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#bts oneshot
httpknjoon · 2 days ago
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(re)starting over again | kth; 1
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plot | after getting in a car accident, your boyfriend of four years, taehyung, forgot everything happened five years ago, which includes you.
words | 4.3k
genres | fluff, angst
pairing | taehyung x reader
warnings |  mentions of blood, leukemia, amnesia, dui, oc is a nurse
note | unedited. like, raw writing. i’ll edit whenever i can. a lot of marvel. author’s note is below.
masterlist
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“i’ll be out at six in the evening.”
your eyes scanned the list, which contains the schedule and time duties of the nurses of the whole hospital. it’s currently your fifteen minute break and you are spending it on your phone, talking to your boyfriend.
“great. i’ll wait by the usual spot.”  taehyung said.
“okay.” you smiled and looked on your wristwatch. “the shop’s not open yet?”
“it’s already open since two hours ago. a little crowded actually. many students are coming since we got new pastries to serve.”
“well, maybe you should go back to work.” you quipped.
you heard taehyung chuckled, “nah, jimin can handle it. i am talking with someone important.”
you can feel your cheeks warming up with his words. although it’s been four years since your relationship began, taehyung never failed to make you fall for him just like the first time. he try his best to always put you first, above anything else.
“did you have your lunch?” he asked.
“if you consider tuna sandwich as lunch, then yes. i already had my lunch.” you replied with a sarcastic tone.
“take care of yourself. let’s eat something better later, okay? how about—”
“hey, y/n. it’s jimin. sorry for interrupting but i need your boyfriend outside. bunch of middle school kids are in the bakeshop right now. i can’t deal with them alone.”
you cannot help but to laugh when jimin cut taehyung off. you can hear your boyfriend in the background, shouting at his best friend. taehyung then got his phone back.
“sorry about that, love. i guess, i’ll go back to work now.” he mumbled, sounding annoyed. “boooooring.” 
“oh, come on.” you laughed again. “i’ll get back to work too. my break’s ending in two minutes. love you.”
“love you too. i’ll message you before i get there.”
“okay, okay.”
the call ended with you, smiling like a fool. you kept your phone back to your scrubs’ pocket. you continued the rest of the day going rounds to your young patients. you work in the pediatric unit in the hospital. almost everyday, you meet different kids with different health issues. they usually stay for a couple of days or weeks. you only have one patient who was there before you even worked in this hospital.
“you look happy today, nurse y/n.” your patient, naeun, said.
she is the patient you have ever since you got here. the little girl is suffering from a rare form of leukemia. but, you never see any loneliness from her as she was always greeting you with her sweet smile.
“i’m always happy, naeun.” you told her while checking her vitals.
“but you are smiling much wider today.” she replied.
“that’s because someone made me smile today.”
the kid’s eyes widened as her lips formed to a small circle, “oh! oh! is it your prince? the one who’s in your phone?”
the prince was of course, your boyfriend. there was a time when naeun saw you phone’s lockscreen, which is you and taehyung in a halloween party. you were wearing costumes as disney characters and taehyung chose to have the casual prince charming look. seeing this, naeun believed that you are a princess who works as a nurse who also have a prince. you don’t want to ruin the kid’s imagination. so, you just let her think that way. plus, you find it endearing.
“yes, naeun. it’s because my prince is treating me well.”
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“how’s the wedding planning?”
you looked to your co-worker and best friend, jisoo, while cleaning up things in your locker. you noticed her letting out a small smile as her eyes shined with excitement. she sat on the bench, changing her work shoes to more comfortable one.
“it feels stressful but exciting at the same time. we went to a garden yesterday for the wedding venue and it was so magical! it’s like a fairy place.” she shared. “also, yours and the other bridesmaids’ gowns will be sent out tomorrow. also, taehyung’s and other groomsmen’s suits.”
“finally! i get to wear something other than my scrubs.” you quipped, making the two of you laugh.
as you sat beside her to change you footwear too, she asked, “how about you?”
“how about me?” you asked her back, pretending that you don’t know what she’s talking about. but when she gave you the you know what i am talking about look, you gave up on acting dumb. “we’re fine. me and taehyung already talk about our future plans for a long time. so, i am not really not that eager to get married. i’m just waiting for him to pop the question.”
you gave jisoo a reassuring smile. you are not in a hurry anyway. if taehyung won’t propose any time now, it’s fine. but if he pops that question, you are already sure what to answer. you don’t mind when or where he will do it. as long as you have each other, you’re fine.
“oh, i wish i have your patience.” jisoo chuckled. 
when her phone rang, she excused herself to answer it. you also noticed your phone beeped because of a notification. it was from taehyung.
love
sorry left the shop a little late. i’ll be on my way :)
you replied a simple ok with a smile. gathering up your bag, you see jisoo all prepared too.
“joon’s already waiting outside. how about tae?” she asked, since she don’t want to leave you alone.
“he’s on his way. it’s fine, i’ll wait by the shed.” you told her.
you two walked out of the hospital together, waving goodbye to your other colleagues who’s still in duty. both of you no longer wear your scrubs, just some everyday clothes. you saw namjoon’s car resting near the waiting shed, where you and taehyung will meet. jisoo hugged him while you just waved at him.
“are you sure i can leave you here? we can still wait here with you. right, babe?” jisoo turned on namjoon who nodded.
“it’s fine.” you repeated. “just go home already. get some rest!”
you smiled at her. namjoon gave you a small bye before letting jisoo inside the car. before leaving, she rolled down the window and waved at you.
“text me when you get home!” she yelled as they got away.
alone in the well-lit shed, you sat on one of its bench. you looked at your watch, it’s ten minutes past six. you thought that taehyung may be close now since the shop is just a twenty minute drive to the hospital. although it’s not that far, he does not want you walking alone. so, he still picks you up. sitting there, you just watched on whatever passed by you. people, cars, and the dark sky with the moon glowing. since you’re still in the hospital’s waiting shed, you can see two ambulance leaving. it lets out a loud siren with its swinging red lights. after a few minutes, you felt a cold blow of wind, making you hug yourself. reaching for your bag to get your cardigan, your phone rang. it’s your boyfriend.
you accepted the call, “hey, love. i’m here in the usual—”
“hey, y/n. it’s sungho from the paramedic team. taehyung just got in an accident.”
you immediately stood up, dropping your bag that was on your lap. your throat ran dry. you felt your heart beating much faster than you had seconds ago.
“we have him right now with us. we’re on our way to the hospital.” sungho ended the call.
you tried to stay calm since that is what you were trained to do. but failed after you saw two ambulance coming back to the hospital. you picked up your bag and ran back to the hospital. you see other nurses you know waiting by the emergency room. julia, one of your friends, looked at you, surprised and confused by your teary expression.
“why—”
“taehyung!” you cried when you saw your boyfriend on a spinal board from the ambulance, with no signs of awakeness.
you paused when you witnessed blood coming from his forehead. you tried to go near him, calling him, but as they moved him to a bed to the emergency room. everything happened quickly that you ended up standing there in shock while tears are rolling down your cheeks.
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“here, eat something.”
jisoo handed you a paper bag but you just shook your head, rejecting the food. you’re calmer now but still in shock. it’s been two hours since you saw taehyung being pushed to the emergency room. it took minutes before you moved on the spot you were at a while ago. julie kept you company after she aided the other patient. she tried to calm you and messaged jisoo about what happened. next thing you know, your best friend is hugging you. now, you three are waiting by the emergency room. you and jisoo sat on the cold, metal row of chair while namjoon stood on the other side.
“maybe you should go home first, i’ll go with you. namjoon can wait here for taehyung.” jisoo assured you but you just shook your head again.
“i... i can wait. i’m not hungry. i don’t feel like sleeping too.” you answered, almost emotionless. but a single tear rolled down your cheek again. “there’s a lot of blood from his head, jisoo.”
your best friend felt sorry on how stressed you are. she hugged you and whispered it will be okay over and over. she pat your back gently to calm you again. 
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“how are you, love?”
no one answered when you got in taehyung’s private room. it’s been four days and your boyfriend is still unconscious. there’s a bandage wrapped around his forehead. he also had small scratches and wounds on his face. fortunately, no bones were affected. only his head. the doctor said that he may possibly wake up any moment. the driver of the car crashed on taehyung’s car was drunk and speeding by a red light when it happened. the guy is currently in police custody.
since almost everyone in the hospital knows the of you, your other co-nurses are willing to take cover of your duties. you spent those four days taking care of taehyung, just in his room. jimin took over their bakeshop during daytime and drop by the hospital at night to let you take a rest. jisoo and namjoon would bring food time by time and stay for a bit after their works.
“hello, y/n.” jimin greeted you, just walking out the comfort room. he checked the time. “it’s still early. did you even sleep?”
you tried to smile, “i tried. i can’t. so i thought of just staying here.”
“oh, okay. i’ll go get some coffee. do you want some?” he asked.
“no, i’m fine. thanks.” you replied.
jimin left the room, wearing his cap. once again, you tried to talk with taehyung. you heard that talking can help to wake him up. you told him about your day. it’s not really eventful since you got nothing to do. but to go back home and hospital. 
“i miss you, love.” you tried not to cry, biting your inner cheek. “please wake up.”
you ended up napping, resting your head on taehyung’s bed. you slowly opened your eyes when you felt his hand moving from yours. you looked up from him, he’s awake.
“love?” you called him and he looked at you  blankly. 
you immediately clicked the button that was placed to call the nurse. taehyung just followed you with his blank stare.
“how do you feel?” you asked me as you wait for the nurse.
“who are you?”
your smile immediately dropped as you heard that. a doctor and nurse came in and checked his vital signs. you were left quiet on the side. you tried to process what taehyung said.
he got his head hurt, y/n. maybe it’s trauma. you tried to talk yourself about it. the door opened again and you looked up. jimin is visibly shocked as he held his coffee cup tighter, spilling a little.
“jimin.” you heard taehyung said.
the doctor asked for you to talk with her outside when they finished. before walking out, you see jimin approaching taehyung.
“how are you, tae?”
“what... what happened?” taehyung asked back.
jimin and you looked at each other before you follow the doctor.
“he doesn’t seem to remember everything.” you muttered. “i mean, he remembers his friend. but he don’t remember me nor the accident.”
“it can be because of the head injury he had. if that’s the case, we should run tests to know.”
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“what.. what happened?” taehyung asked his best friend.
he barely remembers anything. his last memory is having a drink with jimin after the first opening of their bakeshop. his head hurts. when he opened his eyes minutes ago and saw a girl beside him, he tried to call her the name he remembers.
lily
but the girl did not move. he tried to move his hand and that’s when he saw you moved. you seemed surprised too when you see him awake. taehyung thought that maybe you were in the wrong room. but when you asked him, how is he. he can’t help but to ask who are you.
“you got to a car accident nights ago. you were asleep for four days.” jimin explained.
“car accident? did i drove drunk?”
“no, the guy who crashed on you was. you were just on your way to pick y/n.”
taehyung squinted his eyes as he tried to remember the name, “y/n?”
jimin looked at him, “your girlfriend.” 
“no, lily is my girlfriend.” taehyung answered with a smile. “me and lily have been going out for almost eight months.”
  “that was five years ago, tae. you and y/n have been together for four years now. namjoon introduced you to each other in the shop.” jimin tried to talk calmly.
“but we just opened the shop.”
jimin can feel his heart breaking on what is happening now. it breaks for you and taehyung. he saw how stressed you were for the last four days and now he feel bad that his best friend seems to forget events in his life. jimin reached for his phone in his pocket to show it to taehyung.
“it’s september 1, 2021.” jimin pointed out.
it’s 2021 and the last thing he remembers was back in 2016.
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“the doctor said that it’s dissociative or selective amnesia. because of the accident, he forgot certain memories of his life. based on what jimin told me, he forgot everything after their bakeshop’s opening. he... he basically forgot about me. us.”
you sighed before resting your head low. namjoon, jisoo, and jimin looked at you in pity and sadness. you wanted to cry again. you wanted to ask why does it have to happen this way. but you know you won’t get answers. you look at taehyung, who’s sleeping peacefully.
“will his memories return?” namjoon asked.
“no one knows. they said that there are cases that they come back fully or bits by bits. there are also cases that it stays like that.” you replied with a threatening sob.
you eyed on jisoo, who seems ready to hug you anytime now. but you tried to smile and just shook your head. minutes later, you spoke again.
“also, we can go home tomorrow. jimin will help me with taehyung and our stuff. i took a month long leave. so i can take care of him.”
you sighed again before looking at them, “thank you so much, guys. everything meant a lot.”
each one of them gave you a warm hug. in every hug, you felt like you’re giving in as your knees felt weaker. jisoo hugged you the longest.
“it felt like we’re starting over again.”
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“welcome home!”
as soon as you opened the house’s door, taehyung spotted picture frames of him with you. he seems really happy with you on those images. he tried to identify each picture.
“don’t worry. you don’t have to force yourself to remember it.”
he looked at his side. it was you, staring at the pictures too with a small smile. jimin, on the other hand, dropped your bags straight to your bedroom.
“do you want to eat first or take a rest?” you asked taehyung.
“rest.” he replied.
you nodded and walked him to your shared bedroom. seeing a single, large bed, taehyung can’t help but to feel uncomfortable. he knows that you two used to sleeping together. but he remember nothing with you.
“i’ll go sleep in the guestroom for the meantime. sorry, i still haven’t move my stuffs. i’ll move them tomorrow.” you told him, like you’re reading his mind.
“thank... thank you.” taehyung said awkwardly.
“no problem, lo— taehyung.”
you walked out awkwardly, leaving him alone with jimin. taehyung sat on the bed and he can smell the mix of his perfume and a lavender scent. he was removing his shoes when jimin stood in front of him.
“y/n is nice, okay? don’t be shy to ask for help or talk to her if you want to know something. you guys will get along well.” jimin assured him. “if you want to talk to me, just give me a call anytime. here’s your phone.”
he handed him a model of phone that he just saw for the first time, “my phone?”
“yep, you bought that like a year ago. it’s almost the same as your old phone. but it’s bigger.” jimin explained and taehyung nodded. “i’ll have breakfast here with you tomorrow. so you won’t feel awkward, okay?”
taehyung nodded quietly. he feels like a kid. but he’s thankful to have jimin with him. also, you. even though he doesn’t really know who you are except that you are his girlfriend.
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“so, why did lily left me?”
taehyung sat on one of the empty chairs in the bakeshop. it’s been two weeks since he went home from the hospital. so far, living with you is like living with a housemate except you cook him something to eat everyday and help him when his head hurts. he felt less awkward with you. it’s not like he consider you as his friend. but he finds you caring and nice, just like jimin said. now, he’s with his friend, who picked him up, since he feel bored staying at home with no one to talk to except you. he’s still shy on chatting with you. plus, he have questions he knows that he can’t ask you.
“she did not leave you, tae. you are the one who asked for a breakup.” jimin replied while wiping the counter.
“that’s not true.” taehyung said. “how can i breakup with her? i mean, you know how much i like her.”
“actually,” jimin looked up to him. “you did not tell me why. you literally just knocked on my door one evening, drunk, to tell me you broke up with her.”
“ugh, i hate myself! she was perfect!” taehyung grumbled like a kid.
jimin looks at him, who seemed offended, “it’s not nice to talk like that. you literally have a girlfriend.”
“that i barely know.” taehyung replied carelessly.
“did you even try to know her?” his friend snapped back. “you know, tae, i understand that you are in another timeline. but don’t you think that it’s a little mean to talk about y/n like she’s just a stranger. do you even want to know her?”
taehyung can feel that jimin was mad and the guy only got mad a few times. looking back on the last two weeks he had with you, he can see how nice you are to him. you always make sure to make him comfortable with you. you give him space without even him asking. he notices how you serve him his favorite meals every time. you did not force him to remember anything. maybe there’s a reason why you’re with him.
“yes.”
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“how are you?”
“i can still do it.” you replied as you fall on your bed.
jisoo is on the other line. she just finished her shift while you just finished moving your stuff from your former bedroom to the guest room.
“how’s taehyung?”
you rolled on your side, “still quiet. although he asks when he needs something or thanks me when i helped him, he still didn’t asked about us. maybe he’s not interested.”
you heard your friend sighed, “maybe he’s shy.”
“i don’t know. i’ll just wait. it’s fine.” you told her. “let’s talk about your wedding! do you have the date already?”
“oh, yup. we’re thinking of the last week of next month. by the way, did your clothes came?”
“oh, i ha—”
you paused when you heard a knock from your front door. you stood up from your bed and walked to the door. you’re not expecting anyone. so, you thought maybe it’s the package. but as soon as you opened the door, you decided to end the call with jisoo.
“tae? what are you doing here?” you asked him, confused. “i gave you the key, didn’t i?”
taehyung scratched the back of his neck timidly, “yeah. i... i just don’t want to barge in like an intruder.”
five years ago, he lived with jimin in an apartment. so, even though he have his own key to this house, he still thinks that it’s not his. it’s someone’s home. you and taehyung only bought this house months ago after saving for it.
“well, you’re not an intruder when you have your key.” you quipped. “come in.”
you opened the door wider to let him in. and for the first time since you went home from the hospital, you got to be closer to him. a simple brush of his arm to yours is enough to make you miss him more. even though it was just a split second, it was able to make you miss hugging and cuddling with him again.
“did you cook something for dinner?” taehyung asked as you locked the door.
you turned around and saw him in the living room, sitting on the couch while holding the remote.
“i thought you’re spending the night in jimin’s. so i did not prepare anything.” you replied truthfully.
taehyung eyed you, “how about you? what will you eat for dinner?”
your heart swells. it’s a simple and casual concern. but, it came from taehyung. it reminds you of the last time you talk to him through a phone call. he always points out to prioritize your health. you looked away from him as you felt your cheeks warming.
“maybe i’ll just order something? like, chinese food?” you answered.
“great. make whatever you’ll order two. let’s eat together.” he said, looking back on the television.
“how about jimin?”
“he forgot he got a date for tonight. so he drops me here before going to his date.”
you giggled with thought of jimin forgetting his date again. while you make a call to order food, taehyung watched whatever’s playing in front of him. the truth is, jimin don’t have a date tonight. taehyung asked his best friend to drive him, since he can’t drive for now, after closing the shop. after that talk with jimin, he went on the day, thinking if he should spend more time with you. maybe if he will know more about you, he’ll understand everything. he knows he have issues. so, he wonders how you stayed together, even bought a house.
“oh, you’re watching that.” you sat on the other single sofa, meters away from taehyung.
taehyung noticed what’s playing, it’s a marvel movie. he knows because of the characters. but the movie seems unfamiliar. some of the characters he knows looks a bit different.
“what movie is this?” he asked with pure confusion.
“avengers: infinity war. we watched it in the cinemas together.” you shared.
“i don’t remember.” he looks at you apologetically. but you just gave him a smile. “the last one i remember is civil war.”
“it’s fine. if you want to, we can binge watch those marvel movies. from doctor strange to black widow. then, shang-chi.” you offered.
hearing this, taehyung had a surprised expression. it seems like he missed a lot for five years. he felt like a steve rogers but with an amnesia. on the other hand, you find him adorable with his reaction. you two already watched every movie and mini-series in marvel except the recent ones because of the accident. but you don’t mind watching it all again. you love it. of course, you love him too.
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“maybe we should watch three to four movies each day to catch up.” taehyung suggested as he munched on his food.
you just nodded as you placed the last piece of egg roll on his rice. you know he likes it too much that he ends up eating almost all of it. taehyung thanked you before continuing. you two are watching doctor strange.
“what do you think?” he waited for your answer.
“whatever you want, tae. i still have two weeks before getting back to work. i love marvel.” you told him, making him smile.
it’s the first time he have someone with him to watch these movies. jimin found it boring while namjoon is more of a dc fan. lily have other interests. so, taehyung feels great to have you with him.
you cleaned up after the post-credit scene. taehyung insisted on helping you even though you don’t want him moving around. you two ended up sitting on the couch.
“how’s your head? are you getting head aches?” you checked on him.
taehyung shook his head, “it’s good. just felt a little dizzy while in the bakeshop.”
you nodded silently. that’s when silence took over for a few minutes before taehyung cleared his throat.
“y/n, i think we should hang around more often.” he told you and he swore he saw your eyes shine brighter.
“really? you want that?” you asked him.
“yeah. like, we’re together for four years. i want to know why.”
he waited for you to say something but when he looks at you, you just gave him a smile.
a lot sweeter this time.
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a/n: this one is a sudden idea. sorry. i know i haven’t posted anything for months but i can’t let this one out of my head. it was supposed to be a one shot but it’s too long to my liking. i had to cut it off. second part is on the way. your thoughts would mean a lot. thank you. take care, loves <3
ps. i can make a taglist if you want to. 
196 notes · View notes
delacyrose224 · a day ago
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Starlight
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-Pairing: Yoongi x reader
-Words: 462
-Warnings/rating: SFW, established relationship au, reader is doubtful about their future but Yoongi is the sweetest, honestly this is just a ball of fluff
-Author's Note: Here it is, a less than 500 word drabble (which if you know me, is daunting) just for @alpacaparkaseok's birthday! A combo of Yoongi and Taylor Swift inspiration with stargazing, what's not to love? Hope you enjoy, friend!!
----------------------------
“And that one there, that’s Orion’s Belt.”
The man beside you points out to the wide expanse of stars in front of you, while you squint to try and make out what he’s looking at.
“There?” You tilt your head, pointing at the grouping of stars in his sight line.
A warm hand envelops yours, guiding your hand slightly over to the right.
“...there.” As you look beside you, you’re met with a small smile. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face in response.
“What’re you smiling about, hm?” He nudges you gently with his shoulder.
You’re smiling because you can’t help it. Your boyfriend, who everyone thinks is so serious all the time, is a giant softie-but only for you. It had been his idea to go up to the highest point in the local park and go stargazing.
You sigh contentedly, leaning into his chest instead of answering his question.
“You’re so cold! Hang on a minute…” He turns and rifles through the messenger bag he’s brought with him, suddenly producing a thermos of hot chocolate and two cups. He carefully pours one for each of you and as he hands you a cup, you lean back, burrowing into his added warmth.
“Yoongi?”
“Hmm?” He absentmindedly trails his hand up and down your arm, tracing random patterns.
“Do you ever feel like...your dreams are impossible to reach?” you whisper, almost too softly for him to even hear you.
“What do you mean, lovely?” He leans his head over your shoulder, folding himself into the crook of your neck.
“I mean...sometimes, I just feel like everything I want to accomplish is out of reach. Will I ever get my dream job, move out of this town? Travel the world? It feels impossible. What’s even the point of wanting all that if it isn’t even going to come true, you know?”
Yoongi wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him.
“It’s not out of reach, it just may be harder to pull down from the sky. I know you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to-you want to travel? You will. Your dream job? I have no doubt that you’ll put in more than enough work to get it. Dreams can change along the way too, don’t forget…but I believe in you and your dreams.”
You turn in his arms to face him. “How can you be so sure, though?”
“Because,” he smiles, “I thought my own dream was impossible, but turns out I just had to put in a lot of work for it.”
“Wait…what was your impossible dream?” you respond quizzically.
He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead then brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You.”
——————————————
Check out my other work here!
Taglist: @alpacaparkaseok @hyungieyoongi @derinxfam
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oureuphoria · 2 months ago
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Not Like You || JJK Oneshot
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⟿ Synopsis: God had favourites. Jungkook figured that out early in his childhood, when every waking moment was spent trying to impress his parents at the expense of you. He ran away at 19 to escape the immeasurable pressure to succeed but he couldn't escape you. Six years and a daughter later, Jungkook met his childhood enemy again, except this time he didn't want to run.
⟿ Genre: fluff & angst & slow-burn so slow you question if there is even a burn.
⟿ Pairing: dilf!jungkook x boxer!jungkook x childhood enemy!reader
⟿ Word count: 28K whoops, I went a little overboard
⟿ Warnings: Mentions of depression and brief mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of death (very brief, very minor character) some profanity.
⟿ Note: Oh boy okay so I merged boxer JK with father JK with enemies 2 lovers with friends 2 lovers so it's just a MESS okay bare with me. I'm sorry she's so chonky, also the ending was spontaneous so um sorry <3.
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God had favourites. Jungkook figured that out early in his childhood, when every waking moment was spent trying to impress his parents at the expense of your effortless flaunting. Your parents had known each other from high school, they built their businesses together from the ground up and while the story is outdated and tacky, there was no other way to explain it. Their friendship was admirable, truly one of the strongest you’d ever witnessed. You yearned for a friendship like theirs, everyone did, but you weren’t quite as lucky.
Jungkook, who was older than you by four years, was supposed to be your unconditional best friend. The person you could turn to at any given moment because you both practically grew up together. Sure it was a little too convenient to be true but you hadn’t expected him to hate you. In fact, Jungkook had grown a distaste for everything Y/N. At first, his hatred was irrational and petty. He felt like you were everyone’s new object of attention, people doted on you and your cute pig tails before they ever spared him a glance. And of course, as a 9 year old everything seemed to be dramatised ten-fold but soon enough, you had given him plenty of hate fuel.
Jungkook was a fan of music and sport. Those were pretty much the only subjects he paid attention to at school. He wasn’t the brightest kid but he had passion and humour. You, were his polar opposite. You had no musical talent, not a single athletic bone in your body but academics came easy to you, so did impressing adults. You even skipped two grades and Jungkook couldn’t even escape you. You were the textbook example of everything his parents wanted him to be and he hated you for it.
Jungkook’s parents were loving, kind and well-rounded people. They had a lot of compassion and empathy, they grew up in the lower-middle class and knew how intricate money was and how detrimental it was not to waste it. They also knew that wasted potential, was the worst disease that plagued society. They wanted Jungkook to reach his full potential even if, in their eyes, that meant academic success.
Tutoring wasn’t a necessarily bad thing, initially, Jungkook welcomed the extra help. However, hiring top class tutors for an 11 year old was not a smart decision. Jungkook wasn’t thick-skinned, he didn’t take criticism well, especially not when it was delivered harshly. He cried a lot, struggled even more with the newly established pressure to do well. He broke under the weight of unrealistic expectations just like any delicate glass would and when he put himself back together piece by piece, he was never quite the same.
Forced to grow thick skin, Jungkook had lost his compassion, his soft smile and his innocent eyes. Tainted by the burden of disappointment, Jungkook knew he couldn’t fail to meet expectations if there simply weren’t any. And just like that, a child no different to the countless others who enjoyed class and the safe haven it used to be, had become a nightmare.
Middle school wasn’t the worst. He created trouble but it was petty, small and usually harmless. This was also the time period where you grew to hate him too. Where his disdain towards you had become mutual. You tried to keep the bickering to a minimum. Mainly because you liked to avoid trouble but also because you didn’t want to disappoint your parents. Since, after all Jungkook had done, you were never allowed to reciprocate, you always had to be the bigger person.
It was ironic really, Jungkook was two grades above you and still managed to act half your age. Nonetheless, you tried to treat your negative emotions towards him like papers you could file away and come back to when it really mattered. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work, no one could compartmentalise their feelings and surely not a 12-year-old but you tried anyway because anything was better than fighting with Jungkook.
High school was when it got personal. It wasn’t just petty arguments over coloured markers or throwing paint at each other. Suddenly, the hatred had deepened, seeped into your blood like poison. It consumed you, enough so to make you forget that you had no reason to hate each other in the first place. The fighting became planned and vindictive until eventually, tearing each other down had gone too far. You picked at each other’s insecurities because it was easy to destroy someone you knew well. In a way, behind the toxicity of your indescribable relationship, you had been the only constant in each others lives. You found comfort in that.
One day in your sophomore year, it went too far. You couldn’t recall the exact details if you tried but it had something to do with your parents divorce. Nevertheless, words were said, insults exchanged like daggers dragged through skin and if you could take it all back you would, because the very next day, Jungkook didn’t show up to school. He didn’t show up the following day, or the day after that until you had been informed that he’d run away.
You wondered where the missing person posters were, or his extravagant search party. You wondered why nobody seemed to care.
With a reputation that had been carefully constructed for years before Jungkook’s existence, it seemed unworthy to damage it all for him and as shallow as that sounded, the Jeons had been too hurt by his decision to see the error in their actions. And thus, no report was filed and Jungkook had disappeared from your life into thin air; his name had become forbidden in your house. Like a blemish wiped away from history, Jungkook ceased to exist and you couldn’t handle it, not when you saw him everywhere. They told his school he’d transferred, which was a blatant lie, Jungkook never finished high school but you were forced to play along.
Jungkook stayed with an older friend in Seoul where he refused to reply to any of your messages. With the burden of the heavy guilt on your shoulders, you trudged through junior year on your own, fearing that he was gone forever. Everyday for 2 years, you messaged him. It was initially just ‘please come home’ every morning but eventually, under the impression that he wasn’t receiving the messages, you vented. Sometimes it was about how depleted his house had become, how Jungkook’s older brother was spiralling into a pit of depression or how your classes didn’t feel the same. Sometimes it was about how much you hated him for leaving you to deal with two broken families.
Jungkook was nowhere for a while. No longer holding a monopoly over your mind although never completely gone. College was easier, the memory of him wasn’t there at every turn. You didn’t think much of trying to find him, not when he so clearly didn’t want to be found. You told yourself that he was alive, well and much happier than he ever was with his family. You begged that it was true every second of every day.
It wasn’t until your fourth year of college that you had confirmed your theory. You almost missed it, in a rush to make it to your morning lecture in time but your eyes unconsciously did a double take. And indeed, there he was, not-so-small Jungkook on a billboard with the title, ‘Season’s hottest contender’. A professional boxer. You were frozen in your place with your jaw slack for far too long to be normal but nobody really cared. Everyone far too busy with their own burdens.
This, you were not expecting.
Needless to say, you had gotten to your morning lecture around 15-minutes late. Why? Well, because after viewing that fleeting billboard, you spent 10 minutes googling your long-lost arch nemesis and the other 5 running to class after realising you were late. Your ethics professor didn’t mind, which you did not find the least bit ironic in the moment, and thankfully you didn’t draw too much attention. However, it probably would’ve been best if you didn’t attend at all because you had not retained a single word uttered during that 115 minute lecture.
When you had gotten back to your apartment, you began to spiral. It had been 6 years since you last saw Jungkook, 6 years since you last heard of him and your blood boiled at the fact that he was thriving. Of course you were happy for him but he had put your family and his through misery for evidently no reason. A simple text message would have sufficed.
In a spur of the moment decision, you haphazardly spent $120 on two tickets to his match that weekend, one that would take place around 40 minutes from your apartment. You just hoped that your roommate would agree to go with you because there was no other way for you to get there without spending a fortune of course.
“Please!! I promise all you have to do is come.” You pleaded for the umpteenth time that night. “Y/N, neither of us have ever given a shit about boxing, why would we go now?” You were rather close with your roommate, in fact you’d consider him your closest friend, however, you never really discussed your childhood with anyone, much less the petty feud that drove Jungkook out of his home. So, you told a small white lie to cover up the real reason behind your random spike of interest in the violent sport. “I told you, I won the tickets online and I don’t want to waste them.” “You can always sell them?” Seokjin had a valid point, there was no denying that but you weren’t one to back down easily. Jin knew that all too well. “Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ll treat you to dinner after?” “Panda Express?” You rolled your eyes at his evidently expensive taste, he was going to milk it for what it was worth. Despite being the child of a millionaire, you were trying to be financially independent and Jin was not making that easy. “I was thinking McDonalds but that works too I guess…” And with a final handshake you had sealed the deal. Jin would accompany you on your journey.
There were many details you hadn’t foreseen. Like, for example, the fact that opting for the cheapest tickets put you at a substantial distance from the ring and that Jungkook was practically untouchable. You never knew when boxing had gotten so popular but Jungkook had a large and diverse fanbase which ultimately meant tough security and no way to speak to him, not unless he noticed you first. You were sure that even with 20/20 vision, there was no way Jungkook could see you from that distance, not to mention the fact that he had to dodge and throw punches at his opponent who you had done absolutely no research on.
“Y/N, this sucks, lets bail and go to panda express.” You glared at your roommate beside you. It had been less than 10 minutes and he was already complaining. “Wait, they’re selling hot dogs I take back what I said. Go buy two.” “No! Stadium food is expensive and besides, I’m not even hungry.” “Who said they were for you? You said you’d buy me food, go, get me two hot dogs.” “Alright Jin, it’s the hot dogs or panda express.” “Nope, if you want me to sit through watching two sweaty men battle it out like medieval gladiators for an hour than you owe me two, two meals.” You rolled your eyes, shoving the money in his hand nonetheless.
The match wasn’t starting for another 15 minutes and you decided you’d take a shot in the dark. Jungkook had probably changed his number, but on the off chance he didn’t, you sent a message anyway. One that was ambiguous enough not to alarm anyone who was not in fact Jungkook but still contained enough information to ensure him that you were not a psycho stalker fan.
Hey, it’s me Y/N. I’m at your match tonight and I was wondering if we could talk?
You deleted your old messages to him, mostly because it hurt to recount what it was like back then but also partly because you wanted to move on. However, what you’d never forget was the fact that in your 2 years of messaging him, the messages had never, ever been read. So, when the read receipt had shown up onto the screen, you could feel your heart beat in your chest, the sensation becoming overpowering to the point where it left you nauseous. However, it didn’t take long for your heart to settle once again.
Sorry, wrong number.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting but you still felt the disappointment all the same. “So, I got a snow cone too but I’m not a complete monster so I got watermelon because I know it’s your favourite.” “Blueberry. Blueberry is my favourite, Jin.” You deadpanned in a monotonous tone, you were lying, watermelon was your favourite but Jin deserved the discomfort so you maintained the facade anyway. “Wow, who would’ve thought?”
Eventually, the 15-minutes had breezed through and Jin had obliterated the two hot dogs which thankfully gave you time to consume about 90% of the snow cone. “Here, you can have the rest.” Jin looked at you skeptical before realising you had already almost finished the snow cone. “You left me the flavourless, bottom part! I don’t want it.” “Well, that’s what you get for exploiting my kindness. Besides, I’m getting cold you take the rest.” You stretched out your hand towards him, holding the ice cone in place. “I don’t want it." “Just take it.” You taunted further, however, in an attempt to further dramatise his theatrics, Jin had wailed his arms around while complaining, accidentally hitting the snow cone out of your hands and onto your white top.
He winced silently, looking at you, infinitely colder with a large pink stain on your shirt. “I have no regrets.” He tried to hide his giggle but you took off your jacket, throwing at him while standing up to go to the bathroom. “You’re insufferable.” you muttered angrily but you failed at keeping a straight face, after all the situation was rather comical. However, on your way to the bathroom, you passed by the ring and while you were too invested in surveying the severity of the stain, Jungkook’s eyes had landed right on you.
Jungkook often looked back towards the exit because that was where his coach would stand, however, what was supposed to be a quick glance at his surroundings had completely thrown him off his game. Your face was one he could never forget, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Jungkook! Focus!” The command from his coach and a fist to his face had regained Jungkook’s consciousness and he hit back five times harder. In fact, seeing you had brewed a pot of hatred deep inside him, one that he had hoped to keep idle till the day he died. On your way back from the bathroom, your eyes locked with Jungkook’s and from the fury in his eyes and the ferocity of his expression, you knew he was well aware that you were there and evidently still wanted nothing to do with you.
“You look like you had a nose bleed.” You rolled your eyes at Jin who had almost forgotten about your entire existence in the 3 minutes you were gone. “You didn’t tell me the boxer was so fine. Now I know why you wanted to go.” Jin smirked at his comment, raising his eyebrows at you wickedly. However, instead of your comically irritated face, all Jin saw was uneasiness. “Hey are you okay? I’m sorry about the snow cone I didn’t mean to-” You snorted at his antics, your friendship with Jin was rarely sentimental which was why his heartfelt apology had felt so out of place. “I don’t care about the cone, moron and yes, I agree, he is very fine.” There was not a hint of insincerity in your statement but it did come out awkward, mainly because it was true but a part of you knew very well that you’d have to explain to Jin eventually. Especially if you were really planning on getting Jungkook to forgive you.
You spent the rest of the match seated watching quietly. You had to be honest, it left you uneasy. Every punch Jungkook took made you jump a little, every time he threw a punch you held your breath. To say that the entire experience was just pure discomfort would’ve been a severe understatement. You never wanted to attend one of these ever again.
“That wasn’t half bad, Y/N. Dare I say fun, even?” You elbowed him jokingly on your way out of the stadium. “Sure it was fun for you!! I am sticky and I smell like a watermelon starburst.” “You know what, that doesn’t sound half bad either.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Where did you even park the car Jin?” Jin dropped you off at the entrance promising to meet you once he found a place to park his precious car. “It’s a little far…” “Seriously? There are loads of perfectly good parking spots nearby!” “But, Y/N, Popo (yes, Jin named his car, its a Porsche) doesn’t appreciate being among commoners so I parked him at a restaurant nearby, just give me 5 minutes and I’ll bring him here, okay?” You nodded, still sporting a frown provoked by your best friend’s immature antics.
You leaned your shoulder against a wall on the side of the main building which had seemed like a good idea at the time. You were rather tired, even though you didn’t do much. Unfortunately, you hadn’t thought about why turning your back towards the dark abyss might have been problematic. To be frank, you never did think of potential risks in situations, so, when an arm touched your shoulder you were quick to assume the worst and elbow the person behind you.
“Ow! What the fuck, Y/N?” You winced at the familiar voice, of course this would be your first interaction with Jungkook in 6 years. “Oh shit. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” You tried to defend yourself, tone still laced with guilt. There was a heavy pause that followed, one that allowed the tension to grow thicker. “What do you want?” A silence fell after his question to which you responded with a snicker. “What do I want? You approached me, Jeon.” It was a habit, calling him by his last name, one that seemed to only remind him of exactly why he hated you. “I know you’re only here for me so I’ll ask again, what do you want?” “That’s not very fair. What if I was actually a fan of boxing?” “Name one fighter from the season.” It was quiet, you used the awkward pause to properly focus on his face. He’d really grown into his features, arch nemesis or not, he still made you nervous. “Y-” “Don’t say me.” You sighed, defeated. “I said ‘what if’…” You trailed off into yet another awkward silence.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” you mumbled quietly, almost to the point where it was incoherent. It was true, though and you didn’t have any ill intentions. Jungkook didn’t buy it and you didn’t blame him. “Did you tell anyone?” “No, not yet at least. Jungkook your mother she-” “Not a word of this to anyone. It’s none of your business.” Your jaw dropped in astonishment, Jungkook was never nice to you but he had definitely changed. He was cold and harsh, things that you’d never associate with the sweet, Bambi-eyed boy from your childhood. “It’s not like you’re keeping a low profile. You’re on billboards, they’re going to find out.” “Yeah, well it won’t be from you.”
“Hey, Y/N!” You turned your neck around quickly at the sound of Jin’s voice, he was seated in his car waiting for you to join him. “I have to go but I’m telling your parents, they deserve to know that you’re alive.” He had his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek and looked at you with a burning ferocity. He cocked his head as if to tell you to go, and that you did. You began to walk away, his look of disappointment perpetually burned into your brain. The interaction left goosebumps on your skin and a look of discomfort that didn’t go unnoticed by Jin. “Who was that?” You mentally shook off all thoughts of Jungkook before shooting Jin a genuine smile. “Just some guy asking for directions, I am almost sure I led him the wrong way.”
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The next time you saw Jungkook was unplanned, at least on your part. You were at work which was a more glamorous way of saying the campus library. It wasn’t fun but you needed the money and it paid well for a relatively low demand on labour. “Hey sexy.” You glared at the source of the irritating voice, Jensen, a guy from your ethics class who had an unruly goal to sleep with every girl in your cohort. “Jensen, lovely to see you.” You feigned a smile, sarcasm obvious in your tone but you didn’t care. He knew well enough that you weren’t his biggest fan.
You didn’t hate Jensen because of his promiscuous sex life, that was his business and you knew better than to make judgements on people based on something that superficial. No, you hated Jensen because of a group project during your first year where he had, unsurprisingly, done absolutely nothing. He went even further to harass your fellow group mate into doing his part for him.
A lot of people hated Jensen but he was disgustingly rich and therefore powerful. You were lucky you could afford to hate him, a lot of people weren’t allowed that luxury. So, you made it your life goal to ensure that Jensen would never, ever, get his way around you.
“I need a book.” “Thought so, you are at a library after all.” He rolled his eyes at your backhanded insults but didn’t move from his position on the bench. Leaning far too close for your comfort. “Picture books are over there.” You gestured when he hadn’t moved from the bench. “Funny, Y/N.” You gave him a sincere smile in response, his discomfort brought genuine joy to your heart. “Great Expectations, Dickens.” You cocked an eyebrow at him and his audacity. Your job was to scan library cards and shelve books, not help a grown ass man locate a book in a library. “It’s the book I need. Go get it.” You sighed in an attempt to calm the volcano of rage that was dangerously close to erupting. “It’s in the classics section, look for the letter D, you must be familiar with it considering your grades.” And with a swift middle finger to your face, Jensen had made his way to the classics section and away from you.
“He’s just so annoying! Who doesn’t know how to locate a book in a library? It’s not even that big.” Jin let out a hum in response which was a telltale sign that he was not listening whatsoever. You hit the back of his head lightly to which he gave you an offended look. “He’s pretty good looking you know.” You gave Jin a look of sheer disgust. There wasn’t much that could make you find someone truly disgusting but Jensen ticked all the boxes which therefore meant that no matter how conventionally attractive he may be, he was entirely hideous to you, inside and out.
“Anyways, while you were not so graciously ranting about your boring life, I got us both invited to the after party.” Jin’s proposal was met with a look of confusion. “What after party?” Your tone, now accusatory and skeptical had Jin feeling nervous. “Well, while you were trying to ring snow cone flavouring out of your shirt, I met this lovely guy named Namjoon who just so happens to be best friends with the boxer and he invited us both to the after party to celebrate Jungkook’s win.” You felt your heart jump to your throat. Suddenly feeling extremely nauseous. You excused yourself to the bathroom where you washed your face in a weak attempt to regain composure. Just the mention of his name was throwing you off. He had disappeared from your life for almost a third of it and it was difficult to accept that he was back.
Jin was perplexed, ever since the day you had asked him to attend the match with you, he would often catch you looking distracted at random times. You always played it off but he knew something was up, he just didn’t feel like forcing it out of you. “Sorry, I think there was something weird in that burrito.” You shivered at the thought of the food which had been tasty then but a genuine regret later. “It’s fine, anyways, I already RSVPd and these events are super hard to get into so we’re going, okay?” You nodded absentmindedly, as mentioned before, Jin was stubborn and there was no way to dig yourself out of this one unless you were willing to tell him the truth.
When in the comfort of your room, you spent an abnormal amount of time with your finger hovering above her contact awkwardly.
‘Mrs Jeon :D’
You couldn’t bring yourself to ring it and despite your better judgement, you decided not to. Something about Jungkook’s dejected expression told you that he needed his space and you owed him at least that much. However, in the solitude of your room, you were finally able to truly reflect on what had happened and what you were planning to do about it. You never admitted it out loud but you relied on Jungkook and despite the anger he’d put you through daily and his senseless pranks, you grew a soft spot for him, you grew fond of someone who hated you through and through under the premise that it was just a guise.
You’d deny it the moment it comes up but at one point, in fact during your sophomore year, before Jungkook ran away, you harboured stupid, pre-teen feelings for him. Sure they were menial and childish but he was your first real crush, dare you say your first love even. But this feeling which you had apprehensively allowed into your life had left you broken. It hurt that much more when he left. The feelings were forced to subside in his absence, although, in the comfort of your bed, it became harder to confirm whether they had ever subsided at all or just remained dormant in the corner of your heart, waiting for the chance to reignite again.
The next day Jin barged into your room at noon. “Get up loser, we’re going shopping.” You sat up from your starfish position on the bed to look at Jin as he leaned against your doorframe dramatically. “Why? We went shopping last week.” You groaned before flopping backwards onto your comfortable bed again. Jin wasn’t having it and therefore he yanked you out of bed and onto the floor. “I need a new outfit for the party and you do too. If I have to see you wear one of your outdated dresses or that stupid mini-skirt-” “That skirt has been through a lot with me, Jin! It holds sentimental value, not that you’d know anything about that, you sociopath.” You got up nonetheless and Jin knew he’d won the battle. You opened your closet, feeling a little insecure about your entire wardrobe thanks to Jin and decided you deserved some new clothes. Which was an entirely personal revelation, not in any way related to your brutally honest roommate.
You weren’t sure why Jin was so on edge about this party. You knew well enough that Jin liked to shop often but he had been nervously raking through his closet and trying different hair styles the entire week. “So, you like this Namjoon guy don’t you?” you teased with a quirk of your eyebrows. Jin scoffed in response letting out mumbles of astonishment. “You think I’m that easy?” “I think you’re a strong believer of love at first sight.” He shook his head instantly, opting not to say anything else. Ironically, the silence confirmed your suspicions; Jin was never speechless.
“Pinstripes or plain?” Jin was holding two ties up to his neck, alternating between the two. “I don’t think anyone wears ties to a house party, Jin.” He mocked you silently but put down the ties anyway. “How about this shirt?” You held up a white silk blouse that had a rather deep v-neck. “I’ll try it on.” You clapped giddily before continuing to peruse the racks of clothing. “So, what are you thinking of wearing?” You shrugged, a sound response which encapsulated the turmoil you were feeling inside, you had absolutely no idea what to wear. “Nothing? You always have opinions.” That was true, you’ve always liked clothing. Ever since you were a kid you always liked to experiment (which led to some rather horrendous family pictures) and you liked to think you grew into your hobby quite well. “Nope, I’ve got nothing.”
“What about this dress?” You glanced at the floral cocktail dress Jin was holding up, it was pretty but your severe allergy to flowers gave you shivers when you looked at it. “Maybe not…” After about 3 hours of inconspicuous shopping (trying to be financially responsible and all), you decided to head home. You ended up buying a rather simple black body con dress that you thought was appropriate, after all the last thing you needed was to attract attention. Jin went with the elegant silk blouse you picked out (you’re always right) and a pair of slacks. He looked great and if you were whoever the hell it was he was trying to impress, you’d be smitten.
On the night of the party, Jin screamed, “Y/N, you ready?” You scoffed at his shrill voice from your shared living room, where you had been (im)patiently waiting for him for the past 25 minutes. “I have been ready for the better part of an hour. Hurry up!” Jin rolled his eyes at your outburst because frankly, he didn’t care, he had a million other things to worry about like how he was going to keep up a conversation with Namjoon while knowing absolutely nothing about boxing. “Where’s the party anyway?” “Jungkook’s house, it’s huge by the way, I checked some places out in that neighbourhood last year.” You nodded absentmindedly, too occupied trying to calculate just how much being a boxer could possibly make you to pay attention to the fact that Jin was planning on moving out.
“That was the wrong turn, idiot! I said take the second left that was the third, no wonder you failed math.” Jin waved off your complaints, peaking at your phone which told him to make a U-turn. “I’m driving next time.” You were still on your learners but felt as though you could surely navigate better. “So you can drive 40 in a 60 zone and make us even later? No thanks.” You let out a huff of astonishment, maybe you were a little too careful sometimes but at least your driving record was clean. Jin couldn’t say the same. “Okay, where the hell do I park Popo? It’s packed!” You shrugged, unconcerned with Jin and his car. “I don’t know, there’s space down the street.” “Down the street?! Behind the Toyota are you insane?” “Whatever, I’m leaving.” You left the car with a shrug to which Jin groaned in annoyance.
“Name and ID.” Jungkook hired bouncers for his house party, bouncers, this man had to be insane. “Y/N L/N,” you replied with a smile that was not returned in any way whatsoever but you could guess that the man was tired so you tried not to take it to heart. You realised, when you had entered the extravagant house that you probably should’ve waited for Jin. You didn’t know a single person there and half of them looked like they bench pressed semi-trucks for a living. You weren’t sure how long you were standing near the entrance with a panicked gaze but it must’ve been a while because Jin had entered looking pissed. “Y/N, you will not believe how far I had to walk I- oh, there’s Namjoon, bye loser!”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish for a bit, hand outstretched to in a failed attempt to stop him from abandoning you. “Asshat,” you cursed under your breath.
You spent the rest of the night alone, you grabbed a cup full of orange juice and a drop of alcohol because you wanted to pretend you could handle your alcohol by drinking a ‘mimosa’. You were bored out of your mind but you didn’t want to disturb Jin, by the looks of it, he had been hitting things off with that Namjoon guy he was interested in. You were genuinely happy for him.
Sipping 5 cups of orange juice for the better part of your night was not a good idea. You needed to pee.
Jungkook had made it very clear (not personally, you hadn’t seen him all night) that the second floor of his house was off limits. There were security standing at the entrance of the staircase. However, you never made it near the staircase until you felt an impending need to relieve your bladder which was unfortunately met with 4 occupied bathrooms. When you had reached the base of the stairs leading to the second floor, the security, who had been there for every second previous to your arrival, were busy helping an extremely drunk person to a seat and you had gone up in search of a bathroom.
All the doors were shut but that didn’t discourage you. You knocked and peered inside in desperation, careful because you knew what closed doors at a party meant. Eventually, after going past his study, (why did he even need a study?) his home gym and a bedroom, you found a children’s room. You were a major advocate for respect and privacy when in other people’s homes, however, this was Jungkook. Your extreme curiosity got the better of you. The room was empty, thankfully, that party was no environment for a child, however, it was the only room that was full of life. There were toys overflowing from a chest, a pink blanket on a messy bed (the one with the princess net at the top that every child wanted) and a picture framed on the wall with Jungkook and a little girl.
Your heart plummeted to your feet faster than the speed of light and suddenly, the need to evacuate your bladder was gone. The only urge you could register was the one to scream. Jungkook had a child. A child. Was he married? What else was he hiding? “What the fuck are you doing? second-floor’s off limits get- Y/N?” You turned around to see the man of the hour, both shocked and livid at his discovery. “You have a daughter?” Jungkook didn’t say anything in response, he grabbed your arm tightly and dragged you out of the room. His vice-like grip hurt, but you didn’t hold it against him. This was his kid, you’d be mad too.
“You need to stay the fuck away from me. Understood?” He seethed through gritted teeth but you could feel an anger of your own begin to simmer. “Jungkook, why are you pushing us away? Why are you pushing me away? I never did anything to you!” He scoffed, now letting go of your arm which was visibly red, he’d feel guilty about it later. “I don’t owe you shit, let alone an explanation so-” “You don’t know what it was like when you were gone. The least you could do is explain.” You cut him off and he was surprised at your confidence, you were definitely older.
“You really are clueless, huh?” The tension in the hallway had risen to an all time high but you weren’t budging. You crossed your hands across your chest and leaned against the wall to prove that you weren’t going anywhere. He was really about to unpack 9 years worth of emotional trauma. “Did you ever look at the family pictures, Y/N?” You nodded slowly, unsure what he was insinuating. “You were in the middle of all of them, hell even my family albums were full of you.” You didn’t really know what to say, Jungkook might have been right but you were a child, how could you have known better? “You can’t hold that against me I was like 10!”
“In middle school my parents never attended my football games but they were always at your orchestra recitals.” “I-” You tried to apologise but Jungkook wasn’t done. “In high school, I joined the dance team and won a state title, but that didn’t matter because you won a chess tournament. My entire childhood was spent trying to escape your shadow. Forgive me if I don’t want that kind of life for my kid.” You didn’t reply, there were tears in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. Jungkook always had a sharp tongue, the sarcasm dripped from his every word.
While the shock of the fact that Jungkook was a father began settling in, he took the opportunity to walk away but you were quick to stop him. Same grip on his arm, but much softer. “I’m sorry, Jungkook, I really am. It was never my intention to make you feel that way.” Jungkook heard the break in your voice and the quiet sniffles, he assumed you were crying but turning around could have risked the last of his self-control. “I’m trying to make this right, I promise.” Jungkook slipped out of your grasp and continued on his way, not sparing you a second glance.
The drive back home with Jin was silent.
To say you were shocked would have been a severe understatement and everyone around you noticed. Jin had picked up on your quietness around the apartment, Jensen had noticed your lack of snarky comebacks; even the lady who sells the most delicious cinnamon rolls across the street picked up on your absence. You weren’t necessarily doing a good job at hiding your inability to cope with the news and Jin had found your change in demeanour extremely concerning. He’d complained about it to Namjoon who, while completely aware about the situation, relayed the information onto an uncaring Jungkook. Namjoon felt bad lying to Jin, but it wasn’t his business.
You stayed true to your word and didn’t tell anyone about his, predicament, for lack of a better word. You did a lot of snooping but Jungkook had done an insanely great job of hiding his child from the media, you assumed that was for the best. The picture of her was engraved in your head, you could vividly recall her smile because it was so much like his. You hoped she was happy and that he was well, it wasn’t like he had much familial support.
After two weeks, when your mind was just starting to evict its unwanted resident, a phone call from an unsaved number had startled you. “Hello?” You questioned suspiciously, people rarely ever called you so your hesitance was justified. However, no matter how cautiously you approached the phone call, nothing could’ve prepared you for the question on the other side. “Are you serious about wanting to make things right?”
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“She’s not allergic to anything but she’s not a fan of spicy food. Bedtime’s 7pm, 8pm latest otherwise she won’t sleep all night. Her bath time is usually around 6pm but I’ll hopefully be home by then. Oh and one more thing, if I’m back really late, feel free to take one of the guest rooms. All clear?” You nodded dutifully, after all you were literally taking notes.
Jungkook had called you in a spur of the moment decision to ask you to babysit his daughter. It went against all of his better judgement but his second qualifying match had been pushed forward due to a change in the semi-finals dates and his usual babysitter couldn’t help on such short notice. His closest friend was his manager (Namjoon) and everyone else he trusted had lives of their own to tend to. You seemed like the best viable option (not that there were many options to begin with, Jungkook kept his circle close) so Jungkook called you with a proposal of peace in exchange of a favour. You agreed a little too quickly over the phone with an excited tone that almost made Jungkook smile. Almost.
“You got it.” You added a playful salute for comedic relief but Jungkook didn’t seem impressed. He gave his daughter a long kiss on the cheek and a hug, falling to his knees to properly hold the toddler. For the first time in a long time, that old Jungkook with the Bambi eyes overflowing with compassion had made an appearance, it was fleeting, but it was nice to know that he was still in there. “Bye baby, I’ll be home soon, okay?” She smiled and waved at him, giving him a thumbs up for good measure. You could already tell she was extremely mature for a 4-year-old. “Bye bye, daddy! Be safe.” Hesitantly, Jungkook left his house, still apprehensive about his choice to leave his daughter with you.
But, you had been together longer than you had been apart, and while Jungkook hated you, you technically never did anything wrong (partially the reason why he couldn’t stand you). He wanted to genuinely give you a chance. Jungkook tried to physically shake away his thoughts, after all, this was the least prepared he ever was for a match and it was detrimental to his career. He needed to focus. “Don’t stress, Jeon. You’ve got this in the bag.” Namjoon reassured him at the sight of his visible discomfort. He wanted the best for his daughter and if that meant doing the only thing he was good at, he would do it.
“So, your name’s Kyomi, right? My name is Y/N.” You outstretched a hand to the toddler, she eyed it skeptically which you couldn’t help but find unusually adorable. Eventually, she took your comparatively giant hand in hers, shaking it with all her might. “My name means pure and beautiful, what does yours mean?” You looked at her with a blank gaze, blinking absently. Your name didn’t have a meaning. Were 4 year olds supposed to talk this much? “Oh um, I don’t think my name has a meaning…” You trailed off, weirdly embarrassed over something you had never even thought about. “That’s okay, I can give you one later!” She beamed and you could have sworn that your heart skipped a beat.
“Can we have McDonald’s?” She questioned sheepishly, stumbling over the franchise name. While you definitely wanted to agree with her and invest in some nuggets, you really needed this to go well so you raided Jungkook’s fridge for the leftovers he told you to feed her instead. “Sorry ‘Mi, you’re having kimbap, father’s orders.” She shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the rejection. She seriously had more self-control than most of the adults you knew. You expected no less from Jungkook’s child. “Do you want some?” She questioned, holding out a piece to you. You shook your head declining her offer as politely as possible.
“Are you sure you want to watch Tangled, Spongebob movie’s right there-” She nodded confidently and you sighed in defeat. She was too adorable to disappoint, you could see why Jungkook had given her that name, it suited her well. “Why does the horse chase him?” “Because he stole the crown?” “Why did he steal the crown?” “Because he wanted money.” “So he won’t even wear it? What a waste.” You giggled, however the girl had been entirely serious so you stifled the laugh in hopes of not offending her.
Eventually, it had hit 7pm and while you had hoped Jungkook would’ve been home, he wasn’t. You helped her change into pyjamas and brush her teeth deciding that Jungkook could give her a bath the next day. “Kind and silly,” she whispered as she began drifting to sleep in her bed, you next to her. “Sorry?” you replied unsure what those words were supposed to mean. “That’s what your name means.” You couldn’t contain your smile and while you wanted her to humour your ego longer, she needed sleep and once she was finally deep in slumber, you left her room. You decided to wait downstairs for Jungkook, he had to be home soon and you desperately wanted to go home. You didn’t think you could handle an awkward morning with him.
When Jungkook had finally returned, it had been almost 11pm and he hadn’t expected to see you passed out on the couch, Peppa pig playing on the TV. He laughed at the scene quietly, so as not to wake you but his efforts were futile. You always were a light sleeper. “Oh, you’re home!” You said excitedly, well, as excitedly as someone could be while rubbing the sleepiness away from their eyes. “Yeah, sorry I was late. Interviews ran over schedule.” “I take it you won?” He nodded, making his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. “You want me to take you home?” The question was void of emotion which made it sound like a burden and it probably was, which was totally fine. You checked your phone for the time, it was far too late to catch the bus. “It’s fine, I’ll call a cab.” “Okay, goodnight.” And with that Jungkook made his ascent up the stairs.
You watched him for a bit before standing up, stretching for the laborious task of calling a cab. “Oh and Y/N?” “Hmm?” You turned back around to face him and he gave you a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.” You gave him a smile back that was far wider than his. “Anytime.” And you meant it, you genuinely enjoyed spending time with Kyomi.
Unfortunately, Jungkook had taken your offer at the worst possible time. About a week after your spontaneous babysitting, you had caught a cold. With the seasons changing and the weather getting colder, you knew it was probably inevitable but you still hated it all the same. While you did your best to complete your course work through the burden of sickness, eventually you realised it was a bottomless pit of assignments and you’d much rather fail than conform to the unrealistic goals of college professors. Jin offered to take care of you like any good friend would but you foolishly rejected thinking you could handle yourself. You couldn’t. Even making coffee was a struggle.
Your nap was rudely disrupted by a phone call. You awoke from your slumber sluggishly, patting around your bed for the phone. “Jensen, for the last time I can’t help you if you lost a library book just pay the damn fee!” You angrily exclaimed into the phone, almost positive that the man on the other side was the guy who had called at least 3 times in the last hour. “Uhhh, it’s Jungkook.” The line felt silent as you checked the contact to see a private number and not Jensen. “Well, that’s embarrassing.” He hummed in response.
“So, I need you to watch Kyomi again, please.” “Another match this fast?” “No, I’m meeting someone.” “Oh…” It was in that very moment that you had realised that your feelings for Jungkook never entirely dissipated because you felt the familiar sting of jealousy in your chest, the one you'd learned to grow accustomed to all those years ago. You weren’t even sure if he was meeting that kind of someone, but it affected you all the same. “I’m really sorry but I’m sick.” Jungkook could hear it in your voice before you admitted it and he would’ve been lying if he had said he wasn’t concerned. “You alright?” You nodded, before foolishly realising that he couldn’t see you, rookie mistake. “Yeah I’m fine, it’s just a cold.” “Is anyone home with you?” He asked and you scoffed, followed by a loud coughing fit which definitely didn’t assist you in proving your point. “Jungkook, I’m 20-years-old. I don’t need someone to take care of me.” “I’m coming over.” And before you could even protest, the line was dead and you were in a state of frenzy.
You did your best to clean whatever you could, thankfully, being meticulous about your living area was useful in the off chance of spontaneous visitors. You couldn’t say the same about Jin’s room but that was why doors existed. Just when you had finished folding the designated couch blanket, a knock had startled you. You’d assumed he’d gotten your address the same way he got your number; through Namjoon who often visited for his boyfriend, Jin. You opened the door, uncaring about your sickly appearance. This man had seen you at your worst (pre-puberty) and there was no coming back from that. “You look horrible.” You rolled your eyes at his bluntness but moved away to let him in nonetheless. “Well, hello to you too!” You sarcastically whispered under your breath, but he caught it anyway. Of course he had superhuman hearing. “What was that?” he quirked playfully, raising his eyebrow in response. You didn’t bother to repeat it.
“I brought soup and medicine, wasn’t sure if you had any.” To be completely frank, you weren’t even aware there were medicines for colds. Was the normal procedure not to just let them pass? “Thanks. Where’s Kyomi, is she okay?” Jungkook found your genuine concern for his daughter heart-warming, he had seen a lot of people pretend to care about her to get closer to him and it hurt to say the least. He was still learning how to filter out the insincerity but that was a step in the right direction. “She’s hanging out with Namjoon and your roommate, I crashed their date before coming here.” You nodded understandingly before reaching for the container of soup. Fuck modesty, you were starving.
“You know, Jungkook…this doesn’t taste that bad?” Jungkook gave you an all-knowing look, as if what you had told him was a fact written in stone. “Big improvement from when you set a chicken on fire in the microwave.” Jungkook’s jaw dropped in offence but he was quick to jump to his defence. “Alright, no one told me aluminium was flammable.” “It’s a metal, Jeon. What did you think it would do?” Jungkook flicked your forehead lightly over the counter and for a second, you felt as if you were 8 again, fighting over toy cars for the sake of it. “You should probably keep a distance, Namjoon might kill me if you get sick.” He nodded in agreement and you felt your heartbeat slow at that. If you could keep him at a distance, you’d be fine. That weird philosopher that muttered ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ would have to suck it because you needed to be right.
Falling for Jungkook all over again may be a fall you can’t recover from.
“Your fridge is filled with mineral water and flavoured milk. This can’t be sustainable.” You groaned, from your seat on the kitchen island, you just wanted to enjoy the soup guilt free. “If I wanted a nutritionist, I would’ve asked for one.” Jungkook didn’t reply, merely grabbed a bottle of mineral water and chugged half the thing in one gulp. “So, who were you meeting today?” You knew exactly how you sounded. Jealous, desperate, lonely. But you didn’t care, a huge part of who you were was being far too curious for your own good, you were infamous for that. “A woman.” You didn’t prod further. Getting Jungkook to let you into his home and meet his daughter (even if it was just as a makeshift babysitter) was more than enough for you and pushing your luck wouldn’t be a smart decision.
“What about you?” He questioned warily, tone apprehensive as if he was dipping his toes into icy water. “Hmm?” You were too invested in consuming the last of the soup to find an answer for his question. “You seeing anyone?” The spoon slipped from your hand onto the metal bowl with an uncomfortable clank. “No, I haven’t had the time and all the men I’ve met suck.” That was half true, you tried to date but something always went wrong before things could become official. You didn’t put out in a ‘reasonable’ time frame, you couldn’t allocate enough time to spend with them, you were too young, too inexperienced, too focused on school, not focused enough. There was always fault on your part and it encouraged you to simply give up. You’d have been a fool not to take the signs the universe was hurling at you.
“Even Jensen?” You laughed obnoxiously at the mention of the man you purchased an entire death note for. “Especially Jensen.”
When you were finally in the comfort of your bed again, you couldn’t sleep. Not when Jungkook was seated on a chair next to you with his hand on your head. “You have a bit of a fever.” He spoke softly, noticing the way your eyelids were heavy on your eyes. You made an effort to respond to him. “I’ll be fine. I ate, I took medicine, this is already more than I’ve ever done to treat a cold. My immune system’s probably throwing a party.” Jungkook chuckled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He couldn’t help but worry. It might’ve been because Jungkook was used to being a worried caregiver, or maybe it was because he always felt responsible for you when you were younger. “I’ll stay till your fever goes down and then I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.” You hummed in approval, too tired to do much else and from that point forward things began to deescalate.
Your fever went down and your breathing was smoother, there was nothing more that Jungkook could wait for and yet he did. He stayed in the uncomfortable chair for far longer than he should’ve, as if your sickly pale, sleeping face was the most interesting thing in the cosmos. “I’m sorry.” He muttered under his breath to no-one in particular though unconsciously he knew it was for you. You grew into your features well and maybe it was just the sickness but you seemed so tired, too tired for your age.
Every time Jungkook purchased a new phone, he made sure to use the same sim card so that he could keep his number. He never told you but he read all of your tangents, even when you stopped thinking he received them. Jungkook’s guilt, that had accumulated with every message had been masked by his misplaced anger, began to subside the night after you watched his daughter. Eventually, it all came crashing down onto him like a roof no longer supported by the pillars of his poor judgement. Jungkook shattered his phone during practice a year ago and couldn’t recover the SIM card and the guilt which was now at the forefront of his mind had him feeling responsible for ruining your childhood, even though he deemed you the sole conspirator for the tragedy that was his.
“Jungkook?” Your groggy voice pulled him out of his misery and he was quick to react. “I’m here.” He took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze although he realised soon enough that it was not what you were hoping for. "Go home, loser! I can take care of myself.” You swatted him away with no real intention of harming him though in your weak state he doubted you could if you wanted to. Jungkook knew you didn't need him because you didn’t just take care of yourself, you took care of his brother when he was on the grim edge of suicide, you took care of his parents when his absence was too powerful for them to cope with and you took care of your broken home, shuffling between two estates like a care package. Jungkook knew you could take care of yourself, he just wanted to make up for making you take care of his mess too. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” And with that he stood, feeling a small ache in his muscles from being seated for so long.
“Wait!” He was barely outside of your room before you called him again. “If it’s not too much trouble, you should come back with more soup.” Jungkook continued on his way, shaking his head in disappointment but chuckling nonetheless. You sighed when he left, weirdly enough you felt like you were on eggshells with him, as if he was always one mistake away from disappearing again. Disturbing your 15-minutes of solitude, Jin had returned from his date which you had unintentionally crashed, you would never hear the end of it. “You bitch. I had to share my date with a four-year-old because of you. And I’m cute okay but not cute enough to top a child, Y/N. You’re such a fucking cock-blocker, I'm never forgetting this.” And just like that, your piercing headache was back.
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“I don’t get it, Kyomi. You were fine with Y/N last week?” Jungkook felt like tearing his hair out of his scalp, despite his four years of experience, parenting wasn’t getting any easier. There were new hurdles hiding in the corner of every milestone, new triumphs came interlaced with new battles that hid behind the fleeting glory. “I miss Suzy!” Suzy was Kyomi’s old babysitter who Jungkook decided to forego because you offered to babysit his daughter for free and money didn't grown on trees. However, it felt like a mistake when he was on the receiving end of his daughter’s temper tantrum. She was normally level-headed but she was a child after all and it wasn’t her fault Jungkook barely knew what he was doing. “I know, baby, but she was going to have to leave eventually.” It was weird, trying to explain the issues with attachment to a four-year-old when he didn’t quite understand them himself. Jungkook had never been on the side of those left behind, after all he was a master at running away. “I. Want. Suzy!” Kyomi began to scream and stomp her feet they way four-year-olds do when they don't get their way and Jungkook needed to get to training so he caved, even though he knew he shouldn’t have. “Fine, I’ll call Suzy but this is your last day with her, understood?” She nodded with a tear-stained face and Jungkook knew very well he’d have to fix this mess later but he couldn’t afford not to humor her in that moment.
Thankfully, Suzy was free and understanding, despite being a college student, she tried her best to make time for Kyomi and Jungkook truly appreciated it which he thought he conveyed well through her hefty pay check. “I’ll be back before 8. Sorry, again.” Jungkook began to explain the second he opened the door but she was quick to wave him off. “It’s no biggie, I love watching her. She’s such an angel.” Jungkook scoffed at the irony but had no time to explain, hauling his ass out of the building with his gym bag hanging from his shoulder.
Something he’d forgotten to do in the midst of the chaos was call you and let you know that he’d no longer be needing your assistance which left you with quite a shock when a girl, barely older than you, had opened the door to his house. “Sorry I’m late I- Oh…is Jungkook here?” She shook her head, her beautifully styled curtain bangs framed her perfectly symmetrical face elegantly. “He said he’d be back around 8, I’m Suzy, his babysitter, would you like me to let him know you stopped by?” She gave you a warm, genuine smile which you found hard to reciprocate. Jungkook just had to find the most beautiful and seemingly kind babysitter there was to replace you without notice. “No, it’s fine but thanks for letting me know.” You left with whatever fraction of dignity you had left and a promise to have some words with Jungkook.
You did something wrong. You must have. Why else would Jungkook hire someone else when you were willing to watch his adorably sassy daughter for no charge? You kicked a stone on your way out of his driveway which was heavier than it looked. You winced, hopping to relieve the stress on the toe you had unintentionally stubbed. It only soured your mood even more, pushing you to send a strongly worded text message on your way to the bus stop because you had ordered an uber there and could not afford to splurge on one back. Being financially independent was harder when you didn’t have a car.
To: Jungkook
I don’t know why you felt the need to replace me but you could have at least said something instead of making me go all the way to your house only to humiliate myself because you already had someone watching Kyomi. That was a dick move. 😡 😡 😡 😡 😡
Delivered 17:43
You hoped the angry faces didn’t undermine your argument because immediately after sending, you realised they made your message look rather childish. But, there was no time to dwell on your texting mannerisms. You had dark brooding to do in the comfort of your home where you would rant Jin’s ears off.
Jungkook read your message during his water break and felt his levels of frustration reach an all-time high as he tried to inhale an entire litre of water in one gulp. “Jeon, get back here let’s work on your hooks!” His coach was also mad at him, but that he could deal with by following his rigid instructions, which meant putting down his phone without formulating a response to your angry proclamation which, to no surprise, only made you angrier.
Read 19:02
After checking your phone and realising he had read the message without responding you decided it was official. You hated him. After allowing the anger (and jealousy) to fester, you had officially decided you despised Jungkook. Not only did he read your message and not respond but Jin was not home to receive your venting, leaving you alone to handle your emotions alone without a figurative punching bag (or even a literal one, you weren't picky). While you had breezed through academics like a race car driver who’s rent was due, emotional intelligence was not something you could streamline but most of the time you could handle things maturely.
This was not one of those times.
Jungkook had called you around 8:30pm, but you didn’t bother answering. The silent treatment was both a petty and effective way to convey your discontentment. On the other hand, Jungkook was about one push away from a meltdown and really needed you to pick up. “Thanks for helping me get her into bed, Suzy. You’re an angel.” Jungkook may have been exaggerating but he meant every word, there was exhaustion seeping from every crevice in his body. “I don’t mind, I like her. You look really tired, let me make you some tea.” Suzy was a natural caretaker, when someone needed help she offered it and Jungkook was in no position to deny any help.
“She threw a tantrum for you, you know. I’m gonna need you to start sucking at your job a little before she forces me into making you my wife.” Jungkook was joking, he knew that, Suzy knew that and yet she still let her mind dwell, heat rushing to her cheeks at the comment. “Would that be so bad?” Jungkook didn’t answer. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find him attractive, and if this really was the last time she’d be babysitting Kyomi, then making a move wouldn’t be unprofessional, right? “Here you go.” She set the mug on the coffee table in front of the couch where Jungkook was sitting, or slumping, more accurately. When she walked around to the back of the couch, Jungkook assumed she was getting ready to leave but he hadn't seen her walk towards the door. She stood behind Jungkook's couch, feet moving back and forth as she pondered whether or not she should confess. She decided against it in the very last minute, too afraid of being rejected. "Good luck, Mr Jeon. Thank you for everything." She left with a self-indulgent peck to his cheek and Jungkook had unknowingly upset yet another woman in his life.
“You should call him back.” Jin, being the ever-so wise man he was had been pestering you about the phone call you ignored. “What if he needs you?” You continued to focus on your paper for ethics, it was a bad idea to write about philosophy when angry but you needed it done and the hate fuel was pushing out 30 words per minute. “He has Suzy.” You mumbled under your breath in a spiteful tone, Jin held back the urge to roll his eyes. “You’re jealous of his babysitter? You’re down bad, Y/N. Real bad.” You scoffed in astonishment at his insinuation. “Am not.” “Are to.” “Am not.” “Are to.” “Am not.” “Then call him back.” You walked right into that one. “Fine.” You grabbed your phone with a brute force unparalleled by anything else on this earth. You were livid about being strong-armed into calling him back and even madder that Jin had been absolutely right. You were down bad.
You held the phone to your ear, essay long since forgotten and Jin out of the room in hopes that giving you privacy would calm you down. It did. “Hello, Y/N?” You were quiet on the other line. Every ounce of rage you had accumulated over the evening had evaporated at the sound of his soft, tired voice. You felt bad, even. “Hi.” Your voice was small, breathing even smaller but still audible and Jungkook could almost sense the hostility dissipate with every exhale. “I’m sorry for not calling you it just slipped my mind, honestly. Kyomi threw a tantrum about how she wanted to see her old babysitter again and I just couldn’t handle it. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” God, you felt like such an asshole for immediately assuming the worst. Jungkook was a grown man with genuine problems that you couldn’t even fathom having. You needed to be more considerate.
“I’m sorry too. I reacted immaturely, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt next time.” Jungkook felt the corners of his mouth move into a smile at the sound of a ‘next time’. Weirdly enough, spending time with you didn’t seem like the worst possible thing anymore. “I’m free tomorrow, how about I take you out to lunch to make up for the strenuous journey from your place to mine.” He was mocking you, but with such a kind preposition you couldn’t bring yourself to care. With a radiant smile that you were so glad he couldn’t see, you responded as monotonously as you possibly could. “Yeah, sure I guess.” Macho, real smooth. “Oh! Please bring Kyomi!” And with that shrill request, your tough exterior came crumbling down faster than your brain could process it. “I’m sure she’d love that.”
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Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could call that lunch a date but he was unconsciously treating it like one. He spent far too long picking out an outfit and even longer on his hair. He thought about tying it up but felt it was too intimidating and yet having it down felt too informal. In a true dilemma, he had entirely forgotten about getting his daughter ready too. In a rush, Jungkook haphazardly threw together a cohesive outfit and almost symmetrical pigtails but Kyomi was cute no matter what, she wasn’t the one with the problem. “Bub, do you think daddy looks better with his hair up or down?” Asking for advice from his 4-year-old daughter was about as low as Jungkook was willing to stoop, but if anyone knew him well, it was her. “Down. I can pull on it then!” She giggled, her advice entirely unhelpful in the long run, although the visual of you pulling his hair in an entirely different context had seemed enticing. Focus, Jeon. This is not a date. But it sure as hell felt like one.
And you weren’t doing much better, in fact, one could say that you were doing worse. “Jin, is this dress too much? I think it’s too much? Oh god, you think it's too much too!” A hot mess would be a severe understatement, Jin hadn’t seen you this rattled since your first ever mock trial and those were grim, grim, times. “Y/N, calm down. How about that cute white skirt you have? I think it’ll pair nicely with your pink crop top.” Jin did a good job at guiding you through the first crisis, but hair and makeup was an entirely different battlefield. “Go natural.” “What if I’m ugly natural?” Jin groaned, you weren’t even trying to be modest, this was a genuine concern. “You’re beautiful okay, stop overthinking you’re making us both stressed.” “You’re right, this probably isn’t even a date.” Jin sighed in frustration, he couldn’t win with you. “He asked you out to lunch. It would’ve been the perfect date if you didn’t drag his daughter along. Are you sabotaging this, do you still think you’re undeserving of love?” There was a lot to unpack in that sentence and Jin realised he went too far when you began to spiral. “Bad joke, I’m sorry. Look, you’ve spent time with him before without short-circuiting. You can do it again.” You just needed to remember that.
“I’m so sorry for being late!” You crashed into the booth Jungkook was in, barely missing the corner of the table as you tried to catch your breath. “It’s fine.” His lighthearted chuckle supported his statement but you still felt bad, even if it was just 10 minutes, it was not a very good impression. “Y/N!” Kyomi exclaimed from her seat next to her dad, she was cute and despite her betrayal (choosing Suzy over you </3 ), you couldn’t even hold it against her. “Hey cutie! I love your pigtails.” She giggled as you reached over to play with them. “Daddy did them for me.” Jungkook had a smug smile, shrugging to emphasise his apparent finesse. “I can tell.” Your sarcasm was met with an offended gasp but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to feign offence when you were laughing so ecstatically. You always had a beautiful smile, he was glad he didn’t ruin that.
It was quiet for a while until Jungkook spoke up. “So, um- how’s Junghyun?” You lowered the menu to look at Jungkook who was deflecting eye contact by keeping his eyes trained on the list of specials. This was the first time he ever brought his family up, you tried to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. “He’s doing well actually, trying to start his own graphic design business. He’s engaged too, I haven’t met her yet though.” Jungkook tried not to let his relief show, but there was a weight on his shoulders ever since you told him Junghyun wasn’t doing well emotionally 4 years ago. He felt 200 pounds lighter. “Has he- Uh, When’s the wedding?” It wasn’t hard to see that Jungkook was struggling, after all not seeing your family for 6 years only to hear about them thriving without you was a hard pill to swallow. He was happy for his older brother, truly, but he kind of wished you had said that he missed him miserably. It was selfish, but he couldn’t help it. “Hasn’t set a date yet but you’re on the guest list, you know?” Your voice was soft, you were testing the waters, afraid to say something wrong. Jungkook’s knuckles were turning white from his iron grip on the menu. Evidently, even Kyomi could sense the tension. “I want ice cream.”
After a substantial amount of convincing and a promise for ice cream in the near future, Kyomi caved into getting an actual lunch instead of dessert. She had settled on a kids meal which consisted of a mini burger, fries and a juice pop. Frankly, you were quite jealous, you wanted a juice pop too. “Schnitzel for the lady. Steak for dad. How’s the meal kiddo?” Your waiter had been quite perky, he was probably your age, maybe younger but had a contagious smile and a likeable personality. Kyomi responded with a cute smile and a thumbs up, she knew not to speak while she was eating. Jungkook should write a parenting book.
“So, how have you been?” You were two bites into your schnitzel when you choked. “Shit, Y/N, chew.” You glared at him while drinking the water he’d thrusted into your hand. “Bad word, daddy!” You watched as Kyomi gave Jungkook’s bicep a playful punch. Your attempt not to laugh was a feeble one. “Should I learn the heimlich before I ask the next question?” “Funny, Jeon. Actually, I’ve been okay. I’m trying to be financially independent so I got a job at the campus library but my parents still pay my rent so its kind of counterproductive.” Jungkook gave you a skeptical look, one that ensued judgement. “Okay before you judge!! Rent is expensive and with a blackhole of a roommate like Jin, groceries literally take up half my pay cheque.” He held his hands up in defeat as he chewed through a mouthful of his medium-rare steak.
