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Curses Come Home

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Jungkook, the boy that Seokjin dated last year, stood at Jieun’s door. What was her brother’s ex-boyfriend doing on her doorstep?

“Jieun?” Jungkook said, eyes widening. They swept quickly down her body and then snapped back up to her face. His cheeks reddened subtly. He looked older.

“Oh hello,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I didn’t expect…wait here.” She left the door open a crack and rushed back to her room to put shorts on under her oversized t-shirt. Maybe a bra too. Maybe just a big sweater? How did her hair look? She never let guests in while looking so slovenly. Well, everyone had to look like they’d just rolled out of bed at least once a day. He’d seen her like this before, early in the mornings when she didn’t realize he’d stayed the night with Seokjin. She hoped he wouldn’t smell her nasty morning breath.

She opened the door back up. Jungkook stood on her doorstep with his shoulders pulled in and his plush lower lip between his teeth.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I…” she tugged at her messy hair. “Yeah. No pictures,” she laughed.

“You look fine,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” she said, and then stood there like an idiot with this man towering over her in the doorway, looking like a bird with his wide, round eyes. “Um…Why are you…?”

“Is Seokjin here? I left…some stuff here. I need it back.”

“Seokjin doesn’t live here anymore,” she said. “It’s just me.”

He took a deep, shaky breath that could have been either frustration or relief. “Okay. Um…Is his stuff here anyway?”

“What was it?”

“Like,” Jungkook scratched his neck, staring sideways off the down the hallway, “a couple shirts. A watch. A…I should just contact Seokjin.”

“Was that big blue vibrator yours?” she asked, remembering something she’d thrown quickly in a box in sheer disbelief that her brother would own something like that. Jungkook’s face turned a tell-tale pink.


He’d gotten even prettier, shoulders and chest filled out a little, face slimmer, but eyes just as startling and lips just as red. If her own brother weren’t even more gorgeous, Jieun would wonder why anyone would have the nerve to dump him.

She sighed. “I’ve rearranged everything so your things might be hard to find, but if Seokjin left your vibrator, he probably left everything else too. Would you like to come inside and look?”

“Yes please.”

So polite. Jieun let him inside. She remembered him moving like a teenager, a little bit of a loping slouch. He’d lost that, hands slipped into his pockets, strides long and sure, back straighter. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, gesturing to the folded laundry laid across the living room couch, the water glasses cluttering the end table.

“It’s so clean,” he laughed.

When was the last time she saw him? Had he been sitting on Seokjin’s lap on the couch? Washing the dishes in their kitchen? Had he been wearing the same lazy beanie and sweatpants that he always wore, or did he look more like he did now, in jeans and a casual button-up?

“Do you have a list of the things you left? Like the shirts. What did they look like?”

“One of them was just a plain white t-shirt, but it felt really soft. It was pretty big. You’d probably be able to recognize it.”

Oh. “And the other ones?” she said, already inching towards the laundry basket.

“A blue one with a bowling team logo on it. Um, there was a Stussy t-shirt.”

“Baseball tee with yellow sleeves?”


She pulled it out of the pile of shirts. “I use them for pajamas.”

Jungkook swallowed. “Oh.”

Jieun pulled the soft t-shirt and blue bowling shirt out too. “I’ve…worn them out,” she said, handing over the faded, thin shirts that were so wonderfully big on her that she’d worn them every night for a year. He took them gently, face blank. He unfolded them. A pair of lacy blue panties fell out of the collar. Her heart jolted a little. He blinked, picked it up gently, and handed it back to her with a small, loaded glance under his eyelashes.

Veins ran over the back of his bony hand, long fingers and a wide palm. It brushed warmly against her own tiny fingers as she took the panties back, blushing.

“The, um…the other stuff?”

“Watch and vibrator?” she asked. “Was there anything else?”

His little red cheeks were so cute, made him more familiar. “I don’t think so.”

She led him awkwardly right into her bedroom and pulled a small cardboard box out from under the bed. She spared him the experience of opening it to check. “If there’s anything else in there, just throw it away. Or keep it if it looks valuable. Or give it back,” she amended. “As for the watch…” she glanced around to distract herself from the second-hand embarrassment of his ashamed face. “I’m not sure. Let me look.”

He stood awkwardly right in the middle of her blue carpet and personal furnishings as she dug through a drawer in her desk, looking a little like a giant in a dollhouse. “How old are you now?” she said. “Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

He cleared his throat. “Just twenty.”

She turned around, startled. “What? Only twenty?”

He nodded, a pleased smirk beginning to twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Seokjin dated you when you were only nineteen?” she asked. He nodded again. She looked back at the drawer, unable to bring her brain back to the task. How many times had they had a nineteen-year-old drinking in their living room?

“Did you think I was older?”

“I thought you were twenty-four, my age,” she said.

He laughed, eyes crinkling. He certainly didn’t look twenty. He’d never looked twenty. Not with that poise, not if he still had the same abs that she remembered from the nights she came home to him and Seokjin making out on the couch. “I can’t find your watch,” she said, staring blankly down at the drawer.

“You’ve only checked one place.”

“This is the only place it would be. Unless it’s in the storage room, and that could take hours to go through.”

“I can’t wait,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Jieun crossed her arms over her chest, underdressed in her own home next to his tight-fitting black jeans and smooth shirt. “I’ll look for it then,” she said. “What does it look like?”

“It’s brown.”



“I think I have five of my mother’s brown watches in storage. Do you have a better description?”

Jungkook scratched his neck. “Maybe…gold on it? I don’t actually remember specifically.”

Jieun nodded. “I’ll look. If I find anything, I’ll call you.”

She saw him out, awkwardly clutching the small cardboard box and flinching whenever its contents rolled around. He clutched three shirts and a cardboard box under one arm and had to stoop to hug her, but still managed to get the perfect looping squeeze around her upper back with just one arm. Under her thin shirt and soft sweater, her nipples brushed against his firm chest with an alarmingly strong jolt.

“Thanks, Jieun,” he said softly, sweet voice close to her ear. Lucky fucking Seokjin. How did he always manage to land the hottest men?

“See you soon?” Jieun said.

“Yeah. Don’t…stress about the watch, I guess. I can live without it for a while longer.”

“No worries,” she said.

Jungkook nodded and left down the stairs, walking gingerly to not bounce the vibrator in the box, and she went back inside with a deep sigh and a sudden annoying urge to masturbate. Stupid pretty boys making the day a little more complicated. She’d already gotten up late. With a sigh, she headed back to the bedroom to locate her own, rarely used vibrator.


“Jungkook showed up at my apartment yesterday.”

Oh man,” Seokjin said, loud voice crackling over the phone. “Jungkook. At the apartment. Yesterday. Okay. What did he want?

“Wanted the stuff he left here. A few shirts that I assumed were yours and have been using as pajama shirts for the past year, and a blue vibrator.”

Seokjin laughed. “That thing. Right. That thing was…something else. We stopped using it because he’d always cum before I got my dick in him.”

Jieun’s brain stuttered and stalled. “Hm,” she said, the image playing out in her mind. “Yeah. He had a brown watch here and I can’t find it.”

I left that there,” Seokjin said. “It was on my dresser.

Jieun looked into what she liked to refer to as the “storage closet.” The dresser sat barely visible in the back corner beyond all their parent’s extra belongings and their grandma’s old stuff, packed away and forgotten. Everything was neatly arranged and labelled, but the dresser had several small boxes of decorative knick-knacks. No brown watch there. “I need you to come sort through some boxes. I can’t handle all of these.”

Do they belong to Mom and Dad?


I’m not taking them.

“Then help me with Grandma’s stuff. This shouldn’t just be mine to handle,” Jieun said. “They’re more than ready to work things out with you, you know. Swallow your pride and come back to the family.”

They can come tell me that themselves,” Seokjin snapped. “You didn’t offer much defense either.


And who told them about Jungkook to begin with?” Seokjin said, ranting now, voice getting higher and more animated. “You did. You can handle their boxes on your own.

“Neither of us expected them to react so poorly.”

Fucking Jungkook. What a thing to get shamed out of my family for. Out of all the men I dated. You know I saw him, like, a few days ago, in passing. Fucking Jungkook.

“Fucking Jungkook,” Jieun mused, leaning back on her couch. She’d cleaned up. The doilies were all flawlessly back in place, the water glasses washed, the laundry put away. Her flats matched the carpeting. “I didn’t expect to ever see him again. Why did you break up with him? You never told me, not even when you were still living here.”

