ground. This was the worst he had ever felt during a class, and it was humiliating.

He barely snapped himself out of it long enough to hold his finishing position, chest rising and falling shakily as he breathed through his nose. He dropped his arms hastily to his sides and crossed the floor to fall in line, painfully aware of how Madame was staring at him.

“Jimin,” Madame’s voice rang out once the hour was over, “over here, please.”

He tried to ignore how his heart pounded in his rib cage as he trotted over to her. “Yes, Madame.”

“That was the most amount of mistakes I’ve ever seen.” She was stern as always, her words clipped. Each one was like a punch to Jimin’s gut. “Not just from you–from anyone. I’ve come to expect more from you, and I would only hope you have, too. Don’t bother showing up if you’re not going to do your best.”

Jimin’s jaw tensed. He was already beating himself up about this; he didn’t need a wrinkly, washed up Russian woman who hadn’t danced in decades to lecture him about it, too. He was about to turn and grab his things when she spoke again, “And the next time you get a hickey, just wear a scarf. It would be less obvious.”

The tips of his ears burned as Momo giggled at him. The frustration in his chest twisted into something stronger, uglier. He needed something, and there was one person he wanted to get it from.

~*~

It was a long shot, but Jimin’s feet were carrying him in the direction of Jungkook’s dorm before he even knew what he was doing. The walk from the dance hall to his building was shorter than he thought, the streets looking different in the daytime.

He awkwardly checked his phone while waiting for an actual resident to exit or enter so he could walk in, cringing internally. He remembered doing this a lot during his freshman and sophomore years, not just for when he visited friends that in different apartments, but when he visited people he had… another type of relationship with.

He wracked his brain for Jungkook’s room number, his memories hazy. He chewed his bottom lip as he thought about how he and Jungkook had been all over each other in the elevator. Heat built in his lower abdomen as he relived the memory. He let his muscle memory carry him down the hall, eyes scanning the name tags on the doors.

His breath caught in his throat when he came face to face with the one he was looking for. The fist he raised to knock on the door froze in place, his hand trembling slightly. Would Jungkook be creeped out by this? Panic built inside of him, settling like a block of cement in the pit of his stomach. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have come here.

“Jimin?”

The sinking feeling in his stomach grew stronger, sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He spun around with a grimace on his face, hand dropping awkwardly to his side. “Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook looked even better than his drunken memories depicted, his hair mussed with a few strands sticking to his forehead that shone with sweat. He cracked a small smile at Jimin, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Uh, hi. What are you… doing here?”

Jimin’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he took a deep inhale, blowing his bangs out of his eyes with a sigh. Jungkook watched him curiously. “I’m having a really shitty day.”

“But it’s barely 8:30,” Jungkook said, concerned. Jimin felt small under his judgmental gaze, sucking his breath through his teeth. He wasn’t welcome here, and he made a mistake. This whole morning, he had just been making mistakes.

“Yeah, I’ll just go.” Jimin tried to brush past him, but Jungkook stood in his way. He didn’t dare look up at him, the embarrassment too much to handle. “I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry.”

“... Shitty day, you said?” Jungkook asked, his hand coming up to cup Jimin’s cheek. “And you came to me?”

Jimin nodded, leaning into his touch slightly. His hand was warm, smelling slightly of iron, and he realized he probably just came back from the gym. He gasped when Jungkook’s hand suddenly moved to grip his jaw firmly, forcing Jimin to look up at him. The look on his face was familiar, his dark eyes blown wide with lust. All he could think about was how he wanted Jungkook to ruin him. He would be so good for him.

“Good boy,” he muttered, as if hearing Jimin’s thoughts.

Jungkook’s dorm looked different in the daytime, sunlight filtering through the blinds. But Jimin wasn’t there to admire the decor, and Jungkook’s wet mouth on his neck reminded him of that.

“Jungkook,” Jimin gasped, his lower back hitting the desk as Jungkook shoved his chest. He fell back onto it, Jungkook between his legs in a familiar position. The hard wood beneath him bruised his spine ever so slightly but Jimin welcomed the pain, the new location much more appropriate than the soft mattress he was on last night.

“You couldn’t even last half a day without running back to me,” Jungkook spoke. Jimin’s head rolled back as Jungkook stroked him through his sweatpants, his dick tenting the front of them. “Just one night, and your cock belongs to me. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes,” Jimin keened, knuckles white as he gripped the desk. Jungkook hooked his thumbs underneath his waistband, and Jimin hissed at his cold touch. Jungkook paused for half a second, his eyebrow twitching slightly, before pulling the sweatpants down and exposing his tights.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, his eyes drinking in the sight of his muscular legs in the grey cloth. “Fuck, I didn’t know you were a ballerina,” he breathed. He ran his hands over the soft fabric appreciatively, Jimin’s muscles tensing subconsciously under his feather-light touch.

“That’s a female term,” he corrected, hips bucking upwards in search of contact, moaning when he successfully grinded against Jungkook’s hardness.

Jungkook just blinked down at him in awe, licking his lips. “Turn over,” he commanded, patting the side of Jimin’s hip. “Wanna see your ass in those tights.”

“Ah!” Jimin cried out, heat blooming where Jungkook’s hand met his ass cheek. Jungkook inhaled sharply and groaned as he kneaded his plump butt, chuckling appreciatively.

“Such a perfect ass,” Jungkook breathed, slapping it again. Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut as he gasped, shivering with arousal. “Gonna fuck you like this, bent over my desk, so obedient for me.”