“Trust me, I know how expensive living alone can cost.” Jungkook didn’t mean to bring up his past or make you feel guilty for relying on your parents but he had done just that in one mere sentence and the tension thickened to the point of borderline tangibility. “I really am sorry you had to do that, Jungkook. But look at how well you’re doing.” You took his hand into yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re like carbon, you’re the strongest under pressure.” “You just had to slip a chemistry analogy in didn’t you? Nerd.” You snatched your hand away with an angry huff and Jungkook couldn’t say he didn’t miss your soft grip. “Way to ruin the moment.” You bitterly began to cut at your schnitzel again while Jungkook’s devious laughter filled the silence. It wasn’t until Kyomi innocently joined in that you felt true offence.
After you had finished your satisfying meals (although you did have to force Jungkook to help you finish your fries) Kyomi, who seemed immune to the exhaustion of eating, had demanded to be taken to the nearby park and who were you to deny her? Seated on a nice patch of grass under a tree, you watched as Kyomi played on the playground. Jungkook let you sit on his jacket because you were worried about your skirt getting dirty, perhaps chivalry wasn’t dead? “I regret wearing a skirt. I’m sorry about your jacket.” You were staring up at the sky through the breaks in the tree’s canopy as you spoke, Jungkook had his eyes trained on his daughter.
“Skirt’s cute.” When you turned to look at Jungkook, you weren’t surprised to see a stoic expression but you felt the blush creep up at his compliment anyway. “Thanks, I like your ripped jeans, they scream ‘millennial desperate to relate to the youngsters’” Jungkook’s scoff at your brutal backhanded compliment was loud and aggressive, he even broke concentration on his daughter for a split second to send a fierce glare your way. “Never complimenting you again.” You pouted jokingly, batting your eyelashes at him for comedic effect. “Oh, come on, I said I liked the jeans!” Jungkook’s hand moved to squeeze your face on impulse, by the time he thought to stop it, it was too late. “You’re trouble, Y/N, what happened to the good girl I knew 6 years ago?” The butterflies that had been dormant in your stomach for far too long had suddenly began flying with newly established speed. You stuck your tongue out at him after he let go of your cheeks to distract yourself from your newfound urge to jump him. Was he always that alluring?
“Daddy!” Kyomi had bombarded Jungkook’s lap with a force only a 4-year-old could possess. “Oof- what’s wrong, sweetheart?” She pointed to a small poodle who was walking through the park on a leash next to an old woman. “I want to pet it but I’m too scared to ask.” Jungkook groaned, head lulling backwards tiredly, the poodle was pretty far and he really didn’t want to get up. “I’ll take her?” Kyomi looked at you with hopeful eyes and Jungkook quickly nodded, the dog looked harmless anyway. “Come on, let’s go.” You held your hand out for Kyomi to take but she was far too excited to merely hold your hand, she dragged you forwards quickly, breaking out into a sprint towards the white fluff ball.
Jungkook watched you from a distance, glad he had someone to help when he was too prideful to ask. You had a weird intuition, some kind of radar for when Jungkook needed assistance. Like a spidey-sense, for a lack of better a word. Seeing Kyomi happy, genuinely happy, with you made his heart clench in his chest painfully. He knew whatever you both had was temporary, you’d eventually leave. At the end of the day it was just Kyomi and him. They only had each other and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t enough. “Daddy, daddy! She was so soft and her name was Miri and she was 4 years old! Just like me!” Jungkook made room in-between his legs for his bubbling daughter, like this he was at eye-level with her and could see the way her dimples grew when she smiled up close. Jungkook never thought he could love someone as much as he loved her but then again there were a lot of things in Jungkook’s life that he never knew were possible. Like reconciling with you, for example, or the spontaneous urge to kiss you in that very moment.
When Kyomi had returned to the playground, Jungkook couldn’t help but look at you gratefully, conveying the ‘thank you’ on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised when you moved to lay down, head on his leg which had been stretched out as he leaned back against a tree. When Jungkook hadn’t pushed you away, you took it as a sign to alleviate the awkward tension. “You should trim your nose hairs.” He looked down at you, hand grazing against his nose. “I already do? You know what let me see yours.” In attempt at being playful, Jungkook unconsciously positioned his face far too close to yours and you felt your heart rate soar exponentially as you giggled, trying to hide your nose from his prying eyes. Eventually he stopped to look at you and it felt like time stopped too, but before he could even think about inching closer, you pushed him away. You had to keep him at a distance if you didn’t want to get attached. “My nose hairs have nothing to do with your’s old man.” Jungkook couldn’t fight the smile plastered on his face.
“You’re fucked.” Namjoon stated, holding up pads that Jungkook was punching into for warm-ups. “I’m not, it was probably just the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in a few months.” Jungkook regretted telling Namjoon about the weird feeling in his chest because the wise man had immediately assumed the worst. Love. “Then get laid, I assure you, you’ll still wanna kiss her.” Namjoon was joking, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but feel as if there was some truth to his words. All he needed was a one night stand to rid himself of the intrusive thoughts. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Every sexual experience after her had been hard, he had a constant fear in his mind that something would fail and he’d end up like he did 4 years ago; alone, confused and too young to be a father.
“Head in the game, Jeon. Your punches are distracted.” Jungkook didn’t even hear his coach come in which only solidified the man’s concerns. “You okay? You’ve been off lately and if something’s wrong we need to fix it before the semis.” In all honesty, a lot was wrong. Jungkook hated boxing, he liked the adrenalin but the fear that one day he may not come back to his daughter had him panicking every time he put the gloves on. Jungkook hated being alone too, but he grew accustomed to it and somehow the idea of you changing that made him sick to his stomach. Jungkook hated his family. Or at least that was what he told himself when he found himself thinking about his brother or his parents. So yeah, a lot was wrong but all Jungkook could fathom was a bleak ‘I’m fine’ as he stepped down to get ready for his actual training.
“You’re improving, and you have a real shot at winning this, Jungkook, I’d hate to see you throw it all away for whatever bullshit’s bothering you.” Jungkook couldn’t blame his coach for his word choice, the man was 38 and single and with Jungkook being 24, the idea of him having a kid had never slipped his mind. He couldn’t blame him for not considering things he didn’t know about but he sure as hell wanted to. “I don’t want to box anymore.” It was quiet, hushed and apprehensive. The words felt heavy on his tongue and for a second, he thought his coach didn’t hear them. “I know, I’ve known for a while actually, you’re not as happy when you win anymore and look, I get it, it’s scary, it’s hard and it’s demanding but if you win the title, you’ll be set for life. Then you can retire and never lift a finger again.”
Jungkook had put his blood, sweat and tears into giving Kyomi a good life. He bought a large house with more room then he could ever know what to do with, he set up a savings account that put more to her 4-year-old name than most adults he knew and he didn’t cheap out on insurance; property, car, contents, life, health, optical. You name it, he’s probably got it. But the thought of doing something better, having more to give her, was enough for Jungkook to push his doubts behind and accept another match. He would do anything for his daughter, and if that meant risking his life a few more times he could handle it.
“Okay, but after this season’s over I’m out. I mean it.” Jungkook’s coach merely smiled at him, gave him a strong pat on the back and muttered ‘good lad’ under his breath. Weirdly enough, he considered him the father figure he never had. After all, he gave him a job when no one else would and if it wasn’t for him, he’d still be grovelling for work on Namjoon’s couch.
After practice, Jungkook had decided to follow through on Namjoon’s premise, to test whether or not he really had feelings for you or was sexually constipated. It was dumb, and he had taken it way too literally but before he could even begin to stop himself he was messaging you.
Jungkook
You mind staying overnight? Have something I need to do.
Read 21:39
Jungkook wasn’t surprised to see you read the message instantly, you were always near your phone.
You
No biggie n are you sure it’s something and not someone? ;)
Read 21:40
You sent the message in hopes of getting a specific reply. ‘Nope, I’m just off to do some overnight yoga’ or something else that was equally as lame. You may have seemed uncaring in the message, but there was no way you were going to truly reveal the fact that you were jealous. That would mean you would have to acknowledge your feelings, and that could have been seriously damaging.
Jungkook
Thanks
Read 21:47
Jungkook’s late reply and the fact that he dodged your question like a predictable bullet had said more than he wanted to. You told yourself you didn’t care, but it was hard to lie to yourself when you were convinced you had no reason to. You tried not to dwell on it and tucked your phone away. Kyomi was excited to hear about a sleepover.
Jungkook felt out of place. The bar was loud and far too busy for a Thursday night but he persevered, sucked it up and took an open seat. His predetermined fears of losing his game were abruptly disproven when a girl had approached him before he could get his first drink. He didn’t really remember her name, doubted she remembered his but the night didn’t go as well as he would’ve planned, despite it’s almost perfect start. When Jungkook had prepared to leave the bar with her, he failed to feel that sense of luck or enthusiasm. Frankly, he didn’t feel much at all and even if it was just a one night stand, he knew she deserved better. Jungkook faked a phone call and told her he had to leave, she seemed a little disappointed, but it was nothing she wouldn’t get over.
Jungkook liked you, as more than just a friend and he needed to deal with those feelings before they’d metastasise in his chest and suffocate his heart.
It was almost midnight and Jungkook didn’t want to return home on the off chance that you were awake and ready to bombard him with questions. Your curiosity was simultaneously the worst and best quality you possessed. He walked around, the city a lot quieter in the middle of a weekday night, it was peaceful despite the harsh lights. He kept going, walking down the relatively empty street with very little direction. Everything was tranquil, for a little while at least.
A drunk middle-aged man had stumbled into Jungkook, grumbling something about how he should watch out. Even though it was in no way his fault, Jungkook didn’t humour him and continued on his way, a mistake evident in the fact that the grumbling didn’t stop there. “Oi! You’re not even gonna apologise, you ass?” The man grabbed Jungkook’s shoulder harshly and forced him to face him, he attempted to throw a punch but Jungkook moved faster. He yanked his arm off his shoulder and pushed him away. “Oh, you think you’re tough, huh?” Jungkook merely sighed in exasperation. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, he tried to walk again but it was not received well. With a newfound sense of anger and feigned sobriety, the man kicked Jungkook, causing him to fall forwards and scrape his cheek on the concrete path.
At his limit, Jungkook chuckled before dusting himself off, he stood up, face to face with the man a few inches shorter than him. “I’m going to give you one last chance to walk away.” Instead of taking Jungkook’s peace offering (and he really should’ve) he tried to throw another punch but this time Jungkook did more than just block. Losing the semblance of self-control he had left, he punched back, hard enough to send the man to the floor. Before he left, he called a cab for the clearly intoxicated man and continued on his way; he was angry, not a monster.
Frustrated and exhausted, he decided to go home. To hell with your questions, he wanted to take a shower and sleep. When he had made it back to his car, he took a moment to collect himself and clean the cut on his face. He really hoped it wouldn’t scar, he couldn’t imagine having to explain the story behind it.
When he had finally made it back to his home, Jungkook wasn’t surprised to see all the lights off. He didn’t expect to see you splayed out on the couch, though. Jungkook’s eyes panned over to the television, you were watching Ppongebob this time, he’d have to thank you for ensuring you were child-friendly at all times in his home later. Jungkook slowly made his way up the stairs so not to wake you and just when he thought he was out of the woods, he dropped his car keys and watched as they tumbled loudly down the glass staircase. There was no way you’d sleep through that.
You woke up panicked and sat up quickly in a haze. A bit like a meerkat but Jungkook could laugh about that later. Your eyes darted around to find the source of the noise and Jungkook could visibly see your shoulders slump in relief when you saw his figure at the top of the stairs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” He was apologising sheepishly, hand on his neck as he deflected eye contact. You were more concerned about the cut on his cheek. “What happened to your cheek? Why are you home so early? Wait what time is it?” Jungkook didn’t know which question to tackle first, in fact he had really hoped you’d skip out on the interrogation. “It’s 12:48am, just sleep here, it’s too late to go anywhere. I’m guessing you know where the guest room is?” You nodded in response as you rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. Jungkook felt guilty for waking you up, especially when you looked up at him with glossy eyes and puffy cheeks.
You definitely knew where the guest room was but there was a reason you never used it. First and foremost, it had a really big window that just so happened to showcase the trees surrounding Jungkook’s property. It was terrifying at night and there was no lamp. You could deal with the dark, but not when there was a scary window and far too much empty space. That’s why you preferred to sleep on the couch but there was no denying that you would not survive overnight on the uncomfortable leather. Just a nap was enough to make your shoulders hurt. Why are expensive couches always so uncomfortable? You took a deep breath and made your way to the guest room. You could do this, you were a grown woman, it was just a room.
It took you approximately 45 minutes of laying so incredibly still you may have petrified yourself for you to realise that you could not, in fact, do this.
The quiet patter of your feet could be heard in the halls, amplified by the empty space. When you finally reached what you assumed to be Jungkook’s room, your hands stopped tentatively on the handle. “Jungkook…” You whispered quietly, peaking your head through the door you had opened slightly so not to wake him abruptly. “I’m awake, what’s up?” You let out a sound of relief. “Thank god, do you mind if I sleep here with you?” Jungkook choked on thin air. You were startled by his coughing fit but moved closer to pat him on the back nonetheless. “What’s wrong with the guest room?” He spoke through huffs as he regained his breath. You prepared yourself for the embarrassment of having to explain your irrational fear of the room. “It’s scary.”
Jungkook tried not to laugh at your turmoil it wasn't hard to notice that you weren't kidding. "Seriously? " he tried in hopes that it would somehow make you realise just how ridiculous you sounded. However, he did not compensate for your previously established stubbornness or the severity of your fears. "Just let me sleep here, I can sleep on the floor if you want?" Jungkook didn't want you to sleep on the floor, but the idea of sleeping next to you terrified him. You felt the same, in fact, this went against your significant rule to stay as far away from him as possible. But, sleep was a necessity you couldn't compromise no mater how many heart palpitations being close to him gave you.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll take the guest room.” That option also ran through your head, however, seeing Jungkook’s room and it’s parallel windows you realised it was not much better. “Why do you not have curtains?” The question caught Jungkook off-guard, he was half-sitting, ready to evacuate the bed so you could take over. “I wake up early and my house is surrounded by trees so no peeping neighbours. Never needed them.” He shrugged after his simple explanation and surveyed the way you bit your lip in concentration while staring at the two large windows in his room. “Not a fan of the windows?” You looked back at him and felt guilty. He looked tired and you were the one thing stopping him from rest. You could handle one sleepless night, or maybe you would take your chances with the couch. “You know what, I changed my mind I’m being ridiculous. I’ll sleep in the guest room, okay?” You scrambled out of the room before Jungkook could even protest but there was no way he would be able to rest easy knowing you were uncomfortable at his expense.
So, a good 15-minutes after you had sprinted out of Jungkook’s room like it was lit on fire, he had made his way to the guest room downstairs. “Still can’t sleep?” Jungkook’s house was so dark at night that you could barely even make out his silhouette which made his spontaneous voice all the more terrifying. Jungkook heard a small yelp, a crash and then a muffled groan of pain. He switched on the light only to see you cradling your elbow which had presumably collided with the bedside table. “I’ll be fine, I’m just dramatic.” Jungkook clearly wasn’t buying it and you felt your throat constrict, growing tighter with each step he took towards you. “Scoot over, I like sleeping on the side closest to the door.” Huh? Who would’ve thought Jungkook wanted to be the first dead in a house invasion? “Suit yourself.” You made room for him next to you because the fear of whatever the hell you felt for Jungkook was slightly smaller than your fear of those goddamn trees.
“Should we make a pillow wall?” Jungkook was glad he had switched off the lights so you couldn’t see the amused smile on his face. “I can keep my hands to myself, how about you?” You gulped, almost positive Jungkook could hear how fast your heart was hammering against your ribcage, or maybe he could feel the heat radiating off of you as if you were a piece of molten rock. “I’m good.” You tried to reply but it ended up sounding more like a squeak. Thankfully the words were coherent because all Jungkook did was turn over.
With his back towards you, a weight was lifted off your shoulders but you couldn’t quite sleep yet. You had a habit, a stupid, overgrown habit of cuddling your almost infinite supply of stuffed animals to sleep. It started when you were young, to fill the void that your broken family left you and stuck well into adulthood because you were just as lonely, if not even lonelier. You should really see a therapist. However, what truly troubled you was the possibly precarious fact that at any given moment, your need for something to hug would manifest itself into your subconscious and force you to hug Jungkook despite the inappropriateness of the action. The embarrassment of a situation that hadn’t even occurred yet was already beginning to daunt on you.
So you turned your back to face the windows (which didn’t seem all that scary anymore) in hopes of minimising your risk of unsolicited cuddling. Sleep came easy after you had focused on synchronising your breathing with Jungkook’s out of pure convenience and once you had slipped into unconsciousness, you could slowly feel your anxiety slip away.
When you had woken up the next morning to a body close to yours, you began to feel panic swallow you almost immediately but once you had finally blinked the blurriness away from your vision, you realised you were in the exact same position you had fallen asleep in, except this time a little bit closer to the centre of the bed. One look downwards made you aware of the fact that Jungkook was the one cuddling you and he had somehow pulled you closer to him throughout the night. ‘I can keep my hands to myself.’ He said. What a liar.
You couldn’t say it didn’t feel nice and you selfishly tried to fall back asleep in hopes of making the moment last just a bit longer. When you turned your head to face Jungkook, he had been deep in slumber and it was the most peaceful you had seen him since - well, did you ever really see him at peace? Jungkook must have somehow sensed your gaze because he was blinking the sleep away from his eyes moments later. “Morning.” His morning voice was warmer, less sharp and yet all the more comforting. You were too busy being stressed about being caught admiring his sleeping face to truly appreciate his voice. “Morning.” You replied apprehensively, as if you could somehow postpone your humiliation.
“You were about to fall off the bed so I pulled you away from the edge, guess I feel asleep like that, sorry.” Jungkook was pulling his arm away before you could beg him not to and suddenly, the sound of small feet and ragged sniffles had engulfed the room. “Daddy! Thank god!” Kyomi jumped onto the bed, in-between your bodies, with a brute force, no mercy for Jungkook’s organs which had definitely experienced some internal repositioning. “I thought you were dead. I woke up and you weren’t in your room. You’re always in your room, daddy!” You tried not to laugh at Jungkook’s glazed expression, his perception of reality was just beginning to form.
“Sorry, baby, won’t happen again.” Jungkook’s groggy, deep morning voice may have been the very reason you were having unnecessary intrusive thoughts at 8:49am on a Friday but you wouldn’t dare stop it. Wait, 8:49am?
“Shit, I’m gonna be late to class.” You rushed out of the bed, barely untangling yourself from the mess of limbs between Jungkook’s legs and yours. “That’s a bad word, Y/N!” “Sorry!” You screamed back from the living room as you searched frantically for your bag. Any other class you wouldn’t mind being late to but your torts professor was pure, unadulterated evil. Satan’s incarnate if there ever was one and you did not want to be stuck helping her grade first-year papers on Saturday. “You look like you could use a ride.” There it was again, that sexy, stupid voice that made you want to scream into the void without ever stopping. “Yes please.” Once you had finally found your bag, you were rushing to shove your feet into your sneakers. Thankfully you didn’t wear converse, that could’ve been a disaster.
Jungkook grabbed his wallet, keys and daughter before meeting you at the door. You were much too stressed to wait for him to put on a pair of shoes so you snatched the keys from his hand and ran down his driveway. “Wait, Y/N, you’re not driving!” There were many reasons you shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. One, you were still on your learner's permit. Two, there was a 4-year-old child in the vehicle. Three, you were very likely to end up speeding to get to class and finally, Jungkook’s Mercedes was far too expensive to risk third-party damage, even if he had every kind of insurance. “I know, I’m just turning the engine on so you can floor it the second you get in.”
He did not floor it.
Alternatively, Jungkook was just about the safest driver you had ever seen. His driving style in stark contrast to the tattoos that littered the hand he had on the wheel, stretching all the way up to his shoulder. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had any tattoos underneath his shirt. Snap out of it. “So, when’s your class?” Jungkook looked at you through the rear view mirror and could faintly see the top-half of your head as you combed through your hair and applied makeup. Jungkook could feel the corners of his lip upturn at the way your tongue peeked out the corner of your mouth while you concentrated on your mascara. You just woke up and you still found a way to make his heart stop.
“9:30, but my professors a real b- bad person.” You corrected yourself before Kyomi could in her booster seat next to you. You told Jungkook sitting at the back gave you more room to get ready, really you just wanted to see more of Kyomi before your inevitable death. “You’ll make it on time, don’t worry.” You hoped he was right, the university was a 15-minute drive at it’s fastest and Jungkook, in spite of his gorgeously intimidating looks, was not hurled out of a Fast and Furious movie.
Jungkook was right, you made it to class at 9:20, a little disheveled and in yesterday’s clothes (you really hoped that the sweatshirt you fished out of Jungkook’s trunk per his instruction would cover that up) but otherwise fine, and early. You would live to see another day. However, you could not say that you were able to stay awake for the entire duration of the lecture, thankfully, nobody seemed to notice and when the class was finally over, all you could think about was sleep.
Two days later, you had woken up early in the morning with a heavy groan. You had a shift at the campus library. 7-12. You stretched out the exhaustion in your bones but it did little to help, you were far too young to feel this much back pain. “Hey, I’m going grocery shopping today so make sure to update the list before you leave.” You threw a meagre thumbs up towards Jin in response, but your roommate didn’t care for your disgruntled demeanour. You were always like this before your shifts.
Not even 2 hours into your shift, you saw the devil’s incarnate before your very eyes. “Hey, cutie, whatcha doin’?” You ignored the urge to gag as he threw finger guns your way, Jensen definitely had it out for you. “Working but you already knew that. Why else would you be in a library? You don’t read.” It was true, Jensen rarely ever stepped into this place before you started working there. His commitment to annoying you was admirable even if he lived on campus. “I’m here to see your adorable face.” Jensen pinched your nose playfully and you flinched at the impact, he was so goddamn irritating you were very literally considering homicide.
“Look, I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I really want to try to make amends and you’re not helping.” If this had been anyone else, your harsh resolve may have faltered, you may have felt sympathy even. But Jensen was one stone cold mother fucker, making amends would not benefit him in anyway and was therefore not on his agenda. He wanted something from you. “What do you want? Did you really lose that Dickens book? Because I can’t help y-” “Hang out with me.” Flirtatious comments weren’t outside of his norm, he employed them often for extra annoying affect™ but Jensen never asked you to hang out or hinted that he may have been the slightest bit interested in you, even platonically. “No.” You deadpanned, you genuinely believed that he had some sort of ulterior motive, he must have if he was coming to you for friendship.
“Come on, just one time. One time, and if you don’t realise that I’m not the asshole you think I am I’ll never speak to you ever again, I promise.” The idea of a Jensen-free life was extremely intriguing, after all you were confident that you would still find Jensen an insufferable asshole after whatever kind of hell he’d put you through. He clearly thought he could use some of his outdated boyish charm and win you over. You were more than happy to crush his ego and get rid of him in one night. Two birds with one stone. “Why, you never found me interesting before?” “Wrong, I always found you interesting not my fault you hate my guts. Look, in all honesty I’m sick of sleeping around and partying with people who secretly hate me. I want to spend time with a genuine person for once and even though you despise me with every fibre of your being, you’ve been upfront and sincere with your feelings since day one. I need that.”
What was that? Were you feeling remorse? For Jensen? Really? This wasn’t going to end well.
“Fine, but how do I know you won’t just keep annoying me?” Jensen froze for a moment, almost as if he was in thought, too bad he was not capable of thinking. Suddenly, Jensen surged forward to place his mouth next to your year. He whispered something very despicable that he had done to his father’s car and pulled away. “If you want nothing to do with me and I don’t leave you alone then you can tell my father what I just told you.” Blackmail, bold of him to assume you wouldn’t hold this over his head for the rest of his life, if it was even true of course. In the case that he was lying, you’d just end up in the same position you were in and if he was telling the truth, then you would live a very peaceful life for the semester and a half you had left. It seemed like a worthy bargain. “Deal.” Before you and Jensen could shake on it, your phone rang.
You weren’t technically supposed to answer but the library was dead and the librarian was on her tea break so what was the harm in a quick phone call? “Hello?” You learnt from your mistakes and read the caller ID that time, after realising it was Jungkook who probably wanted you to babysit Kyomi again, you answered quickly. Jensen noticed the smile that immediately overtook your face. “Hey, Y/N.” “What’s up? Need me to watch Kyomi?” Jensen was trying to deduce from the snippets of the conversation, who could make you smile that brightly. On the other side of the phone, Jungkook was bitting his lip, cautiously questioning whether or not he was making the right decision; acting on his emotions had never ended well for him.
“No, I just dropped her off she’s at a playdate with a friend she met at the park a while back. Her mom’s amazing, helped me a lot with parenting tips.” Jungkook overshared and deflected, he did that often when he was nervous but there was no way to stop the word vomit from flowing out. “Oh, that’s so cute!” You were grinning and Jensen was appalled at the sight, he even mocked your tone ‘oh, that’s so cute!!!’ and you flicked his forehead with a scowl, mouthing ‘shut up’ in response.
“I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today, we could watch a movie after too? If you’re not busy.” If Jungkook was nervous, you couldn’t tell. He spoke with a tone so confident you wondered if you had actually hung out like this a million times already. “I would love to, I get off work at 12!” You agreed on impulse, before your brain could catch up with your racing heart. Jensen spared you from the mocking, but he couldn’t deny the way his chest tightened at your beaming acceptance, if only you could respond to his proposals that way. After the words had left your mouth and Jungkook promised to pick you up after your shift, you were left with your thoughts which had to make room for a new revelation. You liked Jungkook, borderline loved him and no amount of physical distance could change that.
Deep in thought, you began to think that perhaps, you weren’t destined for solidarity. Perhaps, you were as deserving of love as everyone else. Perhaps, and this was merely hypothetical, there was hope. You were being dramatic, blowing things out of proportion but how could you not when Jungkook had suggested something that sounded a lot like a date. However, considering how the last almost-but-not-quite-there ‘date’ had gone, this could have very well been just another platonic invitation to do platonic things.
“Y/N, hello? Earth to Y/N?” You broke out of your trance after Jensen had started snapping at you like a puppy. “Oh my god, what do you want?” There it was, annoyed Y/N was back and Jensen felt a sense of accomplishment every time you glared at him “Who was that?” “No one.” Your defensiveness definitely alluded to something. “Is it a boy? Is he cute?” “I already agreed to your stupid scheme, you can go now.” “You like him, don’t you?” You whined at his incessant prodding and Jensen knew he struck gold. Was it upsetting that you were already interested in someone? Yes. That didn’t matter though, especially when Jensen promised you he was looking for nothing more than friendship. He could set his entirely unexpected feelings aside.
When you had gotten back to your apartment, you had 40 minutes before Jungkook would pick you up which was objectively enough time to get ready for a casual lunch. However, that justification would not stop you from stressing over what to wear, nothing on god’s green Earth could. Jin was busy grovelling through all of his achievements to apply for a TA position in hopes of easing the fees from his masters and you weren’t in the mood to deal with his wrath (which was inevitable every time you distracted him).
You settled on a white velvet white sweater and a pair of leggings. You looked comfortable and not quite like you had rolled out of bed on a bad day. You decided to forego any makeup because overdoing it would have been much more embarrassing than underdressing. Before you could decide to completely change everything about yourself for the umpteenth time that day, Jungkook had called your phone, letting you know he was outside your building.
With a final look in the mirror and a cliche ‘you’ve got this, Y/N’, you were on your way.
Jungkook made some sort of creamy pasta, you couldn’t remember the name for the life of you because your mind had been flooded with thoughts of how gorgeous Jungkook had looked. You’d seen him in workout attire, in a suit and yet his homely look was hands down your favourite. You clearly were not doing a good job at hiding that. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.” You might as well have because you were just as, if not more, afraid then you would’ve been in the case of a supernatural interaction. At least a ghost was clear with their intentions. You had no idea why Jungkook had invited you over looking like sex on legs and the curiosity was killing you.
“You want something to drink, wine? Or are you still adamant on keeping your liver intact?” You briefly remembered when you had found Jungkook 17 and drunk, you could vaguely recall the lecture you had given him, something about your liver evidently thrown in there. “Water’s fine- wait, do you have apple juice?” Jungkook surveyed the contents of his fridge and reached in only to grab a kids pop top. He looked at you sheepishly, almost disappointed that this was the only thing he had to offer. “I can pour it into a-”
“And prevent me from the joy of the satisfying pop? Hand it over, daddy.” You didn’t mean it that way, you definitely didn’t mean it that way and if it wasn’t obvious from your tone, than the way you had merely focused on opening the seal on the juice rather than panicking like Jungkook was had done the job of conveying your very innocent intentions. That didn’t stop Jungkook’s mind from going there and you had picked up on your mistake when the room had fallen into an awkward silence. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You offered a genuine apology, cheeks flushed with the realisation of what your actions had insinuated. Jungkook waved you off, stuffing his mouth with pasta to justify his speechlessness.
“This is really good. Did you buy it?” You gave Jungkook a skeptical look that he countered with a pointed glare while taking a swig from his wine. You were being entirely serious, before Jungkook had run away he was an abomination in the kitchen. “How many times do I have to cook for you to realise that I just became a culinary god?” You took the rhetorical question too seriously and Jungkook braced for the snarky comment you were going to inevitably make. “If you can make macarons, then you will officially be a culinary god.” Jungkook wasn’t big on baking, he made cupcakes with Kyomi for her fourth birthday but cupcakes were significantly easier than macarons. He made no comment and lunch continued on peacefully.
“You done?” You looked down at the almost empty plate that you hadn’t touched in a good few minutes and nodded. When Jungkook moved to clear the table, you offered to help but he shut you down so confidently there was no room for protest. You watched his broad shoulders clear the plates and rinse them. He grew up to be such an incredible man, he defied every one of his parents stereotypes triumphantly. He was successful, happy and had a beautiful daughter. All of that without a single ‘A’ in his life. “What are you smiling about?” He joked, hand coming up to flick the bottom of your chin playfully. You snapped out of your trance with a timid smile that pushed Jungkook to wonder if he had done something wrong.
In all honesty, you were trying hard not to focus on the way your heart would expand three times its size every time his eyes met yours. You were trying to ignore the way your hands would get clammy when he was near you and you definitely didn’t want to think about the jealousy that consumed you every time he spoke about a girl that wasn’t you. But you did and the question slipped off of your lips before you could stop it, like an avalanche against the crisp winter wind, you didn’t stand a chance. “Remember when you told me you were meeting someone a while ago…what um- what happened with that?” There was no way to stage the question cooly, no way to protect your pride and quench your curiosity. “Oh! I was meeting a sponsor.”
You stared at him flabbergasted.
“A sponsor? But you- you even asked me if I was seeing anyone!” Jungkook had the audacity to chuckle, chuckle, at your turmoil. You had been thinking about who Jungkook was meant to meet that night for far too long for it to just be a sponsor. “Wanted you to think I had my shit together. I haven’t dated anyone in a while.” You tried not to let your ego inflate at the notion that Jungkook wanted to impress you and hyper-focused on the last sentence which brought you an embarrassing amount of relief. “And Thursday night?” You watched as his gaze hardened at the mention of that horrible night, the cut on his cheek was still healing from the altercation. “Thursday night was a bust. I tried but I just couldn’t. All I could think about was Kyomi.” And you, but Jungkook knew better than to say that part aloud. You took his hand in yours, you were both standing in his kitchen and it was possibly the least romantic place of all but that didn’t stop you from staring at him with the softest, most loving eyes you could possibly muster. “Someone will come, and they’ll love you and Kyomi with their entire heart.” And it could be me, but you didn’t say that aloud either. Before the tension could get thicken, Jungkook diffused. “Movie?” You let go of his hand and nodded.
Choosing a movie was harder than you thought it would be.
“What?! Are you insane? I cannot believe you just said that. I can’t believe I let you into my house!” If a bystander had been listening, they would’ve assumed that you insulted Jungkook’s entire lineage but no, all you did was suggest that ‘Fast & Furious’ had too many sequels. “I’m sorry, okay. I just think 9 movies is pushing it.” “How many Harry Potter movies are there, like 50? You used to be obsessed with that shit.” You tried not to be offended at his choice of words, you took a deep breath before attempting to reason with him. “8 films actually and I’m not obsessed anymore okay… Let’s just watch the avengers or something.” His irritated gaze had softened at the mention of the MCU which was something you could both agree was worth your time. “Which movie is your favourite?” “Infinity war.” “You’re wrong, it’s Age of Ultron.” “That’s subjective.” “Not if you have good taste.” Well, the mere 15 seconds of peace were great while they lasted. You didn’t want to argue anymore so you merely nodded in defeat and Jungkook moved quickly to find the film on Disney plus.
However, for Jungkook’s favourite Avenger’s film, he had paid little attention to the movie. His eyes barely diverted from you for most of the opening of the film, it wasn’t until you faced him to laugh about some comedic foreshadowing that you had noticed his hazed stare. “Hmm, what’s wrong? Do I have something on my face?” He shook his head quickly before retracting back into thought until he eventually decided to voice his concerns.
“Do you remember when I was 14 and you chased me all the way to the beach because I was upset and wouldn’t tell you why? And I told you some assholes were making fun of my name and you told me that only you could make fun of me so you waltzed over to them the next day, a good foot shorter and yelled at them in front of my entire grade.” How could you forget when Jungkook had so vividly explained it. It was an embarrassing memory you tried to suppress but Jungkook had singlehandedly destroyed your efforts. “Yeah?”
“I was mad at you because you made me look weak in front of everyone in my grade but those boys never bothered me ever again and I never said thanks… So, thank you.” You looked at Jungkook who was entirely serious, not a single part of his face wavered under your astonished expression. Your mouth dropped in disbelief. “You’re welcome, I guess? Where’s this coming from?” You tried to pry into Jungkook’s brain and weirdly enough, he was willing to let you which was a peculiar thing he had done that quite a bit that day. “There’s a lot of thanking I have to catch up on, felt right to start from the beginning, no?” Movie long forgotten, you and Jungkook peered into each other’s eyes as if something behind those orbs was the key to existence. As if the answers to every significant philosophical question were woven into the streaks of your eyes.
Jungkook rarely acted on his hedonistic urges, an unexpected kid taught him not to, but he couldn’t help the way his lips gravitated towards yours. He wondered if you felt the same way, if you were thinking of some weird chemical explanation like electromagnetic radiation, whatever the hell that was. On Jungkook’s slightly uncomfortable couch, under a fluffy blanket with Disney princesses on it and watching a movie neither of you had been paying full attention to, you felt the most at peace you had been ever since your parents divorce. It scared you to think that Jungkook could make you that happy, especially when he so plainly not yours.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispered and you didn’t notice how close you had gotten until you could feel his breath on your skin, your body answered for you as you pushed to close the distance between your lips. If you were magnets, you would definitely be oppositely charged because you never wanted to pull away. Eventually, because oxygen was an innate part of life, you pulled away. You, far too eager, quickly chased his lips and in spite of every temptation that was stacked against him, Jungkook pushed himself away, still close enough so that your noses were touching. “I need to know that we’re on the same page here. I like you, Y/N and I want to give this a shot.” You couldn’t even begin to explain the relief that rushed over you and the excitement that coursed through your veins, interlaced with misplaced adrenaline that made you agree a little too quickly. “We are definitely on the same page.” And this time, when you had moved to kiss him, he didn’t push you away. Instead, your lips found purchase against his and as cliche as it sounds, it felt like home, being in his arms again despite the fact that you failed to get along in the ancient beginning. You depended on Jungkook for a long time once upon a time and you were elated to have him by your side again.
Before things could escalate - although with Jungkook’s heavy distrust in protection you doubted they ever would - Jungkook’s phone rang. The default Apple ring tone resonated in his apartment and you let him answer begrudgingly, already missing his lips against yours which were definitely swollen from all the biting. Jungkook was a good kisser, that was a fact written in stone. “Hello, everything okay?” His fingers moved to answer the call quickly, it was Jen, the woman who’s daughter Kyomi was hanging out with. “Everything’s fine, Jeon.” She chuckled into the phone at his worried tone, he was always worried when it came to his daughter even more so than her but she never blamed him. He was running a two-person ship alone. “The girls are both pretty tired, you mind picking her up before they start a fight over legos?” Jungkook laughed and you perked up at the mellifluous sound, trying to figure out who Jungkook was on the phone with that was more important than you. >:c
“I’ll be there soon, thank you so much for having her over. I’ll have to invite Sam over sometime too.” A few empty promises about future playdates later and Jungkook was finally off the phone. “Are you going to pick Kyomi up?” You asked, having deducted that much from the snippets of the conversation you had heard, Jungkook made a sound of agreement in response, stretching in front of the couch. “Can I come?” Your question painted a smile on his face, one he couldn’t put away even when he leaned down to give you a peck. “Of course, want me to drop you off?” You shook your head quickly, response far too quick which Jungkook couldn’t help but find endearing. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to find an explanation that didn’t make you sound like an absolute perv. “We um, haven’t finished the movie…” You pointed to the screen that was undoubtedly still playing the movie you had stopped paying attention to. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow at your obvious lie but made no move to debunk it, he just grabbed his wallet and keys off of the counter and cocked his head towards the door, gesturing for you to get up.
Kyomi knocked out in her booster seat, much too exhausted from the fun she had at her friend’s house. Your head was pretty much permanently turned to the backseat to coo at her. Jungkook kept trying to stop you, afraid you’d wake her up and he’d end up with a grumpy Kyomi. “Calm down, I’m just looking at her. She’s so cute.” Jungkook pinched your side when the car had stopped at a red light. “You’ll have all the time in the world to stare at her when she’s awake, okay? Once she wakes up it’s impossible to get her to sleep again.” You listened to Jungkook’s pleading and returned your focus to the road, his hand slipped from where he had playfully pinched you to rest on your thigh. In an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks, you complained that the car felt suffocating and opened the window. Jungkook didn’t question it, at least not out loud.
Once Kyomi was safe in her room, sleeping away in the comfort of her bed that was probably worth more than your kidney, Jungkook returned to find you on the couch playing a cat game on your phone. It was really simple, but it seemed to occupy all of your attention enough for you to miss Jungkook entirely until his head was next to yours. You smiled when his lips pecked your cheek, his hand coming up to turn your head to face him. You kissed him distractedly, eyes still pinned to your game. With an annoyed groan Jungkook snatched the phone from your hand, discarding it behind him onto the couch. You whined into the kiss but paid full attention to him nonetheless, when he pulled away you were frowning.
“I was about to unlock a new cat, you know?” And it was a genuine issue, those cats were hard to unlock! Jungkook feigned sympathy which only seemed to piss you off even more so Jungkook pulled away, raising his hands in defence as he mumbled an apology. Wanting to get up, you moved to raid his kitchen for a snack. And yes, you understood that the man was a boxer who needed to stay fit but was it necessary to be so painstakingly healthy? His pantry was filled with wholegrain cereals, oats, nature valley bars and what you assumed was some sort of protein shake container. Even Kyomi’s snacks were healthy; raisins, popcorn, corn chips. No wonder he judged your food supply so harshly, this man was a living health commercial. You returned to the couch empty handed, hungry and annoyed. Were you exaggerating about the cat game thing? Sure, but the hunger had certainly played a part in your annoyance.
“You hungry? You didn’t finish your pasta.” God, he sounded like a dad more and more every time he spoke. “I’m okay.” You lied and drew your knees up to your chest to support your brooding face. You were being a little dramatic but you both knew well enough that it was all in jest, at least for the most part, that cat really did matter to you. “Mmm, I don’t believe you. I can make you something?” You shook your head and moved to grab the remote to his TV so you could finish the damn movie that he fought so hard to watch but doesn’t even care about, but, Jungkook wasn’t convinced. The way you snatched the remote told him you were far from fine even though you were not trying to send any subliminal messaging. He left the couch but you paid little attention to where he went, you probably should’ve because then you could’ve prepared your poker face for when he had returned with a plate of your favourite fruit. Consequently, you felt your frown begin to alleviate, and were your eyes softening? Over watermelon? You’re so whipped it’s disgusting. You stared at the plate of cut up watermelon like it was a marriage proposal. He remembered. Or maybe it was just a lucky guess.
“Ah ha! I knew this would work.” Jungkook had a proud smile on his face, mirroring your small one as he handed you a fork. You barely mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before you raided the plate, careful not to drop anything because you did not want to be perceived as a slob and you’d had enough of watermelon stains (thank you, Jin) for a lifetime. Jungkook sat back and paid attention to the movie he initially suggested, but he still had no interest in the film, not when you were next to him with red lips and focused eyes.
Jungkook had a lot to ask you and he had a lot of issues he needed to sort through but those were difficult things to navigate and Jungkook was sick of difficulty. He was lucky you were so understanding about the radio silence from your family and his but he knew that he’d eventually have to speak to them again, it was inevitable and that alarmed him. To think that at any given moment, 6 years worth of baggage could tear you both apart. “You should get seedless watermelons.” Jungkook turned away from his TV to give you a quizzical look. “They make those?” You almost choked on the last piece with a laugh. “Genetic modification, they can make anything. You know there’s apples with red flesh? They’re red inside and out, Jungkook, it’s so cool!” You could almost sense the ‘nerd’ sitting on his tongue but he didn’t say it, he merely smiled at you in disbelief. “You know what, Y/N, entirely red apples are cool!” Jungkook wasn’t trying to be sarcastic but he couldn’t skilfully feign interest in whatever the hell you were talking about. “Don’t patronise me.”
When you got up to put the plate away and wash your hands, Jungkook had come up behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist. You heard him coming, he wasn’t necessarily the quietest person ever but you could deal with a little noise if it always came in such a cute package. “Jungkook you’ve watched like 2% of your favourite movie. I’m starting to think you’re a liar.” Before you could continue your mischievous criticism, Jungkook’s lips began making their way down your neck, starting at the crevice between your ear and neck, all the way down to your clavicle. You were going to protest, push him away and declare that you were moving too fast but his lips were addictive, like morphine if the opioid made you feel like you were on cloud nine.
However, your cloud was temporary because the second the soft patter of small feet resonated off of the kitchen counter Jungkook had flinched away from you like a hand on a burning stove.
“Daddy?” Kyomi, still rubbing her eyes and far too young to understand the tension she had created had gestured grabby hands at her father who quickly moved to pick her up. “Hey cupcake, you still tired?” She shook her head despite the way her eyelids heavily rested on her eyes or the way her head kept nuzzling into his neck. He knew better than let her sleep any longer though, she’d keep him up all night. Speaking of things that kept him up at night, where did you go? The kitchen was now void of any presence other than him and his daughter and he couldn’t see you on the couch.
“Y/N?” He yelled out, a little concerned but more perplexed at the way you disappeared into thin air. “I’m in the hallway!” Jungkook, daughter still perched on his hip, made his way to his hallway only to see you shoving your feet into your shoes. “You’re leaving already?” Jungkook had a feeling, a burning intuition that you were upset about the way he reacted when his daughter had run in but you had to understand that introducing a girlfriend to a child was difficult. Wait, were you even his girlfriend? Did he manage to screw that up too? “I realised I have homework due in like an hour and I haven’t even started. I’ll take the bus it’s coming soon, anyway. Thank you for dinner and the watermelon! Bye bye, Kyomi.” You waved exaggeratedly to the little girl who matched your energy despite her tired state, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.
Jungkook believed you, your smile was genuine and you were mature enough to understand why he couldn’t exactly tell his daughter about you yet. Besides, it had been the very first time you had both perceived each other in a setting other than platonic friends. He wasn’t wrong, you were telling the truth but that didn’t change the fact that his actions left a bitter taste on your tongue.
“Daddy, I wanted to play with Y/N…” Kyomi was pouting, upset at the fact that you had to go right when she woke up and all Jungkook could muster was a sigh and a quiet, “me too.” And he was genuine, he wanted to spend more time with you but his daughter and increasingly tight schedule made that difficult. “Well, you’re stuck with daddy so I’m gonna count to twenty and if you’re not hiding, the tickle monster’s gonna get you!” Jungkook set his daughter down with intentions of distracting her (and himself) from your unexpected flight and she immediately began running away, loud giggles bursting through her cheery lips.
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“Are you sure it wasn’t a homie kiss?” You looked at Jin from your side of the coach with a glare so ferocious it might have very well killed the man. “I hope you don’t kiss your homies with tongue, Jin.” Despite your venomous tone, Jin appeared unfazed, smirking at your comment and hollering as loudly as one could in an apartment complex with neighbours who sent noise complaints about heavy breathers. “Damn! I can’t believe your first real boyfriend is a dilf.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment. “What do you mean ‘first real boyfriend’, what about Jimin?” “Lasted 2 weeks and you barely even kissed so it doesn’t count.” “Mark? We dated for 2 months!” “You barely even talked to each other and he was seeing another girl, so it doesn’t count.” Ouch. But okay. “What about Zen?” “The kid you told me you ‘married’ in elementary? Really?” You were out of options and Jin was right, Jungkook would be the first man you actually had genuine intentions of staying with for longer than a few months and that horrified you because if you were being honest, you knew that firsts were always destined for failure.
“I’m doomed.” You said the words with a heavy weight, as if you were speaking your damnation into existence. Jin flicked your forehead harshly, no mercy for the poor skin. “Ouch. Screw you, first you give me an existential crisis and then a bruise?” He was about to flick your forehead again but you were quick to defend. Before a petty flicking battle could ensue, Jin spoke again. “You’re such a baby, you won’t get a bruise. And you are not doomed, this is going to work out just fine, I can feel it in my left kneecap.” Jin often said weird things and you had gotten quite used to his absurd comments. Taking his claim at face value, you replied with a sincere concern, “the same one you dislocated last Summer? I’m definitely doomed.”
And you were indeed doomed but not in the way you had initially assumed you would be. It had been well over a month since your spontaneous movie date at Jungkook’s house and yet you still felt like his dirty little secret. He asked to be his girlfriend a little after your first date and he still hadn’t mentioned you to any of his friends nor did he let you meet them, even Namjoon had to find out about his best friend’s relationship from Jin. And his daughter? Jungkook wouldn’t even hold your hand when she was within a 100 foot radius and you while you tried to be understanding, anyone would have felt horrible in your position. You felt like you were unworthy, as if you didn’t fit Jungkook’s pre-conceptualised image of a perfect family. As if he didn’t see a future with you.
He treated you as if you were something he was ashamed of and with your complicated past, the insecurities that had begun to erode away persevered, becoming stronger than ever. But you couldn’t bring yourself to talk him about them; you were afraid you’d push too hard, be too dramatic and end up hurting him in the process. Jungkook was kind and extremely empathetic but that didn’t stop the haunting thoughts of your self-worth or the prying eyes of unknown on-lookers (who knew well enough that he was way out of your league) from making you feel like he wouldn’t understand.
Every second you spent with him felt beatific, blissful, because he made you feel like the most important person in the world, right up until you weren’t anymore and he’d push you away you like you were nothing more than his daughter's babysitter, or on good days, a friend. It was frustrating because he was so insanely addicting, more than any narcotic and yet you couldn’t have him when you wanted to. He made you happy and yet in moments when you were upset, you couldn’t reach out to him, at least not with the expectation of a timely response. Your dates with him (which were few and far between) felt like they were on a constant timer. Eventually, whether it was Kyomi or his job, something impenetrable intruded your only alone time together.
And while these feelings continued to slowly fester inside of you, rearing their ugly heads as they occasionally made you unconsciously bitter, they reached an all time high when you were watching Kyomi at your apartment one eventful Friday night. Jungkook was having a party the weekend before his semi-finals on Wednesday, a party he didn’t invite you to. But you didn’t take it to heart, or at least you thought you didn’t.
It was almost 1 am when Jungkook returned and Kyomi was fast asleep in your room. Sleep didn’t come to you as effortlessly as you wanted it to, not when your mind was hyper-fixated on the party Jungkook was at. He told you earlier this day that he didn’t want to throw another party but it was a tradition for the contenders and breaking that tradition would be ‘sacrilegious’. You didn’t feel like interfering with a realm you were very unfamiliar with and so you took Kyomi with open arms. But his discontentment with the nature of the party didn’t change the fact that no one knew you existed and there were going to be girls much prettier than you who would probably be interested in your objectively handsome boyfriend. No one ever told you that a major con of dating a a man that sexy would be the constant feeling of insecurity.
It was selfish and something you needed to work on alone so you never thought to bring it up to Jungkook; your jealousy was something you would have to learn to handle. But before you could imagine yet another scenario that would crush your weak, feeble heart, keys rattled at your door. You knew it was most likely Jungkook since Jin had assured you he was probably going to spend the night at his boyfriend’s. You gave Jungkook your spare key so he wouldn’t accidentally wake Kyomi up with the knocking, or you on the off chance that you actually got a semblance of sleep.
“Oh, you’re awake?” Jungkook looked tired, and it was evident in the ways his eyes were drooping. He could have been asleep if he had simply trusted you, a person he had known for almost his entire life, to take care of his daughter for just one night but he couldn’t bring himself to sleep if he wasn’t near Kyomi. You understood because it was reasonable to want to be near your child at all times but that day, those ugly heads were rearing, amplifying your frustration about every little thing that peeved you that night exponentially.
Withholding his trust was another thing you told yourself you’d have to understand but it didn’t make it any easier for your overactive mind to wrap your head around. Why couldn’t he trust you? “Couldn’t sleep.” you said curtly, and Jungkook picked up on your annoyed tone but made no move to address it. That was a problem he could deal with later when his head didn’t weigh 100 pounds. You were on the floor, back against the couch as you messed around with your chess board, playing different openings. Jensen had come over earlier in the day and you played a few games. Believe it or not, you were kind-of friends now.
“I see you’re still into chess.” Jungkook tried to spark conversation and you nodded absentmindedly in response before remembering something that would probably cheer the both of you up. You sat up quickly and turned to him with an excited smile. “I taught Kyomi a bit, she already knows the Sicilian! I’m sure she’ll forget it tomorrow, though.” You joked but Jungkook didn’t laugh; he didn’t even smile. In fact, it seemed as if he was scowling? “You taught my 4-year-old daughter chess?” Jungkook made it sound like it was a crime, as if you had singlehandedly ruined her childhood by teaching her how a few wooden pieces moved across a 8x8 board. “Calm down, It’s no biggie, I started learning when I was 3.” “How did this even happen? She told you she was bored and you thought to bring out the most boring game in existence?” You weren’t sure where his hostility was coming from but you were beginning to grow even more annoyed. A hostility of your own forming.
“It was out already when you dropped her off, without notice by the way, and she was curious. What’s the issue? You may think it’s boring but I like chess a-” “Kyomi isn’t fucking like you!” Jungkook cut you off with a stern yell, not loud enough to cause a scene in your apartment building but loud enough to risk Kyomi waking up. You both hadn’t thought of that in the heat of the moment. All you could think about was how his words cut right through you; a familiar sting you hadn’t felt in six years began to develop in your chest. Before you could even begin to respond, Jungkook kept going and sunk his proverbial dagger deeper into your heart. “And I don’t want her to be.” The room feel silent, no more were the clattering pieces of wood against the chess board or the chime of Jungkook’s chain bracelets as he moved his hands around. You finally realised what a deafening silence felt like because despite the tranquility, your heart had never been so loud in your ears. Drumming like the bass in a loud parade except there was no joy or laughter, just migraines and heartache.
You didn’t even know you were crying until Kyomi had emerged from your room, startled by the noise and your solemn face. “Daddy?” She shuffled closer to her father’s figure and his eyes widened when he realised she was awake, he really hoped she hadn’t heard what he said. “Daddy, why is Y/N sad?” Jungkook knew the answer quite well; because I’m an asshole who says all the wrong things when he doesn’t even mean them, but he bit his tongue as the familiar beginnings of a profusion of guilt began to accumulate in his chest. He thought he was over his issues with the past, evidently not.
“She’s just tired sweetheart, let’s go home, hmm?” Jungkook held his hand out for his daughter to take but she stayed frozen near him. Her large eyes that Jungkook was convinced held the galaxy were fixated on you who had been trying to wipe the perpetual waterfall of tears that wouldn’t stop escaping your bloodshot eyes. Like a splintering water dam, Jungkook’s words had been the final push needed to collapse the walls you spent your entire life building. Essentially, he’d opened the floodgates to your insecurities.
Were you really that horrible to the point where Jungkook couldn’t stomach the idea of his daughter liking the same things as you? How on earth were you supposed to move past this, stay together for as long as your life would allow if he couldn’t even handle the idea of his daughter being anything like you. Children were impressionable.
“Kyomi, we need to go, now.” Kyomi was intuitive enough to know that Jungkook only ever called on her by her real name when he was mad or upset. She knew from his stern tone that she should have listened and in spite of that, she ran over to you and offered a hug. Kyomi was well aware her dad would never hurt her and that assurance was enough to conquer her fears of being berated so that she could blatantly disobey him. The sight threw him for a loop. For four years of his life Jungkook and Kyomi had been loyal to each other, had each others backs whenever times were tough because they were all they had and yet there she was, showing you that same loyalty because you needed it and it was all his fault. He told himself that hiding you from his daughter would stop her from getting attached in a way that meant more to her than just a babysitter. Clearly he was too late.
Jungkook stood there as if he had anchors attaching his feet to your tiled floors. The sight of you holding his daughter in your arms as you choked on your tears brought a different kind of hurt into his life despite the fact that Jungkook was well versed with pain. From the punches he received or the degrading looks from the people who were meant to love him unconditionally or even the painful fear of staring a newborn baby alone and afraid; Jungkook knew pain like the back of his hand and yet he’d never felt it quite like this. “Kyomi, we really need to go. Dad’s tired.” You pulled her out of your hold and ushered her to her father, assuring the worried girl that you were fine, only emotional because you watched a sad movie. She believed you, mostly because she saw the way you balled your eyes out when you, Jungkook and her had watched ‘Hachi’. Kyomi thought you were one of the strongest people she knew and would therefore be okay. So, she left with her father feeling a little less worried than she was before.
Kyomi was wrong. You were definitely not strong and you were far from okay.
The next morning your eyes were swollen and your mouth was dry from the incessant crying that had to have drained you of at least half of your water content. You didn’t sleep, not even for a second and even though the headache pounding against your head was begging for relief you couldn’t bring yourself to eat so you could take any medicine. Jeon Jungkook was a mean man and while you knew that lie was not even remotely true, you repeated it in your head to make yourself feel better. Blaming him meant that you wouldn’t have to think about where you went wrong even though you knew that you should’ve talked to him about how you felt, maybe then you would be in his arms and not your messy, cold bed.
Jungkook had been punching the boxing bag in his home gym since 3am and the sun had fully settled into the room by the time he finally stopped. He hoped the exertion would make the agony in his chest alleviate but it only made things worse. No matter how many punches he threw or how much his legs ached he still thought of you. The image of your beautiful, tear-stricken face and the sounds of your broken sniffles were all he could think about every time he blinked. Jungkook was willing to let his eyes dry out if it would guarantee him peace.
Kyomi slept in that day, tired from her late endeavour where she had to comfort two adults. Despite Jungkook’s assurance, she did not believe he was fine. And he definitely wasn’t, so, when she insisted on sleeping on his bed with him he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. Jungkook realised well into the night that he couldn’t sleep so he spent the time training for what was undoubtedly going to be the second-most important match of his career. The first being the finals that were already set for the following Friday, he felt the weight of the unparalleled pressure that rested on his exhausted shoulders. This was Jungkook’s first national match and if Jungkook he were to win the next two rounds he would be the next national heavyweight champion. He would finally be able to spend every second with the daughter he loved more than anything else in his life.
Jungkook thought about messaging you, it crossed his mind more often than not but he didn't know what to say and spent an abnormal amount of time rewriting the same message over and over. "I miss you, I'm sorry." And despite Kyomi's urge to complain about her boring new babysitters or how much she missed you, she was well aware that her father needed peace so she kept her tiny mouth shut. She was right to do so, with the semi-finals steadily approaching Jungkook needed all the help he could get. Jungkook didn't like the idea of relying on his four-year-old daughter for emotional support so Jungkook pretended he was fine whenever she was around. Every other minute Jungkook coped by doing what he always did in times of doubt; continued training until his lungs gave out.
The day of the semi-finals had you seated at the edge of your bed with your phone tightly clasped in your hands. You waited, anxiously, for Jin's message that Jungkook was okay because even if he hurt you, you couldn't handle the thought of anything happening to him. Your leg vibrated with nervousness but the only vibration you truly paid attention to was your the one from your phone. With every notification that wasn't Jin, you could feel the worry laced with well-intended frustration seep into your bloodstream faster, making it difficult to breathe at a reasonable pace.
It was safe to say that you did not take Jungkook's criticism very well. You spent two days crying whenever you felt the slightest urge to, a day of working through misplaced anger, cursing men, chess, watermelon and everything that reminded you of the brown-eyed brunette which brought you to Wednesday, when all you could feel was the remnants of loss. You missed Kyomi and Jungkook and ironically, distance did make the heart grow fonder.
Philosophy: 1, Y/N: 0.
You were violently ripped out of your trance when your phone had vibrated in your hand's tight grip.
"He won and he's okay. Poor guy couldn't even get a good punch in."
You didn't fight the proud smile on your face or the sigh of relief that escaped from your lips. In the comfort of your room, you were your worst critic and you could argue the unethical-ness of watching people fight for sport any other time but that day you were solely glad that Jungkook was safe. When your phone vibrated a second time within 10 minutes of Jin’s message, you were expecting more updates from your roommate but you were pleasantly (that’s debatable) surprised to see Jungkook's contact light up your phone instead. While you were flattered that he immediately thought of you after winning the biggest match of his career, the message was a bleak "can we talk?" And you couldn’t say you were shocked, Jungkook was never a good texter but you agreed anyway. You knew ‘can we talk’ usually preceded a horrible break-up but it wasn’t like there was much room for the situation to get worse.
The night following Jungkook’s extremely anticipated win, he was wiping his clammy hands on the material of his jeans while waiting for you on his couch. Jungkook thought about what he was going to say over and over, perfecting everything to a tee with a figurative list burned into the side of his brain. He even looked at the small cardboard box of macarons he’d spent hours baking for you earlier that day. He was determined to win you back and if that meant being vulnerable (something he very much hated) then so be it. Jungkook would lay himself bare for your judgement. Before Jungkook could recite his apology one last time, his train of thought had been disrupted the second he heard the doorbell ring. When he opened the door, his eyes landed on your form, depleted and void of any joy, he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat.
“Hey, come in.” He moved out of the way to make room for you and while you normally jumped into his arms straight away, you stuck to the far end of the hall, as far away from Jungkook as physically possible while you slipped off your shoes. Converse. He was glad to know you weren’t planning on making a quick escape. “Do you- uh, do you want anything to drink?” You shook your head, standing awkwardly in the open area between his kitchen and living room. Jungkook moved first, sitting down and patting the space next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when you sat on the single chair to the right of his couch instead.
As Jungkook raked through his brain in hopes of finding the list he had so confidently confided in just a few minutes ago, you decided to speak first. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries with your daughter.” Your voice was soft as always but it wavered, unsure, afraid and all he could do was hope that you weren’t afraid of him. “You don’t have to apologise for teaching her a game, Y/N.” Jungkook didn’t mean to come off condescending but he winced at the sentence the second it left his mouth. You looked a little taken aback and Jungkook wanted the ground to simply swallow him whole. God, he was notoriously bad at apologies. “Right…” Following your feeble attempt at filling the silent void was yet another silence that was not only awkward but uncomfortable. You were waiting for an apology, an explanation, an excuse, anything, you weren’t picky. You just wanted your boyfriend back.
“You know, when I first met Kyomi I had no idea she existed until I was in the hospital. Her mother was a one night stand I had at Namjoon’s friends party when I was 19. Isn’t that funny?” Jungkook laughed despondently at the mention of his bleak past. It hurt you to see him so pained so you tried to stop him. "You don't have to do this." "I do." Following his dour statement, you retracted, deciding to listen to what he wanted to tell you. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant but apparently she had some complications during the late stages of her pregnancy and the doctors told her she’d die if she went through with it. She had to deal with that alone, the fear of a situation that dire while I fucked around on Namjoon’s playstation. I was pathetic and she still put me down as her father.” Tears were beginning to well up in Jungkook’s eyes that grew increasingly glassy every time he blinked. You weren’t sure why Jungkook was telling you about Kyomi’s mother when he had been so adamant not to speak about her but you were glad he was opening up to you, even if it clearly hurt him to reopen the wounds of his past that only barely began to heal. “She went through with it anyway and I thought she was an idiot for it. God, she was only 22, who the fuck gives up their life for a baby they haven’t even met at 22?” Jungkook wiped a tear off of his face the second it fell and some of your own were beginning to sting your sensitive eyes which had grown rather sick of crying that week. But you couldn’t help it, not when Jungkook was so visibly upset about something that incredibly difficult, not when all you could think about was how hard it would be to recover.
“I got a call from the hospital a few hours after she was born; they told me I had a daughter over the phone and hung up, just like that. I brought an entire person into this world and found out about it the same way I order pizza. I felt sick and I didn’t know what to do so I ran to Namjoon all the way from my tiny ass apartment and he booked a flight with me, went to Japan with nothing more than a duffle bag he messily packed in the midst of the chaos. He stuck with me through the most difficult time of my life even when all I'd done for him is screw things up.” Jungkook was smiling with pride through the blur of his tears at the mention of the man he admired with every inch of his body. Namjoon truly was a saint and you were completely crying by the time he had confirmed that; trying to stay as quite as possible as Jungkook revealed out the darkest parts of himself to you. You could never tell he’d been through so much, how he kept such an agonising memory hidden from the world was beyond you.
“I didn’t know her well, barely knew her name but she sacrificed herself to bring Kyomi in the world. She trusted me, a stranger who was piss drunk at some college party to take care of the child she laid her life down for. I wanted- no, I want to make her proud. To let her know that what she did was worth it. She saw potential in me when no one else did, she gave me my miracle. Kyomi is the only reason I turned my life around and a lot of people tell me that I saved her, that I was so courageous for taking her into my care and not leaving her to the system, but she saved me. She’s the reason I am where I am today.” He paused for a second, and moved forward, reaching out to take your hand in his and coaxing you to sit next to him. It wasn't leering, you couldn't sense any ill intent if you'd looked for it so you complied, far too sympathetic to keep up your angry facade. When you were seated next to him, knees barely touching, he took both your hands in his, engulfing them to not only convey his emotions but to calm down his shivering hands. He looked at you with those same round Bambi-eyes that you remembered so well, the ones you thought he'd lost.
“Kyomi is exactly like you, Y/N. She’s smart, kind and picks up my slack whenever I screw up. She’s sassy when she wants to be and she always critiques every little thing in movies just like you used to do. I don’t know how, but I projected the parts of you that I loved the most onto her. I was afraid of being a horrible father, of doing what my parents did to me and putting too much pressure on her to succeed. I mistakingly associated you with that lifestyle. But, Y/N,” He moved his hands up to wipe away your tears and you continued to shy away from his haunted gaze, you were never good with eye contact and he knew that more than anyone else. Nonetheless, he held your chin softly and moved your face directly in front of his. “Look at me, baby. Your success had nothing to do with your parents, or mine or anyone else but you. You are not a product of the things I hated about my childhood and it was my mistake for thinking that for even a split second. I love you and I would love for you to stay in my life and Kyomi’s.”
That was the very first time either of you had said that you loved one another and even though you felt it for quite a while, you were always too afraid to speak it into existence. Even in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop sniffling enough to tell him you loved him and Kyomi with every nanometre of your heart. Jungkook forced your head onto his shoulder, nestling your face into the crook of his neck where your sobs began to settle. Thankfully, Namjoon had volunteered to take Kyomi out for ice cream while he settled the mess he'd made. He wouldn’t know how to explain making you cry again to her. “I love you too and Kyomi, so much.” Jungkook could barely decipher your words which were almost incoherent, muffled by his shoulder and your subsiding tears. “I know and I’m so sorry. I promise I'll do better.” You believed him.
You weren’t sure how long you spent in that position but by the time you pulled away you were sure you looked like a mess. Jungkook’s shirt was damp but his face was dry, you couldn’t say the same about yours with your eyes that had swollen up the slightest bit. You exerted them a lot that week, they definitely deserved a break. “You soaked through my shirt.” “I think that's the least you deserve.” You joked with a smile and he chuckled, glad that the joy he had sucked out of you began to trickle back in again. You yawned and stretched your limbs which had been contorted into a weird position while you were crying your heart out earlier. Suddenly, a deep sense of exhaustion had consumed you and all you could think about was sleep.
You didn’t need to tell Jungkook that you were tired, he saw right through you all the time, which would definitely end up being problematic. “Are you seriously falling asleep on me, Y/N?” You could tell he wasn’t serious, but you definitely were; your eyes were far too tired to stay open. “Just let me sleep here for a bit.” Jungkook laughed at your negotiating but he genuinely couldn’t let you sleep over that night, even though he really wanted you to. “I’m sorry babe, but I have to fly out tomorrow morning for the last match.” You groaned through his explanation while he weaselled his hands around your waist to bring you up right against his chest and out of your sleepy state. You caved, sitting up on your own to put distance between you and looking at him with a worried gaze. “You better be careful, okay? I mean it Jungkook, even if you have to forfeit mid round and look like the biggest pussy in the world, you better do it.” Jungkook would have snickered at your demands if you weren’t completely serious which, you were. “Yes ma’am.” Jungkook playfully saluted in response reminding you of the very day you met Kyomi. He was definitely lying, there was no way he would risk being the laughing stock of the season but he'd say anything to satiate your pleading expression. “Before you go, you should take this.” Jungkook handed you the box of macarons from his coffee table and you took it apprehensively, unsure of what was inside. You didn't want to seem cheap. “What is this?” Jungkook didn’t clear up much after your question, just said “proof that I’m a culinary god” and sent you on your way. Or more accurately, he dropped you off at your home.
That night, when you had returned to your apartment with a heart that was just beginning to heal, the poor muscle had received yet another blow. When you opened the door to enter the place that had been your safe haven for the past four years, Seokjin had been waiting for you in the living room. “Why are you just sitting there in silence, aren’t you bored?” Before you could hurtle another joke at the man, you noticed the papers on your coffee table and your smile fell instantaneously. Jin looked vacant, as if he had no idea how to feel. Read the room, Y/N.
“Jin, what is that?” Your mind tired not to jump straight to the worst case scenario but there wasn’t much else the papers could mean. Still, a part of you hoped he’d jump up and say ‘get punked!’ with the promise of never pulling a horrible prank like that ever again. He didn't, and you knew he never would. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Your parents they-” He didn’t even need to finish, not that he could bring himself to. You collapsed onto the floor on the other side of the table, hands struggling to grab at the papers as your world had not only caved in on you but flipped in on itself and shaken you mercilessly. The universe had a weird way of working, trading one heartbreak for another. And to top it all off you had to find out about your parents' simultaneous deaths through death certificates mailed with express post.
Whatever deity there was in the heavens that controlled your life must have been playing a sick, sick, game. The worst part of it all (outside of your parents dying, of course) was that you couldn’t even call Jungkook, the man you grew up with, for comfort. Not when his final match was right around the corner and the topic of your family made him retract into his shell like a terrified hermit crab. Jin didn’t know what to say, you were clearly upset but he knew very little about your family, you never really mentioned them outside of what they did for a living. There was more that he needed to tell you but he didn’t know how.
“Also, the letter was sent by uh- by Jeon Jungyun… Y/N, does Jungkook have a brother?”
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Tag list: @ggukkieland @barbikatherine @yzkyzkuniverse @kookxin @namjeonii @euphoriagguks @/anon r :,) @simpforbangtan
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borathae · a month ago
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“Jungkook was sent by the Ravens of the Black Forest to kill the Queen of the Night Queendom. He hadn’t expected to find love when he climbed the high walls of the Queen’s castle and pressed a sharp blade against her throat.” 
Pairing: Bandit!Jungkook x Queen!Reader
Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut, Romance
Warnings: LOTS of plot & worldbuilding omgmg, an assassination attempt, gags, ropes as bondages, switch!Jungkook, domish!Reader, knife play, blood play if you squint, choking, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, rough (angry) sex, crying kink ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵉ, mutual striptease, food play in the form of feeding (bruh it’s hot), they share a bath all nakedy 👀, Kook is such an angry boy in the beginning, lmao this whole story is sending me down a spiral tbfh
Wordcount: 19.9k
a/n: This is without doubt one of my fave stories I have written so far. I love the world I created so much. And yes this takes place in the same universe Unveiled takes place. I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it! 💜 also I know it’s long, but please give it a chance, it’s really good :(
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A cold blade against your throat wakes you. Your reaction is instant. You were prepared, waiting impatiently for the day to come. 
Your murderer is beneath you in an instance. His own blade is pressed right under his eye, your fingers have a tight grasp on his throat. 
He wiggles and growls, dark eyes glued to your face.
"Uh-hu", you warn, pressing the blade tighter to his skin. 
He grunts and eyes his shiny demise. 
"Fuck", he presses out, forsaking his fight against you. 
"Better." 
You tilt his head up, nails bruising his skin.
"Now tell me. Who could be so reckless to attack me in my bedchambers?"
"You have to kill me before I talk", he spits. 
You study him. Strong body with muscles that strain against his dark clothes. Pretty face with a chiseled jaw and soft cheeks, there is dirt and sweat on his skin. He is panting heavily, chapped lips parted. His nails are dirty and broken. That means he climbed up your walls. Logical. Your castle's wolves would have found him otherwise. Clever. Means he knew the grounds and your customs. 
"You climbed. Impressive. That would have been a high fall had you slipped. Fatal even." 
He growls and sits up, getting himself pressed down again. 
"It would have been worth it", he spits.
He is angry and filled with hate. It is directed at you. Interesting. People don’t normally look at you with such hatred. Which can only mean one thing.
"Ah!" he gasps, back arching in pain. 
You slashed through his shirt, cutting his skin in the process. He wiggles, finally showing you his strength. But you pin him down by his throat easily, ripping the shirt open with one hand. 
"I knew it." 
He snarls angrily, swallowing heavily because breathing is becoming terribly difficult. 
"You are one of them", you say, studying the raven tattoo on his right pec, "The Ravens of the Black Forest." 
He growls and fights harder. You figured him out. 
"Will you stop fighting against me?" you hiss, finally putting real pressure on his throat.
His eyes widen, fingers clasping your wrist. 
"Tell me your name." 
"Never", he chokes out. 
You squeeze harder, making his eyelids flutter. 
"You'd rather die than tell me your name? Your conviction is remarkable."
His body twitches, his lips opening and closing in search of air. You laugh. 
"Remarkable really. Such devotion could be useful. Also…" 
You drag the knife over his cheek softly.
"...it would be a waste to kill such a pretty face." 
You release his throat. He coughs and wheezes. 
"There, there you'll live. It will bruise but you will live", you soothe him, patting his chest.
He calms down slowly, staring at you with widened eyes. 
"Why would you spare me?" 
"Because I am not the monster you think me to be." 
He tries to sit up. 
"Stay", you order, pressing the blade right against his throat. 
He falls down on the mattress, licking over his lips nervously. 
"That's better", you smile, "now, I’ll give you one last chance to tell me your name before I call in my warriors and tell them to throw you into a cell to rot." 
"Call them", he hisses. 
You lower your eyes in anger. 
"Valkeria! Auralia!" you call them, "your silence won’t save you stranger", you tell him. 
"My Queen you called upon us", Valkeria asks, grasping her sword. 
"A confused bird has found its way into my bedchamber. Take him back to his cage." 
"Yes my Queen." 
The stranger leaves with an impressive struggle. Your warriors have much to do. 
"You won’t get through with this! You hear me? They will come looking for me!" he screams. 
"Gag him too, he is oh so noisy and I am trying to sleep." 
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The torches flicker, casting deep shadows on the stone walls. His steps echo, giving off the impression that at least three people were being dragged over the floor. He gave up fighting one night ago when all it brought him was a cut across his stomach. It stopped bleeding this morning, but still burned. 
"Walk, will you?" the Queen's warrior tells him, tugging at his aching arm. 
"If I was the Queen, I would have fed him to Woltron three nights ago", the second warrior, who was dragging him, says. 
"Don't let Her hear you." 
"I don't care. She is too merciful with his people." 
He could feel her iron nails dig into his arm at the mention of his people. She hated him and wanted him dead. Just like he hated them and wanted them dead. 
"Valkeria please lower your voice." 
"Don't forbid my words. You know how it ended last time. Ymir is still dead and he is still on the run." 
At that he felt his ears twitch in attention. Is he, they are talking about, who he thinks he is? But that wouldn’t make sense, he never returned home. They must be talking about someone else.
"The Queen thinks this one is different." 
"Well, then she is delusional." 
He found it peculiar that they were fighting. His teacher always told him that the witches of the Night Queendom, which called themselves rulers, always stuck together. He was taught like that. Cut off one head and three new ones will take its place. That is why the witches of the Night Queendom were so successful in banishing his kind, because they always stuck together. 
"We will see of her delusions very soon." 
A lock gets turned and he gets pushed up the same stairs he had been dragged down three nights ago when he failed his mission to kill the Queen. 
"Come now little bird, don’t give up now", she warns and pushes him roughly. 
He was close to giving up. He was taught that people like him were not supposed to give up no matter how hard life was. But he felt close to giving up, passing out to be more precise. Three nights and four days is a long time with no nourishment or sleep if one had to run for five days and climb walls before that. His body was losing its will to produce strength. 
And so he stumbled, cushioning his fall with his hands and knees. It ached so terribly. 
"Get up!" 
He gets pulled to his feet roughly. He could feel the sharp pain of the warrior's nails on his skin. 
"Aren’t you people supposed to be strong? Where is that strength now?" 
"Valkeria! Stop your cruelty, can’t you see that his body is weakened?" 
He gets pulled down a familiar hallway. He stumbles with his eyes barely staying open and his head pounding. He knows that hallway. He was led through it when he was caught. They are bringing him back to the Queen's bedchambers.  
"Stop." 
She stops him with a harsh tug on his hair. It made him stumble and groan in pain. 
He could hear three knocks somewhere far away and a voice call out even further away. Then he gets pushed again, falling to his knees. 
"Oh my! Valkeria you mustn’t push him that hard." 
"I am sorry my Queen, I underestimated my strength." 
He feels a warm hand place itself on his arm and rub circles up and down his skin. 
It was the Queen's hand, he knows that it was. It gave him enough strength to lift up his head and send her a deathly glare.  
You are smiling at him. 
"Good evening stranger. I apologize for my warriors, they can be quite rough at times. Auralia please help him up and help him take his place." 
She follows in an instance. Just moments later he is secured on a chair, arms and legs tied. He grunts and wiggles, but to no avail. He knits his brows and grinds his teeth. This is it. He is going to die like a weak bitch, tied up and starved. Oh if his fellow brothers would see him right now, they would laugh at him. 
He can hear them talk behind him, the Queen and Her warriors.
"Leave us." 
"But my Queen-" 
"Leave us."
"What will you do with him?" 
"It mustn’t concern you Valkeria." 
"You know how it ended last time, Ymir is dead." 
"Valkeria, don’t speak to Her like this." 
"No, don’t defend me Auralia. Valkeria’s worries are justified….Valkeria." 
"Yes my Queen?" 
"This one is different. And if he isn’t, Woltron will be happy to feast upon him." 
He shivered at that, tugging at the ropes in hopes of getting free. Woltron. That name fell twice this night. It must be one of the wolves he heard growling behind the castle walls. As tall as trees and with a fur as dark as the night and as sturdy as the strongest armour. They scare him. 
"I understand my Queen." 
"Leave now, I can handle him from here." 
"Yes my Queen." 
He can hear a door open and close then steps as the Queen rounds him. 
"It is just you and me now." 
He grunts and challenges you with a harsh tug on the ropes. It makes his stomach ache again. 
"Don't fight it. They are laced with magic, they only loosen when I tell them to." 
"You witch", he growls and spits at your feet, "your curses can’t hurt me." 
You stare at your feet and the spot on which his saliva is glistening in the lights. 
"You have terrible manners for someone, whose life I saved”, you observe with disappointment lacing your voice.
He looks away and clenches his jaw in anger. You call it saving, he calls it keeping him captive. 
"Now, let me see if my warriors were too cruel to you." 
You lower yourself to inspect his body. His muscles were tense, his skin dirty and his shirt was clinging to his torso in torn stripes. 
"They cut you open", you observe, stroking your finger underneath the deep cut. 
He tenses and tries to flee from your touch, pressing his toes into the ground with all he got. 
"Don't touch me witch", he presses out through gritted teeth. 
"I must if I want to clean you." 
You rise to get a bowl of warm, clean water and a soft rag. The water smells like eucalyptus, making his eyes water. You soak the rag and wring it out.
"Stay still now or else it will hurt more than it must." 
He tries to fight it, tries to flee but he knows it is fruitless, soon the rag is touching his wound. He hisses and writhes under the burning sensation.
"What is that? What are you doing to me?" 
"I am cleaning you. I don’t want you to get infected." 
You clean the rag of his blood and place it on his stomach a second time. His muscles ripple in answer, fleeing the sensation. It must burn a lot, you pity him, it must be really uncomfortable.
"No, don’t touch me." 
"I know it burns. I apologize but I must clean it." 
One last time you drag the clean rag over his stomach. 
"Don't touch me", he growls and writhes.
"Will you stay still?" you hiss, straightening up to be face to face with him, "I won’t hurt you, I merely want you to feel better." 
He grunts, breathing heavily. 
"I don't need your help." 
"Yes, yes you do because right now you are tied to my chair in my chambers after starving for four days while outside an army of my strongest warriors just burns to bury their swords in your chest. So yes, you do need my help right now." 
He understands. He knows that he was outnumbered, weakened and defenceless and that your mercy was the only thing still keeping him alive. He was clever enough to realise that fighting you right now would only end in his death. He was trained for this, trained to survive when his chances were miniscule and fight when his chances were overflowing. He knew that right now the best thing to do was be complacent. 
He scoffs and stops wiggling, challenging you with a cock of his eyebrows.
"That's better", you smile victoriously and begin cleaning the cut on his chest. 
It wasn’t as deep as the one on his stomach and he had almost forgotten about it, hadn’t you dragged your rag over it. 
He hisses and tenses up. 
"It burns doesn’t it?" 
He stays quiet. 
"I know, but worry not. You will feel better once it begins working." 
"What?” he stares at the rag with widened eyes, “what have you done witch?" 
"I'm no witch", you halt your movements, "and I haven’t done anything”, you begin cleaning him again, “I merely added healing oils to the water to soothe your pain.”
“Healing oils?” he asks, craning his neck to stare at his exposed torso.
