Mirrorball: Tallest Tiptoes
Previous: Masquerade Revelers
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst, Light Smut, Slice of Life
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 3.3K
Warnings: Swearing, Light. Smut (kissing), Mentions of Past Fight,
Summary: With the news of your relationship breaking, you find yourself scared and anxious over what the world will think of you, what ARMY will do to you, and how no one seems to care if you too, are shattering.
Master List
Listen: mirrorball by Taylor Swift
If you haven’t read peace or illicit affairs, you will be lost as they build upon each other.
Jungkook sets your donut, an apple fritter, on a plate before bringing it over to the coffee table, where you’ve perched your accompanying coffee. Sunk into your couch, eyes glued to your computer, you’re running side by side windows of Twitter and Buzzfeed, refreshing every few minutes, following all the trending topics, officially defying the guidelines the lawyers gave you.
“What are they saying?” Jungkook asks, arm draping behind your shoulders.
“Remember that list Big Hit made, of all my flaws and potential problems?” You ask, eyes still cast on your computer screen.
“I try to forget,”
“Me too. But it seems the internet has come up with their own list,” You glance at him, eyes scanning over his frame, iced coffee in one hand, slowly bringing it to his lips.
“Baby, don’t read it,” His free hand kneads your shoulder.
“Oh, I can’t escape it. There are three factions, one that hates me, one that loves me because you do, and one that is really mad you’ve been lying for so long,”
“I don’t like any of those.”
“This is my favorite: Jeon Jungkook, how DARE you lie to us? If you’re so happy, why not tell ARMY about it? The level of DECEPTION is just BEYOND. I can’t even stare at your beautiful handsome face when I know its capable of such bullshit!”
“Who wrote that?”
“Probably some 17-year-old. Here’s another: Imagine the pain he’s going through, having to feel like he has to lie to ARMY for years about this relationship. Either everyone hates her and their relationship, or he’s embarrassed of her. Poor Jungkook. I hope this isn’t just for publicity,”
“Y/N, please, don’t,” He pleads.
“Oh, this one is great. Why is he dating a fat American? Are there no fuckable women in whatever starved village he’s from?”
“You have to stop,” The deep notes of his voice, hitting his lower register, runs through your ears. He’s getting upset, but you can’t stop.
“Then, then, there’s the ones in support. Jungkook must be so in love to keep her a secret. Followed by: Have you read his statement? Are they even in love or still together?”
That breaks the damn, his giggle slips through his lips. “I’m not supposed to laugh, but I can’t help it.”
“Are they married?”
“I wish,” Jungkook sips his coffee, casually raising his eyebrow as he answers.
“Do the other members have partners too? If Jimin and Taehyung are taken I’m going to fucking lose my mind,”
“These are at least, fun,”
“This one, okay, prepare yourself,” You take a sip of your coffee before speaking. “We now know the person getting dicked down by Jungkook. Here’s the question, is he godly or just amazing?”
You burst into laughter, sides aching as Jungkook’s doe eyes expand, his throat choking on his own coffee.
“What?” He asks.
“Oh, there are more,”
“You can’t be-
“YOU GUYS – This is who Jungkook has been writing about?”
“Yes,”
“Imagine watching Jungkook perform My Time and then getting to fuck him in his leather – what a lucky bitch,”
“No,” He shakes his head, smile crinkling his eyes as he giggles.
“My favorite: Is she why the hip thrusting has drastically decreased”
“I hate fans,”
“I LOVE them, can I post answering their questions? Do a reddit AMA?”
“No,” Jungkook shakes his head violently, “Absolutely not.”
“Please, ARMY just wants to know if you’re well-endowed and if you know how to use it,” You answer back, finally closing the computer and turning to him. You scoot closer, knee bumping against his thigh and stare at him, smirking.
“What are you going to tell them?” He asks.
“Well, I can’t decide if I want to be honest, or play into their fantasies,” You wind your hand through his locks, twisting and fondling each strand between your fingers.
“Are their fantasies not reality?”
“There’s a difference, between Jungkook as a sexual object and Jungkook as my lover who makes love to me and with me,” You explain, ministrations slowing as he closes his eyes, head leaning into your touch.
“Mm, I prefer the latter,” He tells you.
“I’d either say, better than your wildest fantasies, or, words can’t begin to cover the euphoria,” You giggle, unable to hold back from the joke. His eyes shoot open only to glare at you.
“Don’t drag my songs into this,” He begs.
Kissing his cheek, you trail a line to his ear, “But isn’t it?”