“Please,” Jimin begged, remembering that he hadn’t felt Jungkook inside of him yet. “Please fuck me, stretch me open, I need you.”

Jungkook was obviously experienced, knowing to warm the lube up in his hands before spreading it on him. He kept a firm hand on Jimin’s lower back as he massaged him open, Jimin’s face pressed into the cold wood underneath him, feeling his own hot breath against his cheek as he panted. When Jungkook twisted his fingers inside of him, he couldn’t help the way his back arched, mouth falling open and eyes rolling back. The hand Jungkook had on the small of his back reached around his throat, the pressure from his calloused fingers drawing out a choked moan from his lips.

Jungkook leaned forward, fingers still scissoring inside of him, to press kisses at the base of Jimin’s neck. “Tell me if it’s too much, baby,” he whispered, and Jimin nodded. “Do you feel good?”

“So, so good,” Jimin muttered in between panting breaths. The arousal made him feel lightheaded, or maybe it was the hand around his neck. Either way, he was absolutely wrecked, pliant under Jungkook’s touch. “I’m ready, just fuck me.”

Jungkook chuckled, trailing kisses down Jimin’s spine that made him shiver. “If you say so, love.”

Jimin whimpered when Jungkook took his fingers out. His head thumped against the desk while Jungkook reached into the drawer next to him for a condom, his breath staggering. When Jungkook rolled the condom on with a moan he didn’t expect the hand in his hair, tugging his head upwards. Jungkook’s lips were on his in an instant, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, tongue licking at the inside of his mouth. Jimin gasped when he pulls away, his eyelids heavy. Jungkook just smiled. Then he thrust into him, no warning, the movement burning so intensely, shooting up his spine. The noise that escaped Jimin’s mouth was desperate and satiated at the same time, the sensation painful, but in such a pleasurable way.

Jimin had had sex plenty of times before, in this exact position, over a desk, under another man–nothing about the circumstances was new. But the way Jungkook fucked him, his hips snapping and setting every nerve on fire before suddenly slowing and rocking into him tenderly–that was unlike anything Jimin had ever felt before. Jungkook knew how to fuck him, knew how to make him feel good, without even knowing his last name.

Then Jungkook’s fingers were around his length, stroking him at a pace that matched his thrusts, and Jimin felt himself lose control.

“Ah- J-Jungkook- coming!” Jimin gasped out, his orgasm wracking his entire body and leaving him shuddering. Cum shot out of him to paint the wood under him, Jungkook’s strokes slowing as he thrust backwards on him, riding out his orgasm.

Jungkook’s was only a few pumps away, sinking his teeth into Jimin’s shoulder as he came. A string of curse words spilled from his lips and Jimin got a strange feeling of satisfaction from hearing a broken version of his name in the mix.

He was being flipped over on his back before he could process what was happening, Jungkook capturing him in a breath-stealing kiss, his chest pressing against his. Jimin let his eyes fall closed, moving his mouth against his, swallowing the small noises Jungkook made.

For a few moments they just lay there like that, kissing each other lazily, limbs tangled. Jimin tried not to lose himself in the feeling.

~*~

Jimin got through his next classes with enough of a clear head for him to feel happy with himself. He had gotten his first midterm back, a large 97 in red ink that made his chest swell with pride. Maybe today wasn’t such a shitty day after all.

“It’s been years,” Taehyung said as soon as Jimin stepped foot into their apartment. He held his arms out from his seated position at the kitchen bar, and Jimin rolled his eyes, walking around him to the other side. Taehyung pouted. “So cold. I was waiting for you. I missed you so much.” He even managed to make his eyes a bit teary at that last sentence. Taehyung was truly a Theater kid, through and through.

“So dramatic,” Jimin chuckled, opening the fridge to peer inside. “I came home last night, I just had dance early this morning.”

“So?” Taehyung offered, leaning forward on his elbows and raising his brows, interested. "Was Jungkook’s dick as glorious as you imagined?”

Jimin sighed, “Ugh, even more so. I think he’s ruined me. How am I supposed to sleep with anyone else when his dick game is so strong?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything, and Jimin turned to see him with a serious expression on his face. “Uh, what?” Jimin laughed nervously.

“You know better than to be thinking things like that,” Taehyung chided, and Jimin’s eyes widened as he scoffed. “You’re a serial crusher, Park Jimin. There is no such thing as a no strings relationship with you; you’ve fallen for everyone you slept with more than once.”

And maybe that was a detail about himself that Jimin ignored too much, but he narrowed his eyes at Taehyung anyway, his arms crossing over his chest with a defiant, “I am not!”

“You can’t sleep with him again,” Taehyung said. “He’s Joon’s little, and you get too distracted when you’re in a relationship.”

“Who said anything about a relationship?” Jimin threw his hands up incredulously. “I’m a grown ass adult, Taehyung, I can fuck around without catching feelings.”

“You,” Taehyung muttered with a dry laugh, “are delusional. I love you with my whole heart, Jimin, but I can already see that this is a huge mistake.”

There that word was again. Jimin had heard it too many times today for him to not react the way he did, his lip curling into a sneer. “I didn’t come home to be lectured by you, Tae. Let me know to come back when you’re ready to talk to me like I’m a fucking adult.”

His apartment door slamed behind him and Jimin paused on the other side with a heavy sigh, his head thudding against the wood as he blinked through his anger.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he took his first step, one brow lifting as he read the message.

Mina

hey, it’s been a while. u doing anything rn?

Jimin licked his lips as he laughed dryly, admiring her timing. Taehyung could shove it. He could sleep with people without developing feelings, and Mina was proof of that.

Jimin