“Yes, my healers prepared them for me. They are quite helpful I must say. I use them whenever something aches”, you explain and send him a reassuring smile.
You must be lying. These aren’t healing oils. They must be infused with magic. Must be made to kill him, poison him slowly until it looks like he died of a weak body. This is all just a trick. He grunts, begins writhing again until his wrists and ankles hurt from the ropes digging into his skin.
“Will you stay still?” you hiss, grabbing him by his cheeks and squishing them, “I am almost done.”
“Leave me alone. Leave”, he grunts in exhaustion, “leave me alone.”
You sigh, dropping the rag back into the dirty water. You stand up and pet his hair, making him flinch back and growl with every touch.
“They sent a feisty one this time. I must say, your friend was easier to handle.”
“My friend?”
“Yes, your friend. He came to us a fortnight ago, climbed the walls just like you did and failed to kill me”, you pause to study his features.
He doesn’t look at you, grinding his teeth with a clenched jaw.
“He was far more loquacious than you. Said his name was Seokjin and that his brothers wouldn’t stop trying until I am finally dead.”
You could watch how he tenses up at the mention of his friend’s name. So your assumptions were right, the Ravens of the Black Forest are finally making their moves again. They were a group of men, hiding out in the deepest corners of the Black Forest. They despised you for being a woman and for being the one in control. You did understand them, men on this earth were treated poorly by many of your fellow women, but their hatred still offended you. You made sure that men in your lands were treated fairly and as equals, not as lesser beings made to be a woman's ragdoll. But these men, these angry, misunderstood men wanted you dead nonetheless. It had been years until their last attacks before they started again last month.
“Why is Rafkan attacking us again?” you ask, spreading healing creams on his wounds, “tell me stranger, what is his motivation?”
He scoffs and turns his head away. He only reacts when you reach the cut on his stomach, sucking in air through his teeth at the cold sensation. You soothe him with a quiet “hush it’s good for you” and a soft pat to his stomach. It makes him tense up to the point that his muscles shake.   
“Is it gold that he wants?” you begin, placing the bowl of ointment on your table, “perhaps food? Or medicine?” you ask, eyes flitting up to meet his’.
His expression stays stone cold. He doesn’t want to talk. You begin placing clean bandages on his cuts, making him tense up. It is peculiar how he is still fighting your kindness when you are so gentle with him. You place the bandages on his cuts with uttermost care and smooth over them as cautiously as you could and he was still fighting you, hissing in anger and sending you dark looks.
“Clearly he wants something”, you say, finishing the last touches.  
“He doesn’t, he just wants you witches dead.”
“How you talk disappoints me. I am no witch, I already told you so.”
He scoffs, “sure.”
You furrow your brows and take a deep breath. This one is a lot more stubborn than his friend was. You can see it in his eyes, it won’t be an easy task to gain his trust.
“You know, your friend was the same as you. Stubborn and filled with anger. Until he realised that he had nothing to fear here.”
“I’m not scared of you”, he spits.
“Of course you aren’t, but wouldn’t it be much easier for both of us if you started to talk?”
He laughs dryly, shaking his head.
“I see, you don’t think that way. Fine, then I must convince you otherwise.”
His head snaps up at your words, eyes filled with fear even though he clearly doesn’t want you to know that he was scared. He knew it. He knew that you would sooner or later retort to torturing him. Just like Rafkan told him, the witches of the Night Queendom were evil, sadistic monsters. He watches you as you slither through the room like the poisonous snake you are. He is sure that underneath that ebony dress your scales are hiding and that behind those red painted lips your poisonous fangs were waiting to be used. He watches you as you disappear behind a folding screen, using the opportunity of solitude to tug at the ropes again. He grunts, grinding his teeth. No matter how much he fights, how much strength he uses or how angrily he wiggles, the ropes stay closed like iron fingers on his body.
“Fuck”, he presses out quietly, dropping his head. The bandages look weird on his body, almost forbidden. He hates to admit it, but whatever you did to him is working. Ever since your warrior cut him open, he felt this everlasting ache on his stomach. It is finally gone. He doesn’t feel anything other than the prickling sensation of whatever ointment you put on him and that sensation wasn’t painful, it was as a matter of fact pleasant and he hated it. He hated it because he never wanted to connect good sensations with your kind.
“So, now let’s see”, your voice makes him raise his head again.
You are back, strutting to him with a tray in your hands. His heart is racing unbearably fast in his chest. This is it. He only heard nightmare stories of your people’s cruelty and now he will experience it on his own body. You set the tray down on the table beside him and pull a chair close to him to sit down on it. He eyes the tray, wondering to himself why the tools looked like cutlery.
You reach for an iron jug, pouring translucent liquid into a mug. You guide the mug to his lips, touching them with the cold edge.
“Drink.”
He shakes his head, pressing his lips closed as good as possible.
“You must be thirsty, drink.”
He turns away.
“It will do you good.”
He shakes his head no and eyes the drink with panic in his eyes.
“Here, look”, you say and take a big sip, “it is water from our fountains. It is clean and tastes fresh, you have nothing to fear.”
“No.”
“Don’t be stubborn, you need water to live.”
“I don’t need your water, witch.”
“You must stop calling me a witch when I am merely trying to help you.”
“Help me? It would help me far more if you just slid my throat instead of poisoning me slowly.”
You sit back on your chair, tilting your head to the side in confusion.
“Poison you?” you laugh loudly.
It angers him to hear you laughing at his words. He tugs at the ropes and growls, hoping that the surge of anger gives him enough strength to break through. It doesn’t.
“I am not intending to poison you stranger, so come don’t be stubborn and accept the water”, you say, placing the mug against his lips again.
He breathes quickly, it smells like nothing. Only the iron mug gives off a faint scent. You tilt the mug, making the water touch his lips. He presses his eyes shut at the cold sensation, waiting for the unbearable burn of the poison. It doesn’t come, as a matter of fact, nothing happens other than that his skin feels wet all of a sudden.
“Drink.”
He locks eyes with you and finally parts his lips. The liquid feels cold on his tongue, coating his terribly dry mouth. He swallows, grunting when his throat finally stops aching in thirst. You were right. It tastes clean and fresh and so, so cold. He hates how good it felt and how hungrily he began drinking it.
“There we go. That’s better. You must have been really thirsty. I apologize that I kept you waiting for so long, but I needed to weaken you a little before I could talk to you.”
The water runs down his chin and trips down on his chest. You wipe it off with your hand.
“Don’t worry, you won’t return to your cell again. Unless of course, you decide to misbehave.”
He breaks away from the mug and swallows the last bit of the water.
“Just throw me in there again, I won’t talk”, his voice comes out easier now that his throat wasn’t so dry anymore.
“Oh trust me, I know that you won’t talk tonight. That is why I brought this”, you say and open an iron cloche.
He had expected to be met with torture devices, but instead freshly cooked food was looking back at him. Meat and potatoes, garnished with a red sauce. His stomach rumbles on instinct, so loudly that you could hear it as well.
“I can hear that you are hungry. So eat as much as you desire.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You think it is poisoned, don’t you?”
His silence is answer enough for you.
You sigh and cut off a piece of meat and potato so you could eat them in front of his eyes. You chew and swallow.
“See? It is not poisoned.”
He eyes it, swallowing down the saliva in his mouth.
“I’m not hungry.”
You cut off a piece and guide it to his lips.
“Eat.”
He locks eyes with you, opens his mouth and lets you place the food inside.
“There you go, that’s-“, your voice cuts off as he spits it back out again right at your face. You gasp and touch the spot it had touched.
“I don’t need your food witch”, he spits.
“I am trying to help you. How dare you spit at me”, you hiss.
“Be glad I am bound to this chair because if I wasn’t, I’d do things far worse to you.”
You place the fork down and sigh.
“You disappoint me stranger, I thought you would know better than this. Valkeria! Auralia!”
The door opens.
“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
“Take him back to his cell. He hasn’t learned his lesson yet.”
“I’ll kill you. You hear me?” he growls, fighting against your warriors' grasps.
“And gag him again, he is oh so noisy”, you order, locking eyes with him. Your warriors are stuffing a rag into his mouth, doing with little concern for his wellbeing. He grunts and whimpers, fighting against the feeling but losing miserably.
“I told you not to misbehave, this is all on you”, you tell him coldly, “now take him away, I don’t want to see him anymore.”
His screams are muffled and unintelligible, but you know that he is screaming curses at you.
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He had been sleeping before. It wasn’t really sleeping if he was being honest, the rag in his mouth and the ropes around his hands prevented him from feeling comfortable. Not that he found any kind of comfort in the cold, wet prison cell her warriors threw him in after he spat at her face last night. Or was it two nights ago? Perhaps even three nights? He doesn’t quite know as the only source of light was the measly torch outside his cell. But he knew that it was time for him to leave his cell again. It was being opened and two warriors stepped through the threshold.
“Wake up birdie”, one of them tells him and kicks his side.
He groans and writhes away, trying to sit up but failing miserably.
“Stop that Valkeria.”
“Why? She just told us to bring him to Her, she never spoke of treating him gently.”
“Yes, but kicking him awake won’t do you any good.”
"Yes it will, it's fun", she says and kicks him again. 
He could feel the pain in his entire body. It leaves a dull thumping sensation behind. 
"Stop that!" 
The other, and nicer, warrior squats down before him and places her hands on his shoulders so she could help him sit up. He does so with a groan, everything inside of him ached.
“I apologize for my friend’s behaviour. She doesn’t know what she is doing. The Queen sent for you again, you will leave your cell tonight”, she spoke with a calm and gentle voice.
She helps him to his feet and supports him by his arm.
“Come now, walk.”
He stumbles and tries to walk. He regrets not taking any of the Queen's food. He thought that he couldn’t feel any worse, but he does. He feels close to death. The colours around him looked washed out and pale, the world seemed blurry and distorted and his legs felt like two pieces of iron. He stumbles up the steps, the warrior pulls him back up easily.
“See? That is what you get when you refuse Her food”, she says with disappointment lacing her voice.
She was right in a way. He should have at least eaten the potato, then he wouldn’t be in so much pain. Perhaps then he would also have enough strength to push her down the stairs and run for his life. Perhaps if he ate that potato he would have already been able to flee.
He stumbles again, being held up by the warrior’s strong grasp.
“It’s not far anymore, hold on for a little longer.”
“Why are you so nice to him Auralia? He doesn’t deserve our kindness”, the first, and sadistic, warriors spits and a second later he feels his hair get twisted painfully.
“Walk.”
He groans and stumbles, hitting his shins and toes way too many times as she pulls him up the stairs by his hair.
“Valkeria stop that!”
She stops tugging at his hair but only because they have reached the Queens chambers and she needs to knock. He is crying by now. Not actually, physically crying because he feels sad but out of his eyes tears are spilling from the discomfort of his hair being tugged. And then she tugs at his hair again, making him stumble into the Queens chambers.
He would have fallen on his face if you hadn’t caught his body before that, now he is lying in your arms, face buried in your chest.
“Valkeria! If I see you abuse him one more time, you will be the one being fed to Woltron”, you spit angrily.
“It is not my fault he is too stupid to walk”, Valkeria answers, shrugging her shoulders.
You click your tongue, “leave for the night and tell Yeri to take your place instead.”
“My Queen?”
“You need to take control of your emotions Valkeria.”
“Yes my Queen. I understand my Queen”, she mumbles and bows her head.
The door closes then and he feels his body being straightened up.
“Good evening stranger”, you greet him with an apologetic smile, “I apologize for Valkeria’s behaviour, you must know she has good reasons to hate your people.”
He furrows his brows in confusion.
“Your friend, Seokjin, he killed one of my warriors before he fled back to you. Ymir was her name and she was Valkeria’s wife.”
He lowers his eyes in shame. 
“But for now let’s take off this gag shall we?”
He gasps for air the moment the rag is out of his mouth, licking over his lips repeatedly. The soaked rag lands on the floor with a low thump.
“I felt awful having to gag you for days, but you spat at my face, it was only the right thing to do.”
He scoffs, wiping his mouth with his tied hands. The corners of his mouth ache terribly, they also feel hot when he licks over them, he must have inflamed them from the rag constantly rubbing against them.
“Don’t worry, they are only a little reddened. It’s nothing a few days of rest can’t fix”, you assure him, “but now, come follow me. I need to clean you.”
You tug at his arms. He is too weak to fight back, stumbling after you.
“Where are we going?” he asks weakly, eyeing the chair he had been tied to before.
“The bathing room. You stink.”
You lead him past a wall of thick curtains into a small, windowless room. Dozens of candles were lit and in the middle of the room an iron tub was standing, filled with warm water. It smelled of lavender and chamomile in the room.
You stand him next to the tub and reach for a pair of sharp scissors. He eyes them.
“Stay away”, he warns.
“Stay calm, I won’t hurt you.”
You move closer, he stumbles back until the back of his knees hit the tub. It makes him hiss at the sudden warm sensation on his skin.
“What, what are you doing?”
“I am undressing you.”
“No, don’t touch my clothes.”
“I prepared new clothes for you. Worry not, they are still black”, you tell him and cut open the right sleeve of his blouse. Next the left sleeve, it rips easily. He wiggles with his upper body in an attempt to fight you off.
“Stay still”, you pull at the ropes, “I don’t want to cut you on accident.”
He stays still but only because the scissors were terribly close to his crotch. He raises his head and looks up at the ceiling. Rafkan was right, the witches of the Night Queendom were sadistic monsters and now the leader of them all was stealing him of the only thing still keeping him connected to his brothers. He wonders if next she tries to give him a new name or worse burn off his tattoo. That’s what those witches do, they steal your identity until you have forgotten who you were, that is what Rafkan told him. And that is why Seokjin has never returned to him and his brothers. He knows that you were lying. Seokjin probably never left the castle’s walls, perhaps he became dinner for the wolves or Valkeria killed him when you weren’t looking or maybe he was living among them, thinking that he was someone else. Seokjin would never willingly stay away from his brothers, something must have happened to him.
You cut off the last thread keeping his pants together and pull the destroyed fabric from his legs. You stand up again and watch his face. He stares at you with angry precision, jaw tensed and eyes burning in hatred. His tied hands are covering him, muscles flexed in the desire to bash your head in.
"Let’s get you in the water, shall we?”
He lets you help him step in the bathtub, but only because you kept his hands still tied. It is warm on his skin, he had already forgotten how warmth feels like or how baths felt like for that matter. It must have been years since his last bath. Rafkan doesn’t really let them take baths because baths were reserved for witches, so he said.
“There we go”, you say, supporting him as he sits down.
The water reaches him to his chest just a little under where his tattoo ends. The smell of lavender and chamomile is even stronger in the bathtub, making him dizzy.
“Now lean back and relax, I will get your soaps.”
He stares at you angrily, leaning back against the bathtub. He may seem like he is relaxing, but he isn’t, every fibre in his body is tensed. He watches you as you turn your back to him and begin sorting through something on the little table next to the tub. He wonders if he could strangle you, he would only need to act quickly enough. Jump to his feet and out of the bath and use the ropes around his wrists to strangle you instead. Or perhaps if he is even quicker he could steal the scissors from the table and carve a new hole into your ribcage. He sits up and pushes himself up.
“There we go”, you turn around, making him fall back against the tub, “I have everything I need. You must know our soap makers create masterpieces, you will feel so clean afterwards.”
You place the bar of soap on the edge of the tub and fill an iron bowl with water. Then you go behind him, making him crane his neck.
“Keep looking forward”, you tell him, turning his head back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Hush, you will thank me.”
“No don’t-“, a gasp interrupts him as you pour water over his head. He grunts with his eyes closed, mouth opening and closing repeatedly and shoulders heaving up and down. You pour more water over his head, making him hold his breath. A third time and then you finally place the bowl on the floor and reach for the soap. He sends you a deathly glare over his shoulder. You merely give him an apologetic smile and turn his head to the front again. He grunts, frowning.
“If my body wasn’t so weak I would kill you”, he growls, “I would drown you in this bathtub right here and now.”
“Yes?” you say and begin rubbing the soap into his scalp.
“Yes. Or maybe I would bash your head in with the corner of the tub and watch your rotten brains spill out.”
“That sounds gruesome”, you say, running your nails over his scalp gently. You watch goosebumps form on his shoulders and neck.
“And then I, I would dig your rotten heart out of your chest with the scissors.”
“Really?” you pay special attention to the nape of his neck, massaging the soap into his hair thoroughly.
“And, and then I would strangle you and, and…and…” he drifts off, body relaxing just slightly.
“That sounds like a thorough plan. So why not do it?” you ask, running your fingers over the crown of his head repeatedly.
“Because you tied my hands”, he answers you.
“I thought the Ravens were taught to fight with their hands tied so that they would never be handicapped in a fight.”
You brush his hair out of his face, making sure to caress his forehead with relaxing touches. The movements make his head tilt back just enough that you could watch his eyelids flutter. You keep watching them, massaging the front of his head in circular motions.
“That is a lie”, he presses out, forcing his lips closed so they wouldn’t part in relaxation.
“It is? I apologize then, it seems I was misinformed.”
You tilt his head back to the front and get the bowl.
“Close your eyes, I need to wash the soap out.”
He hates that he closes his eyes and that he waits for the water with held breath and he hates it even more that he feels disappointed that you have already finished washing his hair. If his brothers would see him right now they would beat him with sticks until he wasn’t moving anymore. He is betraying them, with every second he sits in this tub and allows you to wash him he is betraying them.
“There we go”, you place the bowl down, “the worst is gone, now I will make sure it is thoroughly cleaned.”
He tenses up when he feels your fingers in his hair again, rubbing soothing circles on his scalp. He hates that he doesn’t hate it. Your fingers draw circles on his scalp, tugging on his hair softly with every movement. He sighs and closes his eyes. Somewhere far away he remembers the sensation. He can’t place the location or person to said sensation, but he knows that sometime in his life he had experienced it before. He squeezes his eyes shut further to stop the brickling of tears. Why does he like this so much?
“Now tell me something else. I heard the Ravens are all orphans and that Rafkan was the one who saved you. Is that also a lie?”
He growls and turns, pushing himself out of the tub. The mention of his leader clearly angered him. You push him back down, “stay I’m not finished with you.”
“I hate you”, he spits, writhing away, “don’t touch me witch.”
Now he realises what had happened, why he enjoyed this moment so much. It was black magic again. You bewitched him and made him believe that he enjoyed your touches. It was all a scheme to get him to talk and spill the secrets of his people.
“I am no witch”, you hiss and press him down harshly, “now stay and let me wash you.”
He wiggles, making the water splash over the edge of the tub.
“Keep still.”
He fights more, almost making you fall into the water with him.
Slap.
He gasps and stops fighting. You just slapped his cheek with the back of your hand. It wasn’t hard or painful, just a mere nudge, but it surprised him nonetheless.
“See? Now I slapped you on accident. That is what you get from wiggling so much.”
He looks over his shoulder to send you a deathly glare. You smile and connect your fingers with his hair.
“I apologize for slapping you, I hope it didn’t hurt.”
He scoffs.
“I take this as a no”, you say and massage his scalp so well that he can’t help but shiver on instinct, “I merely want to help you stranger.”
He turns to the front and clenches his jaw. It angers him how weak his body feels. Just those short moments of struggle drained him to the point that his eyes feel droopy. He couldn’t fight you any more, even if he tried. He just has to sit here and allow you to wash his hair.
“Tell me stranger, do you have a name? I don’t like calling you stranger.”
He stays silent. You massage the spot behind his ears, watching how he straightens up at the sensation and tilts his head back. You keep touching him there. His lips part without him even noticing that they do.
“Or perhaps you have no name”, you wonder.
He doesn’t answer you. Your fingers run through his hair again, making his shoulder raise and sink in a deep breath.
“Worry not, I can give you one.”
He tenses up.
“How about Ragnahr? Or perhaps a longer name. Something strong and mysterious. Something like-“
“Jungkook. My name is Jungkook.”
“Jungkook?”
“Yes.”
“That is a good name. It fits you.”
Jungkook closes his eyes and squeezes his own hands in anger. He wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself for revealing his name to you so easily. All it took was for you to threaten him with a wrong name and he already broke. Rafkan would be so disappointed in him. He should have just let you give him a wrong name. It is not like he is planning on staying here for long. Once he has eaten and rested and has regained his strength he will finally fulfill his task of killing you. He should have stayed unknown, should have taken on a wrong name and lived under an alias until his destiny was fulfilled.
You twist his hair softly, gathering it up at the top of his head to really rub the soap into his scalp. He can hear your movements and feel them all the way down to his toes. It makes them curl and his eyelids flutter. He allows them to fall closed because deep down he knew he couldn’t fight this exhaustion for long anymore. 
He begins thinking again. There must have been something stopping him from living under an alias. Something inside of him that told his tongue to speak the truth because living in a lie would have been torture too big. Perhaps it was that everlasting emptiness in his heart, which was present ever since he was five and ripped away from his parent’s dead arms by a masked stranger. Perhaps it was this hollow unknowing he always had to carry around with him that told him that losing even more of his identity would end in his ruin.
“My name is ___, you can call me this instead of always calling me a witch”, you say, running your fingers along his temples. You could feel that he carried a lot of pain in that area, it was written all over his features and was present in the way he tensed at your touch.
“Why would I call you this when you are nothing but a witch?” he hisses, but the slight shake in his voice made him sound a lot less angry.
“Because you think wrongly of me. I am no witch, I am a simple woman with no magical abilities.”
“Lies. You and your people are witches.”
“Is that what Rafkan told you?”
He closes his mouth and stays silent.
“Of course he did”, you sigh, “Rafkan doesn’t know everything about this world.”
“Yes he does and he told me that you would say such things. That you would use sweet words and soft touches to bewitch me until I am your slave.”
“My slave?” you laugh loudly and for some reason it makes him feel really stupid.
“Don’t laugh”, he spits angrily.
“I must apologize, but that is perhaps the most amusing thing I have ever heard.”
He scoffs, clenching his jaw.
“I don’t keep slaves in my castle. Everyone who is by my side, who works for me or does things for me, does them out of their own free will.”
“I don’t believe you”, he hisses, “I know your true nature. I know about your scales and your poisonous fangs and about the human sacrifices.”
“Human sacrifices?” you laugh, “scales and fangs?” you laugh even more.
“Stop laughing!” he screams in anger.
He just told you that he knows your darkest secrets and you are laughing at him. You are mocking him. It angers him so much that he feels like crying. You are not supposed to laugh, you are supposed to beg him not to tell anyone.
You round him then, carrying amusement in your eyes.
“Tell me Jungkook. Where did Rafkan tell you that I am covered in scales?”
He stays silent but looks at your torso.
“My torso? Oh that’s a clever place. He probably told you that because of them you need to make sure to stab me with all your strength so the knife would pierce them didn’t he?”
He turns his head away and grinds his teeth. You are still mocking him, taking him for a fool. This must be your way of hiding the truth. Make him out to be the idiot while your secrets stay safe. He clenches his jaw, feeling all the tension you massaged away return to his head.
He hears something then, as if fabric had hit the ground. He turns his head, instantly looking away again. You have bared yourself to him. Rafkan told him not to look at your naked body because the scales would hypnotise him. He holds his breath, squeezes his eyes shut and hopes that this would be enough to keep him safe.
“Don’t turn away. Look at me.”
“You can’t trick me witch.”
“I am not tricking you. Look at me.”
“No, I know what this will do to me. I’m no fool.”
“Yes you are. A fool who believes the ramblings of an even bigger fool”, you step closer, “look at me Jungkook.”
“No.”
“Look. At. Me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you will prove to me that you are nothing but a foolish child.”
He isn’t foolish, let alone a child. It angers him that you would even dare to put such words into your mouth. He peels his eyes open, looking at the ground. He can see your legs from the corners of his eyes. They seem normal to him. He takes a deep breath. He needs to be brave now, Rafkan will be so proud of him if he survives.
He turns and holds his breath.
“What?” he gasps, feeling his world crumble.
He blinks in confusion, letting his eyes run over your body almost obsessively exact. There are no scales, not even one. You turn a few times to show him everything. Still nothing, only human skin.
“But…”
“Rafkan lied to you”, you close the distance between you and him and step into the bath.
He tenses up, tries to get away from you. He ends up housing you between his legs, panting at the feeling of your skin against his.
“Just as he lied to you about my fangs”, you say and open your mouth.
He looks at every tooth, feeling like his head might explode. Rafkan told him of big, sharp fangs. He told him that just a touch could kill and that therefore he shouldn’t force your mouth open after he killed you to check for them. There were no fangs in your mouth, not even one.
“No, no he wouldn’t lie.”
“Yes he would. He is a madman, who is obsessed with the idea of making me fall. I am sure that he told you that my people hunt your people for fun, that we find some sick pleasure in hurting men.”
You came closer in the time you spoke, making him press himself against the bathtub.
“Stay away from me.”
You reach for something on the table and Jungkook flinches away as you pull your hand back.
“I don’t want to hurt you”, you say, forcing him to look at you with two fingers under his chin. There is a clean rag in your fingers, “I want to help you.”
You soak the rag, guiding it to his face. He moves back, panting heavily in anger, or maybe it was fear.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you. Your face looks terrible with all the dirt covering it”, you say, dragging the fabric over his chin.
He grunts, watching your hand as it dances up his face to clean his left cheek. His eye closes on instinct as you drag the rag over his skin underneath it. You clean his nose next, up and down the bridge of it until his eyes feel terribly heavy again. This must be your magic again, he feels so tired all of a sudden. You clean his right cheek, doing so a lot more tender because he has a little cut on his cheekbone. It burns just the slightest bit, but not enough to wake him up. Your face blurs in his vision, the colours fade out again as his eyes close more and more.
You wash out the cloth.
“We are almost done, worry not”, you say quietly and support his wobbling head with your hand at the back of it.
“What have you done to me?” he forces out, eyes falling closed.
“Nothing, although I must confess I chose the best sleeping oils for our bath. Their smell is supposed to help you fall asleep.”
“Stop messing with my mind, witch.”
“I’m not and I am no witch.”
You clean his forehead, watching the creases disappear from it. It only lasts a second. He inhales loudly and forces his eyes open again. The warmth of the water, the scent of the flowers, your tender touch and soft body against his’ almost got him. He can’t give up now, not when he had already come so far. Who knows what you would do to him, would he fall asleep. Perhaps you would drown him in this bath, hang his naked body for everyone to see above your castle walls. He can’t allow that to happen.
“Don’t fight it. I know you haven’t rested in days”, you whisper, caressing his cheek with your hand.
He shakes you off and widens his eyes.
“I’m not tired.”
“Yes you are, even now when you are surrounded by warm water, your body is shivering. I can feel it.”
He knows that you were right. He had been shivering uncontrollably ever since you joined him in the bath. He is glad that you think it was because of exhaustion, because in truth he was terribly scared of you. He was scared that this was all just a trick. That Rafkan was right and you were nothing but a snake. Perhaps he failed to mention that you could hide your true nature and you knew that. Perhaps you are using his ignorance to your advantage.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me?” you ask, cleaning his torso with the rag.
“Your scales and fangs, you are hiding them.”
You chuckle, “and you fear that if you close your eyes I would use them on you?”
“I know you are planning something, witch.”
“Yes, I am. I want you to rest tonight.”
Jungkook furrows his brows and watches you. You are cleaning his stomach, using less pressure when your fingers are touching his cut. You are so gentle with him, it is confusing him so much. Why are you gentle and careful with him? Why is your skin not covered in scales? Why does your mouth not carry fangs? And why do you want him to rest as if his wellbeing was of importance to you?
“Why?”
You smile and pat his shoulder, “why not?”
He blinks and shifts his gaze to the water. This all confuses him so terribly much.
“Now, let’s finally wash out that soap and get you to bed”, you say, rising from the bath to leave it and round him. You pour water over his head, making him gasp and grunt at the sensation. You do it a second time and he is holding his breath this time around.
“There we go, now wait here and I will get the towel.”
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He is awake in an instance from the nightmare plaguing his mind. It was the same he always has. A masked man rips him out of the arms of his dead parents. He gasps and sits up, but something holds him back, tugs him down by his wrists until his back collides with the headboard. He groans in pain and surprise, looking around the room only to come face to face with you resting on your knees beside him.
"Good morning", you say, stroking your palm over his stomach, "I just finished treating your cuts, they are healing splendidly." 
"Where am I?" he asks, voice heavy in sleep.
"My bed of course." 
"No. No. What have you done to me?" 
"Nothing, you were just too exhausted to walk to your chambers and so I allowed you to sleep with me." 
He looks down at his body. Black, linen pants were covering his lower body. 
"Yes I put them on. I must say, your legs are quite heavy when you sleep." 
He tries to rub his legs together to see if he was still a man. 
"Don’t worry, I didn’t cut it off and use it as a necklace", you joke. 
He blinks at you with widened eyes. 
"I see you don’t find humor in it", you observe, "worry not, although Rafkan told you about our love for stealing men of their pride, we don’t actually do that, especially because they can bring us a lot of joy as well." 
"What?" he gasps and shakes his head, "no. Stay away." 
"Worry not, I merely intend to take care of your wounds and to feed you of course. 
"Feed me?" 
"Yes, your hands are tied."
He tries to raise them but finds himself unable to do as two ropes keep them on the mattress securely.
“Let me go”, he growls.
“I fear that this is not possible”, you give him an apologetic smile, “you carry too much hatred in your eyes still, I don’t want to risk it.”
“Risk it? What? Do I scare you?” he spits, grinning victoriously.
You study his face. He keeps up the eye contact. You sigh, eyes filling with pity as you let them run over his features. It confuses him again, maybe makes him even feel nervous. He clears his throat, feeling his gaze falter.
“You don’t scare me. I pity you.”
“Pity?” he scoffs and laughs, “if you feel so terrible for what you do to me then free me.”
“You misunderstand me. I don’t feel bad for what I do to you. I feel bad for what he did to you.”
Rafkan was right, the witches are confusing creatures, speaking in riddles and madness. He doesn’t understand a thing you are saying.
“How old were you when they came for you?”
“I, I don’t know what you are saying.”
“You called out for your parents as you slept. More than once.”
He turns his head away, looks to the side. This is not good, now you know his darkest secret and can use it against him.
“I figure you must have been nothing but a child. You must have been. This would have given him enough time to twist his way into your mind.”
He doesn’t understand. It angers him so much to feel so stupid and ignorant in your presence.
“What are you talking about?” and so he screams at you, tugging at the ropes with all he got.
You don’t flinch back, you simply sigh in sadness and reach out to cup his cheek.
He flinches away, skin burning where you are touching him.
“Rafkan doesn’t speak everything out loud, Jungkook”, you whisper.
“I, I don’t understand”, he chokes out, feeling close to tears in desperation. You are confusing him so much.
“You can’t, but give it some time. You will understand one day.”
“Tell me.”
“Not today”, you give him a smile, “for now, you need to eat, gain back your strength and nourish your body.”
You turn to your side then and reach for a grape, which had been resting on a plate on the mattress.
"I picked out the sweetest kind", you say, guiding it to his lips.
He eyes the grape, breathing heavily.
“Open up.”
He shakes his head.
“I didn’t poison it.”
“Stay, stay away from me.”
“Fine”, you give up and eat the grape yourself, “perhaps you want some cheese instead?”
You offer him a piece of finely cut cheese on a slice of bread, it is rolled up so it looks like a flower.
“No.”
“You haven’t eaten in a week, don’t be foolish. You need the food.”
“I don’t need your food. I need answers.”
“They will come eventually.”
“I want them now.”
You furrow your brows, eyes darkening. It makes him swallow. You scoot closer, sitting down on his lap. He squeezes his eyes shut, head hitting the edge of the headrest as he moves away. He went too far and now he will finally feel the cruelty of the witches, Rafkan always spoke of. But it doesn’t come, instead you cup his cheek and make him look at you.
“Eat”, you whisper, touching his lips with the bread.
It smells so good that it makes his mouth water. Oh heavens, he is so hungry. He swallows and gawks at the bread.
“Eat, it will do you good”, you tell him.
He shakes his head.
“You can trust me.”
For the briefest of moments he looked into your eyes, meeting nothing but the purest honesty in them. Can he really trust you? Is this really just food? You encourage him with a nod of your head and a soft smile, caressing his cheekbone softly.
You brush your thumb over his lips, making them prickle at the sensation.
“Eat”, you breathe, putting soft pressure on his lips.
He exhales shakily and lets you open his mouth, gasping quietly when you replace your thumb with the bread. You press his jaw closed the moment the food rests on his tongue. He knows you are only doing so, so that he can’t spit it out again.
“Now chew”, you order him, keeping a tight grip on him.
He chews, keeping his eyes locked on your face. You stare at his lips, watching him chew with a sort of pride in your eyes. He swallows, feeling the bread against his lips in an instance.
“Again.”
He bites off a piece and chews with the help of you. He hates how helpless you made him, not because it embarrasses him, no for a weird reason it doesn’t embarrass him, but because he gave in so easily once again. First his name and now he lets you feed him. His brothers would be so disappointed in him. Is that how Seokjin felt too? Did you do the same things to him as you do right now?
“Again.”
He opens his mouth and lets you stuff it with bread and later force his jaw closed. He hadn’t even intended on spitting on you this morning. He was feeling too hungry for that and as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that he needs the food. If he had refused it again and you threw him into his cell for yet another three days, he feared that the hunger might have killed him.
“Again. Last bite.”
Your fingers aren’t as tight on his jaw as they were before. Perhaps you already trust him a little more.
He swallows, your fingers fall from his face.
“Perfect. Now”, you reach to the plate, “you must try a grape.”
“Why?”
“Because they taste lovely to cheese”, you explain, guiding it to his lips.
“No.”
“Oh heavens, will you eat? How are you intending to gain back your strength if you keep refusing the food I prepared for you?”
He lowers his eyes and licks over his lips. You were right. He sighs, opens his mouth and takes in the grape. You had wanted to reach for his jaw again but he moved away faster, looking at you with dark eyes. It makes you smile.
“See? It wasn’t that hard.”
You reach for another piece of bread and some grapes.
“Here, have more. You must try it together, it will change the way you look at food.”
You were right. Again. It tasted really good. He liked it, it made his tongue prickle and his chest feel warm. Rafkan doesn’t really allow them to eat good food, just things to keep the body strong. Good food is reserved for witches who gain pleasure out of it, so he always said. Jungkook kind of liked the good food a lot more than the one Rafkan gave him.
“And? Do you enjoy it?” you ask.
He swallows and clenches his jaw.
“What are you doing to me?” he hisses. There must have been something in this food. Maybe not poison, but something magical. Something that forces him to find this moment so not at all horrible.
You laugh softly and tilt your head to the side, eyes filling with warmth.
“Nothing”, you say, “I’m just feeding you.”
“Did you enchant it?”
You eye the food between your fingers.
“Do you enjoy it that much?”
He looks to the side, hoping that you can’t see the blush on his cheeks.
“You do”, you caress his shoulder and scoot up his lap, “that is wonderful to hear. Here, take more until you feel like your hunger has vanished.”
Jungkook eats a lot this morning and he hates that he enjoys every second of it.
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He was in his chambers, staring at the walls as he always did this past week, when a knock made his head turn.
“What?” he asks coldly, watching the door open and three people enter his room.
Two witches and a man. It surprises him. He saw men on her castle grounds, but this is the first time he is meeting one up close.
“Good morning Sire, I hope you rested well.”
Jungkook scoffs and turns back to the wall.
“I’m not a Sire.”
“Well, Our Majesty told me to treat you with the highest respect, so I am going to address you as Sire today…Sire.”
Jungkook sneaks a glance at him and the masses of fabrics the two witches were carrying.
“What are you doing here anyway?” he asks.
“Dressmaking.”
“Dressmaking?” he asks, cocking his right eyebrow up.
“You see Sire, my name is Bartholomew and I am a dressmaker.”
“Dressmaker?”
“Tailor, Sire. I am a tailor.”
“Ah I understand….and why are you in my room?”
“To measure you of course.”
“Measure me?”
“You are a man of many questions Sire”, he mumbles and fixes the buttons on his coat, “you see, Our Majesty let me know that she had to destroy your clothes to…well, bathe you properly. And I am here to remake them in your image.”
He snorts and chuckles.
“She wants to dress me? What? I’m her puppet now?”
The tailor clears his throat and looks at his two assistants. It seems that his words had flustered him greatly.
“No…of course not Sire. She merely wanted to give you a part of your identity back.”
Jungkook faltered. What tricks is she playing now? If she really wanted to give him a part of his identity back she would have let him run two weeks ago, not lock him up in a windowless room and only take him outside for walks where his wrists were tied together. There were of course all those countless warm baths she shared with him and the many dinners he had to take with her. She allowed him to eat on his own most nights. She currently doesn’t allow him to eat on his own however, Jungkook has himself to blame for that as he had tried to stab her eyes with a butter knife last night.
That is why her generosity confuses him greatly, no it doesn’t confuse him, it leaves him suspicious. He almost blinded her last night and now she wants to give him presents?
“Why would she want that?”
“Because she felt gracious this morning.”
“I don’t understand. I almost blinded her last night.”
The tailor nods.
“She told me that you would say that Sire and I can tell you that she is more forgiving than you think she is.”
Jungkook grinds his teeth. He thought that a man would understand him better, but it seems that his mind had been poisoned by the witches as well. The tailor claps into his hands then.
“Now! Let us get started. I have a lot of work to do.”
His two assistants place the heaps of fabric on his bed and pull Jungkook to his feet.
“Don’t touch me, let go of me”, he growls, fighting against them.
They show no struggle, leading him to the tailor with ease.
Jungkook grunts and wobbles on the steps they put him on, staring down at the man with dark eyes.
“I swear to god if you even as much as dare to touch me I will rip your head off”, he warns.
“Very threatening indeed”, the tailor mumbles mindlessly, squatting down to begin measuring Jungkook’s legs.
He watches him work, considering for a moment if he should kick him in the face and use the moment of chaos to escape. The tailor's two assistants begin circling him before he can, holding up different kinds of fabrics against his face.
“Don’t touch me”, he hisses, moving his head away.
“They won’t touch you, Sire. They merely want to figure out your perfect colours.”
“My perfect colours? I’m not a witch, I don’t need colours”, he spits.
“Everybody needs a little colour in their life, Sire. Especially in a land where the nights are so long”, the tailor mumbles, “now spread your legs.”
“No.”
The tailor forces them open.
“I said no”, he spits, closing them again.
“Sire”, the tailor forces them apart again, “stay still. I can’t measure them otherwise.”
Jungkook clenches his jaw, watching the tailor wrap the measuring tape around his thigh. He feels fabric against his cheek and as he turns his head one of the assistants is holding up a rosé coloured fabric. She looks into his eyes, squinting her own as she studies him.
“That colour looks nice with your eyes, Sire”, she lets him know, handing the fabric over to her colleague, “put this on the pile to take.”
“No. I don’t want colour. I want black”, Jungkook spits, lowering his eyes in anger.
She clicks her tongue in distaste, “but Sire this-“
“I want black or else I will use this stupid fabric to hang you from the ceiling.”
Something pinches him on his inner thigh.
“Ah”, he gasps, looking down at the tailor, “did you just poke me with a needle?”
The tailor ignores him. He did poke him with a needle, doing so as a punishment for the way Jungkook talked to his assistants, but he won’t let him know that.
“Strong thighs. You were running a lot weren’t you?” he says instead.
“I could outrun all of you if that is what you are asking.”
“I am positive that you could, Sire.”
The tailor straightens up and wraps the measuring tape around Jungkook’s hips. He tenses at the touch.
“Stay away.”
“Do you want it to pinch your manhood Sire or do you want it to be comfortable?”
Jungkook closes his mouth and stops fighting.
“As I thought, now let me measure you.”
He allows him with a clenched jaw, watching the tailor’s assistants instead. They are discussing the different pieces of black fabric, comparing them to each other as if there was any difference between them. They were all the same to him.
“You seem to be in good shape, Sire. Our Majesty can count herself lucky.”
“Excuse me?” Jungkook's voice pitched in surprise about the bluntness of the tailor.
“Keep your arms stretched out, Sire”, he says, putting Jungkook’s arms in the desired position.
He allowed him, too shocked had made him his words.
“What did you mean by that?” he stresses.
“Are you not her lover, Sire? The castle watched you enter her chambers each night and leave it hours later with your cheeks tainted red.”
“That’s – “, Jungkook falls silent for he is far too shocked to come up with an answer.
He would never. Never. Never. To even think about it...let alone do. Never. Just, never.
“-not mine to ask. You must forgive me Sire, I shouldn’t have asked.”
Jungkook scoffs and looks away, meeting the assistants’ curious gazes. They are studying him, looking at him as if he allowed them to do so.
“What?” he spits, making them flinch and giggle, “stop laughing.”
“Now, now. Don’t be too harsh on them, Sire. Everyone in the castle is excited about the news. You must know, Our Majesty usually doesn’t keep male guests, so we are all excited that she chose such a handsome, strong man to be by her side.”
“I’m not by her side”, he squeaks, “I’m her prisoner.”
They all giggle.
“I see Sire, her prisoner.”
“Why did you say this so weirdly?”
The tailor grins boyishly and winks at him.
“That is – no, just no. How dare you even think of that. This is outrageous, I – no.”
 The assistants giggle again.
“Stop laughing!”
They don’t listen, whispering and giggling to each other as they begin comparing fabrics again. The tailor moves on to measure Jungkook’s chest.
“I’m her prisoner, I mean it. She is keeping me against my will”, he stresses, whispering the words to the tailor, “shouldn’t you be on my side?”
“And why should I?”
“Because you and I are the same. We should stick together.”
“You and I are not the same Sire, believe me.”
“Can’t you see that they have cursed you?”
“Cursed me?” the tailor laughs, “this is utter nonsense.”
“It isn’t and you know that it isn’t. What did they do to you? Did they torture you?”
“No Sire, I am a simple dressmaker, nothing more.”
“Help me, please.”
“Help you? With what?”
“Escaping.”
“Why do you want to escape Sire? Is Our Majesty not treating you well?”
“No, she is a monster.”
“A monster?” the tailor asks and chuckles, “how ridiculous.”
“I am serious. They are all witches here. All of them and you are nothing but their puppet.”
At that the tailor stops working.
“Now I must forget my manners for a second. Stop calling them witches, they aren’t witches. They have names and feelings and they care a fuck more about you than Rafkan ever did.”
“Excuse me?” Jungkook gasps. Where did that man’s manners go?
The tailor hooks his fingers in Jungkook’s shirt collar and rips it open. Jungkook had no time to react, left gawking at the tailor with widened eyes. His tattoo is on complete display for the tailor and his assistants, they stare at it with pitiful eyes.
“The Ravens of the Black Forest sent you.”
Jungkook covers his tattoo quickly, fumbling with his shirt in hopes of repairing it.
“And if they did? You know going against me will end in your deaths.”
“I know, Jungkook.”
“How, how do you know my name?”
The tailor unbuttons his coat and pulls it open, revealing a black raven tattoo on his chest.
“What?”
“I was one of you once. A Raven, filled with hatred for the women you call witches and with my mind poisoned in lies. You probably don’t remember me, you were with the Ravens for a little over five months when Rafkan sent me away to kill the Queen’s mother.”
Jungkook jumps from the steps, grabbing the tailor by his throat.
“You traitor. I’ll bash your head in”, he spits, pushing him against a wall.
The assistants wanted to help, but the tailor stops them with a raise of his hand. Jungkook can feel their scared eyes on the back of his head.
“I’m not your enemy Jungkook.”
“Yes you are. You betrayed our people.”
“Our people are here. The blacksmith? Left the Ravens five years ago. The warrior whose left eye always twitches? Left the Ravens after Rafkan hurt said eye in a fit of rage. The three philosophers you always see talking in the gardens? Ravens, who saw that life wasn’t about killing but learning. We weren’t killed by the Queen, we were saved.”
“Liar”, Jungkook growls, pressing him closer to the wall, "she kills people, I know she does."
“I’m not lying”, the tailor insists.
“She cursed you.”
“She didn’t.”
The tailor breaks Jungkook’s fingers away from his throat, lowering them. Jungkook lets him, feeling too weak to fight back. He was dizzy in confusion. This all didn’t make sense to him. 
“I was a little older than you are now when I left the Ravens”, the tailor begins, closing his coat as he speaks, “I climbed the walls and wanted to slit her throat. Just like Rafkan told me to do. I got captured and at first I was going mad at the idea of killing everyone in this castle. That is until I realised that I had never lived in such comfort before than I did here.”
“We are not meant to live in comfort. That is reserved for witches.”
“How naïve can you be, child?” the tailor spits, “we are not destined to live in the cold, wet darkness of the Black Forest and under the hand of a madman. We deserve a warm, comfortable home.”
“No”, he shakes his head, “no we do not.”
“Yes we do”, the tailor steps closer, taking Jungkook’s face between his hands, “tell me Jungkook have you ever slept as well in the Black Forest as you do here? Have you dined that well? Did you smell that good? Or even felt that safe?”
Jungkook falters, “n-no, but – “
“But what? Do you really think you are destined to die from the Black Forest’s toxic fumes or under the sharp teeth of one of the many monsters living in it?”
“That’s, that is why we train.”
“But we don’t have to. You don’t have to. Here, you don’t have to live each day thinking it is your last.”
“No”, Jungkook shakes him off, “no, I don’t believe you. She cursed you, I’m sure she did.”
“Then tell me Jungkook. Do you feel cursed ever since you came here or do you still feel like yourself?”
“Like….like…” Jungkook swallows, pushing his hair back nervously, “I don’t know. Don’t ask me that, I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
Jungkook shakes his head.
“Tell me Jungkook.”
“I can’t, I don’t know.”
“You do. Tell me!”
“No!”
“Tell. Me.”
“I feel like myself and I feel a lot damn better than I did in the past!”
The tailor smiles, features softening.
“You see? It wasn’t that hard to admit.”
“Yes it was”, Jungkook chokes out and sinks down on the bed, burying his face in his hands.
All those Ravens Rafkan told him about, all those Ravens he said were killed painfully, actually found a new life here? They aren’t dead. They are alive, protected and taken care of. And...and he could have this too? No more cold, sleepless nights? No more endless days of hunger when hunting was bad? No more aching limbs and burning lungs? He could have this too. He could have a comfortable home. 
“I’m scared Bartholomew.”
“Scared of what?”
“What Rafkan will think of me once he finds out.”
Bartholomew sits down next to Jungkook and pats his back.
“Well, luckily for you. Rafkan can’t reach you here”, he says softly.
Jungkook exhales shakily and raises his head. He can’t reach him here. He can’t hurt him here. Jungkook exhales shakily. He can’t hurt him here.
Jungkook turns, staring at the fabrics behind him.
“Can I…look at them?” he asks quietly.
Bartholomew exchanges a proud look with his assistants, squeezing Jungkook’s shoulder brotherly.
“Of course you can Sire, look at all of them and pick out the ones you like the most. I will do the rest.”
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You are holding a banquet for guests from far away countries. The princess of the Sand Queendom and her husband came with their closest friends. The powerful Sorceresses of the Ruby Hills came, bearing gifts of gemstones and healing oils. Even then Huntresses of the Snow Wall with their black horses and long braided hair came to celebrate with the people of the Night Queendom. He was your guest, the man by your side in fine silks but with chains around his ankles hidden underneath the tablecloth. He hated the evening at first, but then you fed him delicious food and ran your fingers through his hair and he didn’t quite hate the evening as much anymore. He just hated that he didn’t hate your tenderness and worse that he craved it whenever you paid attention to someone else. He especially hated himself when he felt jealousy in his stomach as he watched you dance with another man, laughing at his jokes and holding his hand.
He stands up from his chair, feeling Valkeria’s iron grip on his shoulder in an instance.
“Stay birdie”, she hisses.
He looks up at her with dark eyes.
“I want to dance with her.”
“You want to dance?” she laughs tauntingly, “and make a fool of yourself?”
She shakes her head and looks at Yeri and Auralia with amusement in her eyes. She slaps the back of his head so hard that he hears ringing in his ears for a few minutes.
“Just stay seated and spare yourself of the embarrassment. Idiot.”
Jungkook clenches his jaw and eyes the knife on the table. Maybe he could reach for it and use it to poke Valkeria into her stupid mouth. He hates her so much. He has been the Queen’s guest since two months and she is still hurting him whenever the Queen wasn’t looking. He can’t stand her. She is cruel and exactly how he imagines actual witches to be like.
“That was exciting”, you return before he could hurt Valkeria, plopping down on your chair beside him. Your skin is glistening in a sheer layer of sweat and you are slightly out of breath. Jungkook lets his eyes linger on your neck for a moment, your jewellery was slightly out of place. He wants to fix it, but doesn’t dare with Valkeria’s fingers still tightly around his shoulder. Jungkook looks away, searching for the man who made you laugh. He is dancing with another woman already, making her smile as well. Jungkook looks away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He is angry at you for leaving him with Valkeria and for giving attention to this weird-looking man. Yes, Jungkook thought that the man looked really weird with his blonde hair and blue dress. He looked far better than that fool.
You study him and the hand on his shoulder.
“Valkeria let go of him”, you say.
“Yes my Queen”, she says and steps back in an instance.
You turn on the chair to face him, placing your hand on his lower arm.
“What is the matter Jungkook?”
“Nothing”, he presses out.
“Do you want more food? More wine?”
He shakes his head.
“Perhaps you want to dance?”
He gnaws on his lower lip in contemplation. He does want to dance. Valkeria laughs behind him, voice carrying judgment. Or perhaps he doesn’t want to dance. He shakes his head and turns away even more.
“Speak to me.”
“I want your warriors to stop hurting me”, he hisses and turns to face you, “I’ve done what you wanted me to do. I stayed with you, behaved, was your little puppet whenever you wanted to bath or feed me. I don’t deserve to be hurt by someone like Valkeria whenever you aren’t looking.”
You look over his shoulder at Valkeria. She seems shocked that Jungkook dares to out her in such a way.
“Is that true?” you ask both Jungkook and Valkeria.
“Yes.” “He is lying.”
You look at Jungkook. He lowers his eyes, knitting his brows in anger.
“It seems that your stories aren’t matching.”
“He is lying my Queen. He just wants special treatment. I would never hurt your prisoners.”
“He is not my prisoner. He is my guest.”
“He is still lying.”
“I’m not lying!” he complains loudly.
Valkeria draws her sword halfway, “say that again birdie and I-“
“Worry not Valkeria”, you interrupt her, “I already know who to believe”, you look back at Jungkook, “come now Jungkook, let us leave.”
“What?” he gasps.
You pull him to his feet and away from your warriors.
“But I am telling the truth”, he insists loudly, fighting against you.
“I know”, you assure him, “but I don’t want to stay here when my own people want to hurt my guest.”
“Where, where are we going?” he stutters, stumbling after you.
“Far away from the festivities.”
Jungkook looks over his shoulder. Your warriors are looking at you and him, Valkeria carries hatred in her eyes. He smiles at her victoriously, making the anger in her eyes worsen. Then he turns to the front again, running with you.
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His love for running soon turns sour however, when he stumbles over his chains yet again, hurting his ankles in the process. You support him so he wouldn’t fall, but the pain still lingers.
“Stop running”, he hisses, ripping his hands free, “I can’t run anymore.”
You whip around, reaching for his wrists again.
“Why? We are almost there.”
“At least take off my chains.”
You look down at his feet then back into his eyes.
“Are you in pain?”
“Yes I am. They hurt me. Why are you still chaining me up?”
“Very well then, you are my guest after all. I apologize, it was long overdue, wasn’t it?” you say and he can hear a faint click from the ground. Freedom, he can feel it. His ankles don’t ache anymore.
“How is that possible?” he gasps, stumbling away from the chains, which were on his body a second ago.
“I told you they are infused with magic. They only open when I want them to and I wanted them to open.”
He takes another step back, “I’m free?” he whispers, gawking at you.
You smile and nod, stretching out your arm and offering him your hand.
“Come now, let me show you everything.”
He looks between your hand and the opened gate. You freed him. He scans his surroundings. Three guards on the walls, but none at the gate. Five banquet guests and ten horses. No wolves, none. A sturdy stick to his right and a thick metal pole to his left. He could do it, fulfill his destiny and kill you. Nobody would notice and if they did, he could flee easily. He has always been the fastest runner of them all. He looks back at you, your smile and gentle eyes and your welcoming stance. But destiny has waited for so long already, he is sure that she can wait another night. He takes a deep breath and steps closer, placing his hand into yours.
“Let’s run, just one last time.”
And then you run. You run past gawking banquet guests and worried guards, you run down stairs and climb over rocks, you run up hills and stumble through forests, you run until tears have collected in both your eyes and Jungkook tastes the night air in his throat. And then you stop, underneath a white oak tree with its bark weeping darkness, you stop.
You turn and look at him with glimmering eyes. It makes him nervous and so he looks to the side, scanning his surroundings again. The forest was tense, but carried the smell of life. Not like the Black Forest with its deathly stench. He looked at the white oak again.
“What is this place?” he asks.
“This is the tree of our ancestors Jungkook. Mine and yours”, you explain, pulling at his hands to guide him to the tree.
“The tree of our ancestors?”
“Yes. They danced beneath it, sang songs to it and nourished it until it was strong and tall”, you say and place his hand on the bark.
“Do you feel that?” you ask him.
“A heartbeat”, he whispers.
“Yes”, you squeeze his hand.
“Where is it coming from?”
“It belongs to the tree.”
“The tree?”
“Yes, the tree.”
Jungkook counts the heartbeats, having to swallow. He can feel them so clearly.
“Is…is it human?”
“No”, you laugh softly, “it is neither human nor creature. Jungkook, it is everything. Every stone you see, every grass that grows, every stream which trickles and every tree that reaches for the sun. Even the air that surrounds us and the rain on your skin.”
The heartbeat against his fingers is steady, like that of a calm, sleeping body. It overwhelms him. He feels life surge through his veins and at the same time feels his body drain. He blinks, feeling his eyes burn in tears.
“I, I don’t understand. It is a tree. How, how can it be everything?”
“Must you really know the answer or isn’t it already enough to know that everything we stand on, feel, smell, see and taste is connected?” you say, taking both his hands to turn him to you.
Even now when his hands are resting in your palms, he can feel the heartbeat on his fingertips. It lingers on his skin and burns itself into his memories. He feels changed, as if he touched life itself.  
“But how?” he breathes, “how is it possible that everything is connected?”
“Its roots of course”, you say and smile, “they reach from the Snowy Mountains in the north to the Singing River on the south border and from the Nourishing Fields in the east all the way into the deepest corners of the Black Forest in the west. It gives everything life, nourishes it, protects it from harm and talks to it.”
“Talk? The tree talks?”
You chuckle, “not like you and I would. No, it speaks in a language not many of us still know for knowing it takes a lot of time.”
He inhales shakily.
“What…what does the land talk about?” he asks quietly.
“Many things. History mostly and songs”, you look at him, “you can hear those most of the times. If you listen closely.”
“How can I listen?”
You step closer, making his heart skip a beat as you brush your lips against his ear.
“Close your eyes and listen”, you whisper.
He shivers, eyes falling closed on instinct. He doesn’t hear it at first and it makes him think that you were simply taking him for a fool. He had already wanted to open his eyes again when suddenly a gust of wind made the leaves above his head rustle. They sound like hundreds of voice whispering songs and poems. The call of an owl joins them soon and in the far distance crickets chirp the harmony. Then the cracking of a branch and the trampling of hooves as a herd of deer hurries through the safety of the high shrubs, like drums they control the tempo of the song.
He opens his eyes, allowing a single tear to roll down his cheek.
“You could hear it, couldn’t you?”
He nods his head, knitting his brows and biting down on his lower lip.
“I know how you feel. It made me cry the first time too”, you say, cupping his cheek.
He lowers his head into your touch and squeezes his eyes shut, sobbing quietly.
“I never noticed it”, he presses out.
“Noticed what?”
“The songs.”
“I see”, you drift off.
He sobs and sniffles. He feels so embarrassed for crying, not because he is crying but because he has no idea why he is crying in the first place. This tree, this place, the songs and your warming touch, it moved something inside of him. He realised how dark he lived his life. He lived out his days with his heart filled with hatred, anger and resentment when he could have closed his eyes and felt the connection everywhere. Why did he waste so much of his life resenting something, someone, when he could have spent it loving the rest?
“Do you want to see everything?” you ask him.
He opens his eyes, allowing you to brush his tears away.
“Yes”, he whispers, making you smile.
You step forward and call into the night. Jungkook is mesmerised, your song blends with the songs of the lands and gives them strength. You end the call with a sigh.
“What was that?” he asks.
“I called my friends.”
“Your friends?”
Then he can hear it. The shuffling of feet, the cracking of branches, rustling of leaves and low growling. He draws closer to you, reaching for his blade on instinct. He doesn’t have it on him, of course he doesn’t, but the instinct was still there. He stares into the darkness with held breath, stumbling back when out of it a pack of wolves step. As tall as trees and with their fur as black as the night.
“No”, he gasps, “no what, what is this?”
“Not what”, you look at him, “but who.”
They circle you and him, growling deeply with their fangs bared. You step closer, reaching your hand out. The tallest of them all with its eyes burning in a deep green, rests its nose against your palm.
“This is Woltron”, you say and Jungkook feels his blood freeze.
“You lied to me”, he gasps.
“Lied to you?” you laugh, “you must tell me what you mean for I am utterly confused.”
“You will feed me to him.”
You laugh, “oh dear Jungkook, no. I want you to meet him. Come, step closer.”
He shakes his head.
“Come.”
“No”, he takes a step back, colliding with the nose of another wolf. It growls, watching him with fiery eyes, “no, stay away!” he exclaims, fleeing in an instance. He grasps your arm, hiding behind you.
“You mustn’t be scared”, you chuckle, “they won’t eat you. Well, unless you fail their test that is.”
“Their test?”
You pull him closer until he was face to face with Woltron. Its emerald eyes were drawing him in to the point that he felt dizzy.
“You see Jungkook, they aren’t just wolves. They are gods, old gods who wandered the earth way before humans graced it. They share their memories with the tree of our ancestors, they listen to its voice and answer it in songs.”
Woltron steps so close that Jungkook could feel its hot breath on his skin.
“W-what is it doing to me?”
“He is looking into your heart to see if you carry good in it. If you do, he will allow you to live”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then he will eat you.”
“What?” Jungkook turns away and closes his eyes, “no. No, I can’t. I will be eaten alive.”
You cup his cheek and brush your thumbs over his cheekbones. It makes him open his eyes.
“Trust me”, you whisper.
He shakes his head.
“But I-I am not good. I don’t want to die.”
You smile and caress his lips.
“Trust me Jungkook.”
He exhales shakily. Your touch must be magic, he feels so reassured that he allows you to turn his head back to Woltron’s piercing gaze. You hold his hand as the wolf was gazing into his heart, caressing his knuckles and studying his fearful face. You know that he will pass. You have seen it in his eyes the moment he pressed the blade against your throat. You saw the good in him and as Woltron bows His head at Jungkook you know that He saw it too.
“What is happening?” Jungkook asks, squeezing your hand.
“He is giving you his blessing.”
“I…” he throws his hand over his mouth, “…I passed?”
“Yes.”
“But…I’m not good.”
“Yes, you are.”
Jungkook looks at you with tears in his eyes.
“You believed I was?”
“I didn’t believe it, I knew it.”
He blinks, “why? I-I’m a Raven, I’m trained to kill people like you, I pressed a blade against your throat.”
“Even if you are all those things you say that you are, your eyes are filled with good.”
“My eyes?”
“Yes, your eyes.”
You reach out, making him close his eyes in instinct. You touch his lashes softly, caressing his lids afterwards. It makes him sigh.
“Those beautiful, beautiful eyes”, you breathe and step closer, “those aren’t the eyes of a killer.”
He opens his eyes, feeling himself shiver with every single one of your touches. You smile.
“Come now, I will show you everything.”
“How?” his voice felt raspy as he spoke and so he clears it with a shy cough.
“Woltron will take us.”
“Woltron?”
The wolf rests before you and him and Jungkook watches you as you climb on its back.
“Climb on him.”
Jungkook is hesitant at first. He fears that this was all a trick of the wolf, that once he is close he will open its mouth and eat him whole. Jungkook is so sure that he wasn’t good. The wolf must be playing tricks on him.
The wolf, which nose he had bumped before, pushes him all of a sudden. Jungkook stumbles, falling against Woltron’s warm body.
“It was an accident, please don’t eat me”, he gasps, fearing for his life.
The wolf merely grumbles and waits for him patiently. You giggle, petting his hair.
“You must stop being frightened. They have already accepted you as their friend.”
Jungkook looks up. He finds it mesmerising how you sit on top of Woltron, tall and confident. He thinks that this place fits you. You smile then.
“Come join me”, you encourage him, pulling at his arm.
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Jungkook feels as if he was living in a dream. The wolf carried you and him, took the both of you through the thickness of the forest until a high mountain cut off his way and he had to climb it. He only stopped once you had reached the top. He stayed back with his pack, resting on the snow with his eyes closed. It was cold on the mountain and Jungkook felt himself shiver ever so often. His breath was visible in the air, like a little cloud it lingered in the air for as long as he exhaled.
“It is cold.”
“Are you cold?”
“A little”, he answers.
“Here”, you say and take off your shawl, “it will keep you warm.”
“But you will freeze.”
You laugh, wrapping it around his neck a few times.
“I drank enough wine to keep me warm, worry not I am a heated drunk.”
He knits his brows, deep creases appearing on his forehead.
“What is the matter? Do you not like the shawl?”
He shakes his head, “I mean yes! Yes I do, I am just so confused.”
“Confused? About what?”
“Why you offer me tenderness and why you believed me instead of Valkeria and why you haven’t slid my throat yet.”
“I must say, it makes me sad that you still think that I want to kill you”, you say and Jungkook felt himself lower his eyes in shame.
“But I know why you would think like that”, you assure him, “it is difficult to shake off old habits.”
You tug at his shawl softly to bring him closer.
“You can trust me Jungkook. I don’t want to kill you.”
Jungkook inhales, catching a sweet scent. It was coming from the shawl. It was your scent. He knows that it was your scent because this is exactly how a room began to smell whenever you entered it. It made him dizzy right now.
“Come now, I am already so excited to show you everything”, you say and take Jungkook’s hand, leading him to the edge of the plateau.
“This is our home”, you tell him, extending your arm to point at everything.
Jungkook could see everything. The Singing River in the south, the Nourishing Fields in the east, even his home, the Black Forest he could see. The land lacked colour now that the night was touching it, only the blue light of the moon gave everything colour. But it looked beautiful nonetheless.
“Is this everything?”
“Yes, this is everything.”
“This is really everything?”
“Yes”, you say and chuckle fondly, “well at least everything your eyes can see. There are countries way beyond our vision, but what you see before you is our home.”
He feels so close to tears again. He always thought his world to be so small. It reached from the east border of the Black Forest to the west border and ended by the juncture where it met the Singing River. The Nourishing Fields were nothing but a legend to him and the snowy mountains were nothing but grey phantoms in the distance. He never would have dared to even dream of one day standing on said phantoms and looking at everything.
“It is so big”, he whispers.
“Yes, it really is”, you squeeze his hand, “tell me Jungkook, where have you been already?”
He points at the Black Forest and then your castle, lowering his arm afterwards.
“I see. Mhm”, you pause to contemplate, “worry not, you still have enough time to see the rest. You must see the Singing River in summer, oh its waters are wonderful to swim in. And the Nourishing Fields, oh Jungkook you would love the colours they carry in autumn.”
“Have you been?”
“Yes, many times.”
“With Seokjin too?”
“No, he wasn’t special enough.”
“I’m special”, he whispers more to himself than to you.  
He smiles and closes his eyes to listen for the songs. The Singing River in the distance. The wind down below as it swirls through the trees. The call of an ibex and the answering call of its mate. And behind him the old gods talk to each through their wolf form. Perhaps it is the fresh air on this mountain or the thought that Seokjin wasn’t special but he is, but he thinks that the songs sound even better up here.
He opens his eyes, realising that you had been watching him. He can see the stars reflected in your eyes. You smile softly and draw closer.
“Do you understand now?”
He felt himself smile and pull you closer by your hand.
“I think, I finally do.”
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You don’t wake up at first, only when you feel coldness against your throat. It is dark in your room, but the moon gives it enough light to reveal Jungkook’s features to your eyes. He is sitting on your lap, hovering over you with one hand tightly wrapped around your wrists. He had placed them above your head, moving them turns out to be impossible.
"Jungkook?" you ask, mind foggy in sleep. That changes when the coldness against your throat moves. You widen your eyes, trying to gawk at whatever it was that bothered you. 
"What is that? What are you doing?" you ask him calmly, eyeing the sharp knife he is grasping. 
"What have you done to me?" he asks, voice shaking in emotion. 
"Nothing. What are you doing to me?" 
He presses the knife closer, squeezes your wrists. 
"I am asking the questions tonight." 
"I understand. Ask them."
"I came to kill you. What have you done to me to make me forget my destiny?”
“I showed you your real one.”
He falters and breathes shakily. He shakes his head, finding his composure again.
“I hate you. I am supposed to hate you”, he spits, pressing the knife closer, “why did you take this from me?”
“I didn’t, you just let it go.”
“Stop”, he chokes out and whimpers.
“Why are you crying?”
“I am crying because my head is foggy and it is your fault. You cursed me, witch.”
You raise your head, making the blade glide into your skin.
“Then kill me.”
He draws closer. His tears trip down on your face. He is shaking, squeezing your wrists and pressing the knife closer. He can watch one single droplet of blood taint the clean metal. He looks back into your eyes, meeting nothing but sad understanding in them. Even now when he was cutting your skin and was holding your life in his hands, you weren’t angry at him. Jungkook sobs, tilting your head up with his knife. You let him, lips curling into a reassuring smile.
“I hate you”, he chokes out.
"No you don’t", you whisper.
He whimpers, knife gliding from his fingers as he kisses you deeply. You melt into him, allowing him to taste your sigh. He squeezes his eyes shut and sobs, kissing you deeper until he is sure that nothing could separate the two of you. 
He came to kill you. He was so sure that tonight he would finally fulfill the task Rafkan gave him. He decided that he would. Two hours ago when you left his chambers for the night and left him with his thoughts. Two hours ago when he tossed and turned in his bed and thought about what had happened earlier that night. When you showed him everything and held his hand whilst doing so. He thought about it, repeated it in his head over and over again until it drove him mad. He was not supposed to like you, he was supposed to hate you. And so he decided that tonight he would finally kill you and rid himself of his greatest burden. 
It seems that his plan wasn’t working. Jungkook whimpers and presses you closer with his hand on your back. You arch for him, pulse racing in your wrists. And Jungkook whimpers again, feeling dizzy. He wants to hate that he failed again, but he can’t. No matter how hard he tries, all he finds in his heart is the overwhelming urge to keep kissing you. 
His hand runs up your body to cup your face. He practically pulls you on his mouth, forcing you to sit up as chasing him would be impossible otherwise. You chase him happily, arms hooking behind his neck and lips parting for his tongue. 
He tastes of sweets and temptation. You taste of honey and perdition.
Jungkook breaks the kiss, breath intermingling with yours. 
"I can’t stop." 
"Good, don’t." 
"Why are you doing this to me?" 
"I'm not doing anything, this is all you." 
He exhales shakily, drawing closer. You sit up more, making him flee as your teeth bite his lower lip. He gasps and shivers, thighs squeezing together on your lap. As much as he is fleeing he is also chasing the feeling.
You break the kiss, tugging on lip until he groans. You release it with a purr, dark eyes flitting up to meet Jungkook’s. He towers over you in this position, eyes widened and fingers grasping your shoulders. You like the heaviness of his body on your lap and the warmth of his skin.
"You bit me”, he gasps, licking off the faint taste of iron.
"I did”, you say and smirk, eyes glued to his swollen lips.
He licks over his lip again, tasting nothing but the sweet lingering of your kiss. He looks at your neck then and the little cut he left behind. It is almost an instinct in him to lean down and kiss it. He couldn't stop it from happening, just as you can’t stop your head from tilting back. Jungkook feels your moan against his lips as he sucks on your skin softly. He believes that such sounds must be your way of cursing him as they leave him aching between his legs. He never felt such aching before. It must be magical. It simply must. He breaks away, stares at his crotch. It has…grown?
"What is happening? What are you doing?" he asks. 
You open your eyes and study his features. He is confusing you. He speaks of things happening while you did nothing but accept the tenderness he offered you. Then your eyes fall to his middle and you understand. He is straining against his pants with such intensity you fear he might rip through the fabric.
“You’ve hardened”, you smile and touch it, watching how he shakes at the feeling. 
“What – oh – what are you d-doing?” he stutters, wiggling back and forth on your lap as he hadn’t quite decided yet if he wanted to flee or accept it.
"I'm making you feel good", you say, rubbing his length continuously. 
He gasps, eyes threatening to close and fingers falling to your wrists to stop you.
"Don't stop it Jungkook, allow it to happen."
"But, but it's...it's….it's not what I came here for." 
"We both know this is a lie", you say, rubbing circles on his leaking tip. The fabric has dampened, leaving an imprint on your fingers. 
Jungkook moans, widening his eyes in shock afterwards. He wasn’t intending to make such crude sounds. He was trained differently, trained that his manhood wasn’t made to give him good sensations but was a tool to keep his bladder from breaking. Good sensations would let the demons of the witches in, so Rafkan said. But he can’t help it. He just…has to make a sound again.
He whimpers, head tangling to the front and lips pressing against your cheek as he begins panting.
"There you go. You sound so sweet", you encourage him, squeezing his length as you rub your palm up and down. 
His fingers loosen from your wrists, thighs squeezing around your legs. He doesn’t want those sensations to stop. He likes that feeling. So he hopes that Rafkan was wrong about the demons too, he was wrong about a lot of things already after all.
"Do you want to give in, Jungkook?" 
"Y-yes." 
"That delights me", you abandon his length to hold his shoulders instead, "I want to give in too." 
You flip the both of you over, sitting down on his lap. He hasn’t even recovered from the change of position yet and you have already grasped the knife and rested its tip against his chin. Confusion ignites in his eyes, growing when you drag the cold metal up his jawline and over his lips. He doesn’t dare to breathe, body tense in fear that if he moved, you would cut him. 
“You stole it from Valkeria, didn’t you?” you ask, dragging it down the other side of his jaw and neck.
“Yes”, he presses out, eyeing the silver blade.
You laugh, “she will hit you once she finds out.”
“You won’t allow her.”
You smile, dancing the knife down his throat just gently enough that it makes him shiver.
“No, I won’t allow her”, you assure him and then he could feel his shirt tear as you drag the blade through the fabric.
He gasps and shudders, back arching off the mattress. So that is why you grasped it, you wanted him bared to you as if he was yours to marvel at. You rip his shirt from his body, running your hands down his torso. Jungkook can feel your warm, soft palms and the cold, hard handle of the knife. It is such an opposite of sensations that he feels breathless.  
You cut his pants as well, bearing him to the coldness of the blade. You place it on the inside of his right leg, dragging it up his skin. Goosebumps rise on the rosy path you leave, his legs part for you. He rolls his hip up once you have reached his inner thigh, fingers grasping the sheets. With a curious fire burning in your eyes, you rest the blade against his swelling member. He shivers at the contact, twisting the sheets.
“Tell me Jungkook. Do you trust me?” you ask, turning the knife so the sharp side of the blade was pressed against his skin.
His chest heaves up and down in a deep breath, you can watch how it stretches his dark tattoo and makes his muscles ripple.
“Do you trust me Jungkook?”
 “Yes.”
Your eyes meet. Yours sparkled in mischief as you dragged the blade up the entire length of him. It felt cold on his skin, especially on his tip. He gasps and tenses his legs for bucking up his hips would have ended in pain.
“So you don’t think that I will wear your pride as a necklace?” you continue, running the blade down to the base again. You outlined his veins as you went, watching them change under the touch before they popped back into their original shape. It was mesmerising to watch. You press the blade against the base of his length.
“Mhm?” you stress.
He eyes your fingers, swallowing nervously.
“No”, he chokes out, eyes meeting yours in a silent question if his trust was misplaced.
You smile, “that’s good.”
You abandon his length and drag the knife up his abdomen instead, watching how his muscles reacted with every grace. You stop when the blade rests against his tattoo, making eye contact with him. You begin tracing it, making his nipple harden and painting goosebumps all over his skin.
“Who would have thought that the caged bird would be mine one day”, you say, watching how he swallows heavily.
“Like your slave?”
You chuckle deeply, putting pressure on his skin just enough to pierce it. He groans and arches into you, neck flexing as he throws his head back. The raven on his chest is crying one single tear of ruby for you. You wipe it away with your finger, tainting his skin a deep, deep red.
Jungkook looks at you again, brows knitted in pleasure.
“Do you want to be my slave Jungkook?”
He looks away and blushes.
You laugh fondly and twist the knife in your fingers so the handle would be facing him. He looks at it in confusion.
“It’s yours again.”
Jungkook accepts it and sits up, wrapping his fingers around your throat gently. He is so close, dark eyes challenging you dangerously. He starts from the bottom, cutting open the cords of your gown. It cracks with every new cord cut, making you shiver each time. He tilts your head up and squeezes softly. Your eyelids flutter, your head becoming dizzy.
One cord left. He cuts it slowly, eyes lowering darkly. The knife falls from his fingers and lands on the floor with a shrill sound. It is forgotten in an instance as Jungkook hooks his fingers in your ruined gown and rips it from your body.
You were only gone from his lap for a second and then you are already connected with him, sinking down on his length until you have swallowed him whole.
“Fuck”, he presses out, digging his nails into your shoulders.
You agree with a deep moan, twisting his hair at the nape of his neck. Then you begin moving, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“This is witchcraft”, he chokes out.
“Why? Because nothing worldly could feel that good?” you ask him, voice quivering in pleasure.
He throws his head back and presses you closer by your shoulders.
“Yes”, he moans, allowing his mouth to fall open.
“Well, then I am glad that I am the one to bewitch you”, you say, pushing at his chest until he collides with the mattress.
You wrap your fingers around his throat and squeeze softly. His chest rumbles in a growl, fingers slipping down your body until they are grasping your dancing hips, bruising your skin in the process.
His raven hair is spread out on your pillow, his neck was tense and his eyes squeezed shut. Your own threatened to close each time his length graced your favourite spot, if his blissed-out face wasn’t so mesmerising to look at, you would have already closed them. But it was mesmerising to look at and nothing gave you more joy than seeing a man get lost in the feeling of your warmth. Especially if that man was Jungkook, the stranger who months ago pressed a blade to your throat and the lover who right now feels like magic in your body. 
“What are you doing to me? Oh ___, what are you doing to me?” he pants, voice pitched in pleasure.
“Making you mine”, you rasp, writing your name with your hips.
“Yours”, he moans, back arching and heels digging into the mattress.
He bucks his hips up, forcing your torso closer to his’. You moan loudly, squeezing his throat as a reward. He whimpers and swallows heavily, eyes rolling to the back of his skull even now that he has them closed.
“Do you like being mine Jungkook?” you challenge.
“Yes”, he chokes out, basking in the feeling of your nectar coating his every inch.
“Tell me, is my witchcraft still a curse?”
He shakes his head vigorously, “no, no, no it’s not.”
You smile victoriously and straighten up again, forcing his legs back down with two strong hands. You arch your body, finding support on his thighs and throwing your head back.
Jungkook lifts his head for only a second and then the view of his length disappearing inside of you repeatedly becomes too much to bear. He moans loudly, head falling back into the pillows and hands tugging on your hips in desperation. Feeling your warmth is one thing, but watching the movements to the sensations is utterly and truly messing him up. If that is the dangerous witchcraft Rafkan told him to stay away from then Rafkan is a fool. Why would a sane man stay away from such feelings?
Your right hand leaves his muscular thigh, grasping his wrist instead.
“Be useful”, you order him, guiding his hand to your middle.
He is watching you again, shaking with his head dizzy. He groans, lungs wheezing for air, when you make him touch your warmth. It is so soft against his fingertip. You guide his thumb, making him roll circles on your clit.
“Touch me like this”, you tell him, abandoning his wrist to hold his thigh again.
You became tighter ever since he started touching you. Jungkook feels his toes curl at the sensation. He doesn’t want it to end, he wants to experience it until his heart gives up on him and his brain becomes mush. And because he doesn’t want it to end and you told him to touch you at this spot, he continues doing what you told him to do, keeping his eyes glued to your face.
You are glowing in ecstasy, lips parted and eyes closed. Your nails hurt him, he is aware of every nerve you hit as he can feel it tingle all the way to the tip of his length. He abandons your face then, looking at your breasts. He saw them many times already whenever you bathed with him, but he likes them a lot more tonight. They move in a very mesmerising way as you bounce on him. He wants to touch them. 
Your hips falter, your walls squeeze him. A dark smirk curls your lips. 
"You are learning", you say, shivering each time Jungkook squeezes your breast with his big hand and rolls circles on your pleasure spot with his other.
“Oh Jungkook”, you arch and quiver, “, oh Jungkook, oh sweet Jungkook.”
He is lost for breath. He can bewitch you too? He thought only witches could curse other people, not him. He was just a normal man. But then. You were nothing but a normal woman too, you told him many times before. This wasn’t witchcraft, this was simple, but breathtaking, worldly magic. 
You moan loudly, falling to the front. He could feel the impact your hand did as you slammed it on the mattress beside his head. Your other hand wraps around his throat again, making him look into your fiery eyes. 
"You are doing so good that I feel close to breaking", you growl with your voice deeper than usual. 
Jungkook swallows, head dizzy from your fingers cutting off his blood flow. Your hips speed up, forcing a guttural moan out of him. 
"___!" 
"I see you are close too." 
"Close to, to what?" 
You slow down your movements, drawing circles as you connect your lips with the shell of his ear. He mewls with every movement, melting beneath you.
"Complete bliss", you rasp, squeezing down on him. 
He whimpers, eyes opening widely to stare at you in shock. The smile you give him is sending electricity down to his toes. 
"You didn’t know you could do this, did you?" 
He shakes his head vigorously, mouth falling open. You stop him with a tight squeeze, forcing a deep growl out of him. Then you speed up again, watching him go cross-eyed in pleasure. He stopped touching you, grasping your hips to push you off of him. This wasn’t worldly anymore. He was burning up, it is the demons, they are coming for him with hellfire and breathlessness. You choke him harder, squeezing your walls around him.
"I can’t, I can’t, I can’t", he sobs, writhing on the mattress uncontrollably. 
"Yes you can, allow it to happen", you growl.  
"No, I can’t." 
"Let go Jungkook", you order him and release his throat. 
He yelps up, breaking beneath you with such intensity he almost throws you off of him. You pin him down by his wrists, riding him through his shakes. Tears are soaking his cheeks, his mouth is agape so far you fear it might get stuck, he can’t even make a sound. His high has stolen his voice.
