Synopsis: You’ve just been laid off, and all you want to do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget. Unfortunately, the neighborhood block party is tonight, and the festivities turn downright chaotic when the entire city loses power. Don’t fret, though. Jungkook will help take your mind off things for a while.
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Strangers to lovers, FLUFF with a capital FLUFF, Yugyeom makes an appearance, humor, comfort, smut (starts out with sweet, vanilla sex and masturbation, turns into biting, hickeys, fingering, oral sex [female receiving, male receiving], edging, protected vaginal sex, playful spanking, overstimulation, spitting), drinking / drinking games, drug use (weed edibles).
Preview:
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehe looks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
Synopsis: You’ve just been laid off, and all you want to do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget. Unfortunately, the neighborhood block party is tonight, and the festivities turn downright chaotic when the entire city loses power. Don’t fret, though. Jungkook will help take your mind off things for a while.
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Strangers to lovers, FLUFF with a capital FLUFF, Yugyeom makes an appearance, humor, comfort, smut (starts out with sweet, vanilla sex and masturbation, turns into biting, hickeys, fingering, oral sex [female receiving, male receiving], edging, protected vaginal sex, playful spanking, overstimulation, spitting), drinking / drinking games, drug use (weed edibles).
Preview:
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehe looks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
What makes a good manager? Empathy? Organization? Know-how? Whatever mix of qualities, are they innate, or does it come from steadily and patiently rising through the ranks with your allies? Are good leaders born or made?
You don’t think you’ll ever be sure of what makes a good manager. But what you are definitely sure about is what makes a badmanager.
Bad managers are the type of people who, when given a choice, elect to have you come in for your office job all week for your usual 8 to 5, and wait until Friday afternoon to inform you that you have been let go, even though they got the call from leadership on Monday morning.
You grumble as you shift your cardboard box of belongings to your other arm in order to make the last leg of your journey, every single one of your pores emptying twenty-fold their volume into the fibers of your polyester blend. Couldn’t you have been sacked in the fall? On top of having an additional couple of months to figure your shit out, you wouldn’t be drenched.
It’s 7 by the time you’re stomping around the corner to your block. There’s a family-sized bag of pita chips, a pail of hummus, and an edible patiently waiting for you.
If only there weren’t so many people blocking the way to your door.
Crumpled ghosts of flyers float past you. Their sans-serif font and centered alignment. The drawing of an old-school boombox with music spilling out of it. The date. The goddamned time.
“Fuck,” you sigh, unable to hear even yourself under millennial R&B samples carrying Gen Z slang.
Shoulders slumping, you try to trudge through the crowd that doesn’t part, draining energy quickly by the time you make your sixth and seventh attempt, even using the sharp corners of your box to try to snowplow your way through the increasingly drunken bodies that won’t feel any pain until the morning.
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehelooks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
“You dropped something.”
The Hulk bobblehead, given to you in celebration of getting this job in the first place, proves to be more lasting than your presence in the office.
When you see it in a puddle by your feet, your heart sinks a little.
And, ever-so-slightly, so does the box in your grip, as you jostle around to allow yourself to reach down and pick it up.
Before you can, though, bent fingers have let go of the drawstring and curl around The Hulk’s head instead. Green abs and purple shorts wiggle from its spring, despite what seems to be The Hulk’s unrelenting protest.
You look up at the owner of those bent fingers, form crouched in front of you, still only able to perceive him in parts. Four wrinkles at the bridge of his nose. An amused smirk.
“Ha ha!”
He studies The Hulk’s face, and his right brow falls into a slanted line in perfect mimicry.
“Raaawwrrr!”
The Hulk’s body wiggles violently as bent fingers shake him back and forth.
“HULK SMAAAASH!”
You don’t mean to smile.
His smile is about to meet you too, but his eyes start to take up more space, widening at the sight of slightly shiny lines on your cheeks, carving your skin out like flowing rivers cutting through sienna rock.
“Hey! It’s OK!”
A sleeve rises into view. It moves in quick, small motions, back and forth.
“Just gotta c-clean him up a little here and—”
The Hulk suddenly grows ten times in size, now dangling on its spring, right in front of your face.
“See?? N-no harm done!!”
You sniffle.
Bent fingers gently set The Hulk back into the box, in a gap between your empty, gray mesh pen cup and your prized, powder blue stapler.
You sniffle again.
You love stapling.
So final, so sure, that satisfying, crisp metal crunch!
You think you hear that crunch as this stranger’s bright eyes are putting it all together.
As are you, bits and pieces of this stranger now stitching together into a concerned but welcoming face, much too kind, and dangerously easy to open up to. Especially for someone in your state.
Your fingers dig into your cardboard box.
“Thanks,” you say, relieved that your voice sounds so steady.
He lifts his eyes from the powder blue stapler and watches as you lift your upper arm to your right cheek.
You dab your tears.
You frown at the sight of black streaks on your blouse.
And then you startle at the feel of denim against your left cheek.
You watch as this stranger takes a step back.
The fact that he doesn’t seem to notice or care about the black streaks on hissleeve makes you care less about the black streaks on yours.
You feel a little lighter. From what it looks like, about three wisps of Pat McGrath FetishEyes lighter.
“Sorry,” he says, “I just—”
“No, that was… that was nice of you,” you say, starting to become impressed at just how steady your voice is. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Can I help you with anything else?” He holds his hands out a little, wrists coming out of his sleeves. “Take that box for you?”
“I’m good,” you say.
He’s kind for softening his doubtful look, but his head tilt gives his thoughts away.
“Really,” you insist.
And you insist to yourself that you really don’t mean to smile. You’re surprised that you do.
He mirrors it, his eyes following his lips, which follow yours, copying perfectly the slightly sad pout that you’re too aware that you’re making, and that tells him that his head tilt is absolutely warranted.
“If you say so.”
Your smile fades a little as you look back down to the box, still in your grip, resting against your stomach.
You look back up and watch as he curiously peruses the box’s content.
“Whatis all this stuff?” he asks.
You look back over at the crowd now spilling out of your apartment building.
“Um…”
Your brain is moving too fast, keeping you from being able to expand on the complexity of the matter. The words settling in the back of your throat are reduced to grade school-level syntax that matches the grade school-level emotions that you’re trying to hold at bay.
This is all Desk Stuff.
Desk Stuff belongs on a Desk.
But you no longer have a Desk.
You no longer even have an Office.
Or a Job.
And all you seem to be able to do about it, at least, for right now, is cry.
“Just… stuff.”
How is your voice still so steady when your stomach and chest are churning and burning, flip-flopping positions in your body in an attempt to escape this disaster?
To escape you?
He seems to realize now. There’s even a hint of — ugh — pity in his eyes.
You want to explain that you’re stronger than this. It’s just that your Job, and your Office, and your Desk were so rare. Beautifully, wonderfully, hilariously rare. Just like your powder blue stapler is rare, and it’s even rarer to see it not at the ready under a mix of sunlight and fluorescent lighting but settled against hastily packed bits and bobs in a box open to the night air.
“You need to keep any of it?” he asks.
The realization feels weirdly cold in your chest. “No,” you say.
“Youwantto keep any of it?”
You shrug.
His head straightens suddenly.
“Not even The Hulk??”
He looks so excited.
You really, really don’t mean to smile. You’re surprised that you do. That you still can.
You even chuckle, softly, three tiny stops and starts of that steady, warm voice.
“Why?You want him?”
“Well, y-yeah — he’s The Hulk!!”
You hold the box out and up to him.
“Take him, then. Give him a nice home.”
Bent fingers wrap around The Hulk’s head. He lifts The Hulk out of the box and places it into the left chest pocket of his denim jacket, patting it caringly, for safekeeping.
The Hulk’s eyes peek out at you over the lip.
“Nowyou pick something,” he tells you.
You look up from The Hulk’s eyes and stare questioningly into the eyes of this alarmingly kind stranger.
“You wanna keep at least one thing, right?” he asks. He peeks back down into the box. “Anything important? Or, just, y’know.” He looks back at you. “Special?”
You think again of the satisfying crunch of metal.
And then you smile down at your powder blue stapler.
You hug the box against your chest with one arm and pull the stapler out with your free hand.
He smiles again, and claps his hands with glee.
The Hulk nods.
And, as you nod back, you catch a glimpse of the alleyway.
Your gaze settles on the too-bright blue paint sadly used for something as putrid as a dumpster.
Your feet take you there, and they, along with your calves, and thighs, and arms, and shoulders, and back, thank you immensely as you toss all the rest inside.
That box looks so small now, amongst everything else. The longer you stare at it, you can’t even really see it anymore, as it gets lost in so many things that also don’t matter.
With your arms free, you get the impulse to pull your phone from your back pocket. But you don’t want to see the flurry of messages that are probably waiting for you.
Instead, you turn and walk back to the curb, where he is still standing and watching you.
Your feet take you back to him, arm at your side, the stapler fold hanging off your finger, its handle and base taking turns swinging as you walk, powder blue grazing the side of your polyester-covered thigh.
You stand in front of him, feeling so much lighter.
“Uh, thanks,” you say. “Again.”
He smiles.
Now that the weight is off of your shoulders, you can take in more. The sound of street traffic buzzing around you. Honks, and music, and chatter.
The crowd around your apartment building has doubled if not tripled in size.
“Live here?” he asks.
You nod, and your shoulders sink. “But the block party completely slipped my mind.” You sigh and wonder how long it will take for the crowd to dissipate. “All I wanna do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget today ever happened.”
“What’s stopping you?” he asks.
You furrow your brow and gesture to the drunken, obnoxious mass blocking your way in.
“Just gotta fight your way through a little, is all,” he says. “C’mon!”
Instead of complaining about having to do anything other than what you want to, you figure that following this guy, with his broad frame, tall stature, and friendly face, will help you work smart and not hard.
So you follow him.
He moves through the crowd with ease, swimming with the current, instead of fighting his way upstream.
He offers you protection from the worst hits. Errant slaps and elbows here and there as people reach for each other. A near-collision with a keg stand.
But people still cut in front of you. By the fourth or fifth instance, you wonder why this always happens when you’re in a crowd, or whether you can consider it a “cut” when you don’t even seem to register on people’s radar.
You watch as his head bobs along, nearly out of sight. And then, when he’s too far away, you start to feel the tide turning again, pulling you back out into the vast ocean.
You’re nearly all the way back by the lobby doors when his face pops out of the crowd.
“Hey!” he exclaims.
He throws his arm out, hand open, palm upturned. A life saver on a rope thick, straight, and strong.
You grab it.
You watch as his hand turns over and determinedly pulls you into him.
And you lock eyes briefly before he swirls you around and puts you in front of the crowd, daring you to meet it face-to-face.
He stands behind you but places his hands firmly on your shoulders.
You grip the stapler tight in your hand.
And then, with his guidance, you start to move through the crowd.
Part the crowd.
It’s much easier than you thought. But you knew that. You used to do this all the time, without even thinking. Shoulders back. Hair tossed just so. Beaming with all the wise, unthreatened confidence that years of a magical mix of expertise and bullshit have bestowed upon you.
They, and he, bring you right next to the elevators, and, thinking this is it, you go to punch the button.
But he steers you toward the stairs instead.
He leans down into you, pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your right ear.
“Let’s go this way.”
The music and chatter is so loud that even though you feel his chest straining, it sounds like a whisper.
You think about what’s waiting for you at home.
The chips. The hummus. The last three squares of your weed-infused chocolates. All designed to help you settle your mind and forget about this whole, wretched day.
Then again, maybe there are other ways to forget.
You shove your powder stapler into your pocket and nod, but it doesn’t matter. He’s already angling you toward the stairs, and chases your steps as you both climb.
You feel his hands slide down your shoulders, then arms, then into the crooks of your slightly folded elbows, your right hand still touting your stapler, your left hand not fully grasping but angled to feel along the railing so that you have something to hold onto if you trip over one of these people sitting on the steps.
He’s right by your side. Grabs hold of you to help keep you steady when someone suddenly moves to get up. When he lets you go at the top of the stairs, you’re almost sad the building has elevators at all.
“You know the Chans?” he asks.
You register the smell of egg rolls and dumplings and fries and cheese and sugar before you notice that the people who happen to be on this floor are too busy stuffing their faces to really talk. It’s quieter here. Thankfully.
“No,” you mumble, as he walks next to you, moving in lockstep down the hall and slightly to the right. “I don’t really know anybody else in the building.”
“Just moved in?”
“Been here three… wait… four?” You grimace. “Years?”
His eyebrows rise at the speed with which his own mother would race a cake over to every new neighbor on their street.
“I’ll introduce you!” he says, swinging around you and standing perpendicular to your path to let you know that this next, slightly ajar door will lead you to The Chans.
He knocks on the door.
It opens, suddenly, and fully, and a woman grins happily at the both of you before settling into his warm, eager gaze.
“Jungkook-ah,” she chides playfully, “I told you to come as soon as the party started! We’re already almost out of—”
He — or, well, Jungkook, apparently — rushes inside the apartment toward the kitchen, leaving you standing there in the hallway.
The woman turns to you, still carrying fondness in her eyes. “Hi!”
“Hi,” you say, as pleasantly as you can.
The woman takes in the sight of you, though she frowns when she looks down by your hip.
“Is… that… a stapler in your pocket?”
Your brain starts to move too fast again.
Desk. Office. Job.
But then she giggles.
“Or are you just happy to see me?”
Jungkook mumbles something resembling an introduction after you follow “Miff-iff Cham” through the busy, glowing living room and into the kitchen.
“Did you even think to get your friend a drink??” Mrs. Chan asks, reaching not for the plenty of plastic flatware but into the cupboards for a porcelain bowl.
Jungkook mumbles something else, a chomped egg roll raised to his lips, cheeks bulging out, and a bit of fried wrapper sticking out of the corner of his mouth.
“This boy,” Mrs. Chan laughs, shaking her head. “He devours everything in sight!” As she talks, she walks down the line of her counter, scooping up a bit of everything from her various pots and pans and plopping it into your bowl. “If we didn’t feed him real food, he’d eat garbage off the street! Like one of those fat pigeons!”
Jungkook protests, still unintelligible, but wounded, and passionate, given that flakes of egg roll wrapper fly out of his mouth.
“Please, Jungkook, you’re so sensitive! Have you seen you?” Mrs. Chan says with a roll of her eyes. “Although, if you keep inhaling these egg rolls…”
She softens at Jungkook’s worried expression.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you fat. I just meant— Ugh, what else eats tra— Like a raccoon, then. How’s that, huh? Jungkook-ah? My little fluffy, sneaky, grabby-hands raccoon?”
Mrs. Chan shoves the now-full bowl into your open hands and makes grabby-hands with her own, pinching his full cheeks, cooing more… weird?… but sweet, raccoon-based compliments at him, which makes him smile happily, and close his eyes at her caring touch.
You bring the bowl up to your face and breathe in the mouth-watering scent of all of this delicious, home-cooked, made-with-love morsels of amazing food.
Foroncetoday, someone has served you a pile of nothing but goodness.
You smile gratefully and take the chopsticks that Mrs. Chan gives to you. And then you take your place next to Jungkook, backs to the sink, both of you leaning back slightly as you eat.
“Now, I didn’t catch your name,” Mrs. Chan tells you, stirring a spoon into one of the pots.
As you finally say it, you can’t help but feel Jungkook paying you close attention — such close attention, mind you, that you swear he’s nearly pressing his smile onto your cheek.
“I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself,” you go on, flashing a look at Jungkook before adding, “I’ve just been so busy…”
Desk. Office. Job.
The rest of the sentence that you were goingto say travels down your throat like the unchewed walnut that slipped by.
You cough. Clear your throat the best you can. And pick up what you can recover.
“…atwork.”
“Ah, well, whatever! I’m happy we get to meet now,” Mrs. Chan says lightly.
The air with which she says it. So ethereal. It makes you feel a little better.
“I’m Chan Jia,” she goes on, “and my husband Feng and I have lived here pretty much all our lives, and, uh, we really like to cook! Even when half the city isn’ton our doorstep.”
Your eyes hang wide. “You’re amazing at it,” you say, through cheeks fuller than Jungkook’s. “The walnut chicken in particular is, mmm, god, so good.”
Mrs. Chan beams with pride. “Glad you like it! And that you came so hungry.”
More people spill into the Chans’ living room, and Mrs. Chan reaches for some of the paper plates and plastic flatware.
“Get her something to drink, Jungkook-ah!”
He nods obediently and yells out an earnest, “Thank you!”
You scarf down the last bite in your bowl and start to calculate what seconds you want — definitely the walnut chicken, and maybe the lo mein — when Jungkook sticks a fresh egg roll in your face.
“C’mon!”
He stuffs the egg roll into your mouth and takes your empty bowl from your hands, setting it in the filling kitchen sink.
He takes your right wrist and tugs on it, leading you back out to the hall.
You bite down on the egg roll and catch the other half in your left hand, grumbling, “I wasn’t done!” as you desperately try to chew and get the delicious pork filling and perfect golden crackles down your gullet.
“Oh, sorry,” Jungkook says. “Seemed like you were.”
“Well!” You raise your left hand and bite into the second half. “I wasn’t!”
“Well, your bowl was empty, and you emptied it kinda fast, like, shockinglyfast, so I thought it was time for dessert—”
You polish off the egg roll as your feet plant themselves in place. “What is this? Who even areyou anyway??”
He smiles. “I’m Jungkook!”
“Yeah, caught that,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Seriously, though! I don’t really know who you—”
Someone splits the two of you, excited to bring one of two waffle ice cream cones to someone downstairs.
“—w-who you are, or if you even live here,” you continue, watching as they round the corner, jogging down the steps with what looks like pistachio ice cream in one hand and some kind of chocolate in the other.
You turn back to Jungkook.
“And all these people? I don’t know who theyare, and I just really—”
“But now you know Mrs. Chan,” Jungkook says, “and I guess by extension you kinda know Mr. Chan. There was a photo of him on the left wall by the—”
A group of young girls giggle as they exit one of the other apartments on this floor, each of them carrying baskets of freshly baked cookies.
Jungkook playfully yoink!s a couple from the last girl’s basket, and she teasingly slaps Jungkook’s arm as he feigns pain.
They laugh at each other, and then, he wiggles his eyebrows and nods upward.
“Oppa!” she whines.
He brings his shoulders up to his earlobes and wiggles his eyebrows even harder.
She rolls her eyes and hands him two more cookies, and she scurries to rejoin her group.
You glare at him.
He blinks at you. Pushes out his lips.
“So…”
He holds out his arm.
“Is it time for dessert?”
You frown.
He wiggles the cookie around.
“Huuuuuh?”
Begrudgingly, you snatch the cookie that he’s offering.
Chocolate chip with toffee chunks and gooey caramel in the center.
It’s goddamn incredible.
“Iseveryoneon this floor a chef?!” you exclaim in surprise, crumbs flinging from your lips.