“I think you already know how I feel about this,” He answers, turning to kiss you, the coffee on his lips lingering on yours.
“But do the fans?” You ask.
“They don’t need to. Only you need to know,”
You pick up your donut, munching on it, unwilling to succumb to the lustful gaze he’s bestowed upon you. It’s tempting, that goes without saying, but your Apple Fritter is just too good. Sex on your birthday good. Jungkook between your thighs after the MAMA awards, good.
“You can tell me what you want, you know,” You smirk, tongue sweeping over your lips, slowly to catch all the glaze and cinnamon.
“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood,” Jungkook answers. It’s true, you weren’t until you read those thirst tweets and comments on his statement. It was always enticing, reading the desires the world has towards your boyfriend, knowing you are the only one experiencing him in full. If you were both captives to the media and ARMY, at least you could be captivated by your nakedness.
“I wasn’t,” You shrug, phone alerting you to another message. This time, it’s not funny, or sexual. It’s creepy and demeaning. You don’t read it aloud, instead, you close your eyes.
“Jungkook?” You whisper.
“Hm?” He’s watching your demeanor change in real time, your eyes pinching shut, the wobble of your lip.
“What if it gets out?”
“Which thing?” He wonders.
“Therapy, the fight, Namjoon,” You clarify.
“I don’t know,”
“Do you think it will?” You ask.
“Yes,”
“I don’t know if I can, if I can,” You don’t get a chance to finish your thought because Jungkook’s phone rings again. It’s Bang and Sejin ready to talk next steps and concert logistics. Sensing the scope of the topic, you grab his computer and notebook from the desk in your bedroom and bring them to him. Smiling gratefully, he sets the phone down only to put it on speaker. Shuffling to your room, you take out your phone and call your best friend.
“I’m not going to say that I’m freaking out, but I am. How are you holding up? What do you need? Do you need me on a flight today? I can be there in a few hours,” Allison rattles off, breathing hastily as she continues to pepper you with questions.
“I’m falling apart,” The crack in your voice is loud, shattering, rivaling your ceilings.
“Do you just want me to listen?” She offers.
“I just, I don’t know what to do other than cry. All I want to do is cry but I know I’m going to have to like, be strong for him. And what if paparazzi start following me? What am I supposed to do then? And are they going to find my family? Is my family safe? Who is protecting me? I feel like, I feel like,” You halt, if anyone in the world would understand the next phrase, it’s going to be her. Chocolate skin and crinkle curls, she’s been your lifeline since college when a fluke put you in the same class while studying abroad.
“Say it,” She encourages.
“I feel like, who the fuck is praying for me?” Your hand flies to your mouth, covering the gasp of air that you inhale.
“I am,” Allison answers.
“I know this is about Jungkook, and his legacy and his work… But I just,” You pause, “I’m scared, you know? Is my life going to completely change now? We’ve been together for over three years, and now, now is when the world finds out? We didn’t even, we didn’t even celebrate because he was on tour. Is my entire future with him going to disappear because ARMY knows? And fuck them for coming after me, which they will and will continue to do as long as I’m with him.”
“Breathe,”
“I just, not to quote Kendrick again but I just feel like, motherfuckers I don’t even like you! You fetishize my boyfriend and his friends, you demean him, you sexualize him past the point of acceptable lusting, you exploit his talent and abilities… and when he’s done spinning like a fucking ballerina in a jewelry box, you get mad that he hasn’t put out more content! He’s spent a decade being filmed, a decade being watched and abused, and you want more?”
“Keep going,”
“I just, I’m just, I don’t want them to take him from me. And I don’t want to sacrifice what I have because I’ve worked so fucking hard to get to this point. He has worked so hard, and because of racism he’s going to be taken from me? Because I’m not ideal I’m going to lose the love of my life?”
“What do you mean taken from you? Is he drinking again?” Allison rushes.
“No, I mean, moderately, but that’s not it. I just, I don’t want to be Meghan Markle. Fuck Meghan Markle.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. She’s been through enough,”
“Just because you made your career on her doesn’t mean I as a biracial woman can’t hate her,”
“Fair, but if it’s any consolation, Bangtan is bigger than the royal family,”
“I just, they’ve already had their clandestine meetings about me and Jungkook. We have documentation stating that Big Hit and Hybe won’t fuck with our relationship. But that doesn’t mean the fans won’t, you know? They just, they love him so much but they don’t know Jungkook, the man. Jungkook, the nearly six feet of muscle who calls his parents every night before bed, and only misses if he’s on stage in which case he calls before! Jungkook, who counts down the months until our next anniversary so we can celebrate. Jungkook, who, he looks at you?” The tears begin to form again, the lump in your throat snowballing once more. “And they don’t fucking care what I do or who I am, I’m not good enough. I will never be good enough. It’s not going to matter if we get married, or if we have kids. It doesn’t matter that Bangtan loves me and that Taehyung and Jimin and Hobi are my best friends outside of you and Josh, it doesn’t matter. He’s the Golden Maknae and I’m just… the pauper.”