The phone buzzed with silent feedback. A tiny, bracing breath on the other end. An audible sigh. “Um,” Seokjin said, small and hesitant. She smiled. So it had been Seokjin’s fault. “I thought he was cheating on me,” he said. “He wasn’t, but I’m really petty—well you know that. You know I’m petty. Turns out he’s just as petty as me, though, because I cheated on him to get back at him, but even after we cleared up that disagreement, he went and slept with someone I fucking work with, and now I have to see her stupid face every day, and—

“Her? Hold on,” Jieun said, sitting up in spite of herself. “He’s bi?”

He’s something,” Seokjin said with a dismissive sigh. “I broke up with him right there. We’d committed to fixing things. He said, to my face, that he wouldn’t be taking it further, and then he fucking films himself fucking my coworker and sends it to me while I’m at work.

“No,” Jieun gasped, extra theatrical.

Yes!” Seokjin yelled, enjoying himself now. “That boy is a snake!

“You never told me he was nineteen.”

Silence from the other end. Jieun got up to water the plants. “Yeah. He was nineteen.

“He’s twenty now.”

Good for him.

Jieun bit down on her next questions, her half-mocking “He’s gotten even more gorgeous.” Her “Did he fuck you?” Her “Was he good at it?” All the ways she wanted to make Seokjin squirm, but no, she wouldn’t stoop.

You want to fuck him don’t you,” he said, reading her thoughts. “Predictable. I don’t care. I’m seeing someone new anyway.

“You do care.”

Another beat of silence. She put the phone on speaker and filled the watering can, knowing he’d be annoyed with not getting her full attention. “I gotta go, Jieun.

“Fine. I have storage to sort through.”

He hung up. She stopped to search her closet before heading to the storage room and got distracted looking through her boxes of accessories. She hadn’t found her vibrator earlier, had gotten distracted by a flower arrangement guide a friend sent her, and had never gotten around to locating it and getting the job done. Maybe now was a better time anyway.


Jungkook stood in the doorway in a baseball hat and oversized white shirt that would have looked tough if he hadn’t tucked it into his jeans around his thin waist. “Jungkook?” Jieun said, self-conscious of her work clothes, the pumps, pencil skirt, and blouse uniform, nametag still on her chest. She’d had time to get a glass of water and put down her purse before he knocked on the door. With her pumps on, they were closer to the same height, but she still felt dwarfed. Those thighs were easily twice as wide as hers.

“You left something of yours in the box,” Jungkook said, and held, right there in the open air, Jieun’s clit massager, a pad of incriminating pink silicon with two wings and a single big button.

She hoped her makeup would hide the sudden flush, the abrupt embarrassment, the little flame of excitement. “Thank you,” she said gently, and took it from him as casually as she could manage. How the hell had she put it in there and not remembered? “Would you like to help me look for the watch?”

Jungkook followed her again, right into the bedroom. It felt only natural. He’d practically lived here a year ago, though he never really talked to her, always entirely caught up with Seokjin. Practically locked in Seokjin’s room, if she remembered correctly, as if they weren’t allowed to talk anyway.

“Seokjin says he saw you recently.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook cleared his throat. “We ended up at the same club. It was super awkward.”

He looked uncomfortably bitter when he mentioned Seokjin. “Hm. I’d like to change,” Jieun said, “so if you could please wait in the living room for a moment—”

“That’s my watch.”

Jungkook pointed to the top of the dresser. Jieun glanced at her jewelry. “Your watch?”

“Right here.”

He stepped up and pulled a gold watch with a brown band off her bracelet rack.

“Oh?” she said, flushing again. Just how much of his clothing had she been wearing for the past year? “I wear that all the time. Seokjin left it when he ran off…ah. Yes, that’s probably yours.”

Jungkook picked up something else on the dresser. The pink bullet vibe that she never used. “Jieun?” he said, voice soft as velvet.

“Just put it down,” she snapped, embarrassment making her stern.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly. His face flushed again. “Sorry,” he said, so soft and ashamed, thinking he’d overstepped his bounds. He turned towards the door. “I’ll just take this. See you later.”

As he walked past Jieun, his belt looked just the right distance to reach out and hook with a finger.

So she did.

And then she had Jungkook by the belt, a big enough catch to pull her forward a couple steps before he realized that she had him and stopped. “I really like that watch,” she said softly.

He blinked blankly at her, little lips parted in confusion, round eyes wide. “Do you…want to keep it?”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” she promised.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Jungkook put it back her hand and stepped closer to the pull on his belt, suddenly right over her, thick chest inches away.

“Good boy,” she murmured, drawing her soft voice out deep and breathy just like she’d heard Seokjin do once. Her heart pounded. Barely visible in Jungkook’s deep, deep brown eyes, his pupils swelled. He breathed shallowly, quick through his parted lips. Jieun held onto his belt, leaned down, and tugged her heels off, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against her cheek. He braced her arm without thinking. She sunk five inches down, suddenly half a foot shorter than him. “Thank you. Would you like to sta—”

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Jungkook said quickly. He gripped her arm uneasily.

“Will I be seeing you again then?” she asked.

“S—” Jungkook had to pause and look away from her, taking a deep breath. “Seokjin? What about…He probably wouldn’t like you to…”

“Seokjin and I don’t talk much anymore,” Jieun said. “I don’t care what he’d like or not.” In fact, she’d like him to know. She’d like him to hate this.

Jungkook was so close to giving in, chewing on his blush bottom lip, callused hand still on her arm, warm and tall and…maybe not as big as she’d been thinking, a little slighter up close, with a little more give to the downturn of his head, his huge eyes. “I’ll see you around, Jieun,” he said, and pulled away.

“I hope I can see you again,” Jieun said sweetly, a polite nothing, an obligatory half-smile.

She started unbuttoning her shirt before he was all the way out.


Seokjin moved out in a fit of fury not long after he broke up with Jungkook. Jieun didn’t even notice he was leaving until he had two boxes packed by the door. She’d made an offhand comment about three men at work giving her birthday cards and being disappointed that three was less than last year. Not so many opportunities open this year, apparently. Not that she had any interest in taking them.

An hour later, she bothered to look up from her diary and see what all the banging about was, and Seokjin had half his room packed up.

“Your problem,” he had snapped, “is that you don’t give a shit about people past what they can do for you. If that’s what you call interested men. ‘Opportunities.’ Fuck you.”

Jieun had been so offended that she’d sat lazily in the living room until he’d gotten the last of his belongings in the car around three in the morning. She painted her nails slowly, texted her friends, tried out some new song lyrics. All the while, Seokjin stormed back and forth between the door and his room, getting angrier and angrier and blasting her with chilly air every time he opened the door. Older brothers really shouldn’t be so affected by petulant younger siblings.

In truth, Jieun did care about people. She’d just realized, somewhere around the age of thirteen, that her brother was obsessively jealous, especially of anyone having what he did: physical beauty, good grades, talent in singing, their parents’ love and approval, attention from as many men as possible. After that, Seokjin had been a generic brother to her. A Family Member, but not a friend.

The jealousy worked both ways, of course. Though Jieun was always the one with half a dozen suitors at any point, all willing and available to her, Seokjin was always the one with the perfect boyfriend. No one vying for her attention stood a chance next to all of his flawless conquests. Both had what the other wanted and neither was happy. And then Jungkook, the first major loss of Seokjin’s love life, showed up on her doorstep, strong and sweet, and she felt the tide begin to turn.


“You’re in school?”

Jungkook lounged on the couch like he belonged there, tea in his hands. He seemed more at ease now, no conflict left. “Yeah. I’m in school. Doing music.”

“Still in sports?”

“Yeah. Baseball recently. What—um. What are you doing these days?”

“Still a secretary at the art museum,” Jieun sighed. “I’ve been promoted to the director’s private secretary. It pays the bills. I’m still writing songs, but nothing has come out of that yet.”

He nodded. “I’m sure it’ll work out. I…used to watch your YouTube channel.”

“Only used to?” Jieun whined. “My last video didn’t get very many hits. You’ve stopped helping me out?”

“Sorry,” he said softly, looking like a scolded puppy. “I’ll go watch it.”

She waited. Jungkook seemed at a loss, staring somewhere below her face. She might have accused him of staring at her chest, but he looked a little too blank for that.

“Why are you here?”

Jungkook blinked. The edge of a smirk tugged at his mouth. “You wanted to see me again. Thought I’d indulge that.”

Indulgence indeed.


“I talked to him a day or so ago. He complained the entire call. He’s doing fine.”

Jungkook laughed softly, eyes narrowing. “He complains a lot.”

“I know.”

“He was so possessive.”

“Possessive?” Jieun said. “Really?”

Jungkook eyed her quietly. “Didn’t like me hanging around with you there. He’d get jealous.”

“Hm,” Jieun said with a little quirk of her lips. “That’s very like him. Doesn’t like it when men notice me more than him,” she fiddled idly with her little coffee-table book on flower photography, “but they always do.”