Jungkook looks up at the ceiling again as he counts. His unfolding pinky denotes The Chans in 2A, duh. His ring finger counts the Jeups and their three lovely daughters in 2D. His middle finger stands for the Gal brothers and their new ice cream machine, or, well, oldice cream machine, since their shop got the new one—
“Kinda, actually,” Jungkook answers, looking back at you, still counting the others in his head while holding the three other cookies between his thumb and index finger. “Although I guess the Jeups and the Gals are more… bakers? But I don’t think you say that for ice cream.”
He plumps his bottom lip, chin wrinkling.
“What do you call someone who makes ice cream for a living?”
You roll your eyes as you polish off your cookie.
“Hey, I thought we were doing it?” he asks. “Shoot. Maybe I’m doing it wrong?”
“Doingwhat?”
“What you wanted to do.”
Toffee and chocolate are swirling together heavenly in your mouth, but you keep glaring at him. You layer more fire into it. Frown harder. Scowl meaner. If you look angry enough, maybe he’ll give you a second cookie out of fear, and you don’t have to admit how boggled you are.
“You said that all you wanted to do was eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget,” Jungkook recalls. “So we’re taking care of the eating part.”
You pull back a little on the glare.
“I would’ve appreciated getting to eat more of that walnut chicken.”
Jungkook’s eyes and grin thin out.
“We can go back. Or…?”
He holds out another cookie to you.
Which you slowly take.
And in return, you let go of the glower.
You turn the cookie over in your hands. Raise it to your lips.
Jungkook nods encouragingly.
You take a bite.
Peanut butter. With little chocolate candies. That are also filled with peanut butter.
Your pesky smile makes another reappearance.
“Now,” Jungkook says triumphantly, biting into two cookies at once and recalling, “Mrs. Chan said,” as he gets those cookies down to half-size with his huge bites, “god this is fucking good,” smacking as he talks, “to get you a drink. So c’mon!”
He holds out his hand again. Devoid of any cookies.
You take it anyway.
And he leads you to the elevator.
“Can I get a copy of the itinerary?” you ask, puzzled by all your traipsing.
Jungkook drums on the elevator doors with his knuckles before giving the right one a slap and pushing the call button. “It’s just block party physics,” he explains. “You saw all those kegs and coolers when you came in, right?”
You nod.
“Gotta keep beer on the ground floor. Nice way to say hi to people. And nobody wants to lug all that shit up all these floors. But people are doing stuff in their apartments, too. More drinks, and food, and games.”
You take a second to take Jungkook in from toe to head. White, worn sneakers, with blue details. Baggy pants. Thin, white hoodie. Denim jacket. Fluffed hair, crinkled and thin eyes, wrinkled nose, and an easy, big smile. Like he’s just hanging out at home.
“Party physics,” you repeat.
The elevator doors open, and you both step in, Jungkook leaning against the railing in the back, and you facing him with a smirk.
“Of which you just happen to be a scholar?”
Jungkook grins. “That, and, uh…”
He gestures to one of the flyers on the elevator bulletin board behind you. It’s not as crumpled as the ones that blew by you earlier. But it is drooping, the tape holding up its top two corners having lost its stickiness over the past few weeks.
You smooth the paper out.
And then you reach into your pocket.
For your powder blue stapler.
You staple each corner into the cork, and you see what Jungkook is talking about. Below the boombox drawing and general details is a whole spreadsheet of details. A murder mystery party on floor twelve. A dance party on floor seven. Karaoke on floor six. Movies on floor eight.
Nothing on floor nine. You’re one of just a few people who live there. That floor doesn’t get great light, or a great view, facing the north, ignored side of the block. But that doesn’t matter to you. You like it quiet. That’s why you’re all there.
For some reason, you feel a little sick at the thought of riding up to floor nine.
So you’re grateful that you stop, for now, on floor five.
It boasts a crowd just a tad smaller than the one on the first floor, but the energy seems easier. Lively, but less brash.
When Jungkook sees your relieved smile, he takes it as a sign that he’s doing somethingright.
“Where should we start?” he asks, looking around at all the open doors. As you re-holster your stapler, his head darts left and right, checking your reaction with each option he presents.
“Board games! Ooh, OK, ‘ya seem to like that. We’ll put that on the list. We could also check out that poker game, which we passed back there. And there’s—”
You pull Jungkook’s arm toward you with such force that his nose bumps into your cheek. You laugh together, your eyes shining a bit brighter.
“That.”
You point.
“I wanna do that.”
Given your professional, cool-toned business separates; your seemingly strategic nature; your, quite frankly, super uptight vibe; and the way your eyes initially widened at the proposal to join the board game room, Jungkook wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who had even a passing interest in drinking games. Especiallyflip cup.
Yet, here you are, standing on top of Kim Yugyeom’s mother’s old kitchen table, the front of your blouse stained with sangria, and both of your hands victoriously pumping two empty, crushed plastic cups into the air.
Funny how the thing that always kept you from playing flip cup was the beer.
And you were extraordinary. How you downed each drink. How, like your voice has been so far this evening, you were able to stay so composed. How that gave you such an advantage with each flip. How everyone in the room cheered you on, shocked by how you hadn’t stuttered on a single cup. How Jungkook almost caught up, but you were able to rally and down two more full cups of sangria than you probably should have.
“Howwwww have I not plaaaaayedthisgaaaaame before?!” you ask, delirious from your winner’s rush. And maybe the sangria.
“You haven’t?!” a laughing Yugyeom adds, as he helps you down from his table. “Would’ve thought you were a pro!”
A little unsteady on your feet, and happily so, you lean into him, melting at his strong form and touch before pouring into one of the chairs nearby.
“Alright there, champ?” Yugyeom chuckles.
He watches you wiggle happily in your seat, one strong wiggle forcing you to lean a bit too much to the right.
“Haha, fuck, let me get you some damn water!”
Jungkook lands in the chair next to you, propping you up and giggling at your blissful humming.
Your eyes meet his. “Oh, what’s this?” You raise your left hand up. “Hmm?” Your palm grazes the tip of his nose, and your eyes widen with excitement, as his widen to try to find out what’s wrong with your hand.
“Oh!” you smile.
Equally thrilled and perplexed, Jungkook moves to give you a high five?
But you dodge him with a grin.
“Uh-oh!”
Your wrist goes slack. Delighted, you do an arm wave, letting it flow through up to your shoulders, through to your trunk, and onwards to your other arm, which flows up and around from your side and around, down your opposite shoulder and through your forearm, fingers gathering to a point and tipping back Jungkook’s open forehead.
Jungkook lets out a spirited laugh that perks up your spine.
As you watch with interest, he furrows his brow and opens his mouth in fake offense. His head bobs forward, and he lets the wave travel throughout his entire body, each muscle isolation smoothing into the next.
He gets up and starts to dance, suddenly going rigid as he starts to pop and lock, hips moving with more precision than you would have anticipated, his baggy clothes suddenly looking sharp, his body halving, and The Hulk slipping out a little, bobbling along with him.
Yugyeom rejoins you, and him, cheering and catching the wave in his chest from Jungkook’s lightning rod of a hand and letting it travel through his black hoodie-covered torso, down to his legs, the frayed rips of his light blue jeans swaying as his muscles take turns relaxing and constricting, traveling back up to his other arm, and down to the hand that is holding two water bottles: one for Jungkook, and one for you.
You giggle and shiver as Yugyeom places the cold plastic against your neck, fingers grazing his as you take over the grip of the bottle.
This is… nice.
“What else can we play??” you ask brightly, letting the bottle linger for a moment before lifting it, and unscrewing the cap. “What other games are there?”
“Should probably slow down on the drinking ones,” Jungkook rightfully decides, as you start to slump again.
He takes a step back to you, and your left cheek rests on his right hip.
Feeling so comfortable, you close your eyes for a moment, missing Yugyeom’s intrigued smirk, and Jungkook’s helpless nose scrunch.
“Leaving so soon?” Yugyeom asks, tossing him the other bottle.
Jungkook looks down and notes your hazy, unfocused eyes, as well as your clumsy fingers still working at the water bottle cap.
“After this water break.”
“Well, swing by again later,” Yugyeom tells you, as your eyes flutter open. “I need to avenge my humiliated friend here. Or get the chance to, at least.”
Jungkook pouts. “Humiliated?”
“Only Jungkook can save himself,” you say, much too haughty for someone who has taken about thirty whole seconds to open a water bottle, “but depending on how tonight goes, I might take you on as another trophy. I mean victim. I mean opponent.”
Yugyeom shakes his head at your self-assuredness, looking over at Jungkook to see if he’s clocking this, and finding he’s only chuckling as you close your eyes and eagerly drink.
“Where’d you find her?” Yugyeom asks, as Jungkook looks back at him.
“Obviously by the dumpsters, given all the trash talk,” Jungkook jokes.
You choke on your water and laugh, the back of your hand rising to your lips as you open your eyes again and catch your breath.
“No, really,” Yugyeom goes on, smiling at you and shoving his hands into his back pockets, chest puffing out with a relaxing breath. “You live on the block?”
You point up at the ceiling. “Ninth floor.”
“Thehermitfloor?” Yugyeom asks, surprised.
You left your left shoulder from Jungkook’s hip and tilt your head toward it. “I crawled out of my cave today. And saw Jungkook on the curb.”
Yugyeom looks over at Jungkook again, who just smiles.
He meets Jungkook’s smile with a pleased chuckle.
“I mean it. Come back later. I still wanna hang.” He narrows his eyes at you and wiggles his eyebrows. “I want a go with the resident flip cup champ.”
You wink at him as you bring the water bottle back to your lips.
Before Yugyeom takes his leave, he reaches out his hand, slightly dampened from the condensation on those ice-cold water bottles, to Jungkook. Their right hands clasp together, and they bring their right shoulders forward to one another, chests bumping together tightly.
Yugyeom slaps Jungkook’s back.
He mumbles something.
Jungkook scoffs with a grin.
And then they part, Yugyeom flashing you another smile before he heads back toward his kitchen table.
Jungkook crouches down and wipes his hand on his thigh. You watch his fingers spreading across. His palm rubbing down toward his knee, and then back up again.
“Oh my god,” he says.
You straighten and snap your eyes to his, feeling caught. “What??”
“I think you’re…”
Jungkook shoots you an open-mouthed, told-you-so smile.
“…havingfun??”
“Absolutely not,” you say, trying your best to sneer.
“You’re smiling!” Jungkook taps his finger on your cheek.
You swat his hand away, giggling and thinking fondly of him teasing those three girls with the cookies. You haven’t really stopped smiling since.
“You’relaaaugh-iiiiing!”
You roll your eyes. “So what if I am?”
Jungkook watches as you screw the water bottle’s cap back on and set it down, next to the right leg of your chair.
“Are you?” he asks gently. “H-having fun?”
He wants you.
To have fun, that is.
He wants you to have fun because you so clearly hadn’t earlier that day. He’s good at fun. At least, he’s always thought he is. In much the same way that Mrs. Chan is good at walnut chicken, and the Jeups are good at cookies, and the Gal brothers are good at ice cream.
He’s always thought that he’s been good at fun. Things have gotten a little busier, as life does. He hasn’t talked to as many people in a while. He definitely hasn’t gotten to swing by Yugyeom’s nearly as often, and he’s missed his check-ins with Yugyeom’s wonderful neighbors. While standing out there on the curb, peering up at your building, he wondered if he’d changed.
But, if you’re having fun, given the day that you’ve had, then that means he hasn’t.
He’s still good at fun.
Maybe if you knew this was kind of about him, it wouldn’t feel so strange for someone to want you to have fun when just a couple of hours ago, the bubble of your perfectly pleasant life burst at the discovery that people who celebrated your birthday, who clinked drinks with you at happy hour, who left you funny sticky notes on your desk, who shared the load when work got overwhelming — people who were supposedly invested in you — didn’t actuallycare all that much.
Do you even deserve it? Fun? When you are so easily discarded?
Jungkook clearly deserves it. He’s only just met you, by some dumpsters no less, and he’s still, inexplicably, trying so hard.
You feel your heavy heart pulling you under.
But then, you catch sight of The Hulk tucked into Jungkook’s pocket.
“I am.” You grin. “I am having a lot of fun.”
He brightens. Sits a little taller.
“Good!” His eyes close nearly all the way, and his two front teeth bunch up his lips. “I knew you were.”
He jumps to his feet. “Feeling up to more games? Maybe those board games?”
The sangria is starting to catch you, mixing with the swirl of emotions bogging down your heavy, heavy heart. You need to do something to let it out.
“Which floor had the karaoke?” you ask. “Six?”
“Quit hogging the mic!”
You spin around and scream the next lyrics at this surly, thin-lipped man, mashing whatever he can into a lour look of extreme disapproval.
The next part of this song is iconic, and masterful. You know each of the vocal parts in the lush swell of the breakdown, but this occasion calls for the throughline, the main melody, to drive the point home.
You put a resonant sting on the syncopated quarter notes that carry into the next measure, tapping your toes on each eighth-note of this manifesto.
“NEH!!! VER GONNA GET IT NEVER GONNA GET IT!”
Exaggerating even more, you pull your lips into a mocking pout, and you descend down the harmonic scale.
“NEHHHH-VER GONNA GET IT—”
Brazen, and drawing a bit of power from the room clapping and laughing around you, you grab the handle of your stapler, aim it at Thin Lips’ cleft chin, and clap the hammer against the anvil on each note.
“WOO-WOO-WOO-WOOOOOOO!!!!”
“THE FUCK—”
“Shik.”
You aren’t sure when Jungkook got up from his seat on the Hans-in-6F’s couch, but now, he’s next to you, arms folded, chest slightly bouncing from holding in his laughter.
Thin-lipped Shik glares at him, and you start circling around Jungkook instead, singing the second half of the breakdown a little softer, but swaying your stapler in the air.
Jungkook’s eyes, which have been following you this whole time, spread out to the rest of the room, everyone chanting and clapping along. “We’re all having a good time.”
“She’s sung like a hundred songs!” Shik protests. “I want a turn!”
At the whiff of vodka that follows, Jungkook negotiates, “One more song, alright?”
He speaks kindly, with the kind of smile that people born with goodness and light at their core can share. But he puffs himself up when he says it. He unfolds his arms, and his chest inflates. He flexes his right hand. Just in case.
Shik sighs. “Fine. But make it something pleasant. She’s been screamingfor the past hour.”
He takes Jungkook’s seat on the couch, seemingly discontent unless he’s taking things from other people.
But it’s fine. The energy is dissipating anyway, En Vogue starting to decrescendo and queue up your next show-stopping performance.
“Hey.” Jungkook’s unflexed right hand lands softly on your shoulder. “Diva.”
You turn and smile at him.
“Wanna do one last song?”
Panting, and jamming your stapler back into your pocket, you slow your dancing feet to a mere sway, pouring your weight to the left, then to the right.
“OK,” you say, mind starting to wander, “but let me pick something different.” Your eyes widen a bit. “Would you wanna sing something with me?”
Jungkook beams. “Yeah!”
As you scroll through your private YouTube playlist of karaoke faves, he stands a little closer. Looks over your shoulder with curiosity. Giggles softly when your thumb tugs at ones that he likes, too.
He smells good.
“Ooh!”
You startle back at his sudden exclamation and bump into his chest.
And he just lets you.
“You, uh, know this one ?” you ask, thumb hovering over a picture of two silhouettes.
“I love that one.”
“Me too.”
A shared glance between you tells you how much.
Jungkook hums. “Then start us off.”
Growing up, you’d wished that the karaoke industry would work faster. Churn out more microchips that held more than just the 70s and 80s ballads that your family sang in the same rotation at every holiday, birthday, christening, graduation, wedding, hell, every Saturday morning, while you each took charge of scrubbing a different part of the house…
Nowadays, karaoke versions of songs aren’t hard to find. Literally every song is essentially at your fingertips. But with every song at your fingertips, it’s becoming harder and harder to find people who know what you know. Like what you like.
As Jungkook reaches for the other mic, still charging on its base, you play the instrumental.
And you raise your mic to your mouth.
“I keep so much of me hidden. Can’t lie. No, I’ve got this pain inside. Most times I never admit it. But with you, no, I don’t want to hide.”
Jungkook bites his lip as you sing. You aren’t the most gymnastic singer, but you have such a pleasant voice. And he’s not the only one who thinks so. A hush has fallen over the entire room, and even Shik is captivated by the way you’ve softened the air around you.
“What’s there all the time. And weighs on my mind. My friends say they listen. But honestly, I don’t think that they get me like you do. You don’t have to try. I come unfolded with the things I hold inside. I have never told no one but you.”
How long have you been singing? Has it been an hour? Two?
Maybe people don’t tire of you as easily as you thought.
Your heart feels a little lighter.
And you let Jungkook fill the space that remains.
“When I’m with you, I feel different.”
In just one line, you discover that if Jungkook’s voice were a drink, it would be a toasted marshmallow mocha. If Jungkook’s voice were a feeling, it would be your bare legs meeting the backseat of the car on a tempered summer day. If Jungkook’s voice were a hand, it would cup your cheek and hold your face up to make sure you didn’t miss the sight of a falling star.
“Like I can’t just be your warmness, oh baby…”
His vocal runs are hurdles and sprints and marathons in equal turns, voice strong and whole as he dips in and out of notes and syllables, playing with time, and tickling your lighter, and lighter, and even lighter, heart.
“I’ve been through some tough things in my life. And it’s so easy to tell you.”
You believe him.
You believe him so strongly that you almost miss your cue to join him again at the chorus, singing an octave apart, matching him note for note, voice bending and gliding a little easier. Freer.
But then everything juststops.
The music. Your voices. The energy.
It all comes to a halt.
Other voices start to overlap. Curses, and concern.
A small circle of bright, invasive light appears. And then another. And another.
They catch people in slices.
Frowns. Fists.
Eyes. No two sets meeting.
Except, somehow, yours and Jungkook’s.
“Everyone OK?” someone asks, as more and more tiny spotlights rove around the room.
“Apparently it’s the whole building!”
“The whole block?”
“Look out the window!”
“Yeah, it’s the whole city!”
Whines start to fill the room. Then groans. Then yells.
“Fuck,” you hear Jungkook whisper, “people are gonna lose it pretty quickly.”
You feel a hand grab yours and yank you toward them.
“It’s me.”
But you knew that.
And now you know that the center of his body, the notch where his pecs and the top of his abs meet and surrender to one another, seems to be a perfect spot for your hand to rest. And your hand resting there makes up for all the blows that your feet and shins and hips take as you fight your way through the distressed crowd.
“Door.”
You don’t see or feel it. Jungkook’s already holding it open for you, leading you through by jutting out his chest and letting you know where he is, which is right there, still curved around your hand.