His shakes soon turn into painful writhes, his legs wiggling all over the mattress in a desperate attempt to flee. You want to stop, claim your high on his tongue instead, but he doesn’t let you. 
"Don't stop!" he screams despite writhing as if he wanted it to be over. 
"Yes?" 
"Yes!"
"You are dangerous Jungkook. For me and for yourself", you growl, squeezing his wrists as you slam your hips down on him again. 
His body is bouncing off the mattress, making the headboard of your bed hit your wall repeatedly. You wouldn’t even mind if it decided to give up and break underneath you. Not when Jungkook is running through your every vein as if he was a drug meant to make you see colours which don’t exist. 
"Touch me again", you order him. 
His hand searches for your middle in an instance, fingers connecting with your pleasure spot messily. He rubs circles, doing so sloppily and quickly. It is a surprise with every second roll, making your toes curl. 
"That's it", you moan, "keep going." 
He wheezes for air, swallowing audibly afterwards. Is he looking at you or is he seeing the light? You can’t quite make it out through all the tears in his eyes.
“Are you doing fine?” you ask him.
He nods his head, blinking to make the tears roll down his cheeks again.
“Is this the best thing you have ever felt?” you ask, clenching in desperation.
He nods his head more vigorously, moaning your name brokenly.
“Keep touching me”, you stress with your voice pitched, “you are going to break me.”
“Break you”, he repeats, meeting your movements.
You squeak, almost falling into him if you hadn’t caught yourself before that. He watches you shake and hears you whimper.
“Break you”, he says, voice deeper than before.
He speeds his hips up and puts precision into his touches. Your eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open. He is going to break you. He has enough power over you that he can break you. He is doing that to you. Oh, it makes him feel so good.
“Give it to me”, he growls impatiently, “now, give it to me now.”
“Jungkook”, you yelp up and give him what he needed. Your high, your bliss, your nirvana. And Jungkook accepts it with his own body tensing in his heaven, painting your spasming walls with his seed a second time.
You collapse on top of him. His skin is hot and sweaty, so is yours. You want to speak but find no energy in your body, so you sigh and twist his hair lovingly.
He runs his fingers up and down your spine, keeping his eyes closed. You haven’t let him escape yet, he can feel every pulse of your afterglow on his length. They come with no pattern to them, surprising him each time with a warm tingle in his stomach.
“Rafkan killed my parents”, he breaks the silence.
You sigh and hug him, “I see you truly understand now.”
“I won’t return to the Ravens”, he whispers.
“Mhm”, you smile against his neck, “this makes me happy.”
“Can I stay with you instead?”
“Of course you can.”
And as you raised your head and gazed into his eyes, Jungkook finally understood that no matter how many times he would travel back in time and live his life differently, he would always find his way to you, for being with you is his real destiny.
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@submissive-bangtan @tipsydipsydo @bts-fan-obsessed @anonymous2505 @jikooksgirl19 @lilmeowmeowyoongles @fan-ati--c​ @trusfatedk00kie​ @cravingforhotchocolate​ @seagulljk​ @kthblackgf​​ @greezenini​​ @pb-n-juju​​  @flxrcnt​​ @issysor​ @callmejimmeo​​
1K notes · View notes
bangtangalicious · 2 months ago
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touch me wherever | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: jungkook needs to touch you and he just can’t hold back anymore
genre: pwp smut oneshot | loss-of-innocence!au, innocent!jungkook x innocent!reader, childhoodfriends!au 
wordcount: 2.8k
warnings: explicit smut, dry humping, unhealthy attachment, cumming in his pants, EXTREMELY horny feverishly whiny needy clingy jungkook, nudity, breast play, groping, subtle body worship, inexperience, a lot of begging, some crying, stuttering, coersion/dubcon-ish technically yeah, unrealistic scenario lol, mention of wet dreams, obsessive behavior, praise, assume characters are 18+ but just have no fucking clue what sex is, this is a fucking fever dream idk, cursing, dom!kook, naive clueless reader 
a/n: thank you so much for 1000 notes on fuck me forever! to express my gratitude, this is my gift to you, another needy greedy jungkook smut :) i hope you enjoy <3
masterlist 
Boundaries? That’s something you and Jungkook never needed, practically growing up side by side. Both your families were incredibly close, but equally sheltered. They kept the two of you trapped together in a conservative suburban bubble where the world consisted only of what was right in front of your eyes. No questions asked. 
As a child, Jungkook had always been addicted to the touch of your skin. He craved the soft warmth you had to offer, clinging to you like velcro, throwing frustrated tantrums whenever the two of you got separated. 
His face would get red with rage, fat tears forming in his eyes as his parents dragged him away from your bed once night would fall. He couldn’t sleep without you. Your touch was his safety blanket. He was only able to grow out of it when you leant him your teddy, finding peace in the way it smelled like you. 
Growing up, you had quickly understood that Jungkook was a very affectionate person, suffocating you with hugs and tickles whenever you would hang out. You had become used to him feeling you as he pleased, not ever minding the way his nimble fingers would trace across your legs, sliding under your uniform skirt at times. It tickled—you would laugh.
After Jungkook had hit puberty, his clinginess magnified tenfold. 
You plagued his dreams constantly, and without realizing it he would rut shamelessly against his pillow, crying out for you softly as heaping spurts of cum would fill his underwear.
He’d wake up, breathless with only you, you, you pounding through his head. His mind was dizzy with the feeling of your skin, he just wanted to touch you. He needed you near, to feel you pressed against him so that he could just—
He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand what was happening to his body in the morning when his thighs would be sticky and sheets stained. Sometimes he would day dream about you in school, only to wake up to the sound of your teasing voice, looking into your eyes as he leaked everywhere under the table. 
Jungkook found it horribly embarrassing. 
Until one day his older friend Seokjin told him what he was experiencing. They were called wet dreams, and allegedly they were normal. There was nothing wrong with it, but somehow Jungkook felt exposed. Guilty. Dirty.
He didn’t want it to happen, he couldn’t understand why but he ached for you so bad that it hurt. Kneeling down under a cold shower he would beg himself to get a grip, trying his best to act normal. His restraint paid off. 
Most of the time.
Currently the two of you were cuddled up in his basement, where you used to play pretend as young children. He’d be the doctor and give you checkups, healing your injuries with the delicate graze of his lips. 
It was hopelessly warm, to which you suggested shedding a few layers in order to feel more comfortable on the thick velvet cushions that were almost damp with sweat. Your head nestled in his lap, body in nothing but a bra and a pair of tight shorts that had found their way up your thighs, leaving little to the imagination.
You were talking, he could see your lips move at the edge of his vision but he couldn’t hear you over his steady focus on your cute polkadot bra—so snug and soft that Jungkook wanted to drool. He had noticed that your body had blossomed over time, flesh spilling over the tops of the flimsy fabric. The delicate curves that called out to him. Something rooted deep within him was yearning to get his hands on you.
“Jungkook! Are you okay?” You felt something poking the back of your head, prompting you to squirm in his lap as you attempted to catch his attention.
“Um” Jungkook stammered, unable to find words. He didn’t remember what you were doing there anymore. He barely remembered who he was. All he could understand was that his body was telling him something. Telling him to feel you, more of you, all of you. “S..sorry yeah. I’m good”
“God it is disgusting down here. I’m gonna take this off, one second” He found himself blinking in a daze as you sat up and unclasped your bra, his hips bucking up as it fell with a snap to the floor. Your arms covered your chest to shield you from the sudden exposure, giggling as you turned back towards him.
“Holy shit” Jungkook choked, clenching his fists so tight they were becoming white. “W..what are you doing?” You slid your bottoms off, bending slightly so Jungkook could see your cute cotton panties tucked between your legs.
“It’s so hot, besides it’s just you” Jungkook’s eyes trailed up your legs as you stepped out of the garment, his mouth dry. You took notice of his frazzled state, “Jungkook, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
His eyes moved down to his own shorts, noticing a bulge in between his legs. He scoot up to you, looking everywhere except your eyes, the painful clench between his thighs almost too overwhelming, his heart felt like it could burst. His desire suffocated him. You were a burning fever, spreading from his head all the way through his chest. 
Jungkook cleared his throat, “What? Yeah uh,” You raised your eyebrows at him, but he avoided your gaze. He gulped, swallowing down the heat rising to his cheeks. “I’m just in a little pain I...do you see this?”
Jungkook warily placed your hand over the tent in his shorts. You nodded, lip tucked between your nibbling teeth as you observed with great interest.
His eyes widened as your hand palmed around his cock, fingers trailing across the outline of the prominent bulge. Jungkook felt his breath get knocked out of him as he stumbled towards you. “Wait don’t!”
“What’s wrong?” You let go of him. “I’m so sorry, did that hurt?” He shook his head, only to realize he was now face to face with your perky breasts.
“Looks so soft” He murmured, blinking at you “C..can I...” He opened his palms wide “Looks so squishy, I wanna squish them”
You beat him to it, and he watched with blasted eyes as you caressed your breast mindlessly, flesh peeking through the cracks of your fingers as you gave a nonchalant shrug. “I mean I guess”
Jungkook grabbed at your tits, gripping them and giving them a harsh squeeze, underestimating the force of his strength. You winced as he continued to juggle the flesh in his hands, before pinching your nipples harshly to which you yelped “Ow”
He paused, a worried look on his face as his hands stilled. “That hurt Jungkook” You pouted.
Jungkook inhaled sharply, refocusing his gaze on your sensitive nubs as he gently padded his thumb over the bruised area. The immediate twitch of your body did not go unnoticed by him, and neither did the way you clenched your jaw, almost as though you were holding your breath. A glow arriving on your cheeks as his careful ministrations persisted.
“Does that feel better? M’sorry” Jungkook instinctively wrapped his tongue around your erect nipple, watching you carefully to see how you would react. He noticed you gasp at his actions, a glint in your eye that seemed to stroke the raging ego within him.
Did you feel it too? Were you aching as bad as he was?
“That feels...weird Kook.” The taught tip of his tongue flicked at your eager nub as his lips sloppily engulfed the tender flesh. He sucked harshly, loving the sweet taste of your skin. You found yourself being pushed onto your back, the hopelessly warm couch acting as a landing pad for the soft thunk of your head.
“It hurts” Jungkook panted, licking his lips as a string of saliva kept him attached to your heaving breast “I..in my pants. When you touch me there, it stopped hurting so much, you know?”
Jungkook licked his lips. He stared at your hardened nipples that were on display. What would happen if I just—
His body jerked forward, shoving his face into your chest, palms squeezing them against his cheeks. He let out a muffled groan, inhaling sharply to the point where his eyes rolled back, intoxicated by your scent. “Y/n, oh Y/n fuck it hurts so bad mmfh—” He cried into you, shaking his head. The soft ends of his dark hair tickling against your sensitive skin.
You looked down at him in shock, tugging his head back “What are you doing?? Jungkook?”
“Ugh, Y/n, just let me” Jungkook whined, his grip on your breasts tightening “No please. A little longer—it helps...I need this” He exhaled, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin.
He slowly released you, noticing his nails had left imprints on the sides of your breasts. He looked at you apologetically, caressing the scars with his fingers. You barely realized the delicate whimper that left your lips, but it had Jungkook’s body going rigid, arousal coursing through his veins like a shot.
“You smell...so good. It’s so hard for me to be around you I can’t...breathe” He traced his nose up to your shoulder, making you giggle at the ticklish brush of his skin. He arrived at your neck, inhaling deeply as he hovered over you, heat radiating from his body. His hips flinched, signaling him to find some sort of friction.
“Jungkook maybe we should get you to a doctor”
“No!” He pinned your shoulders back, a frightening growl appearing in his voice “Please only you can make it better I swear” You squirmed “It’s your fault anyway” He barked, “You made this happen to me”
You gaped at him, “What? What did I do?” Part of him wanted to tell you. He wanted you to know how much pain you caused him. Every day he’d wake up to you, fall asleep to you. You distracted him, you were taking over his entire mind. All you had to do was let him touch you and it would all feel better, but you were selfish, as if possessing him with your amazing body on his mind wasn’t enough torture.
It was your fault! You did this to him. How could you deny him of help? If you asked him to do anything for you, you knew he would, without hesitation. Did you not feel it too? Why couldn’t you just understand? Weren’t you were supposed to be his friend?
Reluctantly, Jungkook slid off of your body, creating distance between the two of you where he buried his face in his palms.
You could hear his soft cries, and your heart wrenched. You hated it when he cried, it was the most awful feeling in the world. You would do just about anything to make him feel better. To take away all his pain.
You stood up, approaching him carefully as you placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you, eyes glossy with tears, like a puppy. His pout was adorable, but the hurt in his eyes had you feeling guilty.
“Don’t cry Kookie...can I give you a hug?” You knew Jungkook loved your hugs. He had cried in your arms before, and you in his. You felt safe in his embrace, it was a comfort you never wanted to lose.
He nodded furiously, and let his hands fall to his side as you straddled his lap, holding him close to you, chest pressed against his as you stroked his back. Jungkook’s long fingers gripped your hips. He groaned as you adjusted your weight, sitting right where he needed you most. Even you couldn’t help the hot feeling that seized your body.
“You’re just so pretty Y/n...I can’t stop thinking about you” Jungkook’s hand slid up your back, holding you close to him. His face in your neck where you could feel him sniffling. “I need you so bad” He whimpered. “I just wanna be close to you, you know? Don’t you like being close to me?”
You were about to respond, before he harshly thrust up. His forearms kept you locked down tight on him as he pistoned his hips ruthlessly. You tried to move, tried to think but you couldn’t.
“Oh god oh god oh god” Jungkook yelped, his voice loud in your ears “It hurts so bad Y/n please oh gggod, I need you” His hands moved to the sides of you waist, holding you firm as he began to bounce you up and down, drawing his hips up to meet you as he grinded you down on him, the friction unbearably harsh, burning through the both of you.
His mouth hung open, face scrunched with an unbelievable amount of pleasure. Your body was so warm. You were flesh and bones against him, and his mind was going haywire—he humped against you like an animal. It felt so good—it felt so incredibly good. 
He had never experienced anything like it. He was about to absolutely lose his mind, the pressure from your beautiful body pressing up against his, pushing him to a point beyond nirvana. He furiously rubbed his crotch into your heat, chasing, faster, he needed more, it felt so good, he needed you so bad that he—
“Jungkook stop it!” You whined into his neck. He slowly came to a halt, sweat forming at his forehead as his heavy breathing echoed through the cluttered basement walls. The fabric of his shorts hopelessly straining, desperate to unleash what he was suppressing inside.
“Whyyy?” He complained, a hint of irritation in his voice “It helps me Y/n, I have to...otherwise it’s gonna keep hurting come onnnn don’t be like this”
“I just...wait...” You licked your lips. Then Jungkook realized. He could see it in your eyes—you felt it too. He didn’t know how he knew but he did. You were responding to every move he made and you loved it. But you were scared, hesitating, unfamiliar with these sensations. It was happening too fast, Jungkook read your body like an open book, you needed comfort. Relief. 
“Y/n...I already feel so much better you...you feel so good when I rub against you I feel so” He felt apart before your eyes, dragging you across his crotch in different ways until he found the perfect angle, where he could feel the wet heat of your core right where he needed it most. “Right there! Right there, that...that feels good” Drool trickled at the edge of his lips.
He was mesmerized by the jiggle of your chest as he moved you, you were frail in his hands. So good for him, so sweet—just perfect.
“No I...I need more” He was almost screaming into you. "More Y/n, I need to feel more it’s not...it’s not enough I need”
A low growl escaped him as he lifted you up, ignoring the way you shouted out in surprise. Against the wall he spread your legs out wide, one thigh hooked over his elbow. His hips buckled, accelerating as his cock slammed against your trembling heat, searing against your nerves as he humped you as deep as he possibly could. You winced in pain as your head hit the hard surface behind you.
“Oh my...Jungkook” He could see the arousal in your eyes, and it was that and the needy moan with which his name left your gorgeous lips that sent him spiraling.
“God Y/n...mmm’close...ohhh fuckkk” He came—the fabric beneath you get hot and wet with his sticky cum. He held you close as his entire body twitched in pleasure, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held you up. It was unbelievable, even in his wildest dreams he had never felt such overwhelming bliss, and it was all thanks to you, beautiful, sweet, you.
He released you from his grasp, but you grabbed his waistline, pulling him back to you so you could roll your hips against him. “No...no...wait” You groaned in frustration when your body couldn’t find the same friction it was loving just moments ago. 
Jungkook tilted his head at you curiously, watching as you tried to rub your cunt against him, bouncing on the balls of your feet while your fingers dug into his toned shoulders “Y/n stop, it’s gone. The pain is gone, if you keep doing that it’ll hurt” He pushed your hair back behind your ears, the carnal desire gone from his eyes.
You shook your head “But that’s not fair. I need...”
“What do you need hm?” Jungkook brought your face to his, his eyelashes brushing against yours “Tell me and I can try to help you”
“I don’t know! Okay! Jungkook. Just...touch me”
He nodded. “Where?” You looked at him, the look in your eyes was so desperate, so pleading, it had his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes fluttered to your lips. He inched closer to you, finding your gaze again “Where do you want me to touch you Y/n?”
“Wherever” You gasped “Everywhere, I need it I need to feel—” Your words made no sense to you, but Jungkook seemed to understand. He pressed his lips against yours.
“It burns doesn’t it? Tell me where it hurts the most” He commanded breathlessly as his hand cupped your trembling cunt over your drenched panties “Is it here? Can I touch you here? Is that what you want Y/n?” He rubbed his palm against the cotton, making you whine terribly.
“Jungkook..yeah..there feels really” You thrust your hips against him, face dumbed out in utter bliss, “Please touch me Jungkook…touch me wherever you want…but please please don’t ever stop”
thank you so much for reading! let me know what you think ;) masterlist  
scenarios: when you get a crush | when he takes your virginity | if he got you pregnant | kink discovery: dacryphilia |
drabbles: tickle me there | touch yourself here
2K notes · View notes
tteokggukk · 2 months ago
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waiting game → jjk
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– fic type: social media au
– pairing: jungkook x reader
– genre: soulmates au, ex-friends to lovers, humor, crack, fluff, angst, slow burn
– warnings: explicit language, characters are still idiots (what’s new)
– status: ongoing
– updates: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, 10 PM KST/9AM ET
sm permanent taglist: @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd​ @gaeguuliii​ @justbangtanthingz​ @maknaechu
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SYNOPSIS
in a world where everyone finds a unique connection to their soulmate once they turn of age, y/n can’t seem to figure out her clue. after desperately staying up all night to find one, y/n decides to rest and write down her list of groceries on her arm, ultimately giving up on finding a clue along with the whole idea of soulmates. that is, until jungkook wakes up to a whole list of poorly written ingredients scribbled all over his own arm.
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→ parts
note: links may not be working on mobile so refer to the masterlist for upcoming/previous parts!
character profiles
prologue (teaser)
one | don’t forget the eggs
two | here lies this conversation
three | when he???
four | spin the wheel
five | no backing out
six | still have a soft spot
seven | so u wanna go places
eight | in a friendly platonic way
nine | sweetie pls stop lying
ten | sucks on u for unfollowing
eleven | the power of jungkook’s mouth
twelve | you outshine shrek
thirteen | swedish or shiatsu
fourteen | caught in 4K
fifteen | make your own destiny
sixteen | do you wanna eat ramen with me
seventeen | defective flynn and mean rapunzel
eighteen | ✏️ back to square one
nineteen | something stupid
twenty | always going to be you
twenty-one | give him a chance
twenty-two | a long wait
twenty-three | return from the war
twenty-four | missing: jeon jungkook
twenty-five | flamin’ hot girlfriend
twenty-six | ditching soulmates
twenty-seven | sept. 3, 2021
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↣ all rights reserved © 2021 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.
1K notes · View notes
sugasbabiie · 15 days ago
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Before You Drag Me To Hell || KNJ
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Summary: It’s no secret; those who worship black magic will never see the light. You sell your soul for your abilities, and the new owner will come to collect. You had five years to enjoy your freedom, but you wasted your time chasing after a relationship that simply could not be. Now, the demon is here, ready to collect your tarnished soul and drag you to damnation. However, before he takes you away, you make one final request. Will the demon fulfill it? Or will you spend the rest of eternity in the dark? 
Unsure of what it feels like for someone to have as much love for you as you do for them.
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↣ Pairing: Demon!Namjoon x Witch!Female Reader
↣ Genre: supernatural, fantasy, magic, heavy angst, smut, horror, slight unrequited love, a drop of fluff, a hint of romance, strangers to lovers trope, demon au
↣ Word Count: 13k
↣ Rating: R & only intended for mature audiences
↣ Warnings: (dark themes, bdsm themes, and hard kinks ahead.) mild violence, blood, a small bit of mild gore(nothing too bad), arson, a hint religious themes, pining and unrequited love, injuries, demonic/Satanic themes, witchcraft, black magic, minor character death(no one we will miss), shunning/exile, kissing, rough sex, unproctected sex, Dom!Namjoon/Sub!Reader, impact play, anal, anal play, multiple orgasms, controlled orgasms, temperature play, creampie, deep throating, face fucking, slight double penetration, biting/scratching/marking, branding, degradation/humiliation, corruption kink, oral sex(m & f receiving), fingering, Namjoon has a demon dick that I personally adore, hot semen(because he’s a demon), pet names, dirty talk and name calling, breath play/choking, invisible restraints(it’s magic), crying, begging, doggystyle, missionary, kitchen sex, implied cockwarming, impreg kink, spit play, size kink, intense orgasms, pain kink, squirting, praise kink, Namjoon has a split tongue, Sir kink, nipple play, bulge kink, belly inflation, pregnancy, revenge served at its coldest, possessive sex, suggestive language, mind games, a happy ending per host’s request lol
↣ A/N: I would first like to give a big shoutout to @jamaisjoons​ for not only hosting this amazing Namkook Moonrise Masquerade collab, but for also making this beautiful banner. Thank you for being a great host and making this event fun and interesting!  My next shoutout goes to the lovely sweetheart @bangtanhome​ you have no idea how much I appreciate you. Thank you so much for beta reading this for me on a short notice. I swear this story would be nothing without you. Please check out the rest of the participants, and also tell me what you think of this story. I’d really love some feedback. Thanks! Please enjoy!
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“Satan has you by the throat, girl. Your services are no longer needed here. Get out; before you are thrown out of this holy place. From this day forward, you are considered shunned from this town…go back to the hills where you came from and await whatever fate the devil has set out for you. For those who serve magic shall never see the light. I would pray that God has mercy on your soul, but it’d be impossible because you no longer have one.  Now leave!...before the beast enters this sacred land in search of you. You’ve done this town enough harm; we will need cleansing.”
No more than a second after the mayor announced those gut wrenching words, the chilling howl of a hellhound ripples through the autumn night. Your eyes desperately scope out the people around you, all members of the board. You seek any sign of mercy, remorse, pity, but the only thing you’re met with is disgust and scowls.
 He stands among the onlookers, the man you fell deeply for, but instead of standing by your side when you admitted to your mistakes, he exposed you to the town’s leaders and played a part in deciding your punishment. He denied his relationship with you, dismissed the encounters you had, and  he even claimed to not know about your pact with the demon. The man knew of it all, including your feelings for him, but in the end, he chose religion and labeled you a liar.
After everything you’ve done for him and his family, the only thing you receive in return is humiliation and a broken heart. It all started when you started leaving your village to assist the town’s medics. The sweet boy would always stop by the hospital and bring you a meal for lunch. You chatted and talked about things that weren’t allowed to be discussed in the presence of the religious townsfolk. But one day, he didn’t show up, and your curious mind began to wander. You discovered where he lived, and you also found out his mother was gravely ill. That is when you told him your secret, your abilities.
You used your magic to heal his mother, but back then, you were only capable of producing small amounts of magic at a time. You spent most of your time reviving plants and flowers. But the sweet boy turned into a greedy savage; the more you gave, the more he wanted—until you had nothing left to give.
After his mother was better, he started seeing others but still maintaining the status of someone holy. He’d only approach you for two things, a touch of your magic and a night with your body. You wanted more than that; he always promised more. But more never came. That’s why you did it. That’s why you sold your soul; to please the man you thought would do the same for you. But unfortunately, the man probably wouldn’t even spit on you if you were set ablaze.
Five years.
Five years was all he could spare when you offered him your soul. “Use them wisely,” is what the demon told you before he disappeared into the night. If only you had listened. If only you weren’t such a stupid girl back then…if only you weren’t a silly girl now.
Even after being humiliated and betrayed by him, you weren’t angry. You learned your lesson—the hard way. But you thought he’d at least look back at you as you made your way out of the church. You didn’t want to plead for your life or pity…you only wanted to say, ‘I love you’ one last time, knowing he’d never return the feelings. He never did, not even after you admitted to selling your soul for him.
Though it happened five years ago, you’ll never forget how you cried yourself to sleep, wondering why the man could never love you the way you loved him. Back then, the wound was still fresh but now, not so much. You’ve grown a lot, but you still have a lot to learn about self-worth—too bad you’ll never get to discover what that is. If only you would have loved yourself enough to know that a man was not worth your freedom…if only.
You were only twenty when you summoned the malicious beast that now holds your contract. Desperate to have even an ounce of his love, you asked the other witches of your village how they gained their strength, and they informed you that they called upon a particular demon and sold their souls for it. They didn’t know his name or what he looked like, only the spell to reach him. And when you called, he came, but he didn’t give you the same offer as the other women. He only gave you a mere fraction, and stupidly, you took it.
You remember just how chilling those glowing bloodshot eyes were, staring back at you in the pitch black of night.
“Why can’t I see what you look like?” you ask curiously.
“Because you’ll forget what you came here for if I allow you to.” The deep demonic voice answers from only feet away. “How can I assist you tonight, angel? You seem…upset? Did you break something when you fell from heaven?” he mocked carelessly, his amused tone making your heart break ten times more.
 You must look like the biggest fool for miles, and you’d bet a stack of gold that you definitely are.
 “I-” you hiccup, making the faceless being laugh again. Your body begins to tremble, and the last brick keeping you upright crumbles to pieces. You fall face first onto the ground, and heavy sobs escape your throat as your tears seep into the already damp soil.
 The demon sighs, seemingly taking pity on your fragile state. “Ahh, get up. If you want something from me, you need to be a tough soldier. I’m not one of these scavengers that go looking for anything they can find. I am one of the oldest, and I don’t make deals with the weak; those souls get me nowhere.” He proclaims. “So get up, angel. Wipe that pretty little face, and tell me how I can make you smile.” He adds.
 You somehow find the strength to rise to your feet. You have no choice but to do what he says if you want to be powerful enough to please your lover. This is your only shot at true love, and you don’t want to waste it. The spell will not work again.
 “I…” you hesitate for a moment but ultimately find your words, blurting them out into the cool eerie night. “I just want the man I love to love me back.” You inform, voice shaky with nervousness. It isn’t every day that you’re in the presence of something this ominous.
He whistles.
“Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming, sweetheart. But can you answer this question for me?” he inquires.
 A scratching noise is heard a few feet away, about where he is standing, so you assume he’s tapping against a nearby tree. Although the sound resembles more of what a sharp instrument would make, not fingernails, it causes you to wonder about the size of this beast.
 He is large, that’s for sure, over a foot taller than you. His eyes are more feral-like than human; they illuminate without any reflection of light and are overly dilated.  However, that’s about the only thing you know about his appearance. The demon’s voice is deep and surprisingly smooth and inviting. But maybe that’s the way it is supposed to be—to lure people in.
You nod but then opt to give a verbal response because it’s impossible to see in the woods at night, especially since he made you put out your lantern. However, the demon speaks before you have a chance to answer.
“You are…afraid of me, no? But you want something from me. How does that work?” he questions.
“I-I’m not sure.” You reply in a small voice. It’s true; you are afraid, but love makes you do crazy things. “I guess I’m just determined to make this work. It hurts to love someone so much, and they show you nothing in return. Maybe loneliness makes you desperate.”
“Hm, humans are so complicated.” He chuckles. “But ooh, so interesting.”
There is a pause in the conversation, a moment where you stare at one another. You feel as if he’s examining you inside and out, trying to discover your anatomy. You feel exposed, naked under his intense gaze.
“I can’t help you with love, angel.” He finally says, making your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “I don’t know what that is or how to conjure it.”
It’s like your entire world caves in with those very words. The witches told you he could give you anything you wanted, so why are you being denied? It isn’t fair.
“But I can give you the power to make any man…or woman grovel at your feet.” He continues, bringing the pending sobs to a halt. “For one small soul, of course.”
“Yes! You can have it!... if I have to live like this, I don’t want it anyway.” You state, and the demon hisses.
“Yeah, don’t speak those things, angel. I don’t like that.”
You lower your head, not wanting to upset the one who is doing you this favor. “As you wish, sir.”
A low growl erupts around you, making the ground shake.
“Easy,” he warns, but you aren’t sure why. All you know is that you don’t want to mess this up, so if the demon tells you not to do something, you certainly won’t be doing it.
“So, how will it work?” you inquire, a bit too eager to give away your freedom.
The demon sighs. “Sweetheart, do you know what happens to your soul when you willingly give it to someone like me? Do you know where it goes?”
You respond with a yes, and the creature before you only stares. “I’ve already received my one-way ticket when I decided to serve magic; there is no light in my future, only an eternity of darkness. I’m going to hell whether it’s a hundred years from now or tomorrow; there’s no question about it. So please, while I have this opportunity, allow me to feel some form of happiness before I leave.” You plead.
“Fine…as you wish, angel.” He finally agrees. “When you wake up tomorrow, you will have the magic you find in those little books of yours at the tips of your fingers. You could destroy an entire town in under a minute, have an army of followers by the next sunset…that’s how powerful you’ll be.” The demon informs.
 You shake your head. “But I don’t–”
“DO NOT EVER DENY ME OR WHAT I GIVE YOU!” he roars, and you can hear the nearby critters scattering away.
You’re left trembling in your shoes, terrified by the demon’s violent outburst. He’s been so calm this entire time; the sound startled you greatly. But surprisingly, he apologizes for scaring you. “Sorry, my angel. But please do not ever reject my gifts to you. I simply could have walked away and left you hopeless.”
“I apologize. It will not happen again.” You promise. He hums in agreement.
 “Oh, I know it won’t. You don’t want me to collect early, do you?” he taunts, and you shake your head in protest.
 “No, not at all.”
 As you’re finishing your sentence, one important question pops into your mind. “So how do we…?”
“How do we what, angel?” he questions.
“You know…seal the deal? I guess.” You inquire curiously, remembering the stories your elders told you about their encounters.
This draws another laugh from the creature, one that’s genuine and less sinister.
“Let me guess. Those whores in that village told you that I was going to bend you over and fuck you out here like an animal.” He cackles, making heat creep up your neck. You couldn’t imagine anyone but the man you love seeing you naked, but something within you is slightly curious about what that would be like.
“I’m not treating you like that, angel. Believe it or not, you are much different from those dumbbells. If you were one of them, I’d already have you on your knees catching a mouth full. I only tell them that because I know they’re easy, and I like playing with my food before eating it. The blood seekers add to the offering is more than enough to seal any deal.” The demon informs, turning his attention towards the night sky before continuing. “Besides, I have a strong feeling that you’ll be the one asking me to give it to you by the end of our duration together. Oh, and speaking of time….”
 Your eyebrows raise in curiosity.
 “I can only give you a fraction of what I’ve offered anyone else.” He states.
“A fraction?...H-How long is a fraction?”
“Five years, angel.” The beast says.
“W-What!? But you–”
“Tsk. Tsk, angel. No arguing with the hand that feeds you. I’m making you an offer no one has ever gotten from me; it’s a pity you’re too blinded by emotion to see its potential. I will give you five years for the power of a goddess; take it or leave, sweetheart. But know this, you will never find another offer like it, and once I pull it from the table, it’s gone.”
Your mind runs a mile a minute after he says those words. How were you just supposed to decide on something like this so quickly? Five years isn’t time at all; it’ll be up before you blink. But spending it alone will feel like an eternity, and you’d probably die of a broken heart before the year is over. If you’re going to die, you want to die knowing that love exists for you and that you are deserving of it.
“Then I’ll accept it. I’ll accept your offer in exchange for my soul. Ahh!” Suddenly, the skin between your breasts begins to burn, not like a case of heartburn; it feels like someone is literally burning your flesh. You wince in pain, placing your palm over the area to soothe it. “W-What?-What’s happening?”
You look towards the demon for answers, figuring he has something to do with this, and you are correct.
“It won’t last long, sweetheart. I was only claiming my property.” He states calmly.
“What did you do?” you ask, peeking inside your blouse. Your skin seems fine; not even a scratch is left behind. Even the pain has subsided; you’re confused.
“It’s only set in place, so you don’t try to run away from me, angel—nothing to worry about. It’ll appear exactly 24hours before I come to collect what’s mine. You’ll get that same feeling, and your branding will be visible. It’s a tracking spell, an old one, so don’t try to remove it; it’ll fuck with you in ways unimaginable.”
“I won’t try to run. I promise. A deal’s a deal, and I will pay my part. Thank you for helping me; I won’t take this for granted.” You assure.
The beast chuckles softly, his voice sending vibrations throughout the wooded forest.
“We’ll see about that, baby. You just make sure I don’t have to chase you down when that time comes, okay. And remember, you only have five years with that magic; use them wisely. Go home, get some rest, and tomorrow you’ll be brand new. Enjoy the rest of your life while you can because the next meeting we have will be to end it. Goodbye for now, angel. I’ll see you soon.” The demon voice trails off into the night, but you’d like to ask him one more thing before he departs.
“Wait! I didn’t get your…name.”
But it’s too late, and instead of being met with a pair of glowing red eyes, the only thing you can see is darkness.
And the demon kept his promise, but unfortunately, you did not. When you awoke the following morning, the magic literally sizzled at your fingertips. You were thrilled, and the first thing you did was go out and plant the garden you always wanted. The village’s soil lost its touch a long time ago, and growing anything there was impossible until that day. You spent the entire day reviving surrounding vegetation, but when it came down to hexing and solving your problems with your unrequited love, you never had the heart to follow through.
You tried, you really did, but every time you thought about forcing him into that situation, it made you sick to your stomach. One more thing occurred to you as well; whenever the demon returned to take you away, your lover would be left to live life without you—alone and heartbroken, like you are now. You wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone, especially someone you love, so in the end, you did the exact opposite of what the demon advised; you let your five years waste away.
The demon would visit you in your dreams nearly every night for the past five years. His voice would constantly whisper filthy unholy things in your ear, trying to get you to do things to hurt the man you loved. Sometimes you’d be so lonely that you’d play his wicked games then immediately feel guilty as your pleasure faded away. The truth is, you have always been weak, and you don’t know why you thought acquiring powers could change anything.
Now, as you’re leaving town, you watch as the thick clouds slowly cover the moon. You’re left to finish your commute in the dark, alone and sorrowful, as you replay the last moments with the man you love. Your mind begins to venture off into ‘what-ifs.’ What if you’d gotten married? Had children?... Moved away from here. Those are some of the things you wanted, and you could have had them if it weren’t for your stupidity.
 It makes you very angry, and it isn’t long before you’ve worked yourself up to tears. Why couldn’t you just be strong enough to put yourself first? Why did you have to let him walk all over you? You deserve everything you have coming to you; you deserve to be dragged to hell.
You’re so emotional that you don’t even hear the soft whimpers until the sound is a couple of feet in front of you. You stop in your tracks to observe the sight. It’s a large animal, maybe a bear. No, wait. “Is that a dog?” you whisper to yourself.
You look around in search of an owner, but you see no one. Besides, who on Earth would have a dog this size? You didn’t even know a dog could grow this big. Its head looks as if it weighs more than your entire body.
“Hey, pup.” You greet, getting closer. You crouch carefully, doing your best not to startle the furry creature. “Are you hurt? I’m not here to harm you, okay; just let me have a little peek. I can probably make it better.” You coo as the whimpers continue.
When the animal rolls over, its eyes open slightly, and you nearly hop out of your skin. A pair of blood-red eyes peek out from behind the dog’s lids; it’s a hellhound—the hellhound. “Oh–my–ahh…!”
The creature springs to life, almost pouncing on you had you not moved in a split second. You hop on your feet, fleeing but not before it has the chance to drag its thick talons down your right thigh. You scream and wail in pain but never stop moving, running as fast as you can in the direction of your home. However, the hellhound is right on your tail, and you can hear its vicious snarls as it closes in on you. You have to think fast if you don’t want to be ripped apart.
So for the first time in your five years with your gift, you use it to cause harm.
“I’m so sorry, puppy.” You sob, using your powers to send a neighboring tree crashing down on him. The pain in your chest intensifies when you realize the heavy thuds of the beast running are no longer heard. The tears blind you, but still, you keep moving, not stopping until you are in your little adobe and you close the final latch on the door. “Fuck.” You whisper, voice trembling with pain.
You examine your wound and become queasy when you notice the deep gashes and the large amounts of blood gushing out of it. “Goddamn it…” you groan, resting your head against the door.
“I knew you had a filthy mouth hiding in there somewhere, angel.” A familiar voice says from the other side of the door. You recognize it easily. It’s him. It’s the demon. “Open up so I can help you. Don’t try to do it yourself; you’ll bleed to death. Your magic won’t fix those wounds. Nor will they work on me, so don’t try anything…and open up before I let myself in.”
You look at the floor and discover a small pool of your own blood has already appeared. You quickly unlock the door and open it wide to let in the beast. However, you aren’t met with a beast at all. It’s a man.
He is tall and handsome, with silver hair and lips that seem as soft as pillows—his physique is broad, muscular biceps strain against his black shirt. The man’s chest and stomach also appear firm and toned; he resembles a god. Or maybe not.
“You look good too, angel. Considering.”
This is not a man; it’s the demon. The proof is provided when his eyes flash red suddenly, reminding you of the night you met. He then smiles, two perfect dimples appearing on each of his cheeks when he does. The demon is breathtaking, and you can understand why he did not want you to see him initially; you would have been very distracted. He’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.
He steps inside, looking around before he turns his attention to you. Your head tilts upward so that you can take in his features. He’s so close, and all you want to do is touch him and see if he’s real.
“Take off your dress.” He requests abruptly, making your eyes widen. “Hurry up!” he shouts when you take too long to obey.
Despite being unsure of this request, you do as he says but struggle to unzip the back. The demon is behind you in a flash, mumbling words about moving too slowly and not wanting you to pass out. A large hand is placed on your shoulder. One glimpse at your shoulder reveals a set of sharp black claws that protrude from his nail bed. You nearly gasp, wide eyes snapping straight ahead as you feel the tip of those talons scrapping your back lightly as he helps you out of your dress.
“I need to look at your wounds, sweetheart. So I can heal them properly.” He says as your dress falls to the floor. Your body shakes with nervousness, the thought of him seeing you in nothing but your tattered underwear only adds to your worries. Your arms instinctively wrap around your body in an attempt to shield yourself from his gaze. “Don't worry, you have nothing to fear. I prefer to take my women with consent.” He assures.
You nod, unsure of why he’s doing this because he’s about to kill you anyway. Maybe your soul is only valuable if he is the one to end your life. A wound from his pet just won’t do. Although speaking of his pet…
“Is your dog okay?” you inquire, concerned about his well being. You don’t see him anymore, and you hope that tree didn’t do any permanent damage. You already feel terrible for hurting the animal.
The demon scoffs. “Is my dog okay?” he repeats with a chuckle, running his palm over your torn flesh, healing everything in its touch. The area tingles and burns slightly, making you wince. “Try to stay still. I’m almost done.”
You try your best not to move, but it’s hard when you can feel him behind you. His breath hitting the back of your neck makes tiny goosebumps rise on your skin, his chest bumping into you slightly when he moves, and every time he speaks, that deep rich voice fills your ears like smooth jazz. It is intoxicating and not helping in your already hazy state.
“I don’t have a dog…I was only fucking around with you.” The collector of your soul admits, making your brows furrow.
“W-What? But–”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, though.” He tells you, turning your body slightly to face him. “I thought you’d move much faster. I’m sor-ss….” The demon clears his throat, trying to conjure up his response but seems to be having trouble with the words.
“It’s fine.” You help him out, knowing an apology must be hard to give when you could care less.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“How do you know my name?” you ask him.
“I know everything about you; I own your soul, remember?” He reminds you, searching your body for any more abrasions. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to clean up and get dressed, but that is all. Don’t try to run away again.” He says as he turns away to look out of the window.
“I only ran because I thought I was going to be ripped apart. You scared me; you never told me that would happen initially. My mind was joggled; I’ve had a rough couple of days.” You argue.
“Fair enough, then. I assume that means you wasted your time on Earth.” The demon proposes, and you have to agree. It’s the truth.
“He wouldn’t even look at me as I was leaving, and he knew I was going to die tonight.” You mumble, causing the demon to grip the nearby chair tightly.
“Go get ready, angel. You have fifteen minutes.” He snarls, and you quickly make your way to your bedroom. You have no idea why he’s healing your wounds or allowing you to clean up only to kill you, but the sound of the same chair he had a death grip on being violently slammed against the floor tells you not to ask.
Whatever the reason is, you won’t have any complaints about it. Instead of thinking about someone who doesn’t care about you, you should use your last moments of freedom, reminiscing over the good times in your life.
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It only takes you a few minutes to bathe the dried blood from your body. While examining your skin in the mirror after, you did not find any evidence of being mauled by the demon. You spent most of your time crying once you realized you had no happy memories to think back on. You’ve always been that abandoned child that the village looked after out of pity, you had no friends, and your adult life was spent chasing after an unrequited love. 
You have no idea what it feels like to be loved, and now you never will.
“Are you ready to go?” The demon calls from the kitchen, and you turn in that direction, making your way to the area before answering him.
“Yeah, but may I ask where we are going? Couldn’t you just do it here?” you question and the beast rises from his seat. It’s dark in the kitchen, the only light is from the moon, but it does not cast in his direction, making it impossible to see his features.
However, those glowing red eyes are clear as day, and it brings back those memories from five years ago once again. He approaches you with slow strides, his heavy boots padding over the creaky floor until he stops right in front of you and the moonlight is shining upon his honey kissed skin. The demon appears more human in the light with brown irises that you’d lose yourself in if you aren’t careful.
“Things like this have to be done a certain way, angel. So if you are ready, then let’s go.” He says, holding out his hand. You hesitantly place yours in his, and he gives you a small nod.
The demon then turns towards the empty wall across the room, murmuring words to himself before a black opening on the surface appears. Inside there is nothing, but you can hear what seems like thousands of distant screams and wails of agony. “Are they…?”
“Souls. Mine actually. The ones I own.” He states, and the gulp you take is heard throughout the kitchen. “I’ve been doing this a long time, angel.” He says, turning back to look at you. “Too long.” He whispers, but you don’t care about that part because he’s already turned in the other direction when he says it.
The demon sighs and begins taking strides towards the rift. Your smaller legs struggle to keep up, but it seems as if you’re still moving too fast. Panic sets in, and just before the demon can jump into the abyss with you in tow, you grab his arm tightly with your free hand and yell for him to stop.
“WAIT!!!”
The demon abruptly comes to a halt, making you crash into his body. You almost fall backward from the impact, but his quick reflexes help him spin around and prevent you from hitting the floor.
“What!?” he seethes, anger radiating from his body. “You said you weren’t going to protest, angel! What happened to keeping your word?”
“I-”
You what?... Realized what the hell is happening, and now you’ve changed your mind? 
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s too damn bad, sweetheart! It’s over; you’re coming with me. Time to see what hell looks like!” The demon roars, yanking you along until you wiggle out of his grasp. He whips around, red eyes and nose flaring.
“Please! I swear I’m not begging for my life…I only would like just one more favor! Please…just one, and I’ll go willingly.”
The demon’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. He’s furious but somehow finds the strength to calm himself. “I gave you everything. The world was at your fingertips, Y/N. You chose to waste it, so what could you possibly want right now? And I swear if you bring him up, I will throw your ass into hell without a second thought.”
You shake your head. “No, it isn’t him, I promise. But if it’s too much to ask, I understand. You know what… never mind, I’m sorry for wasting your time. Let’s just go.” You say defeated.
“No. Because I’m both amused and curious now as to why you are going back on your promise, I want you to tell me. What’s on that pretty little mind of yours? Want a few more days with that incompetent church boy so he can read you scriptures while you suck him off?” The demon chuckles, and embarrassment creeps up your neck.
“No, I don’t. I know he doesn’t love me now, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” You admit as tears roll down your cheeks. You feel so pathetic, but if you don’t take this leap, you’ll break your promise to yourself.
While you were washing away the memories of today, you started thinking about if you would have just gone away and found someone who appreciated you. Surely, it couldn’t have been that hard. There’s a whole world full of people looking for love, and instead of being one of them, you chased after something that caused you pain.
There’s nothing you can do about the past, but with the ounce of future you have left, you’ll make the most of it. This last bit will be dedicated to you, not anyone else.
“Then what, Y/N? Speak up.” He encourages.
“I was wondering if you could do one last thing for me. I know you said you didn’t do love, but I was just wondering if you could try, only for a moment. I just…I want to know what it feels like, you know. I just want one happy thing to hold onto after I go, and I’d like for it to be that feeling.” You tell him, using the backs of your hands to wipe away your tears.
“Love you?” he scoffs. A bit of shame washes over you at the thought of begging a demon to show you any type of emotion. However, the idea of dying without ever knowing what it feels like to be cared for is a greater burden. “Baby, there have been grown men on their knees pleading for a little more time, and you’re asking me to pretend that I love you? Exactly how much did this world fuck you over because this is insane.”
“I just...No one in my life has ever loved me. My parents or ‘parent’ left me to die in the woods. The village only uses me for my powers and often threatens to throw me out when I won’t use them to hurt people, and the only man I ever loved played me like a fool. So I’d say the world doesn’t even care if I lived or died.” You conclude, playing with the fabric of your dress.
You aren’t looking at him; your gaze is fixated on the wooden floor. You don’t know what to expect when you look at his face—amusement, annoyance, disgust. Although your curiosity is victorious, and you look up to take a peek at the beast.
He’s staring out of the window again, at the trees and hills off in the distance. But when he feels you watching him, he turns to you. The demon seems agitated, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek like he’s fighting the urge to say something. Not wanting to piss him off when he’s given you this long to speak before he takes you, you attempt to retract your request.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I asked that of you. I must seem very ungrateful, but I assure you that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I won’t waste any more of your time. You may take me now; I’m ready.” You state, clenching your fist to prepare for whatever comes next. You couldn’t even mask the disappointment in your voice.
The unholy creature simply shakes his head, appearing even more displeased than before. Your heart begins to race with fear and nervousness; he seems like he just wants to rip you apart right now.
“If I make you feel good, will you stop thinking about that sack of shit and forget he ever existed?” The demon inquires, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow at you.
You can’t help but notice the thick, sharp talons he has for nails again. Though they are black and terrifying, they also look clean and manicured. His entire appearance seems well-kept, but you know it is only a disguise to walk amongst the living. Your mind wonders about what his real face looks like.
“I can try. No. I can; I definitely can.” You lie, trying to appear confident so you can persuade the demon. You know he can see right through you; you can tell by the way he smirks. But it was worth a try.
“Good.” He plays along, uncrossing his toned arms, and moving closer to you. He brings his left arm around your waist, and his right hand lifts your thigh--picking you up and placing you on the kitchen counter. You almost squeak in surprise, but it gets trapped in your throat when the demon’s lips come within a hairs-length from yours. “...because I don’t want you thinking about anyone else while I’m devouring this sweet cunt.” He concludes, moving closer and kissing your lips.
At first, he only keeps his lips on yours, but as you sink into his touch, you both begin to move slowly in sync. You kiss him back but allow him to lead since you don’t know his boundaries. Hell, you didn’t know a demon could even kiss, especially this well. The feeling sweeps you off the ground, defying gravity at all odds. It’s like you’re floating right now, and in the midst of it all, it’s so quick to get carried away. The only the keeping you grounded is the large hand splayed out on your mid-back, heating your entire body and comforting you in unimaginable ways.
The hand resting on your thigh travels to the back of your head. His fingers entangled in your hair, nails scraping gently against your scalp. It draws a moan from you, and your hands resting on your lap have the urge to touch him. Although you stop yourself, unsure of whether or not you are allowed to.
Seeing your hesitation, the demon unwraps his arms from around you and grabs both your hands, placing them on his shoulder, giving you silent permission to do as you please. He then pulls you closer, and you can feel a slight bulge pressing against your center. You are learning more and more about demon anatomy with every passing second. You let your fingers run wild, exploring his firm chest and muscular biceps while observing how his muscles flex beneath your touch. Is he enjoying this too? Or is this all an illusion to feed into your desire? Unfortunately, it’s hard to tell.
Realizing you probably need some air, his lips part from yours and allow you to take a breath. You didn’t even realize how deprived of oxygen you were until you inhaled with a loud gasp. The demon gives you a minute to calm yourself before he speaks.
“If you’re breathless now, just wait until I’m done - really done; I’ll have to teach you how to breathe after that.” He states, pushing up your dress and sliding your panties down.
You surprise yourself when you voluntarily lift your hips to assist him in doing so; you’ve only had sex with one man before, and instead of being nervous, you’re actually eager to experience a touch of another.
Once they’ve made it to your ankles, the demon drops to his knees, making you curious about what he’s doing. However, you get your answer when he first takes a big whiff of the fabric then tosses it behind him. He pulls you to the edge and throws your left leg over his shoulder, looking up at you with a devilish smirk.
“If you taste as good as you smell, then you really are a gift from heaven.” He states before spreading your folds and placing his tongue between them. A slow torturous stripe is licked from bottom to top, and when he gets to your clit he swirls it around the throbbing bud.
Your mouth falls wide open. No one has ever done this to you before. As far as you know, performing those acts is prohibited by the word of God—well, that is what your past lover said. But you assume that goes out the door when you are fucking the unholy. It feels filthy, dirty, and you love every bit of it.
“I knew you’d like the way my tongue feels on this pretty pussy. I could stay here all night and have you grind on my face.” He tells you before quickening his pace. You notice that his tongue does not resemble one of a human; it’s longer, thicker, and forklike.
He uses it to rut against your clit repeatedly. The feeling is new but so, so good, and you already can’t get enough of having his mouth on you. You reach out and grip his hair with your left hand, using the right as leverage to help yourself get off. Two fingers prod at your entrance, and you beg him to fill you with them. “Please…I need more.” You whine, and he gives it to you with no hesitation.
His digits sink into your heat, using the sleekness of your juices to enter without any difficulty. You moan and bite your lip, working desperately to achieve a release. The demon inserts another finger and continues to pump in and out of you at the same speed as your hips. Your body works overtime to reach your orgasm, but still, you need a little more to help you get there.
“More…please.” You say through labored breaths, and the demon’s tongue abandons your clit. You open your mouth to protest, but he then does the unthinkable.
The beast uses his fingers to open you up to stretch and prep your walls, making accommodations for himself. “I need to get you to relax.” He says before sliding his wet appendage into your center.
Your eyes widen in shock, unable to comprehend what is really happening. It’s unbelievable how he stretches you, and makes a way for himself. You have no idea how he’s doing it, but you have no complaints.
You struggle to hold onto the table, and the demon lifts your other leg to place your foot on the surface, spreading your legs wider for him. His fingers and tongue continue fuck you until you're literally begging to come. He mumbles the words ‘go ahead’ as best as he could, and before he can finish speaking, you’re letting go, coming all over his tongue and fingers as if you were made to do such a thing.
“Shit! I’m coming!” you cry, body shaking and contorting above him. The vibrations from his low chuckle send you further overboard, and another orgasm is quick to follow. The demon fucks you through them, using his tongue and fingers to rub against your sweet spot. His nose teases your clit, and when your high fades away, you have to pry his head away from you due to the overstimulation.
The demon removes his tongue and moves up to slurp and suck your sensitive bud before he reluctantly pulls his fingers out of you and rises to his feet.
“Come here.” He whispers, pulling you closer and kissing you feverishly.
His forklike tongue invades your mouth, exploring and leaving the taste of your arousal in every place it touches. You moan into the kiss, and he reaches behind you to cup your ass. Your legs wrap around his waist, holding onto his strong body for dear life. When your lungs begin to burn too much, you pull away slightly. A string of saliva connects your lips, and his tongue darts out to lick it up. You look at each other for what seems like an eternity before he finally speaks, his tone a bit softer than before.
“Did that make you feel better?” He asks you, cupping your cheek. His forehead rests against yours as he allows you to catch your breath before speaking.
You nod as best as you can, “It did, but….”
“But what, angel?” He inquires, thumb caressing your skin and wiping away a fallen tear.
“I-I…I want more.” You request as more tears begin to fall. The way he just made you feel was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You’re so worked up and in need to be filled that you don’t even realize how greedy you’re being.
The demon sighs. “Well, I’m not going to give you what you want, angel.” He admits, making your heart drop. “But I am going to give you what you need. We already have seen what happens whenever I give you what you want. So…until you learn what you’re worth, I’m going to treat you like the whore you wish to be.”
Confusion washes over your already dazed state. You want to scream, protest…but you never get the chance. The demon once again captures your undivided attention.
“And you can either comply or get dragged to the pit, sweetheart. It’s your choice.” He whispers, kissing your cheek and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. The demon pins you with his eyes, a slight amusement in his red irises. "So, what do you say? Ready for me to break you out of that shell?"
You pull away slightly to stare into his bloodshot eyes, taking in his handsome appearance one final time before you do the unthinkable and give yourself to him. What more do you have to lose? He already owns your soul.
“Okay…I’ll be yours.” You respond finally a bit nervous about what comes next, but you are adamant in your answer.
“Are you sure?” He searches your face for any uncertainty and finds none.
“Positive. I just want to be desired…that’s all.” You assure, lowering your head.
The demon hooks his index finger under your chin and makes you look at him again. “Very well then.” He sighs, tilting his head slightly. There’s a pause, but he speaks after a few seconds.
“On your knees.” He commands, lifting you off the counter and placing your feet on the floor. Your legs tremble from your previous orgasm, making it hard to stay steady.
He grips your hips firmly, not letting go until you have found your balance. Once planted to the ground, the demon watches you expectantly, and you obediently fall to your knees as he requested, staring up at him as you await further instructions.
“Well, it won’t suck itself. Get to it, whore.” He berates, placing a hand on his hip.
Your hands spring into action, excited to see what lies underneath the black trousers. You’ve never done this before, but you’ve always wanted to. You've never done this before, but you've always wanted to. What you lack in experience, you'll make up for in your willingness to learn instead. When his dick is released from its confinements, it springs out freely, and you gasp at the sight in front of you. 
It’s large, bigger than you’ve ever seen. Your mouth and pussy both quiver with neediness and want. The tip is an angry red, swollen and desperate for some relief. You’re thankful for the little bit of lighting you have; otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to see the masterpiece before you.
It’s beautiful too; the head is smooth and round, but the shaft is ribbed and textured. It probably feels amazing during intercourse, and you can only hope he'll allow you to feel it inside of you. When your hand touches it, the first thing you feel is how warm it is. He’s burning up, and all you want to do is provide him with some comfort.
“You’re hot…” you state, stroking his cock with both of your tiny hands. Both of them only make up half his size, and you realize you have your work cut out for you. His precum seeps from his tip, and your tongue darts out to have a taste. The sticky substance makes your tongue tingle; it’s like a minty flavor hitting your taste buds, and it makes you moan for more. “Fuck…let me cool you off.”
If the demon wants you to use your powers, you might as well use them on him.
You use your abilities to make yourself exhale cold air instead of warm, and when you blow onto the demon’s member, he has to clutch the table to brace himself. One hand pumps whatever your mouth can’t reach, and the other caresses his balls, massaging them in your palm delicately for a bit of extra stimulation.
“What the…Goddamn it, slut. How are you doing this?” he says through gritted teeth. You hum around him, and his hips thrust upward, shoving his dick deep into your throat.  “FUCK!”
The demon can’t even control himself as he begins to take over. He grabs each side of your head, and your hands naturally fall to your sides to make room. He starts fucking your face mercilessly, and you have to quickly learn how to relax your mouth and take it. Your eyes stay glued to his face, admiring the way his expression contorts between neediness and dominance.
He’s ruining you, but he’s thrusting as if his life depends on it. He’s close; his cock is throbbing inside of your mouth. Gurgling and disgusting gagging noises can be heard through the quiet kitchen. Your cunt is dripping wet due to the obscene noises and the degrading words the demon is saying to you.
“Every hole you own is going to be leaking with my cum. I’m going to fill every single one of them, and you’re going to enjoy it, aren’t you?” You hum in agreement, and the demon growls when the vibrations travel up his shaft. “Fuck yeah, my little cum whore likes when I fill her up, doesn’t she?”
You give the same affirmative, and the creature grabs a fist full of your hair, locking you in place so he can destroy your throat as he pleases. His hips snap into you violently, making his pants drop to his ankles. Your tears and drool roll down his thick thighs, and your nails have to dig into his flesh to keep your balance. He’s fucking you ruthless, and the harder he goes, the more you enjoy it.
Without warning, the demon ruts into the back of your throat, stilling for only a moment before loads of his seed fill your mouth. He tastes so good, and you don’t even mind choking on the rich taste. A satisfied moan escapes you, but the blissfulness is short-lived.
“Get up!” He growls, pulling out abruptly and snatching you up. He bends you over the table and lifts your dress, dipping into your heat before you are even done gasping from the sudden intake of air. “Fucking hell, you are tight!” he groans, trying his best to give you time to adjust.
His cock is still thick, throbbing, and hard as a rock; your cunt quivers for it, and then he begins to move, slapping your ass to loosen you up a bit. You’re still struggling to take him, but as the rugged pattern along his shaft begins to move against your walls, your body slowly becomes addicted.
“Did that boy even fuck you, hm? Did he fill this pussy up like this? Or was this cunt too filthy for a pretty boy like him?” He asks, slapping your ass again. You cry in pleasure every time his hot palm comes crashing into your skin, leaving an area of scalded flesh behind. The pain strings initially but radiates pleasure through your whole body. “Answer me!”
“NO! Fuck! He didn’t…He couldn’t! He can’t fuck me like this!” you sob, gripping onto the counter for support.
The demon grabs your hair again and pulls you up so he can speak into your ear.
“No one can, slut!” He says in an impossibly deep voice. He pushes your head back onto the table and holds his hand there to keep you in place.
The beast toys with your back entrance, gathering your arousal to lubricate his fingers. The digits then travel to your rim, teasing and probing it before one slides into it. The next one soon follows, and you grit your teeth until the burning of the stretch subsides. The demon fucks you with both his fingers and his dick until he eventually pulls out of your pussy.
You whine but are told to shut up immediately. He spreads your ass cheeks and spits between them, lubricating you some more before he stretches your hole with his fingers. “I bet he never filled this hole either.” He chuckles darkly before shoving his cock into your rear.
Strong arms pull you up, and he quickly finds your clit, massaging it gently until you relax into his touch. He calls you a dirty bitch, and you become just that, eager to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel. Your back arches, and you grind back onto him, moaning from the feeling of being so full. The demon slaps your cunt with his hand repeatedly, and it only gives you the strength to continue.
“Look at you dripping from every single one of these tight cum buckets. You were made to take all this cum, weren’t you? Once I’m done filling up your ass, I’m going to see how much cum your pussy can take before your fucking belly swells, slut.”
His words have you clenching involuntarily, and your eyes roll back when his teeth bite your neck, surely leaving marks in his wake. You can hear him whispering ‘mine’ under his breath, but you’re too far gone to process it. “Fuck yourself on my dick if you want my cum then, whore.” He whispers in your ear.
You bend over and start circling your hips. The demon watches in astoundment as your ass bounces and jiggles every time you come crashing down on his cock. You get bold, courageous and begin talking back to him, giving your own dirty words of encouragement.
“You feel so fucking good.” You purr, looking back at him with lustful eyes.
“Yeah? Tell me about it. How good do I feel to you, baby?” he responds, and you hum.
“Mmhmm, you do. So fucking good…the best I’ve ever had. So big, so hard. Please fuck me back; I want you to use me like the little whore I am. I want your cum dripping out of me every time I move.” You beg the red-eyed demon.
“Shit!” he curses, grabbing your waist and plowing into you. Your moans turn into screams within seconds as a blinding white light clouds your vision. He grabs your wrists and pulls them behind you, using them to help him pound into you harder and faster.
You grit your teeth as the intense feeling washes over you. All you can hear is the demon’s sharp hisses as he releases his seed inside of you and the sound of your juices squirting all over the floor.
He flips you over at the speed of light and hoists you up on the kitchen counter, spreading your legs wide. He uses his cock to slap your center, prompting another wave of pleasure to hit you. You look down and watch both your arousals seeping onto the table as they leak from your spent holes.
His hot cum soothes your aching center; you whimper when his thumb grazes your sensitive swollen bud, and the tall, handsome devil kisses you softly. “You might be a dirty bitch, but you’re my dirty bitch.” He says, leaving hot wet kisses up your neck until he reaches your ear.
“I’ve wanted you since the night I saw you in those woods, but you weren’t ready for me then, and that was okay because good things come to those who wait, angel. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on…I want you in ways you haven’t even heard of, sweetheart.” He continues.
“You already have me, so do as you please.” You answer breathlessly.
“I have your soul, but I want more than that. You’ve given damn near everything to the pathetic creatures of this Earth when you could have given yourself to greatness. I know deep down you wanted to; you wanted me to come and take you away. I could feel your body yearning for me. Every time you were fucking him, you were thinking of me. At night, you’d toss and turn, wishing to hear my voice again, and unlike that sorry sack of shit, I was there.” The demon whispers.
“You were?” you gasp as his hand wraps snugly around your throat. He pulls away from your neck and applies more pressure, limiting your air supply for a few seconds before he slowly allows you to breathe again.
“Yes, I was. I’m always around when you need me. I always will be.” He tells you, and your heart skips a beat. You know he doesn’t mean it, and it’s only an act, but you allow yourself to bask in that feeling. This is as good as it’ll ever get for you.
You’re so turned on by the things he’s doing to you that you don’t realize how your fingers rub your clit absentmindedly until the demon curses.
 “Fuck, that’s sexy. Keep doing it.” He encourages, giving you a moment to breathe before the pressure is applied once more. “Just like that; don’t stop, okay.”
You try your best to nod or speak but can’t do your position. He aligns himself with your center, sliding in until he’s buried inside of you. You wince from the sensitivity, but the stimulation to your clit helps you fight through it. Your watch as the demon grabs the top of your dress and rip it apart, the second time he’s torn your clothes tonight. Although this time, he does the same to himself, releasing your neck from his grasp and tearing his own clothing off.
Your mouth falls open when his muscular frame comes into view, and he winks at you when he catches you ogling.
“Why serve a man when you could stand next to a king, angel?” he asks, pulling you closer and spreading your legs as wide as he can. “Are you going to be mine, hm? Are you going to let me in and allow me to show you how powerful you really are? You’re so good, so obedient…but I want you to for me, and only me. Can you do that?”
The demon pulls out and snaps back into you, the impact making your body jolt. Your fingers continue to make quick circles at you, bud. Your eyes squeeze shut as the urge to come approaches, but it’s swiftly ripped away when the demon uses his powers to grab your wrists and pin them to the wall behind you. He forces your eyes open and slams his fist into the hard countertop, breaking a piece of it without even flinching.
“KEEP YOUR FUCKING EYES ON ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU, WHORE!” he roars, shaking the entire house. Your eyes widen, and your walls tighten around him, the dominance of his voice turning you on even more. To your disadvantage, he stops fucking you, and your face pleads with him to keep going. “I asked you a question. If you want to get fucked like a slut then you answer it like one.” He growls while staring directly into your eyes, he’s so much larger and intimidating this close, but you don’t back down.
“Ruin me, Sir.” You whisper, and something sinister flashes in his eyes.
He lifts your legs and brings them behind your head, folding you up like the thinnest piece of paper. “Don’t squirm, don’t move, take my dick like it’s the only thing you know how to do. And don’t you dare come; hold it this time.”
You don’t even get the chance to reply because he’s ramming himself into you rapidly, leaving you breathless and gasping for air. His balls repeatedly smack your ass, adding to the pleasure. The demon’s words become more filthy with every passing second, and you should be ashamed of yourself for being aroused by it. You’re drooling, sobbing, and your juices are squelching and spilling everywhere. Every time the beast's hips part from yours, thick strings of sticky arousal are seen between you.
“You feel so good, so big!” You mewl, trying to hold off the feeling bubbling inside of you. You know he isn’t going to let you come, so you try your best to hold it off. The demon continues fucking you without an ounce of mercy, and you’re sure the entire village can hear your screams.
“You take me well, slut. I thought I’d rip you apart, but like a good little whore you opened up for me. Fuck, look at how this pussy swallows me up. I’m going to feed you so well; you’ll be stuffed for weeks…or maybe months.” He chuckles, bringing your legs down.
His hand slides up your stomach, stilling, and press firmly. You can see how his dick pounds deep into you, and the demon seems mesmerized with just how far he’s inside of you. His other hand comes up, and then both grab your waist. “I wonder how much cum this body can take before you’re nice, round, and pregnant.” He murmurs, picking up the pace.
“You wanna find out? Would you like to have my little demon seeds? Let me breed you and fill you up every night? Fuck, you’d look so sexy walking around all swollen and heavy for me. I’d fuck your pregnant cunt wide open and prepare you for the next one. Shit, you just got so fucking tight. You want that, don’t you? You want me to breed you?”
“Oh fuck! Yes, please! I want you to…please don’t stop! I need to come; I can’t–”
“You will! Because I told you to. You obey me. Understand?” he chides, and you try to nod but cannot move your head. He’s so deep, so far inside of you that you can only cry and moan in ecstasy.
It’s like nothing you ever felt before, and in this state, you’re just a puppet being pulled by its strings.
“Yes, I understand.” You sob. He leans forward and grabs your breast, sucking each one at a time while flicking your buds with his huge tongue. He releases you from his grasp and allows you to wrap your limbs around him.
The demon picks you up and walks you over to the table, laying you on your back carefully. He never loses his rhythm, and when you look up at him, he speaks. “I’m about to give it to you like no one ever has, but if it becomes too much, just tell me.”
You don’t understand why he’s being so nice, or he’s taking his time with you, but right now, it doesn’t even matter. You feel good, wanted, cared for, and that’s all you ever wanted.
“You wanted me to love you, right? Well, I’m about to try. I’m going to fuck you so good that you’ll forget your own name…the only name you’ll remember is mine.” He states, fucking you slow and deep.
“What is your name?” you rasp, nails digging into his back. He doesn’t even bat an eyelash as they penetrate his skin.
“I think you know that answer already…think about it. Think about who has you this wet, this hot, and who’s deeper than anyone has ever been. I’ve told you my name while you were dreaming of me eating you like my last meal; you just need to remember.” He says, grabbing your arms and pinning them down. “Let me show you something.”
You squirm beneath him, trying to escape the pressure his lower body has on your clit. He grinds himself into you, knowing good and well what kind of torture he’s administering. Your chest begins to burn where he branded you five years ago and when you look down, a symbol you’ve never seen before appears. “Tell me what that says; it’s the oldest language there is, but I’ve told you what that means…I think about it, baby, and when you give me the correct answer, I’ll let you make you come and fill you to the brim.”
You stare at the mysterious symbol, watching as it glows in the darkness. It burns, but you’re too blinded by hot pleasure for it to phase you. “Come on, baby. Say my name. Scream it, and let everyone know who you really belong to.” He coaxes, hips snapping into you, deliberately hitting your sweet spot.
Your mind struggles to focus when the only thing you can think about is chasing your high. “I’m trying…” you moan, and he latches onto your right nipple. Your back arches, and he releases it with a pop.
“Didn’t that feel good? I should do it to the other one, huh?” he suggests.
“No…” you gasp, wrapping your fingers around his. “I’ll come; I can’t take it.” You whine, voice hoarse and needy.
“Well, you better think fast.” He says before attacking your other breast. Your arousal begins to pool beneath you, and you shake your head in protest. You nearly lose hope, but when you look into his blood-red eyes, you suddenly remember everything, and his name flies from your mouth instantly.
“Namjoon!” you gasp, unknowingly unleashing the beast. He stiffens before his back muscles begin to contort. His body changes before your eyes, and when he raises his head, you see the demon’s true identity.
Your mouth opens in surprise, and Namjoon chuckles, throwing his head back.
“What’s the matter, angel? You scared now?” he teases.
You shake your head, asking him to let go of your wrist, and he does. He doesn’t believe you, especially when he notices how your hands shake as they come up to cup his face. Your fingers trace his rough exterior, thumb swiping the sharp end of his fangs. They travel to his body, large and twice your size. You admire his battle wounds and tattoos covering his body. You’d love to explore some more, but you know he’s waiting for you to speak.
“You can be yourself when you’re with me. You deserve to feel good too. I still want you…more than anything.” You answer truthfully, and you watch how his features soften.
You’re such an idiot. This whole time Namjoon has been trying to give you what you’ve been craving, but you denied him. In your dreams, if you cried, he’d hold you. When you wanted to give up, he persuaded you not to. No matter what you were going through, he was there. But only because you are his property and he doesn’t like damaged goods.
“What’s wrong?” he asks with a look of concern.
You push all the negative thoughts behind you and focus on your last night on Earth. He’s doing his part, so you have to do yours.
“Nothing.” You lie, giving your best smile. You bring him closer, hugging him tightly so he can’t see your tears. “Keep going.”
“But–”
“Namjoon, please just keep going. I need you to keep going.” You insist, urging him to move by circling your hips. The demon reluctantly complies, and soon you’re both panting and needing relief.
The table slides with each hard thrust of Namjoon’s hips and quickly moves you to the floor before it moves from under you and you fall. He flips you over, bringing your ass in the air and slapping it harshly.
“You don’t fucking listen! And I’m fucking sick of it!” he growls, pounding into you and making your eyes roll back. He grabs your hair and pulls you up, forcing you to look at him. “You’re going to do as I say, and when I tell you to cum, you better scream my name as loud as you can.”
You nod, and he proceeds. Honestly, you’re glad he decided to change the mood. Slow sex only produces feelings you can’t feel right now…not for him.
“It’s like the only time I can get through to you is when I’m using you like a whore. Now, this is my final time repeating this…You are fucking mine! You hear me? And I don’t want anyone weak. I’m going to bring the bitch out of you one way or another, and you’re going to watch me destroy the piece of shit and everyone else in that town. You’re a good girl for me, but I need you to be bad tonight, baby. I’m going to fuck you until you’re nice and swollen with my seed, and we’re going to go out and have some fun, then I’m going to take you home and fuck you some more. We good on that? Or are you still afraid of the big bad wolf, little girl? Those powers too much for you to handle, baby?”
His hand finds your neck again easily, and you suddenly are back to being the feral woman only the demon can drive out.
“Fuck, no.” You tell him, placing your hand on the back of his head and kissing him before he can say another word.
Your lips move together sloppily while he slams into your center. The sound of skin slapping feels the room, and you mewl into his mouth when the ridges of his cock slide over your g-spot. “Namjoon…” you whine, breaking the kiss.
“I know, angel.” He coos, finding your throbbing clit. His pace quickens, and he squeezes tighter around your throat. Your body feels lighter and lighter with every thrust, and when he slaps your sensitive bud, your body shivers. “Come, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Namjoon.” You whimper as your body shudders in his arms. The demon growls when your walls enclose around him, and his nails dig into your skin, causing tiny nicks along your neck.
“Shit!” he curses, barely able to move in and out of you due to the tightness of your cunt. His dick pulsates inside of you, and you know he’s also reached his orgasm when hot semen begins to fill your womb.
“Namjoon!” you cry into the night, and the demon can only grunt and howl your name as he continues to take you from behind. You squirt all over the floor…body trembling as you struggle to say upright. Namjoon keeps you up and helps you through it with words of praise. “Good job, angel. You’re amazing, so beautiful, and all mine. You were made for me.” He groans, still filling you up with loads of cum.
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After what seems like hours of being pumped with Namjoon’s seed, he finally brought you to your bedroom. He spoons you while his large hand rubs over your swollen belly as you lay in your bed. He tries his best to soothe your aching body, but being fucked senselessly by a demon isn’t easy to recover from. You feel so secure in his strong arms, and you wonder what you did to deserve this. You’re sure no one else has ever experienced a little extra time.
“Namjoon?” you call, and he answers, wiping away your stray tears. “Why do you call me angel when I’m everything but?”
“Because even though you’ve been to hell and back, you still find it in you to do good. It takes strength to be that way. You must be the light and the end of the darkness, the way I see it. That’s the way I felt when I first saw you.” He admits, resting his chin on top of your head.
It amazes you how Namjoon is so caring and kind when all he has to do is take you away now. Although, this may just be a trick to get you to trust him, and just when you’re vulnerable enough, he’ll sink his teeth in you. You can’t lie and say that a little part of you doesn’t want to believe him, though. Because deep down, you are a bit hopeful.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore. You can take me now; I won’t fight,” you assure, but the demon only sighs.
“I will, Y/N. Just…sleep first, and when you awake, I’ll do as I promised, okay.” He tells you.
Tired, with no strength to argue, you shut your eyes and allow yourself to slip off into sleep. You have no idea what tomorrow holds, but tonight you feel good, desired…loved. Someone is putting you first, and that someone isn’t human at all. It’s a demon. An evil entity that has shown you more compassion than any mortal ever has. You’ll stand beside him, loyal and willingly, serve him like no one ever has. You owe him that much; he’s given you everything you never had. And you will do the same.
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Namjoon stares at you in awe as he makes his way up the hill, your battered ex-lover crawling not too far behind. You look stunning, beautiful, your belly already growing with his unborn child. You can’t see or feel anything yet, but he can. Things are different with a demon offspring; the father will have a closer connection than the mother, but he won’t dare fill its brain with evil thoughts. No, he wants better for his child, better than the both of you have ever had.  
He wants to say that he wishes he’d met you before this scum behind him did, but Namjoon was horrible back then. He would have destroyed you in more ways than one and still snatched your soul for the keeping. The demon’s been around for a very long time and didn’t acquire his status in the pit by playing the nice guy. Namjoon has done enough damage over the centuries and would like to fix something for a change—starting with you. 
His angel with the broken wings.
He’ll fix them and give them a new look if it’s the last thing he does; then, you’ll live the rest of your life here on Earth. He doesn’t want your soul; he never has. It’s always been you who he’s wanted; he just didn’t understand why until you spoke to him about wanting to be loved. He started feeling things he didn’t know he could feel.
You are a kind and caring person; how can no one here see that? The things you do for others don’t match what they do for you. Even when you were about to be dragged to hell, you found time to stop and show pity to a wild animal. And all while running for your life, you still were concerned for the beast. He’s intrigued by your selflessness. But Namjoon can no longer stand to see you hurting; he wants to make you as happy as you make him when he sees you caring for those withered plants and sickly mortals.
You opened a heart he didn’t know he had, and he knew that night that he had fallen for you. And no matter what he does to show you, you always dismiss the fact. You don’t believe him; you don’t believe that anyone else can love you other than the man who showed you he didn’t care. The amount of rage that Namjoon showed earlier wasn’t directed towards you; it was meant for the coward trailing behind him.
It pisses Namjoon off, and he wants nothing more than to drag the bastard to the darkest chamber and make him pay. But it is not his place, and he must allow you to fight your own battles. He can’t decide for you, but he can support you.
Which is why he set the whole town into flames, with your permission of course. However, you did have one request that was hard to fulfill. “Leave him alive” is what you told Namjoon, and reluctantly he complied. That is the only reason he’d be caught dragging a piece of shit up a hill—you. He’d do anything for you.
You’re his pride and joy; the only love he’s ever had. Namjoon knows you’ll need time, and he’ll give you as much as you need. He knows you want to be by his side; even now your body is begging for his touch, but your heart is trapped in the grasp of the one who you loved before, and Namjoon is confident you have the strength to take it back. So yeah, he’ll leave the son of bitch alive for a little bit longer.
“He’s all yours, angel.” Namjoon calls out as he approaches you. He stands in front of you, observing your features, only because he just can’t get enough of being in your presence. “I’ll be standing right over here if you need me.” He whispers, kissing your cheek.
When the bloodied face of your past lover appears, you gasp loudly, your hand clutching your chest. Namjoon scoffs. “You said to bring him up here alive. I didn’t hear you say I couldn’t have a little fun on the way.” He chuckles, and you just stare at him for a moment. You look so angelic standing before him, and the flames from the burning town below highlights your beauty well. “You have five minutes with him, dear. We have somewhere to be after this.”
You turn your attention to the bruised and beaten man in front of you. He’s kneeling before you as he fucking should be. Namjoon made sure of it when he broke his legs. The demon watches as your hands come out to touch his face, and when he calls your name, a small sob escapes your lips.
“You don’t deserve this.” You cry as the tears begin to flow. Namjoon bites his tongue the best he can. How are you still able to show pity after you’ve been stepped on for so long? This isn’t the process of moving on; it’s stupidity. “I need to fix this. I’ve been hurting for too long.”
When he overhears those words, he fears the worst. You're pregnant with his child, and you’re about to give yourself to another man. You’re denying his love, but still chasing after something that isn’t real? The demon panics; he needs to express his feelings before it’s too late. If it’s not already too late. 
Maybe if he pours it all out right now it’ll make you see how much he cares, but just as he marches towards you, he sees you lean in, your lips centimeters away from the man’s face. However, instead of kissing him, you mumble something that even the demon can’t hear.
After that moment, where time seems to stop for Namjoon, you simply walk away like nothing happened, leaving the demon puzzled and confused.
“I’m ready now, Namjoon. We can go.” You inform, stepping beside him. Namjoon grabs your arm and makes you look at him, wanting answers for what just transpired. But before he can get a response, he hears the man calling out for you.
“Y/N?....Y/N!! My love? Where are you?... I need you. I love you.”
When you hear those words, you spin around angrily. Namjoon tries to stop you, but you’re too quick. “Angel, think about the baby!” he reminds you, but you ignore him. You approach your ex-lover, and he grovels, clutching onto your leg. Namjoon moves to intervene and tell him not to touch you, but you hold up your hand.
“Baby, I can’t live without you. Please…don’t go. I love you so much.” The blood-drenched male cries.
“Well, that’s–too–fucking–bad.” You reply through gritted teeth, and Namjoon smiles happily for the first time in who knows when.
You lift your dress and kick the man who broke your heart right in his gut, sending him rolling down the hill, calling out for you in vain. A satisfied smirk graces the demon’s face; now, he can focus on making you happy and treating you like you deserve to be treated. His heartfelt confession will come later, when he’s ready. He only needs to gather the right words.
“That wasn’t the punishment I had in mind, but that was beautiful, angel.” Namjoon compliments and applauds.
You shrug. “If I have to rot and waste away, then so does he. It’s only fair, right?”
The demon sighs yet again and grabs your hand, kissing it softly before speaking.