“Jieun,” Jungkook said softly.

She put her tea down with a sigh and got up, hesitated by the mantle, biting her lip and fidgeting with a glass clock, and then made up her mind and settled in an easy straddle across Jungkook’s thick thighs.

He tensed, swallowed, gasped. His big hands settled satisfyingly on Jieun’s hips, thumbs hooked in her sharp pelvic bones, fingers gripping gently.

“You left last time,” she said.

“Sorry,” he murmured. At this angle, he lost all his sharp edges, became delicate. “He always got mad when I looked at you.”


“Yeah,” Jungkook murmured, head tilted so far back. “He caught me looking at you sometimes. He’d fuck me so hard I couldn’t think about anything else, but fuck, you’re both so hot.”

Jieun felt a cruel lash of satisfaction.

“No Seokjin here now. I couldn’t get off while you had my massager,” she pouted.

She watched that sucker punch him, watched him blink slowly as if stunned. His shoulders and chest tensed. “Should I help?” he asked, black eyes so round, little lips pouting.

She took his hat off and pushed his hair off his face, feeling the strands soft between her fingers. “Back pocket,” she said. Jungkook’s hands slid slowly around to cup her ass. His lips parted. A little, barely perceptible throb started up between her legs.

“Kiss me?” he asked, voice higher and softer, crackling a little, the masculine confidence he’d accrued in the past year sliding off like tissue paper in the rain. She smiled fondly and pulled his head gently back by the hair. His thin lips tasted like her tea.

At first, he made her work, hands tight but hesitant on her hips, trembling and swallowing back his moans instead of asking for what he wanted, or taking it. Jieun rocked unsteadily back into the bracing strength of his hands until he squeezed her tight against himself. Heat and hardness pressed against her pussy through two pairs of jeans. She’d never seen Seokjin on Jungkook’s lap. When he’d been here before, it had always been Jungkook bundled up in bigger arms. He looked good under her, steadying but needy. She pushed against him, encouraged him to use those big, strong hands, to kiss down her neck when he wanted to.

And then Jungkook had her on her back, caged between his arms on the couch, thighs clenched tight together between his legs as he peeled her shirt and bra up and off and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck. Oh my god,” Jungkook gasped, voice overwhelmed and breathy. He braced one arm like a rod under her back, clutching her thin chest to his wet mouth. “Jieun,” he moaned. She tugged gently on the shoulder of his shirt. He sat up and pulled it off. “Jieun you have no idea how much—”

Jieun remembered walking into the living room one evening to see Seokjin straddling Jungkook’s waist on the couch, Jungkook’s shirt bunched up under his armpits and Seokjin’s fingers on his nipples as he squirmed and whined. She grabbed both, pinched, and twisted, and his body rolled into her hands, eyes slamming shut.

“O-oh,” he warbled, bracing himself on the couch. She went from being trapped under a strong man to having a baby boy in her lap.

“You like it too, huh?” She said. “That’s both of us.” He hummed and rocked unsteadily. “You like it that much?” she murmured. Jungkook nuzzled down on top of her, trapping her hands and pinning her down with his whole weight like a big, heavy blanket. His hot, smooth skin and strong shoulder filled her view, completely covered her body.

Jieun had thought her breasts looked small in her own hands, had forgotten how small they looked under a man’s fingers. They usually pinched and pawed, and she had to push their hands off and pretend she didn’t like being touched there, but Jungkook’s soft fingers moved so gently, hesitant and reverent, little brushes that sent startling shocks of sensitivity through her crotch.

“Where’d you learn to treat a woman so well?” she crooned.

His mouth popped off her breast, red lips shiny. “Had a girlfriend before Seokjin. She liked it when I called her Mommy.”

Jieun giggled a little, relaxed in his strong arms. “Take me to the bedroom and show me what she taught you,” she said.

Pants gone, Jieun sat on the bed and waited as Jungkook peeled his pants down his distractingly thick thighs. Instead of climbing onto the bed, he kneeled and pulled her legs over his shoulders. “Oh,” she moaned, falling back. Heat and wet pushed against her lips through her panties, the startling delight of sensation against her clit. Wonderful. Why had Jungkook ever dated Seokjin? This kind of giving would be wasted on a man. The panties began to stick to her, to leave a little cold, wet spot between her legs.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook moaned.

“Tell me more,” Jieun said.

“Smells good,” he breathed, and peeled the panties down her legs. He buried his nose and mouth right back into her wet, bare pussy and groaned, tongue flicking greedily.

“So dirty,” she whined. With a little, devious glance, he flicked on the massager and fit it expertly around her clit, pinching the wings together to squeeze. A searing, wonderful pleasure enveloped her core, tingling and shivery and so much too fast.

Jungkook didn’t stop when she came, just pulled away from her sensitive clit and worked his tongue against her tingling lower folds, one long finger spearing deep into her. She yelped and gasped, throbbing nearly painfully, even at the lessened stimulation. He held down her hips with a veiny hand.

She yanked on his hair, pulling his head closer instead of pushing it away. He whimpered. “Too much,” she gasped. He made a little, desperate noise of protest, nose nudging her sensitive clit, gasping sharp, cold breaths against her.

"Taste so good, Jieun."

"Do I," she said, doubting it.

“Uh-huh,” Jungkook moaned. His tongue flicked too high again. Jieun’s thighs snapped shut around his head, just in reflex, but he gave a muffled yelp and moan. She pulled his hair again because of the way it made him squirm. He definitely couldn’t breathe right now. His eyes squeezed shut. Past her own thighs, she saw one arm working in rhythm.

“Baby, are you jerking yourself off right now?” she asked. He gave a weak little struggle against her uselessly thin thighs. His little wiggles against her oversensitive clit began feeling good again.

“Gonna cum drowning in my…um…” Jieun’s courage failed. It didn’t matter. Jungkook jerked, shuddered, and then yanked back from her thighs with slick trailing from his lips. He sagged, gasping, clutching the edge of the bed. She made him lean back, revealing his mess all over her bedframe and his sculpted, vacuum-packed chest. His eyes were glassy, tears, spit, and her own slick all over his face, brown hair mussed.

“Did you just cum from eating me out?” Jieun asked softly.

“Fuck yes,” he breathed.

“Do it again,” she ordered. Without batting an eye, he slid two fingers right up into her and got back to work.


Seokjin came over, distant and uncomfortable in his own sister’s living room. “Just three boxes?” he asked.

“Just these three to start,” Jieun answered, gesturing to the boxes on the dining room table. She’d already pulled open the first and spread its contents out: trappings from their grandmother’s old house, cleaned out five years ago and not touched since. “Mom finally agreed to let us deal with this stuff. She doesn’t want any of it.” She picked up a little glass clock. “Do you want this?”


“I’ll start a ‘to sell’ pile.”

They went through the entire box and only claimed one item each: a little china set for Jieun and a wooden carving of a duck for Seokjin. “How do old people accrue this much crap?” Seokjin said, putting down another porcelain figurine of a young woman in a colorful dress. “That’s the fourth medusa victim.”

“Another miniature tea set,” Jieun muttered. “This one is made of copper.”

“That could sell,” Seokjin said excitedly.

Box two yielded just as few treasures, maybe because they both seemed to be rushing things, eager to get this over with and comfortably turn their backs again, but it had been years and years since they stood in the same room and agreed on everything. She could feel a little bit of tension ease out of the air as they chucked another vase of dried flowers into the trash can.

“This place is so clean,” Seokjin said eventually, when the sorting had broken down to Seokjin holding up each item and Jieun either pointing to her pile of stuff or taking it to try to find it online and see how much they could sell it for.

“Time to clutter it up,” she said, gesturing to her little pile.

“Find anything worth much?”

“There’s a vase that we might be able to get fifty for, but everything else is just junk. We might want to contact someone about those little pearl buttons though. I can’t find them online. They might be real.” Jieun quietly decided to keep them anyway. They’d look excellent on one of her cardigans.

“So, I’ll take everything and start looking for buyers,” Seokjin said. “I’m really good at negotiating online. And you keep everything in storage here until I sell them? We’ll split the profit half and half?”


“I fucked Jungkook over this table once,” Seokjin said.

Jieun froze, blinking at her inventory sheet. Oh, if only he knew what they’d done on this table the day before. “How’d he like it?” she asked.

“He drooled everywhere, so I guess he liked it,” Seokjin said. “It’s a good memory. If I miss one thing about that kid it’s how much he loved my dick.”

Jieun felt a tiny shiver of delight, imagining Jungkook bent over and drooling, whining in that pretty voice of his. “Please keep your sex life to yourself,” she sighed.

“I got a new boyfriend,” Seokjin said smugly.

Her hackles raised. “Can we not do this now?” she snapped.