His hand leaves yours and slides down your side, circling around your back, incidentally following the line of the band of your bra. His forearm pins you to him, and you feel your body bending with his as he shuffles you through to the hall. His chin rests on the top of your head, and your temple cushions against his collarbone.
Baby powder.
Bodes beat against your back, and you take in a sharp breath, your fingers balling into fists. One hand is still safely settled into that notch below Jungkook’s chest. Your other arm is pressed to your side, hugged by Jungkook’s armpit, your hand swinging down and closing around—
“Wait, shit, I’m still holding the mic?”
“It’s OK,” he tells you. “Everything’s OK.”
But something catches his attention.
“Deji?!”
You feel Jungkook’s chest tighten around your fist.
“Deji!!”
“Mr. Jeup?” Jungkook calls out, hoping his voice can meet hers despite the building wails.
“Jungkook-ah?”
“Yes, it’s Jungkook!”
The collective spotlights help Jungkook and Mr. Jeup find each other across the hall, and Jungkook leads him, and you, to a spot close to the staircase railing.
Mr. Jeup has soaked through the collar of his shirt.
“I can’t find Deji,” he says breathlessly. “I’d already been looking for her for a couple of hours, but she got separated from her unnies—” He clicks his teeth. “Always trailing behind.”
You think of the sweet girl slapping Jungkook’s hand away from her basket of cookies.
“We’ll find her.”
From what you can tell, Jungkook’s voice is enough to reassure Mr. Jeup, as the slices of him that you get look more and more relieved.
“Go home and check in with Mrs. Jeup and the girls,” Jungkook tells him. “My friend and I will go up floor by floor. I’ll text you the moment I see her.”
Mr. Jeup shakes his head. “We should’ve just gotten her a phone. Like she wanted.”
“She won’t be far. She knows your rules.” A slice of light catches Jungkook’s smile, as fond as when he had exchanged those cute giggles with her earlier. “And, though it might not seem like it, she always follows them.”
Mr. Jeup nods. “Thanks, Jungkook. Let me know.”
Shades of Mr. Jeup make their way along the railing, following it carefully as he makes his way back downstairs.
“I’ll formally introduce you another time,” he says apologetically.
Jungkook can’t be so hospitable, or demented, to be thinking about a formal introduction in this fraught situation.
But then you think of how he and Deji teased each other. Their familiar, funny way. How she gave him four cookies as a treat.
Or a payment.
A placid smile spreads across your face. “You know where she is, don’t you?”
Jungkook chuckles.
“C’mon.”
“When will it come back on??”
“We wanna watch!”
“It was just about to get to the good part!”
“Give it a few more minutes,” a voice, more mature than the others, calls out. “Give the backup generators a little bit of time to kick in.”
“They’re not going to,” another older voice says in response. “It’s been too long. I’m betting they’re down as well.”
“Stop it!” the first hisses. “You’ll scare them!”
As predicted, the younger voices start to clamor.
“What??”
“So when will the power come back on?”
“I’m getting hot!”
“Me too! I’m starting to sweat!”
“Eeeewww!”
“Helloooooo!”
Jungkook calls brightly from the hallway through the opening door, slowly revealing a group of kids in the living room, and a couple on the couch, outlined against a soft half-sphere of candlelight.
“Yon! Yeo!”
“Jungkookie!”
The woman on the left jumps up from the couch, and the woman on the right just nods.
You sigh softly when, in the center back of the group of kids, all of them lying on top of each other, having kicked off their blankets and facing a blank, white bed sheet hanging on a cleared clothing rack, you see Deji, sitting with her legs criss-crossed.
And next to a boy.
Jungkook lets go of your hand, but not without glancing at you to make sure it’s OK to.
You smile and nod, lingering in the doorway and watching him tiptoe in the gaps between squishy, teeny arms and legs to crouch down next to Deji, and this boy.
Deji gives Jungkook a high five, and you smirk to yourself as he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, sighing with relief as he starts to type.
The woman who waved gets up and walks over to you, leaning on a bookshelf by the door and folding her arms.
“I’m Yon,” she replies. “And that’s Yeo.”
She jerks her thumb behind her.
Staring straight ahead, Yeo takes another sip of wine.
You introduce yourself and say, “Did you set this up for the kids?”
Yon nods. “Toy Story 3. We were almost at the incinerator scene.”
Your eyes pop open, and you look over to the kid who cheered about the scene earlier.
“That was the good part??”
Yon cackles and says, “Seojun over there has a dark sense of humor.”
The other kids have successfully been distracted, settling into other lively conversations, giggling and playing games with each other, and with Jungkook.
But Seojun quietly breaks free from the group and makes her way to the couch. She plops down next to Yeo, the two of them chatting quietly.
Yon watches them affectionately. “So does Yeo. Kindred spirits, those two.”
They look so serious. But there are moments. Eyebrow flickers. Chuckles. And, throughout, a warm smile of recognition of something deeper. A somewhat somber but understanding of the world around them.
Seojun pauses. Stumbles. Gets whatever she wants to say out. Yeo seems to ponder it, and then says something back. Then, Seojun and Yeo look away from each other, and Yeo strokes her hair once as Seojun hides a smile.
You didn’t realize how many kids lived in the building. But you’re usually out before they’re up, and back in long after they’re asleep.
“Kind of you to host something kid-friendly.”
“To be honest, these have kind of been little test runs.”
Yon’s voice is cautious and small, but happy.
“We want to adopt,” she admits.
Her eyes are pillowy soft as they scan over those tiny, laughing faces.
“The kids around here are so sweet. Good families. Good parents. They don’t judge. And they’ve given us so many smiles. It’d be nice to share our lives like this all the time. Especially with a little one who really needs it.”
You can feel how momentous Yon’s heart must be. Her words surround you. Inflate you. Lift you up.
“Well,” you sigh, impressed, and a little sheepish, at her outpouring of love, “the little ones who get to join your family are quite lucky.”
Yon lets out a deep, encouraged sigh. “Thanks for that. Nice to hear something positive, y’know? It’s been… hard.”
You regretfully agree.
“Anyway,” Yon replies, “how do you know Jungkook? Are you friends with Yugyeom, too? That’s how we met him.”
“I, um—”
Desk.
Office.
Job.
“Well, I just met him today.” You blink. You can’t believe you just met him today.
Yon smiles, recognizing your dazed look.
“He makes quite an impression, doesn’t he?”
Your eyes land on him as he grins and throws up a peace sign while taking a picture with Deji, and laughing with the boy, who is starting to take interest in The Hulk bobblehead in Jungkook’s pocket.
“I’ve known him since he was a skinny teen,” Yon reflects. “His parents used to own this building, but they sold the property when they retired. He’s still here all the time, though.”
She smiles.
“It’s been a little while since we’ve gotten to see him. But it’s always so nice when we do. He just makes things… better.”
Jungkook notes the boy’s gaze, and his bent fingers reach into that pocket to pull The Hulk’s head out, flashing The Hulk’s cute little grimace, to Deji and the boy’s delight.
But when the boy reaches out for it, Jungkook frowns and leans back, not letting the boy take The Hulk out of his pocket completely, choosing instead to close the flap of his pocket over The Hulk’s black eyes, tapping the pocket in thanks for safekeeping.
You giggle.
Maybe that’s the secret to Jungkook.
To all of this.
Being a kid at heart.
Yes, things have been hard.
Thingsarehard.
But they haven’t been hard just today. And not just for you. Or Yon and Yeo. Or Shik. Or Mr. Jeup. Or any of the people in your building, on your block, in this city.
Everyone is shuffling around, lost in the dark.
But it isn’t your fault.
It isn’t anyone’sfault.
Maybe that’s just how it is sometimes.
Maybe that’s how it is all the time.
There’s always more that you could do to fight against the darkness. To make things better.
But maybe there’s also more time for selcas, and singing, and sangria.
Fun, kind things that you could do with others. And for yourself.
Maybe that’s the way to start.
Yon’s face suddenly pulls together tightly. And you follow her gaze to your hip.
“Why do you have a stapler in your pocket?”
“Hey!” Jungkook exclaims, popping up beside you and patting Yon’s back.
“Hey,” Yon says warmly, leaning in for a hug. “We were just getting to know each other.” She smirks. “Just as it seems the two of youare.”
Jungkook grins at you. “The two of us have been having fun.”
You smile.
“Oooh,funnnn,” Yon says, her voice waving up and down as the word trails from her lips.
She smirks at Jungkook.
“Then don’t worry about Deji. She’s just fine.”
And she is. Deji and the boy are in their own little bubble, voices hushed, bodies crouched and facing each other, smiles mirroring.
“Tell Mr. Jeup that I can walk her down if he wants,” Yon says.
↳ Thank you to @kim-seok-jin for the beautiful banner and dividers, and to @chillingtae for helping her with it! ^^
Heartbroken and done with relationships, Y/N decides to vent about her breakup to the sweetest bartender. Yet just a glance in his dark eyes is enough to tell her that maybe, just maybe she won’t spend the night crying for an ex-boyfriend, but drowning in her lust for him instead.
↠ Pairing: Jungkook × f.reader
↠ Word Count: 10.9k
↠ Genres: Angst, smut, fluff, (slight) crack (if you squint)
↠ Rating:18+
↠ Trigger Warnings: Breakups and toxic relationship, cheating, swearing, physical fight, drama, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, hinted voyeurism, one night stand, long foreplay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, degrading, creampie
⇢ This story was written as a birthday gift to @rubinora. We hope you had an amazing day! :D ⇠
Soojin:Y/N come quick.
You take a deep breath. I’m almost there, Soojin, I’m almost there. The sound of your footsteps against the pavement is the only thing you hear. You would’ve made it. You would’ve made it in time if it wasn’t for your pesky co-workers.
To the usual person, it is a cool Friday night.
To you, it is one of the worst days of your life.
… Or maybe you wouldn’t go as far as to call it that. Maybe, in the future, you would even call this one of your good days.
But for now?
You smile bitterly, uncaring who sees. Right now- there’s nothing more you want to do than scream. Yell. Anything to take away the fury and pain burning bright in your chest.
Your eyes fall on a couple as you pass them by, reminding you of the reason you’re out in the streets this late at night, instead of relaxing at home.
Jihyuk.
Your boyfriend.
Someone you had a deep admiration for. Someone you loved.
Someone who doesn’t feel the same way anymore.
It had all started when you had seen him come home hours later than usual. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. You told yourself that he must be out in town with his friends while you were at work, since he must’ve been bored alone. Because the deal is, he wasn’t employed. He had neither a job nor a penny in his bank account.
And that’s where you helped him. You were the worker. You put a roof over his head, you were the reason he had food on the plate everyday. You were there when he needed to buy anything. It felt more like you were a single parent providing for a child rather than a real, romantic relationship. And that should’ve been more than enough of a reason to leave him but you didn’t.
And now you regret it.
The next thing that came were the hickies on his neck. Purple bruises put on display, with his flushed cheeks- sometimes he was even drunk. Still, you helped him. Still, you gave him the benefit of a doubt, even when his ears turned red when you asked him if he was lying about just hanging out with friends.
Because there was no point in asking and answering. You already knew what he was doing, already saw the truth in his eyes.
And somehow still, everytime your friends would show you Jihyuk kissing some other girl, every time they’d tell you that they saw him out with some chick, you’d tell them they had to be seeing things. That the pictures could be photoshopped. Or maybe this was just a joke to make you dump him. But those things weren’t things you were saying to them, as much as it was to yourself, to convince your mind that what you saw or heard wasn’t it. It wasn’t the truth.
The truth is everything that has yet to be revealed today.
And at this point, you had gotten over the crying, the weeping, the sorrow and the regret. What is left is the anger- the feeling of being used.
You had given him everything, literally everything, only for him to treat you like some side doll. It hurt then. It hurt even now. It hurt a lot, especially on those nights, when you’d greet him after he came home, the smell of perfume thick on his body, lips bitten and swollen, cheeks red and flushed.
“Do you want dinner?” you’d ask, your eyes wandering anywhere but his face.
“Uh, no, I’m full. I ate out with friends, one of them treated the group.”
Lies. So many lies, told just so you’d keep him under your wing, protected and financially secured.
You smile widely even though inside, your heart wrenches. Why couldn’t he just tell you? It wasn’t like he thought you hadn’t noticed his aloof behaviour. How it affected you in turn.
Or did he? Maybe, he just thought that you were actually that dumb.
Maybe you really were that ignorant.
“Oh… okay. Well… I still have to eat,” you waited for this douche. You can’t believe it. Starved yourself so you could eat dinner with him when he probably was out with a girl. “So… do you want to talk as I eat?”
“Uhm,” his eyes met yours for a moment before he turned them away. “Uh- babe, I’m sorry… I’m tired after the long day, so,” he gave you a small smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you really want, I can go, but uh, let me take a shower first? Honestly… my, uh, friends can be so rowdy… I’m exhausted, but I guess you were waiting for me and all…”
You bit your lip as the warring thoughts of indignation, and yet also guilt filled you. “No- no, nevermind. If you’re tired,” you clenched your fists, “you should- go rest now.”
“Are you sure, babe? I wouldn’t want you to think I was avoiding you. Maybe I should-”
“No! No, I told you, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re the only person who understands and loves me best,” he praised you-and you felt a spark of fury, of hate and love grow in your chest. Was that all he could say to you? “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, his smile fainting away before walking past you to the bedroom. You stared at him until he left, until you couldn’t see him anymore as his silhouette disappeared upstairs.
The next day went similarly. You had arrived at your empty home.
Why?
Then there were days where you felt a little too insecure and asked him instead.
“Baby, are you… cheating on me?”
His body froze. He didn’t say anything for a moment, sitting on the couch as you had begged him a little earlier to watch a K-drama with you. Maybe it would’ve made the relationship a little better. Maybe you could’ve bonded. But he only seemed to be interested on his phone screen.
“What makes you say that?” Still, his eyes did not lift up to look at you.
“Eun says she saw you with this girl,” you muttered quietly, so quietly that you thought he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did. “She must have seen someone else,” he replied in a nonchalant manner.
“But it really looked like you, she said…”
“Do you believe her over me?” You watched him as he finally looked at you. “I’m your boyfriend, for God’s sake,” you bit your lip, then sighed heavily. It didn’t let all the words escape you. “I know, but…”
“If you want to end this relationship, I won’t stop you. But just know, you won’t find a better guy than me. After all, here I am, taking the time to watch with you, and you accuse me of cheating?”
Maybe you won’t find someone better. But even so, you knew that you didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the late nights, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t home, if you’d done something wrong. No, you deserved better- and even if that better wasn’t from someone else, it certainly wouldn’t be from him.
Jihyuk huffed before standing up, wearing his coat and moments later, you heard the front door open and close. Moments of silence filled the room. You waited for Jihyuk expectantly, waiting for it to open and reveal him, but it didn’t.
“I wish I didn’t meet you.”
You are so over it. You are so over him.
You and Soojin had decided to catch him in the act. Your best friend had come up with the plan, and initially you had been in denial of it. But you had to end this cycle. You were so tired of it, of the constant stress you had to live with, of the burden that you weren’t supposed to carry.
You chose to set him up. If he agreed to Soojin’s advances, you were going to catch him red-handed and break it off right there and then.
And he had done exactly what you didn’t want him to.
Of course he had. You should’ve caught onto him a long time ago, but you really were a fool. And now that disgusted you. Hate intended for him enveloped you for your own self.
Walking into the dim-lit club, you are greeted by the sight of bodies pushing up against each other on the dance floor, the faint smell of alcohol lingering everywhere you step, and a bar, shining the brightest in the place. Silhouettes with their lips’ on one another, people drinking down glasses of liquor by each second that passed. A part of you is disgusted that Jihyuk took Soojin to a club, and the other isn’t surprised at all. No wonder the marks on his neck, his swollen lips.
Y/N:I’m here.
Soojin:Ok I’m in the bathroom hiding he was getting too close
Y/N:Right… lets meet up at the bar then.
Soojin:Ok!
Walking swiftly to the bar, you hope Jihyuk doesn’t see you, though in the wild crowd, you know he likely won’t.
You search for a familiar face as you reach the bar. Your eyes wander and land on the blonde that seems to be looking slightly lost.
“Soojin!” You call out and walk over to her, knowing fully well what is next. “Where is he?”
“Follow me,” you hear her voice above the loud music. Her disheveled figure makes its way to the seats. You can barely see her in the dark place, if not for the neon lightings flashing here and there.
You take a deep breath in.
Under a stray lighting, you catch sight of the hair you used to so fondly caress. Another one beside it, too close for them to be anything but sitting close, closer than friends, and definitely strangers. A few steps closer and you’d be close enough to see them clearly, close enough to catch him cheating perfectly.
Your heart feels numb, for a moment, contrary to before, but-
Three.
It’s funny how you can hear your heels echoing even in this noisy club. Or maybe that’s the beating of your heart.
Two.
Thinking back on everything that you’d gone through with him, if there’s any emotion that you think you should be feeling right now, it’s disbelief. Why? Did all the tender touches, all the kisses, all the ‘I love you’s mean nothing then?
It must, or else this wouldn’t be happening at all.
One.
Yet even so, your ever traitorous heart still weeps at the sight before you, as your gazes both match.
Jihyuk’s eyes widen as he sees you. His lips are pressed to the side of a girl’s neck, and even under the dim lighting, you can see the dark splotches of color on her pale skin. The girl beside him whimpers, leaning in closer, seeking his touches, the way he used to make you feel oh so good, your mind whispers.
He only pushes her away, frozen in place as he locks you down with guilt in his eyes.
The loud, deafening music somehow doesn’t matter anymore.
“Y/N,” his voice can barely be heard, but for someone like you who’s watched him utter your name with adoration before, you hear him perfectly.
“Well… I guess I’m not that surprised.” Your words are dry, devoid of feeling. Your fists are clenched. Your smile is wry. “What do you have to say for yourself?” you are going to do this quick, you tell yourself. But the crowd of people overhearing the matter already have their eyes on you.
As it is, even people lost in the rhythm of the club’s music are interested in your confrontation, bodies stopping in motion, only for strange eyes to stare at you with curiosity instead.
It’s scary. You can’t do this, a part of you wants to say- but how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone and felt the butterflies dance in your stomach, telling a tale so similar to the one of your lips? How long has it been since you’ve wanted to do something like that?
Your heart burns.
Truth be told, too long. Too fucking long. You’ve spent too much time in misery for you to turn your back on the person that brought you it. You want to be free. Breathe air without feeling suffocated, sleep without having to think about a person being next to you as you do so.
Free, at last.
“I-” he tries to speak, but you look at him quietly, face devoid of any emotion, only your lips tightening a clue to your current mood.
“Don’t you feel like shit? Leaving me alone on those nights when I actually put a roof over your head, when I’m the main reason you get to eat food every day? Why did you do this to me?”
You know you sound desperate. Here he is, clearly in the arms of another, yet you’re asking him, staring at him, waiting for an answer, an excuse, but he is able to give none. It only makes it all the worse, it only makes you gasp for more air, because each time he doesn’t reply, the walls get tighter and tighter.