“Baby, I’ve told you countless times that I’m not about to take you to hell, especially right now.” Namjoon explains for the thousandth time. It’s frustrating how you refuse to believe him.
“And I told you that you don’t have to pretend that you love me anymore. I’ve accepted my fate.” You argue.
Namjoon can only look into your dark brown irises and allow you to believe what you want for the time being. His own tears begin to shed when he thinks about the road ahead of you. You aren’t the only one who needs some work, so does he. 
He’s prepared to do whatever it takes to make your relationship as healthy as it can be. You’ll all be happy; he’ll make sure of it. You and his child are his world, and he’ll protect you at all costs. No matter what, he’s going to make you happy. You deserve it.
He can’t promise you an afterlife in heaven, but he can treat you like a queen during your time on Earth and actually make you one when you join him in hell. But the demon needs to earn your trust first and he’s more than willing to do so.
“I’m not pretending, angel. And I’ll prove it.” He assures, opening another portal in the Earth. You look at him questionably, and Namjoon explains. “I’m going to take you somewhere, and I know you’ll love it. Trust me.” He promises, guiding you to the opening.
“Thank you for all of this, Namjoon. It really means a lot to me.” You say, still not believing the demon’s promises of paradise.
Instead of arguing, Namjoon turns to you and smiles. “Anything to keep you shining brightly, my little light.” He jokes, making you giggle, and it’s the sweetest thing Namjoon ever heard. That was his first time hearing you laugh, and it warms his heart. He’d like to hear it some more when you get to where you’re going.  “Are you ready to go, angel?”
When you nod, the demon holds your hand securely and proceeds to enter the pit of darkness with you in tow. You clutch onto him in fear as he jumps inside, expecting an eternity of pain and suffering. But what is really lying on the other side is a life of peace and happiness for you. Along with an entire world waiting for you to discover it, just as Namjoon promised.
You no longer have to search for love...love has found you.
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  Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story please consider liking, reblogging or leaving feedback. Also, feel free check out my masterlist, here.
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ilikemesometaetaes · 16 days ago
Text
Kisses of Graphite (M)
Jeon Jungkook Oneshot
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•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​
•••> Summary: He drew you to life. It’s as simple as that.
•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader
•••> Word Count: 14.38k [Unedited]
•••> Rating: 18+
•••> Tags: smut | angst | Artist!Jungkook | Drawing!Reader | Angst | SadBoi!Jungkook | s2l | 
•••> Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, noona kink (although reader is younger. I promise, it’ll make sense), masturbation (Kook), exhibitionism?, sense of helplessness, Jungkook feels empty and numb, mention/fictitious use of Wicca by Hobi, cursing, instant love, tortured love, oral (f and m receiving), mention of cheating, depression, angst, fluff?
Tagging @missgeniality @jimilter and @ressjeon for personal reasons.
Copyright © 2021 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.
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You opened your eyes for the first time in his room. Well, for better words, you simply came to be in his room. You didn’t need to raise your eyelids or blink away unwanted blurriness. Your vision suddenly just… was.
You fixed your permanent stare on his face, watching as he stuck his tongue into his cheek and quirked an eyebrow. At your first experience in the world, you tried to mirror his expression by quirking your own eyebrow, only to discover that you had no other features to manipulate. 
You were eyes. Just eyes.
He didn’t take long on your eyes at first, simply doodling them onto the paper to establish your presence on the parchment. A little shading for your irises and a few delicate strokes around the rims to give you eyelashes that you would never bat were the product of a short ten minutes. He paid special attention to your pupils though, adding extra reflections of light from an unknown source on top of them. If you could squint to keep the light out of your eyes, you would.
He stopped at your eyes after the first session when he concluded it by sitting back in is chair. You couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t understand him. Didn’t know who he was. To be honest, you didn’t care. All you knew was that you loved him from the first time you… opened your eyes.
You couldn’t tell what color his eyes were. They were almost black to your colorblind perception. This led you to the assumption that they were brown- beautiful brown eyes.
His eyebrows were sharp and expressive, furrowed in on their center of emotional attention. He had a small mole below his lip, one on his nose, and a few scattered on his cheeks, dotting his skin with beauty marks that you instantly adored. His hair was long and black, covering his eyes after he took it out of the small ponytail he wore when you first saw him. He pushed the strands out of his face and was just barely able to manage nudging them into the crevice behind his ears. All in all, he was beauty and he was perfection. You didn't need to see any other human to know that he was perfect.
He came back to you the day after he established your eyes with headphones in his ears, a determined look twisting his lips into a soft scowl of focus, and you felt the first licks of excitement vibrating your pupils- except, they didn’t actually move. In fact, you couldn’t move at all.
Your eyebrows were quick to form, a mere six minutes to shape, and he drew your right one with a permanent quirk that gave you the suggestive look of the expectation you felt in anticipation of what he would form next.
The scent of him was, for lack of a better word, perfect. You’d never smelled anything before, but when he curved his pencil around the tip of your nose and formed a distinct, left nostril, you could smell him. You figured that he smelled like rain and mineral- petrichor, a word you just so happened to know. How did you know this word?
You expected the man to stop there after remembering his brief burst of energy to create you the day prior, but to your surprise, he continued. A slight stroke there and a curve of his pencil there and suddenly, you had a chin and cheeks. With each stroke that placed more detail into your skin, you developed qualities like a human and developed experiences.
You didn’t particularly like children too much. You scrunched up your nose when you got frustrated or upset. You picked at your nails when you got nervous. Although you knew that you had never actually done these actions before, each time he placed his pencil down with emotion in his artistry, you slowly came to life.
He touched you with his hand for the first time, brushing his thumb over the freshly drawn line of your jaw. You imagined fluttering your eyelashes at his soft touch yet you were promptly reminded that you couldn’t fucking move.
The shading produced by his thumb dragging across the paper gave you direction after dictating where the lighting finally came from. Obviously, you faced away from it and cocked your head a little to avoid getting the light directly in your eyes. He made you into a head facing slightly to the right, but for him, you were looking left. Towards his door.
He formed your ears next, odd little shapes and all, before erasing them and scratching them in again. Once he formed the crevices inside them, you could hear him.
The soft whir of his space heater. The creaking of his chair as he shifted in it. The soft inhales and exhales of air into his lungs as he quietly hummed along with the tune playing in his ears. Was that Justin Bieber?
Wait. Who is Justin Bieber?
You lay on the paper, confused for the life of you by how you seemed to spontaneously know things that you had never experienced in your short lifespan of a single day. For this to make sense, you needed an explanation, however, you couldn’t speak.
You had no mouth.
He avoided your mouth as he continued with the rest of you, stroking your hair onto your head and wrinkling slight crinkles next to your eyes. You heard his humming stop as he completed your face without drawing in your mouth. Why did he avoid your mouth?
You were almost completed by the third day, assumed from the way he would spend more time adding details to your features. A small scar, centered on the edge of where your bottom lip would be. A bit of smudged eyeliner on your left eye. A cross earring dangling from your right earlobe. You loved how much attention he paid to developing you.
But you hated that he still had yet to draw your mouth.
You wanted to speak to him. You wanted to tell him how much you appreciated and loved him. Your stock-still image begged to cradle his cheek- despite your lack of hands- to tell him that you were there for him. You wanted him to know that you found it adorable when he noodled around on his guitar and that you loved his passion for Justin Bieber songs- a passion that extended to the looping of My World 2.0, Purpose, and Justice for nine hours straight one day.
In the week or so following your creation, you’d learned a few things about the one who drew you on top of the things you learned about yourself.
He liked listening to grunge music when he wasn’t listening to Justin Bieber, a vast genre switch that took you off guard at first. He also preferred to listen to the grunge music over his speakers as he read page after page of a novel in his bed rather than use the headphones he usually went with when he worked on you.
He preferred to keep his hair tucked under a headband or hat when he was lounging. You noticed his annoyance with the long locks that strayed onto his forehead when he sat in his bed and wrote or doodled in another journal. Briefly, you wondered if any of his other drawings were sentient like you. Somehow, you knew you weren’t supposed to be. A drawing possessing thoughts was extremely out of the ordinary.
Sometimes, he studied hard at his desk. You watched him thumb through thousands of words of information and scribble down notes in his notebook before he left for classes. You mourned the times he left like a dog, impatiently anticipating his return. In retrospect, it was quite pathetic.
Sometimes, he’d bring someone over. You studied the ones he allowed in his private space with curious eyes. They would look at you briefly and compliment your creator on his skill and you imagined that you’d bristle with pride under the compliments. Through his guests, you learned that your creator’s name was Kook. Thanks to Yoongi, it only took you four days to hear your artist’s name.
“What do you have here, Kook?”
With a featherlight touch, the white-haired man’s index finger traced the edges of your page. You felt the paper shift just slightly on the rings of your journal as he nudged it. Anytime the man looked at your eyes, all you could see were the dark orbs that stared back. When he looked away, you saw the entirety of the room and your creator, Kook, rummaging around in his bag.
“Just a doodle.” Your creator’s voice was particularly deep and you grew to appreciate him even more because of it. His voice was golden and warm. It nearly matched the lowness of the man he conversed with.
“Well, she’s beautiful.”
Kook seemed to stare straight into your eyes as he removed his attention from the task at hand.
“Yeah,” He mumbled. “She is.”
Your paper heart phantomly swelled at the praise, happy to be something your creator was proud of.
The other man backed away from you and continued to move back until he sat on the bed. When Kook looked away from you and you were forced to look at the other again, you imagined sighing in disappointment.
“Does she have a name? And why haven’t you given her lips?” The man cocked his head at you. You were eager to hear the answer, thankful for his unconscious help.
“Not yet. I’m not ready for that yet.”
“Why?”
Your creator was silent for a moment as he stared at you again. The frown on his face made you worried.
“Yoongi, do you ever feel like you’ve made a mistake but it’s too late to try and undo it?”
Were you a mistake? Did he believe he messed up somehow? Even with the new stress, you keenly awaited the rest of the conversation.
Yoongi sighed and sat back in the bed after placing a pillow against the wall.
“All the time.” He replied. After a beat, he spoke again. “Is that what this is about? It’s her?”
Kook looked to the floor and clasped his hands together in thought. You watched Yoongi sit up to place a hand on your creator’s shoulder with a look of mild concern.
“Yeah,” Kook muttered. There was finality in his voice. “It’s her.”
You didn’t mind that you didn’t have a name. Frankly, you were happy to be recognized as Kook’s product of artful expertise. All that mattered was that something was bothering him and you couldn’t help.
You didn’t know what the two men had talked about that day, but it seemed to trigger something in Kook that scared you.
A woman came to his room the next night. You could smell the alcohol on him as he stumbled through his door behind her and began ushering her towards his bed. She laughed and giggled, obviously inebriated by the way she swayed whilst trying her best to remove her dress.
Kook did not laugh with her, though. Instead, his face was expressionless. He didn’t waste time shedding his clothes and moved her to lay on his bed. You watched him kiss her and take hungry handfuls of her ass while she struggled to take off her underwear.
“Don’t bother.” He told her. “This’ll be quick.”
The woman paused for a moment under his touch but didn’t have time to say anything when he slid her panties to the side and slipped a finger into her. She arched her back instantly and you stared at the two of them jealously.
Kook didn’t take any of his clothes off. He simply undid the button and zipper of his pants and pulled them down to let his erection spring free.
You felt ashamed for watching them, but what were you to do? You couldn’t close your eyes or shield them with a hand. You were left motionless as you unwillingly watched Kook thrust himself into the woman on his bed.
Although Kook was drunk, his movements seemed to be fast and rough. The woman had signaled her orgasm several times before Kook managed to slow down and take a breath. You could tell that she was uncomfortably sensitive by the fortieth minute of their bodies tangling with each other.
“I need a break.” The woman gasped. “Can you give me like ten minutes? I was expecting you to have cum by now.”
“Yeah,” Kook breathed with furrowed eyebrows, seemingly dumfounded. “I was too.”
He pulled away from her and sat at the edge of his bed while the woman collected herself and went to the bathroom to freshen up. All Kook did while he waited was stare at you.
You imagined you’d be nervous under his gaze, trying to avoid his dark eyes after just having seen the entire display of him fucking another woman, but he seemed to keep his eyes unwaveringly on yours. You briefly wondered what he was thinking about as his dick lay pulsing beneath his unzipped pants.
The door to the bathroom opened and the woman came out, her hair fixed and her body seemingly put together a little bit more. She was ready to crawl back into bed when he stopped her.
“I think that’s enough.” He said monotonously. “It’d probably be best if you left.”
She scoffed and stared at him incredulously. “Really? But you haven’t cum yet.”
He sighed, standing up to lead her to the door. “Yeah, I know. I think I have some things to sort out.”
“Well, alright then.” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and started exiting his room. “Good luck.”
He was at least respectful enough to walk her out of his apartment.
When he returned, he didn’t get undressed. Rather than clean himself up and turn in for the night, he sat on the edge of his bed and resumed his stare into your eyes. For a moment, it seemed as if he would speak to you.
The room was awfully silent. He stopped turning on his space heater days ago because of how much warmer it was getting outside. There was no precipitation to patter against his window and fill the empty silence with background. It was so quiet that you could actually hear him breathing from across the room.
“What the fuck am I doing?” He mumbled to himself. Then, he slid a hand up his leg.
Your eyes were hungry as you watched his fingers trace over the material and your imagination ran wild at the things you wished to do for him. You loved him, unconditionally, and wanted to do anything to make sure he knew that- felt that.
He removed his shirt like he did any other day, revealing the tattooed and toned chest that you saw whenever he changed shirts. His hair got mussed when he pulled the t-shirt over his head.
Then, he sat back on an elbow and placed his hand on his stomach all the while maintaining his trance on your eyes. Lightly, he trailed his inked fingers lower and slid them over the ridges of his abdominal muscles before snaking them into his undone pants.
Kook grabbed himself at his base and maneuvered his dick to escape the confines of his clothing again, but what shocked you even more was when his eyes didn’t break away from you as he began to stroke himself.
If you could move, you’d do all that he did and more, wishing to worship his body both in ardor and thanks. You were grateful for the opportunity he gave you to think for yourself and you were thankful for the care he put into creating you- even if you didn’t have a mouth. In addition to your hopeless devotion to the man, you were irrevocably in love with him.
“Oh, noona.” He groaned, closing his eyes and twisting his wrist a certain way. With a swipe of his thumb, he smeared the precum that drooled from his tip over the head. In a situation like this, you figured your mouth would go dry and you’d need to lick your lips to wet them again. Was this what it felt like to be burning with thirst?
You wanted to encourage him on. Ask him if he liked it. Ask him if he wanted more and tell him how well he was doing. He was your love and he was perfection as he flexed his bicep to slide up and down his length.
Kook pursed his lips and then bit into the bottom one as you wished to do, and it is then that you realized he had drawn you to have these wants and desires.
He came with a growled curse, orgasm rippling through his body as several spurts of his cum landed on his chest. You eyed the fluid curiously, wondering what it would taste like if you licked it off his skin to show him your appreciation.
Kook stood from the bed carefully and padded over to the bathroom. Shortly after, you heard the shower turn on. You were left listening to him as you processed what had just happened.
Did he know you were watching him? You tried to wrap your head around the sentiment several times but came to no solid conclusion. There were two possibilities; either he knew you were watching and jerked himself off to show you that he knew, or, he had just touched himself to the thought of a picture.
When Kook reemerged, fresh and clean with hair still dripping a little onto his shoulders, you noticed something wrong about him. His posture was slumped and his head hung lowly with his chin almost touching his chest. There was no energy in him anymore. Was he tired?
He laid himself into his bed and pulled the covers over his body, only to whimper softly to the quietude of his room. You were shocked to find that he began to cry.
Without the lights on, you couldn’t see much. You could see his figure, a lump in his blanket, and you could see his arm folded over the black material as it curled into the pillow he held to his chest. All you knew was that he whimpered and sniffled for about twenty minutes before he became silent and his breathing evened out.
He cried himself to sleep.
The days following were filled with gloom. Kook didn’t even come near you. He avoided your eyes like the plague- the plague?- and kept to the other side of the room.
For about a week, Kook didn’t even look at you. He even had the nerve to put another sheet of paper over you to prevent you from seeing him. It didn’t prevent you from hearing him, though.
He cried most nights and stressfully mumbled to himself on others. With white over your eyes, you’d grown to judge his actions by the sounds he made.
Then, one day, something changed. Again.
You heard his apartment door swing open and shut with a thump, much different from the quiet and slow manner he usually did, and rushed into his room. He took the paper off of your face with a start, heaving with breath as if he had just run the entire way home from wherever he was.
“There you are, baby.”
You could cry at the way he breathed the sentence, caressing the pet name into your ears like a sailor reuniting with his other half after months at sea, and studied the new him like it was the first time you had ever seen him.
His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him those few days ago and a piercing sat perched on his right brow, reddening the skin to prove that it was as fresh as a few hours old.
Kook pulled up the chair to sit in front of you with a look of determination crinkling his brows. You watched with fascination as the piercing shifted in his flesh a little.
“I’m going to finish you now. Hobi told me that it would actually work.”
For a moment, you wondered what he was talking about and who Hobi was. Whoever the man was, he seemed to incite the inspiration back into Kook’s fingers as he picked up his pencil and got to work on you once more.
With each passing second, you were overjoyed to find that he was finally drawing your lips. Kook held his pencil with such care that you thought he feared it would break. It lightly rested on his middle finger and between his index finger and thumb while he began his first few lines of your top lip. Again, with each stroke, you developed new experiences.
You liked to sit in your car to watch thunderstorms. You despised dubstep music. You loved strawberry shortcake rolls and sushi.
By the time he moved to shape your bottom lip, you were headed to the pits of desire.
You liked to bite and suck on his lip. You preferred to leave hickeys rather than receive them. You loved it when he buried his face into your folds and when he took you over the desk.
The qualities you developed were all his own and they became every facet of your being by the time he got to shading in your lips. You couldn’t look away from him even if you tried.
The tattoos on Kook’s hands were right in your face. With every new trait that you gained to your personality, you came to wonder more and more what it would feel like to kiss the top of each knuckle and glide your fingers up the expanse of inked art in his skin.
You finally felt complete when you gained sensation in your lips. With a small smirk, Kook sketched in a chain around your neck adorned with a small ‘J.’ You didn’t know what it meant, however, you were thankful for the extra amount of bling nonetheless.
Then, he opened a drawer and picked out a pack of colored pencils. You were ecstatic to find that he was going to give you color.
He used a dark color first, taking it to the paper as he did with his original pencil in his fingertips. You couldn’t tell what color it was as you only saw in black and white but as soon as he placed the first stroke down, though, you saw his eyes.
Beautiful, brown eyes. Wide with focus and warm with emotion of artistry. You felt as if you were seeing him for the first time and you were in love with him then, yet again.
Kook pulled his tongue between his teeth as he continued coloring you and you watched in wonder as his room suddenly came to life with color.
His bed was truly black, black blankets and black pillows making for a mood-setter that the room surrounded. His walls were a dark blue, almost black, and it brought out the light color of the shelves and objects placed on top of them.
His speaker that played the grunge music was silver. His guitar was a dark caramel. His book bag was, as you expected, black. The man seemed to love everything dark and black and you adored it.
Of course, with his taste in color, he colored in the jacket that you wore as black too. It was a simple hoodie that sat unzipped across your chest. It contrasted starkly to the white tank top that he left over your breasts.
Kook sat back with finality again and looked at you like you were the world. You imagined you’d blush even more than the light shading of pink he put on your cheeks.
Lowly, he spoke to you.
“Okay, love. I’m going to try this now.”
He picked up your journal for the first time and held you in his hands. You could see the hesitation in his eyes for whatever he was about to do. He blinked robotically and sat up straight, an instinct to “reset” his mind to make it open.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook.” He winced.
He gave you a name.
Your name was yours. It was meant to be yours. As you took in the fact that he had finally given you a name, you realized that it was your name all along. You were always Y/N. You were her from the first time you saw him. In the countless hours and days that you lived on his paper in his room, you were always meant to be his Y/N.
His name was Jungkook. You’d gone weeks believing that he was Kook, but the revelation of his full name made you understand that it was just a nickname. Your creator was Jungkook and you loved him. You had loved him since the day you were made.
When nothing more happened and he continued to stare at you, he huffed with frustration and repeated his sentence again.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook.” You weren’t sure why he had said it again. To be honest, you weren’t sure why he was speaking to you at all. You were just a drawing to him.
A few seconds passed before he was muttering under his breath. “That motherfucker lied to me.”
He stood from his chair angrily and you couldn’t help but feel like you had failed him somehow. What was he trying to do? You felt helpless.
Jungkook picked up his phone and scrolled for a moment with exasperation clear in the way he scrunched up his nose. After tapping a few times, he held the phone to his ear.
You heard the line ring lowly. After four rings, the person on the other end picked up. The greeting of the other person was hardly audible.
“You’re a fucking liar, Hoseok.” There was venom in Jungkook’s voice. You had never experienced anger from him before and the new emotion did not belong on him. You hated this ‘Hoseok’ person for making him angry.
After a few beats of the indistinct rambling from the person on the other end, Jungkook replied again.
“Nothing happened. Nothing at all.”
Silence followed before he continued.
“I did exactly what you told me to do. I did it twice.”
Faintly, you heard the words, ‘Are you sure?’
“Yes, I’m sure, you dick.” Jungkook laughed incredulously. “I can’t believe I actually fell for it.”
Without letting the other person respond, Jungkook hung up and tossed his phone on the bed. Then, he stalked over to you with a look on his face that would’ve sent shivers down your spine if you could produce physical movement.
In one swift movement, your creator picked your journal up and snapped it closed, encasing you in the blackness that was the cover. You couldn’t see anything anymore. You could only hear.
You felt him carry you a few steps before you were ultimately squished tightly into something. You tried with everything you could to shift around and move due to the uncomfortable circumstance but, to no avail, you still couldn’t fucking move.
You figured he would have another bout of not being able to look at you for a few days, so you patiently waited for the day when he would finally open you back up again. You knew that he loved you because of the feeling he put in to creating you, so there was no way he could stay away for long.
You waited for days, used to the sentiment of waiting for him to overcome his emotions, yet it only seemed to get worse.
You lived out your days within your closed sketchbook and assumed he put you on the bookshelf where he placed all of his old textbooks that he never used anymore. You were used to the tightness by the time the first month in your tight space passed. You didn’t mind. He would come back to take you out soon.
Except, he didn’t.
A month turned into two months and two months turned into six. You heard him continue his every day life without you for so long that you got used to his schedule.
He’d wake up early in the morning, go for a run, shower and eat breakfast, go to school- or work, you didn’t know- and then come back to change and lounge in his apartment. Sometimes, he brought someone over to try and satisfy the imminent need for sexual pleasure as a human, however, they would never stay the night and he left each encounter sounding even more empty than the last.
On many nights, he cried into his pillow. His sobs would tear you to pieces as they were muffled for no one even remotely close to hear. You wanted to hold him close to your chest and run your fingers through his hair and whisper that he had you and that he wasn’t alone. Your entire existence came to be because of him and you felt the guilt begin to creep in from the notion that you maybe you took away everything he had left.
What truly scared you, though, was when he stopped crying after about a year of you not seeing him.
Jungkook went silent. You no longer heard him listening to Justin Bieber. He didn’t play grunge music over his speakers anymore. He stopped humming meaningless tunes to himself when you figured he was studying. It seemed that he had finally found content with the emptiness he was undoubtedly suffering and that was what terrified you the most. Helplessly, you sat on his bookshelf and listened to him lose himself to the throes of time.
Before you knew it, two years of not being able to see nor comfort him passed and you were beginning to feel the dull edges of life without Jungkook, taking away what kept you into being.
Two years and eight months of listening to Jungkook live his life as he tried to find a spark of happiness later, you resorted to only hearing parts of his life. It wasn’t that you had control over when you listened and didn’t listen- truthfully, you would’ve stopped listening to him ages ago if you could- but it was that your conscious went dark for certain periods of time. You had no way to gauge how long you were out because you could only hear your creator doing the same things over and over again when you came back.
Then, he was moving. How long had it been since you had been created? Three years, perhaps? Five? You would have had a better chance at knowing had you not been fading in and out of existence.
You came back to men coming into his apartment to gather things and leave with them. You heard Jungkook take his bed apart and tell the men that they could take it to the truck. He sighed as he grabbed pencils and belongings to shove into what you figured to be boxes.
The bookshelf you sat on was the last place he needed to clear out.
“Are we taking all of these to the truck? You’ll probably need another box for that.”
You were suddenly hyperaware that Jungkook may have been looking at your journal as the men referenced your resting place. You anxiously awaited his response.
“Nah. I think I’m going to donate them. I have no need for college textbooks anymore. Can’t even sell them ‘cause most of them are out of date.” You heard the frown in his voice. “I will be needing a box though.”
“Gotcha.” One of the men said.
You were forgotten. It was undeniable by that point that Jungkook was ready to toss you away. Any hope you had of finally seeing him again was lost with his words. You outlived your time with him by using hope to drive you forward. Now that you had no hope, the same as your creator, you let it go.
With a final thought of content with the emptiness, just as Jungkook had achieved years prior, you faded into nothingness.
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A warm exhale brushed against your skin. Not your skin- your paper. You were being yanked out of the darkness incredibly fast and your vision was filled with bright light.
“This is her?” Someone asked.
“In the graphite.” Another replied.
“Dude, you’re not funny.”
His laugh was familiar. “I’d like to think I am.”
You stared at a ceiling and, for the first time, you were having difficulty processing the things around you. Was this a store?
Two men stood above you, one looking down at you the right way and one just within sight, upside down.
“She’s gorgeous.” The one with blonde hair said.
The one that was upside down smiled, his eyebrow piercing shifting in his flesh, yet his smile didn’t reach his eyes. You were slow to remember how you knew him.
“She was my dream girl, once upon a time.” He sighed.
“Don’t give me that ‘once upon a time’ bullshit. It’s only been a few years, hasn’t it?”
“A little over five since you gave the journal to me.”
“Poor thing.” The blonde one said. “She’s been stuck in there that whole time, Kook?”
Kook. The name triggered something within you and you struggled to remember just what the name meant to you.
“I…” Kook trailed off. “… I guess she has…”
The blonde leaned down to inspect you closer than he did before. “What’s her name?”
“I called her Y/N.” The name sparked a distant memory, reminding you of a past you had long forgotten over the course of your time in the shading.
“Y/N,” The blonde repeated. “What a perfect name for her.”
Kook rotated you so that he was facing you, the blonde becoming upside down in the process.
“She was perfect, Hobi. I was very proud of her.” Kook muttered as he stared down at you. His brown eyes were so familiar yet you couldn’t place where you knew them from.
Within your bounds of paper, something simmered; you felt the hum of things unknown stirring your insides with his compliment.
“How old were you when you made her?” Hobi tilted his head at you. “She looks like she’s a bit older than you were when I gave it to you.”
Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes with a wince. “At the time, I pictured her as my noona. No more than three years my senior at most.”
The blonde chuckled. “Oh? Is this a noona kink I hear?”
“Fuck off. I was nineteen and young. You can’t blame me for being into older women back then.”
“Well, it looks like it worked against you, Kook.” Hobi replied. “She’s younger than you now.”
Instead of responding, Jungkook settled on rolling his eyes at the other man.
After a few moments of staring at you, the blonde man spoke again. “You know the words, right?”
“Remind me.”
“Hi, Y/N. I’m ‘state your name.’”
Kook sighed and looked at you while Hobi held your journal in place.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook.”
Suddenly, you remembered everything.
The sorrow. The pain. The longing. The loneliness. You felt it all at once whilst you remembered the years you had experienced Jungkook’s emotions firsthand. As you struggled against the confines of your paper prison, you were terribly reminded that, yet again, you still couldn’t fucking move after all this time.
“She’s got some life in her.” Hobi remarked. Your efforts ceased in shock- he knew that you were conscious?
Jungkook looked up at him in annoyance. “What?”
“She’s practically vibrating the page. I couldn’t feel her before, but now? It’s fucking crazy.” Hobi touched a thumb to your forehead soothingly and spoke up as if he was addressing you. “Don’t you worry, love. We’ll get you out.”
You paused for a moment and processed what the blonde had just said. They’ll… get you out?
“She’s been sleeping for so long that she’s particularly weak. I can’t imagine how awful it was for her.” Hobi said. He left your vision for a moment and you were left staring into the hopeful brown eyes of your creator. Emotion swam within them as the both of you waited for what was to come.
Suddenly, the room went dark. The only light that you saw was from a candle in the far corner of the room. It shed shadows on Jungkook’s face that brought out the best of his features.
“Why’d you turn off the lights?”
Hobi returned to you and framed your journal with his hands again. “She’s a drawn person and all that is her resides in the shading you gave her. She needs shade to manifest.”
“Bro, I’m not gonna lie,” Jungkook backed away slightly with hesitation evident in his eyes. “This sounds like some witchcraft shit.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with witchcraft,” Hobi chided. “It’s not. It’s Wicca.”
“Wicca?” Jungkook questioned and cocked his pierced brow again.
“I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s get this poor girl out of here first. I need you to fix her up if you have anything to fix.”
Hobi handed a pencil to your artist, smiling softly as he took it from his grasp.
“I swear to god, Hobi,” Jungkook grabbed onto his outstretched arm. “If you’re just fucking with me, I will actually cut you off. Like, forever.”
“Why would I lie to you about something like this? I know how important this is to you.”
“I know, I know…” He replied. He sighed heavily and let his head hang down for a moment. “I’ve just been through enough of the bullshit, you know?”
“I know, bro. I know. I’d never do that to you. We’re brothers for a reason, aren’t we?” Hobi placed his hand on the other’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.
The two men remained silent for a moment. The blonde stared at the brunette with care and worry in his eyes while the brunette closed his own eyes and took another breath in an attempt to relax himself.
You waited patiently for your creator, knowing how heavily he suffered from his emotions. You didn’t know why he had been so sad for the past few years, but you wanted to be able to help him through them so that he didn’t cry himself to sleep ever again. You hated that you couldn’t help him before, but if you even had the slightest chance to relieve him of his worries, you’d lay down everything you had.
“Let’s do this.”
Jungkook paused. “What am I doing that’s different from last time? Surely, just repeating it won’t change anything.”
“Well,” Hobi dropped his hand. “This time, I need you to cry.”
The room was silenced at the weight of Hobi’s words. It seemed that Jungkook was just as shocked as you.
“You need me to… cry?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Hobi sighed and shook his head. “Because your emotions are what give her power.”
“Dude,” Jungkook said almost immediately. “She shouldn’t even have power. Why is it that she gets power from my emotions? Why wouldn’t she have power from someone else’s emotions? And-“ Jungkook stopped looking at Hobi to look at you. “Why does she get power from emotions?”
“Stop asking questions and cry, you fucking bonehead.”
Your creator spluttered in disbelief, widening his eyes. “Well, I don’t know how to cry just like that. I can’t cry on command like you can, you asshole.”
“I’m not telling you to cry on command, Jungkook. I need emotion from you.” Hobi turned to look at you with concerned eyes. “Crying on command won’t release any emotion because it’s fake. I need something real from you, so, unless you can give me pure happiness or something else as pure as how much a sad boy you are, Y/N won’t be going anywhere.”
You processed what the two were saying, trying to understand how Jungkook actually gave you power by being sad. Even as you struggled to wrap your head around the concept, you somehow knew that you were the most perceptive when Jungkook was emotional.
“Let’s start at the root of why you’re sad.”
Jungkook turned to look at Hobi again. Even in the paper and anxiously awaiting your emergence from it, you looked to the brunette curiously. You’d always wondered why he was sad. If he was about to reveal it now, you were all ears.
“Well…” Jungkook lost volume and hesitated, looking at the blonde again.
“Don’t tell me-” Hobi grabbed the man by his shoulders and rotated him to face you. Jungkook widened his eyes. “-Tell her.”
The artist sucked in a breath as he connected his eyes with yours. You were ready.
“Lena.” He seemed to struggle with his words. “She let me down.”
“How’d she let you down?”
“She cheated.”
You imagined that you’d frown at the information. Who, in their right mind, would cheat on such a wonderful and precious man as him? The anger you felt towards Lena only increased the more you thought about it.
“How long were you guys together?” Hobi asked, although, by the tone in his voice, he seemed to already know the answer.
Jungkook’s breathing seemed to waver before he spoke. “Five years.”
Briefly, in the short moment he looked away from you, you saw the reflection of the candle on a building tear in his eye.
The blonde lowered his head slightly and narrowed his gaze on the artist. “How long had she been cheating on you for?”
“Four.”
You were shocked to your core. After all this time, the pain was still very real for Jungkook. You saw the familiar crease in his chin as he held himself back from revealing everything.
“So, tell me,” Hobi said. “It’s been five years, right? Why haven’t you moved on?”
“I did!” Jungkook defended, lip trembling. “It just became impossibly difficult to make a connection like that again.”
Hobi fell silent for a moment and spread his lips into a thin line. You knew how Hobi felt, knowing this information yet being unable to do anything about it, and thanked whoever watched over Jungkook that the blonde was in his life.
“Look, I know how you feel,” Hobi said. “but-”
Jungkook cut him off.
“Do you? Do you know how it feels to get your heart ripped out and then never returned? Fuck, man,” The man ran his fingers through his hair. “I feel like I haven’t been able to feel at home or comfortable in my own skin in ages. I hate who I’ve become and who I’m becoming. I hate that I can’t feel and I hate that I’m numb all the time. I thought it’d be better than feeling all of that pain. But,”
Jungkook sniffled and exhaled heavily, voice cracking. “I was dead wrong. This is so much worse. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore.”
Finally, a tear slipped from Jungkook’s eye. It streamed down his cheek slowly, mournfully, and drew a glistening line down his skin. You tried, with everything you had, to reach a hand out of your paper prison to wipe it from his face but it only became frustrating when you couldn’t. You couldn’t care for him or love him the way you wanted to and you loathed your existence for being such a helpless drag.
As if in a hurry, Hobi ushered him closer to you. You didn’t know if it was good that Jungkook finally cried with emotion or if it was terribly awful to see the product of his relentless pain. Instead of worrying about it, you waited for the blonde’s next move.
He raised his hand to your creator’s face and swiped a finger under a fresh teardrop, letting it hang from his fingertip. Then, he put his finger right over your chest and let the tear drop to the paper.
For the first time, you felt a sensation other than the touch of a finger to your paper skin; you felt wetness. You felt actual, tangible pain. Agony. Heartache. Loss.
And love. Real, heartwarming, ethereal love.
Your chest caved and your bones shuddered- your bones shuddered- and you felt the undeniable sensation of gut-wrenching warmth in your body.
Then, you blinked. And then, you blinked again.
Jungkook’s body continued to tremble as he turned away from you. You physically furrowed your eyebrows at the action despite your shock from your spontaneous ability to actually fucking move.
Hobi watched you intently with a growing smile on his face. You were thankful for his attention, scared of what was happening to you and in need of someone to anchor to. Your chest continued to cave and it was becoming increasingly harder to see past the brightening light in your eyes.
Your vision went white all at once, but not before you faintly heard Hobi mutter a low ‘Oh shit.’
Everything ceased. You couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t see anything. Any sensation you felt before was suddenly gone to the overbearing luminescence of the whiteness. The terror in your blood set in at the possibility that maybe this is what death was like.
Then, your fingers tingled. And your toes. And your knees creaked. And your heart started beating.
And then your back was slamming into something. Hard.
Air failed to come to you as you tried to take your first breath. You didn’t realize your eyes were closed until you opened them in your struggle to the darkness of the room.
You were on the floor, that much was certain by the way Hobi and Jungkook looked down at you with wide, surprised eyes. You groaned lowly in pain and Jungkook staggered back.
“Impossible.” He whispered.
Instead of continuing the silence, Hobi spoke up. “Hello there, Y/N. Nice of you to join us.”
You coughed as you tried to speak for the first time, unused to actually using your vocal cords. “Hobi?”
“I knew you were in there.” The blonde smiled and kneeled down to help you stand. Although it was a foreign sensation, you managed to stand on two feet. “Very nice to meet you, love. My actual name is Hoseok.”
“Nice to meet you.” Your throat was dry as you returned the sentiment.
After a beat spent leaning into Hoseok’s arms and looking at the table you had just broken, you turned your eyes to Jungkook, unsure of how to go about the fact that you could actually move, and found him frozen with his back to the wall.
“J-” You stuttered with the disbelief of the fact that you were finally made of flesh weighing down your tongue. “-Jungkook?”
Although your memories were fake, implanted by his emotional intentions, the feelings associated with him were real. You never actually went out on coffee dates with him, but he had imagined them when he drew you. You never actually spent days cuddled with him on his bed while you binged The Mandalorian, but it was what he had always wanted to do when he drew a small section of your hair. You never kissed him nor touched him, but when he made you, he gave those imaginary creations to you so that you could live your life within his imagination.
Your feelings for him were real and so were his for you. You knew it to be true.
Instead of addressing your presence, the brunette turned to face Hoseok. “Is this real? Like, is this happening right now?”
“It’s as real as it gets, Kook.”
Ever so slowly, your creator pushed himself off of the wall and approached you. A look of bewilderment controlled his features, but even then, there was a hint of hope in his eyes.
“Noo- Y/N,” He tripped over his words. You could just barely suppress your smile at the slip up. “You’re… real.”
You could only whisper in confirmation. “I’m real, Kook.”
Your statement seemed to be the only thing he needed to rush forward and encase you in his embrace. Just as you thought, it surrounded you with the smell of rain and mineral. Another note in his aroma sent your mind reeling, though, and you couldn’t place it. You had never smelled anything like it before, containing the slightest amount of salt and a certain sweetness, but you couldn’t tell what it was.
Without waiting another moment, you raised your arms and wrapped one around his waist, squeezing gently as his body trembled, and raised the other to the back of his head to cradle it in your grasp. His hair felt like silk beneath your fingers and his arms felt like the epitome of home. Jungkook sighed against your neck and dug his nose into your shoulder, taking a long inhale.
For the first time, you truly felt the heat of his body and the love in his heart. You glowed with energy, feeling your being become alight with the vigorous need to protect him and never let him go.
“Would you guys like for me to give you a ride home?” Hoseok asked after a moment. You had honestly forgotten that he was still in the room.
Jungkook froze in his hold. The action made it a little obvious that he had forgotten the other man’s presence too. Despite his inherent surprise, your creator was the first one to answer.
“No, it’s okay. It’s not far. We can walk.” Jungkook pulled away to speak to his friend, yet his eyes never left you. There was something strange in his stare that you weren’t expecting. Although his emotions were usually easy to read, the one you noticed didn’t make any sense.
Unease. The slight wrinkle above his eyebrow and the clench of his jaw was evidence enough of the doubt he felt.
“Then get out of my shop.” Hoseok walked over to turn the lights back on. “I was supposed to be closed twenty minutes ago.”
Jungkook tugged on your hand before you could comment any further.
With a rushed ‘thank you!’ and a small, knowing smile from Hoseok in response, you were exiting the glass doors into the humid heat of the summer night’s air.
You only walked for about ten seconds before you couldn’t take the silence. You had been silent for too long.
“Jungkook, I love you.”
The man’s hand tightened around your fingers and you reveled in the sensation despite it being a little painful. You could feel it. That was all that mattered.
“I- Y/N-“ He grit his teeth and pulled you closer to his side. “You aren’t even supposed to actually exist. We need to figure things out first.”
You were quick to meet his hesitation with honest reassurance. “We can, but we don’t need to figure out the fact that I love you. I do love you. So much.”
Jungkook stopped walking and turned to face you. “Y/N, you don’t know me. You can’t love me.”
“Everything that I am- everything that I have become- is you, Jungkook.” You said confidently. “I exist because of you. I was made by your hand and, with all of the things you’ve given me to make me- well, me- I know you like the back of my own hand.”
For a moment, Jungkook twisted his lips in thought.
“When’s my birthday?”
You scoffed in disbelief. “Easy. September first.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s my favorite color?”
“It’s black.” You laughed. “Your old room did not hide that fact in the slightest.”
“You remember my old room?”
You sighed. “It’s the only room of yours I remember. I never saw where you moved to.”
Your creator paused for a moment, shocked. “You know that I moved?”
The sigh of disappointment that escaped your lips was impossible to catch. “I was there the entire time, Kook.”
Jungkook took a step back, baffled, before he stepped forward and took both of your hands into his own. “You were there when I-“ Tears collected in his eyes. There was guilt tainting the purity of his voice. “When I-“
“When you closed me up? Yes, Jungkook. I was there.”
“Oh god,” He whimpered audibly and hung his head under the weight of the revelation. “I’m so sorry.” Your heart couldn’t take the sight.
Instead of sulking further, you tugged him until he got the message that you wanted to continue walking. He stumbled for the first two steps until he was trailing behind you with a lack of energy.
“Where is your place?” You asked, striding down the street confidently. It felt amazing to finally be alive with the one you loved in your grasp.
“Turn left.” He wavered. You followed the direction instantly, pivoting to walk down another street.
Jungkook’s tearful directions brought you to the front of an apartment building after fifteen minutes. Despite his low mutterings of culpability, you didn’t worry. You had already forgiven him when he came back to you. It didn’t matter that it had taken a few years. All that mattered was that he could see you now, just as you had seen him then.
Your artist’s mood suddenly shifted when you entered the building and eyes of people around the lobby shifted to look at you. His arm was strong as he yanked you close to him and wrapped an arm around your waist. It seemed almost like an act of possessiveness. You didn’t mind it in the slightest as he held you to his side until you were entering the elevator.
You still had a small problem though.
“Jungkook,” You whispered as you looked up at him. “I love you.”
“You can’t love me. It’s impossible. I’m not…” He trailed off and winced, looking away to the increasing floor numbers. “… loveable.”
“After all this time, you don’t believe me?” You raised your hand to cradle his cheek, lightly nudging his face to make him look at you again. “Jungkook, I’ve loved you from the moment you first drew my left pupil. I’ve never stopped caring for you and wishing the best for you. You did nothing wrong.”
The elevator dinged as he stared at you, speechless yet again. It almost seemed as if he was contemplating something. “It’s… insane that you were conscious then. I can’t even imagine how much you saw.”
Then, something clicked in him. “Wait. Just how much have you seen?”
The elevator doors opened to his floor and you rushed out with a sheepish laugh to avoid that conversation.
“Y/N,” Jungkook followed you closely. “What have you seen?”
When he pulled you to a stop in front of a door and backed you against it by grabbing your shoulders to face him, your heart kickstarted into a race of emotion. You still couldn’t believe that you could feel him touching you.
Looking in his eyes would never get old, yet it seemed that in this certain situation, it was hard to maintain the eye contact. Jungkook was too close for you to even think clearly.
“E-everything.” You stuttered, dumbfounded by the sensation.
“Everything?” Jungkook reached behind you to open the door with a narrowed gaze. You slightly fell back when the door gave way into his apartment. “What is everything?”
You backed up under his questions and turned to find an apartment much nicer than the room he used to stay in all those years ago.
“When I say ‘everything,’ Jungkook,” You hesitated, looking around the main area and taking your shoes off. It was your effort to avoid looking at him at all. “I mean everything.”
“So you saw when I…” He trailed off. “And those times I…”
You hummed in confirmation, proceeding deeper into his apartment as he referred to all of the times he touched himself the way he liked and the instances he managed to bring a woman home. When you found his bedroom, you turned back to him and raised your eyebrows in a question for permission to enter.
“Oh, uh- sure. Just-“ He mumbled. “Don’t mind the mess.”
“What mess?” You asked, turning around as you stepped through the open door. “Oh.”
The room was completely covered in scattered paper. Upon further inspection, you realized that the papers had small sketches of parts of- you.
“I tried recreating you.” Jungkook explained to satisfy your curiosity. “I just couldn’t get it right. Every time I got close to drawing your mouth, I fucked it up somehow.”
You gingerly picked up one of the sketches and held it closer to your face to get a better look at it.
“I looked like this?” It was truly a wonder to see what you had come from. His skill hadn’t declined at all. You still recognized the smudge of eyeliner. You were suddenly aware of the cross earring dangling from your earlobe and the ‘J’ necklace that wrapped around your neck when you saw them drawn on the paper.
“No. You were much more…” Jungkook trailed off as if he regretted letting the words come out of his mouth. “… beautiful.”
With the statement, you turned to look at him and found him staring down at a paper in his hand. He had a look of frustration tainting his handsome face.
Without wasting any more time, you grabbed his paper from him and placed both yours and his on the nearby desk. The tension was building and you were beginning to lose yourself to it as the pulse in your chest and between your legs strengthened.
“You were always my artist, Jungkook. You have been since the day you made me. You are the most skilled artist I know.”
“Am I not… the only artist you know?”
“Be quiet and listen to me, Jungkook.” You grabbed him by the hand and sat him on his bed, only to place your hands on your hips. He stared up at you, wide-eyed and shocked by your action, but you proceeded forward confidently.
“You drew me and you brought me to life. All of those emotions… you felt all of them and you gave them to me. I felt every single one. I watched you hurt and I watched you cry. I watched you get broken time and time again only to shut off after. I hated that I couldn’t help you.” You took a step forward to grab his face in both of your hands. “But I’m here now, by whatever grace of god, and I’m here to stay. There is no way in hell I would even think about leaving your side after going through what we’ve been through together.”
You took a breath after your rant and huffed to finalize your statement. “So, I love you. Wholeheartedly and completely. I’m in love with you.”
His brown eyes were open wide for a few seconds and you studied them in search of any sort of response. What you weren’t expecting was for his eyebrows to turn up and his eyes to fill with tears. You also didn’t expect to feel a warmth in your chest that radiated so much heat that you had to look down and clutch at your chest in bewilderment.
When you looked back up at him, the tears in his eyes were spilling over, but there was a smile on his lips- albeit, it was a small smile, but it was a smile. Your creator was crying tears of unbridled joy.
“I’ve loved the idea of you since I was a kid.” He sniffled and you thumbed away a tear that threatened to cross down his face again. “Someone who would stick by me and understand the things I went through. Someone who wouldn’t leave me just because of the things that haunt me everyday. I-“ He hiccuped. “I just wanted someone to love me for me. And I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I starting sketching you in fifth grade.”
You felt wetness prickling at your eyes and, suddenly, you were also crying. What a sensation. You smiled and leaned in to press your foreheads and noses together. In true peace with him, you closed your eyes and let your tears fall.
The two of you were together. After five years of the impossible love that- quite literally- crossed dimensions, you could love each other for what you were.
“Y/N,” Jungkook whispered. His breath fanned against your chin. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Please.” You whimpered under the wave of passion that flooded your body and bubbled up in your chest.
You sprang forward as he opened his arms to snatch you into his chest and you kissed him with a smile, true happiness within your soul completely wiping away any prior sadness. His lips smashed into yours with such vigor that it borderline hurt, yet you only felt his tears against your cheeks and the ardor in his kiss.
The two of you fell back onto his bed and your body began to tremble in excitement. Five long years of unexperienced memories of loving him and being with him had taken a toll on your patience. For five years, you loved him from afar and gotten to know him through your own eyes despite the memories he had already given you. After five terribly long years, you finally had him.
Jungkook’s hands gripped at your hips, squeezing harshly as you laid against him and pressed your body onto his. He whimpered when you bit into his bottom lip like you loved to do. He had drawn you to love doing it because he loved it too.
Your bodies moved in sync with each other, perfectly attuned to each other’s needs. Everything about you was him and everything about him was you. He groaned lowly as you sucked his lip between both of yours and swiped your tongue across it.
Your hand was sliding down his body, just as he liked, until it stopped at his waist and squeezed. When you pulled away, his eyes were pleading. You knew what he wanted.
Your fingers fumbled with his button and zipper to the jeans he wore while you leaned your lips into his ear. “I love you, Kookie.”
“Noona.” He whined and then froze, realizing the name he had just called you.
“So Hobi was right.” You teased and smiled smugly. “You do have a noona kink.”
“N-no.” He shivered as you splayed your hand under his shirt, slightly digging your nails into his skin. “Okay, maybe.”
“Even though you’re older than me, you can call me that. Okay?” You let your hand gradually descend further down until it was teasing his happy trail. Playfully, you pinched some of the hairs between your fingers.
“Okay.” The man replied all-too quickly.
His boxers were useless against your snaking fingers. You quickly slipped below them and grabbed ahold of his hardening cock, slowly stroking his flesh to hardness. “Tell me you love me, Kookie.”
In response to your touch and your words, he arched his back to roll his hips into rhythm with your languid strokes.
“I love you, noona.” He whispered.
With a grin, you placed a kiss onto the shell of his ear, took your hand out of his pants, and slid down his legs until you were on your knees on the floor. He sat up on his elbows to look down at you.
“Then, let me love you.” You breathed.
He nodded quickly.
You trailed your hands up his legs and placed your hands on both of his thighs like you had watched him do before, squeezing the supple and muscular flesh. You wanted to do it too. To please him. To love him the way he deserved.
You moved your hands up until you hooked your fingers under both waistbands of his jeans and boxers before tugging. He helped you by raising his hips to allow you the room to slide his pants down his legs.
With a sharp intake of breath, his dick unfolded from the confines his pants kept them in and laid with a light thump onto his stomach. While he kicked his pants the rest of the way off his ankles, you returned your hands to his thighs and reveled in the way his skin felt below touch.
“N-noona.” He stuttered, huffing for breath and shaking some of his hair from his eyes. “Please love me.”
“I love you, Kookie.” It was endearing to see him turn into putty for you and you had no problem repeating the words as many times as he wanted you to. You looked up into his eyes again while you leaned into his left thigh. “So much.”
Your lips connected to his inner thigh like they were meant to be there and only when you inched closer did you feel his hand cradling the back of your head. He didn’t pull you any closer but you felt the caress of his needy fingers.
His dick jerked while you inched closer to it and your mouth started to water at the sight of the engorged flesh sitting prettily as it waited for your attention. With a short glance to his face, you got a hint for how excited he was; it didn’t help in containing your own excitement to see how wide his beautiful eyes were nor how his lips were slightly agape as his breaths came faster.
You got to his dick in a matter of a few seconds that were the result of your impatience, letting your bottom lip lightly drag up the shaft until you reached the ridge of his tip. Truly, it was a sight to behold.
With a tentative swipe, you licked across the top and drew up the small bit of pre-cum that managed to escape from him. Just as you expected, it was salty, yet it sat perfectly on your tastebuds while you hummed in delight of his most heady taste. This was the source of the scent you had smelled when you first hugged him.
“Oh.” He breathed. “Can you do that again?”
You smiled and nodded, letting your tongue flick across him again whilst placing your arms on top of his thighs and your hands to the sides of his waist. He loved it when you did that.
Before you knew it, you were wrapping your lips around his tip to swirl your tongue while your forehead and nose pressed into the skin of his stomach. He tasted perfect and you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to suck in everything he had to offer while his thighs trembled below you.
“Oh god.” You felt him shift when you grabbed him by the base and propped it up to help with slightly nudging him into your mouth. Then, you closed your lips around him and sucked.
Jungkook collapsed to the bed while you worked your tongue on the underside of his dick, right in the spot he loved to touch so much. You had no need to deepthroat. He was sensitive enough where you laved against him.
When you got the chance to look up at him again, you smiled at the sight of him tightly holding a pillow to his face and his abs twitching uncontrollably below his t-shirt. With a slight stroke of your hand to match the suctioning of your mouth, he muffled a moan into the pillow.
You pulled him out of your mouth and swayed your tongue back and forth across his length as you went down, noting the veins and ridges in your path, until your retraced them when you went from base to tip again. It was too much to resist sucking him back between your lips to reattach your tongue to his sensitive spot. He let out another garbled moan whilst he squeezed the pillow tighter against his face.
Suddenly, he was pulling the pillow off of him and throwing it to the side in order to sit up and push you off of him. For a brief second, you fought against the action to greedily take more of him, but he wasn’t having it. You were surprised to find that he was about to cum.
“Please let me love you, noona.” He breathed, leaning down to lift you into his lap. For a moment, you struggled in his grip, but it wasn’t long before you were straddling his waist as he wrapped his arms around yours and pulled you to him. His dick lightly pressed to the area between your clothed thighs.
“Love me.” You whispered against his lips.
He shoved a hand down the front of your pants and kissed you again. With his finger slipping between your pussy lips and onto the top of your clit, you tried to close your legs in reaction but only succeeded in squeezing his waist a little tighter.
Jungkook dipped a finger straight into your cunt but the angle made it difficult for him to go very far. Instead, he settled on twisting your bodies until you laid at the top of his bed. He sat on his heels for a moment as he scrambled to remove your pants from your legs and strip you of the barrier that kept you from him.
You reached down and took off your jacket and tank top to reveal all of your naked body to him, needing to show off what he made possible to make him proud. You wanted him to be proud of himself like he was proud of you.
“Oh, you’re so beautiful.” He moaned. “So perfect.”
“I’m yours, Kookie. Don’t you forget that.”
“Never.” He said before he dove down between your legs.
You put your legs on his shoulders as his mouth pressed into your pussy, licking his way straight into your cunt to collect all that gathered there in the past few minutes. Then, he pressed two fingers into you to take his tongue’s place while it got to work on your clit. You grabbed for his free hand, threading your fingers together, and placed your other hand in his long hair to grab a fistful of it while you cried out to the ceiling.
He parted from your clit to raise his head and look at you. Love filled his eyes like never before and he leaned down to affectionately lick on your clit again so that he could watch your reaction. His tongue was hot and oh, so wet, as it abused your bundle of nerves. A dreamy expression overtook him when you moaned with your eyebrows furrowed.
“Oh, Kookie. So good.” You heaved a breath as he pumped his fingers harder, massaging against your velvet walls in different spots with each thrust. “So perfect.”
He stretched you out well, scissoring his fingers to slightly open you so that he could ready you for his dick, but you didn’t need to be prepped. You were made for him.
“Love me, Jungkook. Inside and out.”
“I love you.” He said automatically, slipping his fingers out of you and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. “Let me grab a condom.”
You waited as he leaned over you to reach into his nightstand. His torso slightly spread your legs wider and you leaned up to press a kiss to his tattooed shoulder while he struggled to grab ahold of one.
Jungkook came back to his original position with the foil between his fingers, already in the hurried process of tearing it open. Carefully, he slid it on and then stroked himself a few times to fit it snugly against him. Before you knew it, he was pulling you to him and positioning himself against your slit.
“You’re mine.” He muttered, almost as if it was meant for only him to hear. “Only mine.”
With a cant of his hips, he split your walls to bury himself into you. As you anticipated, he fit inside you perfectly, filling you to undeniable flawlessness. The lube on the condom made the slide of him inside you much more smooth and effortless. Warmth encased your body when he brought your legs onto his forearms and leaned down, folding you in the process.
“I’m yours.”
He thrusted to more firmly plant himself inside you and you whimpered loudly at the sensual love from the movement. Your pussy parted for him in such a way you would have never imagined.
For a bit, Jungkook just rutted in you so that he could lean down and kiss your lips. He breathed heavily, exhaling his delicious breath onto your lips while you locked your arms around his neck and attempted to pull him deeper than he already was.
He pulled out suddenly and grunted.
“Fuck this.” Jungkook reached down and yanked off the condom, tossing it to the floor. You giggled at his carelessness “I need to feel you, baby.”
When he entered you again, it was different. Although he remained loving, there was a fierceness in his movement that was not present before. Jungkook grabbed onto your hip and dug his other arm below your back so that he could grab onto the nape of your neck, cradling you.
“Noona,” He whispered, leaning down with a small push of his hips into you. You gasped your response.
“Yeah?”
“Let me-” He hissed when you involuntarily clenched more tightly around him. “Please let me go harder.”
Your brain may as well have reset as he begged and you completely lost your mind at how good he sounded when he pleaded. You clenched again.
“Harder,” Was all you managed in the anticipation. “Go harder, baby.”
Jungkook smashed his lips onto yours as he became ferocious with his hips. An unrelenting rhythm pounding straight into your body drove you further into the darkness of his sheets and you cried out in the bliss of utter passion.
And oh, how you loved him.
Jeon Jungkook was your only love as he set a pace so harsh that you thought of nothing but the need to have him inside of you- always- and it was undoubtedly the most perfect sensation you could have felt in any lifetime. He gnashed his teeth together as he focused on where he speared into you repeatedly, grabbing onto the back of your neck as a means to keep you still so that he could he could have every facet of your attention and ounce of control.
“Perfect pussy.” He whispered through clenched teeth. “Feels so perfect. All messy.”
You grunted as he pressed into you so hard that his skin touched your clit. The stretch was glorious. Each greedy slurp of your bodies parting drove you further towards the brink of an orgasm. With abandon, you angled your hips so that you could revel in the sensation of him completely destroying your insides. The pressure was building incredibly fast.
Your teeth chattered from his filthy movement as you spoke despite you not being the slightest bit cold. “You’re i-in my g-guts.”
“Yeah, I am.” Jungkook agreed with a smirk, laughing breathlessly and slowing. “You’re too small for this dick.”
“No, I’m not!” You immediately protested, grinding your hips to try and egg him back on to his momentum. “I want it.”
“You want it?” He asked, shoving himself in you again. “You want my dick, noona?”
You hummed, nodded eagerly, and shifted with anticipation when he took your legs over his arms again.
“It’s all yours, baby. All yours. Was meant to be yours.” You definitely liked that.
Your creator picked up his rhythm, grunting with effort as he used his hips to pin yours into the mattress. It was only a matter of time before you were approaching your orgasm again with your toes curling.
“Kook,” You gasped a breath. “I’m going to-”
You didn’t have enough focus to finish your sentence because he had jammed his thumb into your clit during your declaration. With his touch, your body was racked with spasms and your arms tightened around his neck to bring his face into your neck and shoulder.
Jungkook hummed against your skin. “Oh fuck, noona. Gonna lock me in? Gonna keep me here when I cum in your pussy?”
Your moan of agreement was all you could manage. You were about to cum and nothing could bring you out of it. His words were sending you towards your climax even faster than before.
Jungkook could only kiss you once more before you hit bliss with a certain pass of his thumb over your nub. You moaned into his mouth while you dug your nails into his back and he sucked in a breath, obviously feeling the pain, yet it seemed to drive him even harder into you when you mindlessly dragged them down his skin.
You couldn’t keep your eyes open to watch his frame dominate yours. In waves, your body seized and squeezed around his unrelenting force until he, himself, was releasing deep into your depths to empty himself of his engorgement. He elicited a low growl and pressed his teeth into your neck lightly.
A few seconds passed, the two of you panting for air as you came down from your highs.
“Kookie,” You cooed, heaving for breath and smiling, completely out of it with the dreamy afterglow ridding you of common sense. “Oh, Kookie. I love you.”
He grinned with warm, sparkling eyes. It was then that you noticed his eyes were shiny because he had oncoming tears in them.
“And I love you, Y/N. More than anything, I do.”
You unwrapped your arms from his neck and let him pull away so that he could remove himself from your body and let you put your legs down. When you looked down to watch the action, you noted the thick glob of cum that quickly surfaced from within your cunt.
“Let’s go get cleaned up.” He laughed, eyes twinkling with tease as he looked down at the sight.
“Mhm.” You agreed.
Jungkook stood from the bed and held his hand out for you to take, which you gladly accepted, and then you both walked over to the bathroom hand-in-hand. Another warm spurt of his cum made the insides of your thighs sticky as you stepped through the door and shut it behind you.
He kept his hand clasped onto yours as he slid the door to the shower open and turned on the water. When he shut it again to keep any water from escaping, he turned to face you, only to pull you to him and push you until he trapped you between the counter of the sink and his naked body. With a sigh of contentment, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder.
“You’re here.” Jungkook mumbled there.
You giggled in response while you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a hand to the back of his head. “I’m here, Kook.”
“And I’m awake.”
You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Yes, you’re awake.”
He squeezed his arms a little tighter around you, pulling you into his naked skin more firmly. “I can’t believe you’re actually real.”
Steam began to fill the ceiling of the bathroom as the two of you exchanged more simple comments about your existence. It was your queue to take the conversation into the shower.
“That time I touched myself,” Jungkook backed into the stream and pulled you with him. His head blocked the water from getting in your face too much and, with you looking up at him, you watched the water drench his hair and run down his temples. “You saw?”
“I did.” You closed your eyes and pressed the tip of your nose against his.
“That’s crazy. It honestly felt like you were watching me then.”
You smiled, letting your lips just barely skim over his. “I was.”
For a little, you let the water stream around the two of you, breathing in his scent as he breathed in yours. You massaged your fingers into his back muscles and kneaded the tissue to relieve him of the built up tension from what you presumed to be years of stress and unease. He sighed and let his forehead rest against yours.
Your naked breasts pressed upon his chest lightly, nipples rubbing against his skin, and he seemed to take the contact as an invitation to raise a hand to cup underneath it. Your ‘J’ necklace moved slightly to the side with the action.
“I love your titties. Such perfect titties.” Jungkook backed away slightly to usher you around, placing your back against his chest with his hands returning to bosom. He placed his chin on your shoulder to watch the breast in his hand move with his ministrations and you let him play with it as much as he pleased since you loved his attention.
It wasn’t long before he was leaning down to place a tongued kiss onto your skin.
“I love your lips.” You whispered, craning your head back into him as he trailed inward to kittenishly lick your jaw. “And your tongue.”
He deftly worked his hand down your skin to cup against your pussy and place two fingers against the outer lips. You could feel him slightly massaging them around to smear his spunk that managed to leak out.
The water ran down his arm and onto your pussy as he played and you had half the mind to slightly part your legs to give him room to clean himself from inside you.
“Then can I put my lips and tongue here again?”
You answered him much too fast, breathlessly. There was no shame in needing him- badly. “Yes.”
Jungkook was slow with his movements, delicately turning you so that you understood his intentions when you watched him crouching down. Even as he kneeled before you, made you hook a leg over his shoulder, and pressed you to the wall with a tight grip on your thigh, his presence exhumed that of a god with his dark hair dripping and his black tattoos contrasting starkly to the white of the shower.
His tongue was slow in rubbing against you, a subtle and soft contact, and it drove your hands into his hair so that you could push it out of his face while he tended to your clit like an animal tending to a wound. It was gentle and it was loving. You sighed softly.
Reveling in the deliberate pleasure of his mouth, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall while your other leg trembled under the weight of balancing on one foot. Still, you kept yourself up to receive his passion.
A certain insistent flick of his tongue right into the center of your clit had you unexpectedly jolting forward and your body curling in on itself. When you looked at him with wide eyes, Jungkook’s gaze was lidded and lazy.
Your body was already sensitive from his previous battering into you, but with his tongue on and in you again, you were hurtling towards your orgasm so fast that you could barely comprehend his other hand kneading the tense flesh of your ass.
“Fu-uck.” You ground out. He closed his eyes at the sound.
Jungkook didn’t use his fingers, knowing that your insides were much too used and tender to receive any more of his attention for the time being, yet he seemed to mobilize his tongue ardently in order to continue your reception of bliss. It was his graciousness that brought you to another climax.
Your body was still jolting as he stood and encased you against the wall, pressing his thigh between yours so that you could ride out the rest of your orgasm with the contact of his skin, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to lift you into his arms when you finally came down. In the heat of the shower, you wrapped your legs around his waist and tightened them like a vice so that your bodies could come together again.
He dragged his dick along your folds, rutting so that your outer lips parted to hug him in his movements, and he came again with a low curse and a few jets of his cum shot straight onto your clit and stomach. Your legs trembled with the stimulation against your bundle of nerves.
“I could never get enough of you.” He whispered, kissing your lips and then trailing his kisses to your jaw. He kept his hips moving so that he could use his cum to ease the slide of his cock against your folds. “It would be impossible to have enough.”
“Jungkook,” You whispered. “All of me is yours.”
Even as he softened and dropped you to the floor, he kept his face pressed into your neck.
“Where do we go from here?” He asked lowly. You could practically feel his concern. “You aren’t registered as a citizen; you don’t have anything to your name; you literally appeared out of a drawing.”
You smiled and raised your hands to the back of his head again, a habit that you found comforted the both of you, and then threaded your fingers into his hair.
“We’ll figure it out, baby.” You sighed. “What I do know is that I have you and that’s all I need.”
“You need me?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you with surprise and admiration.
“More than anything.” You breathed, smiling softly.
He mirrored your smile with a beautiful one of his own. “I think I can work with that.”
You reached around him, grabbing his bottle of Head & Shoulders, and squirted some onto your hand. Obediently, he leaned his head forward for you to rub it in as he had done yet never done hundreds of times before.
Because, despite the lack of you actually being together in his reality, the two of you shared a love that was real and warm and true ever since he began drawing you with the simple tool of a graphite pencil.
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~Dedicated to all of those sweet anons who constantly fill my heart with love and joy. Thank you all for being such kind humans <3~
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jkeuphoriadreamland · 26 days ago
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Needy › JJK
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› Pairing: Sub!Jungkook x reader › Genre: Idol!Jungkook, smut, fluff 18+ M › Summary: You come home expecting to spend time with your baby boy, but find he's asleep. Thankfully, he's too needy to stay asleep. › Warnings: Smut, noona kink, sub!jungkook, dom!reader, bathtub sex of sorts, lots of grinding and lots of begging from Koo, dirty talk. › A/N: It's been a minute since I did subby Koo, so here's another self-indulgent piece. Happy Koo day <3
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The day had been long and all you wanted to do was come home to your lover and feel the heat of his body against yours. But when the light snores of the man in question fill your ears, you sigh in defeat.
“Just like him to be asleep when I get home.”
It wasn’t his fault really. His job required him to stay up late at night, sometimes even until the morning light appeared. The life of an idol was never easy. When your relationship began you knew there would be struggles, one being time, so you both made sure to prioritize each other. Tonight, however, things weren’t going to go that way.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you remove your shoes and begin undressing. Your job was hard, but it was the best way to avoid people finding out about your relationship with Jungkook. If you continued to act the same way as before, no one would suspect a thing. The hard part was knowing that everywhere Jungkook went he was adored and desired by so many people. You weren’t exactly the jealous type, but it wasn’t as if only one girl was interested. You were going against thousands, and sometimes that made you a tiny bit insecure.
It’s a good thing that only you knew that their strong muscle man was really a soft and whiny little thing whenever you were alone. And right now, sitting next to him, hearing his soft breathing and tiny mumbles, you wanted nothing more than to have him in your arms.
Making your way to the bathroom, you ran a bath and finished undressing. Your makeup was stubborn, so as the tub filled, you completed your beauty routine. Finally settling into the practically scalding water, you released a sigh and laid back with eyes closed.
Not five minutes into your little paradise moment, the creaking of the door causes you to open your eyes.
“Noona?”
At the door, looking like a sweet puppy, was the love of your life. “Yes, baby?”
“Why didn’t you wake me. You know this is our special time together.”
You chuckle and flick your wrist, the soap suds gliding down your arms and tickling the skin with its descent. “I know, baby. But I couldn’t wake you. You looked so adorable sleeping. You still look so tired, puppy. Have you seen your hair?”
Jungkook quickly turned to the mirror and began fussing over a stray hair that just wouldn’t settle into place. “It’s not my fault. You know how my hair is after a shoot.”
“I do.”
You thought he would turn back to the bedroom, but he slowly inched himself closer instead.
“I missed you.”
Your eyes flicker to the way his hands grip the hem of his hoodie, the one you know has nothing else underneath. You’d noticed it the minute he came in, but you didn’t want to take away from his performance.
“I missed you too.”
Once again he moves closer, toes facing each other and bottom lip tucked neatly under his adorable bunny teeth. “Y-yeah and...I was having such a hard time earlier.”
“Were you, baby?”
Pretending to stretch back his arms, his hoodie lifts up just enough to let his hard cock plop forward into view. “Ah, I see. And what do you think your noona can do for you?”
It amazed you how often you were able to get him to blush, and how easily it was to make him turn his head away in shame. “I..I don’t know. I just really really missed you and it’s been hurting me for hours. I fell asleep only because I was exhausted, but I need some help.”
“Then come here, baby.” You gesture for him to join you expecting that he’d remove his clothing, but he simply stepped into the tub and straddled you with the hoodie still on his body.
“Kookie, what the hell? You’re such a silly boy.” He giggled and leaned in to kiss you, a gesture you were more than willing to accept. Your hands come up to curl over his ears, rubbing over the lobes tenderly. The touch was apparently too much for Jungkook because in the same way you brushed your fingers over his earlobes, he began to grind against your belly.
“Somebody’s a little needy.”
Jungkook's lips formed a pout, the momentary break from kissing you allowing him to stare into your eyes… begging for something he didn’t want to say out loud. He took in a sharp breath, playing with the round tip of his tongue ring before choosing his words. “I just... I’ve waited all day.”
“Is that so, baby? I can tell ...just look at you all wet for your noona. Do you want to take off this hoodie?”
“No!” Jungkook panicked. “I wanna be like this...wanna get all dirty for my noona.” There was just something naughty about him being partially dressed while you were wet and naked beneath him. When he felt your hands reach back to squeeze his ass, he bit his lip and whined.
“Then get dirty for me, puppy.”
With an equally desperate motion, you assisted him as he rolled back and forth over your belly. The combination of his movements with yours caused water to slosh over the side of the tub, but neither of you were in the right mind to care. Seeing him so broken, yet sleepy...desperate to reach his high, but too exhausted to find it...made you want to ruin him even more.
“Noonaaa, I need to cumm…”
“I can see that, baby.” His cock peeked under the fabric of his shirt, the material teasing the tip of his length with every thrust. He looked so beautiful above you, his jawline more evident with every clench of his jaw. He tried to suppress his moans but your hands moved faster and your pussy got wetter just knowing he was on the edge and it was all because of you. He wanted to cum so bad, but he wouldn’t...not until you gave him permission.
“I know you do, pretty baby, but noona needs to get out of the tub.”
“NOOOO...please I’m so close..”
“I can see that. But if you’re going to be nasty about it, you can cum all alone.”
“No, Noooo okay okayyy...whatever you want.”
“Good boy.”
He flexed his arms holding himself up as you slid from under him and stood to step out of the tub. Grabbing a nearby towel, you placed it on the floor in front of the tub and then sat with your back supported by the porcelain. Jungkook quickly took note of what he had to do and immediately settled himself back on your lap.
“This is so much better baby. Now noona can reach back here…”
With a touch to his hole, Jungkook bucked forward, already sensitive from being so close to orgasm. “Hnnggg...oh my god. I-if you touch me like that I’m going to cum faster.”
“Who says I don’t want you to?”
His eyes finally focused and when he caught your own he realized you weren’t joking. There was nothing else that needed to be said. He settled himself even tighter against you, his hand grasping the edge of the tub behind your head in order to gain the motion he needed to reach his high. His balls rolled over your thighs while his cock pressed into your belly hard. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but something about the ache made it so good.
The water over your skin allowed him to slide back and forth easily, and when he urgently rolled his hips against you, you took the opportunity to press the tip of your finger into his tight ring of muscles, and Jungkook sobbed against your ear.
“Noonaa…..I can’ttt..I’m so close….so close noonaaaa.”
“Good. Can you hold out a little longer for me?”
“Nooo..I mean...yes…”
“Which is it, baby? Yes or no?”
“I don’t knowww.”
Smiling against his shoulder, you open your mouth to bite the tender skin there and he jerks forward, body shuddering in orgasm. The heat of his cum decorates your naked belly and then slides down between your thighs and over your cunt. His body droops over yours for a moment and you hold him tight.
“I guess that was a no.”
You could feel Jungkook chuckle as you ran your fingers up and down his spine.
“What’s so funny, puppy?”
“Nothing. I just love you.”
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| All works are ©jkeuphoriadreamland: Do not  upload, copy, translate, steal any of my works.
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koos-euphoria · 2 months ago
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ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ | ᴊᴇᴏɴ ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ
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jungkook/reader | smut | 18+ | enemies!au | oneshot
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wordcount: 6.2K
warnings: enemies to lovers, dom!jungkook, sub!femreader, unprotected sex, public sex? Idk if it can be classed as that lmao… angry sex, reader is a low-key brat.. dirty talk, tension. Annnnnd that’s all I’m telling I don’t wanna give too much away heheheh, just know it’s filthy😈
— summary: There’s no one you dislike more than Jungkook.
notes: I hope you guys like it! Lemme know what you think!:)
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ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍ.ʟɪsᴛ | ʙᴛs ᴍ.ʟɪsᴛ
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©  koos-euphoria 2021. do not repost, modify, or translate
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You disliked him from the moment you met him, never forgetting about the way his large; muscular and clumsy body bumped into yours, effectively spilling his unfinished - hot Ramen all over your new and favourite white shirt you just got. Which, you mean, would of been fine if he didn’t laugh his ass off at you, and then claimed you were the one that had knocked into him while he had a stupid smug smirk on his lips. Since that day ( you had to toss that shirt, internally crying as you watched it disappear into a black rubbish bag, the white shirt completely stained ) no one pissed you off as much as Jungkook did.
All he had to do is breathe and you would feel the temperature of your blood rise and boil until you’re red in the tips of your ears - invisible steam flowing out of them. His fucking smirk that he does every time he successfully pisses you off as it bring you flash back of that horrible day; god you just wanted to punch it off his annoyingly pretty face. But even though there was no one you resented more than that man himself, everyone else around you seemed to be utterly in love with him. Especially your mutual friends Jimin and Taehyung, they loved him so much they both decided to have him as a roommate.
Which is a pain in your ass as every time you want over he’d be there strutting about with that stupid smug smirk.
❥❥❥
Not bothering to knock you let yourself into the house, only turning back once inside to close the wooden door behind you. Raising your voice you shout out to let your two best friends know you have arrived. You’re greeted with complete silence as you slip off your jacket and shoes leaving them at the door. Your eyebrows furrow as you begin your journey to the living room, “Hey guys? Jimin? tae?” You call out again, the closer you get the more you hear voices from the tv, assuming it’s the two males themselves and that they just didn’t hear you. But your eyes instantly land on the dark haired man after you push the door open the wood groaning. Both of his arms are thrown over the back of the sofa lazily, the multiple rings and bracelets that decorate his tattooed skin glisten as the light shines on them. Jungkook’s watching some anime show, the characters using swords to slay some type of giant from the back of their necks.
His head slightly tilts back when he hears the floorboards creak from under your weight once you take a step into the room, creating eye contact; is that a new eyebrow piercing? You think as the new piercing winks at you. Jungkook lets his own eyes trail down your body checking you out, before his mouth pulls up in a distasteful sour grimace. “What are you doing here?” He hisses through his teeth, making you roll your eyes.
“I’m not here for you, asshole.” You hiss back as the tips of your ears turn a shade of red. Your feet move on their own accord as they take you around the sofa and in front of Jungkook where they stop. Jungkook smirks mockingly as his legs spread further apart, thighs thick as he mansplains like his heart desires. His tongue appears from his mouth running along the flesh of his bottom lip wetting it before tucking it in between his teeth, holding himself back from laughing at how easy you are to annoy.
“Where’s Jimin?” You question with a huff, arm reaching up up as your fingers run through your hair, trying to calm yourself down, before you cross them over your chest - effectively pushing up your tits. Not moving from your spot Jungkook just stares at you for a moment eyes flickering down to your exposed cleavage, before he shrugs his broad shoulders. “Shop.” He answers simply, looking away from you, “Now move so I can finish this, your face is making me feel nauseous.” He says, scutching his nose as he pats his stomach to empathise his words.
Without even listening to the fact that he said Jimin was at the shop; not even home like he said he was, your ears turn red as your eyes become slits. “Oh please, like I even want you looking at me.” You spit, “Fuck you.” You mutter under your breath as you make your way to the kitchen that’s attached to the living room. “What was that? Would you like to say that louder? Hm?” Jungkook bites as his eyes dart to you, his eyes are like daggers though his body stays relaxed as he practically melts against the soft pillows below him.
You swallow at his challenge, a fake smile spreading across your lips as you walk until you’re leaning over him, bending at the hip until noses almost brushing. You miss the way Jungkook’s eyes dart to your lips from the close proximity. “I said. Fuck. You.” You say louder, voice surprisingly stable. A dark chuckle escapes his pink lips, biceps building as he pushes himself even closer the tips of your noses touching. “You'd like that wouldn’t you? Hm? It’s a shame I have standards.” Jungkook whispers venomously, his breath fanning across your face as he speaks. Pulling away, and leaning back into the sofa Jungkook smirks tauntingly at you, eyebrow raising as he waits for you to say something - anything back. “Why you fuck-“ Your shout gets cut of by the sound of the front door slamming.
Soft footsteps practically run through at the sound of your raised voice, your blood running high to boiling point. Jimin’s eyes are wide as he pulls your body away from Jungkook by your waist. “Woah y/n, calm down.” Jimin yelps alarmed. “And you,” he turns to Jungkook, “I told you no arguing while I’m gone.” He frowns at his younger male friend, who just rolls his eyes waving his hand in denial. “I didn’t do shit.” Jungkook dismisses, “Princess here is just too hot headed.” He smirks eyes flicking to you who starts struggling within Jimin’s hold, before they move back to him. “Oh, I’ll fucking show you hot headed, you dick.” You hiss through your rage, you hear Taehyung’s deep chuckle from next to you finding your words somehow endearing.
“Doll, we all know you’re tough.” He coos reaching a hand out to pinch your cheek, which make you whine in protest as you slap his hand away. Jimin shakes his head as he throws you over his shoulder, like you weigh nothing, taking you to his bedroom with out even a glance back. “You should probably get a lead for her. She needs some training on how to be a good little dog.” Jungkook snickers to himself, unable to hold back a loud laugh at the way you’re only able to just flip him off with a death glare and your middle finger.
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You don’t know why you even agreed to come to this stupid bar. You made Taehyung promise not to ditch you, but again he breaks it as you lose him amongst the hundreds of sweaty bodies.
Marching your way through, saying sorry to a few people on the way when you accidentally - purposely push them a bit harder than necessary. You plonk your ass on one of the bar stools, already drunk but finding you’re not definitely drunk enough to deal with this place alone. You call the bar tender over with a polite smile. “Two shots of toquilla, please.” You ask loudly leaning forward on your palms to make sure the man can hear you over the loud booming music. With a nod he leaves to fill the two small glasses up for you. Placing them in font of you when done, and you hand him the money paired with a small ‘thank you’.
You don’t waste time knocking one shot back face slightly twisting at the sour taste on your tongue before slamming it back down and reaching for the other. But as you reach out you find your grasping at thin air. Confused you look down to find your second shot missing, that is until you hear a glass hitting the bar table next to you. The sudden sound makes you face to noise, and you find your lips automatically pull into a grimace.
“What the fuck Jungkook?” You shout, “that was mine.” Your practically shout. Jungkook just smirks with a shrug. “Oops.” He says sarcastically.
Rolling your eyes as your rotate the bar chair to face the dance floor, eyes skimming across the place as you try to spot Taehyung within the crowd. Alas the male is nowhere and you can’t hide the pout that appears on your drunken face.