“Do what? Don’t you want to know about my life.”

“You know how I feel about all your boyfriends,” Jieun snapped.

“I know you want them,” he said.

“I want a boyfriend, Seokjin, not your boyfriend. You just get the best choices because you’re handsome, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make it worse by gloating.” She began tallying the items from the third box. “Should we wait to unpack the other boxes till after we’ve sold most of this stuff? This is just the decorative stuff. The dishware is going to take a lot more effort to sort through.”

“That looks like Jungkook’s jacket,” Seokjin said suddenly.


“That jacket right there,” Seokjin said. “It looks like his. He always used to leave it right on that chair too.”

Jieun glanced up and saw, too late, Jungkook’s leather jacket, hanging on the back of a chair in the living room where he’d left it the evening before, right before he fucked her over the dining room table. Her face flamed up immediately, an odd panic coming over her. It would be fun to see Seokjin’s fury flame up, but he couldn’t find out. Not yet.

“I…um. Found it…in my closet. Maybe it’s his? I’ve been wearing a lot of his other clothes without realizing.”

Seokjin stared at it, eyebrows furrowed. Jieun wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t believe her. “Like…Does it even fit you?”

“…No?” she guessed. “I like oversized clothes.”

“No, you don’t. You say they make you look tiny and you hate that.”

“It depends,” she said, blushing, even though it really didn’t. She really didn’t like oversized clothes. Of course he would remember that. “Sometimes they look good.”

“Put it on,” he said. “I wanna see.”

Jungkook’s leather jacket felt heavy and warm on Jieun’s shoulders. The sleeves reached all the way to her fingertips. Even zipped up, it gaped around her torso. She could barely restrain her displeased scowl. Seokjin frowned, tipped his head to the side, and then nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that looks pretty good on you.”

“Th-thank you,” she said, and wished she could go check in the mirror. They got quietly back to business, the jacket hanging over the back of her chair now, smelling incriminatingly of men’s soap and Jungkook distinctive, soft scent. Seokjin couldn’t smell it, of course, but it got Jieun’s heart buzzing as she tried to work. Conversation remained short and stilted until he left a half hour later.


Jungkook finally pushed in, Jieun’s hips in his lap, fingers so soft on her folds where he held her apart to fill her up. He was so much bigger than her toys, so warm and soft. None of her toys came with a face like that, or those clenching abs, tight and beautiful as he rolled his hips.

She imagined that when he did this with men, when he pushed in and collapsed forward, overwhelmed by the stimulation and gasping, he probably only reached their chests, forehead pressed against their shoulders, breathing against their skin. When he fell forward over her, they were cheek to cheek, breath harsh against her neck.

“You okay, baby?” she cooed when he tried to hide his face in the rough couch cushions past her shoulder.

“Hng,” he said. She rocked her hips back against him, feeling the deep, hard slide of something thick and hot through her core, the rough, toe-tingling pounding. His arms braced on either side of her, thick and hard, swollen with straining muscle. When she trailed her fingers along the dips between those muscles, tracing their outlines, he moaned and squirmed.

“Keep thinking about…Seokjin fucking me on this couch. ‘S weird to trade places.”

“You like it when big men fuck you?” she asked, eager to get off the subject of Seokjin.

“Like it when anyone fucks me,” he gasped back. The steady strokes pulled at her lips, becoming an easier, looser slide than the tight, twinging pain of the first few thrusts. He threw his head back and whimpered softly, driving forward.

“You’d want me to fuck you?” Jieun murmured, right in his ear, letting him hear how breathy and broken-up he had her.

Jungkook came with his face pressed to her skin, body tensing desperately, and hot, possessive smugness filled her up. He pulled out with a soft whine, brown hair mussed terribly, red blooming along his neck. The fucked-out haze in his eyes made him look younger and smaller. Her clit throbbed, pussy pulsating with the loss of sensation. Jungkook glanced down, thumb still rubbing gently at her sensitive lips, and then nuzzled his nose and mouth right into her soft, wet folds.


"Hm," he sighed, licking broad strokes from her aching hole up to her sore clit. She went limp and let him slowly, slowly work her back up.

The clit massager came back out, so small and awkward-looking in his veiny hand, but handled so well. With his finger gentle inside her and the massager buzzing against her, she came with more of a jerk and an ache than a slow, delicious release.

"That's enough," Jieun gasped, jerking with every touch. Jungkook pouted but backed off.

“Thanks,” Jungkook murmured after they’d cleaned up. He bundled her up like a doll in his thick arms, her delicate, unshielded ribcage against the soothing cushion of his chest, arms like bars around her. He snuggled his face into her neck and lay there like a child with a teddy bear.

“Bring over your vibrator next time,” she said. “We’ll see how good you can be for me.”

He squeezed her a little tighter, staring sweetly into her eyes. She smoothed his sweaty bangs back from his forehead, ran a thumb along the top of his cheekbone. His eyes fluttered shut. “Okay,” he murmured.

Jieun didn’t bring up the leather jacket till afterwards. “He recognized it,” she said. “So, I had to pretend like I wear it all the time.”

Jungkook snorted softly, glancing at the jacket that still hanging from the back of the dining room chair where Jieun had left it. “I thought you didn’t care if he knew,” he said.

The frantic flush started in her cheeks again, the little edge of panic. “I don’t, but we have to work on getting all Grandma’s stuff out of the house, and I don’t want him to get mad until it’s over.”

Jungkook frowned and fiddled with the clit massager, looking unsure.

“Did you want me to keep him updated?” she asked sarcastically.

He took a deep, slow breath through his nose, staring somewhere below her chin, his little tongue flicked over his lips. He shrugged.

Jieun sighed. “Do you need this jacket back or can I keep it awhile?”

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip and stared hard at the jacket. She got a weird urge to pat his cheek and give him a cookie. “Can I see it on you?” he asked.

Wearing only her panties, Jieun sauntered over to the jacket and pulled it onto her shoulders, letting the rough material hang open over her chest. Jungkook smirked. “It’s huge on you.”

Her turn to flush and stutter.

“Yeah, keep it,” he said softly, still smirking. “And please wear it. You look good in my clothes.”


Jieun casually straddled Jungkook’s abs, backwards, slowly rubbing herself up and down and spreading a little smear of wet across his skin. “I’m going to put this in you and suck you off,” she said, holding up the big, blue vibrator and watching him over her shoulder. “While I do that, you’re going to eat me out. If you stop, I stop. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Jungkook nodded, lips locked tight. He spread his legs willingly, thick and muscly all the way down. He waxed a bit, asshole bare and pubic hair neatly trimmed. She smiled and kissed his soft skin. “Aren’t you pretty?” she said. He made a strangled, uncomfortable snicker. “Did you prep like I asked you to?” she said. “I can’t do much with my small fingers.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispered. Jieun pushed a finger in just to check, and felt him squeeze and open around her, wet and ready. “Good,” she praised. The vibrator, lubed properly, slid right into him. His breath hitched, and she turned around to see his eyes squeezed shut, a hand over his mouth. She flicked it on.

“Ha—ahhh! Hrng. Mm.”

Her clit ached already.

When Jieun shuffled back, Jungkook grabbed her hips eagerly and locked them down against his face, mouth pressed hard against her heat and tongue flicking steadily. “G-good,” she gasped, breathless with his thoughtless show of strength. She slid the vibrator quickly in and out. His hips jolted, dick bouncing against his stomach. She sucked it into her mouth to keep it in place, and he whined and did something amazing to her clit.

Jungkook did well, working attentively around his own moaning and squirming. The muffled buzzing rattled through him, and his trembling lips kept working even as she flicked her tongue around the head of his cock and his whole body tensed up. “Good boy. Good for you,” she murmured against his cock. He whined.

The blue vibrator stretched him open easily, but didn’t press very deep, so she began searching his walls, wiggling it in gentle, slow circles, searching forward and back, until she ran it over a little bump and he yelped, hips yanking away. She tried again more gently. He keened against her thigh, gripping her hips.

Jieun stopped. “Kook? You have a job to do.”

“Sorry,” he gasped, and pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to her clit. She shuddered and gave him a deep, hard suck. The vibrator pulled beautiful noises out of him. Harder thrusts got gasps. Powerful vibrating and the slow tease around his sweet spot had his thighs shaking and air sweeping fast and cold against her labia as he gasped. The closer he got, the more unsteady and distracted his lips became.

“Baby,” she reminded, pulling off again.

Jungkook whimpered beautifully, pressing tentative lips back to her clit and struggling to keep going. She thrust deep and hard. He broke away again, back arching.


“Jieun! Please!”

“You stop—I stop.”

“Please, Jieun. Fuck, please. I need—fuck, I can’t—” His voice broke, whiny and high.