“Fuck, if you wanted someone to give you a good time in bed, why couldn’t it have been me? We were in a relationship!” you exclaim. More people are gathering around, but at this point, you can’t care less.
“Could you not control yourself for once?! Do you have no shame coming home each day smelling like sex? Do you not love me?” The last words leave you as a whisper, your voice choked up and your tone vulnerable. It is evident he didn’t love you, if he did then he wouldn’t have done this. But you still wanted to ask. In case there was the smallest chance that he would give you something to hold onto.
“What about the times that you lied? Do you have no heart?” A single tear slips down your cheek.
Fuck. You hatethis.
Seconds pass, and nothing but his silence answers you. And when he does- it does nothing but rile you even further.
“Babe…” There’s the guilt in his eyes, that’s true, but it’s eclipsed by the panic, the way he’s obviously trying to assuage your anger. Instead of just admitting it. Instead of asking for your forgiveness.
Not that you would at this point, even if he begged on his knees.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he winces and you sharply smile.
“What, you can, but I can’t? Besides, shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? There I was, wondering where my boyfriend was, someone without a job staying out so late without even a message,” you laugh, as though the entire matter is funny to you, but anyone can easily hear the mockery in your voice. “Then I find out he’s in a club, busy whoring himself out.”
He bristles at that, guilt fading into anger as he stands up. “I’m whoring myself out?”
“Well, what else would you call it? You certainly don’t have any money, after all, not even to afford partying at this club. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you ask me for money?”
At that, you turn to face his previously ignored companion. Seeing the surprise and growing disgust against your soon-to-be-ex, you ask her gently. It’s all too obvious she didn’t know, after all. And as angry as you are, you won’t blame her for something that’s not her fault.
“Miss, dare I ask, did he have you pay for the drinks?”
She startles, but answers you steadily after a moment. “No, not at the start… but he did insist we pay for our own drinks, and then later on, he told me he left his wallet at home…” Realization colors her features as he reddens in embarrassment and anger. “That asshole, I must have spent more than a hundred dollars by now!”
“Tsk, tsk,” you mockingly shake your head at him, a part of you roaring at the highly humiliated look on his face. Just a glance downwards, and you can see how his fists are clenched, perhaps as tight as yours, veins already bulging out. Just a little more, and you could get him to explode. “Here I was, all but raising you, looking after you and feeding you, taking care of you, and you can’t even learn to have basic decency. Maybe I should feel ashamed, after all… more than being a couple in a relationship, our relationship turned more like mother and son, didn’t it?”
At the very end of your words, you raise your head, laughing. Jihyuk’s face colors to the point that it’s almost violet, and you feel vindictive satisfaction fill you.
“Y/N, you bitch!”
“What,” you scoff. “Did I say something wrong?”
If glares could kill, Jihyuk’s would have long gutted you, but it doesn’t, so you continue to hold your head high, smiling nonchalantly.
His next words make you hiss.
“If you weren’t always so busy, I wouldn’t have to look for someone else. When you came home, you never want to have sex with me, so why is it my fault if I look for someone else, huh!?”
You feel the flames inside you consume you even further, raging inside you and there’s nothing you can do to help relieve yourself of it. Before you know it, you’re stepping forward, arms being raised-
All you want is to make him hurt, like he did you, even if it’s only a fraction of what he’s made you feel. That motherfucker, daring to place the blame on you!?
Hell no.
Hitting him all that matters at the moment- that’s all that runs through your head- but then you suddenly find yourself unable to move, restrained. When you look back, you see Soojin’s face, twisted in worry.
“Soojin,please, let me go!” You hiss furiously, struggling in her hold, trying to get away. Yet, to her credit, Soojin keeps a tight hold on you, not letting you take another step forward. “Are you seriously stopping me from hitting him!? Are you taking his side!?” You ask her in disbelief, even if you know it’s not like that.
“Y/N, I’m not!” Immediately she shakes her head, yet she doesn’t let you go. “But you know you can’t start this here, you-” she bites down on her red lip, shaking her head. “You can’t. Please, you know he’s crazy, what if he hurts you!”
It doesn’t matter, I’m already hurt where it matters most anyway! You want to shout at her, but then you change your mind, glaring at the man you were once stupid enough to call yours.
“If I was ever busy, or tired, I hope you realize that it was always for you! And if I didn’t want to have sex, what did that have to do with you cheating!? Do promises mean nothing to you!? I never asked you for anything more than you being faithful to me, even when you kept asking me for money, even when you lived free at my house, even when you made me into your personal bank and caretaker! You asshole, motherfucker, I hope you rot in hell where cheaters like you belong!”
“Shut up!” He yells back at you, beginning to step forward, and Soojin is dragging you away- but you hold your ground. Let him come, if he wants-
“Shut up!? How can I when I’m not even done yelling about what you did! What, are you ashamed now!?” Only a step away. “How can there be someone as stupid as you who dares to cheat but can’t admit they did!?” His hand raised, curled into a fist. “Not only that, you just took advantage of me because I loved you! You no good, lying, coward-”
You see his punch descending down on you now, yet still you stubbornly look up at him, gritting your teeth. You won’t say sorry, if he wants to punch you, then let him punch you.
Yet still, at the last second, your eyes shut by themselves. You’re angry, yes, you’re furious, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you’re well aware Jihyuk’s stronger, and you’ve never been punched before-
A second passes. You feel nothing. Not the feel of his hand against your face, not the harsh, stinging pain that’d come with it, not the screams of Soojin as she cried.
Two seconds pass. Time is a mere fraction of what it used to be, and yet it’s slowly returning to you as you open your eyes, realizing you were seemingly waiting for nothing at all.
Three seconds pass. Your eyes land on the stranger holding Jihyuk’s wrist with a strong grip, brows furrowed with an intimidating scowl on his face. You step back out of fear.
“I assume, when you came in, you knew the rules of this bar,” the stranger says, voice low, a certain weight behind his every word. “No starting fights. What makes you think you’re an exception to that?”
“Let me go!” Jihyuk hisses, struggling to free his arm from the stranger, yet the other just easily holds him back. “Fuck, you heard what that bitch said about me!?”
“You mean, your ex?” The stranger sighs. “I don’t know if you’re just as stupid as she said you were, if you don’t realize that it’s your fault-”
Whatever he says next, you don’t hear, as you take this advantage to step forward-
-and slap Jihyuk as hard you can.
Your palms immediately sting, but you can’t be bothered to care about that, not when you see the bright red imprint left behind on his face, and the stunned look on his face. Grinning viciously, you hiss at him.
“That’s just a part of the pain you owe me, but considering you’re too dumb to understand something as simple as respect, I’ll just take this as payment.”
“From now on, I want you to fuck off and never appear in front of me again.”
The ringing silence that follows makes you feel like you can finally breathe again.
“… Satisfied?” The unknown man raises a brow at you- and your heart skips a beat for the first time in a while as you swallow, finally calming down a little… It’s loud, crashing, dizzying all at once but you nod at him. Your hands are trembling. You’re about ready to cry but still.
The rest of the words your now ex screams out blur out into the background as Soojin thanks the stranger, leading you away.
The rest of the events happen in what feels to be a flashback you get as you’re taking a sip of beer from the cup leisurely.
The stranger, Jungkook, he had told you his name, was told by your best friend about the problem. He called security, but came first to mediate just in case. After that, he let them take care of Jihyuk. The crowd around you dispersed upon finding out that the scene you had created was over, and Soojin went home after giving you the tightest hug someone had given you in a while now.
Though she tried to persuade you to go home too, you were in obviously no mood to go home- where every inch of the walls was filled with the presence of your- your ex.
It was only after a lot of convincing and reassuring her that you were safe with Jungkook did she leave, her own baby calling for her.
And you stayed at the bar, quietly watching Jungkook work.
During that time, you find out that he’s, overall, a nice guy. He has a cute smile that shows off his teeth perfectly, dark hair that you could imagine him brushing through with his hand, and the cutest, biggest eyes you’ve seen, like a deer caught in the headlights. Adorable.
What surprises you is that he works as a bartender at this place. Which does make sense now that you think about it. But between your dunk mind and slurred words, every little piece of logic is thrown aside.
He had asked if you wanted him to walk you home. You being… well, you, denied almost immediately. Tonight seemed like a good night to get wasted, after all.
“Whatever you say… but you do have the keys to your apartment, right?” the dark-haired man asks, face resting on his hand. He blinks at you under the bright lights of the bar, staring as you take another sip of the alcohol. “Just so your ex doesn’t get in?”
“Of course, I locked it too,” you roll your eyes slightly, glare set on the table below you as you seethe, remembering him. “He’s probably gonna stay at some friend’s place for the night, the jerk. I hope he does, all his friends live miles away. I took the car keys so he can’t drive either, only either walk or take a cab. And considering he barely has any money left…”
You smirk.
A fleeting smile touches on Jungkook’s face as he regards you with awe. “Huh. I guess you put more to your plan than just charging in and breaking up with him, huh?”
“I’m heartbroken, not stupid. It’s an emotional stupidity, not a mental one.”
You huff, once again laying your head back on the cool glass of the table. Fuck, you’re tired. Not just emotionally, but also physically. The night’s events leave you wanting nothing but to stay and drink your sorrows away, uncaring in which bed you’ll be waking up tomorrow.
After all, it’s not like you’ve been to any besides your own for the past few months. Maybe that will bring you some variety at least. The thought makes you laugh bitterly, and in turn down another glass of alcohol.
You hear someone sigh beside you.
“…Right,” he mutters in response, eyes widening shortly after you take another huge gulp of your drink. You suppose, if anything, Jungkook knows how to make delicious drinks. “Don’t drink too much, Y/N, you’re already-” you watch with droopy eyes as he reaches out to you, your head only propped up by your elbow, before stopping with a sigh. “You’re already drunk.”
Ignoring him momentarily, you finish your drink, savoring the taste.
“Sh-shhhuddap,” you slur, the end of your words becoming a sigh. You set the cup aside, only for your head to plop back onto the bar table, a deep breath making your chest rise up- then down. Jungkook frowns at your small figure laying over the bar, the frown forming into a quiet pout.
“Let me… lemme just drink a little bit more, m-m’kay? ’ll jus…jus’ drink ‘nough to not f-feel…”
Whatever words you’re about to say dissolve into incoherent mumblings as you yawn, feeling the effects of numerous glasses of alcohol finally taking their toll on you.
“‘Night, Kook…”
When you wake up, your surroundings are awfully quiet, awfully dark. That is, until you rub your eyes and can see straight. Jungkook’s body comes into view, hand shaking you awake. His low whispers are barely addressed by your ears, and you numb them out until he kneels down to meet eye to eye with you.
Then a sweet smile plays on his lips, and wow.
For a moment, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.
Then he flicks your forehead, and you’re hurtled back to earth.
“Good, you’re finally awake,” he remarks, smile turning wry on his face. You pout in response, getting up. Your head hurts, it hurts bad, and there seems to be nothing you can do about it as you lean over the bar for support.
“So…urgh, so tired… feeling sick,” you utter beneath your breath, sighing when you realize Jungkook heard it.
“Why’d you even get wasted then? You’ll have to deal with it now,” he frowns, patting your back.
“You don’t get it, dumbass. I’m trying not to remember my ex?” you cross your arms, eyes wandering the place.
The club’s a lot less crowded now, barely any people left except for the ones who are cleaning it up. The music is quieter, playing softly in the background as you turn to Jungkook. Closing time already, you guess.
“… sorry,” you finally say, feeling remorse make space in your heart. “I don’t mean to be so crabby, but fuck, I just feel-” You scrunch up your nose as you try to mull over what you say next. “Actually, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Except- what the fuck was I thinking, letting it go on for so long?”
Jungkook hums, shrugging. “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has their own stupid moments. I completely understand.”
“Yeah, and mine lasted for god knows how many years,” you grumble.
For a moment he pauses, and you watch him put away bottles.
“You know, you fell asleep quickly earlier,” he suddenly mentions, making you flush. Ah. Right.
“Oh… yeah, I’m sorry about that,” you sigh. “I must’ve caused you a lot of trouble, having to look after me while you’re also busy with your work.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You just broke up with your boyfriend of how many years again?”
“Besides,” he continues, smiling. “If anything, your performance earlier more than made up for it. His face when you slapped him was hilarious.”
That startles a laugh out of you. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “… You looked amazing then too.”
“Thanks. … to be honest, just a single slap wasn’t enough, so I definitely had to make it count,” you say, scoffing at the end.
“Yeah, I figured,” the hint of laughter in his voice makes even you smile. “You didn’t yell at him enough, huh?”
“Nope,” you emphatically shake your head. “Which is a shame, because let me tell you- I have a whole speech in my head for him and his douche-assery. I didn’t even touch on the other major fuck ups he did!”
At that, he really does laugh, and you can’t help grinning yourself. “No, I mean it! I was hyping myself up all evening, but then when I actually saw him, my head blanked and- damn it, I should have let him have it even more in front of all those people,” you dramatically groan.
A smile forms on Jungkook’s face, even his eyes curved into a pair of crescent moons and somehow, it makes you somehow feel better just by looking at it.
“Well, there’s only the two of us left inside now, but if you want, I’ll listen to your speech,” he nonchalantly states.
“What, really?”
“Really.” He takes a deep breath, turning your body around so you completely face him. “C’mon, shout at me. Vent. I’m the bartender, I’ll listen. Besides, I’m curious to hear how terrible this guy was that you went so far to set him up.”
Reluctantly listening to the alcohol, you sigh before you start listing off all the reasons for why you’ve never felt okay with your relationship with Jihyuk. Jungkook hums and nods along in all the right pauses, quietly telling you to continue.
“… and not just that, he never came home when I needed him most, ghosted me on dates, forgot our anniversary two years in a row, made me break off friendships, never once paid for his own food, never made me cum even once. Like, what a dick!? And I mean the bad kind, not the good one-”
“Wait wait wait…” Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you. “He- He never… made you cum? Not even once?” He stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. “He must’ve really had it good,” he crosses his arms.
“I know, right,” you moan. “What was past me thinking? At this point, I don’t think any man will ever treat me right.”
The man shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe the next one will.”
You feel the urge to laugh at the ridiculous statement, though you hold it back. “You’re kidding, right? I’m never getting a boyfriend ever again,” you huff, shaking your head in disapproval. “Boys, pfft- no, thank you.”
Jungkook only turns his back to you in response, walking to the stools of the bar. He huffs loudly as he sits back down, and you can barely contain your laughter before it bursts out of you, ringing loud in the club. Nudging him by the arm to get his attention, you try your best to turn him around, but when he doesn’t, you move to sit next to him instead, on the bartop. The cool glass makes you initially shiver, but you don’t let it show.
“Did you say something?” You grin as you look at him, at the way he rolls his eyes just a little. “I know I heard you say something.”
“It was nothing,” he scoffs.
“Come on,” you cajole him. “You listened to me earlier and let me rant. I’m not going to laugh or be snarky, I swear.”
A moment passes, while you wait for him to speak up. At this point, the silence of the bar is comfortable, though while you look around, you see that no one else is left inside but the two of you.
“…-y’know?”
You look back at him. “Hm?”
“I think it’s just a little sad to declare that every guy out there is hopeless, because of one jerk,” he repeats, back turned to you as he fiddles with the display case.
You lean back on the bartop. “I guess so,” you say. “But it’s true that it’s disillusioning. I used to have high expectations when the relationship started, you know- but now that I ended it, it’s like- what happened? When did my expectations get so low? I deserve better, you know?”
“But it didn’t seem that way to me then. He seemed so great, so amazing… and now here we are. It scares me a little to think that I might fall for someone, only to find out how much of a jerk they are years down the road.”
“But you’ve got to try again, don’t you?” He softly says. “After all, you said it yourself. You deservebetter.”
At that, he finally faces you - before glancing down and turning away just as quickly.
“Eventually, though,” he clarifies, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not saying you should right now. Just that you shouldn’t give up on love.”
You chuckle softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”
Quiet fills the room again, a comfortable one. You watch Jungkook clean the last of the bar, wiping the surfaces and glasses.
And as you do, you can’t help but think of something a little too inappropriate.
‘I wonder how it’d feel to ride him.’
Okay, maybe it’s absolutely inappropriate. But it’s not your fault, you tell yourself. Not when Jungkook looks that good. Clad in a neat outfit with a silk black vest and a cute bow tie around his neck, he seemed as though he was a five star meal- and you feel yourself starving.
It really doesn’t help that you haven’t had sex in months, nor have you orgasmed in that time. You need release, one way or another.
Still, it’s bad form to ask him, this kind bartender who literally was just consoling you moments ago from a nasty break up if he wants to fuck, so you try to keep the thought down, but-
You extend your leg, toes barely brushing against his back, watching as he shudders at your touch.
Oh?
You bite your lips to stop yourself from grinning.
“Hey Jungkook… why aren’t you facing me?”
“I-I need to clean up the bar,” he huffs, but you hear the slight stammer in his voice, and oh, does it make you feel even bolder.
“Yeah,” you nonchalantly respond, “but you’d think you could at least try to appear like you’re listening to me, especially when we were having such a good chat.”
“You-” He stops, sighing, and you goad him even further, slowly feeling more sure the longer he hesitates.When he turns around- finally- you laugh as you slide your arms to rest on his shoulders, trapping him in front of you.
Furthermore, you cross your legs, a daring smirk on your face as you lean forward and over him close, close enough that as you look down at him, the tip of your noses brush against each other. The slight tremors that you elicit out of him at this close range doesn’t escape your notice, and you feel a rush of giddiness fill you up.
“You know, you were so insistent earlier, when we talked about what I deserved. But considering my past experiences, that feels a little hard to believe… do you think you can convince me otherwise?” You hum, fluttering your eyelashes at him. To his credit, Jungkook stills for only a moment, onyx eyes staring straight back at you. As if to ask permission, as if to wait for your next move. But you only continue to smile, letting him know you want this, asking him if he wants it.
Just as you think he’ll pull away, he only answers you back with a smirk of his own- and then, you can’t help but be entranced by the sudden, daring gleam in his eyes. Just as your arms are perched on his shoulders, you feel fingers gently trace over the edges of your lips.
“Why don’t you find out?”
You wouldn’t, normally. One night stands aren’t your thing. You rarely give your heart away, and even more your body.
But tonight, staring at the man in front of you, the challenge and interest visible in his eyes, you find yourself wanting to do otherwise.
Maybe I will, you think.
And then you dip down to kiss him.
Immediately, you can taste the hint of mint on his lips, the sweet aftertaste of what seems to be banana milk- it’s strange and surprising, not exactly what you’d think a bartender would taste like. It isn’t something you’ve tasted on someone else before either, but as his tongue glides over your lips, silently asking for permission, you find yourself coming to like the flavor. Especially when he kisses you hard enough to make you feel like you’re drowning.