“You’re not a pauper first of all. And second of all, they won’t come for you. You are protected by walls of money and security and yes, fame. Will paparazzi want to follow you for the first few weeks? Sure, you might have to move. But you’re not being disowned. JK is rarely in tabloids, his whereabouts are so tight lipped, it’s impossible to know when he’s showing up or where in the world he is,”
“A real Carmen Sandiego,” You interrupt.
“Exactly. You have protection, you have safety. The first few months are going to be the worst, I suggest blocking notifications and unfollowing any outlet that might post about you. That’s the simplest way to ease your mind, other than making sure you can see your therapist regularly for the next few months. You should get on that ASAP,” Allison rattles off.
“I’m scared of what they’ll say,” You confide.
“To you?” Allison asks.
“To me,”
Sighing, she offers you the same advice the lawyers did. “You can’t look, you can’t seek it out, at all, ever.”
“What if it just, pops up?” You wonder. The reality of you, yourself, showing up in your feed is as horrifying as pop up porn descending on your PC in the early 2000s. Jarring, horrifying, traumatizing.
“That’s different than you googling yourself,” Allison clarifies.
“I can’t google myself?” You ask.
“Not anymore,”
“Instagram?”
“What did I just tell you?” She laughs. Your stubbornness always brought out either pure frustration or genuine delight.
“I’ll unfollow,” You sigh.
“Also – not to miss it, but marriage?” Allison nearly yells.
“We talked about it,” You respond.
“What?”
“Yeah, I was just, I brought it up,” Your attempt at indistinct mumbling isn’t as successful as you hoped.
“Of course you did,” If you could see her, you’d be rolling your eyes at her, who in exchange would roll hers, purely to make the point that your behavior is utterly ridiculous.
“We just talked about it, if we want to marry each other,” You mumble again.
“And?”
“And?” You mock.
“The answer?”
“Oh you know,” You shrug, the uptick in your breath an audible signal.
“No, I need to hear you say it,” Allison presses.
“I hate you,” You snap.
“Say it,” She cheers.
“He wants to marry me someday so that’s it and I don’t want to talk about I again,” You spill. It takes Allison ten seconds before she can speak again.
“I cannot wait for this wedding,”
“Are we done?” You beg. “Please?”
“Is that also what’s motivating these fears? Now that you know where your relationship is going, in a more concrete way than you have before, is that what’s pushing you? The fear that it could disappear?” Ah, the 1-2 punch, her specialty. The origins of your friendship have always been honesty, and obsession. Long before you met Jungkook, you had bonded over your love of Bangtan. You hated to admit it to any of BTS, but they tethered you to so much, before they were in your life, being the anchors themselves.
“Yes,” You respond.
“Just, for the sake of the argument, how long have you known?”
“Known what?” You know what she’s talking about.
“That you wanted to be Mrs. Jeon Jungkook?”
“I fucking hate you,” Your exasperation lends itself to falling backwards onto your bed, scooting until you’re in the middle of it, head squished between two stacks of pillows.
“Just answer,”
“A while,” You grumble.
“How long?”
“Ugh! Fine, two and a half years,” You answer.
“Yesssssss!”
“But I always looked at it like, all hope, no expectations,”
“Now there’s expectations,” Allison connects the dots.
“That could go away if ARMY hates me or wishes me dead,” You say.
“They wouldn’t,” She’s appalled by the idea.
“Have you looked at Twitter? They already do,”
“You need to call your therapist,” Allison instructs.
“I know,” You resign.
“Does Jungkook know?”
“No, well, I’m sure Bang and Sejin are filling him in. I guarantee we’ll be back at the lawyers soon to discuss whatever hell this guy is prepared to put us through,” You tell her.
“There weren’t seven levels for nothing,”
Laughing, you reply, “I always thought it was one for each BTS member,”
“Each level is more difficult than the last,”
“Absolutely,”
“If one was the easiest and seven the most challenging, what would your order be?” She asks curiously.