“Mm-mm,” she said, giggling, and pressed herself back down against his face again. He licked obediently, still whining.

Jungkook couldn’t concentrate with the vibrator against his prostate, so she always had to pull it away and wait for him to buckle down and get some work done until she pressed back, which resulted in delirious edging, always seconds away from finishing and only able to get more when he backed down enough to focus around the searing pleasure.

“Be good,” Jieun ordered softly, fingertips pinching the head of his dick playfully. He twitched, trying to jerk into her hand, but she kept it teasingly loose until he brought beautiful, shivering pleasure back to her clit.

He finally shoved two trembling fingers into her dripping pussy and dug down, looking for the little spot he always found, and her hips collapsed against his mouth. He growled and kept going, and she let go of the vibe and braced against the bed, clutching at one wide thigh. “Bleathe,” he begged around her. “Id hurths, Dieun.”

She wordlessly tilted the vibrator into his prostate and tightened her grip around his dick. He came with a string of frantic moans, body shaking under hers. She sat up and grabbed his arms, holding them down, his head still trapped under her pussy.

Jungkook could easily pull away, muscles straining, back arching, legs shoving against the blankets and snapping closed, trying to escape from the vibrator shoved painfully close to his prostate, but he stayed there under her hands, whining and sobbing against her throbbing clit as she watched his body thrash.

“Good,” Jieun breathed, as she finally took it out and turned it off. “Good boy. You did good.” He sprawled limply on the sheets, eyes fluttering, still whimpering with every touch, but still reached up and pressed her to his face with trembling hands and dutifully, worshipfully ate her out till she came with a long, pulsing shiver.

“So that’s what you like?” she said after they’d finished when he had her squeezed up against him again, tight, warm, and trembling. Somehow, that felt better than the orgasm.

“Mm,” he said. “Thank you.” He left light, soft kisses across the top of her chest. A hand slid smoothly up her side to cup one small breast in his palm. It rubbed, friction sending a little shock all the way through her and making her body buck against him.

“No,” she gasped, wiggling. He snickered softly, and withdrew. Rain began to tap at the tin windowsill outside, and she snuggled down closer to the man in her bed. "You have to be out by seven p.m."

Jungkook sat up a little, pink lips set in a pout, hair in his eyes. "W-why?"

Jieun pet his cheek soothingly. "Don't worry. It's just for tonight."

He pulled her hand away.

"Seokjin will be here at seven," she said.

His pout dropped into understanding, and then his expression closed off.

Jieun pressed her thumb to his pretty, pink lip. "I'm sorry."

"Hm," he said, nestling back into her shoulder where she couldn't see his face.

“I bought you a new watch,” she said, petting him. “You want me to go get it?”

Jungkook’s face was carefully clear again when he looked up and smiled. “Yes please.”

Her man looked sexy wearing nothing but a brown leather watch, hair brushed carelessly off his forehead and grinning down at her, all pearly white teeth and half-cocky satisfaction. “Gonna be my sugar mama?” he asked, and she giggled.

“I’m not nearly rich enough for that,” she said, but wondered, suddenly, what exactly Jungkook had been to Seokjin, a young kid with a pretty face, lying around in only briefs and a thin shirt, waiting for Seokjin to come home from work with a present. She wondered where the possessive lurch came from.


“So, I brought my boyfriend,” Seokjin said as Jieun opened the door. She nearly slammed it.

“Welcome!” she said, ushering them both in and taking their jackets. Seokjin’s boyfriend was a tall, gorgeous man with ash blond hair and lips almost as nice as his Seokjin’s.

“Nice to meet you,” he said with a dimpled smile and a gentle, low voice. “I’m Namjoon.”

“I picked him up at the club,” Seokjin said proudly. “He was the DJ.”

“Sorry to interrupt family matters,” Namjoon said, gently scratching the back of his neck in the soft way she’d come to associate with men who were open to being doted on. “I hope I’m not in the way.”

“You’re fine,” Jieun said, heart already going way softer than it had any right to be. Was it just Pavlovian at this point, to be so attracted to Seokjin’s boyfriends, or did he honestly always find the most desirable men?

They had dishware to sort. Namjoon moved a chair into the corner and sat on his hands. “He’s chronically clumsy,” Seokjin giggled, giving Namjoon the little head scritch that all his successive boyfriends had gotten used to. Jungkook used to lean into them with the softest smile. Namjoon’s reaction wasn’t far from it. Jieun hoped her jaw wasn’t twitching.

“I’ll just keep inventory?” Namjoon said uneasily. “I’m good at math, so after we find their online going prices of things you want to sell I’ll just…keep track of that, I guess,” Namjoon said.

“That’s normally Jieun’s job,” Seokjin said.

“Oh! Sorry. Don’t want to step on any toes,” Namjoon said, panicked already. He unintentionally made himself look scared, going abruptly wide-eyed. “Is there anything else I can—”

“Please do the math for me,” Jieun said. “I honestly don’t mind. I’m happy to have help.”

“Sucker,” Seokjin muttered under his breath.

Namjoon computed like C-3PO, numbers spouting out his mouth before he even had time to write them on the page, and Jieun wanted to curl up on his lap and watch those long, pretty hands scribble equations. Seokjin watched her closely, a smirk like a pleased cat on his lips. She simmered quietly, doing her best not to start slamming dishes around. They had three full sets of cheap china to sort through.

“I have a full set of dishes already,” Jieun said, waving her hand at the pile. “According to google, grandma’s dishes were worth more in retail but less to sell used, and they’re not machine-washable. You can have them all if you want.”

“They’re not…really my style,” Seokjin said. The printed poppies and forget-me-nots looked distinctly uneven and cheap.

“I’ll take a set,” Namjoon said. “I’ll probably break them all within the year anyway.”

“Plastic dishware for Namjoon,” Seokjin said with a giggle and plopped right down on his lap. Namjoon smiled gently, arms tight around Seokjin’s waist, face pressed to his shoulder. Seokjin watched Jieun stiffen and swallow down her jealousy. He bit back laughter.

Think about Jungkook, how his arms feel, how his sweet voice sounds. Jungkook isn’t as tall or smart, isn’t as elegant or poised, doesn’t have a job yet, doesn’t dress like a model. Fuck it. Think of Seokjin’s face when he finds out she’d landed the ex that beat him at his own game.

Her calm returned.

Seokjin and Namjoon packed all the dishes to keep and sell into their car. Jieun packed all the less valuable dishes into hers to donate the next day. Seokjin watched her carefully, eyed her over Namjoon’s shoulder when he went in for a kiss and his bashful Namjoon pressed his head against Seokjin’s neck instead. She smiled frostily.


“Seokjin and his new boyfriend are coming over tonight,” Jieun murmured into Jungkook’s shoulder-blade. He pulled his sweaty forehead out of the pillow to stare blearily at her, a flash of something a little devilish passing over his face for a moment.

“Don’t make me leave yet,” he whined. “I can’t really move my right leg.”

She sat up and grabbed the cream to massage the rope imprints on his knees. He groaned softly. “You sure it wasn’t too much?” She asked. He’d shyly hinted that he liked to be tied down and used, so that’s what she’d done. Purple bloomed down his neck and over his chest. Red brushed over his body, heating his skin and turning his face adorably blotchy. The soft ropes had left imprints on his arms and legs, had dug into the skin of his thighs, and his lips had chapped under her pussy.

At some point in the past, she’d learned, Seokjin had tied him to his own bed and ridden him within an inch of his life. “But you’re better,” he’d sighed. “Like…smaller. Less painful. And nicer. I can just…relax.”

Better than Seokjin. That was a victory if she’d ever heard one. Her boy. She couldn’t wait to throw it in Seokjin’s face.

“Today might not have been the best day for this,” she sighed, rolling him over. He’d come twice and was nearly comatose, immobile and unresponsive. He grunted and tried, ineffectually, to snuggle closer. “Do you think you’ll be able to move soon?”

“He’s not gonna go in your room, is he?” Jungkook muttered. “Just let me sleep here.”

She sighed and pushed him onto his back. He scowled and tried to pull her closer. His rubbery arms strained a little against her as she pulled back, and then dropped pathetically onto the sheets. His eyes slid all the way closed again.

She pulled another baby wipe out of the package on her nightstand and rubbed his face and neck. He tilted compliantly upwards. “Good boy,” she said. He smiled just a little. His thick, small pecs swelled with a sigh, but she didn’t play with his nipples like she usually would, too red with attention and sensitivity. It really would be better to let him stay. He’d worked so hard for her. Kicking him out on wobbly legs, stumbling and half asleep, seemed wrong, even if Seokjin would shortly be out in her dining room. “Okay,” she said, and he sighed with relief. “Just text me if you need anything.”