You whimper in pleasure when you suddenly feel him press his bulge against your core for one moment, breaking the kiss only to groan again as he repeats the gesture, grinding your lower bodies together. You can only hold on to his back as tight as you can, feeling the rising tides of lust slowly pull you under its current. A breathless moan leaves you, echoing loudly in the quiet of the empty bar.
“Got something to say, sweetheart?” Jungkook coos, and the words are soon accompanied by a sharp pain on your neck, something that makes the pleasure taste all the more sweeter in comparison. That doesn’t even take into account his hands, which you now notice to be gliding over your stomach, stopping under your breasts as he fondles them and makes you arch back in pleasure for a moment.
“God, just continue doing that,” You whine out and he pauses to laugh, smirk turning into something softer, but just as wild. “Jungkook,” he corrects you, flicking your nipple and you flinch as a sharp wave of pleasure rushes over you. “Don’t call out anybody else’s name but mine, or I’ll punish you.”
‘How can I think about anybody else when you’re making me feel so good right now?’ You almost tell him that, you want to tell him that, but as Jungkook switches his attention from your collarbones to your breasts, tongue lavishing over each mound equally, you find your thoughts slipping away from you.
You don’t even register that you’re being pushed to lie back until the cold glass makes you jerk - and Jungkook firmly keeps you pinned down, another moan leaving you as you feel his fingers probe against your core. You feel him place butterfly kisses down your legs, the touch light yet the effects tremendous on you as you shiver and tremble from each one.
“We barely started and you’re already this wet, huh,” he grins as he slides a finger up your panty, where your slit would be. Juice already coats his finger well, and even though he only teases you against your panties, you find that you’re sensitive, too sensitive not to feel even more turned on by such a small gesture. “Or were you already wet earlier? What a naughty girl.”
“Fffffuck,” you groan, thrusting against his fingers so that they rub against you harder. “Just slip it in already,” you whimper. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Jungkook purrs as he flicks your nub, making you clench hard at the frustration and anticipation. It infuriates you even more when you feel his fingers leave your skirt, and he leans away a little. You can clearly see the smirk on his face again, amusement swimming with lust in his eyes. “You weren’t being so nice earlier either. Maybe if you were a good girl, I’d listen.”
At that, you pull yourself up, coming closer to him until you bite his shoulder, leaving marks over his neck as well as you can under the raging pleasure. “Or you can listen now, before I make you regret it.” You roll your hips against his, relishing in the quiet groan that leaves him as the delicious friction threatens to drown you both in pleasure.
Honestly, in the face of Jungkook’s ministrations, you find it’s all too easy to let yourself loose, to wantmore.
You’re surprised when he bends, pushing you back down - and the flash of pain and pleasure on the inner part of your thighs makes you hiss.
“What are you doing?”Jungkook’s answer is light, but the cocky tone is all too evident anyway. “Didn’t you challenge me to make you cum?” Another hickey blooms on your thighs and you whimper as he leaves a trail of them on his way down. “So I’ve made it my mission to make you cum as much as I can tonight.” You feel his nose nudge your panty and you can’t help groaning in anticipation. “Starting with eating you out.”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“A-Ah, I’ve never been eaten out before,” you stammer, heart beating fast as you can clearly feel his hair brush against your skin. Lust, excitement, and yet also nerves envelop you then.
For some reason, you can’t help but feel a little self conscious. No one, not even your past boyfriends have done this, after all.
Still, Jungkook only chuckles. “How mean. There I was, making you drinks the whole night, but you won’t even let me have a taste of you now that I’m thirsty.” You can’t see him over the skirt you’re wearing- why, again, are you still wearing it- but you can imagine the chiding smile, the mischief in his eyes. Especially when you feel him blow on you down there, making you shudder.
“Look, you’re even overflowing. Bet you’d taste sweeter and better than any wine here.”
With that, your skirt is taken off, and you gasp as you suddenly taste something on your lips. Yet that isn’t the end of it as for some reason, you suck on his fingers, imagining it to be his cock.
Fuck, you taste good.
Just as that thought reaches you, you think- you want to taste him too.
“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks you again. “I’ll make you feel good.” There’s a chuckle in his words, but before he can say anything more, you tug him up.“Wanna taste you too,” you admit, before blushing. Still, you continue. “So get up here.”
“On the bar top? Kinky,” he grins, but follows your instructions. Moving so that your whole body is laid down on the bartop, you hiss as the cool temperature of the glass makes itself known to your thighs. Not for long though- as the warmth of Jungkook’s body envelops you moments later.
In this position, Jungkook’s crotch faces you, and you find your mouth watering over it. Eager hands cup it for a moment, before you pull down the zipper and admire his member.
God, even his dick is pretty.
Long and veined, what it lacked in girth, the slight curve certainly made up for it. You immediately took it into your mouth, moaning around it when you felt him move your panties to the side and immediately dived in.
On Jungkook’s side - he loves it, every single second of it. He loves how he can make you a mess, how he can wreck you, you bucking up your hips to meet him as you suck and moan around his dick. There is something about you that he couldn’t help but be attracted to. He can’t believe your ex had cheated on you. Just from that moment in which you confronted your ex, he could sense that you were far, far more better than any girl he had ever seen.
Moans and whimpers filled the room as you tremble under Jungkook. Every lap of his tongue, sucking on your nub- hell, just the way he moves his tongue inside your walls is enough to make you push your thighs together.
The pleasure inside you only rises higher and higher, making you continuously grind your hips against his face. True, it’s the first time someone’s eaten you out, but all the same you know you wouldn’t cum just from it if the other person wasn’t good enough.
Jungkook aims to go beyond your expectations it seems. In response, you take him in even deeper, slightly gagging on his dick. One hand reaches out to fondle his balls, rolling them over your hand. Soft, pliant in your hold. You squeeze them slightly, and a sense of accomplishment fills you as you feel him physically stutter, thrusting his dick deeper into you. Jungkook is obviously way more experienced though, or perhaps it’s a sense of competitiveness that’s driving him to make sure you come first, because as you feel something inside you continue to tighten - you pant, recognizing the signs of an impending orgasm. A distant part of you is amazed you could reach an orgasm so quickly - the other is very, very pleased.
“I’m… so close,” you say through uneven breaths, chasing your high. His tongue works at an even faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. Your walls tighten around his finger, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel it. “Then come for me, sweetheart,” you hear him say.
And that does it.
White warmth, inside and out. Your lower body jerks against him, but Jungkook only rides out your orgasm with you, lapping up the juices that gush from you, the messy sounds of slurping and sucking turning you on even more, if that’s possible. You feel feverish, your oversensitive clit being given a little too much attention. What more, the feeling of your body contrasting against the cold surface of the bartop, shivering a little when his finger traces the curves of your body as you continue to feel the last trembles from your orgasm.When
he finally leans back, Jungkook smiles at the glistening digit and licks his fingers clean. You taste even better than he thought. Truly, you’re an angel. Just as he prepares to get off of you, you give one good suck to his dick, making him jerk. For you, you can feel his hard member twitch in your mouth - and it doesn’t take much to figure out that Jungkook himself is close to release. Still, as he lets out a quiet groan, he moves away. You make to protest, but-
The way he quickly moves on top of you, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt and grinding his member against your core makes you moan, long and loud.
“I don’t wanna cum just yet,” his voice is distinctively lower now, and something heady rushes through you at the realization that you did that. He hisses when you experimentally roll your hips back against him.
Hunger like you’ve never known spreads across you like a wildfire. You want all of what Jungkook has to offer.
“You ready, sweetheart?” He cooes. “You’ll have to be quiet if I put it in, don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful you sound when I’m fucking you thoroughly.”
Instead of answering, you meet him up in an eager kiss, your hands spreading across his chest - God, you don’t know when he unbuttoned his shirt, but you’re definitely thankful he did. Otherwise, how could you so clearly feel the muscles on his smooth skin?
And then you feel him enter you and fuck.
If what you felt before was something new, then this was definitely out of this world.
Jungkook’s dick fills you up just perfect, the wetness of your vagina and the slick on his dick makes the slide inside so much smoother, and both of you sigh in pleasure. For a moment, you’re both content to lie like that, just basking in the feeling of being connected to each other.
He himself doesn’t know how to explain it, how you differ from others. Everything you do somehow seems to draw him in, and in this moment- he feels like he could just stay like that forever and be content.
You, on the other hand, feel different.
“Jungkook, please, move already,” you eventually plead. Your body arches up as he pulls out for a moment, before beginning to thrust his hips into you at a fast rate, clearly giving you no mercy. Fuck, how in the hells did you ever think any previous sex you had could compare with this?
It’s easy to lose all coherence in this moment, the overwhelming feeling of bliss making you think of nothing but Jungkook’s dick, and the way he drags it against your walls, teasing you before slamming it inside, drawing out the pleasure and then drowning you in it.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounds in the empty room, alongside your mixed groans and whimpers. Jungkook spares you no mercy, and you soon find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. It doesn’t help that you feel him leave hickeys over your chest, biting and then soothing them afterwards, sliding his tongue over them. Tears prick your eyes as the pain and the pleasure mix together, making each feeling all the more intense to you.
Fuck, where had he been all your life? You’ve never felt so good in sex- not like this, not with your previous encounters. But right here and right now, you swear that if there’s a god, then Jungkook must have been his favorite, and you were blessed to have been touched by him.
“J-Jungkook, I-I’m coming again-!” Rather than slow down, it seems your words just urge him to fuck you harder, faster, making you sob as another wave of pleasure threatens to drown you under.
“Then come all you want,” he growls, dragging you into a fierce kiss, wanting to taste you- but also to silence you.
“A-Ah!” You scream out, panting, as you ride another wave of orgasm-
The harsh smack on your bottom makes you jerk off the table with a sob. Jungkook hisses as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty- but not for too long, as you’re turned over, and he shoves his cock back inside your hole. You moan, long and loud in pleasure, before you feel another smack on your bottom.
“What part of ‘keep quiet’ didn’t you understand?” He reprimands you sternly, each word accentuated by a hit on your bottom that makes you jerk, each time. “I told you to be quiet, or we’d both get in trouble. There’s still the club’s bodyguard standing outside. If he heard us, how much do you want to bet he’d come in and see your pretty little body all laid out under me, huh?”
“I-” You try to explain, but end up heaving deep breaths instead as he thrusts his hips particularly hard, leaving you a whimpering mess as you drop your head onto the table again, the ache at the back of our head barely being addressed by your numb mind.
“Youwhat?” He growls, hands snaking forward to pull your head back with your hair- making you groan as he lowers himself right next to your ear. “You what, Y/N? Got nothing to say right now?”
He tsks. “Or maybe him seeing you is what you want. How many hours has it been since we just met, and how you’re gladly taking up my cock in your cunt right now? I guess you’re nothing but a slut.”
“I-I,” You try again, but all that remains in your head is him calling you a slut. The humiliation it draws from you, reddening your cheeks, somehow only serves to make you feel even more aroused. You can’t think of anything else, but how to just push yourself back into Jungkook’s dick because clearly, he is drawing it out and depriving you of what you need!
“What are you, Y/N?” his voice is hoarse as he asks, his dark hair a mess that covers his beautiful face. “…Wanting others to see you looking so pretty for me,” the knot in your stomach tightens as you try to think of a reply, yet nothing comes. Fuck fuck fuck.
“I don’t, I-” you stop. You can’t, you just can’t, if you don’t get what you want right now, you might as well die.
“Disappointing,” he clicks his tongue dismissively, and you feel your eyes burn out of desperation. “And here I thought you’d be good for me?”
“I’m sssssorrryyyy!” You whine out when he won’t let you off, the tears falling down your face now. “I’m a slut! A fucking slut! Your slut,” you cry out. “P-Please, put it back innn!”
“Mm, I still don’t know,” he drawls. “I already warned you to be good earlier, but you just kept on pushing me. And now you clearly disobeyed me. Only good girls, not sluts, get rewards, don’t you think?”
“I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, whimpering. “Please, I can be good, so please-!”
Hands rub your bottom, a slight sting reminding you that he’d already hit you there earlier. Yet somehow all it did was make you even more sensitive to not just the pain, but also heightening the pleasure you felt.
“If you take your punishment obediently, I might let you off,” he suddenly offers. Jungkook’s voice has become sweet again, soft and sticky and coaxing. Not that you need it though, considering he has you in his palms either way.
Not to mention that the thought of the punishment at hand makes your core throb.
You bite your lips, hoping that he doesn’t see how flushed you are. You don’t doubt that you’re dripping down so much on the glass bartop that at this point, that there must be a puddle right below your cunt. But at the thought of what he’s about to do, you feel yourself secreting even more. “Oh?” He chuckles, dragging a finger along your clit. At this point your labia are puffed up, swollen with Jungkook’s relentless attacks on it, but still it doesn’t hide how aroused you are at this moment. All it is is overly sensitive, and still asking for more.
“Seems to me that you like that, huh? I guess I was right. Being good doesn’t suit you at all, slut,” he tsks. “You just wanted to get punished.”
“I-I can take it,” you meekly tell him, shaking your ass a little. At the sight, Jungkook smirks wickedly. “Alright then. I want you to count each strike, sweetheart. And if you lose count, we’ll be starting all over again. … Do you understand that?”
Near the end, you hear Jungkook’s tone soften, and it’s all too easy to hear the way out he’s offering you. You want it, though. “H-How many?”
He pauses, before continuing. “How many do you think you deserve?”
You swallow loudly. “I… I don’t know.” You bite your lips. “I’ve, uh- I’ve never been spanked like this before.”
You feel embarrassment course through your veins for a moment as Jungkook freezes, and you wonder if you should’ve just said a random number-
But then the loud smack of a hand against your ass rings out loud in the room, and you jerk wildly against the bartop, a silent scream in your throat.“Until I say stop, then. That was one already,” Jungkook purrs.
You whimper, but nod along as he starts.
Smack!
“Two!”
Smack!
“T-Three!”!
Smack!
“F-Four,” you whimper.
At each hit of his hand against your ass, you can’t help moaning, louder with each one. Jungkook’s hands are swift, and absolute- no mercy left for you, only his feather-light gentle caresses after each hit making you weep.
At the eight count, you’re absolutely gone, panting, a mess of tears and pain and pleasure and overall just too fucking sensitive. But the sheer amount of thrill and joy that settles in you as Jungkook finally stops is just short of euphoria, and you look up at him, your eyes pleading for his praise and reassurance.
Sure enough, Jungkook doesn’t disappoint.
He slides you off the counter and into his arms, your legs crossed around his, into a long, sweet kiss, swallowing up the sounds that leave your lips, the little whimpers and groans.
“You took your punishment so well,” he compliments you as he pulls back, making you preen. “I suppose you deserve a reward then, don’t you?”
“P-Please,” you plead, rutting your core against his erect cock. It slides against your core all too easily, making you groan. Still, you don’t dare put it inside, waiting for Jungkook’s permission first.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins, and-
Jungkook’s kiss swallows up the scream that leaves you as he thrusts back into your hole in one smooth movement, bringing you back into that land of sheer pleasure and lust.
In this position, held up in the air only by his arms, you keenly feel every movement of his cock inside you as he bounces you, forcing you to go up and down repeatedly. You’re almost delirious, your hands no doubt leaving scratch marks on his body as you hold him as tight as you can, feeling everything just too much.
It doesn’t take more than a minute or two to bring you to your third orgasm. It seems that Jungkook himself senses that as well, because the moment you feel it coming, he speeds up his thrusts again, making you scream.
“J-Jungkook!!” You wail out his name as one final jerk of his hips brings you crashing down, bliss enveloping you fully as you almost white out, spasming and losing control of your body for a moment.
When you come to, a second later, you feel him desperately moving in you, but the stuttered way he does so tells you all you need to know.
“W-Where should I cum?” He grits the words out his teeth, and you hiss in pleasure, in over-sensitivity and pain as his member remains inside of you even after you’ve orgasmed for the third time. You’re determined to get him to come as well though, something warm blazing in your chest. You don’t owe favors, and you won’t anymore, so maybe that’s the reason why.
For whatever reason it truly is, though, you tell him with a steady voice. “Just come inside me,” you give him permission. Jungkook groans at that, looking straight at you, as if to ask, are you sure?
You nod, drawing him into a sweet kiss. There’s nothing but elation inside you at this moment.
When you squeeze his member inside your cunt, you moan as you feel him paint your walls white, something hot and warm and sticky filling up your cunt. If your nails didn’t leave marks before, well, they had to by now.
It’s only when you feel it drip out of you that you finally pull back from the kiss.The both of you are panting, visibly exhausted, though you’re pretty sure Jungkook can still run a lap around the club, while you’re all ready to collapse on the floor. Fuck, where does he get all that stamina from?
“I work out at the gym.” The amusement visible in his eyes as he answers you tells you that you probably spoke out loud. Sheesh.
“Yeah, you were.” Jungkook’s chuckle brings your attention back to him, and you blush for the first time since a while now, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder. Honestly, if you tried to move right now, you don’t doubt you’d just lay down on the floor, so you opt to remain in his hold.
That decision definitely wasn’t influenced by how secure you felt in his arms, or how good he smelt, even after you both just had sex.
His chuckles turn into laughter- and you’re only dimly aware of it as he sets you down on a nearby sofa, grabbing a washcloth nearby to start wiping you off.
When you look down at him again- it’s as if he’s seamlessly switched back to the adorable guy you met earlier. Huge, doe eyes and bunny smile on display as he grins happily.
It’s then that you hear the door to the bar being clicked open, and you’re thrown back into reality.
“If you’re done fucking on top of the bar, I think it’d be good if we officially wrap things up around here,” you see a blond man barge through, wearing a poker face despite the words that make even more heat rise up to your cheeks. The connotations of the sentence… you’ll ignore that.
“And I think that included your dick, but okay,” he eyes Jungkook warily. He looks at you for a brief moment, before clicking on his tongue as he shakes his head.
“Anyway, out of this place, both of you, before Seokjin-hyung threatens to kill me again for not being a good enough caretaker.”
“And what exactly were you doing while we were… in here, Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook raises a brow out of suspicion.
“Sleeping. Now hurry up.”
Peals of laughter escape Jungkook, even as both your cheeks redden at being caught.
“Alright, alright,” Jungkook reassures him, before turning back to you. “Let me just finish up cleaning that mess, and we’ll get you home for real,” he tells you softly. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lays you down to rest.
“Take a quick nap in the meantime, okay?”
Giggling under the blanket of the dark night, you run under the bright stars as the stars reign the heavens above your heads. With Jungkook hand in hand, you experience freedom like you’ve never felt before.
The gentle breeze of the cold wind at 2 am, in perfect contract to the feel of his warm hand enveloping yours is the sweetest sensation, one of accepting, letting go and moving forward.