You don’t feel the eyes that are on you, as your shoulders slump in defeat. “He left. With some girl.” Jungkook fills you in, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him with no problem over the booming music. That has you huffing, rolling your eyes as you whine. The shot somehow effectively working at making your drunker. Whinier.
“He always leaves me.” You pout as you turn to Jungkook, the alcohol running through your system making you forget about your hatred towards him. Jungkook gives you a sympathetic smile back, standing straight he take one; two large steps before whizzing back to face you. Stretching his tattooed arm out with his palm open. “Let’s dance.” He suggests, eyesbrows dancing playfully, giggling you don’t think twice about sliding your small palm In his, letting him lead you back in amongst the sweaty bodies.
As you walk you take in his back profile, noticing how big he really is. The gym really doing gods work as his muscles visually move under the tight material of his shirt. The sight alone has drool pooling in your mouth.
Distracted by him you don’t notice that he’s stopped walking, your body colliding into his clumsily. The feeling of you knocking into him has him turning around eyes raking over you - checking to see if your okay with a hand now on your hip, protectively.
The song suddenly changes into a slow; sensual beat. Your eyes sparkle as your recognise it pulling onto Jungkook’s sleeve as your turn around, your ass brushing against his crotch as you begin to sway to the beat.
Jungkook pulls his lips between his teeth as his hand slips further around your waist, long fingers digging into your hips as he begins to grind back into you. Losing yourself to the song your eyes slip shut as Jungkook pulls you in closer, your back flush with his chest as he buries his face into your neck. Breathing in your sweet sent as his breath fans along your skin, making goosebumps rise. You moan softly at the feeling of his dick hardening against you.
“If I had known you were this good at dancing, y/n I would of done this sooner.” Jungkook whispers into your ear, as if he’s telling you a big secret. The tip of his nose slowly dragging along your pulse point teasingly. You giggle as you turn around, facing him, you run your hands up his chest, feeing his pecks as they twitch under your light touch, before you wrap your hands around his neck, finger burying into his hairline as you tug him down closer, your lip trapped between your teeth.
You gasp as Jungkook grinds into you again, this time his cock brushes against your mound. Your eyes flutter shut as you pulling his hair lightly. A hand that was squeezing your hips slides down to grip onto your ass, helping you both create a rhythm together.
“Y/n!” Taehyung shout as his hand splays along your back suddenly. The feeling making you jump as you push away from Jungkook like you’ve been burnt. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He smiles softly. “Let’s go home.”
Your sober self in the back of your mind sighs in relief, glad that Taehyung didn’t notice how lost you and Jungkook were with one another.
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Hot was an understatement. The heat of the sun beating down on you as you lay on the towel that you’ve placed on the sand. “Jimin, help me with my sunscreen please?” You ask as you bat your eyelids prettily, hoping it’ll get him to say yes.
Rolling his eyes with a small smile, he reaches out to take the lotion from your outstretched hand. However, the bottle is snatched away just as the tip of his finger brushes against the plastic. You both stare at Jungkook, mouths gaping as he flicks the lid open nonchalantly before squeezing some lotion in his hands. “I’ve got it hyung, Tae wants you.” He says answering the unspoken question that both you and Jimin are thinking. He tilts his head in the direction of the third male that floats within the blue water, waving at his Hyung excitedly.
“O..kay?” Jimin replies dragging out the syllable as you stands up, sending you a quick look before he shakes his head. Rushing off towards Taehyung.
Taking Jimin’s seat next to you he waits patiently as you suddenly realise he’s waiting you you to lay down so he can apply the cream. With a small cough, clearing your throat at the clear awkwardness between the both of you. He gets to work when you’re finally laying on your stomach. Both his palms smear the white cream on the skin of your back before he uses his fingers to massage it in properly. His fingers seem to be hitting all the right spots, as you feel your body melt underneath him.
Jungkook couldn’t hold back the small smirk as his digs his palm into a knot which causes you to quickly groan out in sight pain. A tug at your bikini pulls you out of your small trance as Jungkook undoes the bow. You jump, ready to scold him. “Relax, I'm making sure it’s applied on your back properly.” Jungkook cuts you off, stopping you from saying anything.
So you lay there obediently, your heart beat picking up as you feel his fingertips brush along the sides of your breasts. You don’t even feel the way you lift your self up slightly, your body having a mind on its own as he goes lower and lower. You try to hold back a moan as you feel his fingers brush against the side of your sensitive nipples, your mouth slightly opening in a silent want.
You don’t see the way Jungkook lips out a small “fuck” as he does it again this time brushing directly over your nipples before playing with them. “I d-don’t think I need cream there, Kook.” You stutter as you push your ass up slightly; as his fingers brush over the sensitive buds again. Jungkook pushing his crotch against your ass, letting you feel how his cock swells with want in his swim trunks.
“Better to be safe, don’t you think?” He says breathily, and you can’t stop your head from bobbing in a nod. This time Jungkook pinches the buds between his thumb and finger pulling at it before moving his hand away and back to your lower back.
He shuffles down your body spreading your legs open with his knees so he can sit in between them. His eyes not missing the small wet patch that forms on your bottoms, his head falling back for a second in a silent groan. Reaching over he grabs the lotion bottle squirting more into his tattooed palm, before placing it back down.
This time after rubbing the cream between his palms his hands land on the top of your thighs. Massaging it into the muscle there before slowly moving higher and higher. On the edge in anticipation your lip is practically bitten to death, red and swollen by the time his palms cover your ass cheeks, massaging the flesh there, pulling the flesh apart and giving a small peak at your little hole as the under sticks to the side. You’re unable to hold back as you push the flesh back into his large palms needily.
“Jungkook.” You whimper burying your face into the towel below as you feel yourself losing your sanity slowly. With a small chuckle Jungkook moves back down to you inner thighs, so close to where your aching between your legs. “What is it Babygirl?” He asks, teasingly before his thumb brushes under your bikini bottoms. Again and again. So close to where your needy clit is but still not touching it.
“Touch me.” You breath out as you push yourself back into him. “So needy.” His voice dips, turning raspy the more turned on he gets. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit lightly and you hold back a embarrassingly loud moan.
“Guys! Come in the water!” You hear Taehyung shouts as he comes closer and you feel as if you’ve just been thrown into the sea right there. Jumping up like a puppy getting caught doing something it shouldn’t, tail tucked between your legs.
“Thank you!” Your squeak out to Jungkook who’s cock is awfully hard and aching. But you don’t give him a second glance as you run away and towards Taehyung jumping in his arms as he lifts you in the freezing ocean.
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Maybe it was a bad idea to walk to Jimin’s and Tae’s alone at this hour. The moon shining along the road as it creates a path for you to your destination. The streets are eerily quiet, no soul in sight as your breath becomes jagged in silent anxiousness. Reaching into your jacket pocket you feel for your phone, grasping it and squeezing it within your palm in reassurance.
“Almost there y/n” you whisper to yourself in encouragement, nodding as you try to boost your confidence. Is that footsteps? You whip your head around behind you, eyes searching for the culprit but you’re greeted with the sight of an empty path, street light flickering. You gulp as you turn back in front. You’re imagine things y/n, you think.
But you pick up your pace anyway, somehow hearing those footsteps once again. Panting as your heart thumps within your chest. A scream erupts from your throat when you feel a strong hand grips onto your arm, whipping you around to face the unknown person. Your eyes widen at the sight of the stranger, his grip tightening as you try to pull yourself away.
“Hello pretty girl. What are you doing alone at this time?” He asks voice scratchy, and it sends a horrible shiver down your spine, the blood draining from your face. “Let go of me! My friend will be here any minute!” You yelp, hand dropping your phone in your pocket as it tightens into a fight, ready to swing.
“Oh c’mon, I’m sure I could be of better company.” He smirks stepping closer until you can smell an over whelming sent of alcohol from his breath, his free hand grabbing his bulge as he winks. Your nose scrunches in distaste as you lean back, tugging your arm again hoping it’ll come loose. The man chuckles darkly, “why don’t I take you to mine, let have some fun.” He asks no, tells you as he starts pulling you back in the direction where you came from.
“I don’t think so, sir.” You hear a familiar voice from behind you, your heartbeat fluttering as you let out a breath of relief. “She’s not going anywhere with you.” At that the stranger turns back pushing you aside as you trip from the strength, falling onto your ass. You whimper as you feel your hands scrape against the gravel below, water flowing to your eyes, threatening to fall.
“Oh yeah, and who are you? Hm?” The stranger sizes Jungkook up, finding he’s a lot shorter than him, but still he stays put. “I’m her boyfriend.” Jungkook says, his already dark eyes darkening as juts put his jaw, his tongue pushing against the soft flesh of his cheek. You let’s put a small gasp at the scene; mind also flowing with the fact he called himself your boyfriend.
In a flash he’s dodging a punch that the stranger throws, before Jungkook lands a hit himself. His fist connecting with the strangers cheek bone. That alone is enough to knock the stranger down, the alcohol in his system not saving his balance. Jungkook steps to tower over the man domineering. “Go home old man. Stop praying on women.” He says voice low. “Scum.” He spits saliva on the ground next the the stranger making him flinch.
“J-Jungkook.” You whimper, voice unstable as you reach out for him. Hearing your voice has him instantly turning to you, moving closer until he crouched down in front of your shaking form, eyes softening as he holds out a hand towards you to help you up.
“I’m taking you home.”
❥❥❥
You huff moodily when you hear your front door shut, the sound of Jungkook taking off his shoes is louder than normal. Your senses higher then usual as you become overly aware at how close you are and how alone you are.
Jungkook helps you with taking off your shoes like a gentleman, as his tatted hand wraps around your ankle the other works on undoing your lace. “What we’re you thinking, walking alone at this time?” He asks voice gentle as he sighs. You feel your eyes furrow as you become annoyed. “What? I’m a big girl Jungkook. I was only ten minutes away from Jimin.” You say voice slightly rough as you try to hold your anger in.
“You could’ve been hurt y/n. Or even worse.” He looks up at you while he says that placing your now shoeless foot down. His eyes narrow as if he’s silently challenging you to argue against him. With a shake of his head he grasps your other ankle now working on that shoe. “I would of been fine. Why did you take me home though? Jimin’s gonna wonder where I am.” You ask, although not so nicely your tone dripping with little venom, and the sound has Jungkook standing straight after placing both you foot and shoe down.
“I took you home because you shouldn’t have made your way over at this time. Alone.” He tells you, eyes turning into slits as he sends you angry daggers. If you weren’t so blinded by that fact you want to be at Jimin’s you would’ve of noticed the way your heart is doing little flips at his protective words. But of course you had to keep running your mouth letting him know how displeased you are.
“You’re not my dad. I can do what I please.” You hiss as you take a step closer chest bumping against his as you poke a finger into his hard chest. Jungkook scoffs at your words finding humour in them. “Why don’t you just shut your bratty mouth hm? Accept the fact I took you home.” He tells you, voice low in a warning that just flies past your hot head. “Make me.” You challenge.
Jungkook’s tongue brushes against his cheek at those two words, blood rushing to his cock, as his eyes rake over you. “You’re such a fucking brat.” He says before his lips are on you, both of his large palms cupping your face. “Gonna fuck the brat out of you.” He promises.
You whimper as you feel his lips on yours, the kiss rough; wet and messy. Teeth cleaning as his hands roam down and over your body not wasting time as he grinds his hips into yours. The pads of his fingers gripping tightly at the hem of your dress, pulling it up and over your head forcing you both to separate your mouths, a string of saliva getting cut as the material goes through it. Revealing your half naked body Jungkook groans deeply. “Fuck, no bra?” He growls his hands moving to cup your tits. Fingers massaging the flesh as his thumbs brush over your budding nipples. “Haven't been able to forget about the beach.” He says airily, recollecting as he reminds you of the event from two days ago, like he’s high on cloud nine.
Taking both the buds in between the rough pads of his fingers he roughly pulls at them. Loving the way you whine and push your chest further into his grip, like a needy slut. “Look at you. So fucked out. I could probably make you cum by just abusing your pretty tits.” He sucks in a shaky breath when you nod agreeing with him. Saving that in the back of his mind from a rainy day.
“B-bedroom.” You stutter out when his head dips down, his mouth enclosing around one of your hardened nipples while the other continues to pinch and play with your other. Letting go of your nipple with a light pop, it shining with spit. He nods quickly before placing his lips back on yours. His hands slide down you body, stopping for a second to squeeze the flesh of your ass, then begins moving again until they stop at the back of your thighs, his fingers tapping the muscle gently. “Jump.” He mumbles against your lips, it slurred slightly as he doesn’t pull away not wanting the kiss to end.
You do as he asks, jumping and wrapping your legs securely around his slender waist so you don’t slip. You arms wrap around his neck as the tips of your fingers burry into the soft strands of his hair pulling at the roots. Jungkook groans into your mouth as he started walking towards your bedroom. Stopping every few steps to push you against the wall for your teasing touch.
Kicking the door open he’s walks blindly until his knees brush against your soft sheets, before he’s pulling away from you, placing you down. Your body bouncing slightly as the impact. Impatient you don’t wait for Jungkook to move. Your hands reaching out and undoing his belt the metal clinking loudly as you rush.
Jungkook chuckles deeply his eyes taking in your fucked out face. “Look at you, so needy.” He teases his hand griping your chin forcing you to look up at him. His eyes searches yours, lust swimming and clouding over them. “Hands and knees.” He demands letting go of you. You do as you’re told clumsily, almost falling over - or you would of if Jungkook wasn’t quick to react by grabbing your hips helping you stay steady. “Tsk, so desperate. Clumsy girl. Want my cock that badly huh?” He ask rhetorically, you both already knew the answer to that one, but you let out a shakes ‘yes’ anyway.
His fingers hook under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down to expose both your holes to him. “Fuck, look at you. Dripping everywhere.” He breaths out as you kick your pants off the rest of the way until they land on the floor. His fingertips lightly brush against your glistening folds, spreading your lips apart to let him see your fluttering tight; leaking hole.
You whine when you feel the tip of his finger press against you, “need to stretch you open if you’re gonna be taking my cock.” He says smugly before he pushes his finger in to the knuckle, not waiting as he starts fucking you with it. “More.” You breath out, your arms unstable as the muscle works hard at keep you up. Jungkook uses his free hand to slap your ass cheek, loving the way your clench around his finger. He adds his middle finger next to his first one. Moving them in a scissor like movement to open up your tight cunt. “You’re so. fucking. tight.” He grits spanking you again with each word.
He groans when he feels your walls flutter around his digits, adding a third finger fucking them all into you; your juices running down his hand as it squelches crudely. “Would you listen to that.” He says satisfied. Curling his fingers up so they brush against your g-spot, making your eyes widen as your arms finally buckle; landing face first into the pillows below. “Fuck, Jungkook!” You cry out, spit pooling in your mouth as it trickles out. His free hand pushes down your back until he’s griping your hair using the strands to pull you up. He laughs hotly. “You’re drooling everywhere, little slut.” He degrades, a blush dusting along your cheeks in slight humiliation as he laughs at you. “Cum.” He orders his fingers working harder against your g-spot.
Your lids flutter shut as a sudden orgasm rushes through you, your body listening to his commands even though your mind is somewhere else. “Thaats a good girl.” Jungkook praises, arm pulling you into him as your body quivers at the intense euphoria.
Panting your body slumps, tired as you come down, but still you whine in protest as Jungkook pulls his fingers carefully out of you. “Shh, I know baby.” He coos smoothing your hair down as he lays you on your stomach gently. “Did so good. So good for me babygirl.” He praises.
As you try to catch your breath Jungkook tugs his shirt off in one swift movement, throwing it blindly across the room; his jeans and boxers following just after. His large palms grip onto your waist, flipping you over gently, and he pushes your hair away from your over-heating face. “Okay?” He asks softly eyes searching, looking for any sign of discomfort.
You don’t reply for a second eyes raking over his very naked body, stopping when you take in the sight of his very big - and very hard, veiny cock. You groan out, “how are you this fucking hot?” You pout, arms reaching down to grasp his cock.
His hips stutter pushing into your palm as it twitches in delight, “f-fuck.” Jungkook curses, before he sits back on he knees, letting your hand stroke him for a second. He grips your wrist stopping to when he begins panting. “That’s enough. Want to cum inside you.” He voice dips seductively. Nodding your head you part your legs greedily.
The sight makes Jungkook smirk, palms sliding over the soft skin of your thighs before pushing them further apart. Shuffling himself closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your swollen; neglected clit.
“P-please.” You gasp eyes flutter as he guides it up and down your slit slowly - teasingly. At your please however he gives in pushing the tip until it’s buried within your warm heat. “Shit.” He grits his teeth, pushing more of his dick inside; inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt. A breath of relief escapes from you. The feeling of his cock filling you, satisfying and your eyes water at how good it feels to have him buried within you.
Tugging his lip between his teeth he trails his hands over your hips and up cupping your breast with one as the other tattooed one continues up until it’s wrapped around your neck, the tattoos making it look like a pretty necklace on you.
With a shaky breath Jungkook slowly pulls his cock out before he pushes it back in you creating a slow deep pace until you’re both ready for more. The feeling of him hitting inside you so deeply has your mind reeling as you clutch onto his arms, nails scraping against his skin.
“More.” You slur, completely intoxicated by his cock, Jungkook growls as you clench around him tighter urging him, with a silent beg. Complying Jungkook lifts your thighs over his shoulders with one arm. Letting go of his grip on your neck as he leans forward so he’s able to get the right angle that he knows will make you messy.
“More? Hm? So greedy. My greedy girl aren’t you?” He asks cooing. You nod your head desperately. That’s all it takes for Jungkook to pick up his pace. Harder. Faster. Grunting with furrowed eyebrows as his hips slap against yours loudly, his balls hitting against your ass as he practically jackhammers into your swelling cunt.
“Jungkook!” You moan out, your whole body bouncing at the impact as you begin to drool once again. Pushing down he attaches his lips to yours, tongue pushing in to dance with your own messily as you moan into each other.
He pulls away an idea appearing in his mind as he smirks, lips swollen and wet with saliva, “open your mouth.” He orders a hand letting go of your thigh to reach your mouth pushing two fingers in putting a little weight against your tongue as he opens it wider. His lips purse as he collects up all the saliva he can get before he spits it messily into your mouth and outside of your mouth. Some of it dripping down your cheeks.
You whine, at that, cunt clenching around his cock like a vice as your second orgasm approaches. “Fuck you’re so fucking hot.” He growls. Thrusting harder. As he pushes your legs off him, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso until your flush against one another.
“Cum on my cock baby. C’mon milk my cum.” Jungkook moans, the tone turning higher; needier the closer he gets. You whimper as he snakes one arm down your waist, fingers brushing against your neglected clit as they run over the bud in circles. Forcing you over the edge.
“Fuck! Fuuc- Jungkook!” You slur out eyes rolling back as your toes curl, your fingers run through his hair roughly pulling the strands as your body convulses. Orgasm running through you in waves.
The feeling of your cunt clenching and fluttering around Jungkook’s cock is enough for him to cum with you. His cum hitting the deepest part of your walls. As the tip hits your womb over and over. “Shit, shit, fuck.” He moans, hips stilling as his cock continues to spew out milky stands of cum.
As you both come down, Jungkook burrows his face into your neck, places little butterfly kisses everywhere he can reach the both of you panting heavily, exhausted.
As his cock softens Jungkook pulls out leaning back on his knees to watch his cum leak out of you, “would you look at that, so dirty.” He says with a playful lilt to his tone. His fingers scooping up the cum that’s running out your still flutter hole before he brings it to your lips, sucking in a breath in as you open and close your mouth around them, sucking both his and your cum off them.
“God you’re so sexy.” He groans frustrated, and he pulls his fingers from your mouth, making you giggle at him. He flips himself on his back clumsily, bouncing on the mattress before he wraps an arm around you.
He gently pulls you into his chest until your head lays comfortably in the crook of his neck, the room silent apart from both of your heavy breathing. The bother you lay there, content in each others arms as you recollect on what had just happened. Everything in your ‘relationship’ changing.
The thought has a laugh bubbling up as you try to hold it back but when you feel Jungkook shaking with his own laugh you fail. One swift eye contact is enough to have you both breaking, as you both start laughing boisterously. The sight of Jungkook’s eyes squeezing shut and bunny teeth on show has your heart doing stupid little flips.
“What… just happened?” Jungkook’s asks laughter dancing along the words. You huff out a airy laugh, before you turn to him, pushing your self up, straddling his naked waist. “Im supposed to hate you.” You try to say seriously, A smile however breaks along your lips proving how much you did not in fact hate him. Jungkook barks out a laugh as he sits up arms wrapping around you as he hold your close.
The tip of his nose brushing along yours affectionately, “so does that mean you.. don’t hate me?” He questions before pulling back with a short gasp, his eyes wide, “oh my god, you love me!” He teases a grin taking over his features as you couldn’t hold back a whine. “Shut up stupid” you whine. “Wait.. are you saying you love me?” You ask in a whisper as you push yourself closer, brushing your lips against his as if to seduce him into saying yes.
With a roll of his eyes. He chuckles softly, suddenly becoming serious. He looks over you eyes sparkling in silent adoration. “I’ve always loved you y/n. You just hated me too much to see.” He whispers, the pads of his fingers brush to stray strands of hair behind your ear lovingly. “Plus, it’s fun riling you up, you're far too easy to tease baby.”
taglist 🏷: @gukkmoans @jikooknoona @notgivingin2000 @janedukiesworld @peachy-skz0325 @btsandnctsworld @diamonddia-mond @cyb3rbab3 @stobitnamjoon @nglmark @babyminsung
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hyungieyoongi · 2 months ago
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Come Home
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst (JK screws up and Reader needs some space, lots of emotions ofc follow) + Fluff + Established Relationship AU
Word Count: 2.0K 
A/N: I just was really feeling like writing some ~angsty~ JK because I have been doing mostly fluff lately, so here we are. 
---
You were silent on the drive home from the restaurant, eyes firmly planted on the view outside of the passenger window. You could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you at the next stoplight, his head turning to look at you. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it and moved his eyes back to the road when the person behind him honked. He hadn’t noticed the light turn green.  
It was your six-month anniversary, and you had made reservations at Jungkook’s favorite place. You had made sure everything would be perfect – the staff knew to let him in through the back entrance and lead him to a private room where a table for two was set with candles and a bottle of champagne.
The two of you hadn’t been able to spend very much time together lately, both of you busy with work. Wrapped snuggly in his embrace a few weeks ago, he had told you that this anniversary was important to him, a priority. He promised he wanted it to be special for the two of you.  
You arrived early and sat alone for 15 minutes. Then 30 minutes passed. Then an hour. You tried calling Jungkook to no avail – it went straight to voicemail over and over again. You were annoyed at first, but it quickly turned to worry, anxious that something bad happened to him. Maybe he was in a car accident or was injured while rehearsing.
It wasn’t until you called Jin in a panic that you got an answer. The boys had finished work two hours ago, Jungkook was in the studio with Namjoon working on a new song. You gritted your teeth in anger as you heard Jin knock on the studio door, presumably poking his head in to tell JK that you were on the phone and that you were worried about him.
“Babe, I’m so sorry, I got caught up in work and completely forgot. I’ll come right now. I promise I’m on my way...just stay–” Jungkook was frantically apologizing into Jin’s phone.
“I want to go home,” your tone was calm, collected, downright chilly.
“I’ll come get you,” Jungkook said after a pause.
“Fine.” 
You hung up, putting a polite smile on your face to explain to the waiter that your boyfriend wasn’t coming, thanking him for his patience. The staff offered to cook something for the two of you to send home with you, but you told them there had been a change of plans. Your saccharin tone made your jaw physically hurt.
Jungkook started to apologize as soon as you got into his car, but you held up a hand to stop his speech.
Now he was pulling through the security gate to his apartment complex, parking the car in the garage. The last thing you wanted was to be in his home with him. You wanted to call your best friend crying and be alone. You knew the two of you needed to talk about this, but you were too upset for that to happen tonight.
You sat on a stool at his kitchen counter, Jungkook pacing in front of you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N! I’ll tell you I’m sorry a thousand times. What else can I do?” Jungkook was exasperated, staring across the counter at you. You sat with your arms crossed, eyes downcast.
“I believe that you’re sorry,” you started, “I also don’t know if it’s enough right now.”
You looked up, Jungkook’s fallen expression causing you to grimace in pain. You didn’t like seeing him like this, but he had hurt you. Hurt you like he promised he wouldn’t.
You stood from your chair. “I’d like to take some time to think about things. I think it would be best if I go home.”
“Home? What are you even saying - we are home,” Jungkook said, running his hands through his hair in confusion and frustration.
“No, Jungkook,” he winced at your use of his full name instead of a nickname, “I mean my home. My apartment.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Wha-no absolutely not. You’re not leaving.”
“It’s not up for discussion. Goodnight, Jungkook,” you made your way to the front doorway, putting on whatever shoes you could find, grabbing your coat and purse in haste to leave the thick tension in Jungkook’s home. You hadn’t been to your apartment overnight in weeks. You were practically living at Jungkook’s place at this point. But you felt stifled tonight, you couldn’t breathe here.
You fumbled with your zipper on your jacket, trying to get it up when his tattooed fingers were placed over yours, stopping your movement.
You met his eyes, holding back a whimper at the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes.
“Please...please, Y/N, don’t go. I’ll sleep on the couch, I’ll do anything. Just, don’t go, don’t...don’t leave me.” A tear fell down his cheek. You reached up to wipe it away with your thumb, and he gripped tightly onto your hand, holding it in place against his face.
“Kook, I-I need to go. It’s late, get some sleep.”
He dropped your hand, face full of sadness likely mirroring your own ashen features.
You turned, opening the door.
“I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispered.
“I know.”
You closed the door behind you, tears falling down your cheeks.
---
After a long night of crying on the phone to your best friend, you woke up with swollen eyes and puffy cheeks. Your throat felt dry and scratchy from your tears and talking to her about how frustrated you were with Jungkook.
You loved him so much, that much was undisputed. You just couldn’t help but feel like your relationship had become a burden to him. It was impossible to get him to commit to plans and, when he did, he was late or changed them last minute. Last night was a first, though. You had never been completely forgotten about by him before. It made you realize just how small you had become in his life in the past few weeks.
Your phone vibrated on your nightstand next to you. You let out a loud groan, burying your head in the pillow and willing the noise to stop. It was blissfully silent for a second until it started up again.
Picking up your phone, you glanced at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name and a picture of the two of you smiling with your cheeks smushed up against each other’s in front of the city skyline greeting you. You gulped, answering the phone with a quiet “hi.”
“Y/N…” Jungkook breathed into the phone. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. As soon as you heard his voice, you knew it was going to be a struggle to say what you needed to say.
“Are you going to come home?” Jungkook asked quietly.
“Jungkook…” you began after a deep breath. “I’ve decided I need some space to think right now.”
“What are you saying?” Jungkook’s tone was frantic, a harsh reminder of how he sounded last night trying to get you to stay with him.
“I just need to figure out if I can…if I can keep doing this,” you said, your stomach clenching at your own words.  
“You don’t–do you not want to be with me anymore?” Jungkook asked, voice tense, like he was trying not to cry.
“No, I’m not saying that I just…we need to figure out what we mean to each other, Jungkook. Whether we can prioritize each other enough to make this work.”
“Time away from me is going to help you with that?” Jungkook responded tersely.
“I think it will,” you answered honestly.
“Okay, if that’s what you need, then I understand. Can you promise me one thing?”
“Of course, Jungkook.”
“Remember how much I love you.” Your heart felt like it was caught in your throat, your eyes welling with tears.
“I love you, too.”
---
Jungkook slowly walked into the dorm’s shared living room. He spent the night here last night after you left for your own apartment. His feet felt heavy, phone gripped tightly in his hand in case you called to tell him you changed your mind. He knew that he fucked up last night. He had been doing that a lot lately, now that he thought about it.
Jin was sitting on the couch playing a video game, one of the only other members awake. He looked up at Jungkook, his face falling at the expression on the maknae’s face.  
“I think I might have lost her, hyung,” Jungkook said quietly to Jin.
Jin sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s back as he sat down on the couch beside him, his head in his hands. “If you love her, don’t give up. Show her she’s important to you, and she’ll come home.”
---
It had been two weeks since your conversation with Jungkook. You were going through the motions of your day-to-day, having to stop yourself from texting him when something funny happened at work or you thought of him. You were trying to be strong.
You figured his schedule was just as packed and hectic as usual. You almost envied him; it must be easier to ignore your emotions when you had so many other things to think about.
Flipping open your laptop, you couldn’t help but click on a video of BTS’ most recent interview. Your heart lurched seeing Jungkook, his dark hair swept off of his forehead. He was smiling as he waved to the camera. Your face moved closer to your screen to get a closer look. His eyes looked…sad.
Your eyes stayed glued on him as he fidgeted in his seat, seeming to zone out as the other members answered the interviewer’s questions. He focused in on the second to last question the interviewer asked the band. You turned up the volume on your computer.
“You are constantly upping yourselves, breaking records, doing show-stopping performances. What keeps you going?” The interviewer asked. Jungkook started speaking, much to the obvious surprise of the other members. You wondered what had been going on behind the scenes this day.
“ARMY, of course, is our biggest motivation.” Jungkook responded. The interviewer looked like he was about to move on, but Kook kept talking. “It’s also those people in our lives that cheer for us the loudest in the quietest rooms. We don’t always do a good job of prioritizing them sometimes when things get crazy, but I know that they love us and support us, no matter what, and we love them. I hope they always remember that.”
Your face heated, knowing exactly who Jungkook was speaking to in that interview. Did he hope you would see it? You pulled on your coat and grabbed your keys, knowing you couldn’t wait a single second longer to find out.
---
You knocked loudly on the door to Jungkook’s apartment, the security guard letting you in after giving him your name. You were out of breath, flushed and waiting for your boyfriend to answer the door. You hoped that he was home at this late hour and not at the dorm. 
He opened the door, sleepily rubbing at his eyes. He was wearing a large black hoodie and a pair of sweats, clearly just awoken from sleep by your persistent knocking. His doe eyes widened at the sight of you. 
“Babe…Y/N,” he corrected, unsure of himself. “What are you doing here?”
“I watched the interview,” you said by way of explanation. He smiled softly at you, his head tilting slightly to the side.
“It was the closest I could get to a public apology,” he said, eyes searching yours as you stood in his doorway. “I know I’ve been unappreciative of our relationship lately. I will do better. If you let me try. I’ve barely managed these past few weeks without you.”
“Me too.”
“Can you forgive me?”
You stepped inside the apartment, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and burying your face in his chest.
“Yes, Jungkook, I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.”
His arms came around you to stroke your back, tugging you closer.
You breathed in the scent of Jungkook, knowing that you would always feel at home in his arms.
You pulled back to look up at him, wiping the tears that were on his face away from his cheeks with the sleeve of your coat. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
He pouted at you, clearly wanting more.
You tilted your head, his coming down to meet yours in a soft kiss.
“Does this mean you’ll come home?” Jungkook asked as he pulled away, his fingers brushing against your cheek.
“Absolutely.”
---
Check out my other work! ❤️
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koofly · a month ago
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— THE SEVEN DEADLY CINEMA SINS » SERIES MASTERLIST
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❝ the cinema substitutes for our gaze a world more in harmony with our desires.❞ - andre bazin
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a collection of bts one-shots, delving into seven different cinematic universes. imbued within each world lie tales untold through the flight of imagination; of the fanatical, of the romantic, and of the sinful.  
...care to indulge? 
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main masterlist | navigation 
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GLUTTONY ; PARK JIMIN
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sugar crush | s f | 7.8k — adventure time!au, candy person!jimin x human adventurer!reader
synopsis: you’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth. luckily, jimin has just the thing to satisfy your cravings.
            ➟ ADMIT ONE ... NOW SHOWING
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GREED ; KIM TAEHYUNG
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the okay place | s | — the good place!au
synopsis: you’re dead. good news  — you’ve made it to the good place. bad news — you’re totally not supposed to forking be here. 
but instead of worrying about the state of your (likely, damned) soul, you’re more preoccupied with trying to screw your hot, artsy-fartsy neighbor.
          ➟ ADMIT ONE ... SHOWING NOT AVAILABLE
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WRATH ; JEON JUNGKOOK
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low sun | f s a | — marvel!au, hulk!jk x personal assistant!reader
synopsis: It’s 2013. the world is still grappling with it’s new, terrifying reality following the battle of new york. you however, aren’t losing too much sleep over it. 
seeing as from all of that chaos, came an unexpected job opportunity — from one of earth’s newly unveiled heroes, no less. widely renowned as the hulk, you simply refer to him as boss.
          ➟ ADMIT ONE ... SHOWING NOT AVAILABLE 
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LUST ; JUNG HOSEOK
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turn me on | s | — striking vipers!au / black mirror!au, virtual reality!au
synopsis: a new game has hit the market. The Doves Nest, an x-rated goodie you’re quick to get your hands on. moreover, you seem to strike gold with your very first match up — a devilishly handsome man with a heart shaped smile to boot: username j-hope.    
          ➟ ADMIT ONE ... SHOWING NOT AVAILABLE
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ENVY ; KIM SEOKJIN
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showbiz, baby | s f a | — glee / nyada!au, r2l, e2l
synopsis: as the shining star of your hometown, you’re in for a rude awakening upon entering university. each grueling day is an uphill battle that only gets steeper with time, even more so with the famed winter showcase looming over everyone’s heads; and you won’t let anything stand between you and victory. 
not even kim seokjin — your rival, on and off the stage, and the very bane of your very existence. 
         ➟ ADMIT ONE ... SHOWING NOT AVAILABLE
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PRIDE ; KIM NAMJOON 
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kiss of death | a s f | — attack on titan!au, captain!joon x scout!reader
synopsis: you treat this night as if it is your last with your lover. as it very well may be. 
         ➟ ADMIT ONE ... SHOWING NOT AVAILABLE
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SLOTH ; MIN YOONGI
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soul ghoul | a f s | — tokyo ghoul!au, soulmate!au, apolcypse!au
synopsis: it’s by sheer misfortune that a starving ghoul stumbles upon you; a frail little human girl, teetering on the edge of death without him having to so much as lift a finger. just at first glance, it reads as the classic tale of predator vs prey. a short story, the beginning begetting a close end. what a pity. 
...for yoongi, that is. ‘cause the universe put it in the fine print; it is, without a shadow of a doubt, strictly forbidden to bring harm to your destined soulmate. 
         ➟ ADMIT ONE ... SHOWING NOT AVAILABLE
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copyright © 2021 koofly, all rights reserved. no reposting, modifying, or translations allowed of any kind.
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a/n: inspo for this actually came from watching the anime the seven deadly sins & that channel on youtube that used to be kinda popular (cinemasins) lmao
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yoonpobs · 2 months ago
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with you | ksj | m
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marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.
PAIRING. kim seokjin x reader
GENRE. marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers!au, angst, fluff, smut
WARNINGS. dilf jin, mentions of divorce (it's literally the plot😭), marriage problems, jin is kind of an asshole (who redeems himself!!!-ish), slight jealousy, soft sex, crying during sex, oral (f receiving), bigdick!jin, oc is a crybaby who tries not to cry 99.9% of this fic
WORDS. 22.1k
NOTE. it's here!!!!! I've been working on this fic for a while and im somewhat pleased with how it turned out!!!! i apologise for any errors/edit mistakes bc I run through it on my own so I may overlook some grammar issues etc ...
anywho, I hope you enjoy this fic!!!! as always - my asks are open to let me know how you felt about this fic <3
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“What is this?” he blinks.
“Divorce papers,” you say softly, smoothing out the surface while you avoid his eyes.
“You want,” he says slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he attempts to process your words. “You want a … divorce?”
You hate that he sounds so nonchalant like you weren’t mulling over this decision for the past three months as you found yourself losing hope in your marriage with each passing day. But for as long as you’ve known Jin, he’s always been like this. A little hard to understand, straightforward but never intentionally malicious. He just somehow ended up hurting people without him realising it.
“Yes,” you say.
“What about Jiho?”
The reminder of your son makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, but you were prepared for this question. In fact, your son was the only thing that made you hesitate your decision for another month because divorces were messy and even if Jiho was just four years old and probably too young to understand—he was perceptive and you didn’t want to put him through the taxing emotions of having his parents go through a divorce.
But you were exhausted of fighting alone and returning to a home that feels more isolating than welcoming.
“We’ll share custody,” you narrate the exact words you’ve been mulling over for the past few months, even if it breaks your heart to say them.
“What prompted this?” It hurts even more when Jin flips through the papers as he would with any other of his business contracts, and it’s a harsh reminder that your marriage was reaching an invincible expiry date that you wanted to ignore.
“We …” you hesitate, fingers clutching the fabric of your dress as you purse your lips. Was there a reason to justify your decision anymore, when you’ve fought tooth and nail for the past four months to be heard? To be seen as someone who wasn’t just his wife on paper but a person to be nurtured? You force yourself to look ahead, even when Jin raises an eyebrow at your silence. You settle for a soft response instead. “I think it’s for the best.”
Jin opens his mouth to say something but decides against it before he slides the papers towards him, and you half-expect him to sign it and tell you to leave. The thought only makes your heart shatter even more—because four years of marriage, a child—gone, just like that.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he offers you a curt nod with a look you can’t quite decipher.
“I’ll get back to you,” he says.
You blink, especially when he pushes himself off his desk and extends a hand towards you as if he’d expected you to grab it. The gesture doesn’t fit in with the context of the conversation, much less the emotions that thrash wildly in your heart.
“What are you doing?” you whisper.
“Lunch,” he says, “I haven’t had it with you in a while.”
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“That took a while,” Taehyung points out when you clamber back into your office.
“I had lunch,” you respond curtly as you hang your jacket on the coat hanger while you attempt to ease the pressing headache between your temples.
“Alone?” He raises a brow.
“With Jin.”
Taehyung’s eyes widen as you plop onto the empty seat next to him. Your son’s fidgeting in his lap as your assistant types away at his laptop, and you’re absolutely exhausted so you extend your arms towards Jiho, who immediately turns to you with a toothy grin and leaps off Taehyung’s lap.
“Hi baby,” you press a kiss to his cheek, immediately seeking warmth in your son’s chubby body.
“Hi mama,” he returns, pressing a plush cheek into your chest when you squeeze him.
You try to keep your tears at bay, even if it’s just having your son in your arms. He doesn’t know the day you had or the meal you shared with his father. The man you married and decided to have a child with. Jiho doesn’t know that it’s over—and it hurts. It hurts because he deserved a family filled with love.
“How did it go?” Taehyung asks tentatively, swirling in his chair until he’s facing you.
You know he’s concerned. He was probably the person that received the news with the most shock, granted he was currently the only person that knew besides Jin. Taehyung has been your assistant before you relocated to this larger office and before your business set its course, and even when you and Jin were just dating. So, he knows—he knows how hard you’ve tried and when you decided that it was over.
“He didn’t even try,” you croak, eyes fluttering shut as you attempt to level your breathing to not alarm your son, “Just took the papers and said he’d get back to me.”
“He didn’t sign it?” Taehyung asks in slight surprise.
“No,” you murmur, peering down to see your son fiddling with a ribbon that sticks out your dress, “I didn’t want to ask why.”
Taehyung purses his lips before he reaches out to squeeze your available hand. The gesture is enough to remind you of what you just did—the conversation you just had with Jin, and it’s enough for your entire facade to go crumbling again.
But you don’t cry because your son is unaware of the conflict that exists between you and his father, you don’t cry because one of you needed to be strong and it had to be you.
“I’m sorry.” His apology is sincere but frankly, useless. But you don’t tell him that even if that’s all that plagues your mind. You know Taehyung knows this too, but you suppose it’s the best either of you can offer right now.
“Don’t be,” you laugh humourlessly, “You’re not the one that failed in this marriage.”
“You didn’t fail, ____,” he says sternly, “It just—some things don’t work out.”
Your lips wobble again, looking up so your son doesn’t spot your tears.
“I thought we would,” you croak, “I tried. I tried—so hard. But it still wasn’t enough.”
Taehyung stays silent, and your son is mumbling something under his breath. When you peer down, his smile remains innocent and oblivious to the world that’s falling apart right in front of his eyes.
“Mama, look,” he squeals as he lifts up an arm that he’s somehow managed to scribble on, “Mama, daddy, me!”
Taehyung has to take Jiho when you excuse yourself to the bathroom.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“What do you mean he hasn’t signed it?” You hiss, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you attempt to shove old documents into the shredder.
“He … hasn’t,” Jimin, Jin’s assistant, says lamely over the line as you feel your headache return.
“Jimin, you’re his assistant,” you remind him sternly, “It’s literally your job to make sure he gets shit done.”
“I know!” He exclaims before he’s sighing, “He’s just—he keeps putting it off. I really can’t do much, ____.”
You chuck the last bit of papers aside before you’re grabbing your phone from in-between your ear and shoulders before you’re leaning against a desk, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.
It’s been a week since you visited Jin at his office propositioning him with a divorce, yet, the papers remain vacant from his signature that solidified the termination of your legal union. You were more so irritated than hurt right now, purely because you wanted actual documents to present to your lawyer and your parents before you told them that you and Jin were getting a divorce.
It’s also been a week since Jin’s came home, and you’re partly thankful that he did that on his own because that was another painful conversation you weren’t quite ready to have. Not that he came home at an acceptable hour anyway. But it’s almost daunting at how the bed remains cool where he used to lay, even if he’d disappear hours before your awakening.
“Just,” you exhale, “Please get him to sign it, Jimin. I’m tired.”
You can hear some shuffling on the other end and you assume it’s him moving to another place with the way the office chatter gets distinctively quieter the longer time passes.
“Do you,” he starts, “do you really have to do this?”
You sigh, already bracing for his comment.
If Taehyung knew you and Jin before you got married, Jimin was the person that got the two of you together. The instigator that insisted that the feelings and mutual, and that the chance should be taken. You believed him ten years ago when you were younger and in high school, oblivious to what the future held. You wanted to resent him for how things out but you knew it was irrational. You would’ve fallen in love with Jin with or without Jimin’s intervention.
He was that easy to love.
The bitter reminder that the divorce seemed easy for him to accept, even without the signature, plagues your mind as you hear Jimin call your name once more.
“Do you think this was my first option?” you snap, and immediately the silence is tense. “I was backed into a corner, Jimin. There’s no point in Jin and I remaining married if—if nothing about our relationship feels like a marriage anymore.”
“What about Jiho?” he throws back the same question Jin posed at you when you first came to him with the divorce.
You grit your teeth, your heart inevitably clenching at the guilt that’s yet to subside. It only hurt more because you knew Jimin didn’t mean it to hurt you, but it did—it did because it wasn’t easy.
“I’m not taking him away from Jin,” you whisper, “I can’t—I would never do that.”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jimin says softly.
“I know,” you reply, equally as soft as your eyes dart to the ground, “I hate this, Jimin. I do. But I rather Jiho grow up with two parents who aren’t together than two parents who live together but not even talk.”
Jimin stays silent, and you know that he’s heavily contemplating his next set of words.
You beat him to it with a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I didn’t mean to unload.”
“Please don’t apologise,” he says, “I just … have you tried speaking to Jin?”
You scoff bitterly at the suggestion, and you know that you shouldn’t be taking it out on Jimin, who’s both Jin’s assistant and your close friend—but the nudge to recall the times you’ve tried, tried so hard to patch things up by planning mini-dates that he rain checked more than enough times for you to want to try again—only leaves you feeling sour.
“He clearly doesn’t mind if he says he’ll get back to me,” you say bitterly.
“Have you considered that maybe he only said that because—”
At that moment, your intercom goes off and you briefly hear Taehyung’s static voice filter through the speaker.
“Hold on, Jimin,” you rush as you put your hand to the speaker to lean forward to press the intercom. “Tae?”
“You have an appointment,” he says slowly, and your eyebrows furrow at his odd tone.
“I do?” You say with a puzzled expression, “I don’t remember scheduling an appointment—”
“Well, this isn’t really an appointment,” he laughs tightly.
“Tae,” you frown, “What are you saying?”
“She’s already—”
And at impeccable timing, a rapt knock is delivered to your door as you further scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.
“Jimin, I need to go. I have a visitor,” you bring the phone back up to your ear as you begin heading towards the door.
“No worries,” he clips, “Take care, okay?” He says softly.
You mumble a word of gratitude before you’re hanging up, hand already reaching out to turn to the knob to greet your guest.
You’re still confused before you come face-to-face with them, but the moment the door opens as you plaster a smile to greet your guest—your grin immediately freezes as you spot the one person that you surely didn’t expect to visit your workplace on a weekend, let alone at all.
“E-Eomeonim,” you stutter, eyes briefing landing on Taehyung’s apologetic expression behind your guest's elegant posture.
“Myeoneuri,” she immediately beams, leaning forward to embrace you into a hug that you’re still too stunned to properly returned, and it’s not until she pulls back with furrowed brows that you return the gesture, still frozen in shock as you lean your head against her shoulder.
“What brings you here?” You ask, forcing a smile at the sudden grant of her presence as you shut the door behind you, immediately guiding her towards the empty couch as you head towards your cupboards to bring out the glasses for drinks.
“Ah,” she laughs, gently and polished as ever as you keep your head-trained over your shoulder to engage in eye contact as you pour her some water, “Can’t I visit my daughter-in-law?”
The term doesn’t fall on deaf ears and you force yourself to laugh, even if you know that the term wouldn’t be applicable for much longer. You feel like a fraud, inviting her into your office and offering her water as if you weren’t over at her son’s office a week ago with papers that would immediately terminate any relationship you had with him—or her. Legally, at least.
She was still your son's grandmother and overall, a lovely person.
You grew up with her right next to your house, being the second mother in your life especially when she used to house you on nights where your parents were out of town as you integrated with her two sons and their antics. She cooked for you and treated you like you were her own daughter. Those things didn’t go away just because you were divorcing Jin.
“Of course,” you smile softly as you pass her a glass with two hands, “It’s nice to see you.”
She chuckles politely before taking a sip and setting the glass onto the table, eyes travelling around your office as she takes in your interior.
She’s been here on a few occasions, but they’ve been sprawled out over the years so there have definitely been some changes from when she last came. She doesn’t visit often—to your office, at least—she never had a reason to. So it’s all the more startling and nerve-wracking when she appeared today, conveniently after you proposed a divorce she’s yet to know about.
“I was thinking about you,” she says softly, peering up through her lashes as you gulp, fingers shaking ever so slightly when you take a sip of your drink yourself.
“You’re always free to visit, eomeonim,” you return politely, bowing your head.
She scoffs playfully, waving you off as she leans backwards into your plush couch.
“Don’t be so stiff with me, ____,” she teases, “I’ve changed your diapers.”
You flush at the reminder, and it’s both in fondness and in relative hurt because your family and hers were tight-knit from the very beginning. Your mother and she were best friends even before the two of you were born, and it’s only natural that their children ended up becoming friends. It was always a running joke that they’d hope you and Jin would fall in love and marry—and when it happened, the both of them were ecstatic.
It wasn’t as if they planned it, but fate worked out funnily sometimes. Even when you dated other people in the midst of unsure feelings in high school, you always found yourself returning to Jin. Whether it be in the form of comfort, or a laugh, or just a shoulder to lean on—you always found yourself on the front of his porch, eagerly waiting for another moment with him.
“I know,” you sigh with a small smile, “It’s crazy how long it’s been.”
“Thirty-two years,” she reminds.
You exhale, remember that you were in fact thirty-two this year. The thought that settles is one that is intrusive and annoying, purely because you couldn’t go a moment without remembering the divorce. Your age is another bitter reminder that you’ve really hit the mark with it, essentially starting over when you and Jin promised each other forever.
You take another sip to keep your tears behind.
“Anyway,” she continues as she rests her eyes on you. Her gaze is concerned and you’re stuttering, wondering if you were that obvious—if your face held all your emotions or if she was just that observant. When she speaks, you brace yourself for the worst. “I’ve been trying to contact that son of mine but he keeps sending me to his darned assistant.”
You relax ever so slightly as your lips twitch in a smile.
“Jiminie?” You ask amusedly.
“When he’s getting in the way of talking to my son, he’s a darned assistant,” she huffs, crossing her arms across her chest as you laugh.
“Even now, they’re inseparable,” you comment mindlessly, remembering all the times they used to get into trouble together in high school.
“For the wrong reasons,” she sighs, “That’s why I’m here, actually.”
You raise a brow, “Oh?”
“Seokjung’s planning on proposing,” she informs with an excited grin as your eyes widen.
“Oh my God,” you breath, equally as pleased to hear the news, “Finally? I’m so happy for him and Ah-reum.”
Your mother-in-law sighs wistfully as she smiles tenderly at you, reaching a hand out to squeeze yours as her eyes turn solemn.
“I am too,” she says softly, “My two son’s—Gosh.”
Your hand stiffens under her touch, but you don’t make an effort to correct her. She looks far too happy and emotional at the thought itself that you don’t have the heart to ruin that dream for her. You swallow the lump in your throat and the visual of the divorce papers that plague your mind as you offer a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, “I’m really happy for Seokjung.”
She nods, smiling at you before squeezing your hand again.
“I wanted to let you know myself,” she says, “I was meant to tell Jin but clearly, he’s caught up in whatever work he has,” she rolls her eyes before shooting you a pointed stare. “Make sure you make time for each other, even if he’s busy. That boy always drowns himself in work.”
Your face falls for a split second, but you immediately correct it when you realise the look of concern that marks her face.
You know her comment was made in good faith, she had no idea of your impending divorce … did she? But despite her voice mulling slightly under a whisper, you find that your heart betrays your blank face when it clenches. You should’ve made time for each other. Even if he was busy. You tried—and you failed.
“O-Of course,” you say, squeezing her hand in return.
“Make sure that the three of you spend time together,” she says softly, and you’re terrified that she knows when she mentions your son. “A relationship requires constant effort and dedication.”
“Of course,” you swallow, “I will.”
You hate yourself for lying to her, but you hope that she knows that you tried. That you really tried to pick up whatever that was lost—but some things would inevitably remain shattered.
“Tell Jin to take it easy,” she murmurs, “I worry for him sometimes.”
You nod your head mutely, agreeing silently.
“I’m”—she chokes, suddenly teary as your eyes widen in alarm—“I’m really glad that you have each other.”
It’s another blow that you receive, but force yourself to smile through.
“Eomeonim …” you say quietly, the guilt nabbing away at your heart.
She waves you off, laughing softly before she’s swabbing gently under her eyes to rid of the tears. And as always, she remains stunning as ever—the stark features of Jin apparent on her face, and the resemblance only makes your heart clench even further.
“Your mother and I would always joke about having our kids get married,” she reminisces as you smile tightly at her. “We never thought it would actually happen—but you and Jin …” she trails off with a fond smile, “It made sense. Like it was always meant to happen.”
You can’t take it anymore, but you weren’t allowed to pick your battles this time. You swallow the lump in your throat and hold her hand a little tighter as if an apology was worthy enough to be traced into the wrinkles of her palm. For now, this was all you could offer.
“Thank you, eomeonim,” you whisper, and it’s more than just the words she’s said, but how she’s treated you up until now. An apology also rests on your tongue, but that’s for a later date. When you and Jin no longer share the title of married.
“Don’t thank me,” she scoffs, “Thank you for making Jin’s life brighter. For bringing Jiho into this world.”
You swallow.
“Of course,” you smile, “He’s made mine too.”
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“You’re here,” Jimin blinks, opening the door to let you in as you give him a tight smile.
“I wish I wasn’t,” you mutter under your breath as the two of you walk side-by-side down a familiar hall.
“Listen—” he begins but you cut him off, already too tired to engage with him attempting to convince you otherwise on the divorce.
“I really can’t do this right now, Jimin,” you say quietly and he looks at you with an apologetic look that you ignore to save your heart from more tears. “I’m only here because Jin isn’t answering his mother’s damn calls.”
“He’s in the middle of an important business deal,” Jimin says weakly.
“When is he not?” You roll your eyes as you huff, feet clacking against the marble as you turn into a familiar corridor where your eyes rest on the plague with the name of your husband, a name that you’ve welcomed into your life and in your son's name—a name that you’ve grown up with. You push aside the ache in your heart as you reach towards the door to knock. “Listen, I know you’re his best friend and his assistant but … tell him to remember that his job isn’t the only important thing in his life, yeah?”
Jimin doesn’t say anything but waits with you, and you briefly hear the shuffling of feet from the other end. You can tell Jimin wants to say something with the way that he’s impatiently tapping his feet against the ground, and you don’t placate him like you usually do because you know that you weren’t ready to hear whatever he had to say.
“Jin’s—”
The door swings open, and it isn’t Jin that you see. It’s—
“Isa,” you smile tightly.
“____,” she exclaims, immediately trotting over in her heels as she towers over you, arms wrapping you into a hug that you don’t expect. When she pulls away, you see her bright teeth in between her red lips. “You’re glowing! Are you pregnant?”
You shoot her a blank look, and you feel Jimin’s eyes widen.
“I’m not,” you say dryly.
“Oh,” she blinks, “Could’ve sworn you were,” she says off-handedly before she moves out the way, only for Jin to appear behind her with a vacant expression on his face, eyes immediately falling onto your unimpressed figure.
“____?” He furrows his eyebrows, “What are you doing here?”
You push past Isa, who you briefly see from the corner of your eye, press two rather friendly kisses onto your husband—well, soon to be ex-husbands—cheeks. She’s always done that, claiming that it was from her French roots even if you knew deep down that she had the hots for her husband. You don’t want to know why she’s here, appropriately right when you and Jin were in the middle of a divorce. Unless she’s representing him as his lawyer, you didn’t want to humour the thought.
“Your mother says you aren’t answering her,” you don’t spare him another glance, or Jimin, who is all but offering you a timid smile right before he shuts the door to the office, leaving you and Jin alone.
“I’ve been busy,” he replies.
“You couldn’t even just send a damn text to your own mother?” you ask irritatedly as you plop into a seat in front of his desk.
“I had Jimin do it,” he says with a frown.
You roll your eyes, bitter that you had to be here—bitter about the divorce—bitter about gorgeous Isa who just left his office. You were bitter about everything, and now you were here, with your soon-to-be ex-husband.
“Really, Jin,” you deadpan, “You couldn’t even spare two seconds to let your mom know that you were—I don’t know—alive?”
He sighs as if you were pointing out irrational facts and not attempting to get him to do things himself for once. To maintain relationships with people without a damn middleman. You were a victim once, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let his mom suffer the same painful fate as you did.
“It’s been hectic at the office,” he says curtly, “I did eventually get back to her.”
“Yeah,” you scoff, “After she visited me at my office.”
“She visited you?” he furrows his brows.
You roll your eyes, “It doesn’t matter. She told me that your brother is planning on proposing and she’s expecting us to be there at the engagement party.”
“I know,” he sighs, “I don’t think I can make it.”
You still.
“What?”
“The investors planned for a meeting that same week and I—”
“He’s your brother,” you splutter in disbelief, rage slowly assimilating in your blood when Jin shoots you with another blank look that you’ve grown to resent, especially recently.
“I can’t do anything about the investors, ____,” he frowns.
“You’re the CEO!” you balk, “You call the shots. You literally make the rules. He’s getting engaged and you can’t even try to make it?”
His brows turn downwards at your harsh tone, but you were unbothered. The disbelief that marks your face is reflective of how your heart slowly burns in anger, the way that your fists clench by your side. Even now, as you attempt to knock some sense of rationality into Jin—you find yourself exhausted. It’s because—this—is familiar. It’s the same routine you found yourself fighting against, now only applied to his direct family. If you weren’t considered that.
“They’re flying in from the States,” he says pointedly.
“And that matters more than your brother because?” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, “Don’t be fucking selfish, Seokjin.”
You don’t think you’ve referred to him as his full name in years. Even before the two of you dated. You always called him Jin because it was more intimate that way. Only business associates that he was professional with called him Seokjin. It was an unspoken rule that Seokjin was the persona he adapted with people that he needed on his side, not people he wanted by his side.
You’re too busy seething to see the way his face drops ever so slightly, but he’s quick to correct himself when he purses his lips at you.
“I’m at crossroads, ____,” he snaps, “On one hand, it’s my brother who I’m going to disappoint, or—it’s the ten investors that are eager on investing in this company. I can’t win—and right now, I need them on my side.”
“I can’t believe that you actually need to choose who’s more important right now,” you laugh humourlessly, eyes meeting his for a split second as you frown. “It’s your family, Seokjin. It’ll always be your family. You choose your family—you—you choose the people you love.”
Your words are venomous and purposeful when you spit at him, immediately pushing yourself off the seat. Your words refer to more than his brother, or his mother. It’s personal—and it hurts. You didn’t want him to see you cry, you don’t think he’d care anyway.
“Wait,” he sighs, following you until he’s at your door, hand blocking you from leaving, “I …”
You turn around, eyes fluttering shut as you even out your breathing. When you open them, it’s intuitive for you to believe that you were able to read him, especially after a decade of being together—but you can’t. Your eyes are blurred with more than just your fatigue, but it’s disappointment too.
“What?” you sigh, “I don’t—I don’t care what you do Seokjin. But just know that when you’re closing whatever damned business deal you have for profits—your family is missing you.”
You turn to leave, not expecting him to do anything further than where you’ve left it at—but his hand reaches for your shoulder to stop you, your body tensing at his touch that you haven’t felt in a long time.
“I’ll,” he begins, nibbling on his lip when you raise a brow at him. It’s the most you’ve gotten out from him in a long time, but it’s not enough for you to read what the hell is going on in his mind. “I’ll be there.”
You roll your eyes, “Whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it happen.”
You go to push his hand off but his grip remains firm on your shoulder as he furrows his brows at you.
“We’ll go together,” he says.
You blink.
“I can go there myself,” you clip back curtly.
“They don’t know,” he blinks, “Right?”
He’s talking about the divorce.
Your body stills under his grip as you scowl.
“Of course they don’t,” you snap, “I won’t do that to your mom,” you say softly, “Not now.”
He doesn’t ask you to elaborate, even when your eyes turn sad as they dart to the floor.
“Then we’ll go together,” he says simply, “It’s easier that way.”
You don’t argue anymore because your mind just recalls the conversation you shared with his mother, the woman who’s simultaneously raised you along with your own mother. The woman you’ve shared fond memories with, and the woman whose heart you were inevitably going to break with the news of the divorce.
“Fine,” you sigh, finally shrugging off his hand as you turn towards the door to finally leave.
The door opens, and you’re already halfway out when his voice interrupts you.
“Your dress,” he says softly.
You stop, turning your head slowly as you raise a brow.
“… my dress?” You look down at your attire and you note that it’s a simple knee-length dress that you’ve had for years. It was strapless, but casual enough for you to wear on a daily basis—and definitely nothing noteworthy about it.
“You wore it during our honeymoon,” he states as your body locks at the mention of the memory.
You don’t even remember if you did—so you can’t confirm whether or not he was pulling your leg. But the look that Jin sends you is … you can’t quite put a word to it but it looks soft. Gentle, almost fond. But it goes as quick as it comes before he’s offering you a small smile.
“I don’t remember,” you say bluntly.
His face remains blank, even if there’s a slight drop at his lips.
“Well,” he clears his throat before he steps out of the way to make space for your departure, “You look beautiful.”
The compliment steals your breath away, not because he’s never said it before but because it’s unexpected. It’s unexpected because you were divorcing him, and you haven’t heard those words leave his lips in a long time—directed to you, at least. You’re breathless because your heart is ramming against your chest, and there’s a painful feeling lingering.
You also remember the woman that’s left his office. You know it’s irrational for you to feel this way when you were the one that suggested the divorce. But it’s only proof at his options, especially when he was … he was him.
It’s hope—but you’re not an idiot to allow yourself to burn twice.
“I,” you croak, shaking your head as you manage a tight nod, “Thank you.”
When you leave, you have to force your tears back—without sparing another glance at Jin. When Jimin passes by you, he knows well enough not to ask.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“Have you got everything?” Taehyung asks, helping you with the bag filled with Jiho’s things as you snort at his overeagerness of getting you out of the office.
“Yes, Tae, I have,” you say with an amused grin. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you actually cared about my well-being.”
He gasps with a faux sense of offence as he places a hand on his chest, shooting you a look that you roll your eyes at.
“Of course I do!” He pouts, “My boss is getting the break she deserves,” he says before peering down to Jiho, who’s tiredly dozing off in your arms since it was in the wee hours of the morning, “But I’ll definitely miss this one.”
He pokes Jiho softly on the cheek but your son doesn’t even so budge. He’s exhausted, and you were too—but you were more used to staying up late packing last-minute than your son was so you brush his hair gently before placing a soft peck to the crown of his head.
You know Taehyung will miss Jiho, purely because you’ve been at the office more than your home through the past week. You couldn’t bear to return to a space that was void and only had the title of a home when it didn’t feel like it anymore. It was the most difficult explaining to Jiho, who sought his dad’s attention and you couldn’t give it to him. A business trip was the best you got.
“Thank you, by the way,” you smile gratefully at your assistant as the three of you are taken down to the lobby of your office via the lift.
“Don’t,” he says sternly as you giggle softly at his tone, “Thank you for leaving.”
“I knew it,” you narrow your eyes as you stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just happy that I’m gone.”
“It’s four days,” he reminds, “You need a longer break. You’ve been working non-stop.”
You know his jibe is stern despite his light tone, purely because he’s aware of your tendency to ignore your problems by overworking yourself. He’s seen you devote all your energy to reports and analysing data than acknowledge the impending shatter in your heart.
“That’s long enough,” you sigh, “Make sure you—”
“Yes,” he groans as the two of you finally reach the lobby, offering a polite smile toward the receptionist as he returns the gesture. “Did you forget that I’m your assistant? God forbid I’m incompetent.”
You sniff even if you don’t disagree. You didn’t hire him just because he was your friend, but because he’s proven himself over and over again on his capabilities, you needed someone that was lax enough to balance out your perfectionist tendencies but also precise with his work. Taehyung was the perfect mixture of that—so it made sense that he’s stuck with you since you first hired him.
“Call me if you need anything,” you remind as the two of you spot Jin’s car, a sleek range rover fit for the rather long travel. You let out an exhale at the prospect of being in a car with your own husband for the next four hours as you travel out to his family vacation home, but your son needed you—and he needed his dad, so you brace yourself.
“Yes,” he sighs, and you see Jin step out of the car, a t-shirt and sweats combo that you adored him in. You look away.
“Taehyung,” you hear Jin greet your assistant as the two males engage in a rather amicable bro-hug.
“Hey, hyung,” he smiles softly, “How are you?”
You busy yourself with making sure that Jiho’s head doesn’t slip off your shoulders, but you note that your son’s awake this time—sensing the presence of his father as he groggily flutters his eyes open to search for him.
“Could’ve been better,” Jin returns, though not unkindly as his eyes dart towards his son, eyes softening immediately when Jiho calls for him through a mumble.
“Daddy?” He mumbles, immediately shaking out of your grasp as he extends his arms to be held by Jin. You swallow, but you allow Jin to take him from you. He hasn’t seen your son in over a week, and you would never be the person that deprived him from his own blood.
“Jiho,” he whispers, “Tired, bud?”
Your son nods his head, immediately snuggling into the comfort of his father’s chest as you force yourself to look away, distracting your mind as you help Taehyung load your belongings into the boot of Jin’s car.
“Where were you?” Your son asks innocently, “Mama said trip.”
“Yeah,” Jin says breathlessly, eyes meeting yours for a split second as you look away. “Missed you so much.”
“We miss you too,” Jiho pouts, and you don’t correct him when he alludes to you either.
“You okay?” Taehyung whispers, hand clasping your shoulder as you blink away the heat behind your eyelids. It was too early to cry, and you’ve spent the past week crying at random intervals so you were tired of shedding tears.
“I’ll survive,” you smile tightly as Taehyung finally loads the last bag, closing the boot with a button before shuffling back to the curb where Jin continues to cradle your son in his arms.
You’ve known him before you could properly speak, and you intimately recognise the expression on his face. He looks … sad. And it’s the most emotion you’ve seen on his face ever since you approached him with the divorce. You know that the worst part of it all is that Jiho is caught in the crossfire, and what hurts the most is that you didn’t want him to be.
“Thank you,” Jin looks over to Taehyung before he reaches out to give him a semi-awkward hug due to the little boy in his arms. “For taking care of the both of them.”
You almost don’t catch it, but you do despite the hushed tone he takes. Your eyes dart to the ground before you head towards the door to the passenger seat, already too overwhelmed at the break of dawn.
You enter the car, taking a deep breath to even out your breathing and force your tears back. You hated yourself for crying so easily but you knew that it wasn’t just your crybaby tendencies, but it was the pent up emotions that you’ve suppressed for months resurfacing after months of repression. You catch the two men through the side-mirror in a rather intense conversation, though you don’t hear anything of what they’re saying. You know they’re not raising their voices because Jiho finds it peaceful enough to drift off into slumber.
When Taehyung catches your eyes through the side-mirror, he offers you a smile, one that you can’t quite read before he’s patting Jin on the back and giving him one last solemn look.
He’s quick to set Jiho at the backseat, fastening him in the booster seat and placing a soft pillow to support his neck. Your heart both grows fond and tighter when he places a soft kiss on your son’s forehead before carefully shutting the door, quickly entering the driver’s seat as he fastens himself in.
“There’s pineapple juice and gummies, by the way,” Jin breaks the silence as your eyes snap to his figure.
“Oh.”
“I know you don’t like travelling without them,” he mentions while he simultaneously setting up the GPS.
“I—thank you,” you reply softly, eyes dropping to the middle console, and in fact, spotting your favourite brand of pineapple juice and gummies sitting comfortably, waiting for your consumption.
You swallow, deciding against digging in immediately.
“My phone’s already connected to the Bluetooth so you can play any song,” he tells you, “The password’s the same.”
Your breath hitches. His password, the one he’s kept since college even if you’ve berated him for it on multiple occasions because of how predictable it was. Your anniversary date, the day when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. Even after you got married, he never changed it to your wedding anniversary date because he didn’t need to. He was that sentimental, proposing to you on the same day as when he first asked you out.
God, what was he doing to your heart?
You don’t say anything when you reach for his phone, and it’s like the universe is dead-set on reminding you of all the memories you shared with him when you spot the picture at the back of his clear phone case.
A polaroid of the both of you on your wedding night, face smushed with cake as the two of you double over in laughter.
Don’t cry, you tell yourself.
You type in the password when Jin finally ignites the engine, pulling out of the lobby as you finally start your four-hour journey. When you scroll through his phone to find the music app, you’re also surprised to see a familiar playlist.
“You still listen to it?” you find yourself asking, despite your heart clenching again.
Jin looks over his shoulder to catch a glance at his phone that was in your hands to see what you were talking about before he nods.
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I don’t really listen to anything else.”
It’s the playlist the two of you made when you were rather drunk one night during your marriage. A random playlist filled with songs that didn’t really go well together, from upbeat tracks to mellow ballads that have your heart weeping and to R&B songs that set the mood.
It’s the millionth time that you swallow your tears, and you know it’s not going to be the last. It’s because it’s been less than twenty minutes back in close vicinity with Jin when you’re reminded that your lives are both so intertwined with one another that every aspect of his and your lives have remainders of your essences. Whether it be the scarf you precariously spotted at the back of the seat you remember leaving, or whether it was the keychain that dangles from his rearview mirror—or the damn playlist.
It was everything, and it hurt that you had to let it go.
You play a song that’s in the middle. Safe. A quiet tune that filters through the speakers as you turn the volume lower so that it wouldn’t startle your son awake.
“If you get tired halfway just let me know and I can take over,” you inform him.
You’re surprised to hear Jin scoff with a shake of his head, though when you turn to look at him, there’s a small smile on his face.
“You’re a terrible driver, so no,” he laughs.
You gasp, squinting your eyes at him.
You’ve gotten … better. Though your better was still debatably worse than the average person, it was progress nevertheless!
“I won’t get us killed,” you hiss at him, pouting as you cross your arms across your chest, “Besides, I don’t trust myself to drive if you’re not around, anyway.”
You don’t realise what you said, or the implications behind it. But you think Jin does when he flicks his eyes over to you, staring softly as you blatantly miss it to continue pouting while you stare forward, grumbling about being a better driver as he can’t take his eyes off of you.
“Don’t worry,” he says so quietly that you almost miss it, “Get some rest. I’ll drive us.”
You open your mouth to argue but the look he gives you makes you clamp your mouth shut in defeat. In all the times you’ve travelled by car with Jin, you don’t think you’ve ever driven the both of you, or even when Jiho became an addition to the family, because Jin was always so insistent on doing the heavy loaded things.
It was something that both annoyed you, but you were grateful for. You knew when Jin offered to do stereotypically husband things such as carrying the groceries, building furniture or driving you everywhere—it never came from a place where he believed you couldn’t do it. He knew you could because whenever he wasn’t around you did those things yourself, and dare you say, even better than him (with the exception of the driving). It was because he wanted to do these things for you, to have you worry about nothing but just yourself, him and Jiho.
The thoughts plague your mind, and suddenly everything is bitter again. You almost deluded yourself into thinking that things were normal and this was a normal family trip. But it wasn’t. Because you were inevitably going to get divorced, once he signed those papers.
“Hey, Jin?” you call.
He hums noncommittally as you fiddle with your fingers.
“When are you going to sign the papers?”
The question stills in the tense air, and you don’t catch the way his shoulders lock into position at your question.
“Soon,” he says curtly.
You nod your head slowly, eyes drifting out the window as you keep your sigh to yourself.
Yeah, it’d be over soon.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“You’re going the wrong way.”
“I’m literally following the GPS,” he says dryly.
“Then the GPS is wrong,” you snap, “The service is horrible here—god—make a left.”
“I’m not going to be listening to a person who gets mixed up with East and West,” he deadpans.
“That was like—ages ago! I’ve changed!”
“Not taking the chance,” he snorts, going against your very orders of turning left as he makes a right, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder as you glare at him.
“Pull over, I’m driving because I clearly don’t remember taking this road the last time.”
“Roads change, ____,” he groans, “Infrastructure and public goods! It’s government-funded so our tax money damn well better be used for good.”
“Still,” you say petulantly, “You’ve been driving the entire time—it’s time to switch.”
“I never agreed to that,” he says pointedly as you hear your son humming along to the song, giggling every once in a while when you’d get particularly frustrated with Jin.
“You’re going to cramp,” you say.
“I won’t,” he sighs before looking over to you, then into your lap where the gummies lay. “How about you feed me instead?”
You still at the suggestion, the rather intimate one in fact. Though you’ve done this a million times before, bickering during road trips and feeding him—it feels different now. But you know your son is watching, even if he doesn’t understand the severity of the situation, and you didn’t want to throw him off.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” you grumble before pouring out some gummies into your hand and shoving it towards him.
His eyes briefly cast downwards before ignoring your hand, eyes returning to the road as you gawk at his blatant dismissal.
“Um, hello?” you say in disbelief, “Gummies?”
You wiggle your hand in front of his face but he’s still ignoring you, a somewhat smug expression on his face as you scowl even further.
“Do you want gummies or not?” You snap.
“I do,” he shrugs, “I asked you to feed me, didn’t I?”
You give him a bland look.
“They’re literally right there.”
“You know what feeding means, right?” he sighs dramatically, “You do that with Jiho. You know—feeding someone. Putting food in their mouth.”
“I’ll put something in your mouth all right,” you grit as he grins, “My fist.”
“Please,” he whines as you roll your eyes, “My hands are on the steering wheel. You’re always telling me to keep two hands on the wheel yet you’re making me feed myself?” He pouts and you can’t believe this is a thirty-five-year-old man that’s speaking. “That hardly seems—”
You’ve had enough of his complaints as you begrudgingly smack your hand towards his mouth, effectively feeding him a gummy as he nearly chokes while his eyes bulge out of his sockets.
“Ow!—what the f—?” you glare at him at his near slip up as he clears his throat, “That hurt.”
“Oh, really,” you hum blandly, “Would you like another?” You smile plastically at him as he pouts.
“Yes please, but spare my lips,” he mutters.
You roll your eyes but listen to him anyway. You didn’t want to startle him into swerving off the road so you feed him the next gummy gentler. But you’ve underestimated Jin’s ability to be exasperating as he ends up biting your finger in retaliation for your previous stunt.
“Ow!” you hiss, glaring at him as you go to flick his forehead.
All he does is snicker, even if he does manage to dodge your finger.
“Revenge,” he says childishly, sticking a tongue out at you.
“You’re so annoying,” you seethe.
“You love it,” he smiles over his shoulder—and you freeze.
He realises what he’s said only when he spots your frozen expression. He’s about to rectify the mistake and dissipate the tension that arose, but your son is intercepting before Jin can make the shot.
“Love!” he giggles, innocent and childlike, “Love mama and daddy.”
Your eyes filter to the back as you see your son giggling, cheeks bulged as he smiles widely at you. For a split second, you’re reminded of Jin when he was a toddler, with puffy cheeks and a cheeky grin as your eyes soften at him. He really did look like Jin, much to your initial disappointment when he looked more like Jin’s child than your own. Even if your parents and in-laws said that Jiho had your eyes.
“Love you, bubs,” you coo, reaching out to squeeze his chubby fingers as he smiles wider.
“Love you,” Jin replies as well, eyes soft when he catches his son’s expression through the rearview mirror.
“Say it!” he babbles, huffing as you raise a brow.
“Love you, Jiho—”
“No no no,” he harrumphs, cutely folding his arms across his chest as you attempt to figure out what his toddler mind was getting at. “Each other—mama and daddy.”
You get it soon enough, and your expression drops completely as you feel the anxiety rise in your throat.
You were getting a divorce. Your son had no idea. He asked you to declare your love to Jin. Why did you feel oddly targeted right now, by a four-year-old, no less!
“Jiho—” you laugh, attempting to distract him but your son is persistent.
“Mama,” he scolds with a frown and you curse yourself for giving him the one trait of your own that you couldn’t bear to deal with yourself, “Say.”
You glance over to Jin who’s already giving you a passing look, a rather earnest expression marring his face as you clear your throat. Suddenly, everything’s more intense, and all you can see is his face. There was a time where the two of you abused your I love you’s that it was the first thing you heard in the morning and the last thing you heard at night. So why was it so difficult now? Why was it difficult to tell a little white lie in front of your son?
Perhaps it’s because the love never disappeared, from your end at least. And maybe that’s why all of this is all the more painful.
Before your son can throw a tantrum at your silence, Jin is reaching over the console to grasp your hand in his in a familiar manner as he brings your knuckle up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to it.
When your head turns to him with your eyes wide in shock, he doesn’t break eye contact even as you’re about to yell at him for not looking at the road.
“Love you,” he whispers, and you don’t know if Jiho had even heard it with how soft he’s said it, but you think he does because he stops whining.
All you can do is stare at him, especially at how earnestly the confession leaves his lips. But you remember that it’s fruitless to keep hope, to have your heart flutter at his low voice—because the divorce papers existed, and it’s the first time in a while that you’ve heard it, and it was only because your son demanded so.
You pull your hand away, albeit roughly as your eyes dart out the window to distract yourself, to suck up the tears again.
You’re looking away quick enough that you don’t catch the crestfallen expression on Jin’s face.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“Jiho-yah,” Jin’s mother immediately runs up to your son rather than greet you or Jin as your son excitedly receives the hug, squeezing into his grandmother’s arms as he lifts him up.
“Halmeoni,” he giggles, “Miss you!”
Your face softens as you see the way Jin’s mother presses wet smooches on both of your son’s cheeks, accompanied slowly by your father-in-law, who’s far more mellowed down than his wife, as he greets you with a wide grin.
“Is this a way to greet your father-in-law?” He jokes when you simply smile at him as you roll your eyes at his light jibe.
“Come here,” you sigh playfully, opening your arms to embrace him as you feel the comfort of a familiar father figure.
“Yes, let’s ignore your actual son, right?” Jin snorts, huffing as he lugs your belongings onto the porch.
His mother’s ears perk up as she shoots him a stern glare that still doesn’t fail to have him cowering. Mother’s really are terrifying when they wanted to be.
“At least she responds to messages,” his mother narrows her eyes at him as Jin smiles meekly in response, probably regretting his words, “I know you’re grown but I’m still your mother—I’ll take you out of that damned company and put you under house arrest."
“Mom,” he exasperates, ears flushed as you snicker at him.
“House arrest?” Jiho repeats, confused.
You pick him up before pressing a kiss in between his brows to soothe the furrow.
“Daddy’s being dumb,” you explain.
“Gang up on me, all right,” Jin snorts, already heading towards the door to bring your stuff in.
His father pats him on the back before shooting him a pointed look.
“A word of advice son,” he murmurs with a low voice, “you’re never right. Your wife is.”
Jin sighs, and you can’t help the amused grin that makes its way onto your face. Even if he had referred to you as his wife—and you knew that it wouldn’t be the case for long, it feels nice to be with them again, even if your utopia would eventually get destroyed.
“The guest room on the second floor is for the kids,” his mother informs, “Jin’s cousins are bringing their children along as well so Jiho won’t be alone.”
You smile gratefully towards her as you guide Jiho towards the home, while the rest of them follow slowly behind.
When you enter, you’re immediately greeted by Jin’s older brother, another familiar figure that you’re grinning widely at as he enthusiastically extends his arms that you immediately jump into.
Jiho’s following close by, tiny figure wrapping around his uncle’s legs as Seokjung picks the little one up with ease.
“Ah, my favourite sister,” he coos playfully, pinching your cheek as you roll your eyes.
“Your only sister,” you correct pointedly.
He’s always referred to you as his sister, even before you married Jin—purely because he was there for you like an older brother was. Since he was two years older than Jin, meaning he was five years older than you, he always looked out for you and took care of you when you were children—and you were immensely grateful for that.
“Semantics,” he waves you off before pressing a kiss to Jiho’s cheek, “Missed you, buddy.”
“You too samchon,” Jiho quips back cheerfully, “Noona?”
He’s referring to Ah-reum, and Seokjung only grins wider.
“She’s coming in two days,” he informs in a hushed whisper, “I’m going to propose to her.”
Jiho tilts his head to the side cutely in confusion.
“Pro-propose?” He mumbles as you laugh softly, patting his head in fondness.
“I want to marry noona,” he whispers with a wink.
“Like—mama? Daddy?” he gasps.
“Like mama and daddy,” Seokjung nods as you swallow.
You look away, feeling like a fraud, especially when at that very moment, Jin brushes up against you with a gentle hand to the small of your back that you flinch at. The look he sends you is concerned, but you know it’s because of what his brother had said. Of course, it was, it couldn’t be anything else.
“Come Jiho,” you say softly, “Let’s get you into your room, yeah?”
He nods eagerly before you’re shooting Seokjung an apologetic smile.
“Hey,” he calls right as you turn, Jin close by your side. “Are you … are you okay?”