Namjoon stood slightly taller than Seokjin. He smiled so sweetly when he greeted Jieun and helped her carry the boxes from the back room, asking about her day the whole way. Darling. He was a little braver today, helping to unpack boxes and stack things, picking them up to inspect them, handling everything gently in his long, elegant hands. Seokjin hovered around him. They both stole enough sneaky glances at each other that they often caught each other staring and broke into identical grins.

“How long have you two been dating?” Jieun asked. They’d unpacked a couple boxes in only a half hour and then sat down to figure out what they might sell for.

“Oh, three weeks?” Seokjin said.

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, because we started the day after that shift at the club.”

Three weeks ago, Jungkook had turned up at Jieun’s door in all his wide-eyed glory. The thought brought the slightest little buzz to her still uncomfortably sensitive pussy. She shifted to try to make it go away. Jungkook lay in her bedroom at that moment and Seokjin had no idea. The tingling made no sign of leaving. Maybe she should call him out here to liven up the party.

“Three weeks,” Jieun said. “Moving fast.”

They gave each other smug, shy, puppy-love smiles. “We’re getting along,” Seokjin said.

“Must be nice,” Jieun said, hoping she sounded fond and not bitter. Namjoon gave Seokjin the warmest smile.

“He likes the sex,” Seokjin said. Namjoon snorted and ducked his head. “I’m not kidding,” Seokjin said, poking Namjoon’s shoulder. “Last night, we—”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon said, shoving him.

“No listen,” Seokjin said, leaning around him and trying to talk to Jieun. “Last night—”

“Stop it!” Namjoon said, face flushing as he shoved Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I really don’t need to hear about—” Jieun said.

“It’s not that,” Seokjin said. “I’m not just gonna spout details about our sex life.”

“That’s a first,” Jieun grumbled. All this shouting was going to wake Jungkook, and he wouldn’t enjoy sitting back in her room listening to his boyfriend howl about his sex life. Maybe he’d run out here on his own and tell Seokjin to shut the fuck up. That’d be fun. He wouldn’t be able to blow up without looking shitty in front of his new boyfriend.

“We got a noise complaint,” Seokjin said. “The neighbors thought someone was beating Namjoon.”

“They thought someone was beating you!” Namjoon said. “It had to be you. I didn’t yell that loud when you were—” he slapped a shy hand over his mouth and dissolved into giggles. “It was totally you.”

One day towards the beginning of Jungkook’s relationship with Seokjin, Jieun had heard loud, shrieking moans coming from her brother’s side of the house and spent only a few seconds frantically searching her drawers for ear plugs or headphones before throwing on shoes and racing out the front door for a long walk around the neighborhood. She’d thought those noises had been coming from Seokjin and spent the rest of the day with her skin crawling.

That evening, Jungkook came shyly out to the kitchen to pick up snacks and with angry red streaks and purple hickeys poking out of the collar of his t-shirt. Only then did Jieun realize that it had probably been Jungkook screaming. After that, with every suggestive sound she heard, she assumed it to be coming from Jungkook and not her own brother. She didn’t appreciate the suggestion that she might have been wrong sometimes.

Jieun also didn’t appreciate her petty, jealous brother holding hands and giggling with a beautiful man that he didn’t deserve while she sat alone on the other side of the table. And Seokjin, who knew her so well, smirked proudly at her when Namjoon couldn’t see.

Jieun’s bedroom door banged open.

Jungkook, gloriously ragged in his tight jeans and bed hair, stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, scowling at the party around the table. Fresh hickeys stood out on his neck and hips, rope-lines around his wrists, lips and eyes still swollen and red, the traces of finger-nail scratches down his chest. Here he was, the life of the party. Jieun didn’t even care about him blowing her cover. Perfect.

The room fell silent. Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up under his bangs. A decorative spoon fell between his limp fingers. Seokjin’s eyes bugged out of his head, mouth gaping open and face flushing a red as bright as the scratches on Jungkook’s chest. “What are you—” he said. His eyes snapped his face around to Jieun with blank shock, and then fell to the edge of the table. Jieun couldn’t help her grin.

“Hi Namjoon,” Jungkook said, voice raspy and soft.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said. Jieun sat up a little, suddenly confused. Namjoon? “Hi. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. You’re with Jieun?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Wow,” Namjoon laughed nervously. “Um…Seokjin, do you know Jungkook?”

“I mean, kinda…” Seokjin said.

“We dated,” Jungkook said while pulling a water glass out of the cabinet. “For like, a year. Broke up about a year ago.” Namjoon’s eyes got that alarmed, buggy look to them again. “Funny that you ghosted me the one night we were all in the club together and Seokjin was talking about hoping I never got another boyfriend.”

And that’s when Jieun began to feel pieces fall into place.

Because now Namjoon was looking at Seokjin, and Seokjin was looking at the table, and Jungkook hadn’t actually looked at her since he walked out of the bedroom.

Over the next minute, Jieun learned how Jungkook and Seokjin had both ended up at the same club one night, how it happened to be the club with the DJ Jungkook was flirting with, how Seokjin realized this and decided he could offer that DJ a better option, how Jungkook watched Seokjin leave the club with Namjoon and how Namjoon hadn’t bothered to text him back that night.

And if the timeline lined up correctly, Jungkook had shown up at Jieun’s house the next morning, angry and hoping to catch Seokjin in the act with the excuse of demanding his stuff back. He’d found her. He’d hesitated. She baited him in. He gave her everything she wanted, but not, as she’d thought, because he found her as irresistible as she found him.

Because he wanted to get Seokjin like this, stammering and frantic, clinging to one of Namjoon’s sleeves and trying not to let his fury get in the way of his supposed innocence while Jungkook stood in the back and muttered “Your sister fucks me better than you can, Jin.”

“Shut up!” Seokjin yelled. Namjoon pursed his lips and pulled his sleeve out of Seokjin’s grip.

It felt a little good, a little hollowly satisfying. She sat calmly with her hands in her lap and watched this all fall apart. Seokjin’s perfect love life, all his gloating, all his superiority, spat back in his face, and she didn’t have to lift a finger. It took a full five minutes for him to turn around and scream “You slept with my ex?” She only had to shrug and smirk, and her part was done. He had no right to even be that angry, not with a past and a current boyfriend both hurt and pissed.

Namjoon finally took a deep breath and gave Seokjin the temporary benefit of the doubt with a little kiss to the forehead and a promise to talk things out at Seokjin’s apartment. What a Saint. He apologized to Jieun and gathered their things while Seokjin bickered with a bitter, dismissive Jungkook.

Oh, how the mighty fall. Poetic. Seokjin’s distressed, apologetic, ashamed face was the last thing Jieun saw before the door closed.

Jieun stared quietly at the mess of her grandmother’s belongings over the dining room table. Jungkook quietly sipped his water.

“Sorry for causing a scene,” Jungkook said hesitantly. “Do you want help cleaning up?”

“Go home,” she said. The room fell quiet again. Jungkook gripped his water glass and stood so still in her peripheral vision. It blurred.

He left the room. Why had she done that? Seokjin’s reaction was better than she ever imagined and she didn’t have to deal with it. They’d gotten what they wanted. Should she really be so upset that he’d had an ulterior motive too?

Jungkook emerged from her room with his clothes, hat, and backpack on, and the leather jacket she’d borrowed on his shoulders, hickeys, scratches, and rope burn hidden, but his red, swollen eyes were closed off and cold. “We both just wanted to get back at Seokjin, right?” Jungkook asked. “Like…he’s your brother. You don’t get along. I just assumed…”

Except her goal had been to win one of Seokjin’s boyfriends away from him, and if Jungkook’s aim had been Seokjin instead of her the whole time, Seokjin had just won again, and she’d never had Jungkook in the first place.

“Get out,” she said softly. He nodded politely, unperturbed, and walked out the front door leaving her, once again, absolutely alone.


Halfway through work the following day, she found herself thinking about that leather jacket, how she’d been so worried that Seokjin might guess he’d been there. Hadn’t she wanted that? To set him on edge and make him unsure? No. She’d always known Seokjin’s awareness of the situation would probably signal the end of their relationship. Joke’s over. Go home.

And what about the way she felt with his head between her thighs? Had she been thinking about Seokjin then?

And what about afterwards when they lay together in her bed, peaceful and alone with his face in her hair and her hands on his skin?

“Jieun? Did you update my schedule?”

“I, um…oh, no. No, I didn’t. I’ll get to that right now. I’m so sorry.”

Her boss leaned around the door, the director of an art museum who, counted on Jieun for organization, who praised her constantly for her perfection, for being the best secretary the museum had ever had. “Everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Distracted. Didn’t get much sleep.”