You swear you’ve never laughed like you do when you dash through the abandoned streets of neighborhoods too hazy for you to remember in detail. His laugh rings in your ears like the song of an angel, a far cry from your own booming on
Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale | Walkthrough
↳ Banner and dividers made by @kim-seok-jin. Thank you^^.
✉Titles:
➝Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale
➝Stygian (the madness corrupts me, and you, my saviour)
Though Alice ‘Y/N’ Liddell is overshadowed, and she doesn’t seem to think much of it, she yearns for a world which notices her- gives her a chance- a part of her wanting for a turn to be on the pedestal. But of course, nothing can change that-
Or can it?
One chance encounter with a boy with bunny ears and a strange hole, and she arrives at the world of Wonderland- a world of magic, mystery and madness. Protecting her life is one thing, but-
What more when everyone seems determined to capture her heart?
➠ Genres: Angst, fantasy, alice in wonderland!au, reverse harem, isekai (teleported to a fantasy world), mystery
➠ Overall Rating: PG-18
➠ Warnings: Violence, suicide, comatose, disturbing scenes, weapons, fights, yandere, insanity, mental illnesses, torture, massacre, serial killers, violent riots, executions, murders, large amount of people die, stalking, people lead other people on, threats, madness (but it’s wonderland so), tea parties and the white rabbit
✉ Beta-player [a.k.a. me, blog writer and walkthrough maker!] comments:
Several crashes may occur while playing the game, as the developers told me. This is still a beta version of the game, after all! The game also contains a lot of violence… hrmm, well, you’ll see for yourself. I’ve been told not to give too many spoilers, but the developers hinted to me that as the player, we have a special power!
If you complete a route, you don’t have to continue to the next one. You can pick whichever route you’re on and make it your true end. When that option pops out in the game, and you pick yes, Wonderland will close, and Alice and her suitor will be able to leave! It’s our choices while reading that matter!
Or… at least that’s what they said. Still, I’d warn you guys to be careful in choosing! This game is tricky, and it has several bad ends too… ah, I shouldn’t spoil anymore. This is an online game, so I put the links below if you want to play the beta version too! Careful though~ It links straight to the prologue, so for any players replaying, just choose the route after!
Oh, and one last thing- though all of the main cast are dateable characters; it’s of course, only one character per route though… or is it? Hehehe!
If you go through all routes, you might get a secret ending! Bonus scenes! So complete the full game when it comes out, okay?
No, the developers totally didn’t ask me to say all that to promote the game~
Have fun playing, and I hope this walkthrough helps you!
Jungkook was meant to be just a guilty pleasure. Notyour guilty pleasure, but a guilty pleasure. You knew never to fall in love with a man that thought loyalty was showing up on time. He was everything you never needed, but here you were. Your fingers pressed on the trigger that would start the flame of pain.
>>Pairing: Jeon Jungkook (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | fuckboy!jk x witch!reader
>>Word Count:7.5k
>>Genre: Mini Series / Smut & Angst
>>Warnings/Kinks: Arguments, breast play, creampie, cum play, disloyalty, degrading, exhibitionism, fingering, hair pulling, marking, oral (receiving), praise, unprotected sex, and witchcraft
Jungkook was too beautiful for his own good.
From his pouty lips and sharp jaw line to his starry eyes. The man was perfection.
Even you had fallen for him, a woman that stopped believing in love.
But, all you could do now was remember the times you had together as the fire slowly burns in front of you.
As your love for Jeon Jungkook disappeared into nothingness.
Your fingers typed away at the keyboard, writing the second of three essays you had due. It was nearing the end of the semester and, while you were ecstatic at the mere thought of summer vacation, the stress of exams was looming over you.
“Can you look over this paragraph for me?”, you peeked up over your laptop and nodded, moving your own device out of the way to make room for Namjoon’s. Kim Namjoon was a journalist in the making, a man that knew exactly how to put events into words. He was quite different from you, but study sessions together were always eventful. You were the perfect person to correct his grammar mistakes or to help add detail to his work and he was the perfect person to help explain a certain historical detail you may have missed.
Studying religions was what you had decided was your interest considering your uniquepractice. You enjoyed learning about the beliefs of people centuries ago but the facts could get scrambled in your brain and that’s where Namjoon came in. He almost seemed to have a never ending timeline in his brain.
“I’d add more emphasize on Jungkook. He did beat the record after all”, you quickly realized when you read the paragraph that he was writing for the school paper again. Despite your attempts to persuade the man that he could do much better with his time, he continued to write for it.
“That’s true. Wait, how did you know about that?”, you let out an amicable chuckle. Of course Namjoon would assume you did not know. Just because you despised sports did not mean you were deaf. The whole school had been talking about the student since the track meet. While you couldn’t remember the exact record he beat, it was still a record.
“People talk”, you shrugged and Namjoon nodded. It was peaceful for a moment as you went back to typing, managing to push aside your emerging migraine. Your body was begging for a good nap, but you had to get this done. You were, among less appealing qualities, a hard worker. Perhaps it was due to the pressure put on you as a child or maybe it was because that diploma was just out of reach. Either way, nothing was going to get in the way of your future.
And, like the biggest fuck you from the universe, Jeon Jungkook walks in.
Yet, you hadn’t realized and kept typing until Namjoon cursed loudly, drawing you out of your world.
“Are you okay?”, your voice was soft before your eyes met the issue. Oh, poor clumsy Namjoon.
He had spilt his coffee all over his shirt, staining the freshly new white blouse he had worn. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dug in your bag for a napkin.
“Don’t bother, it’s too much for a napkin. I’ll go to the restroom. Be right back”, you gave him a brief nod and a thumbs up. Still, you got up with your little pack of napkins and tried to clean up the remaining coffee staining into the table. The librarian is sure to kill you both if it does end up staining the wood. Standing back to examine your work, you almost screamed.
Standing by your laptop was a tall figure with the most sinister smirk you’ve ever seen.
Jeon fucking Jungkook spilt your coffee all over your notes and laptop.
Your mouth hung open for a moment before fury overtook the shock. You stomped up to the broadly built man and yes you didn’t believe in violence as a solution but all you wanted to do was slap the smirk right off his gorgeous face.
“Why did you do that?”, you also wanted to yell but the librarian was already eyeing the table and you couldn’t draw attention to the mess.
“Because I like to watch you suffer, sourpuss”,how have you not killed the man in front of you? You had no idea. Because that name infuriatedyou.
You knew it was the student’s way of messing with you, wanting to strike that minuscule nerve inside of you. No one else believed you could get angry but Jungkook knew you could. Mostly because he had caused that anger.
“And why is that? Because Jimin told you another lie about me?”, Jeon Jungkook was so impossibly similar to Park Jimin that it was uncanny who he had learned his traits from. Truth be told, you had the smallest crush on the man in front of you during freshmen year. He was so affectionate, caring, and friendly back then.
But, instead of ending up with the sweet heartthrob, you had ended up with Jimin for that year and the next.
Starting out, he was simply a popular boy and loved you with his whole heart. But, time went by and his true colors shun through like the sunlight through your irritatingly useless blinds. He was a playboy. An awfully good one at that for you to have never noticed the extra pairs of undergarments that laid on his floor when you slept over at his dorm.
He cheated, but he blamed it all on you and even Jeon Jungkook hates your guts because you were sure Jimin had told him exactly what he had told most of your friends. That you had broken his heart with your “horrifying” witchcraft and that you were dangerous. It explained why so many students asked to see your devil shrine the next day or tried to barge into your dorm to look at what Jimin talked about.
The most ironic thing was that you had never used magick around the man and you barely used it to begin with. You supposed it was for good reason considering that happened the first time you told someone about it.
“Jimin doesn’t lie. He’s never lied to me and I’m sure you’re well aware of what you did”, his finger jabbed harshly above your breast, just slightly lower than your collarbone. Among many things, Jungkook was dense and forgetful. You noticed that quickly when you started spotted reminders written on his fingers or palm. Just like the little note saying “library 7pm” was written on the finger jabbing you.
Unless the track star had another reason to be in the library he never visited, he wrote that down just to catch you in time.
“Tell me, Jeon. What did I do?”, you tilted your head and moved away from him, realizing the coffee was now leaking onto the floor. You desperately wished Namjoon would hurry up and get back to help you.
“You broke his heart. Using magick or something”, you bit your lips in annoyance and turned around to face him.
“Or something? Jungkook, I never did anything to Jimin. I know you won’t believe it because you look up to him like some god, but he cheated on me.He broke myheart”, you jabbed back, hitting the same spot he hit you, “and, if you haven’t noticed, Jimin doesn’t seem heartbroken, does he?”. If he dared to say yes you may have to use that horrifying magick Jimin lied about because your ex was anything but heartbroken. He was with a new woman almost every night and, even with this knowledge, they lined up to be with him. Who could deny the charming Park Jimin?
Finally, Jungkook shook his head, his curly black hair bouncing as he did the movement. If he wasn’t such a nuisance, you might’ve wished you could run your fingers through it. It looked so fluffy.
“Then, leave me alone. It’s been yearsof your torment and I’m tired of it”, you sighed and slung your bag over your shoulder after shoving your slightly wet laptop into it, walking out of the library after sending a text to Namjoon that you had felt bad because no one really knew about your fights with Jungkook and Namjoon would surely try to beat his ass if he found out about it.
Leaving the coffee on the table was a bold move but a part of you hoped that the asshole would clean it up. It was hismess after all. Not your’s.
“You’re coming to the track meet, right?”, the voice startled you and you sat up on your bed, making direct eye contact with Kim Taehyung. The only guy with a key to your dorm.
“Tae, I love you but you know I do not do sports”, you grumbled and flopped back onto your bed. Your classes had you beat and the need for a nap was too great to give up. Even if it was for your best friend.
“I know but it would mean so much if you were there”, don’t do it. Don’t do it.
You did it.
You made direct eye contact with those big puppy eyes Taehyung always used to get his way. You had fallen victim once again.
Which was why you had ended up in the cold, shivering as you watched the team run around the track for what felt like an eternity.
Taehyung had done great considering he barely moved before the season but who really stood out was Jungkook. His back muscles were only moments away from ripping through the flimsy shirt he was wearing and sweat was coating his hair. He was aware of how good he looked. He always was. He even was ballsy enough to wink at one of the girls screaming his name in the crowd.
Thankfully, the pleasant bliss that was drinking kept your mind off how irritated you were. You had snuck in a beer to drink (not that everyone else didn’t) and the alcohol loosened you up a bit.
After the meet was over, a sweaty Taehyung was clinging to you like a massive koala. He was high off adrenaline and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to cuddle or jump around.
“Tae, take this before you pass out on top of me”, you handed him a water and he gratefully took it, still leaning against you as he chugged down the drink.
Taehyung and you were polar opposites. He was an athlete, quite dorky, a great singer, and was overly optimistic. You, on the other hand, liked to keep to yourself, was not the best of singers, and always stuck to the reality of things. Even if you could manipulate that reality the tiniest bit.
“Let’s get you home”, you let the man lean his weight on you tiredly as you started to walk towards the exit of the field.
“Sourpuss, I need to talk to you”, that voice was definitely not the one you needed to hear when you were this tired and already agitated. What does a girl have to do to spend time in her bed?
“I’m a little busy if you haven’t realized”, you gestured to Taehyung, who was breathing directly on your neck and nuzzling his nose against the skin. It wasn’t an odd gesture considering your close friendship but his face was so cold it send goosebumps down your spine.
“I’ll help”, Jungkook offered, quickly coming to your rescue by crouching down and getting Tae on his back. The man grumbled but was happy to take the ride considering it was less soreness for his legs to endure the next day.
TheJeon Jungkook helping? What a trip.
“What do you want?”, you winced at how rude it sounded. Sure, Jungkook most definitely deserves said rudeness, but he was helping you.
“I’m sorry”, you legitimately thought you were hearing things and turned your head to look at him, stopping in your tracks.
“Can you say that again? I don’t think I heard you correctly”, the athlete groaned before turning to look at you, frustration evident on his face.
“I’msorry.You were right about Jimin. He’s been talking shit behind my back for months and I had no idea”, if it wasn’t for your “told you so” attitude, you would’ve felt sorry for him. Jimin was one of his closest friends after all.
“Hate to say I told you so but”, he glared at you to shut up and you quickly did. His glare was so cold that a shiver went up your spine.
“Sorry, it was a joke. Jimin is really manipulative so don’t let him bring you down”, you reassured him, even bringing your hand up to pat his shoulder. By the way he flinched away, you would’ve assumed your hand was made of lava.
Noted. Jungkook hates being touched.
“I assumed so much about you and that was immature of me”, the man smiled softly at you. It felt like arrows pierced your heart. He had such a cute smile for an asshole. Like a bunny.
“It’s fine. Lots of people assume things about me”, you shrugged as you both started walking again, Taehyung looking down at you to make sure you’re okay. He was like your protective older brother and you couldn’t be more thankful to have him around.
“But they shouldn’t. So what if you follow a different religion? It doesn’t mean you’re evil”, that was probably the first time someone agreed with your practices besides Taehyung and Namjoon (mostly because he understood it better than others).
“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot”, you finally smiled back at him, sending his heart right into his chest as his heartbeat picked up. Needless to say, he adored your smile.
“I hate to ask this of you but could you tutor me on Epidemiology? I regret ever taking it and I’ll pay you”, you were wide-eyed with shock to say the least. You didn’t expect Jungkook to go out of his way to learn. Especially, notwith you.
“Sure, you can join Namjoon and I in the morning”, you nodded before you saw the way Jungkook’s nose crinkled up in displeasure.
“What? What’s wrong with that?”, he sighed in response to the question as you both reached your dorm building. You’d just let Tae stay with you for the night.
“Namjoon hates my guts. We’re way too different. Besides, aren’t you two dating? I don’t want to be some third wheel”, Jungkook almost sounded disgusted at the idea, probably imagining you making out with Namjoon in front of him.
“I’m not dating him. He’s just the only other intelligent male I can tolerate”, he seemed to relax once you finished speaking but there was still tenseness evident in his shoulders which wasn’t due to the large man on his back.
“I still don’t get along with him despite the fact that he writes about me all the time. He once yelled at me for cheating and wrote an article about it”, that was a slap right to your face. Right, Jungkook was a player and he could throw your feelings aside like one of his cigarettes. Do not get attached.
“Well, don’t cheat”, you said because, let’s be real, it’s the truth. You unlocked the door and helped Taehyung off of his back.
“Bye Koo, thanks again”, your words were quick and you kicked the door closed with your shoe, your hands full thanks to the oversized man child clinging onto you.
Koo.He liked that.
Weeks had ticked by and, somehow, Jungkook had managed to get your number. Honestly, Namjoon probably slipped it out or Taehyung gave it to him. According to Tae, the man had been oddly friendly to him and they were (borderline) friends now. They played video games together, practiced together, and even barged into your place for snacks together.
Great.Now you had two man-children to take care of and feed. It was definitely taking a chunk out of your paycheck each week to get extra snacks for the two. They ate like starving animals whenever they came over. A small part of you even thought it was just to piss you off even more.
Jungkook finally managed to get you to agree for a tutoring session with him. Just one.If this one went well then maybe you would agree to more.
The only sad thing about the session was that it was scheduled to happen right after your last class on Friday in your previous dorm. The dorm you had justfinished cleaning up since the last time the two adult toddlers had destroyed it.
Surprisingly, when you had woken up one morning, Jungkook was still there. You assumed he and Tae were too drunk to get back to their own dorms and had decided to just sleepover at your’s. It was quite annoying if you were to be honest, but the way Koo looked actually interested in your religion was enticing.
He didn’t look scared or disgusted when he looked at your little collection of crystals on your desk or the jar resting on your end table sealed with candle wax. If anything, he actually looked amused or even impressed.
“I’ll pick you up after class. I can’t believe you don’t drive and walk to your dorm every day”, Jungkook shook his head as he walked beside you. Coincidentally, your last classes were next to each other but you were shocked to hear him offer to give you a ride.
“Don’t judge me, Mr. Playboy. I just have a fear of hitting someone. Have you seen the lunatics at this campus? They will run out into traffic for fun”, the man chuckled wholeheartedly at the pout on your lips. Plus, your joke was actually pretty accurate. Even he had almost hit a drunk idiot when trying to get back to his dorm late one night.
“Okay, that’s fair. So, you okay with me driving you?”, you nodded cautiously. While Jungkook was guaranteed to know every path to your dorm by now, you were still guarded. Being in that tight of a space with him was going to be difficult.
No, you don’t get those so-called “butterflies” when you were with him. Honestly, those butterflies were typically a bad sign to you. Feeling sick because you loved someone sounded a bit odd and almost contradictory.
You actually found yourself with more powerful emotions than anything. If Jungkook made you angry, you were angry.If he made you happy, you were happy.
Everything just felt so much stronger when you were around him. Thankfully, he almost always made you happy. He made you laugh because, once he discovered that beautiful sound, he couldn’t get enough.
So, after your class, you met him out in the hall and he walked you to his car. Now you realized how such an undetermined man got into college.
He was filthy rich.
Sitting there in the parking spot was a brand new Mercedes Benz. Its black color almost matched the distinct leather jacket that he decided to wear today. It very much screamedJeon Jungkook.
However, it did not scream you whatsoever. You were almost afraid to get near it.
“Hop in. My grade isn’t getting any lower”, he opened the door for you and you weren’t sure if it was because you were friends, or whatever the fuck you two were, or if it was because he wanted a discount.
That’s not fucking happening. He’s already stolen plenty of money through snacks from your cabinets.
Meekly, you got into the vehicle, immediately buckling your seatbelt as if it was going to hurl itself into motion at any moment. Jungkook shut the door and went around to get into the drivers’ seat. Apparently he trusted his own driving so much that he never wore a seatbelt (Namjoon would’ve had a stroke if he was told that) and he drove with one hand (scratch that- make it two strokes).
Despite those things, he was an actual good driver. You felt safe and he drove the speed limit. Maybe it was just because you were in the car with him?
Getting out of the luxurious leather seats proved to be a hassle considering you knew your seats in your dorm were no where near as comfortable. You could sleep in that passenger seat without a care in the world compared to your own bed. Still, you forced yourself to get out and you two went up to your dorm. Jungkook is way too familiar with the place now considering he barely talks to you. It’s your place and, yet, he comes here for Tae.
“Alright, what unit do you need help on?”, you asked softly as you took the needed supplies out of your bag. You actually already took Epidemiology. It had nothing to do with your major but it was interesting to you. Who wouldn’t want to learn about the science of the world’s biggest killer: disease?
Jungkook simply looked at you, blinking a few times and pressing his tongue into his cheek in that nervous habit you realized he had.
“Oh- for fucks sake, Koo”, you grumbled as you realized how long of a process this was going to be.
It had been monthssince you began tutoring the student and, finally, there was progress.