The question makes you freeze for a moment as you attempt to school your face and power through the grimace that almost appears.
“Of course,” you clip, “Don’t worry about me. You’ve got a girlfriend to propose to,” you say through a tight smile before squeezing his shoulder before you’re turning on your heel, face immediately dropping.
Jin almost chases after you, but he decides against it when you distract yourself by fiddling with the hem of your son’s pants. It was a habit of yours, finding solace in your son because he’d never do you or anyone wrong, though you could’ve been biased because you played a part in creating him and pushing him out of your vagina.
He wouldn’t do you wrong, you think as he mumbles about marriage under his breath. You really wished he wasn’t so curious.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“I forgot how big your family was,” you say a little breathlessly as you escape the fifth aunt of the hour asking about your life and work. That was fine, small talk was okay. Not asking when baby number two was coming along when you were divorcing their precious nephew.
“Sorry,” Jin winces, moving over so that you could plop onto the rattan chair, “it gets bigger every year because of the kids.”
You know that’s true because, for some reason, Jin’s family was as fertile as a fertility clinic. You were sure that they could single-handedly repopulate the human species if Thanos really did snap half the universe away. It’s also probably the reason why Jin managed to get you pregnant three months into your marriage, four years ago.
“Jiho’s trying to break up an argument between the twins,” you sigh when you tilt your head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of your son helplessly standing in the middle of two older kids as they banter back and forth. Your son was too sweet for his own good, but it was also way too amusing to see his eyebrows furrow as he attempts to get their attention.
“Maybe we should tell our son to not waste his time doing impossible things,” he snorts.
“It’s good character development,” you reason, “It’ll teach him to acknowledge his potential.”
Jin shoots you a dry look before turning his head to the scene where the twins were now tugging at each other’s locks like they were in the tug of war as your son can only watch the scene unfold. You really should tell him that that wasn’t how you resolved conflict, even if their parents humourlessly stand by and allow it to happen.
“I’m not giving our son ammunition for his villain origin story,” he scoffs, “I’m going there—”
“Relax,” you stop him from moving any further with a gentle hand to his bicep out of habit, even if your brain stutters for a split second as you clear your throat, “Your mom’s got him.”
As you’d also like to call her, the heroine of the day, Jin’s mother picks up her grandson before cooing something that you can’t hear from how far you are. You’re thankful when she makes eye contact with you, offering a wink before she’s showing him off to her family members.
The sight makes your heart fond because everyone seemed to love Jiho, you really don’t blame them. You fell in love with Jiho before he was born and you would love him until you didn’t know love anymore. You never knew that being a mother would be this monumental for you, in fact, you never knew if you wanted children anyway.
But when things were … brighter. Jin was the only reason you needed. Then, you wouldn’t have wanted to do this parenting thing with anyone else. The bitter thought of co-parenting plagues your mind and the anxiety of attempting to explain the situation to your son doesn’t ease your nerves at all. Even thinking about telling Jin’s family has you feeling nauseous—you were the real villain. The heartbreaker of it all.
“It’s been a while,” he says, snapping you out of your thoughts as you blink up at him.
“Sorry?”
“It’s been a while since we,” he looks down to his cup before throwing back the last bit of orange juice in it, “Since we had a vacation.”
You snort, “I’d hardly call this a vacation. There are screaming kids and your brother is having ten mental breakdowns a day before the actual proposal.”
“I mean, I guess,” he shrugs, “We just haven’t had the time—to take one. This is nice.”
You don’t know what he’s implying but you know it makes your heart clench at the insinuation. You almost wanted to bitterly add that you tried to make time despite your own busy schedule. It was him that put it off. It was him that didn’t have the time.
“Yeah,” you say quietly, too tired to fight, “It is.”
“Why”—he hesitates for a second as his eyebrows furrow while you raise a brow at the sudden jerk of his tone—“why did you suggest—?”
“Jin?”
Your head turns, and you recognise the voice before you see the approaching figure and you already feel sick to your stomach. Not because you knew what Jin was going to say before he was cut off, but because of the person that comes into your vision. You should’ve seen it coming, really, because this was Seokjung’s engagement party and it wouldn’t make sense if—
“Chahee?” Jin greets in confusion before he’s being pulled into a tight embrace.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she whines, “Weren’t you going to come to say hi?”
Your jaw ticks as you look away from the scene before you.
When there was you and Jin, there was also Chahee and Jin. They’ve never dated, though you knew that if the opportunity presented itself, she’d be the first person up in line anyway. But with every relationship, also came with relationship troubles and unfortunately for you, Chahee was the instigator for most of your relationship insecurities with Jin.
It’s because you weren’t the only person that was a constant in Jin’s life—she was too.
Of course, she’d be here, and of course, she’d still look at Jin with a determination to make him hers. Even if you’re here, face blank as you wait and see if she’d actually acknowledge you this time.
“I,” he swallows, eyes darting to you, fully aware of what her presence implies. But your head is trained to the side, pointedly ignoring it for the sake of your sanity. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
She scoffs as if he’s said something absurd, which in retrospect, he did—because clearly, she’d be here. Where he goes, she’ll try her best to be there.
“Of course, I am!” She chirps, “It’s Seokjung’s big day—and besides, I missed you.”
You nearly roll your eyes to the back of your head and the audacity of this fucking chick. Sure, you were divorcing him, but to everyone else—you were his wife. And you were very much still together, even if it felt like it’s ended months ago.
“It’s good to see you,” he smiles politely, not making much effort to pull away when she rubs at the back of his neck. You’d clock her if you weren’t civilised, but instead, you take a sip of your drink and hope it doesn’t end up in her face.
“You too,” she smiles flirtatiously before she decides to finally acknowledge you. You think it’s a new record. “____, you’re here.”
She sounds much less enthusiastic than before, and you don’t blame her—nor do you plaster a smile on your face. Instead, you tilt the drink up to her and nod your head, giving her a less than a satisfactory greeting. You couldn’t even bother clarifying the obvious because you were Seokjung’s sister-in-law, Jin’s wife; and the mother to the adorable boy who’s currently stealing the show. Silence was a pettier option.
Her fake smile drops when she realises that you weren’t bothered, and you’re glad she doesn’t attempt to be plastic with you anymore when you’re fully aware that she’d sleep with Jin if given the chance.
“What’s up with her?” You hear her mutter to him as you roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to leave the two of them alone.
Alarmed, Jin hastily grabs your arm before you can leave, “She’s—uh, not feeling well.”
“I’m feeling—”
“Acting up at a family event?” Chahee scoffs. You would seriously slap her.
“Listen—” you sigh.
“Pregnancy,” Jin blurts as you nearly stumble from how flabbergasted you are, “You know hormones—not easy.”
You would seriously slap him too.
“You’re … pregnant?” she says slowly, jaw slackening as you see her eyes darken.
“Don’t listen—”
“We need to get you indoors,” Jin smiles tightly, “The sun—yeah. Not good for the baby.”
Before you can even get another word in, Jin’s dragging you into the house as you yelp, spotting the last glare that Chahee sends you before she’s downing the alcoholic beverage in one-go and stomping off somewhere.
When you’re settled into a private corner in the kitchen, only then do you yank away your arm from Jin with a menacing glare.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snap.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he sighs, “She was—she’s crazy.”
“And you had to be crazy too?” you ask incredulously, “How the fuck would telling her that I’m pregnant solve anything?”
“It’s to get her to back off!” he hisses.
“If a baby would get her to back off then she would’ve done that when I was pregnant with Jiho,” you say dryly.
“I panicked, okay,” he exasperates.
You scowl.
“Well fix it,” you snap, “We’re getting divorced, Jin. Chahee’s going to run her mouth and if it gets to any of your family members then there’s no way we can break our split to them.”
You sound much more bitter than you’d anticipated, but who would sound neutral or happy when speaking about a divorce? With someone you still cared deeply about, no less. But you’re slightly surprised when you see Jin’s face harden at the reminder.
“Is that what you care about?” he blinks.
You give him a weird look before sighing, turning your back to him as you find yourself a glass to pour some water.
“Jin, it’s due time,” you sigh, “I don’t want to make this harder for your family—”
“For them,” he laughs humourlessly, “You’re thinking about how the divorce is going to be hard for them.”
You blink at his sharp tone.
“… yes?” you say slowly, “We grew up together, Jin. Obviously the divorce would crush them.”
“You”—he blinks—“you’re thinking about them but you didn’t for one second to wonder how I felt?”
You freeze.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” he exhales with a tight chuckle, “You really decided that it was over by yourself, didn’t you?”
You don’t appreciate his tone, nor do you appreciate the accusation. Not when you’ve spent literal months and sleepless nights agonising over your decision while you mulled every possible solution, crying over the demise and when you finally decided to take that step forward. You don’t appreciate it—especially when you did your best.
“You didn’t say anything!” you seethe. “You never say anything! You took the damn papers and flipped through to them like it was one of your business contracts.” “How did you expect me to react?” he exclaims, throwing his hands into the air as his voice raises. “I was caught off-guard!"
You scoff, “Really? That’s your excuse?” You narrow your eyes at him as you jab a finger into his chest. “Don’t give me shit for not considering how you felt when you’ve given me no indication that you gave a shit about this marriage at all.”
“Of course I give a shit about this marriage!” He says in disbelief.
“Do you, Seokjin?” you say bitterly, and the name returns along with the drop in his expression. “You don’t. I don’t know what you feel about anything anymore. It’s stopped being a marriage a long time ago. The divorce would’ve come either way.” You finish in a whisper.
“And you decided that for us?” ye snaps.
“Yes, Seokjin, I did,” you sneer, “I decided for us because we don’t even talk anymore. Every time I try to reach out to you—I took ten steps backwards from where I started and I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue feeling like a placeholder in this marriage instead of your wife.”
“You’re not—” his eyes soften as he reaches out to you while you flinch, eyes darting to the ground.
“Don’t,” you whisper harshly, “Don’t you dare comfort me now, Kim Seokjin. Not when it took the actual divorce for you to be apologetic.”
The kitchen is silent, and it’s deafening, especially when the outside chatter filters in through the slips of the divider. You know they can’t see you through the tinted windows, but it’s a stark contrast with how people are outside laughing while your marriage falls apart under the same roof.
“So that’s it?” he says softly, “Ten years of dating and four years of marriage?”
“Don’t you dare,” you repeat again, weaker, “I wanted this to work out more than anyone else.”
“Then why aren’t you fighting,” he hisses, stepping closer as he attempts to get you to look at him.
You can’t.
“I’ve been fighting,” you return vehemently, though your resolve is weak at best. “I’ve been fighting on my own for the past four months to save this marriage and you—you just …” your eyes flutter shut as you feel the first tear fall. You don’t want to look at him. “You didn’t fight, Seokjin. You were the one that did this to us.”
“____,” he calls your name.
You step away, furiously swiping under your eyes as you attempt to keep the last few bits of your tears back.
“No more burdens, Seokjin,” you smile sadly, “Stop making this harder than it has to be and sign the papers.”
“I—”
“You should go look for Chahee,” you say softly, and you know your words are purposeful with its double-meaning.
You’re already excusing yourself to your room, the godforsaken room you were forced to share with Jin before you catch the way his face drops completely.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
It’s been radio silent between you and Jin ever since your conversation from yesterday, and you’re both thankful and frustrated. It’s proven difficult to maintain an amicable distance from him when you were meant to be in love and married, along with your son who’s none the wiser.
Seokjung’s nervously pacing back and forth in the living room, but it’s not because of how large his family is—or that he has an audience to please with his grand show. It’s the prospect of proposing to Ah-reum, even if he was madly in love with her.
Right now, he’s not listening to anyone, even his own mother, the same person that would play the level-headed role in situations like these. It’s almost concerning when he mutters incoherencies under his breath, a slip-of the tongue that revealed his fear and desire to leave.
Your eyes widen as you walk towards the anxious man, leaving Jiho with your father-in-law who only smiles at you gratefully.
“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to clasp his shoulder as he nearly stumbles from being startled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” he exhales, rubbing a hand across his face before his eyes are nervously darting towards the door where Ah-reum could enter at any moment, according to his cousin, “God—I’m going to puke."
“You’re okay,” you reassure him gently, eyes searching for his as he nearly doubles over in anxiety, “You’re good.”
“Am I?” he chokes, “God, I haven’t felt this nervous ever since I had to submit my Master’s thesis.”
You snort, even if you pat his back affectionately.
“It’s normal to feel nervous,” you promise.
“Is it?” he says softly, “I love her—I do. But … but why does this feel so scary?”
You give him a small smile while he peers up at you with panicked eyes. Despite him being relatively older than you were, he looked very much like his younger self right now. Nerves and wide-eyes as he contemplates a decision that would very much change the course of his life.
“It’s because you love her you’re scared,” you explain, “Change will always feel scary, and proposing to Ah-reum is a huge change in your life. Nothing will make this easier, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. Once you overcome that initial barrier, you’re going to thank yourself for taking that leap of faith.”
He groans, cradling his face into his hands as your eyes widen alarm, afraid if you said the wrong thing.
“You know,” he says suddenly, eyes darting up, “It’s a little reassuring to know that Jin went through this before I did.”
At the mention of his brother, your hand tenses on his shoulder—but you don’t think he notices. Or at least you hope he doesn’t.
“Way to throw your brother under the bus,” you chuckle.
“No, really,” he snorts, shaking his head fondly as if he was recalling those days. “You know, at first I thought it was too early for him to be proposing.”
Your eyes widen at the new set of information.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he says breathlessly, “Don’t tell him I told you that, though. He’d kill me,” he says in a low whisper as you laugh, a little sadly purely because he didn’t have to worry about that. You weren’t even talking to Jin. “I knew the two of you were endgame—but getting married? That’s next-level commitment.”
“I mean,” you say bashfully, eyes darting to the ground.
“But now, looking back …” he trails off wistfully, “It made sense.”
He’s the second person who’s told you that within the span of the past week and you’re left more conflicted than ever. His words came during a time where you were contemplating on splitting up with Jin, so you have no idea what to feel, especially when you’ve convinced yourself that the divorce was the decision that made sense.
“Everyone keeps saying that,” you mumble.
Seokjung snorts, “Because it’s true. You ground each other, you know?” He murmurs with a smile, “I mean more so you to him,” he finishes as you giggle at his hushed whisper.
“I’m clearly the more level-headed one,” you say jokingly with a small smile.
“Yeah,” he agrees easily as the two of you share a laugh. “Early or late, the two of you are meant for each other.”
You ignore the way your heart pangs, the reminder that you once thought that was the case too until reality hit you hard.
“Maybe we did get married too early,” you mention quietly.
Seokjung raises a brow at your statement, and you realise the little slip-up too late as you purse your lips in a moment of panic.
“Are the two of you okay?” he asks with a concerned gaze, taking your hand into his.
You let out a shaky breath before smiling at him, the gesture not quite reaching your eyes.
“Don’t worry about us,” you tell him, “It’s your day.”
He frowns.
“Yeah, but you’re my sister and he’s my—”
“I’m fine,” you say curtly, realising your tone as his face drops before you sigh. “I—I am, really. Please don’t worry about us, okay? You’ve got a girlfriend to propose to.”
You nudge him on the shoulder to cock your head towards the door where you see his aunt frantically waving her arms, indicating that Ah-reum was near, and all retort that was about to leave his lips dies on his tongue as his eyes widen while he vigorously pats down his pants to search for the ring.
“God—fuck, shit godamnit,” he curses, fumbling ever so slightly as you giggle, squeezing his shoulder one last time before you’re shooting him a thumbs up along with a cheeky grin.
Good luck, you mouth—but he doesn’t see it.
The door opens and Ah-reum enters; Seokjung cries before he can get the words out but she knows. She knows because they’re in love.
You suppose love makes you know things. You look away because you’re starting to cry too, and when you do—you search for Jin on instinct, but he’s already looking at you.
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“Did daddy cry when proposing to mama?” Jiho asks Jin innocently when you’re close enough to catch it.
“No,” Jin says honestly, brushing a stray hair away from his face as Jiho snuggles into his chest. His sigh is clear as day. “Was too happy to cry."
────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────
“Hey,” you whisper, nudging Jin with your knuckles as he stirs in his sleep, groggily fluttering his eyes open as you shoot him an apologetic smile.
“____?”
“Your back,” you say quietly, “Sleep on the bed.”
“But—”
“I’m not sleeping yet,” you say before your eyes are darting to anywhere but the face you yearn to hold. “Just … please. It’d make me feel a lot better if you were sleeping on your own bed than on this couch.”
He doesn’t argue with you, likely too exhausted from the events of the day to find it in him to challenge you like usual. You’re thankful for the sense of normalcy, even if you’re still tiptoeing around him. Even if the remnants of your conversation is the reason why you’ve encountered yet another sleepless night.
You don’t tell him this because it’s been months since you’ve confided him. Telling him what was bothering you didn’t fit in the context of your situation right now, and besides—he was too tired. He needed to drive.
Jin stumbles off the couch and you’re grateful that the room you were sharing had a couch inside, to begin with. You had no idea how to explain the fact that you and your husband weren’t sharing a bed to your in-laws, and you didn’t want to. It saved the hassle.
(Even if he’d take a part of you to sleep every night when he rests his head against the throw pillow than on the bed.)
He shuffles into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him to not wake anyone else up. The kids' room was a good distance away, but some of them had really acute hearing and he likely didn’t want to risk that. You didn’t need to spend another half an hour trying to get Jiho to sleep.
You sigh deeply, brushing a hand through your hair as your feet takes you towards the second-floor kitchen (and yes, Jin’s family was that wealthy to have a kitchen attached to each floor) as you prepare yourself a cup of hot milk. It’s a drink you’ve made over and over throughout the years, the same brand of carton milk always remains in the fridge—and you knew it was about the Kim’s had relatively picky eating habits.
It’s different this time because you’re making one instead of two, a lone cup that’s usually accompanied by another makes you sadder. It makes your heart hurt all over again and you’re exhausted. You’re drained but you can’t sleep because your body remains active due to the way that your mind runs miles.
You focus on the milk because maybe it’ll hurt less when you don’t think. But it doesn’t—because the stupid fucking milk only reminds you of him. The man in his room, snoozing away while you lose sleep all over again.
You’re momentarily absorbed in the way that the residue from the milk swirls in the cup to notice or hear the shuffling of feet beside you, but it’s too late because when you turn you nearly scream.
“Sorry.”
You’re surprised to see Jin’s mother standing there as you place a hand to your chest to ease your racing heart.
“I nearly screamed,” you confess, shaking your head as she smiles apologetically at you.
“I tend to do that,” she says, “My husband’s always telling me I move like I’m avoiding a footprint.”
You laugh at that, not disagreeing as you mindlessly stir your drink.
“It’s late, eomeonim,” you say with a concerned look, “Is everything okay?”
She gives you a kind smile before she looks over her shoulder.
“Heard something in the kitchen and woke up,” she tells you as your face grimaces in embarrassment, “Shall we head to the office to talk?”
You nod your head mutely, unsure on why she’s decided to stay away even if it nearly approaches two am, but you don’t argue with her. Instead, she guides you towards the study, a comfortable room where you can speak freely without worrying too much about waking others. Your thoughts run a lot more liberally in here, despite the ache in your chest.
You take a seat on the couch, noting that it’s changed. You haven’t been here in a while, yet it remained homey with a much-needed replacement.
“Are you okay?” you ask softly, “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
She waves you off.
“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” she says.
Your eyebrows furrow in concern. “Is there something wrong?”
She sighs, staring wistfully to the side as you see her throat move as she swallows. The longer the silence ensues, the antsier you grew. Was she okay? Did something happen to her? Is she—?
“You and Jin are getting a divorce.”
You nearly drop your glass as you spill some of the contents on your t-shirt, hissing at the stain. But you can’t even be bothered to reach for a tissue to clean at it when you’re looking up with a horrified expression to meet your mother-in-law's face.
“I—eomeonim—how?” you splutter, cheeks flushed in mortification.
“I overheard the two of you,” she says simply, “And Jin left his laptop open and I saw an email from Jimin regarding the papers.”
You don’t know what to say because you’re absolutely mortified. More importantly, you feel ashamed. Ashamed because she found out due to you and Jin’s shouting in the kitchen and his carelessness. Not from you yourself.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, emotions slowly overwhelming you as she looks at you with an unreadable expression.
“Why are you apologising, my sweet girl?” she says softly, immediately reaching out to you to wrap her arms around you as a mother would. And right now, she wasn’t your mother-in-law—but a woman who’s seen you grow alongside her own two children. You weren’t disappointing your mother-in-law but your second mother.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” you choke, tears immediately falling the tighter she holds you, “I-I’m s-so sorry. I-I tried—I didn’t—want to but—I-I’m sorry.”
Your words are slurred the harder you cry, pathetically shoving your face into her shoulder as she holds you. The dam breaks, unleashing the emotions you’ve held in for so long in the arms of a mother. She doesn’t say anything but brushes your hair, holding you a little tighter when your tears stain her nightgown.
You don’t know why you’re crying so hard. Maybe it’s because it seems all too real now, with Jin’s mother knowing. Her words only solidify the fact that your marriage was nearly over and you couldn’t do anything. The ghost of Jin’s words from a day earlier still remain clear to you, and maybe—it was really your fault.
You decided it was over.
“____,” she calls you softly as you continue to sniffle in her arms, frustrated at the fact that your tears weren’t stopping. “Look at me, dear.”
You force yourself to obey even if you can’t bear to, the humiliation of her finding out this way still tormenting you.
“I’m sorry, eom—”
“Please don’t say sorry,” she holds your face in her hands, forcing your puffy eyes to look at her.
“But it’s,” you choke, unable to look at her without wanting to cry. “It’s—my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” she replies vehemently, swiping at your tears for you, “It’s not your fault.” She repeats in a softer tune.
“I wanted the divorce, eomeonim,” your lips wobble when you speak, words shakily escaping past your lips, “It’s all my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” she says instead as you nearly knock your forehead with hers at how fast you try to pull away, appalled that she was the one apologising.
“Why are you—?” your brows furrow in confusion when she holds onto you a little tighter.
“I’m not just Jin’s mother or your mother-in-law,” she says softly, “I’m a person and I see that you’re hurting. I’m apologising because you don’t deserve this.”
You swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes look up to the ceiling to stop your tears.
“I know mothers-in-law will side with their son,” she says, “But I won’t. Because Jin made a mistake and now you’re suffering because of him.”
“It’s not his fault,” you reply quietly.
You know that you blamed him earlier, but deep down—you could never blame Jin. You were the one that brought forward the divorce, and if you decided to keep fighting then maybe … maybe it wouldn’t hurt this much.
“I don’t know,” she sighs, “I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, that’s the last thing I want to do but …” she trails off as you stare at her expectantly, “I don’t know who he is without you, ____.”
You bite your lips to prevent yourself from crying again.
“Please don’t think of this as me trying to convince you to stay with him,” she begs, “If you’re unhappy, I rather you leave him than punish yourself.” You nod your head, eyes darting to your lap as she continues. “But I spoke to Jin.”
Your eyes immediately dart up in surprise as your eyes widen.
“You—?”
“Right after,” she continues softly, “I caught him before he went to bed and …” her eyes begin to water and you think you’re about to break again. “I haven’t seen him cry since your wedding day.”
Her confession knocks the wind out of you as you find yourself gasping, tears immediately leaving your eyes. The realisation that Jin cried, to his mother makes your heart clench. You knew that Jin wasn’t much of a crier himself—he didn’t even cry when Jiho was born. Nor was he the type to cry in front of his mother. He held his ego at a high level even if that irked you at times, so the news only makes you more devastated.
“I don’t know what he said to you per se,” she whispers, “But he loves you. He loves you so much—and that goddamn idiot doesn’t know how to do anything but work and I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t be apologising on my son’s behalf but I want to. I want to because I love you as my daughter and I want to see you happy.”
“Eomeonim …” you croak, reaching your hand up to cover hers that lay on your face.
“Please, if you call me that I think I’m going to bawl,” she laughs quietly as you find yourself giggling along, despite the way it gets stuck in your throat. “My son is stupid. So stupid. Please—please talk to him. If it …” she swallows, “If it doesn’t work out—I’ll support you, either way. Just please, don’t leave whatever questions you have unanswered.”
You nod your head, chest feeling slightly lighter but burdened nevertheless.
“I will,” you say softly, “I promise.”
You walk her back to her room after, hugging her tightly at her door as she pushes past it, sniffling ever so slightly before retreating into the dark room.
You make your way quietly back to your room, mind weighed with different thoughts plaguing every crevice of your brain. You didn’t know what to make of her confession or statement. You wanted to believe her that Jin still loved you—but you didn’t know. You couldn’t know because you don’t remember the last time he held you, or maybe you did and it was months ago.
Your feet stop right in front of the door as you hesitate to reach for the knob. He was asleep, anyway. You decide to push, slowly turning as you slip into the dark room.
It wasn’t dark.
And Jin was awake.
He’s awake and sat in his bed, something resting on his lap as he uses the nightlight beside him to flip through it. He hears the intrusion as you stand, frozen, and his eyes lift to meet yours.
You think this is the first time in a while that you’ve seen him like this, in bed and comfortable with a slight puffiness to his eyes while his shirt remains wrinkled—the proof of his comfort. Your heart clenches because you missed this—missed returning to him in bed, soft and warm as you press against him.
And the dam breaks for the second time that night.
You don’t know what compels you to run to him, or allow him to hold you while you sob into his arms—but you do. You practically leap onto him, body curling pathetically into his side as he holds you like he’s afraid you’d slip away. He lets you cry your eyes out, he lets you cry until snot is unattractively running down your nose and staining his t-shirt. He lets you, because he hasn’t let you feel him for a long time.
You instantly melt into his hold, missing his warmth. And when your eyes briefly fall into his lap to get a glimpse of what he was staring at, you cry even harder.
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It was a banner you made for his twenty-ninth birthday, right after the two of you got married. Your then favourite pictures of Jin stained every surface of the banner, some edges wearing off due to age—and you remember each moment so vividly.
From taking a picture of him when he was taking a picture of you, to when he was making you breakfast in the morning, to his birthday as you smashed cake into his face, the flowers he got you when he broke your favourite cup, your fishing trip—everything. You remember it.
You sob harder, clutching onto his t-shirt as he tucks your face into the crook of his neck, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. You were so tired of crying but it was all you could do.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers after your sobs turn into tireless chokes, “I’m so sorry.”
“I hate you,” you cry, hitting his chest while he lets you, “Why are you so stupid.”
“I know,” he sighs, “I’m stupid. Hate me. Do anything you want to me.”
“I-I”—you croak, still slamming your fists into his chest weakly as you helplessly flutter your eyes shut—“I don’t hate you.” You finish quietly, your truth surfacing as you note that his eyes soften at your defeated tone.
Your emotions are everywhere and frankly, you can’t really think with how you’re pressed against his body like you never wanted him to let go. Right now, you didn’t. You wanted to be held, vulnerable and teary while he soothes you with his gentle touches.
You can’t stop the tears, way too overwhelmed to even process the fact that Jin doesn’t shift away one bit, hand clutching the back of your head as he rubs circles against your scalp. Who were you to pull away?
You sniffle pathetically before you pull away ever so slightly, flushed and embarrassed at the sudden loss of control over your emotions.
“Are you done?” he asks softly, referring to your tears as you pull away to swipe under your eyes.
“I don’t know,” you whisper, “I still feel like crying.”
“Then cry,” he replies gently, “I’ll be here to hold you.”
You want to hit him because his words only spur the tears on.
“I just wanted you,” you whisper, “I only wanted you …” your lips wobble when you look up at him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, “I know sorry won’t erase the pain I’ve caused you but that’s all I can offer for now.”
“Why did you—why did you just”—you sniff pathetically—“why didn’t you fight me. Why didn’t you stop me.”
“I thought it would make you happy,” he pulls away, and you both know how absurd his excuse sounds but you’re too tired to fight. “I only wanted you to be happy.”
“You idiot,” you hiss through a clogged nose, “You would’ve made me happy.” You say softly. “I wanted to be happy with you.”
“You make me happy too,” he says softly into your hair.
You’re still angry, and you’re tired. But even if there were things you were unsure about, you missed being close to Jin more than anything.
“Your mom said you were stupid,” you murmur.
He laughs quietly, pulling you closer to his chest.
“I am,” he agrees.
The silence returns but it’s no longer as suffocating as the past few days have been. It’s more reflective than not and you’re thankful, even if your eyes are uncomfortably swollen—you allow yourself to be held. The weaker part of you is unable to say no to him.
“Why …” you begin softly, eyes looking up to already see him staring at you. “Why didn’t you sign the papers?”
He blinks at you for a while before he sighs, resting his chin atop your head.
“I didn’t want it to be real,” he says so softly you almost missed it. “I thought—I thought if I dragged it out then …”
“… it wouldn’t have happened?” You finish quietly.
He groans, frustrated as your eyebrows furrow at his sudden change in demeanour.
“I know it sounds pathetic,” he admits, “I was a coward, ____. I was stressed and overwhelmed and—suddenly … you wanted a divorce, I just”—he takes a deep breath to collect himself and you’re mildly alarmed to spot his glassy eyes—“I didn’t know what to do …”
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” you ask timidly, fingers gripping his shirt tightly. There was really no need for you to cling onto him, but you couldn’t do anything else right now. Especially when he returns the gesture.
“Would you believe me if I said it’s because I didn’t want to burden you?” he brushes your hair out of your face as his hand cradles your cheek, “I wanted to be the one you could rely on and … I didn’t know what to do.”
Your face crumbles when you note the sincerity behind his voice. Rationally, you knew that a relationship required communication but you knew Jin, and you knew that he always tried to plaster this mask to the world that depicted him as a reliable and unshakable fortress. All this time … he was struggling and so were you.
The realisation only makes you sadder, and you feel all the more horrible when you remember that you brought up the divorce in the midst of all of this.
“I’m sorry!” you wail, face burying into his chest as his eyes widen.
“_____—” he murmurs.
“No—I just,” you say frantically, rushing to get your words out, afraid if you’d forget as if he’d disappear. “I didn’t know—and I thought—I thought you didn’t … I thought we were—fuck. I’m so sorry, I just wanted you—I—”
You have no idea what you’re saying but Jin doesn’t look confused. He understands, and you know that because he shoots you a gentle smile before rubbing his thumb across your cheek.
“Please don’t apologise,” he whispers, forehead resting against yours as you blink away your tears. “I don’t blame you. I could never blame you.”
“But I …” you protest.
He shushes you with a kiss to your forehead and you instantly melt into his hold.
“You did what you thought would make you happy,” he tells you honestly, “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I asked for a divorce, Jin,” you exasperate.
“Are we?”
You blink, startled as you pull away, heart nearly shattering until he grabs you by the wrist.
“Hey, no,” he whispers, “That’s not what I meant,” he cups your face in his hands as your lips wobble all over again. God—you fucking despised being a crybaby. “Look at me.”
You do, and you see how tired he looks. How have you not noticed before? His cheeks look duller, and his dark circles are more apparent than ever. You just want to reach out to touch him.
And you do. Your hand shakily reaches out to caress his face in a way that you weren’t able to for the past few months. It’s almost like a new feeling, but your fingers find their way home relatively easy, tracing each pore and wrinkle, memorising his face to memory all over again.
“Are we getting a divorce, ____?” he repeats firmly, never breaking eye contact with you.
Your lip tremble.
“I don’t—” you warble, as he leans his forehead against yours again.
“Because I don’t want a divorce,” he says, and it’s the first time he’s explicitly admitted it.
“I don’t either,” you say weakly.
“I meant it when I said I want to be with you in sickness and in health,” he whispers earnestly, breath tickling your cheek, “And till death do us apart.”
“I’m sorry, Jin,” you say timidly, eyes darting to your lap.
“Don’t apologise to me,” he says sternly, not unkindly as your eyes flutter up. “Not when I’m the one that has an entire lifetime worth of apologies to give you.”
“I just …” you trail off softly, “I just want us to be okay.”
He’s still staring at you, and there’s a pained expression behind his eyes.
“Can I kiss you?”
His question stuns you, purely because you weren’t expecting it and because you’ve nearly forgotten what it felt like to have his lips pressed against yours, or even the nervous waver of his voice when he looks at you so earnestly that you can’t find the words to respond with. So, you settle for actions instead.
You nod your head mutely, heart ramming against your chest when he begins to lean in.
You don’t remember the last time he’s kissed you, or held you, or looked at you like this. There’s a dull ache in your chest when you recall the nights you’ve spent agonising over the downfall of your marriage, but Jin distracts you from your thoughts when his lips tickle over yours.
There’s no rush this time, even as your eyes are swollen while you flutter them shut. There’s no desperation to kiss you, and you aren’t desperate to be kissed either. It’s as if the both of you wanted to savour this moment—to remember what it feels like to have almost lost. It hurt—but it was necessary. A necessary reminder to you and to Jin that fighting was tiring but it was worth it.
When he finally presses his lips to yours, you nearly cry. You immediately melt into his hold, especially when he cradles your cheek with his palm and pulls you closer to his chest.
You kiss him with a mission to tell him how much you’ve yearned for this—for him. But you’re distracted when you feel something hot against your cheek.
It’s not your tears—it’s his.
You pull away, alarmed when you realise that Jin’s body is shaking.
“Jin?” zYou clutch his shoulders, eyes searching for his as he covers his face with his shoulder, effectively shielding his tears away from you.
“I-I’m sorry,” he chokes, furiously wiping his eyes with his shirt as your face falls.
“J-Jin, please don’t—” you say shakily, going to embrace him, but to your displeasure, he refuses, breathing deeply to collect himself.
You don’t think you’ve seen Jin this uncollected ever. Not even when he was crying during your wedding. His body shakes with the ferocity of his tears, the intensity of his breaths only causes his shoulders to heave up and down and all you can do is stare at him with sad eyes.
“I know an apology won’t fix anything,” he says vehemently, managing to get some of his words out as he peers up at you with red-rimmed eyes, “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you question this marriage—for—for not loving you the way you deserve.”
“Jin …” you say softly, reaching out to hold his hand as his own tears continue to fall from his eyes.
This time, it’s you who allows him to nuzzle his head into the crook of your shoulder as he sobs. It’s quieter than you, but no less painful.
“I was so scared,” he confesses, “I was terrified when you showed me the papers. I really thought—this is it. It’s over.”
You stay silent, biting your lip to stop your own tears from escaping when you recall the memory.
“I was so scared what would happen,” he croaks, “I thought I was going to lose you, forever. I thought—I thought I was going to lose Jiho.”
“I’d never do that to you,” you say shakily.
“I know,” he returns, “But I was the most afraid of who I was going to be without you.”
You look down at him when his eyes dart up, pained and sunken when he clutches your hands in his larger ones, squeezing your fingers in a way that you assume he hopes to translate his desperation. You feel it, and you squeeze back.
“You’re Kim Seokjin,” you murmur, rubbing your thumb across his chin.
“That’s just my name,” he scoffs, shaking his head, “I’m nothing without you.”
“That’s not—”
“You and Jiho were the only one’s that got me through each day, you know?” He murmurs as your heart clenches. “Every day, when another deal failed to follow through and ended up bringing losses—or when the stockholders went against me—I could only think of you and Jiho.”
You couldn’t stop the tears that return this time around, choking on your own sobs.
“I wanted so much to give you both the world that I,” he swallows, “That I got greedy—and I ended up … I ended up losing the both of you instead.”
“I’m here, Jin,” you say softly.
“I know I don’t deserve it yet,” he says quietly, “But please don’t leave me.”
You realise belatedly that even with the divorce, you could never have left him the way you thought you could.
You don’t answer him, instead—you provide your answer through your actions by kissing him. Harder than before but just as earnest. Both of your tears clash against your skins, but you can’t be bothered to care when he returns your kiss with an equal amount of desperation and affection.
“I love you,” he breathes into your mouth as you gasp. “I love you more than love itself.”
You want to hit him in the way he’s making you cry harder.
“I love”—you choke on your words when he presses a kiss to your jaw, his confession raw and honest—“God, I love you.”
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you,” he says vehemently, kissing every inch of your face, your jaw and your neck as you cling onto his shirt desperately right before his dark eyes look up to catch your flushed expression. “Will you let me?”
“Yes—God—please,” you beg, pulling him closer to your body as he peppers open-mouth kisses down your sternum and across your chest.
“Can I love you tonight, ____?”
You nod your head desperately, heart fuller than it’s been in a long time. You know the consequences, and you couldn’t give a damn right now. You still needed to heal, and so did he—but when he holds you a little tighter, you know that neither of you was going anywhere.
“Love me,” you gasp, “Please, Jin.”
“I’ll love you,” he hisses, trailing down your neck, his words juxtaposing with the tenderness of his touch as his hands slip under your shirt. His touch is molten, especially when you’ve missed the feeling of having him like this—close, desperate and yours for the moment.
“I miss you,” you confess while he drags his fingers across your abdomen and rests right under your breasts. He looks up at you with soft eyes as you return them, eyes swollen. “I really miss you, Jin.”
He leans up to kiss you, hands multitasking as they cup your tits while you gasp into his mouth.
“I miss you,” he returns with a heartfelt tone, “I’ll never let this happen. Ever again.”
Now, all you can do is trust him, trust him and his words and that he’d take care of you. His hands tickle under your shirt but you can’t be bothered when he finally cups your breast with his large hands, gentle yet steadfast when he tweaks your peaked buds.
“O-Oh,” you gasp, head lulling back when his lips trail down to your neck, hands already helping you out of your shirt.
“Will you let me see you, beautiful?” he murmurs.
“Please,” you say breathlessly, lifting your arms up to ease the process.
You should’ve felt vulnerable, being more than just physically naked in front of him. But throughout the hurt and the pain, he’s never made you doubt yourself for once. It was as if you were held captive by him, even when your heart was slowly shattering. It’s also why when he gives you a once over with hunger behind his eyes, you don’t shy away. Instead, your back arches, giving him more than enough to see—to feel.
“I missed you,” he repeats, pressing a kiss to your nipple as you whimper, hands curling around his hair as his head dips lower, “Missed you—missed how gorgeous you looked like this.”
He tells you more by painting the truth on your breast, lavishing each bud with pert attention as you find yourself growing wetter in arousal. His tongue is hot against the cool air of the room, the juxtaposition of the temperatures only sending your head into short-circuiting.
“J-Jin please,” you breathe, staring down at him when his dark eyes lift up to meet yours. His stare is enough to have your thighs clenching together. “M-More.”
“Of course,” he croons, “I’ll give you everything you want.”
You mewl as his hands trace fluttering touches against your stomach before they’re reaching your mound. He doesn’t drag this out as he’d normally, the distant memories of your nights spent tangled together as he edged you till you were crying. No, this time—he’s gentle, he’s soft and careful with the way he handles you, spreading your legs as you pliantly obey, eyes fluttering with every move that he makes.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound as you whimper at the contact, needy in want. “I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy, hm?”
You nod your head in desperation, lifting your hips to aid him in the process of slipping off your pants along with your panties, baring your slicked pussy to his face. You catch a brief glimpse of his expression, especially when he unabashedly ogles your wetness with desire behind his eyes. You’re a little flustered since it’s been a while, so your legs naturally threaten to snap shut but Jin doesn’t let you get too far.
“Don’t hide from me,” he says quietly, eyes peering up at you as you can’t find it in you to respond with how your throat clamps shut. “Want to see you. Always do.”
Your heart tugs in your chest, but you aren’t able to dwell on the feeling for too long when Jin dives into your heat, tongue immediately flattening against your pussy as he tracks your wetness up your slit to where your engorged bud lies. Your back immediately arches while your hand finds purchase in his hair, grounding yourself at the way your stomach immediately heaves inwards at his ministrations.
Jin doesn’t relent, nor does he tease. He’s quick and precise with every flick of his appendage over your clit, rapidly swirling the bud in the way you like as he alternates between harsh sucks and tugging at the pearl, causing sobs of pleasure to leave your lips. It’s a product of how long you’ve been together and how he’s learned every pulse and shiver as a sign of your pleasure.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you mewl, “D-Don’t stop.”
“You taste so good, love,” he moans into your pussy, the vibrations immediately causing your toes to curl as your head tilts backwards. “A pussy like yours should be eaten every day, yeah? As your husband—I should do that.”
When he calls himself your husband, you feel yourself whine in pleasure, the term causing fondness to bloom in your chest. You don’t know if he’s said it on purpose, but he doesn’t stop with his actions, instead, one of the hands that presses your stomach down to keep you in place reaches up to where your hand clutches his hair and brings it away.
“J-Jin,” you whine, hips bucking when he swirls his tongue over your clit, slowly while his eyes peer up to lock with yours.
The act is all too intimate, and your poor heart can barely take it with how sensitive you are all over, emotionally and physically. But Jin takes your flushed face as a good sign, and he ruins you all over when he intertwines your fingers together.
“Can feel you clenching,” he hums teasingly, “you going to come for me?”
You nod your head vigorously, fingers pressing tightly against his larger palm as he laughs into your pussy at your eagerness. Once he gets the confirmation for you, it’s like he was holding out the entire time despite him causing your legs to shiver by the side of his face.
This time, Jin presses his face tightly against your pussy as you squeal, louder than you expected as he flicks his tongue over your bud so rapidly that your mind is blank in pleasure, legs shaking uncontrollably as your body quivers in pleasure.
“Oh oh oh! J-Jin—fuck, I-I’m gonna—please let me cum, please please please,” you cry desperately, hips grinding against his face as he slurps your clit like he was parched.
“Come for me, beautiful. Wanna feel you drench my tongue,” he encourages you softly, yet his words send a wave of pleasure all across your body as you finally feel the last bit of your coil snap.
“J-Jin!” you sob, back arching as his large palm splays over your stomach to keep you rooted in position, forcing you to take all the pleasure he was giving you. Your legs shake by his face as he keeps his mouth open with his tongue out as you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm away.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away with a parting kiss to your clit that as you jumping. “I missed this. Missed your pussy.”
“Miss you,” you mumble dazedly, your fingers carding through his hair as he peers up at you.
“Come here,” he whispers, inching up as he gently holds your cheek in his palm while you immediately lean into his touch.
While you lay on his bed, relatively boneless, Jin stares at you with devout affection, his eyes softening when he holds your gaze. His lips glisten with your wetness, mouth slightly parting while he rubs a thumb against your cheek.
“I love you,” he says quietly, “I really—I’m so in love with you.”
“Jin,” you say shyly, eyes darting away when he doesn’t look away.
“You’re the love of my life,” he divulges gently, leaning his forehead against yours as you take in every freckle that marks his skin, and the dulcet curve of his lips when he presses it against yours.
You can’t find a response that would indulge in what you truly felt, so you settle for reciprocating his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you learn all about the way he feels all over again. You miss this, and you’d admit it over and over again—until he reminds you just how much of a home his touch was.
“I want you,” you whimper, pulling away to peer up to his dark eyes.
“Gotta be quiet, okay?” he murmurs as you nod obediently. “Need me to prep you? It’s been a while.”
Ever the gentleman and the considerate person he was, although you reckoned it was the most sensible option—you missed the feeling of having him feel you whole.
“No need,” you say, “Just—fuck me, please.”
He chuckles, leaning down to press hot kisses against your jaw and the nape of your neck as he uses his palms to spread your legs, feeling the way his hardened cock presses against your thigh. You take the time to card your fingers through his hair, gently pressing against his temple, then his cheek, and finally his bottom lip while you attempt to let your actions display what you feel.
As if Jin senses this, he leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips. One that’s both desperate and longing, a greeting from the past that blooms in the present.
“Ready?” he murmurs, fist clutching his cock while it prods against your quivering hole.
He swiftly removes his shirt, chucking it aside as he presses the tip against your quivering hole. You nod eagerly, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he finally pushes through the first barrier. Your breath hitches, mostly because Jin wasn’t average-sized by any means. He grunts from above you, face contorted as he slowly inches his way in, careful to not hurt you.
Frankly, you were wet enough from your previous orgasm and how much your body craved him—but as you mentioned, he was big. But the pleasant burn of his girth stretching you out have you gasping, eyes peering up at him in desperation.
“M-More,” you whimper, hips chasing his as you encourage him to sheathe himself further into you.
“Are you sure?” he asks, lips pressed against your jaw as you nod.
“I’m good,” you assure him, pulling away just to shoot him a small smile that he returns.
Finally, he bottoms out, the last bit of his length in you as you whimper at the feeling of being so full, so whole. Jin remains still, to allow you a few seconds to adjust to having him in you. While you were desperate for more, you appreciated the gesture.
There’s something oddly intimate about having him in you but not moving at all. There’s no rush to thrust into you with hot pleasure and love, but just the comfort of having him here—with you. Your heart squeezes in fondness, mostly because you missed him. Missed having him so close to you and in your reach.
“Y-You can move,” you pant, hips already moving at their own accord as he groans from above you.
“God,” he sighs, “I missed you. Missed you so much.”
“I-I missed you too,” you say in between pants as he begins to thrust into you, pulling his cock out until the hilt before slamming back home.
It sends your body up the bed as you indulge in how good it feels. Both emotionally and physically. One of your hands clutches at his hair while he builds up his pace by occupying all the space in between your hot walls.
“Fuck,” he grunts, “You feel so—good.”
You nearly forgot how strong Jin was, and how effortlessly he was able to send white-hot pleasure coursing through your bloodstream with the way that his hips move. He’s relentless with his pounding, the squelches of your wetness echoing in the room with every single purposeful thrust, your gasps of pleasure tangled with the way the slap of his hips meet yours—it’s all too stimulating and it feels so good.
“Oh my God, J-Jin, fuck, oh,” you sob, clawing at his back when he speeds up his thrusts, the tip of his cockhead scraping against the spot within you that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You feel so full, and your pussy is attempting to accommodate his thick and long length. Your clit is throbbing in want as your hand reaches down to deliver some reprieve, but before you can do anything meaningful—Jin’s slapping your hand away to replace it with his own, and a determined expression on his face.
“Fuck, this pussy’s so wet,” he hisses, rubbing vigorous figure eights on your swollen bud as your mouth falls open into a silent moan, “Would die for this pussy. Always.”
His words send your stomach clenching, paired with the way he doesn’t falter at all with the rhythm of his brutal thrusts.
“Oh oh—ngh, p-please—don’t stop oh my God you’re so fucking—good,” you scream, right before Jin captures your mouth with his lips, swallowing your moans.
“As much as I want to hear you, we’re not home,” he reminds you softly, eyes swirling with amusement as you flush a deeper shade of red, a chortled squeal caught in your throat when he emphasises his point with a particular thrust that has your chest jostling.
Yet, it’s not his cock that has you burning.
Home.
Your home. The home that hasn’t felt much like one.
“Ohhhh,” you wail, muffled by his lips, “Don’t stop oh my god, I’m gonna fucking cum again—shit.”
“Yeah, gonna cum for me again?” he eggs you on with a grunt, leaning his chest against yours as your sticky body meets while his hips continue working its way into your pussy. “God fuck, I’m so lucky—you’re so beautiful.
“J-Jin,” you mewl, your glassy eyes peering up at him as he returns. Somehow, he knows—he knows even if all you’ve uttered was his name.
“I got you, my love,” he says so ardently that you feel a tear fall, both in pleasure and in overwhelming love. “Look at me.”
You do, and Jin decides to intertwine the free hand that isn’t abusing your poor clit into blazing pleasure with your own, squeezing your hand. It just so happens to be his left hand, and you feel the familiar squeeze of his wedding ring against your empty finger.
The realisation that he never took it off only makes you cry harder.
“J-Jin, I-I’m—” you blubber through a moan, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tenfold when he rams into you at a speed and a sense of determination you’ve never felt before. “I—oh fuck—I’m going to—!”
“I love you,” he confesses, squeezing your hand as it lays by the side of your head. The heat grows, and you feel yourself grow light-headed when Jin leans in to press a hot kiss to your lips, his own grunts caught in between your teeth.
“I love—fuck, oh,” you struggle to form coherent words, not when your pussy clenches erratically around his length, your wetness dripping down his balls while he attempts to focus on battering your g-spot with a snipers precision.
“Cum for me,” he grunts, “Cum for me and look me in the eye. Wanna see how fucking gorgeous you look for me.”
You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as more tears fall, and when you open them—you see a manic look in Jin’s gaze, paired with his own stray tear falling.
“I love you—I love you I love you I love you,” you chant frantically, cunt pulsing as your legs shake, “I-I’m cum—cumming—”
“Me too, love,” he murmurs, hips stuttering when you clench around him. “I love you so much. You’re the—best thing. I’m so fucking—lucky.”
His own words are slurred, and you feel the coil snap, your eyes trained only on his expression as you feel your orgasm overtake you with an acute force that has you nearly blanking out. You gush around his length, and that stimulates Jin’s own release, his cum painting your walls white with its heat as you shudder at the feeling of being so wholly full.
“Oh oh oh,” you mewl, clutching his hand tighter as you choke on your sobs of pleasure and tears. “Kiss me. Kiss me please.”
Your pleas are granted with a desperate kiss to your lips, your arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders while he shoves his cock further into you, plugging his cum as you whine into his open mouth. He releases loads of his cum into you that it threatens to slip past your swollen folds.
Jin kisses you, and you kiss him back. You don’t dare to let go and neither does he. The desperation between the two of you is an accumulation of nights spent apart, spent agonising the death of your relationship, the potential of a future without each other—the hypotheticals of what-ifs. You feel his ring against your jaw when he curls his hand around it to push himself deeper into your mouth.
“I love you,” he says again, and yet your heart flutters like it’s the first.
You pull away to catch your breath, forehead resting against his as you sniff the remaining of your tears away. A croaked laugh leaves your lips as Jin smiles softly at you, thumb rubbing against your cheek with immense tenderness and affection that you can’t do anything but lean into his touch.
He’s still in you, and yet—there’s no rush to move despite the cum that leaks out of your hole.
“I love you,” you echo.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you, regret staining his words as his eyes flutter shut. “I—I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness just yet—”
You stop him by pressing a kiss to his lips, soft. Pleading.
“We’ve got all the time to learn,” you say quietly, “Now, I just want you.”
He pauses for a second just to observe your face, to take in your earnest eyes as he sighs, both remorseful and thankful. Thankful that he’s met you, and thankful that you’re still here despite his shortcomings.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says with a determined gaze as you smile softly at him.
“I’ll take your word on that,” you say with a giggle.
He pulls out of you as you wince, immediately feeling his cum drip out of you. You’re about to whine a complaint, but he interrupts any ripostes from your lips with another kiss.
You’re not complaining.
“And I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you,” he says as you flush at his words. “Being next to you. Learning with you. Growing with you. I want to do it all—only with you.”
You want to slap him. You do. It’s the only thing you can think of when you feel your tears burn behind your eyelids.
“God,” you sniff as he grins at you.
“You’re such a crybaby,” he teases, leaning over your body to pick up his t-shirt before he’s wiping at your folds.
You scowl, ready to nag his ear off for using his own shirt, but before you can do any damage, he’s chucking it aside once he deems you clean enough before he’s suffocating you with a death grip around your body.
“My baby,” he murmurs into your neck as you flush.
“Jiiiiiiin,” you whine, “I need to—I need to pee.”
“Let me carry you,” he immediately says, swooping your naked body up with his arms as you yelp.
“I’m not—I can walk!” you squeak.
“Don’t think so,” he smirks as you roll your eyes at him, your eyes still puffy from your tears. “Your legs are shaking.”
And shaking, they were. You knew that you had no way of walking to the bathroom without collapsing with how good Jin had fucked you previously. But you were prideful as you stick your nose up snootily, looking away when he leans in to kiss you.
“Does the queen not want to kiss her king?” he pouts childishly as you roll her eyes.
“More like a peasant,” you mutter.
You squeal when he threatens to tickle you, blowing a raspberry into your neck while your boisterous laughter echoes against the wall.
It’s late, and people were sleeping, but the way that Jin holds you so gently as you’ve remembered—makes you forget about reality, about everything else. You can only focus on him, the way he’s making you feel and the way you see your best friend, love of your life—and your husband—return to you.
“Hey,” he murmurs once you’re done peeing and draped over one of his large t-shirts as the two of you cuddle in bed.
“Hm?”
“I love you,” he whispers, your eyes nearly drooping shut in fatigue.
“I love you too,” you say softly, snuggling into his chest as he holds you tighter.
“Once we go back …” he murmurs, “I want—I want us to go for couple therapy.”
You pause.
You look up at him, noticing his nervous expression as you smile. You wrap your fingers around him before brushing your thumb over his knuckles comfortingly.
“Okay,” you agree, “We will.”
“And … I want to take you out,” he says before clearing his throat. “On a date.”
“We’re married,” you giggle.
And it feels to good to believe it.
He rolls his eyes and you spot the slight flush on his cheeks.
“I know,” he says, “I missed going out with you.”
Your face softens before you sigh to yourself, happy.
“Me too,” you say.
“I love you,” he repeats again. You won’t ever get tired of hearing it.
You return it with a kiss, and finally, allow yourself a comfortable sleep after months.
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It’s both simultaneously all too hot and too cold when you arise from your slumber.
Your body aches in satisfaction from the events from last night, and you vividly remember the hot touches and long-awaited, teary-eyed confessions that were shared between you and your husband (and yes, your heart does bloom when you refer to Jin as his rightful position in your life rather than … that).
But the indent of where his body lays remains cool, as your body attempts to search for warmth that wasn’t the duvet absolutely suffocating you but in a touch of the love of your life. Still drowsy from sleep, you pat down on the mattress to find not what you were looking for, but a sick feeling of anxiety that stirs in your stomach.
The worst permeates your mind, and for a moment you’ve wondered if you dreamt it all—the reconciliation that promised retribution and a better future just a figment of your imagination and deepest desires. The mound between your thighs aches when you push yourself into an upright position, blinking as you attempt to search the room for his whereabouts.
Before your mind can continue to think the worst of the situation, the door creaks open—and Jin enters, face still slightly puffy from sleep but no less handsome than he’s always been. Your shoulders droop in relief, and just as you’re about to call to him—you note the third guest that joins you.
“Stole Jiho from the kids' room,” he whispers in consideration of your still snoozing son as he wraps himself around his father’s broad body.
“Thought you left,” you confess softly, making space when his knee pressed against the mattress, only for him to lay Jiho softly on the plush surface as he joins his son by his side.
“Never,” Jin says, reaching a hand to brush a stray hair away from your face before he reaches to hold your hand to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
At that moment, your son’s eyes slowly peer open, probably due to the fact that you and Jin were staring at him with full adoration. When he realises it’s just his parents, he grins, wide and with his bread cheeks before he lets out a giggle that has your heart soaring.
“Mama,” he smiles, chubby arms reaching out for a hug as you indulge in his affection. You lay back, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he snuggles into your warmth.
“Just wanted to hold the both of you,” Jin says as you rub gentle circles on Jiho’s back.
Your heart softens exponentially, free hand reaching out to Jin’s so that he’d wrap an arm around you and your son.
“Warm,” Jiho mumbles, pressed between the bodies of you and Jin’s love while the two of you stare, hopelessly and utterly in love with the person you’ve created—and each other.
“I love you, Jiho,” Jin whispers, hugging him impossibly tighter as your son smiles innocently.
“Love you!” he chirps back, eyes fluttering shut the more comfortable it gets for him.
As you run your fingers fondly through the strands of your son’s hair, Jin’s voice interrupts your love-dazed gaze with a soft confession, a record of the years you’ve known each other and the many more years you had to learn about each other.
“I love you,” he murmurs, leaning over to capture your lips in a kiss.
You smile even with the crust in your eyes, happy and content. You don’t respond because Jin’s already beginning to doze off, cheeks puffed and pressed against the pillow.
For a moment, you allow yourself to be selfish, to wallow in the love of your small family and the warmth that they gave you today, and every other day that was to come. You and Jin still had a long way to go before you could properly say things were okay, but the fact that either of you had given up, was more than enough to give you hope—to give you a vision of another thirty years, and more.
You’d do it all, with Jin.
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983 notes · View notes
theneondemonx · 2 months ago
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HOUDINI | JJK
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One Shot
▽ summary: jungkook was your first and only. When he got arrested, you felt like an idiot for always believing his every word and after a few years you decided to date again. But the word somehow got to his ears in jail and he couldn’t let you be anyone else’s but his.
▽ genre: porn with some plot, criminal au, established relationship
▽ pairings: escaped convict!jk x fem!reader
▽ words: 3464
▽ warnings: mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol abuse, mention of underage sex, criminal activities, implied murder, possessive behavior, mention of female masturbation, spanking, fingering, female ejaculation, overstimulation, oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk
( ➜ Drabble 1: first meeting ) [⏵playlist]
He hit me and it felt like a kiss He hit me and I knew he loved me If he didn't care for me I could have never made him mad But he hit me and I was glad
You were still very young when you learned that love was nothing like the cheesy romances you’d see on the big screen. Well, you didn’t actually have the money to go to the movies, but sometimes you found the way to sneak in and watch whatever was there to watch. You had a fascination for those stories, for those dancing images on the screen. They were made of pure light. Literally. While everyone was caught in the enchantment of the movie, you were the one to look behind your back and follow the light beam up until its source, looking straight at the small window from which the projector created the whole illusion of life before your eyes.
Most people want to escape from reality. They want to feel like their life has meaning, like it is just one plot twist away from being interesting. I didn’t. Maybe I should have, since mine was pretty shit. But I guess this was the whole reason why I was looking for the disenchantment. It’s like watching a magician. I’ve always been the type to be more observant, to look for the trick. Cause if there wasn’t any, then it would have meant that mine was the only pointless existence.
No one in your block had a penny to their names. Everyone dreamed of going away, of starting a new life and do something meaningful. But you knew that most of them would never make it. They were trapped.
We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.
Those weren’t your words. They were Jungkook’s. Well, not his own words, actually. He had read them somewhere. He was the type to read, although he didn’t look like it at all. And you know how people who read are: they are good with words. They can shape reality with just a flick of their tongue. And damn if he got a way with words! That’s why you fell for him.
It wasn’t just the fact that he got the looks of an angel. He also talked like one. He could talk his way in and out of everything and you were pretty sure he could lie his way into heaven if he wanted to. He was an exceptional liar, a pathological one too. But you loved him anyway.
You believed him when he told you that he was going to turn your life upside down. Why wouldn’t you? He had already done it more times than you could count. He had done it since the day you first met in that dark movie theatre. You had always believed him and everything he said. He was the only man you ever loved, the first and the last you had sex with, and eventually the one you married.
He reminded you of your father. They had the same dangerous charm. Their eyes gleamed with the same light: that of a man who was willing to con the whole world and make it his own. Your father didn’t make it, though. He became a drunk mess and ended up in prison for attempted murder.
Only a pathetic fuck goes to jail for attempted murder. Either you go down for murder, or you don’t go down at all. That’s how much of a failure he was.
But you didn’t care about him. He used to beat your mother whenever he felt like it. Jungkook, on the other hand, never did that.
So, when he told you those words – “the less you know, the better” – you didn’t question him. You just believed him. And when he came home with a bag full of money and his hands covered in blood, you still didn’t question him. You just did as he asked and bent over the kitchen table to let him fuck you senseless.
You really didn’t care about what he did. Everyone in your block was somehow entangled with criminal activities. That’s just how it is when you can’t afford an honest life. What if he robbed a bank? What if he killed someone to get that money? So what? You’d love him anyway. You’d love him no matter what.
You still loved him when you heard the sirens wailing through the block and stop outside your shared house. You didn’t care about the fact that he just ripped your marriage into pieces. You always knew he was an Icarus.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be home for dinner.” He told you with a cocky smirk, while being pushed inside the police car.
And again, you believed him.
He was the only magician who ever managed to deceive you into thinking that his was actual magic and not just a trick. But when the jury found him guilty of aggravated robbery and murder, you felt like the lights had gone off and the curtain closed on his magic show. It was over. And now you were left standing in a sad empty circus, with just the distant music of the carousel to remind you of the fact that it was all a rouse. A convincing one for sure, but still a rouse.
When you saw him being taken away from the trial, you thought about those words he told you years before.
We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.
And you smiled to yourself. Somehow, even though your whole life had just gone to pieces, you found them ironic. Who would have thought, back then, that he would end up in an actual prison? Not you for sure.
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The years had passed and although you never really moved on from Jungkook, you decided it was time for you to build a life for yourself. You were still young and pretty, so it wasn’t hard for you to fool some stupid rich boy from the city. Kim Seokjin was no Jeon Jungkook, but he had money and a steady job – one that could actually pay for rent, food and vices without raising any question from the authorities.
He didn’t know you were broke as fuck, and you did your best to hide it with the means you had and the cunning that your lowlife background had teach you. You would buy fancy dresses and hide the tag when you wore them, so that you could return them the day after. You would also tell Seokjin to come pick you up at work in Gangnam. You never worked there, of course, but he was dumb enough to believe you. It didn’t really matter: you planned on sleeping with him soon enough and let him knock you up. Men always get way too excited when you tell them that they can fuck you without putting on a condom.
What you didn’t plan, however, was to find yourself with a tattooed hand covering your mouth when one night you came back home from a date with Seokjin. At first you tried to scream and free yourself from the strong grip of the mysterious man that somehow got into your house, but you froze as soon as he spoke.
“Shh be quiet, baby. You want to be the one to rat me out?”
You’d recognize that voice among millions. It was Jungkook.
How did he get out? His sentence is not over yet. He still has to serve twenty more years.
You thought that by being quiet and staying still, he would loosen the grip on you, but he didn’t.
“Fancy dress you got here, honey.” He hissed, pressing his lips against your ear and making you shiver from his touch. His hand trailed along the side of your body, caressing the expensive fabric of the white dress.
“Was your new boyfriend, the one who bought it for you?”
Your eyes widened at that question and you again tried to free yourself without success.
“Yeah.. I know. I was surprised too when Yoongi came to visit me and told me you were seeing some fancy city boy with his head up his tuxedo-covered ass.”
You knew that no matter how soft his voice could sound, he was mad. He was always calm when he was really mad.. until he wasn’t calm anymore.
“I told him: no, Yoongi, there’s no way that’s true. My sweet Y/N would never do something like that. She is a faithful wife, not some dirty whore who’s ready to sell her cunt to the first Richie Rich who comes around.”
He chuckled darkly.
“But he brought me the photos. So I guess I was wrong.”
He abruptly turned you around, pushing your back against the wall. It was then, that you saw him. His hair got longer and he somehow got some tattoos on his right arm. His dark eyes were gleaming in the dark with a mischievous light that you had never seen on him – not when he was looking at you, at least.
His fingers tightened around your jaw, forcing you to look at him straight in the eyes.
“Did you let him touch you?”
“N-no.” You muttered, with your heartbeat racing fast and your eyes wide open like those of an innocent doe who was just caught by a cold-blooded hunter.
He pressed his body on yours, breathing heavily against your lips without breaking eye contact.
“If you are lying to me.. I’ll know, Y/N.” He hissed. And you knew that those words were a clear warning.
“I expect your cunt to be tighter than it was when I left. If it isn’t..” he chuckled, slightly tilting his head to the side and licking his lips while caressing gently your reddened cheek. “..well, I guess I’ll stretch your holes so wide that there won’t be any doubt about whose little whore you are.”
He didn’t give you any time to breathe, let alone answer. He pressed his lips on yours with such passion that he sucked the air out of your lungs. And you melted.
You still loved him, after all. You still craved for his touch, which you missed every single night that you’ve spent in your empty bed. Every time you touched yourself, you always closed your eyes and think of him: his hands, his lips, his toned body, his cock, his breath, his smell.. everything. No man could turn you on like he did.
You could tell he had changed. He got more violent, more possessive. But for some reason, that didn’t bother you. Somehow, in a fucked up way, you enjoyed it. It was like you just had the proof that he truly loved you. That you were sill his.
You run your fingers through his hair, tightening your grip while kissing him deeply. A muffled sigh escaped from your lips when his tongue entered your mouth, exploring every corner of it like that was the last kiss he was ever gonna give you.
“Touch me.” You murmured, like it was a prayer sent straight to God.
The first one that was actually answered, since Jungkook’s hands quickly slipped under your dress while you kicked off your shoes. He turned you around again, face against the wall, and removed your underwear.
You gasped at his touch on your wet entrance, arching your back so that he could see your pussy in its full glory.
“Fuck, I missed you so much.” He murmured, starting to run his palm on your pussy.
You moaned, grinding against his hand in search of his touch while he steadied your hips with the strong grip of his free hand.
“Already purring like a kitten, baby?”
Another moan escaped from your lips, this time loudly, when he inserted his middle finger in your throbbing core, feeling it clench around his touch.
“Such a good girl. You didn’t lie to me.” He commented in a hiss, inserting another finger to test your tightness and starting to pump his digits on your most sensitive spot.
“So tight. Will you be able to take my cock, baby?”
“Y-yes. Yes I will.” You answered in between your heavy breaths and moans, chasing the pleasure that his movements gave you.
You suddenly let out a sharp cry when you felt his hand slapping your ass cheek without notice. But the lingering pain had the only effect of heightening the pleasure and getting you even more wet.
Hu chuckled, spanking you one more time.
“Fuck! Jungkook!”
He had always loved it when you said his name during sex, and he still did apparently, since he started pumping his digits harder inside you. The lewd sounds of your pussy soon filled the silence of the night.
When his other hand reached your clit and started drawing quick circles around it, your legs started shivering and your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. If it wasn’t for the wall, you’d probably fall on your knees when the orgasm hit you. You moaned so loud that you almost sounded like a dying animal.
“That’s it baby. Cum for me.”
His words only made it worse and you couldn’t help but feel like a fire ball hit you right in the belly. Your walls clenched around his pumping digits and soon your climax reached an unprecedented high, making you ejaculate on his hand while waves of pleasure went through your body like an electric shock.
“Oh my God!” Was is reaction to the mess you just made.
He let out a satisfied laugh, retracting his fingers from your overstimulated core just to smear your arousal on your own lips.
“Open your mouth, baby. I want you to taste yourself – the way I make you feel.”
You obeyed, and even if you were still panting and barely able to function, you took his fingers in you mouth, rotating your tongue around them and sucking every drop of your own arousal before letting them out with a pop.
“Good girl.” He praised you softly, caressing your hair. “Now get on your knees for me.”
Again, you obeyed without hesitation while he unzipped his pants and pumped himself a few times in front of your face.
You looked up at him, licking your lips. You could still taste your slick on them, but you wanted something different. You wanted his taste. And you were so eager to get it, that you didn’t waste any time.
You soon wrapped your mouth around his hard cock, sucking it like it was your last meal. But letting you have it your way was not Jungkook’s plan. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tying them up in a ponytail that was only held by his own hand, and started thrusting inside your mouth until tears were gathering at the corner of your eyes.
A deep growl escaped from his lips at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock and your messed up make up smeared all over your face.
“My little whore. Always so good for me.” He said through his panting, face fucking you like there was no tomorrow.
And probably there wasn’t gonna be one. For all you knew, the police could come at any moment and take him back to his cell – this time, forever. But, if anything, the thrill just added something extra to the whole situation, making it even more exciting.
The rhythm of his deep thrusts against your throat soon made you gag. And that was it. That was what he wanted, what he was looking for.
“Oh shit! Fuck, I’m coming, baby.”
His cum shot straight down your throat, filling you with his warm liquid. You loved his taste. You always had since the first time he sucked his cock. You were only fifteen back then, and you had no idea how to do it. But he was older than you and he guided your every movement, teaching you what he liked and what he wanted. You thought you’d spit him out, but you always swallowed. You liked it. You liked the taste of his orgasm and you liked to know that you were the one to make him cum like that.
“Take off your dress and bra.”
Your jaw was still feeling numb and your legs weak when he ordered you to undress, but you still obeyed, in a daze.
“Now bend over the couch.”
Again, you didn’t raise any question. You just crawled towards the couch and rested your chest on the pillows, closing your eyes while you tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart beating strong, muffled by the padded fabric of the couch. The only other sound was that of his steps, getting closer and closer to you until he dropped heavily on his knees, resting his large hands on your ass cheeks and parting them.
He let out a pleased moan and you could feel his gaze devouring the most intimate part of your body. You didn’t even need to look or feel him to know that he was getting hard again. And you felt proud. You arched your back and spread your legs a big wider, offering him the whole show. You loved to know that he wanted you so bad. Just the thought of his desire aroused you more than anything else.
He chuckled, spanking you again and making you gasp at the sharp feel of his palm against your sensitive skin.
“God, you’ve always loved being a slut for me. Am I right?”
You thought the question was rhetoric, so you didn’t respond. But when he gave you another spank and bent over you, pulling your hair to get your ear closer to his lips, you knew he wanted to hear your voice.
“Answer me. Whose little slut are you?”
“Y-yours, Jungkook. I’m your little slut.”
He chuckled darkly, letting go of your hair while caressing your reddened ass cheek and pressing his lips on your ear.
“Good girl.” He praised you, slowly starting to align the tip of his cock with your wet entrance.
You whimpered at the feel, arching your back even more to look for more friction. Seeing you like that, so eager to have him inside of you, was all it took for him to sink deep inside your core, filling you with all his length and stretching your walls.
“Fuck! You got so tight, baby.”
You did. While he was away, you didn’t have sex with anybody and you only started thinking about that when you met Seokjin. Not because you really wanted to, but because you felt like it was a necessary step to get what you wanted. Sure, Jin was handsome, but he was no Jungkook. Your husband, your first love, your first everything – he was the only one who could make you wet just by staring at you. He had that power – the power to make your head spin like you had too many drinks.
Jungkook hold your hips in place and started pounding you hard, making you moan at every thrust until you were just a hot wet mess at his mercy.
“Jungkook..” That was all you could say, breathless, while feeling your walls clench around his cock like they were holding to dear life.
He went balls deep inside of you, fucking you for all the times he didn’t in the past three years. It was intoxicating, and you knew you could never get enough of that feeling – of him.
“Jungkook.. cum inside me, please.” You whimpered, pleading him with a mere whisper when you felt his thrusts getting sloppier and more imprecise. Your orgasm was close too, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t pull out. You wanted to feel every drop of him.
“Y/N.. fuck!” Was all he said while he sank deep inside your core, filling you up with his cum and pumping it in to get you closer to your climax.
You came with his name on your lips and the lewd sounds of your sex filling your ears like the sweetest music you’d ever heard. Your hands grabbed the fabric of the couch and you could feel your saliva dripping down the side of your lips, parted by the intense sensation of your orgasm.
He dropped with his chest pressing on your back. You could feel his heavy breath against your skin and his heartbeat trying to get a calmer pace while the high of the climax was slowly fading away.
“We are leaving tonight, baby.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence. “I’m not going back to jail. I’m not gonna let them tear us apart again.”
And again, even after everything that had happened, you believed him.
I guess this is my prison. You are. But I don’t want to escape.
“I love you, Jungkook.”
“I love you too, baby.”
664 notes · View notes
borathae · a month ago
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“Trying to be in a relationship when both of you are shy, oblivious idiots isn’t easy. You want to kiss Jungkook. Jungkook wants to kiss you. And yet somehow you can’t even cuddle without tensing up in nervousness. Soon all this tension is getting too much for you to take. 
Alternatively: Jungkook is the biggest oblivious idiot while you just want to kiss his stupidly handsome face.” 
Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader 
Genre: Fluff, Smut, Mutual Pining, Two Idiots in Love, New Relationship!AU
Warnings: these two are together and yet still so oblivious to the other’s feelings omfg you guys, so much shy and giggly kissing, body worshipping, clumsy mutual stripping, holy shit so many giggles :(, they are both in love and really horny, this is pretty vanilla but you know what they say about vanilla. it’s sweet af :(, oral sex in the form of 69ing, safe sex, cuddly missionary :(, the fluffiest afterglow talk
Wordcount: 10.5k
a/n: One of my favourite couple is back, you guys!! It started as a cute little idea in the back of my mind and then escalated into this fluffy tragedy of a story 🤧 I hope you guys enjoy it hehe! 💜
~ To Index ~
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Jungkook cooked for you tonight. It wasn’t great. Well no, it was great because Jungkook cooked it for you. It just wasn’t grande. Instant ramen with two eggs and some dongchimi Misses Park brought over last week. You liked it a lot, especially because that meant spending time with Jungkook and getting to talk to him and getting to look at his awesome face.
It wasn’t a date persay. Jungkook simply texted you and asked you if you wanted to come over for an impromptu late night snack. You said yes of course, taking twenty minutes to get ready and then off you went on your long journey to nextdoor. He already waited for you by the opened door in his grey sweats and pink sweatshirt. You thought that maybe he wanted to kiss you but he ended up pulling back at the last moment to pat the top of your head instead with an awkward smile on his face. 
It was a little peculiar at first to be greeted like that, but you were far too nervous to call him out on it. And also in the four months of having whatever thing you and him were having, peculiar greetings such as tonight were a regular thing. One time when he tried to hold your hand to pull you closer for a goodbye kiss you ended up high fiving him instead. Another time you reached out to touch his chest and kiss his lips but he ended up shaking your hand instead and greeting you with a nervous "good day". And another time you and him both wanted to go in for a kiss at the same time but ended up headbutting each other and almost breaking each other's noses. It was so embarrassing, but it still wasn’t quite enough for either of you to end whatever thing you and him were having. 
Tonight however, you felt a little sad when he greeted you with a pat on the head. It wasn’t just an accidental, awkward spurt of the moment misunderstanding, but a conscious decision by him. 
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You had finished dinner a few moments ago and Jungkook was busy washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen. You asked him if he needed help but he told you to relax on his couch slash bed. Jungkook didn’t own a bed, he just owned a small but comfortable couch with lots of pillows and three blankets. He could extend it for sleeping, he showed you that he can one night and no you didn’t stay over to sleep because you felt too nervous to ask if you could.
You can watch him work from where you are sitting. He is currently scrubbing the pot he used, having his back turned to you. He looks very concentrated, singing along to the music of his bluetooth speaker quietly.
You like his voice. He has a really nice voice and you like that he is starting to sing in your proximity. In the first two months of whatever thing you and him were having, he immediately stopped singing when he realised that you could hear him. You like that he doesn’t feel that nervous anymore and actually started to sing when you were in the same room as him. Now bear in mind, he would never actually sing next to you, serenade you so to speak, but at least he sings when he thinks you aren’t listening. One night you asked him if he could sing you a song and his face became as red as a tomato before he ran away with an excuse of an aching tummy, so you are happy with whatever little glimpse of his voice you get these days.
Jungkook turns around, waddling to the counter which separates his kitchen from the rest of his quaint, little apartment. Above the counter there was a row of cupboards in which he stores most of his plates, bowls and glasses (just like you do at your place). Jungkook opens it, gets on his tiptoes and begins sorting in the washed bowls. His sweatshirt slips up as he moves, exposing his lower stomach to your eyes. 
You stop playing with his Nintendo Switch, letting your gaze linger on his skin. Even in this quite stretched out position his lower stomach showed muscle. Well defined abs and two impressive v lines which disappeared into his sweats. He is so hot. Jungkook lowers himself again and starts moving back to the sink to get plates. Your eyes are away from him in an instance, cheeks feeling on fire as you stare back into the game. You feel like a complete creep for staring at him like that and thinking that he was really hot whilst doing so. It feels like you just sexually assaulted him, even though you know that technically you didn’t. 
You saw Jungkook shirtless on three occasions. One time back in the day when you didn’t have whatever thing you and him were having yet and you visited him at Taekwondo practice and he was training his abs without a shirt on. The second time was when you and him met at your university's swimming pool and he was just on his way to the locker rooms all wet and breathless from swimming for an hour. And the last time was when he hung up his laundry on his balcony and you accidentally took a look over at him while you were sweeping your own.
On all three occasions you looked away in an instance, your cheeks began to burn and you felt your heart race like crazy. Tonight however you made the conscious decision to look at his exposed stomach and now you feel awful. You wonder what he would think of you if he knew. He would probably be really uncomfortable, you know he would.
"All done", Jungkook sighs, hanging his teatowel back on its wall hook and then making his way over to you. 
You look at him, hoping that he hadn’t noticed your creepy staring. He hasn’t, judging by the content look on his face. He is bringing dessert in the form of an opened package of marshmallows. 
"Here, do you want some?" he offers, towering over you as he doesn’t quite dare to sit down. 
"Not now, uhm put them down for now", you tell him. 
"O-okay", he says and places them on his coffee table slash dining table.
He sits down next to you, hiding his folded hands between his legs and rocking back and forth nervously. 
"So uhm what did you pick?" he asks. 
"Uhm. Animal Crossing", you tell him, showing him the screen. 
He inspects it with knitted brows and his lips pouting before he nods in content. 
"Do you like my island?" he asks. 
"Yes, it's pretty. Also I picked your weeds." 
"Oh?", his brows furrow, "uhm, oh okay. Yeah that's fine", he murmurs. 
"Did I just do something I shouldn’t have done?" 
"No I, I just wanted to, to keep them", he explains, voice growing quieter and quieter the more he talks. 
"Oh I'm so sorry, I didn’t know. I thought that you wanted them gone. Can I fix this somehow?" you gasp, feeling so terrible that your stomach starts hurting.
"No, it's fine really, don’t worry about it", he assures you and locks eyes with you for only a moment, "uhm", he looks away again, "do you want to watch a movie or something?" 
"Yeah a movie sounds really fun", you say, nodding your head. Everything is better than sitting here in silence and screaming in your head because you messed up his island. A movie is the perfect distraction.
"Okay cool", he jumps up and runs to get his dvd collection, "I have many movies. Most of them are romantic comedies, but I also have a few superhero movies. You can pick, I'm happy with everything", he explains excitedly, carrying the big plastic container over to you and putting it down on the coffee table. 
He starts sorting through his collection, reading you the titles and summaries and discarding them quickly whenever he realises that maybe he wouldn’t be happy if you picked that movie. It made you smile a lot because you thought that he was really cute.
"Let’s go with Iron Man, I never watched that movie", you told him in the end. 
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You were forty minutes into the movie when you couldn’t really take the distance anymore. Jungkook kept at least an arms length of distance between you and him when he sat down again and it made you a little sad, because you really wanted to cuddle. You didn’t do lots of cuddling yet. Twice actually, you cuddled twice. One time when he came over for a movie and you shared a blanket because it was so cold in your apartment. And the second time was when he was really down because of a shitty Taekwondo practice and you hugged him on the bus for the entire drive home. They were both really amazing and epic experiences and you reached a point in whatever thing you and him were having where you wanted more of them.
You sneak a glance at him. He is currently munching on a marshmallow and giggles to himself. He really seems to enjoy the movie, unlike you who can’t stand the distance any longer. 
And so you scoot closer until you could rest your folded knees on his lap and drape your arm around his stomach. Jungkook tenses up, his giggles stop and when you take a look at his face you notice his eyes widening. He looks at you with blushing cheeks. 
"Are you cold?" he asks. 
"No." 
"I, I don’t need comfort", he says. 
"I know." 