“Jieun,” the director said, stepping closer with a calculating look. “You should find yourself a man soon.”

Jieun had to laugh, indignation under a smile, like always. “I don’t need a man.”

The director laughed back, smoothly styled gray hair holding stiffly in place. “Don’t I know it. No one needs a man. My life started when I ditched mine. However,” she said, placing a motherly hand on Jieun’s chair. “They’re nice to have around. Takes the stress off a little. I’ve seen you brush off every man in this office. Now,” she leaned a little closer, “they’re not nearly in your league, but that’s another story.”

Jieun laughed again, a real one.

“If you find one though,” the director said, pleased to see her smiling, “you keep him. A good man is worth the effort.”

“He’s no good if he’s using me to spite someone else, though, is he?” Jieun said.

“Nope,” the director said. “That’s ridiculous. Little boys can be such shit sometimes. Tell him to hit the road. About the schedule, you never miss anything. We’ll just assume I missed something, and that my schedule is perfect. I’m taking a well-earned trip to the coffee pot to give my eyes a rest.”

“When you look again, I’m sure you’ll find it perfectly up to date,” Jieun said, heart even a little heavier.


“Sell,” Seokjin said dismissively. He looked tired. She was sure he would have given these brass letter openers more consideration on a better day. She set them aside in her own pile to shove them off on him later down the line. They worked with the kind of silence that got louder every minute, but he could look her in the eye, and smile without grimacing, so he must be doing decently.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Jieun groaned, pulling out another box. “You know, I gave away half the things from the last two batches that I wanted to keep. There’s just so much clutter. How did Grandma fit all this in her tiny house?”

“She used her stuff to replace her husband,” Seokjin snorted. “Hoarder. That’s what you’re going to be though. Lonely and surrounded by junk.”

Jieun couldn’t answer around the lump in her throat.

“Sorry,” Seokjin said softly when she didn’t bite back. “I’m just…kinda pissed that you fucked my ex.”

“Yeah, it was shitty, I get it,” she said. “It’s not my fault we have the exact same taste in men.”

“Gay?” Seokjin said.

“Subby,” Jieun said.

“Oh,” Seokjin laughed.

“Smart, manly, hot, tall, and subby,” she said.

“Polite,” Seokjin added.



“Naturally,” she scoffed.

“Musical,” he added. “Ruthlessly vengeful.”

“Ruthlessly vengeful? What did Namjoon do to get back at you?” Jieun said.

He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “He found a way to blame himself, which was pretty much the worst thing anyone has ever done to me. We’ve talked it out though. He’s also forgiving, which is new. I kinda like it, even if it does make me feel like the worst person on the planet.”

Jieun laughed softly, unusually happy for him. “I’m glad. I wanted to show you up, not ruin your new relationship.”

“You know, I started this relationship to hurt Jungkook because, and this may surprise you, I’m a fucking asshole, but—” he stopped and waited for Jieun to stop laughing. “I got really invested,” he said when she gave him room to talk. “He’s a great guy.”

“Same,” she said sadly. “Started this to hurt you, but…I think I really wanted him too.”

“Gross,” Seokjin muttered, just to keep things from getting to emotional. She appreciated it. He sighed tiredly. “Fucking Jungkook,” he said. “You want to date him, don’t you?”

“I want him to apologize first.”

“There’s my girl,” Seokjin said.

“Fuck off.”

“Can I have those brass knives actually?”

They finished unpacking in tired, uncomfortable friendliness. “So you don’t mind if I date him,” she said as he packed up his things.

“I suppose you could do worse things,” he grumbled.

“I don’t know if he still wants anything to do with me past getting back at you,” she said. He had walked out with only a polite nod and no indication of regret.

“He gets easily attached to things,” Seokjin said. “I’d be hopeful. And don’t ever,” he said, pointing a finger at her and pulling what she was sure he thought was a threatening face, lips poking out and eyes round and ridiculous, “expect me to be nice to him. Not even in front of Mom and Dad. And I will tell them why.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Go fuck Namjoon.”

“He’s not actually that big of a sub,” Seokjin sighed. “He’s more of a middle-of the road kinda guy. I’m kinda enjoying it though. His dick is HUGE, and he does this thing when he’s in me where he—”

“Goodnight!” Jieun yelped and slammed the door in his face.


Work didn’t usually require long walks around the museum, but Jieun hadn’t realized it would be a day of touring rich patrons around the exhibits with the director, and hadn’t worn flats. At the foot of her apartment stairs, she glanced around. No one watching. She heard no one in the top hallway. She began the most undignified climb, hand over hand along the railing, holding as much weight off her poor feet as possible. Her blouse smeared on the dirty railing. Oh well.

Like a phantom, Jungkook appeared at the top of the staircase. Jieun froze, staring up at him. His lips popped open like he wanted to say something, but he hovered there uncomfortably. She slowly removed herself from her undignified embrace of the railing and stood up straight, trying not to look too caught. His lips twitched like he wanted to smile.

“What are you doing here,” she muttered.

“Ha-ha, um.” He glanced behind him, towards her apartment. “I was…leaving a message.”

“You didn’t just text me?” she said. The stabbing pains in her heels bagan to make her scowl twist again.

He ducked his head. “That seemed lazy.”

What a sweet, little romantic. Well, she’d just have to go read it. She took a deep sigh and then wrapped her body around the railing and kept hauling herself up.

Jungkook pattered softly down the stairs, so little noise for such a strong person, and her heart sank a little, expecting him to patter right past her and away, shyly ducking out of her life again. But he stopped and carefully peeled her off the railing with little murmurs of “may I?” and “sorry.” She practically floated the rest of the way up with her feet barely touching the steps, an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, his around her waist.

“Are you okay?” he asked at the top.

“Obviously not,” she said, and he fidgeted nervously. “Heels. Walked a lot more than usual today.” Jungkook frowned at her feet.

She was tempted, as soon as she got inside, to kick her heels off and crawl to the living room couch, but she held out for her dignity and carefully removed them. She picked up the letter off her entry rug and wobbled to the couch, maintaining stoicism even with the feeling of sharp rocks lodged in her bones.

Jungkook must have noticed the flinching and wobbling. As soon as she sat down, he pulled her feet into his lap and pressed his thumbs to the arches.

“Oooh,” she groaned, and flopped back against the armrest. “But my feet are so gross, Jungkook.”

He hesitated. “They’re really not,” he said softly. “Trust me. I’m a guy. I’ve seen some really, really nasty feet before.”

She huffed, eyeing him curiously. He looked up gently under his lashes, soft and kind like he hadn’t used her to spite his ex and walked out without a fuss a week before. She opened the letter. He’d written it on a note with a line of yellow flowers down the front and “Thank You” embossed across the center. She blinked at it for a moment. Jungkook shuffled nervously, warm hands pressing steadily against her cold, aching feet.


Dear Jieun,

I’m terrible at this, so we’ll see how this goes. I feel like a kid trying to get out of trouble with his mom. Haha. This is about the whole Namjoon and Seokjin thing. I’ve been thinking about this all week. I got really mad when you just threw me out, but I realized that I had just assumed that we both just wanted to hurt Seokjin. I don’t know why I thought that. I’m sorry. I promise I think more of you than that.

I miss you. I’m confused now, and I’m worried you’ll reject me again, and I won’t blame you, but I'm sorry. You’re an incredible woman. I worry that I’m not enough for you, but please let me stay with you a little longer, and maybe I can earn my way back to you.

Love, Jungkook


Jieun read the letter twice, put it back in the envelope, and rested it on her lap. She took a deep, light breath, and chest filling with air. The hurt of the week loosened its grip on her heart. Jungkook watched her nervously. “Pretty stationary,” she said softly, struggling not to coo from how cute everything was.

Jungkook shrugged shyly. “Mom gives me stationary every Christmas to make me write thank you notes. I always forget.”

Dear, dear, sweet Jungkook with his adorable letter. She leaned her head back against the cushions and sighed. “I love your hands, Jungkook. They’re so warm.”

He shuffled forward and pressed both feet flat against his body, hot and hard against her soles. Jieun smiled and wiggled her toes. He yelped and giggled a little, hugging them tighter.

“You’re lovely, Jungkook. Even if you’re only twenty.”

“My birthday is in a week,” he said softly. “I’ll be twenty-one.”

Jieun held up the letter. “This is lovely, by the way. But you’re wrong. I was only in this to hurt Seokjin.” His gentle hands stilled on her feet, eyes widening. “But I was so hurt last week. I figured it was because I had wanted to make Seokjin’s ex fall in love with me. He hates it when men like me, and I hate how great his boyfriends always are. I thought, If Seokjin’s ex just leaves me as soon as he gets Seokjin’s attention, that’s another win for Seokjin.”