Standing proudly with his shoulders back was Jeon Jungkook holding a test with a big number ‘92’on it in red ink. Your heart swelled with pride.
“I passed! This was the exam review test so I’ll pass the exam, right?”, you smiled brightly as you looked at his excited eyes. You never thought Jungkook would ever be excited over passing a class but you can’t judge people by their covers, right?
“Yeah! Just keep up with the studying and you got it”, you nodded quickly, looking away from his puppy eyes when you felt happiness engulf you like a fire.
Ironically, you were actually playing with fire. Your hand tugged on the trigger and a flame flickered from the end of your lighter. You brought it down and lit the candle in front of you. To be honest, you were a bit of a goodie two shoes but you did break one rule.
No fire in the dorms.
“Hey, I really wanted to thank you. I’m actually passing all my classes now and it fills like my life has purpose again”, woah, didn’t expect that.
“No problem, Koo. Your life always has purpose. What do you mean?”, you looked up from what you were doing, noticing he was leaning against the frame of your door.
“All I did was party and drink. Sure, I was a good athlete but that can only take you so far”, you nodded in understanding and stood up, walking towards him.
He followed your every move like prey waiting for the predator to attack them.
But, instead of an attack, he was met with a warm, genuine, and, all around, great hug.
“Do you think of me as everyone else does?”, you looked up at him, meeting his starry eyes.
Oh, you hated them because of how much you lovedthem. They held the galaxy within them and you could stare into them for hours if given the chance.
You were many things but, tragically for Jungkook, a liar wasn’t one of them.
“Honestly, I did before. I’ve seen you do some of the things the rumors talk about-“, smoking, cheating, fighting, “but now I know that’s not all you are. There’s more to you, Koo”.
All Jungkook had been able to think about was your words. Sure, he didn’t care about your opinion before but it truly did make him happy to know you thought better of him.
“Jk! Where have you been?”, oh no.
“Jimin? I’ve just been at the gym a lot”, lies.He had been with you a lot.
“Ah, I see. How’s the bet going?”, the shorter man asked, running his fingers through his precisely cut hair. What a born model.
The bet. The bet you had no clue about. The bet Jungkook was too dense to refuse.
“It’s going. She hugged me yesterday”, Jimin scoffed and then chuckled, vastly different sounds that almost made Jungkook double over in fear. Truth be told, he despisedJimin. He despised him because he scared him. The only other man more influential than him was Jimin and that meant Jimin could ruin his reputation in a matter of seconds.
“That’s all? Damn, she really is void of love”, the bet Jimin was referring to was the one he made with the younger at the beginning of the year.
“I bet you can’t make her fall in love with you. She didn’t even love me, Koo! Me! I’m telling you, if you make her fall in love with you then I’ll get you anything you want”.
Time was running out with exams coming up and Jungkook needed to hurry if he was going to win such a bet. But, was it worth it if it meant disappointing you? Jimin may be scary but you made him feel so happy and so proud.
The only time he had seen you disappointed was when Taehyung broke one of your jars, resulting in a mess of coins, herbs, and wax on the floor. That’s the day he decided he neverwanted to be on the receiving end of one of those looks.
“Yeah, she’s guarded which is understandable-“, wait- did Jeon Jungkook just grow some balls? “I’d be void of love too if everyone judged me for something I believed in”. He did.
“Where is that coming from? She deserves it, doesn’t she? Come on, JK. Keep that head in the game!”, Jimin patted his head like he was a child with all A’s on his report card, which, for once, was actually true thanks to you.
What game? You? Were you truly just a game to him?
“Alright, I’ve got this”, damn. Maybe you were.
Most nights you found yourself at the library now. It was the only place that was filled with peace and quiet. Especially on a Friday. Not even the librarian was here.
“Guess who”, hands covered your eyes and you would’ve punched the man behind you if you didn’t immediately recognize his husky voice. It was soothing with just the perfect mix of roughness. You couldn’t help but wonder what it sounded like when he just woke up.
“An asshole who thinks it’s okay to sneak up on women in a deserted place”, you grumbled and Jungkook immediately removed his hands.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”, oh here we go. Argument number two thousand.
“I wasn’t scared. I was just saying that, one, you’re an ass and, two, don’t do that to women”, he nodded in agreement and you thought that was the stopping of an argument. Boy, oh boy, were you wrong.
“I won’t anymore but you’re so weak. I’ve scared you so many times now”, you glared at him. Thanks to months of being by Jungkook’s side, you had become a bit more out of control. The feelings you used to keep caged up were now more out in the open. You cussed more often, even tried drinking (and almost spit it out on him), and your frustration was no longer hidden from the world.
“Jungkook, you are a menace to society and I would like it if you leaved”, it was a pointless threat. You didn’t really mean it. You adored his company but you wouldn’t admit that with a gun to your head.
“Liar, you love me”, shit.Did you? No, don’t ask that. It was just a joke.
Damn you and your overthinking.
“No, I hate you. Shut up”, that was also a useless threat. Jungkook never shut up. He was quite the talker and shutting up was not in his vocabulary.
“No, you hate me. Shut up”, he sat on the table you were previously working on, knowing this would take a while. Your arguments always lasted between thirty minutes to two or three hours. You both hated to back down.
“No, I love you. Shut the fuck up”, wait a second-
“As you wish”, he smirked victoriously and leaned closer, his face so close to your’s that you could smell his musky cologne.
“That was wrong”, you glared at him and he shook his head, “don’t open your mouth aga-“ you were cut off as his lips connected with your’s. He kissed you so intensely that your mind was fogged up, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
Finally, with your brain still hooked on adrenaline, your hands found their way to his cheeks, cupping his well defined face as you kissed back. You could feel him smile into the kiss before he pulled away, leaving a spark traveling down your body. Now, that’s a good feeling.
“Ah, I love when you shut the fuck up”, you were so close to beating him with your bag.
Everything was weird after the kiss. Life wasn’t some fairytale where you both lived happily ever after in some old palace somewhere.
No, you were both actually stuck in that “fuck, what are we?” mess.
Love wasn’t something you could control and that was why you never let it get that far, but, with Jungkook, it felt uncontrollable, spreading like wildfire.
So, you avoided him.
Of course, it wasn’t the most humane or easiest form of dealing with your feelings but it worked.
Well, for a little bit until Koo decided to block you off in the library, cornering you into the back section of the religious books. Oh, how ironic.
“What’s wrong?”, his voice made your knees want to give out. It was early and you assumed he woke up early just to catch you. His attire said that enough from his sweatpants to the tank top hugging his upper body. He obviously just threw something on before he left.
“What are you talking about?”, you tilted your head and tried to act innocent, but, once again, a liar you were not.
“Oh please, you’re obviously pissed off or scared of me or something”, bingo.You were horrified of what you were feeling and, in tune with it, Jungkook.
“I don’t know! Why do you even care? You’re obviously going to pass your exam so what am I needed for anymore?”, you winced at your own words, watching as the man’s usual bright expression turned into a sorrowful one.
“It’s much more than that, y/n”, that was probably one of the first times he had said your name. He usually called you nicknames like princess, sourpuss, or whatever else he came up with depending on his mood.
“Then what is it?”, the stare he gave you made you want to hide further into the corner. It was so predatory that your body was trying to fight its own instincts to run away and avoid the problem. You were always a flight over fight type of girl.
“You”, the one word made your eyebrows furrow, racking your brain for a response or understanding of what he meant. Jungkook shook his head as you watched your face twist in confusion.
“You’re so dense. Why would I kiss you if it wasn’t all for you?”, he leaned closer to you, hand resting on the shelf of the bookcase behind you. You silently thanked the universe that no one else was in there yet.
“Discount?”, it was the first thing you thought of and it caused a low chuckle to rumble out of Jungkook’s chest. He looked up into your eyes and it almost knocked the air out of you.
“Hmm, unless it’s a fuck buddy discount then I don’t think I want it”, he raised an eyebrow cockily and your eyes went wide. Little did Jungkook know that he just complicated your relationship even more.
“And what if I’m okay with making such a discount?”, the student practically groaned at the words, free hand finding its way on your hip, squeezing it. You don’t know where your new found confidence came from but you had gotten rather blunt since hanging out with Jungkook.
“Then I’d say you’re not the person I thought you were”, he hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear. The way his breath tickled your ear sent sparks through your body.
“Is that what you want? For me to take you here against these books?”, yes you did. Looking around, you were met with many versions of Bible and other holy books of all religions. It was absolutely filthy and wrong to do it there which was why it was perfect.
“Yes, I want that”, your nails dug into the wood behind you, trying to ground your emotions down. It had always been an escape tactic to you.
“How naughty”, now you understood why he had chosen today of all days to corner you. He lovedthe skirt you were wearing and how easily it gave access to everything delicious underneath. Plus, your legs were perfect to him.
His fingers danced along your thighs before he pushed up your skirt, revealing the black lace panties underneath. Oh, you knew what was going to happen today and you definitely knew Jungkook liked his black.
“So pretty. Just for me?”, the question took you off guard, your own questions flooding your brain. Ultimately, after a few moments of silence, you decided he probably had a possession thing. Who didn’t like to feel powerful?
“Just for you, Koo. Fuck, touch me please”, so you decided to feed his little ego, edging him on until he pulled the panties to the side to reveal your glistening pussy.
The dim light of the library truly didn’t do it justice but he couldn’t help himself from finding it to be also perfect. He was in deep shit now.
His long fingers ran down your slit until they reached their destination: your pussy. He rubbed around it before he slowly plunged his middle finger into the wetness, curling against your walls.
Fuck,you always hated that finger but with it inside of you? Maybe you could make an exception.
Your body shook in response to the stimulation since you hadn’t been touched in so long, your hands gripping the wood tighter to keep yourself steady. Jungkook smirked when you clenched around his finger before he added another, stretching you out wonderfully as he scissored you open.
And that was when Jungkook found his favorite sound in the world.
“Jungkook! Oh god”, you moaning his name sounded like music to his ears and he couldn’t get enough. The only thing he hated was how quiet it was since you were still conscious of the library around you. He wanted you to scream it.
“You like that, princess? You want more?”, you obediently nodded, not in the mood to be denied an orgasm (which you were sure Jungkook would do if you didn’t obey). The man chuckled and leaned down, still pumping his fingers steadily as if it took no effort at all. If you had done this yourself then your fingers would have been cramping by now.
Your body jolted when Jungkook’s plump lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly on the nerve as if he was starving. To be fair, he had skipped breakfast.
You feared for the books behind you as your body spasmed, orgasming on the man’s fingers. You took deep breaths once you were finished and watched as Jungkook pulled away, pulling his cum covered fingers out of you.
With prolonged eye contact, he slipped the digits into his mouth and sucked the juices off of them. A new wave of arousal went through you when he tapped your lips with them, making you open your mouth. You gagged briefly when they hit the back of your throat but you sucked on it, licking your way up his middle finger.
“Good girl”, now that was going to haunt you forever. You whined when he pulled his fingers away and he smiled teasingly at you.
“I’m going to need to see these”, your eyes went wide when he gripped the collar of your shirt and ripped it clean down the middle, tossing it aside as if it didn’t cost you a fortune.
“Jeon Jungkook! That was expensive”, you huffed but he paid you no mind, just reaching behind you to remove your bra too so it can join the rest of your clothes.
“What if someone sees? I can’t cover these up quickly, Koo”, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking around cautiously. Jungkook just laughed and pulled your arms away, pinning your wrists above your head so he can press his body against your own.
“Take my shirt off and you can put that over you for the day. It’s fine, sourpuss”, oh you would’ve slapped him if you weren’t so turned on. He let go of your wrists and you quickly removed his shirt for him, revealing a muscular chest you could’ve never imagined.
And he never imagined how beautiful you’d look with your hard nipples pressed against the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. He grabbed them immediately and you failed to see the spark in his eyes as he squished them together.
“That was one of my favorite shirts. What a di-“, you yelped when he pulled your leg up over his shoulder, yanked his pants and boxers down, and pulled your panties aside to rub his angry tip against your folds. Your head rested back as he rubbed against your clit, covering his cock in your juices.
“What a dick indeed”, Jungkook chuckled deeply, arousal blurring his world into nothing but you. The only thing that mattered at that moment was feeling you.
His lips attached to your neck and you were so out of reality that you didn’t realize he was littering the skin with his marks, a silent claim on you as he pushed himself inside of you.
“Oh shit, it’s exactly as I imagined. So tight and warm”, and he was just as you imagined. So very big. You didn’t think anyone else could stretch you out as much as Jeon Jungkook and that thought made you groan.
“You’ve been imagining it?”, it was your turn to smirk and, for the first time ever, the man in front of you blushed.
“Oh please princess. I know you’ve been thinking about it too”, and you had been. Not that you’d ever admit that after he just basically friends with benefits zoned you.
“Just move you asshole”, Jungkook gripped your hair, tugging on the soft strands as he finally kept pushing, bottoming out inside of you perfectly.
His big hands moved to grip your hips, a little help to keep you up as he started to snap his own into your’s. He was mildly uncomfortable at first but, as you adjusted to his size, bliss filled your body.
Finally, you were doing something to make yourself happy and pleased. Maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best man to do it but he was making you feel so so good.
The man snapped you out of your thoughts as he brought your hand down to your clit. You understood and started to rub it, happy knowing that Jungkook was also looking out for your own pleasure too. Not that you’d know he had been thinking about you creaming on his big cock for months now.
“Keep doing that”, he whispered despite the heavy groan that threatened to come out. He was referring to the uncontrollable clenching you were doing around his dick, sucking him into your walls with each muscle movement. You listened and (despite knowing you were going to keep doing it anyways) clenched once again.
“Can I cum inside?”, you whimpered at the idea of Jungkook’s cum filling you up and, knowing you’re on grade A birth control, you nodded. While Jungkook was effortlessly attractive, kids were not part of your plans by far.
“You close too, princess?”, you nodded, a small moan spilling past your lips despite your best efforts to be quiet. With that knowledge, the man orgasmed and you could feel his seed start to coat your insides. The feeling made you tumble over into your own orgasm, coating his softening cock with your release.
“I think that’s the best sex I’ll ever have”, you praised him as you tried to put your cramping leg down off his shoulder. Instead, he held it tighter and pulled himself out of you. He watched as his cum started the spill out of you, dripping down your thighs beautifully.
So, he’s a man who likes to admire his work.
You almost screamed when he pushed it back inside of you with his finger due to the sensitivity.
“See you later, sourpuss”, Jungkook smirked and put your panties back to their original position before he pulled his own boxers and pants back up. He walked off and you were left gobsmacked with his cum dripping out of you onto your panties.
As the weeks passed by, the world became more vibrant and cheerful but also more chilling and worrisome.
Exams were over and you were free to go wherever you pleased but, somehow, you always found yourself wanting to be with what was supposed to be your secret guilty pleasure. Now, he was your everything. He truly brought color into your world; sadly, color always comes with black and white.
“I won the bet, Jimin. I want what I asked for”, you listened intently from the other aisle of books. The library had become your go to spot to find Jungkook. Surprisingly, the once unmotivated student was more frequently in here because of the sheer relief he got when you stood before him with a proud smile. What a softy.
“Really? She fell for you? Damn, you still got it. I can’t believe you asked for thisthough”, the disgust in your ex’s voice was evident and you so desperately wanted to see what he was referring to. You truly thought Koo had stopped being friends with Jimin after he apologized but apparently you were wrong about a lot of things. Most of all, you were wrong to love again.
Feeling your tears start to spill down your cheeks for the first time in years,you forced yourself out of the library. You should’ve seen it coming. What would a playboy want with you? A woman looking for a serious relationship? You’re an idiot and you’ll fix it.
Said playboy must’ve spotted you because you could hear his heavy footsteps behind you as you rushed out of the library, hurrying into a run with the safety of your dorm in mind. It was time to endthis.
So, here you were. Remembering everything from the past few months as the candles in front of you burned, getting so desperately close to the string connecting them. You had carved an evident ‘JK’ on one and your initials on the other, bonding them to the people who needed to be apart from one another.
Watching his candle, you noticed the wax dripping down the long wick and you knew they were tears. You knew because of the loud banging coming from your dorm door, the man on the other side screaming and sobbing for you to let him explain.
Your candle, however, burned strongly with vengeance. It stood so tall compared to Jungkook’s and, as the fire finally burned through the string tying you both together, you felt free. It was like Jeon Jungkook had never affected you before and his name slowly slipped from your mind.
Eventually, the banging stopped as the candles reached their ends and the fire flickered out under your gaze. You felt so blissfully numb as you walked towards the door, opening it to reveal a confused Jungkook looking up at you.
“What did you do? It’s like-“, you cut him off with your hand, pulling him up rather roughly.
“You never knew me. That’s how I want it, Jeon Jungkook. You never knew me and I never knew you. Now, get your prize and leave me alone”, you slammed the door in his face. You felt pure relief but Jungkook could still feel a pang of want in his body.
You had failed to notice the little wax left of his candle that stood strong as you dumped it in the trash and he failed to notice that he had left his “prize” outside your door as he rushed off.
A gorgeous rose quartz necklace.
What a way to declare your love to a witch who just cut it all off.
언젠가는 나한테 고마워하게 될 거야. You’re going to be thanking me one day for this.
Description: [REQUEST: hey! i wanted to tell you that i really enjoyed tipsy. it would be so cool if you did a part II with scenes from the song writing process and the date.] A request for an extension of a request lol. This one is just the song writing process (mind you!!! I’m not an expert, I just went off what I’ve seen in behind the scenes videos of producers and my own experience of lyric writing so!!!). I might do another part with the date, though it may be on the shorter side! :D Enjoy xx Bonus points if you can guess the songs that are being ‘written’ before their titles are given (or not given). Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff, Idol!Jungkook x music producer!fem-reader Word Count: 4.2k
With one hand gripping my morning coffee {or tea or smoothie or whatever you drink}, my phone, and my ID card that got me into the building, I used my other and my full body weight to push open my studio door, the heavy bastard. I stumbled in and nearly spilled my coffee over my favorite grey sweatpants but my reflexes prevented the disaster. Setting everything down, I made my way around the room and flipped on the lights, turned on my equipment, and adjusted the temperature.
I lowered myself into my chair and glanced at the time while my computer screen awakened.
9:06 am.
There was also a text from Taehyung.
From Taehyung: Now you’re going on a date with him??
To Taehyung: Do you two share EVERYTHING?
From Jungkook: Be there in 20 minutes!
To Jungkook: Namjoon’s coming somewhere between 10 and 12 fyi
From Taehyung: Apparently yes, yes we do
With a little bit of time left until one or two of the members showed up, I decided to touch up a demo I hadn’t looked at in a while. I clicked on the locked folder and quickly typed in the password. The folder opened up and revealed the good sized list of documents with written lyrics. I scanned down the list for the one titled “Demo Attempt Thing #40 - Got That Heat.”