“I can’t rank them, not after our first two years together,” You remind her. “It would be impossible.”
“That’s true, very true,”
“What would yours be?” You ask.
“Based on what I know now, I’d say easiest would be Hoseok, then Seokjin, Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jimin,”
“I see what you did there. Jungkook will agree with Seokjin, Tae will follow Yoongi, and Namjoon and Jimin have too much to lose,” You infer.
“Exactly,” Allison replies.
Sighing, you decide it’s time to check on Jungkook, “I should go.”
“Are you feeling any better?” She asks.
“Yeah, a little,” Your answer is honest, you are feeling better.
“Good, now either go talk to your boyfriend or schedule a therapy appointment. Oh, and unfollow, pronto,”
“I will, I will, love you,” You tell her.
“Love you too, bye!” Allison hangs up, leaving you sitting on your bed, eyes staring up at the cracks in your ceiling. You’d noticed them immediately, wondering why no one had gotten a ladder and fixed it. You’d asked the landlord when you moved in, but they weren’t particularly helpful in sorting out the peeling paint. It didn’t bother you much, and it was kind of fun charting a course over the lines and collecting pieces that fell, like snow, daintily onto the carpet.
The door opens softly, and wordlessly Jungkook pads in only to sit at your side.
“Hey,” He says, hand moving a few pieces of hair off your face. His fingertips dance gently across your skin.
“Hi,”
“You okay?” Jungkook questions.
“I don’t know,” You lower your gaze to his, noting the furrow of his brow. “Are you?”
“I don’t know,” He shrugs.
“What did management say?”
“To lie low, and go into the concert like nothing’s happened,”
“Easier said than done,” You grouse.
“I don’t know what to expect,”
“How so?”
Jungkook’s hand has moved from your face to your hand, playing with each finger as he speaks.
“ARMY, will they cheer? Will they boo? Will they decide to hate me and not show up?” He wonders.
“Jungkook, that’s,” You lament, “Those are all valid concerns.”
“I wish, I wish I could fix everything,”
“Yeah, but you can’t,” You stop giving into his frustration, it will get you know where. “What do you want to do before you have to report to the stadium?”
“Can we take a bath?” He asks, blush rising across his cheeks.
“Ugh,” You moan. “That’s such a good idea. Do you want to pick the playlist?”
“Sure,” Jungkook leans over you, thighs on either side of yours, face hovering as his eyes move from yours to your lips. He moves his lips from your left cheek to your forehead, gentle kisses peppered across your face before they find purchase on yours. Slow and tempting, romantic and languid, Jungkook pours himself into you. His lips are gentle, supple and soft as they move with yours, pulling your plump bottom lip between his teeth, gently pulling before dragging his tongue across the flesh. Your hands dip under his shirt, hands against his warm skin, pulling him closer and closer until he’s flush against you.
“I love you,” You tell him, eyes searching his as your chests heave, gasping for air before your lips find the flesh of his neck and jaw, sloppily placing kisses against him.
“I love you so much,” He responds. “I thought we were going to take a bath?”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s do that. Do you need a cold shower first?” You suggest.
“I can control myself, thank you,” Jungkook rolls his eyes before moving off of you. He stands and runs a hand through his hair.
“Fine, but I might need one,” You answer standing up. Jungkook glances at you before engulfing you in his arms.
“Thank you,” He whispers, cheek resting against your hair.
“For?”
“Loving every version of me,” Jungkook answers.
“Then I guess I should be thanking you too,” You offer.
“Why?”
“The same reasons,” You tell him, squirreling out of his arms to walk into the bathroom.
Jungkook’s wide eyes watch you as you pull the curtain back and turn the tap all the way to hot. He watches as you move to grab the Epsom salt and your small box of bath bombs, knowing full well you’ll pick his favorite without being asked. He watches the care you take to make sure the water is hot, not scalding, to dim the lights and turn the speaker on, to delicately take off your clothing, placing the garments in the hamper and settling your jewelry in your dainty golden dish, all before sliding in, waiting patiently for him to join you.
Jungkook doesn’t know if you’ve realized the care you’ve taken with such a simple act, running a bath, or if you’ve noticed that it’s the same care you take in your relationship, to him and with him, or in your friendships with others. It’s the same care that he’s fallen in love with, time and time again. And it’s the same care he’s hoping ARMY sees and though they might try, he’s praying they won’t distinguish.
Next: Burn the Disco Down Pt 1