Jieun pushed her feet softly against his stomach. “Seokjin must have known I would want you. After I had a chance at you, I just wanted you more and more. When you confronted Seokjin, I thought you didn’t care about me. That hurt more than thinking I hadn’t gotten back at Seokjin like I wanted to. I don’t care about that nearly as much. So, you’re more than welcome to come back if you want,” she finished, turning the letter over again in her hands. “I miss you.”

Jungkook squeezed Jieun’s feet softly. She wanted his whole, warm body over hers. A gentle affection fell over both of them.

“I’m sorry. Thank you,” Jungkook said. “And I’m glad to know I’m not quite the only asshole here.”

“You’re really not,” she said. “You’re in good company.”

“Can I make you some tea or something?” he said, rubbing her ankles.

“Am I forgiven?”


She got a little, funny ache in her throat and eyes that passed quickly, leaving tiredness and light relief behind. “Thank you. I’m going to go soak my feet in the tub.”

Jungkook brought her tea there, knowing exactly where she kept her favorite Oolong. She’d stripped off her work skirt and sat there in only her blouse, a little rumpled and dirty from the railing outside, and he knelt behind her with his face pressed to her side and his arms around her waist.

“I’m thinking about getting my hair cut,” she said.

“That’ll look good,” he said. She swished her feet around in the hot water, filling the silence. Jungkook kissed her through her shirt. She scratched his hair and breathed in the steam, feeling the deep, safe satisfaction of a man at her back, finally.

“How was school?” she asked.

“Good day,” he said, soft voice rumbling against her. “I don’t have a lot of assignments. The art history lecture this afternoon was really interesting. The semester is just starting though. It’ll get harder.”

When her tea cooled enough to drink and they’d spent enough time in comfortable silence, Jungkook turned her around and dried her feet with towel. The pain had faded, as had the cold, and every touch had Jieun sinking into calmness, sleepy and comfortable. Jungkook lifted her right leg and pressed a reverent little kiss to her big toe, then the ball of her foot, her instead, her ankle. She sucked in a breath and watched him advance with the soft brush of his lips to her knee. “Pretty legs, Jieun,” he murmured.

“Same to you,” she said, tracing her other small foot up one of his spread thighs, thick and hard in his black jeans.

Jungkook laughed against her knee, palms smooth on her calves. “Gonna get right back into thi—ugh.”

Jieun pressed her toes gently against the front of his pants. “We don’t have to,” she said. “I’d be happy to cuddle. I could use it after today.”

He looked up at her with fluttering lashes, jaw slack and hips tense against her foot. “Kook?” she giggled.

“How are your feet?” he choked.

“Much better,” she sighed. She leaned down, foot sliding lower and then off between his legs, and he rose to meet her, lips to lips in the quiet of her bathroom.


They finished dinner in each other’s arms, nudging each other out of the way in the kitchen and leaving gentle touches as they passed by the laptop blaring music on the counter. He looked as comfortable as he had back when he did this with Seokjin, orbiting each other around the sink and putting dishes away, giggling and flicking water at each other. He seemed perfectly comfortable to hover in silence, lips against Jieun’s neck, hands on her waist.

Only after Jungkook had washed all the dishes did he curl up in bed with her and slip his hands under her shirt.

“Oh, you tease,” she laughed, relaxed against his chest as he ran his fingers slowly over her nipples through her bralette. She wiggled into a better position so he could pull her clothes off and rub over her whole body, so he could flip her over and pull her chest to his mouth, hands on her ass.

“Sorry I don’t have much for you to play with,” she said, most of the swell of her tiny breast easily sucked into his mouth.

“I’ll play with whatever you’ve got,” he murmured. “Not really what I’m here for.”

“You don’t care about my body?” she asked.

Jungkook snorted. “Not what I meant. Don’t do that to me.” He trailed a hand between her legs, tickling over the panties. She sighed and spread her legs. What a lovely thing to come home to. Maybe he should just move in.

“Do you like this?” she asked, shifting up a little so she could press the top of her foot gently up against his balls.

His face went abruptly blank. “Uh,” he said. She squished them a little, so soft and delicate on her skin. His eyes fluttered. “Feel like you could find a better angle,” he said. “And they’re really cold.”

She giggled. “Another night then.”

“Yeah,” he said, still unfocussed. “Another night.”

Jungkook drew it out, more honest and caring than they’d ever been before, less businesslike. No need to get it done. So much more sincerity. By the time Jieun’s panties were off and his pants had been thrown over the side of the bed, the sun had set outside, locking them in their little world with the curtains drawn and the string lights on around the ceiling. The light softened Jungkook further, made him smaller under her body. His eyes still glittered in the light.

“You’re curvier than I am,” Jieun joked as she lined his dick up with her pussy. He just whimpered and squirmed. She rocked forward again, letting the tip nudge her clit instead of sliding into her. His jaw locked as he tried to keep in the shaky sigh. “What if I just sat here?” she said, nuzzling down, labia spread wetly over his hard cock. He whimpered. She rocked back and forth, the latex odd on her soft skin. The hot head of his cock nudged bluntly at her clit again and she sighed, enjoying it, imagining that he had no condom on and left precum sticky on her swollen lips.

“Please,” he whined.

“Ask nicely.”

He rubbed his hands shakily over his face, swallowing hard. “I did.”


He squirmed and just nudged more. She sighed, eyes closed, mouth open. “Jieun, please. Feels so good.”

She flicked the pad of her thumb gently back and forth across his nipple. “Patience, baby. It’ll feel even better if you wait for it. Please get tested. I wanna ride you without a condom.”

He groaned, face twisted up.

“What’ll Seokjin say?” he said, a little while later when she’d gotten tired and decided she preferred stretching out on her front with Jungkook doing all the work with his hips, arms on either side of her body and face close overhead.

“Why’d you stop?” she moaned.

He hesitated. “Now’s not a good time,” he agreed. “Sorry.”

“He said he won’t be nice to you, but he seemed fine with us going out,” she said, experimentally tightening down as she spoke to listen to his ragged breath stutter.

“Hm,” he said, still not moving. He started tapping her little ass gently as if curious to see what would happen.

“Having fun,” she said pointedly.

“Cute,” he said, and then started rocking his hips again, thick, hard, and hot inside her.

“Grab the massager,” she groaned.

As he dug around in her dresser, as cool and calm as if she hadn’t just ground everything to a halt right in the middle of work, she stretched out on her back and watched his body move. How nice to be so easily back to normal. The little dimples on his back caught shadow. She could see muscles shift in his thighs from across the room. One of these days she’d have to get him on his belly and play with that beautiful butt for hours.

Jungkook returned with the massager, more lube, and a cocky look on his face. “Feeling good, babe?” he asked as she writhed on her back, so much sensation rocking her from that one little point.

“Would you be into it if I slapped you?” she gasped.

“Probably not,” he giggled. She did the next best thing and pulled his hair till he buried his face in her shoulder and chased it, whimpering against her skin. The massager fumbled out of his shaking hand. She grabbed it. When she pressed it around the bud of his nipple instead of her clit, he jolted, driving deep in hard into her, breath raking raggedly in and out of his throat.

“Good boy,” she moaned, giving up her own pleasure to watch him squirm, to feel him clinging to her body.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m so young?” he asked breathlessly, a little while later with his cock softening and the condom filled and thrown out.

She hesitated, adjusting the knees on either side of his head. “I’m only twenty-four,” she muttered. “I wasn’t worried. If it doesn’t work out…” she hesitated. He was still in school. Probably a junior or senior. He had a while of busy classes and unpredictable schedule left, uncertainty, angst, and then trying to find a job, moving away. He might be exiting that era of change, might be just entering it.

But she hadn’t left it quite yet either.

Jungkook waited, mouth a little open, hands gripping her thighs. His little, pink tongue poked out. “If it doesn’t work out, oh well,” she decided. “No use worrying.” She sat low on his waiting mouth and relegated all her focus to not suffocating him under her pleasure.

“Don’t be like Seokjin,” he said afterwards.

“I’m a lot like Seokjin,” Jieun warned him.

“Don’t assume I’m cheating on you and do something stupid.”

“I’m not that much like Seokjin.”

“He’s such an idiot,” Jungkook muttered. “Should have just dated you to begin with.” He grinned fondly, the little freckle on his chin standing out. Perfect. She tangled her cold feet with his legs and pressed their foreheads together.

“Mine now,” she murmured, and loved the way he shivered happily and squished himself against her pillow, her pink blanket pulled up under his chin, his strong body like a heater against hers. Maybe they’d have to talk about that mommy kink sometime. “Goodnight, baby.” He wrapped himself like a boa constrictor around her waist and held on. Seokjin didn’t pop into her head, even peripherally, and she fell asleep happy and warm.