As that document loaded, I opened the file with the actual demo track.
From Jungkook: I know, we talked about it last night.
Oh god. Last night.
From Jungkook: How do you live with a melody stuck in your head?!
To Jungkook: I don’t. That’s why I’m always in the studio
Once the system is loaded and I arranged the windows how I wanted them on my three screens (yes, three), I hit play and listened to my (cringey) voice sing my written lyrics and read over the lyrics, looking for spots that were odd and marking them for later.
A couple of tweaks, and a few thesaurus searches, later and I was set to rerecord the lyrics I changed.
I set up the mic and the system and placed the headphones over my ears. With a final inhale, I pressed the space bar and lined my mouth up with the mic.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
Ooh, when I look in the mirror
I’ll melt your heart with my heat
I got that superstar glow so
Do the shimmy like
Pulling back, I hit the space bar again and the recording stopped. I chewed on my lip as I replayed the section back and wondered if it was good enough.
“Ehhhhh, good enough.” I mumbled to myself after listening to the part two more times.
Moving onto the next changed lyric, I set myself up the same before hitting the space bar.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
Swing like batter
Pull me in like no other
No need to rush it
I’m reminded I got it bad
I clicked the space bar again and listened to the new lyric. Liking what I heard, I replayed the whole song from the beginning, turning up the volume so it filled the room and so I could hear everything I needed to hear.
The only problem?
My ears were so filled with the demo that I didn’t hear the three knocks on the door, Jungkook calling my name, or my door opening and closing. I was too busy bopping my head along with the beat and focusing on the overall sound with my eyes closed.
Get it, let it roll!
My voice sang the last lyric with a weird squeal type tone and my eyes flew open in realization that it needed to change and it needed to change right then and there.
“Let it roll!” Jungkook’s voice loudly copying what he heard through the speakers quite nearly knocked me out of my chair.
“Who the hell???” I whipped around with a pencil gripped in my hand, eraser side up.
Jungkook unceremoniously dropped the backpack he was holding in his hands and raised both hands into the air. “It’s me. Jeon Jungkook. Part of the infamous KPOP group B-”
“I know who you are dumbass.” I cut him off, rolled my eyes and relaxed back into my seat, throwing the pencil somewhere onto my desk.
“You asked.” He chuckled and picked up his backpack.
“You didn’t have to scare the shit out of me.” I stated, leaning forward and saving my work before exiting out of the “Demo Attempt Thing #40 - Got That Heat” documents.
“Wait, wait, what are you doing?” Jungkook asked, pulling the extra chair to sit on my left.
“Exiting out of this track.” I answered in a bored monotone cause it should’ve been obvious.
“Why?” He continued to question my actions even though my screen was just showing my crowded desktop.
“Because this is one of the secrets that no one will ever see.” I leaned my cheek on my fist while looking at him.
He was also dressed in sweats and a shirt that looked six sizes too big for him which made his large frame look small, if that was even possible. His lips were pouting while scanning over my screens even though, again, there was nothing open.
“But I liked what I heard.” Jungkook said with a slight whine.
“Stop being nice.” I scoffed, “Where is that track you wanted to work on?” I quickly changed the subject.
Jungkook sighed like he wanted to continue to push the issue but he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a black flash drive instead.
“Thank you.” I thanked him with a singsong tone and plugged the flash drive into the computer. “What’s the title?”
“Doesn’t have one.” Jungkook shrugged and I raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “I just call it ‘Cup of Milk’.”
“Cup of milk?” I repeated the title and found it easily as it was the first one on the drive.
“I was drinking a cup of milk while working on it so I used it as a temporary title but then it just stuck.” He explained, “Sounds weird, doesn’t it?”
“No, actually sounds about right.” I agreed with him and watched as the instrumentals popped up on the screen. “Any lyrics for it?”
Jungkook shook his head, “Not yet.”
I nodded, “That’s alright. So, let’s get into it.”
We listened through it once before I asked, “Where did you need help with?”
“Here.” Jungkook took the mouse from me and started the track at the 2:07 minute, where a probable bridge would be constructed. He played it and the bass drums beat a steady funky rhythm.
At the 2:15 mark, the rhythm repeated itself before the bass dropped out and piano chords with a metalic-y techno echo picked up the same tempo. That too, repeated twice without much change before the bass reenters with the synth and a high gusto ending chorus feel.
I nodded along with the beats and enjoyed myself but I could instantly tell it needed a little something to feel more complete.
“You sense it too.” Jungkook concluded when he paused the track. “It needs something but I have no idea what.”
“Yeah, it does.” I agreed and sat back, thinking about what it needed.
“Like I honestly love the bass beat and the rhythms but it needs a little, like finesse.” Jungkook continued and emphasized the last word with a wiggle of his fingers.
I chuckled at his gesture but the motion gave me an idea.
“Trumpets!” I sat up and slapped a hand on his arm.
“Trumpets?” He said the word cautiously like it was glass on his tongue, “Do you think it’ll work?”
I shrugged and took my mouse back from him, “We’re about to find out.” I told him and clicked around till I found the right instrument.
“Play out the melody.” I instructed him and gestured to the keyboard underneath the computer monitors.
Jungkook wordlessly followed my instructions while I recorded the clip. The trumpets that played through the speakers were way too bright and brassy so I decided to pull back the brass and to make it more muted. When the levels were to my liking, I dragged the clip to the correct place and backtracked a few seconds to see how it would fit with the rest of the instrumental.
“Here we go.” I muttered and hit play.
The same bass beat played through the speaker for one count and when the second began, the trumpets sounded over them to create a fanfare feel. Jungkook lit up next to me but my heart wasn’t 100% satisfied with it.
“Oh! I like that!” Jungkook smiled widely while my lips pursed together. “I really like that.” He nodded like a child.
Tilting my head to the side, I played around with the effects of the trumpets. “Not quite right.”
I adjusted the levels of muting and brightness and reverb and played it back again. This time when the trumpets sounded, they felt more retro fanfare rather than 21st Century fanfare.
“That.” I pointed to the screen after I paused the track, “That is what I like.”
“Oooh, you’re right. That was better.” Jungkook rested his hand under his chin, in deep thought. “It fits better with the rest of the instruments. More retro-y.”
I nodded before asking, “Since when were you on a retro stint?”
Jungkook shrugged, “Again, cup of milk.” He reiterated with an expression that said 'how am I supposed to know?’
“Uh huh.” I absentmindedly voiced while looking for another instrument to add because it needed something over the piano chord counts. “Cup of milk. Was it at least chocolate?”
“Banana.” He corrected me.
“Ah, the famous banana milk strikes again.” I said and clicked on the electric guitar option.
Jungkook stayed quiet while I pressed different notes on the keyboard, searching for the perfect note. Once I found the note, I sat up straighter and tapped out the syncopated rhythm that I heard throughout the song.
“Oh, yeah, rock on.” Jungkook played the air guitar and scrunched up his face as if he was actually playing the instrument.
I watched him for a second before shaking my head and chuckling at him. “Gosh, you’re weird.” I muttered under my breath but Jungkook heard me and laughed at my comment.
“And yet you’re still here.” He bantered back and I truly had no comeback.
Instead, I dragged the newly created sound into the track and placed it where I wanted it before playing the whole section.
The synth-ed piano chords went through one full count and the second was joined by the electric guitar which amped up the whole feel. Building towards the final 'chorus’ section where the track exploded into retro fanfare glory.
“YES!” Jungkook stood to his feet with his fists raised into the air before grooving along with the instrumental.
“You like it that much?” I leaned back in my chair and watched him with amusement.
“Doesn’t it make you want to dance?” He asked while the song replayed from the beginning and he began his little dance party all over again.
“It’s got a great vibe, Kook. It’s really great.” I compliment his work. “Now you just gotta write lyrics for it and I’m sure it’ll be featured on the next album.”
“You think?” Jungkook stopped moving and peered at me with wide curious eyes.
I nodded, “Of course. It’s a really great track. It’s fun, it’s funky, and it’s something I could see you boys pulling off so easily.”
“Huh.” He breathed out and slumped into the chair. “Didn’t think you’d say that.”
"Again, you’ll need lyrics for it but you can do that.” I repeated my earlier statement but Jungkook looked like he didn’t hear me.
“I gotta make the lyrics badass. Like really good.” Jungkook said softly, “It’s gotta explode like a bomb. Like dynamite.”
I bit my lip at the word. I had half a song written out, tucked away in my Demo folder. A song that suddenly seemed to fit the instrumental extremely well.
A song that I had titled 'Dynamite’.
“Scheming face!” Jungkook exclaimed, breaking me from my thoughts.
I quickly turned to look at him, “What?”
“You were scheming something.” He pointed at my face and then copied the expression I had a few moments ago. More like a bad impression of my face. “So what were you scheming?” He wondered.
I debated with myself if I was really about to show this man one of my many secret tracks that I had hidden away.
“Please…” Jungkook dragged out the world with the biggest puppy eyes.
I sighed in defeat and leaned forward to the computer. “Fine. But you do not, do NOT, tell anyone about this.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Jungkook solemnly swore and drew an 'X’ over his heart.
I rolled my eyes at his silliness but my heart fluttered in adoration at his tactics.
Opening my private folder, I opened my 'Dynamite’ instrumental and lyric document.
“When did you make this?” Jungkook wondered, quickly reading over the unfinished lyrics.
“Uh…” I looked up at the ceiling in thought, “Like four-ish months ago?” I questioned even my own knowledge because in all honesty, I don’t remember when I started the piece or when I last worked on it. “I haven’t done a lot of work on it. It’s only got a tapped out bass rhythm with what lyrics I have.”
Before we could play through it, though, two quick knocks on my door disrupted our conversation.
After looking at the time and realizing it must be Namjoon, I called out, “Come in.”
The door opened and Namjoon walked in with his phone in one hand and his laptop and small notebook in the other. He glanced over Jungkook like it wasn’t a surprise that he was here.
“Hey Jungkook. Hey (y/n).” He greeted us while staring at his phone and sitting on the couch just behind Jungkook’s chair.
“Sup, hyung?” Jungkook greeted his leader with a short head nod.
“Hi.” I answered and again, began saving and exiting out of the tracks that weren’t needed. “What did you want to run by me?” I inquired and turned my chair towards Namjoon.
“Oh!” Namjoon remembered why he had shown up to my studio and shoved his phone into his pocket. He opened his small leather notebook and flipped through the pages till he found the one he wanted. “You think this would fit in the space where we left blank last time?” He offered me the notebook and I took it with both hands.
“Which song?” I asked because we had worked on three different tracks during our last session.
“Turning.” Namjoon answered and Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.
“What kind of a song title is that?” He poked fun at the title.
“What kind of a title is 'Cup of Milk’?” I threw the question back in his face with a glance and his jaw went slack.
“That’s a temporary title!” He pouted while Namjoon laughed at our banter.
I busied myself with opening the correct documents while Jungkook continued to pout and Namjoon continued to poke fun that someone finally shot Jungkook down into his place.
Reading over the lyrics once more, I played the instrumental part with the melody tracked on the keyboard and mentally sang along with the newly shown lyrics.
“Yeah, I think we could make it work.” I told Namjoon my thoughts on his lyrics and the waved a hand at Jungkook. “You’ve been demoted to couch.”
Jungkook playfully glared at me but moved so Namjoon could take his spot.
“So I was thinking,” Namjoon leaned is arms on the desk and shifted into producer mode, “Since it’s the second pre-chorus, we could layer the harmonies. Not too many cause I don’t want it to sound distorted.”
“We could add a lower and higher harmony.” I suggested, “With the base melody. Unless you wanted the base melody to disappear and only have the harmonies.”
“We could try both?” Namjoon inflected his voice upwards at the end, unsure of the words he spoke.
“Let’s try it.” I shrugged and set up the mic and the system.
40 grueling minutes later, the harmonies and melodies were exactly how Namjoon wanted them. And because he needed a better singer for them, I had to record all the lyrics.
“Can you also read over these lyrics for me?” Namjoon asked, moving towards the couch where his laptop sat. “I don’t know if they fit together well and I need a second opinion.”
“Don’t know how good my opinion will be but, yeah, let’s do it.” I nodded and rose out of my chair. Jungkook moved from the couch to my unoccupied chair but we paid little attention to him. He’d been quiet while we worked and hadn’t caused a ruckus so there wasn’t any need to worry about him.
Or so I thought.
While I read through the lyrics Namjoon wrote for a different song, I heard Jungkook putzing around on my computer but again, since he hadn’t caused any trouble before, I paid him no mind. I really should’ve.
Just as I was about to make a lyrical suggestion to Namjoon, my voice, along with the instrumental for the demo that Jungkook heard a bit of, blasted through the speakers.
My reflexes had me out of my seat in a millisecond but Jungkook was quick to turn his chair around and block me from reaching the computer.
“Jungkook!” I yelled over the music, “Turn it off! Seriously!” I went to reach past him but he grabbed my hands and wouldn’t let them go.
“Never!” He yelled back with a shit-eating grin.
His grin only made me fight harder to get past him but the guy had been working out and was stronger than I thought he would be.
“I am going to kill you!” I threatened the maknae with a death glare, still trying to push past him to turn my demo off.
“Before or after our date?” Jungkook wondered with a quipped eyebrow.
My eyes widened slightly at the mention of our date. That asshole would bring it up when there was another member in the room.
“Is this yours, Kook?” Namjoon asked, voice trying to beat out the music.
Jungkook shook his head aggressively, “It’s (y/n)’s!” He said with a head tilt towards me.
I groaned and pushed away from him. Jungkook turned back to the computer and lowered the volume but kept the song playing.
“Seriously?” Namjoon questioned, turning towards me as I walked back towards the door.
“Yeah.” I sighed in embarrassment. These were private, a secret, because I wasn’t 100% confident with my lyrical skills.
“You produced it?” Namjoon continued to fire questions at me.
I nodded.
“And wrote the lyrics?” He prodded, his expression bordering on amazement.
I nodded again.
“This is, this is great!” Namjoon thrusted his hands out in front of him for emphasis and his usually small eyes were wide. Like the widest I had ever seen them.
A tiny blush crept up onto my cheeks. “Really?” I questioned cause I really had no confidence in my lyrical abilities. But then again, who does?
“Yeah, really!” Namjoon nodded his head.
“I told you!” Jungkook exclaimed with a fist pump into the air.
I shot him a look but he only answered with a smug smile. Looking back at Namjoon, he was tapping his pen against his leg while in thought.
“What?” I urged him to think out loud.
“It’s really good. Just that some of the lyrics could use some editing.” He voiced but there was no condescention in his tone, just a brightness and excitement over the song. My song.
I nodded, “Yeah, I expected that. Though I really didn’t expect anyone to actually hear it.” I gave Jungkook a pointed look and again he just answered with a wide, teeth bearing smile.
Damn alcohol that made me spill my guts to this scheming asshole.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from us.” Namjoon continued on his compliment cascade.
Jungkook threw out an arm in Namjoon’s direction and gave you a look that said 'I told you so!’ as an agreement with his leader’s words.
I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes at Jungkook.
“I wasn’t exactly ready to show it to anyone yet.” I told Namjoon who nodded in understanding.
“But now that I have heard it. Can I get a copy?” He asked, “I can try to edit the lyrics as a first round before we send it upwards.” He suggested.
“Send it where now?” I widened my eyes in surprise, not thinking it was good enough to send for approval.
“Up…?” Namjoon repeated his word then quickly added, “But we don’t have to. I just really, really like it. I think it can be good enough to be released.”
I sighed, looking between Jungkook and Namjoon who were both hopeful that I would approve of the action.
“I’ll give you the copy,” I started and both guys quickly smiled, “But,” I said and grabbed their attention again, “It goes nowhere without my approval. Do you understand?” I dropped my tone to prove how serious I was.
“Understood.” Namjoon agreed, solemnly but the twinkle in his eye didn’t diminish in the slightest.
Jungkook stayed quiet at the computer and I stared at him but he avoided my gaze.
“Jungkook…” I said with a warning tone, “Promise me you won’t send this to any of the higher ups.”
Jungkook finally met my eyes with sheepish glances like a child who got caught in the middle of a prank set up. “I promise.” He said in a small voice, lips pouted.
Satisfied with his answer, I moved to the computer and this time, Jungkook let me pass without any trouble. I emailed the files to Namjoon and his phone notification going off let me know it was sent successfully.
“This is so cool.” Namjoon mumbled, already looking at the email on his phone. Without looking up, he gathered his things and walked towards the door. “I’ll see you guys later.” He bid us goodbye before disappearing behind the door.
I watched the door shut closed and said, “You’re dead.”
Jungkook just clicked his tongue and in the smuggest voice, said, “No, I’m not.”
I turned towards him with exasperation, “Jungkook…”
“Trust me, (y/n). You’re going to be thanking me one day for this.” He cut me off before I could scold him.
Slumping into the unoccupied chair, I let out yet another sigh and run my hands over my face.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I mumbled and looked up at the ceiling.
Jungkook looked at me in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“If I have to thank you one day for showing that demo to Namjoon, it means people liked it.” I explained, sitting up properly and glancing around the room. “If people like it, it means that they will expectations for the next song. If people have expectations for the next song, that means I have a standard to live up to. I already have a high producing standard and if a lyrical one is added… What if I can’t meet those expectations?”
Jungkook leaned forward and rested his hands over mine in my lap. “You,” He stared hard into my eyes, “Do not have to worry about that. Everything you make is literally amazing. And if you’re ever unsure, you always have me. I will always help you, critique you, and support you.”
A tiny smile appeared on my lips.
“Plus from the two demos I saw,” He continued, “You already have a pretty good knack for lyric writing.”
“Thanks, Kook.” I thanked him and his face broke out into a beautiful smile. The one where his eyes nearly disappear and his teeth are on full display.
“Of course!.” He leaned back, pulling his hands away though I had the instinct to grab them again, “I would do anything for my favorite producer and person. OH! We could discuss these 'Dynamite’ lyrics on Friday!” He suggested but I frowned.
“You promised no work talk on Friday.” I reminded him and his lips dropped into an 'o.’
“Right. I did promise.” Jungkook remembered and chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well, we better get some work done now before Namjoon comes back to remind me that we have more schedules to get to.” He playfully raised his eyebrows, taking control of the mouse and opening the different files.
I giggled and leaned forward, resting my hand on his hand. His hand was larger than mine but I had to admit that I liked how my hand looked on top of his.
He glanced down at my hand before up at me.
I smiled the sweetest smile I could muster, “Get out of my seat before you screw up my systems.” I threatened him and he stared at me in disbelief.
Then he chuckled and shook his head while rising out of my chair and mumbling, “How can someone so cute say something with such a terrifying tone?”
I reclaimed my seat and started clicking around my screens, “It’s a skill.” I answered his rhetorical with a smirk.
I didn’t turn to see his face but I definitely heard his airy laugh.