"So...why?" 
"Because I want to cuddle with you." 
He clears his throat nervously, blinking rapidly. He shifts in your embrace, looking back at the movie with his face burning up. This makes you sad. Why isn’t he showing more enthusiasm? This is the first time you actively showed him that you wanted skinship with him. You thought that maybe he would be more excited about it.
"Do you not want to cuddle?" you ask him, already pulling away.
"Yes, no. No! I do", he stutters, "I do." 
"But?" you fear that maybe he just doesn’t want to cuddle with you. 
"Nothing", he murmurs. 
He scoots closer and drapes his arm around you. You relax back against his body, knees resting on his lap and arm placed over his stomach. For the rest of the movie you stay in this position. Jungkook doesn’t move even an inch, as if you were a cat that had fallen asleep on his body and he was trying not to wake it up. You tried caressing his tummy at one point but gave up once you noticed how much tenser he became. It didn’t just make you a little sad, it frustrated you on top of that. So when the movie was over and Jungkook asked you if you wanted to watch the second part you said that you didn’t want to and stood up to leave. 
"Did you not like the movie? We could watch something else instead. Or maybe we could play Animal Crossing together?" he hurries after you. 
"No, I'll be going home now", you dismiss him with sagging shoulders. 
"But...don't you want to stay a little longer? We're having so much fun right now", he begs and pouts.
It confuses and surprises you. He is having fun? He has been tense the entire movie, gave you no sign of actually enjoying the skinship and on top of that he patted your head as greeting. Nothing in his gestures showed you that he was having fun. But because you are a nervous idiot, who on top of that is scared of confrontation, you don’t tell him that.
"No sorry, it's already so late. I want to go to sleep already", you lie, putting on your slippers with a heavy heart.
"Ah okay, uhm yeah I get that", he stutters, scratching his neck, "should I walk you home?" 
"No, it's fine", you dismiss him and open the door, "see you next time." 
Jungkook follows you outside. 
"W-when is next time?" he asks, grasping the doorframe nervously. 
"Don't know, I’m really busy with exams right now", you lie again. 
"Oh okay...yeah okay I get that. Then, uhm call me if you have time again?"
"Yeah I'll call you." 
Jungkook reaches out, hesitates, reaches out again, hesitates again and ends up patting your head. 
"I had lots of fun tonight, uhm. Thank you", he says and smiles cutely. 
"Me too", you murmur, turning away. 
"Goodnight ___", Jungkook calls after you, taking a step outside. 
"Mhm night", you say over your shoulder before closing the door behind you. 
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You don’t call him for a week and then you start missing him. So you text him and ask him if he wants to have dinner at your place. 
His answer came an hour (and your endless torment of nervousness) later. 
Kook: That would be cool. I can come over at eight. Is that too late?
You told him that it wasn’t and that you would be making fried chicken tonight. Jungkook answered you ten minutes later. 
Kook: oh wooow *-*💕
And the heart he added sent you down such a spiral that you almost broke your phone in half. He never used hearts with you before and you may have screeched for a good five minutes afterwards. Once calmed down enough to actually function (because trust me you will never be completely calm ever again) you finally began preparing tonight's dinner whilst listening to cheesy love songs and giggling to yourself.
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Jungkook arrived at exactly eight o'clock with his hair tousled from letting it air dry after swim practice. 
"Hey", you open the door to him with a goofy grin.
"Hey, uhm", he scratches his neck, "I know I said I'd be here at eight, but can you give me ten minutes to change into different clothes? They smell like chlorine." 
You look over your shoulder at the nicely plated chicken. Your goofy grin drops. It will most definitely become cold. 
"Yes….", you answer him hesitantly. 
"Thank you, gosh you are an angel", he says and leans close to peck your lips, "see you soon", he says and hurries to his apartment as if he hadn’t even realised what he had done.
You are left staring, lips parted and head dizzy. He just kissed you. Holy shit he just kissed you! This actually just happened. He kissed you. He kissed you. His lips touched yours. In a kiss. A kiss. 
You close the door and fall against it, fingers touching your lips. First he sends you a heart and now he is kissing you. Did that week of no contact actually work? Did he realise that if he wanted to keep you he needed to work a little harder? Because if it did you are going to ghost him more often. This was only partially the talk of a woman madly in love with an oblivious idiot. You wouldn’t actually ghost him, that would be way too mean for you. But holy moly oh my god he just kissed you!!
Knock. Knock. 
The sound startles you to the point of you making a little sound.
"Okay he is back, you can do this. This is easy", you take a deep breath for good measures and turn.
You open the door to a newly dressed Jungkook with his styled bangs covering his eyebrows. Wow. He looks so good that your heart is skipping a beat.
"You're back", you say, grinning goofily and stepping closer to kiss him again. 
"Yes hah", he laughs nervously and swerves past you, "so uhm chicken? Is it already done?" 
He steps inside and kicks off his slippers. He looks around for a moment, fumbling with the hem of his striped shirt. You wait for a moment, hoping that he would mention the kiss, but he doesn’t and it makes you pout. It even seems as if he is actively trying to act as if it never even happened. The swerving past you was proof enough for you.
"Yes it's done already. Come on let's eat", you murmur sadly, dragging your feet over to your dining table. 
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You and him don’t talk a lot during dinner. You never really do, because talking meant looking into each other's eyes and you both just couldn’t do that. It was really scary to look into Jungkook's eyes because you always start stuttering and that is so embarrassing to do in front of him. So you ate your chicken in silence and felt more frustrated by the second. 
Jungkook stayed for dessert after you asked him in hopes that this would lessen the tension. It was your half eaten bar of marzipan chocolate and three oatmeal cookies. You shared it on your couch, listening to music as you did. The tension really didn’t get less. On the contrary, while you were waiting for him to mention the kiss he was busy staring at your plants and chewing the cookie nervously. 
"I like that band", Jungkook says and plays with the cookie in his fingers. He just couldn’t take the silence anymore and needed to talk.
"Mhm yeah, they are good", you agree, shifting on the couch, "I want to see them live if they ever come here." 
"Yeah? Me too." 
You look at him, waiting for him to ask you if you wanted to go together. 
"What?" he asks instead, looking from side to side nervously.
"Nothing." 
You turn away and eat your cookie. He watches the way your jaw tenses and your nostrils flare.
"So uhm, how were your exams?" he asks in hopes of lessening the tension.
"My exams?" you ask, tilting your head to the side in question.
"Yeah the ones you were busy with this week", he explains with slight confusion in his eyes. 
Oooh the exams you made up. Shoot, you completely forgot about that lie already. 
"They were okay. I'm just glad that they are over", you lie. 
"Yeah", he says in a laugh, "I feel you." 
He takes a bite of his cookie and speaks once he has swallowed it. 
"What were they about?" 
"Uhm…" you pause to think, "...German." 
Your eyes zoned out on your German language book and so you said the first thing that came into your mind at that moment. 
"I see, cool", he smiles shyly, "do you still have more exams?" 
"No, I had my last one today." 
"Mhm cool. So does that mean we can hang out more again?" 
"Yeah I guess."
"That's so cool", he murmurs and looks away to scratch the side of his neck. 
You look away too, twisting the material of your sweatpants. This is so freaking uncomfortable. 
"So uhm, how was swim practice?" you ask, trying not to show how down you are.
"It was good. The coach said that my dives are getting really good." 
"Oh that’s cool, I’m proud of you." 
Jungkook fumbles with his cookie furiously, cheeks becoming beet red. 
"Thank you", he whispers with his nose scrunching up, "uhm…" he fakes looking at your clock, "oh it's already so late. I think I should go", he says, standing up. 
It tugs at your heart strings that he already wants to leave so soon. He hasn’t even mentioned the kiss and now he wants to flee again like he always does.
"You want to go already?" you ask, following after him.
He scrambles to the door, cookie still in his fingers.
"I don't want to keep you up." 
"Why would you keep me up?" 
"Don’t you have dance practice tomorrow?" 
"Technically I do, but I don't want to go." 
"Why? Did something happen?" 
"No uhm…", you begin scratching your neck frantically, "...I was thinking that maybe we could have breakfast tomorrow...together, uhm...after you stayed overnight?"
"You want me to sleep here?" he gasps, eyes widening. 
You look at your feet and nod your head. 
"Only if you want to though." 
This would be the first time you and him would fall asleep together. You have no idea if he even wants something like this or if whatever thing you and him were having was still far too new for such a big step. But you were a little desperate tonight because he gave you all that hope with the heart and the kiss and now you want him to act goddamn it.
"Can I just quickly go to my place and shower?" he asks.
"Sure...uhm yeah you can, but you can shower here." 
"No it's fine really", he opens the door and stumbles outside, "give me twenty, I'll be back", he says and throws the door closed. 
You watch through your spy as he stumbles to his door and almost falls face first into his apartment. 
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Jungkook doesn’t take twenty minutes, he takes an hour. You had already given up all hope of him coming back (and also whatever thing you and him were having) when he knocked on the door again.
"Hey", he says, hair fluffy from being freshly washed. The scent of his vanilla shower gel surrounds him.  He is wearing sky blue boxer shorts and a white shirt, you know both of them to be his pyjamas. 
"Those were the longest twenty minutes ever", you grumble. 
"I know, I’m sorry. I kinda overdid the beauty routine. I just didn’t want to stink." 
You snort and chuckle. His attempt at not smelling bad for you makes you feel a little less mad at him. 
"You never stink", you murmur, "come on in, I warmed up the bed already." 
Jungkook knows what you mean by that sentence. That you had already given up on him coming over and went to bed without him. But as a really nervous idiot with a massive phobia of confrontation, he stays silent and tiptoes behind you whilst suffering from serious heart palpitations.
Your laptop was on, illuminating the wall behind your bed blue. You lift it up from your sheets.
"Sorry, I was watching Queer Eye", you explain. 
"It's fine. Do you want to watch it?" 
"Now?" 
"Yeah."
You study his features. 
"Sure we could do that. I just started a new episode", you say, crawling under the blanket. 
Jungkook stays by your bed, looking down at you with widened eyes. You look up. 
"Are you not going to join me?"
"I am!" he exclaims and scrambles on your bed. 
You open the blanket for him but he denies you with a shake of his head. 
"Very well then", you grumble, pressing play. You are annoyed again. You literally made it so obvious that you wanted him under your blanket and yet he didn’t get it. 
You watch the episode next to each other without speaking a word, let alone moving. You could tell that Jungkook was cold the entire time, judging by the millions and millions of goosebumps on his naked thighs and yet he still didn’t crawl under the blanket with you. Was it because if he did, your naked legs would have touched? You know they would have, because throughout the entire episode they were pressed together with the blanket separating your skin from his'. 
"That was really cool. Do you want to watch another?" he asks, fumbling with his thumbs. 
"No, I’m tired, I want to sleep", you say dryly, pressing the off button of your laptop aggressively. 
Jungkook watches you as you discard it on the floor and then flip on your side, pulling the edge of the blanket to your cheek. You have your back turned to him. 
"Okay", a pause, then, "do you have a blanket for me?" 
You sigh loudly. He is so freaking oblivious. 
"On the couch." 
"Thank you." 
He rolls out of bed and waddles to your sofa. Once he retrieved your blanket he waddles back to bed and lies down beside you, keeping his distance as good as possible. 
It makes you really sad that he doesn’t even want to cuddle up to you. 
"Goodnight ___", he tells you, gnawing on his lower lip to wait for a reaction from you. 
You just huff out air and keep the cold shoulder turned to him.  
You counted at least six minutes of silence until you can’t take it anymore and you flip onto your other side to face him. 
He is resting on his back, fingers sprawled out on his stomach and hair spread on your pillow. He has his eyes closed but that changes real quick when he feels you scoot closer to him and drape your arm across his chest. 
He tenses up and clenches his jaw. Your warm breath is fanning over the side of his neck repeatedly and it makes his skin tingle and shivers run down his spine. 
"Are you awake?" he whispers. 
"Yes", you say, making an effort to brush your lips over his neck as you speak. It makes his chest rise in a shaky inhale and sink in an even shakier exhale. 
"What are you doing?" 
"Cuddling you." 
"Why?" he asks and shifts uncomfortably. 
"Because I want to cuddle." 
"Oh, okay", he murmurs and shifts again. 
You rest in silence for exactly forty five seconds and then you grow annoyed by his continuous tenseness. 
You let go of him and scoot back, turning on your fairy lights to see him better.
"You really don’t like cuddling do you?" 
"What?", he blinks repeatedly, "but I enjoyed this. What do you mean?" 
"That's how you are when you enjoy things? You’re basically stress sweating right now and you are as tense as if you wanted to mimic being a freaking statue." 
"But I like this", he insists quietly. 
"Do you really? Because I didn’t get the feeling whatsoever. As a matter of fact I don’t even know if you even want to be with me in the first place." 
"What?" he sits up with his legs crossed, "don't say that, that's not true." 
"Is it?" you challenge, sitting up as well. 
"Yes", he starts pouting, "what the hell? It's been going so well those past four months and now you say all those things", he murmurs sadly, lowering his eyes. 
"It's not been going well and you know that." 
"No I don’t be-because for me everything was going so w-well." 
"Jungkook you don’t even want to kiss me, let alone cuddle me or show me in any way that I am more than just a friend to you." 
"But I did", he whispers, "so many times." 
"When?" 
"Whenever I, I cooked for you. Or whenever I told you that I liked our date. A-and when I came over whenever you asked e-even if I busy before." 
You realised as he spoke that there were indeed occasions when you felt really appreciated by him. All those cute dinner dates he prepared for you with candlelight and cheesy music and all those times he spent minutes letting you know what he liked about the evening or all the times he arrived at your door out of breath and sweaty because he hurried back to you from whatever place he was at before. You hadn’t forgotten those times, they just grew unimportant as you grew selfishly greedy for more than just words and actions. 
"I know…I’m sorry", you murmur, lowering your eyes, "I just feel a little frustrated lately." 
"With me?" 
"Yeah partially." 
"So I didn’t just imagine it. Oh my god. Why? What did I do?" 
"Nothing. You are quite literally doing nothing and that frustrates me because I want you to act on all the clues I send you." 
"So you want me to be more involved?" he clears his throat, "o-okay", he says and laughs nervously. 
"Would that be such a problem for you?" you study his features and how they scrunch up in awkwardness, "are you perhaps ace?" 
"Mhm?" his head snaps up.
"Asexual. They aren’t really interested in sex and some don’t like skinship in any form. Are you perhaps like that too?" 
"What?" he gasps and begins shaking his head vigorously, "no of course I like skinship and I'm not asexual." 
"Then do you not like it with me?" 
"I like it with you."
"Then why aren’t you reciprocating it when I try to initiate it?" 
"Because I talked to Jimin."
Jimin was your shared friend. Well, he was more of an acquaintance to you, who you sometimes talked to after your shared dance practice. But he was Jungkook's friend, they were in the same Taekwondo class and you know that they talked a lot. 
"What does Jimin have to do with this?" 
"Because he told me that, that women like cool guys who are always really collected and a b-badboy. And, and that a distant man, who doesn’t show emotion a lot is really hot to them. And I thought you liked it when I was being all cold and mysterious because that's what Jimin told me you like", he babbles in a whine, eyes widened and lips pouty.
"Hold up. So you're telling me that all this time you were following the advice of the biggest playboy on campus?" 
Jungkook cringes in realisation. 
"But he told me that women don’t like it when we are really pushy with skinship a-and so I tried to hold back and give you space so you are comfortable", he explains, "I thought I was doing good", he adds with a pout.
You laugh in disbelief. It all makes sense now. 
"I do like it that you didn’t rip my clothes off at the first chance you got, but goddamn it Kook, a little more reaction to my skinship would be nice. You don’t have to turn into a statue, you know?" 
"I'm sorry", he whispers, hiding his face behind his hands. He takes a deep, shaky breath to calm down his escalating pulse, wishing for the floor to swallow him whole. 
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to be a gentleman", he croaks, rocking himself back and forth.
"Hey it's fine. I accept your apology. Also it's sweet that you wanted to be a gentleman", you say and touch his knee to soothe him, "also don’t listen to Jimin anymore, I like it when you are sweet and show emotion. Badboys suck really bad, I don’t like them."
"This is so embarrassing", he groans and buries his face deeper in his palms. 
"No it's not and I don't judge", you assure him. 
Jungkook groans and raises his head. His blush has spread over his entire face. He looks like Hoseok - another shared friend - after he drank two glasses of beer. His big eyes race between yours. 
"So you like it when I’m sweet?" 
"Yes very much." 
"Wow", he breathes in awe, gazing at you with a fond sparkle in his pretty eyes.
The silence isn't heavy but it is making you nervous nonetheless. He grasps the bedsheets and twists them, getting on his knees. He is closer to you in this position, you can smell his minty toothpaste in his breath. His gaze shifts to your lips, his tongue sticks out to wet his own. 
"Can I?" he asks in a hushed whisper. 
"Yes you can", you breathe, cupping his cheeks to pull him closer. 
The kiss is chaste. Nothing more than the peck he gave you earlier that night. And then he already pulls back again, licking over his lips nervously and sitting back on his feet. 
He giggles shyly, lowering his head and fumbling with the leg hem of his boxer shorts. 
"That was really nice. I liked it a lot", you say with your voice giddy, "did you like it too?" 
He nods his head and giggles. 
"Can I do it again?" you ask him. 
He nods his head, tilting it up a second later. He lets his eyes fall closed and waits for your kiss with pouted lips and held breath. 
He releases it real quick once your lips actually touch his'. You kiss him a lot more than just a peck. Your fingers are threaded through his soft hair, lips moving slowly. Jungkook was a little clumsy at first but found your rhythm very soon. It is gentle and without tongue, just lips on lips and shaky inhales whenever one pulls back slightly. It is so nice. Your entire body tingles in the feeling and every so often your teeth clash with his’ when both of you smiled and giggled into the kiss. It was literally so perfect. 
You scoot closer, the kiss to his lips breaks as you let it trail over his face. His burning cheeks, the tip of his nose, his eyelids and forehead. You kiss them, making him giggle and his shoulders rise to his ears. 
You finally pull back, heart racing in anticipation of whatever look he is wearing on his face. Shy fondness. It makes his big eyes sparkle and his soft cheeks glow rosy. 
"That was so nice", he breathes, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. 
"Yes, it was so nice. You have really soft lips." 
"I used an exfoliant tonight", he explains. 
"In case we would kiss?" 
He nods his head and avoids eye contact. 
"Did you want to kiss me?" 
"Yes all the time. It was so hard to hold back", he pouts.
You laugh fondly. 
"So did you want to kiss me when we were watching Queer Eye?"
"Yes of course." 
"And Iron Man?" 
He blushes, "yes so much." 
"I don't think you should listen to Jimin's advice anymore", you joke, making him laugh shyly. 
"I don't think so either", he agrees and finally looks back into your eyes. 
He cups your cheek and draws closer, eyes glued to your lips. It is your turn to let your eyelids flutter closed and hold your breath.
The kiss feels just as epic and amazing and exciting as it did all those few times before. He is such a great kisser. Really gentle and sweet and yet passionate. You just can’t get enough of it. 
After way too many minutes you grew so greedy that you pushed at his chest and made him fall into the pillows. He gasps, breaking the kiss to stare at you with his swollen lips parted in surprise. 
You giggle, rubbing your nose against his cheek. You are almost on top of him, one leg draped over his hips and chest pressed against his'. 
You connect your lips with his neck. 
"Ah", he lets out, fingers twitching on your back. 
His pulse is racing against your lips, his chest vibrates in a shy moan. 
You kiss him, suck on his skin softly and pull back to look at his face. 
His pupils are just slightly bigger than before. 
“This felt really good”, he lets you know just slightly out of breath. 
“Yes?” you bury your face back in his neck, dragging your nose up and down his skin to bask in his scent. 
He sighs and shivers. 
You inhale deeply before kissing the spot under his earlobe. His back twitches off the mattress in an arch, his fingers twists the fabric of your sleepshirt. 
You look at him again, grinning goofily. He looks so affected. It's affecting you too.
“I like how you smell”, you say, dancing your fingers over his chest. You can feel his racing heart against your fingertips. 
“I washed myself really thoroughly”, he explains. 
“Even your neck?” 
“Yeah, I went like”, he says and demonstrates it by rubbing his hands over his neck rather aggressively, “until I was sure that I would smell nice.”
You grin fondly. He is so cute.
“In case I would kiss your neck?” 
“Yeah”, he says in a breathy laugh, nodding his head and widening his eyes. 
You giggle, drawing closer until your lashes are tickling his cheek. He turns his head so his lips are brushing over yours as you speak. 
“You’re such an oblivious idiot you know that Kook?” you kiss his lips then speak again, “I was already going crazy thinking that we weren’t even dating and I made you uncomfortable with trying to be all touchy.”
“In my defense, you could have said something too”, he says and kisses you. 
You break the kiss after a minute, outlining his lips with your thumb. 
“I know, sorry I kept all of this to myself. I’m just really bad at confrontation.” 
“Me too, I suck at it big times.”
You giggle, Jungkook giggles too. You stumble into a kiss again, kissing away all those misunderstandings and frustrations and unsaid words until your chests actually felt like they would burst. You are on top of Jungkook by now, knees caging in his waist and elbows resting beside his face while your fingers were in his hair. Jungkook was holding you, running his hands up and down your back and legs, leaving out your booty for now because he was still far too shy to take that step. 
You break the kiss again not only so both of you could breathe, but also to speak. 
“We could try to talk more from now on”, you suggest. 
“Yes, I will try for you”, he whispers. 
“And I will try for you”, you promise, falling into a kiss again afterwards. 
Your bodies grind together before melting closer. He mewls softly, swallowing the tiny moan you let out in answer. He lets his tongue dart out, making you gasp and flinch back. 
“Sorry”, he says in an instance, fearing that he went too far.
You don’t answer him, instead you press your lips against his deeply and kiss him passionately. He gasps and shudders, struggling for a moment. This is making his head hazy and his chest tingly. He dares to dart his tongue out again, meeting your own this time around. Moans mix together, bodies grind on each other, stomachs tingle in butterflies. You can’t kiss like this for long and then you both pull back at the same time, staring at the other in a mixture of surprise and slight arousal. 
“That was…” you begin. 
“...wow”, he finishes your sentence. 
“Yeah”, you agree. 
He takes your hand and presses it against his chest. 
“My heart is racing so much.”
You take his hand and press it against your chest. 
“Mine is racing too.”
“Are you also nervous?” 
“Yeah a little.” 
“If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”
“I want to do this with you. Unless you don’t want to, then we don’t have to.” 
He squeezes your hand. 
“I want to do this with you too. I just don’t have lots of experience.”
“Me neither. You would be the second boy.” 
“You would be the second girl for me too”, he confesses and blushes. 
You blush too and look to the side. You giggle. 
“This is so embarrassing to talk about”, you confess, feeling your cheeks heat up. 
“Yeah it is”, he agrees. 
Your eyes meet in a shy gaze. 
“How should we start this?” you ask him. 
“Maybe we could undress each other? This could be really hot”, he suggests. 
“Yes, I like this idea”, you say and scoot down his body to sit down on his lap. Jungkook sits up, holding your waist between his warm hands. 
You and him smile shyly, draw closer and kiss again. You kiss until his fingers have disappeared under your shirt and your own are tugging at the hem of his own and being naked in front of the other doesn’t sound that scary anymore. You start pulling each other’s shirts up at the same time, soon having to come to the conclusion that it won’t work like that as arms get stuck and tangled and joints almost dislocate in weird positions. 
You stop undressing each other and pull back, both of you burning up in embarrassment but letting your hands run over the other's torso. 
“You go first”, he says, laughing. 
“Yeah okay.”
He raises his arms and lets you take his shirt off. You throw it on the ground, staring at his eyes obsessively. You don’t quite dare yet to look at his torso. 
“It’s your turn”, you say, raising your arms. 
Jungkook begins undressing you. It goes really smoothly at first until he reaches your face and not only squishes your forehead but also tugs up your nose rather painfully. 
“Ouchies”, you grunt and giggle. 
“Sorry”, he gasps, pulling off the shirt quickly and clutching it against his face in nervousness, “so sorry.” 
“It’s fine”, you rub your nose, “god that was such a mess”, you cringe and giggle. 
Jungkook discards your shirt and touches your sides again. 
“Was it at least a little sexy though?” 
“Yeah it was a little sexy”, you say and mean it. Even if you and him acted like complete idiots whilst taking off your shirts, it still left your stomachs tingling in excitement of what was to come.
"I will look now", he lets you know. 
"Okay." 
Jungkook shifts his gaze downwards, brows shooting up and lips parting. 
“Oh wow”, he breathes, making you blush. 
You aren’t wearing a bra (because sleeping with a bra on is uncomfortable) and so he is getting the best view of your naked breasts right now. You are really nervous, but don’t hide away because of how mesmerised he looks. Somehow this makes you feel really sexy. He drags his hands up your stomach, fingers tickling your sides, until his thumbs touch the swell of your breasts. He looks into your eyes. 
“They are so beautiful”, he says softly, leaning closer.
He keeps up eye contact as his lips come into contact with your left breast. They leave the softest of kisses on your skin, making you shudder each time. All the while his right hand is caressing your other breast, the warmth of his soft palm feels like fire on your skin. 
“This feels really nice”, you sigh, breaking eye contact because it would make you way too nervous otherwise. You close your eyes and pet his hair, basking in his touches and kisses. 
You like how gentle he still is, how slow and calculated he places each of his kisses and how safe your breasts feel in his hands. It makes you feel the appreciation you had started to grow so greedy for. 
Jungkook soon lifts you up and places you down at the foot end of your bed, resting between your legs and kissing up your collarbones until he has your neck under his lips. 
His naked chest is rubbing against yours, his skin feels so soft and warm, he smells so nice. You especially like the way his spine feels under your fingertips or the way his back muscles move with every little movement he makes. He moans cutely and sucks on your skin just enough to make it tingle before moving to a new spot and repeating what he had done before. 
“It's so nice”, you breathe, making him kiss your jawline tenderly in answer.
You run your fingers along his sides, making him shudder with each touch. You are happy that you said something to him. You weren’t planning on saying something at first, because you feared that you and him would end up fighting, but now that the situation has escalated in such an epic, amazing way you are happy that you felt brave enough to speak up. Honestly you feel so freaking good that you fear nothing else in this world could ever come close to this feeling again. 
Jungkook stops the kisses to gaze at you and caress your cheek. 
“I like your body a lot”, he tells you with his voice surprisingly deep for him. 
You look down at his body, drinking in the paths of it and thinking to yourself that there is no other body more beautiful than his’ on this earth. You don’t feel like such a creep doing so now.
“I like your body too. You are really beautiful and hot”, you say, making him smile shyly. 
He draws closer and kisses you hungrily. He is threading his fingers through your hair and lets out desperate little squeaks every so often. He is so not at all like the shy, nervous Jungkook you fell in love with. He is so vocal and needy all of a sudden and his voice has this really sexy rasp on it. It makes your toes tingle and your stomach tighten. 
You push at his chest and roll you and him over, taking his hands to hold them tightly. He mewls, tilting his head up to kiss you just as deeply as he wants to do. But you let him chase you fruitlessly, breaking the kiss to giggle shyly.
“What?” he asks breathlessly.
“This”, you say and grind your soaked core against his swollen length.
He moans shakily, eyes widening and fingers squeezing yours.
“I’m really wet”, you stutter, grinding down a second time.
“Y-you made me hard”, he chokes out.
“I know”, you giggle, leaning down to kiss his neck, “it’s really hot”, you say between kisses, moving on to the other side of his neck until you have him mewling underneath you.
You abandon his hands all to his dismay and run your fingers down his collarbones and chest. Your lips follow the path they draw, kissing every inch of his perfect torso until you have reached his lower abs and he is panting quickly. You touch the hem of his boxer shorts, making him tense up.
“No! Wait!” he exclaims, hazy mind clearing up for a moment.
“What is it?” you ask.
"You don’t have to do this”, he says and blushes.
“Why? Do you not like blowjobs?”
“I, I do, but-“, he stops talking.
“But what?”
“What if I taste weird to you? Or what if I smell weird? Or you don’t like the shape of it?”
You smile fondly and lean down to kiss his lower abs.
“I don’t think any of those things will happen.”
He props himself up on his elbows.
“But what if they do? I would literally die if they did”, he says and pouts.
You chuckle.
"I promise you they won’t, but if you really don’t want this, we can do something else instead", you say and kiss up his body. 
Jungkook pants and mewls, presenting his torso to you with a cute arch of his back. When you reach his neck and start kissing it, he even goes as far as to tilt his head back for you. 
"I do want this", he chokes out. 
"Really?" 
"Yes. I'm just so nervous." 
"Don't be, I’ll be gentle", you promise him.
You smile and kiss down his body again until your lips are brushing over the hem of his boxers. Jungkook mewls and lifts his hips, silently asking you to undress him. You do so with nervous fingers, avoiding the important look for as long as possible. You even considered starting the blowjob with your eyes closed until you remembered that Jungkook was your boyfriend and he gave you his consent to look at him in a sexual way and that you were allowed to gawk at him right now. 
"Can I look?" you still ask. 
"Yes", he answers you. 
Your eyes flit up. 
"Oh wow", you breathe, reaching out in an instance, "it's so...pretty." 
"You - oh wow ah  - you, you think so?" he stutters, feeling hazy from your tender touches. 
"Yes, I can assure you that I like the shape of it", you joke and it makes him laugh.
His laugh turns into a gasped moan when he feels your kiss on his cockhead. 
"Ah", he gasps, eyes glued to you as he watches your every move with a racing heart. His abs are tensing and his thighs are twitching every so often. He loves it so much.
You moan and kiss up and down his length a few times. He smells so very nice and his skin is so soft. He must have shaved for you in his hour long beauty routine. 
"You smell nice", you gush, kissing the spot next to where he wants you most. That tiny, overly sensitive spot between his uppermost inner thigh and his length, where you can feel his pulse race and make him shudder. 
"I was really thorough", he tells you in a sigh. 
"Yeah? I think that is really hot", you say, blushing at your own dirty talk until you can feel how it makes his cock twitch. He likes it when you talk like this and the realisation makes you feel so sexy that all of a sudden you grow terribly hungry for his cock.
You kiss up his length before finally wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking down slowly.
His forehead creases as his brows shoot up in surprise. He blinks repeatedly, lips forming an O and thighs twitching. He can’t believe how good this feels. 
"Oh god ___", he murmurs breathly, twisting the sheets. His body feels so warm, it radiates from his center and makes him tingle all over.
You release his cock, kiss his tip and take him in again. You don’t come far because you are way too shy to gag in front of him, but you try to make up for it by touching the rest of him and hoping that it feels good. 
What you don’t know is that Jungkook was currently on cloud nine, asking himself what he had done in his life to deserve something that feels so freaking good. He loves every second of it, feeling himself get addicted to the sensation more and more. 
He moans and places his hand at the back of your head. He doesn’t guide you or push you down and stress you, he just wants to run his fingers through your hair. He really likes your hair and thinks it feels even better when you suck his cock. 
You move up again, sucking with all you got as you do. 
"Ah! Ah, ah!" Jungkook moans and bucks his hips up accidentally. You gag in the process and flinch away, giggling shyly as you hide your face from him. 
"I'm sorry did I hurt you?" he gasps and pets your hair. 
"No, but I gagged", you explain and rest your face on his thigh, "that’s really embarrassing." 
"I don't think so, it was kinda hot", he assures you. 
"You think so?" you look up at him, "don't you think it's disgusting?" 
He shakes his head. 
"Really?" 
"Yes", he blushes, "I like it." 
Your stomach tingles in a wave of confidence. You sit up and cup his face, kissing him a moment later. He has you pressed against his body in an instance, parting his lips so you could feed him his taste. He doesn’t think that he tastes that bad, but he likes it a lot more once your taste grows stronger again. It makes him wonder if something else tastes just as sweet as your lips do. 
He breaks the kiss, "can I eat your pussy in return?" 
You plop down on his lap and stare at him with widened eyes. 
"I don't know. What if I taste weird?" 
"Did I taste weird to you?"
"No of course not, but-"
"You don’t taste weird either." 
You lower your eyes. 
"I'm a little nervous to receive it. I like giving, but receiving is hard." 
"Me too", he agrees, "but it feels really good to receive. And I'll try to do the best job ever."
Your eyes meet. 
"We could do it at the same time?" you suggest.
"What do you mean?" 
"I'll show you."
You push him down into the mattress, "stay like this and then." 
You turn and sit down on his stomach, hands resting on his thighs. 
"I can suck your dick and you can eat my pussy like this", you explain, looking back at Jungkook. 
He is quite literally salivating at the view you so mindlessly presented to him. 
"Did you get it?" you ask. 
His eyes meet yours, he nods vigorously. 
"Do you...want this?" you ask, growing more and more nervous the longer you sit in this position. 
"Yeah so much", he croaks and touches your hips to pull you closer. 
You lift your hips, cringing when you can feel the wet string of arousal you leave on his chest. But he doesn’t seem to mind, growling deeply as he pulls you closer and closer. It is like the view of your core and ass in those panties flipped a switch in his mind. Shy, hesitant Jungkook is gone and horny, impatient Jungkook replaced him, that's how it feels like and it excites you so, so much.
"Not so fast, my panties", you squeak. 
"I got it", he dismisses you, pulling them to the side and pushing your hips down on his face. 
"Ah!" you squeal, head snapping up and thighs twitching. It is as if you are being electrocuted over and over again. You hadn’t even realised how wet and warm his tongue is until you had it against your clit. He flicks it over your bundle of nerves quickly, moaning into your pussy and massaging your hips. You had expected everything but not for him to go so freaking feral for your pussy. This is a side of him which will haunt you in your wettest of dreams. 
"God, Kook", you moan, grabbing his cock and taking him into your mouth to stifle your sounds. You bop your head up and down, playing with his balls at the same time.
He mewls and presses you closer, tongue speeding up and making you quicken your own pace as well.
What you and him were doing most definitely didn’t win the price for sexiest sixtynining. At one point you had to pause because your buttcheek cramped. At another point Jungkook needed a break because he curled his toes so hard they cramped up too. And it was really sloppy and messy and also clumsy, but it felt really good to both of you and that was all that mattered. You didn’t need awards for sexiest performance when simply being with the other felt so incredibly rewarding. 
You roll off of him with your limbs sprawled out. You are literally aching in the desire to climax, even taking a breath hurts. But you didn’t want to climax on his face because this would have taken way too much courage, which you didn’t own. So you rolled off at the last moment, leaving both of you aching. 
Jungkook stumbles to his knees and crawls between your legs. His face is still drenched in your juices as he bends down to kiss you. Your taste mixed with his in an addicting cocktail, making both of you moan and mewl. His hands are basically groping you, squeezing whatever ever part of your body finds itself under them. It is so good.
"I want even more", he breaks the kiss and says. He runs his right hand down to your panties, pulling them off quickly. They land somewhere on the floor and then your attention shifts to his hand running along your inner thighs. 
"I want more too", you say and reach down to touch his cock. You pull him closer. 
"Wait", he flinches back, "condom." 
"Good that you remember, my brain is already mush because of you."
He laughs shyly, "I almost forgot too." 
You sit up, making him rest on his heels. It is so peculiar to have him sitting on your bed with his cock standing hard and proud against his toned stomach and his chin glistening in your juices. But even more than peculiar it was exciting. You never even dared to dream that one day you would have the cute, shy Taekwondo student, who you share art history with, on your bed in such a position. 
You break your eyes away before you stare too much. It is still a little scary to do it so freely. 
"Don't judge me but I bought a few different condoms just in case", you explain and reach for your bedside drawer, "I got the ultra thin ones, but in different sizes because I didn’t know which one would fit you", you place them in front of him, "here I think you know your penis better than I do." 
You cringe in realisation. 
"Please act like I didn’t just say penis. This is such an unsexy word." 
He laughs and takes the condom packages. 
"Everything you say is sexy", he assures you, reading the packages, "here this one will fit me", he says and hands it to you. 
"You need to put it on", you hand it back to him.
"Oh yeah", he cringes, "I'm such an idiot. Wait, let me just quickly do it."
You watch him as he struggles and fails. 
"My fingers are slippery", he laughs nervously. 
You watch intendly. 
"Almost got it", you say in encouragement.
It slips off again, making both of you gasp in surprise. He catches it and tries again, only to fail under your intense gaze. 
"P-please don’t stare so much", he stutters, blushing. 
"God sorry", you close your eyes and turn away, "I'm such a creep." 
Jungkook works in silence for a moment until he finally cheers in victory. 
"It's on! I did it!" 
You turn and look. 
"It looks comfortable." 
"Yes it feels good. You got the right size." 
Your eyes meet, both of you cringe at the same time. This is so embarrassing to talk about.
"Let’s just don’t talk that much", he suggests and scoots closer. 
He pushes you down into the mattress, making himself comfortable between your legs. He leans down to kiss your neck and reaches for his cock. Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of his cock rubbing through your folds. He is panting, it mixes with your own nervous breathing. 
Your eyes meet and both of you giggle. 
"I'm really nervous", he confesses, smiling shyly. 
"Me too", you agree, retorting the smile. 
"It feels really exciting doesn’t it?" 
"Yes, it does."
He reaches your entrance and starts pushing, watching how your eyes widen slightly. He stops. 
"Are you scared that it will hurt?" he asks.
"No, not really", you grin sheepishly, "I kinda really want to have you inside", you confess and blush. 
"Yes?", he lets out a squeaky giggle, "it's so weird to hear you talk like this." 
"Weird?" 
"Yeah in a good way. It's so exciting and really hot." 
He draws closer to peck your lips. 
"I also want to be inside of you", he whispers in a rasp and it would have sounded so beyond sexy hadn’t he giggled shyly afterwards. 
Your eyes meet again, both of you burning up in embarrassment but feeling so, so horny. He starts pushing again, furrowing his brows and holding his breath. It only burns a little at first and it is manageable because after that second of discomfort you feel incredibly warm all over. 
"Oh that’s nice", you say breathily, rolling your hips up in instinct. 
He shudders and whimpers, "you're so warm", he whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "oh my god ___ this is literally so good", he moans, bottoming out. 
"I think so too", you sigh, wrapping your arms around him because this felt like the only right thing to do. 
And it is. Because as Jungkook finally starts moving and his back muscles ripple with every thrust and your neck tingles in the breathy moans he muffles with it, you are so happy about the close proximity you and him were in that you felt your head become dizzy. And so you pull him even closer, moaning his name and feeling how it makes him twitch inside of you.
"This is so good. Ah, this is so good. So good", he chants in whispers, floating on the sensations. 
"It's so nice. I like it so much. Don't stop", you answer him repeatedly, basking in the electrifying feelings. 
And it is peculiar, you once again think, that one day you would be in such a position with the cute and shy Taekwondo student, on whom you had the biggest and silliest crush for the longest time and who so often made your thoughts jumble when he looked at you. And now he is close to you, you can feel his skin on yours and bask in his sweet scent and it isn’t considered creepy anymore because he was now your boy and you in return were his girl. 
You twist his hair.
"I'm really close", you moan, arching into him. 
Jungkook reaches between your bodies on instinct, finding your clit in an instance and making your legs shake in answer. And it is so peculiar, you think as your body tenses in preparation for your high, that you can call him yours for as long as he wants to be yours.
"Now", you sigh, stumbling over the edge a second later whilst grasping his shoulders and sobbing his name. 
Jungkook follows soon after, clasping you so tightly to his trembling body you fear he might break you by accident. 
He finishes with a squeaky moan, littering your neck with kisses before collapsing on top of you. You hug him, outlining the paths of his back and breathing heavily. You like the silence you and him share and the warmth he radiates. You had wanted to close your eyes, but Jungkook stops you beforehand as he rolls off of you with an exhausted but happy sigh.
You chase him, cuddle against his side and nuzzle your nose against his neck.
"I loved this so much", you whisper and giggle.
"Me too. It was literally the best thing ever", he says, caressing your side. 
"Yes, it was." 
"What did you like the most? I think my favourite was the kisses and your blowjob and then when I ate your pussy and then when you hugged me and we had sex." 
"So everything?" 
"Yeah…" he smiles contently, "...everything." 
You giggle, giving him a squeeze. 
"I liked everything too and I like you." 
"I like you too", he answers in an instance, squeezing your waist tenderly. 
You sigh and finally close your eyes, wanting to drift off to your happy slumber. And you would have if Jungkook hadn’t started to shift all uncomfortably again. 
"What is it?" you ask in a sleepy whine. 
"My cum is running out of the condom", he says and shifts again. 
You chuckle, rolling away. 
"Way to ruin the cuddles, condom", you joke, making him laugh. 
He nudges your side. 
"You should go pee anyway so you don’t get an UTI." 
"Urgh fine, but I want cuddles once I'm back", you say, dragging yourself out of bed. 
"You will get lots and lots!" he calls after you, fumbling with the condom. 
Jungkook keeps his promise that night and he even makes out with you sleepily until both of you drift off to the best sleep you ever had. 
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@tipsydipsydo @bts-fan-obsessed @anonymous2505 @jikooksgirl19 @lilmeowmeowyoongles @fan-ati--c​ @trusfatedk00kie​ @cravingforhotchocolate​ @seagulljk​ @kthblackgf​​ @greezenini​​ @pb-n-juju​​  @flxrcnt​​ @issysor​
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bangtangalicious · a month ago
Touch me wherever oc showing jungkook that she can take care of herself because she learned how to masturbate and just does it in front of him 😍
touch yourself here (m) | jjk
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summary: now that he's learned how to do it, jungkook wants to teach you how to touch yourself too!
pairing: jungkook x reader
wc: 1k
genre: smut pwp drabble | innocent!jungkook x innocent!reader, loss-of-innocence!au
tw: explicit smut, masturbation, fingering (guided masturbation), voyeurism(?), inexperience, slight awkwardness, first time, slight manipulation i guess, early inklings of a dom!jungkook, assume characters are 18+ but naive
a/n: this is a lil drabble from the touch me wherever au, but can be read as a standalone. dear beautiful anon, ik this is a bit different than your scenario so i hope that is okay. thank you for sending this in <3 i hope you enjoy it ;)
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"Do it"
Jungkook large eyes blinked at you expectantly through the reflection of his full-length mirror. He had you sprawled out, your legs wide open as he huddled up besides you on the floor of his bedroom, whispering directions against your shoulder. 
"Just trust me. Touch it" His arm extended, reaching between your legs to where your throbbing, exposed cunt waited in anticipation. Jungkook had called you this morning, excited after discovering that he could relieve his own burning cravings of you with his own hands around his flushed cock. He wanted to show you, to see if perhaps you would be able to do the same thing. 
The moment you arrived, he pulled you into his room, insisting you get undressed. The night before, when his hand had wiggled its way down his own shorts while reminiscing over your feverish encounter, he appreciated the feeling of skin against burning skin. He wanted you to have the same experience. He could tell you were hesitant as he tugged down your jeans, but he knew you trusted him. You wouldn’t say no. Not to him.
The light brush of his finger over your clit had you squealing. Hushing you softly, he began drawing circles over your tingling core, eyes steady on you through the mirror. He relished the way your eyes went half lidded. The way you bit your lip to suppress the moans that so desperately wanted to escape. The way your bare chest began heaving as your breath quickened. The way you fell apart, weak under his touch.
"See what I'm doing?" You nodded shyly. Jungkook thought you looked so cute, especially as a pout appeared on your lips when he retracted his hand. "Now you try”
You pursed your lips, giving him an uncertain look as you reached down where Jungkook's fingers had just been a moment ago, mimicking his actions.
"Yup...in little circles..yesss. Exactly. Just like that" Jungkook encouraged you on, watching from the reflection in front of him as you furrowed your brows, poking at your clit. 
"It doesn't feel as good" You admitted, "I like it better when you do it"
Jungkook sighed."I know but what if I'm not there to help? I don't want you to be in pain" He clicked his tongue “Think about how it felt. When I touched you. It only works if you think about me”
A wave of faintness washed over you as you continued to gently massage your clit. Your eyes locking with Jungkook’s, which caused a burning glow in your chest. Fingers now gliding seamlessly as the area began to dampen.
"See! Wasn't I right?" Jungkook smiled at you, resting his head on your shoulder as he peered down towards your glistening folds. One hand made it’s way to your back, stroking you comfortingly as you continued "Open them wider—your legs. Maybe it'll feel nicer"
You gulped, obeying his suggestion. Turning to look at him directly, your breath escaped you. His face was so close. You felt your cheeks getting warm. A coil building within you, ready to simply burst into flames. He could tell you were feeling it. He did his best to suppress the smirk that tugged at his lips as you began to get flustered. 
A loud gasp left your mouth as the sound of squelching wetness became prominent. You stopped immediately, suddenly feeling embarrassed, but Jungkook grabbed your wrist—shaking his head.
“It’s only me Y/n. Don’t worry. This is good. You feel good, don’t you?”
You nodded reluctantly. Jungkook let his fingers slide over yours, guiding them back to your clit, moving your fingers under his to push them deeper into you. “Try…maybe pressing harder...like this?”
"J..jungkook..." You gasped, burying your face in his shoulder as he continued to fill your body with excruciating pleasure. His heart twisted, seeing you curl into him as you inhaled his scent. Unconsciously causing your hips to buck up while he pushed you even further, speeding up your fingers.
"There you go. Just like that" His voice vibrated against you as you whimpered a pathetic yes in response. "I'm gonna let your hand go...then I want you to go faster okay. I promise, you're gonna feel amazing"
"O..okay" You shivered as the warmth of his hand left yours. He instead cupped your face, forcing you to look back in the mirror.
"Go on. Faster Y/n. You're almost there" He urged as you began to flick your fingers at a rapid pace, heavy breaths unable to keep up with how fast your heart was pounding. 
"Come on. Keep going. Just like that. Don't stop" Jungkook's voice remained steady as he watched you, ensuring that you didn’t slow down. He loved the look in your eyes, something so dark and beautiful seemed to come from them when you were like this.
It had him itching to reach down in his own pants.
"Jungkook I need to stop!" You cried, your other hand tightly gripping his thigh. He shook his head.
"No. Y/n. I'm telling you okay, just keep going. Just do as I say. Almost there...don't you feel amazing Y/n? Tell me"
Your mouth was dry, thighs beginning to tremble, prompting Jungkook to grab them, keeping them apart as you began whining incessantly.
"Yeah...um...it feels really good..." Your legs resisted, but Jungkook's firm grip squeezed down, ensuring you couldn't move. Your back arched, hips bucking as you reached your high. "JUNGKOOK" You screamed. Fingers now covered in liquid. You felt something throb deep within you, causing you to twitch all over. A serene wave of pleasure coursed through your every vein. "Ahhh..ahhh..." You groaned, fingers picking up the pace as you stretched the feeling on as long as you could.
Jungkook watched with piqued interest, cock twitching as you reached your high. He gently caressed your thighs as you began to calm down, removing your finger to examine its sticky state.
His lips found yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as he crawled over your lap.
"Now, give me your hand. You're gonna help me do it too"
masterlist | thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed & lmk what you think <3 have an amazing day!
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sketchguk · 2 months ago
Text
running through the night; pjm
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➳ pairing: ballet instructor!jimin x art teacher!reader
➳ genre: fake dating AU, fwb AU, smut, fluff, angst
➳ wc: 15.3k
➳ synopsis: you were never meant to stumble into bed with your best friend, kim taehyung, nor were you supposed to fall in love with him. perhaps promises were made to be broken because he, too, swore that he’d be gentle with your heart. now, with the other half of the bed cold and empty, you enlist an old flame by the name of park jimin to keep you cozy throughout the festive season. after all, nothing burns brighter than jealousy.
➳ warnings: explicit language, pining, strained parent relationships, alcohol consumption, fingering, breast play, choking, mirror sex, praise kink, penetration, heavy petting
➳ a/n: this is my contribution to the christmas in july collab - a hoeliday well spent hosted by @kookdiaries​ (thank you soo much for the banner, val), @xiaokoo​, and @kithtaehyung​ !! this fic is based on the hallmark film the mistletoe promise (2016). my apologies, i know i’m late :( thank you for your patience !! enjoyy !
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All your life, you have found that there is beauty in chaos. It has its way of following you around, constantly looming over your shoulder ー dark and overcast, but bittersweet. Inevitably so, it’s the crushing weight of all the terrible decisions you love to make. 
At age five, chaos comes in the form of dirt-stained dresses, scraped knees, and scuffed tennis shoes. Although rough play always earns you a slap on the wrist from your mother, your father never fails to offer you a high-five behind her back, his heart swelling with pride after seeing you defend your rightful spot on the kiddy swings. 
At age sixteen, you find yourself sneaking out your bedroom window on sleepless nights, running into chaos, or rather away from it ー you can never be so sure. When the world is quiet and everyone is sound asleep, save for your disgruntled parents, your muddy sneakers carry you past the darkened library and the locked laundromat on the corner of thirty-fourth and fifth. Out of habit, you cross the street and turn into the park, trudging through vacant baseball fields and grassy meadows, the path lit by stardust, fireflies, and eventually sunrise. If you happen to be caught after curfew, at least you’re content knowing you’ve found your peace of mind. 
At age nineteen, you drown yourself in chaos the moment you swap university majors, trading lab coats and microscopes for smocks and oil pastels. That’s when you find out that chaos has an uncanny resemblance to the crinkle of disappointment etched between your mother’s eyebrows. But somehow, her unforgiving frown will never amount to the numbing smile immortalized in your graduation photos.
At age twenty-five, only then do you come to realize that chaos can also present itself in the most beautiful form of all. It’s shaped like tenderness and intimacy, something akin to love, or at least what you presume to be love. 
You were never meant to fall for your best friend, but then again, you have never been one to follow the status quo.
Needless to say, your oblivious mother always has an opinion, unable to refrain from commenting on your decisions, or lack thereof. If it isn’t about (1) your disheveled appearance, (2) your wild demeanor, or (3) your choice of career, then it’s about your inability to attract a desirable partner. So of course, Kim Taehyung, the boy next door, certainly fits the profile, landing a spot on the list at number four. 
“Your dad and I always thought that you two would end up together. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Taehyungie doesn't have a girlfriend yet, does he? He’s always been a good boy.” 
“Remember when you had the biggest crush on him? Did you ever find the heart to confess?” 
You’re surprised that you have yet to find a crater on the inside of your cheek considering how often your tongue prods on the flesh with every reminder and backhanded remark your mother sends your way. That’s precisely why you choose to conceal the details of your life from her, shoving your secrets into a memory box at the back of your closet.
What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right? 
Unbeknownst to anyone, it would probably come as a shock that Taehyungie, your childhood best friend, likes to spend his free time buried between your legs, tongue wedged down your desperate lips as you beg for an ounce of gratification.
Long gone are the innocent days spent riding bicycles around the cul-de-sac, sipping pink lemonade and licking Oreo ice cream in the McDonald’s parking lot. In exchange, you’ve found pleasure in one another’s familiar touch, limbs tangled between linen sheets.
This illicit romance was never meant to be anything more than casual. You’ve heard it a dozen times before, and in equal proportion, Taehyung has said it just as much. When this arrangement comes down to the nitty gritty, it’s nothing but his dirty, little secret.
“No strings attached. We’re just friends, right?” He’d shrug. 
But friends don’t do the things that you do. They don’t play footsie when they think nobody's looking, nor do they shove their hands down one another’s pants when poor Jeongguk is minding his own business on the opposite end of the couch. They aren’t supposed to wake up in one another’s arms, and they definitely aren’t supposed to catch feelings.
After hours, in the dead of the night, Taehyung tends to overstay his welcome, tracing the small of your back with the swirl of his fingerprints. When your voice goes quiet and your heavy lidded eyes succumb to exhaustion, Taehyung likes to brush his lips against the crown of your head as if it means something ー something more than just friends. And with your ear pressed against the bare expanse of his chest, you fall asleep to the lull of his heartbeat. 
Yet the most devastating thing of all is not his warm embrace, something you longed to receive throughout your entire childhood. Rather, it’s his hushed whispers and sweet nothings. Because at the end of the day, there’s no one to blame other than you who finds comfort in his soothing voice. 
If anyone else were to hear Taehyung’s impassioned pillow talk, they would come to know why you’ve fallen for him, unrequited to the point of no return. It’s the way that he talks about his upbringing in the countryside, picking strawberries for his grandmother and making crowns of daisies for his mom. It’s how his intonation rises and falls as he tells you about his unfulfilled dream of becoming a world renowned violinist, but instead having to settle for business law. In the same way, it’s how he reminisces in the past ー from the moment you met at age five, tussling on the grass after having fought for the swingset, to the night he showed up at your doorstep with his college admission letter in hand, ready to unveil the fate of your future endeavors. 
It isn’t a coincidence that Taehyung has been there for you in the same magnitude every step of the way. Throughout childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood, he’s seen it all. He knows all the secrets that you wouldn’t dare whisper to another soul. He remembers all the details that you’ve shared about your life. Your hopes, dreams, and all the fears in between.
Being with Taehyung is easy. It’s homey. Comfortable. Simply, he’s there. 
Kim Taehyung is a sweet, beautiful, chaos ー he’s everything you ever wanted, yet he’s totally and utterly unattainable. 
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Your relationship with Taehyung ended way before it even started, and now you’re forced to get over someone who was never yours to begin with. 
Tae 🧸🍯 [6:13 pm]: going on a date tonight, wish me luck ;) 
Tae 🧸🍯 [6:13 pm]: don’t wait up on me
You think about downing another shot of cheap booze, but if you’re too far gone, you might just text him back. Instead, you tuck your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and do what you do best. You push your feelings aside and bury it six feet under, never to be seen by the light of day. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t effective, but it’s all that you’ve got. 
“Tae’s not coming tonight,” you relay the message. 
Jeongguk hums in acknowledgement, and he stuffs an absurd amount of popcorn into his mouth as if someone is going to take the bowl away from him. Namjoon waves you off, keeping his eyes trained on the movie you have no interest in. Yoongi doesn’t even bat an eyelash, unbothered by the news. 
Saturdays are, in fact, not for the boys.
For you, understanding the plot of the film is a lost cause. Your thoughts wander elsewhere as your attention drifts to the loose threads of your blanket. You begin to fiddle with the fleece, careful not to unravel the stitches. 
In spite of Seokjin’s loud commentary on top of the overbearing sound of the speakers, they only serve as background noise to the intrusive thoughts that trickle into your conscience. You’re preoccupied by the old memories that reel through your head like the end credits of a movie ー “I don’t see myself settling down any time soon. I guess commitment isn’t for me,” Taehyung would murmur, absentmindedly carding his fingers through your hair. “No feelings, no problems, right?” And of course you would nod to his every word, masking the hurt behind your eyes with a sympathetic smile. 
Kim Taehyung is nothing but a mystery to you. You’ll never understand why he romanticizes the what-ifs in life. When he does it, it’s dreamy and optimistic. Truly, you mean that in the most derogatory way because in another life, maybe he could have been the famous musician he always dreamed of. Maybe he could live in a penthouse apartment with the pomeranian he so desperately wants to adopt. Meanwhile, when it comes to you, getting lost in thought about a life with your first love is pathetic. It’s painful and downright disappointing because he doesn’t love you back in the way that you want him to.
Your gaze focuses on the empty spot beside you, one that’s typically reserved for a curly head of hair and a set of shoulders built to lean on. Instead tonight, you prop your elbow on the arm of the sofa, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. In a room full of friends, you still manage to find company in misery.
Unable to focus on the film, there are endless questions that echo in your mind in lieu of the dialogue that enters through ear and out the other. Does he think about you as deeply as you think about him? Does it feel wrong when your side of the bed is occupied by someone else? Do her lips trace over the spots where your touch still lingers? Do they ghost over his skin knowing it’s been held by you? Kissed by you? Loved by you? These questions have no clear cut answer, yet you don’t think you would ever want to know.
You must have been daydreaming for longer than you expected because the sound of the front door clicks shut, pulling you out of your reverie. Just in time, the screen fades to black, and the acknowledgments roll in. Two movies later, all the eggnog and mulled wine are depleted, and the coffee table is filled with half-empty solo cups. 
Taehyung slips into the apartment, toeing off his shoes before unravelling himself from the endless layers of clothing. He strolls into the living room, but the extra pep in his step doesn’t go unnoticed. 
“What’re you so happy about?” Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, almost accusatory. 
Taehyung’s lips press together as though he’s suppressing a smile, and his cheeks rise like dough, fresh from the oven. But when he plops down on the couch, squeezing himself in the space between you and Jeongguk, there’s a cold presence that causes you to shiver, no doubt from Taehyung’s frigid skin, exposed to the winter chill outside. In an attempt to make himself comfortable, he spreads his legs, bumping his knees against yours. His arms stretch across the back of the sofa, fingers grazing over your shoulder before pulling you and the younger boy into his sides.  
“Went on a date tonight,” Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s an arrogant smirk that tugs on his lips. 
Everyone scooches closer, leaning forward the slightest bit, now intrigued by his words. 
“And…?” Namjoon cocks an eyebrow, expecting more to the story. 
“It was our third date,” Taehyung specifies. 
Although it doesn’t seem like anything grand, Yoongi’s jaw drops, scandalized by the news. Seokjin raises his plastic cup in the air, cheering for his accomplishment, one that’s never been seen or done before. Jeongguk’s gaze flickers to yours, eyes widening to catch your reaction, but you don’t let your features falter.
There are matters in this world that you’ve come to accept as universally true ー Gravity gives weight to objects just like how the moon is responsible for the ocean’s tides, ribosomes are like tiny factories in the same way that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and Taehyung never goes on a second or third date, let alone a first ー But all scientific theories can be proven or rejected. They can be improved or modified. Turns out, Taehyung can commit to someone. It just wasn’t you. 
Through all the yelling and cheering, someone manages to ask “who’s the lucky lady?” 
“Her name’s Aera,” Taehyung responds. 
Going on a third date may not be a sign of a serious relationship, per se, but after hearing Taehyung name-drop her, you’ll have to reconsider. Until now, nobody has ever come close to knowing the names of his old flings. You know all too well that Taehyung is not the type to kiss and tell. However, he’s found enough potential in this relationship to bring up her name in conversation. It’s a big step in the right direction, even for him. 
Tension radiates from your body in near tangible waves, and you wonder if the boys can pick up on it. But they don’t seem to notice, given how invested they are in Taehyung’s breaking news. 
“I’m thinking about bringing her to the white elephant party,” Taehyung announces with the nod of his head. 
The sound of his words finally captures your attention. “White elephant is just between us though.” 
“Says who? It’s not a rule or anything, it’s just tradition,” Taehyung reaffirms. The point seems to go right over his head. 
“Is that what you want to do?” You exasperate with a scoff. “Break tradition?”
Seokjin meddles as usual, “The more the merrier, right? You can bring your boyfriend too if that makes you feel any better.” 
“Boyfriend?” Taehyung questions before you even have the chance to ask. 
“Every time she gets a notification, she tries to hide the smile on her face. It’s kind of weird if you ask me,” Seokjin kids. “She could be sexting her boy toy for all I know.”
On instinct, you almost correct his assumption. Just because you’re smiling at your phone doesn’t mean you have a boyfriend. Maybe there’s a cute puppy on TikTok, or maybe you’re scrolling through Pinterest, looking at photos of Cha Eunwoo. Now that’s something Seokjin should consider. 
“There’s no way,” Taehyung remarks with mirth in his tone. “We all know that she only gets dicked down by her toys.”
Your emotions prove stronger than your rationality, and you let them win once again. “And what good is your dick if you can’t even make a girl come?”
A series of prolonged “ohhhs” and “ahhhs” erupt throughout the room while Jeongguk continues to shove golden kernels into his mouth, amused by your bickering. 
There’s a fire that ignites in your darkened eyes because nothing burns brighter than jealousy. In a voice that is not your own, you say, “You know what, Seokjin? I’ll take you up on that offer. Leave an extra spot open at the party.”
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You have come to accept that you love to make terrible decisions.
Conjuring a fake boyfriend is almost as disastrous as getting a degree that hardly keeps a roof over your head. But what else could you have done? All the boys were patting Taehyung on the shoulder, congratulating him for finally committing to someone. Meanwhile, you had to sit back and watch it all go down while you could physically feel your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. 
After ditching the boys early, you told yourself that you’d be damned if you were to spend the rest of the night at home, wallowing in self-pity. So instead, you choose to do that same exact thing you swore you wouldn’t do, but now with a change of scenery.
Settling into the far end of the tavern, your hand squeezes around an empty shot glass, a plate of untouched curly fries placed in front of you. You massage your temples, preparing for an impending headache. 
You nearly curse yourself for all the brainless things you’ve said and done around Taehyung in the pursuit of self-sabotage. Stumbling into bed with him was your first mistake. Falling in love with him was your second. Attempting to make him jealous was your third. One and two are interchangeable. 
You’re not stupid. Far from it, actually. But love makes you do stupid things. 
That’s exactly how you found yourself at the bar, getting lost in thought as you space out to watch the scene unfold before you. 
There’s a chime that resounds when the entrance is pushed open, signalling a new patron who probably wants to let loose or get over a shitty breakup. The TV mounted above the counter replays an old FIFA match, but the white noise is swallowed by the hustle and bustle of those around you. Glasses clink together as the university students who occupy the corner booth attempt to drink away the pain of finals week. 
You shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of your daydream. A gulp slides down your throat as your eyes wander across the counter. You press your lips together into a tight line, staring at your forgotten sketchbook, sprawled across the tabletop. It lays flat, spine bent, totally bare across the pages. Without a plan in mind, you pick up your pen and glide the felt tip across the recycled paper.
The tavern is dark, and the only light source you have is the sickly sweet cinnamon scented candle at the edge of the counter. The flame flickers back and forth, barely illuminating your visage. Your working conditions are far from ideal, but that doesn’t seem to curb your efforts. 
Art has always been your safe haven. It allows your emotions to come to life as the creativity pours across the pages, one stroke at a time. All the anger, the disappointment, and the heartache flow through the negative space in the form of dark ink and harsh lines. 
A sigh falls from your lips as you scan the page once over, unsatisfied with the results. To be fair, it’s not the drawing, but the subject itself. To nobody’s surprise, the focal point of your sketch is a pair of heart-shaped lips. Subconsciously, you’ve topped it off with a distinctive beauty mark on the tip of the nose. 
“Shit,” you mumble. 
Getting over Taehyung may be harder than you imagined because what could you possibly do when he’s your muse? 
Your hands run through the tresses of your hair when a voice interrupts your train of thought. 
“I don’t mean to criticize your art, but I think my face is a bit smaller than that, sweetheart.” A giggle fills the air, and your ears perk up at the sound of the familiar trill. When your eyes meet his, a smile stretches across your lips. 
“Don’t you think that’s a bit conceited, Park?” Hesitantly, you attach his name to the end of your sentence as if it’s an afterthought. But a thought nevertheless. You haven’t said it in ages, but it still rolls off the tip of your tongue like it used to.
“Hey, you were the one staring at me.” He jokes light-heartedly, quirking his brow. 
“No, I wasn’t,” you roll your eyes, not wanting to inflate his ego. “I spaced out, and I happened to be looking in your direction, okay?” You can’t even finish your sentence without laughing. 
He waves it off with a playful smirk. “Don’t do that to strangers. You might get weird looks.” 
“Nothing I’m not used to,” you shrug. 
Park Jimin is anything but a stranger, although you wouldn’t particularly say that you’re the closest of friends. The two of you grew up in the same neighborhood, although you’ve only regarded one another as classmates. When you were in high school, your paths eventually crossed. The two of you ran in the same social circle, sharing mutual friends including Jeongguk, Namjoon, and even Taehyung. However, by the time college had started, you and Jimin were already drifting apart. While you had packed your life into two suitcases and a U-Haul full of cardboard boxes, moving hundreds of miles away to chase the uncertainties of a dream you no longer wanted, Jimin was left behind to build a life all by himself in a city he’s long since outgrown.
As the story goes, misery loves company. 
You glide across the curve of the bar and scooch over a few stools, accidentally brushing your arm against Jimin’s in the process. He flashes you a smile, and your heart warms at the sight of it. 
“Turn,” you request, although it comes across as a demand.
Jimin has never been one to say no to you, so he does as he’s told, angling his head in your direction. He props his elbow on the laminate counter, resting his chin in the cusp of his hands. 
You flip to the next blank page of your sketchbook, bending the spine before roughly outlining the shape of his face, followed by his soft features. While Jimin lets you have your fun, drawing to your heart’s content, he hums to the faint melody that echoes from the overhead speakers. His eyes are trained on yours, allowing you to use him as reference for your sketch.
When you look up at him for a brief second, comparing your work to the real deal, he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue out, teasing. You roll your eyes, pretending to be immune to his charms, but everyone knows that it’s an impossible task. 
The curve of his cheeks inflate, and the crinkles at the corner of his eyes find temporary residency.
You wish that you had used a pencil instead so that you could capture his expression at this very moment. It’s sweet. Cheery and sincere, even under the lowlight.
Your attention returns to your work, adding more details to the pupil so that it twinkles as bright as it does in real life.
To be honest, he doesn’t look much different than he did a few years ago. More mature, possibly. He’s lost a bit of baby fat around his cheeks, but amongst a crowd of millions, you’d be confident that you could recognize him upon first glance. 
Jimin reaches over you to grab a curly fry. He doesn’t ask for permission, but it’s granted anyway. He dips it into your concoction of sauces before popping the delectable into his mouth. 
“Hot sauce and honey?” He raises his brows, licking the salt off his fingers. 
“Hmm?” You hum without giving it much thought, preoccupied. 
It hits you a moment too late. “Oh, yeah. You ruined fries for me. I don’t eat them any other way now.” You bury your nose into your book to hide the smirk on your face. 
“Ruined? You should thank me,” he says, exasperated. “Do you want to be miserable for the rest of your life? Dipping your fries in ketchup?” His nose scrunches, feigning repulsion. 
The back of your hand suppresses a giggle. 
Beyond the hot sauce and honey, you wouldn’t ever dare to admit that you’ve spared Jimin a second thought throughout the years you’ve spent apart. But truth be told, you have. How could you not? 
On rainy days, you still listen to the mixtape he gave you back in twelfth grade. A late night run to the convenience store is never complete without shrimp chips because that’s always been his go-to (and now yours). His favorite novel still sits on your bookshelf because it’s always a delight, flipping through the dog-eared pages, searching for all his favorite quotes and the parts that have made him scream, laugh, and cry 一 everything highlighted, underlined, and annotated. 
Bits and pieces of Jimin still remain with you, even if he no longer stays. 
“Do you expect me to give you a cookie or something?” 
He shakes his head. No. 
“Praise?” You suggest. 
He tilts his head to the side as if he’s thinking about it. He’s never been one to refuse a compliment or two. 
“Here, how about this?” You ask, sliding your book across the counter. In your completed sketch, you’ve managed to capture his plush lips and round cheeks in contrast to his sharp jawline. His eyes widen, and he’s left speechless by your handiwork.
“How does it look? Is the face small enough now?” You query. 
He taps his finger against his lower lip, contemplative. “I think my forehead is a little big, but I’ll let it pass,” he teases, holding the book up to his face so that they are side-by side. 
“It looks pretty accurate to me?” You jest. 
Jimin shakes his head and unfolds the book from beneath itself, laying the spine flat against the counter. The pages spread open, putting tonight’s artwork on display. Two sets of eyes gaze upward.  
“Are you two together yet?” Jimin’s question catches you off guard.
Your eyes meet his, and you nearly ask him what he means by that. He pointedly tilts his head toward the adjacent drawing, and then you understand. 
The original sketch of Taehyung stares back at you, and a frown makes its way across your lips. You pull the book closer to you before ripping out the page from the coiled spine, crumpling it, and tossing it to the side without any regard. 
“I take that as a no?” He says, sarcastic. 
You don’t ever recall telling Jimin about the age-old crush you’ve had on your best friend, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Besides, stolen glances and unsaid words are enough for him to understand that Taehyung means more to you than just a friend. 
“He’s the reason why I’m drinking tonight,” you sigh, twirling the empty shot glass between your fingers. 
Jimin doesn’t question it. Instead, he offers you exactly what you need. An excuse. A reason. A distraction 一  “Do you want to get out of here?” He queries, signaling towards the exit. “I wanna show you something.” 
Your frown is replaced with the slight curl of your lips as soon as you accept his offer.
Jimin helps you to put on your coat before grabbing your hand and leading you out into the chilly air. He bends down until his lips are hot against the shell of your ear, whispering words that send a shiver down your spine.
“I can help you forget about him.” 
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Chaos has a way of bringing people together when you least expect it.
In the late hours of the night, Jimin takes your hand across town, back to his ballet studio, now closed for business. Technically, he also uses the studio as his living quarters to save some expenses. He’s built a sliding door in the back to separate off his bedroom and kitchen, an area that’s totally off limits to his staff and students.  
Throughout the empty space, soft music reverberates off the wall-to-wall mirrors. While Jimin settles in the corner of the room, criss-crossed, watching you have your fun, you prance around the hardwood floors, spinning on the balls of your feet until your head is in a daze. You twirl in circles, pretending to dance around a makeshift ballroom with an invisible partner wrapped around your arms. It’s almost as if you’re reclaiming your lost youth by looking for an excuse to act like a child. 
“Can you teach me how to dance?” You plead, locking eyes with Jimin. 
His features grow soft upon hearing your voice, so who is he to deny? He shows you a few simple stretches so that you’re warmed up. It’s nothing complicated, only some toe touches and lunges to improve your flexibility. 
“We can do some basics? I’ll show you how to do a plié,” he suggests. “This is the first position.” 
You nod your head, enthusiastic about the idea (in theory), but your eyes widen, and your jaw drops after seeing Jimin contort his body in a way you never thought was conceivable. His thighs press together as his heels sit back to back, pointing in opposite directions, laying 180°.
“You’re kidding.” Your eyebrows furrow, concerned about the possibility of a leg cramp and pure embarrassment. “These are the basics?” 
“C’mon, just try it,” he insists. “You’ll get the hang of it.” 
You grumble as you attempt to get into position, but it’s nearly impossible. To no avail, you shuffle your feet one inch at a time, getting closer and closer, but never perfect. As you nearly reach your goal, you begin to lose balance, accidentally shifting all your weight onto your heels. On instinct, you reach forward to hold steady, and you latch onto Jimin’s shoulder. 
His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest.
Your breath shudders, and your body tenses as your eyes squeeze shut, head resting against the crook of his neck. 
“Sorry,” you mutter, nearly pulling away. 
“Careful,” Jimin warns, gentle and unmoving. “I’ve got you.” His hands squeeze at your hips, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of your close proximity.
Your eyes bore into his before shifting your gaze to his plush lips, right where his teeth sink into the pink flesh. 
You lean forward so that your mouth hovers over his. Your hot breaths mingle together before you realize what you’re about to do. But at that moment, it doesn’t matter because Jimin is here, and he wants you. That’s everything that Taehyung is not. 
You slot your lips between his, testing the waters with a quick peck. Then another. And another. His tongue traces over yours, dancing in tune with the melody of the music. 
Jimin pulls away, but only momentarily. “Do you really want to do this?” He asks, gasping. 
“You said you’d help me forget,” your breath fans across his cheeks. Desire pulses through your veins, and in response, you press your lips against his, deeper and more passionate than before. He tastes like whiskey, vanilla, and nostalgia all at once. 
Your fingers slip under the hem of his sweater, tracing patterns into his hips. You tug on the knitted material, and he finally takes the hint. The two of you fumble as you peel off one another’s clothes, tossing them haphazardly across the room, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. 
He leans down to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you off the ground. Your legs wrap around his waist, and he carries you past the sliding doors and into his makeshift bedroom, placing you gently on top of the nightstand before fumbling for a condom. 
Between tender touches, you and Jimin share sweet giggles and soft gazes. His breath ghosts over your skin, nipping and kissing wherever his lips can reach. He latches onto your neck, sucking until he marks your skin with his name. 
He gently traces the outline of your bra, causing goosebumps to rise against your skin. His hands roam across your body, brushing past the mound of your breast before giving them a firm squeeze. Your breath hitches, and your lips part open. Jimin swirls his tongue around yours, rolling them over each other. 
He reaches for your legs once again, picking you up and guiding you toward the edge of the room. Suddenly, your back is pressed against the mirror. The reflective surface is unforgiving against your sensitive skin. 
His fingers wander across the waistband of your panties, eliciting a low hum from your lips. 
“Don’t tease,” you whine. 
“You don’t like my teasing, sweetheart? Then why are you moaning?” He queries with a smirk spread across his features. 
“Relax for me. I’ll take care of you.” His lips latch onto the side of your neck where your heart beats beneath the surface. He urges you to turn around and face the mirror before his hand finds its way against your panty-clad core. He teases your entrance through the material, skimming between your folds and rubbing soft circles against your clit. Arousal pools into the pit of your stomach, and a trail of fire prickles against your skin. 
His other hand is preoccupied with your breasts, tugging on the material of your bra until it bunches at your waist. He rolls your pert nipple between the rough pads of his fingers. You loll your head back against his shoulder as if you’re putty in his hands. His hard-on weighs heavy against your ass as he grinds against your backside. 
There’s a soft tap against your lips, and you open upon command without realizing how much of your saliva has accumulated in your mouth. Drool seeps from the corner of your lips as you swirl your tongue against his digits. 
He glides his hand down your body once again, exploring every inch before dipping into your underwear. 
“I haven’t touched you properly, but you’re soaked,” he mutters against the shell of your ear. 
You can’t help but groan in response, reaching to grab his wrists to help anchor you. 
He collects your arousal, swirling his finger against your entrance before stretching you out, plunging into your heat. 
Your arousal begins to seep down your thighs as you contract against his finger. He adds another one, filling you up until you’re begging for more. You grow more and more desperate as he pumps into you, slowly and teasingly. You grow restless from his punishing pace, and a soft sigh escapes from your parted lips. 
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says. “Use your words for me.” His lips press against your cheek, and you’re taken aback by how soft he is. 
“I- I,” you lose your train of thought as he begins to rub figure eights onto your clit. 
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, almost as if he demands a response. “Want to watch yourself get ruined, sweetheart? Want to see how full you can get off my cock? You’ve never been this shy before.” A smirk spreads across his lips, fully knowing the power he holds in the palm of his hands. “Is something wrong? I want you to use your words.” 
You mewl, nodding your head with vigor. You grind your ass against his clothed crotch, begging for more friction, begging to be fucked stupid and full of cum. “Holy shit, give it to me,” you beg in desperation. “Please, I want you to fuck me,” you beg with tears in your eyes. 
He slides his boxers past his erect cock, pumping it in his hand before sliding your panties to the side. He glides the condom on and rubs the engorged tip of his dick against your slick folds. He presses into your entrance one inch at a time, and you moan in response. Your walls are stretched out by his sheer girth snug between your pussy. 
  “Look at how well your pretty, little cunt takes me, sweetheart.” His voice is thick with desire as his breath fans against the shell of your ear. He takes your chin into his hand, guiding your head so that you’re looking straight into the mirror. He squeezes at your cheeks so that you have no choice but to look at the way he ruins you. 
You clench around him at the sound of his lewd words. Through the mirror, you can see his eyes darken with lust. Your gaze trails down to the ripple of his muscles. His body is perfectly toned, and you can’t seem to take your eyes off his thick thighs. 
But your heavy lidded eyes threaten to close, overwhelmed by the drag and pull of his length against your walls. Jimin’s hand wraps around the column of your neck, causing you to look in the mirror once again. His grasp is firm, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “Don’t you want to see how pretty you look? How perfect you are with my cock inside of you?” 
He thrusts into you at a calculated pace, rutting into your throbbing cunt, totally engulfed in your sopping wet heat. It’s hard to keep your attention trained on the mirror as he splits you open, railing you from behind. Your mouth hangs loose as he rubs tight circles against your bud. 
“Be a good girl, and come for me, okay, sweetheart?” He hums against your cheek. 
The sensation is overwhelming as you’re surrounded by his scent and his touch. He latches his lips onto your jaw, marking your skin. Jimin doesn’t leave a single inch untouched. 
He rolls his hips against yours faster and harder, adding more to your torment. You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach grow tighter. Your breathing grows more shallow, and Jimin observes you through the mirror. He watches your facial features twist as you get lost in pleasure. 
He can sense you nearing your high as your tight cunt pulses against him, squeezing around his cock, swallowing him deeper and deeper. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the harsh slap of his balls against the back of your thighs. 
“I’m gonna come,” you warn him with tears streaming down the sides of your cheeks. 
His pace grows relentless as he snaps his hips against yours, nestling deeper between your walls, fucked raw and dirty.
The coil unravels from the pit of your stomach as waves of pleasure course through your veins. A string of stuttered curses fall from your lips, totally consumed by your pleasure, “fuck, fuck fuck.” Your vision nearly fades to black as you convulse around his length, jerking in his grasp. But Jimin wraps his arm around your torso, fucking you through your orgasm as you milk him for all his worth. 
His thrusts slow down, and his hips stutter as he reaches his high, spurting ropes of cum into the condom. You can feel his cock throb between the walls of your cunt, pulsing to the rhythm of the music in the background. 
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Famous last words: “This is a one time thing.” 
You would have thought that after tonight, you’d part ways and pretend as if nothing had ever happened. Yet you didn’t think you would grow this attached after spending one night with Jimin.
Once you clean up in the shower room, you find that there’s a fresh set of clothes on the counter and a festive red mug filled with earl gray tea, calling your name on the nightstand. Jimin is waiting for you on his half of the bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. When you return, he sets it aside and lifts up the sheets, inviting you into his embrace for the night.
You curl up into his side, tucking your head beneath his chin. Your body is stiff until he wraps his arm tighter around your waist. Melting into his touch is a feeling so familiar that you welcome it for reasons you know you shouldn’t. Tonight, the bed is warm, and that’s all you could ever ask for.
Jimin is the first one to break the silence. “It’s nice to see you still make art, by the way,” he says against the crown of your head, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Actually… After freshmen year, I changed my major to illustration.” 
Jimin’s eyes soften into half-moon shapes, proud to hear about the milestones you’ve reached in the years you’ve spent apart. 
“Now, I spend my days teaching third graders how to make hand turkeys and snowflakes,” you chuckle, although it’s a little flat.
Jimin tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “It doesn’t seem as if you like it,” he reads right through you. 
“Mmm, it’s not ideal, but it’s stable,” you shrug with a fond smile on your lips. “I thought that everything would fall into place because I followed my dreams, right? But it gets so messy when you mix your passion with your career. And now, I’m stuck in this weird limbo of not knowing what to do with myself,” you sigh. “But don’t get me wrong, the kids are sweet, and it’s nice to feel needed.” 
The weight of your words don’t catch up to you, but Jimin nods his head in understanding, letting you continue your train of thought. 
“It doesn’t really compare to pre-med, ya know? I could have been doing ground-breaking research or finding the secret recipe to incurable diseases.” A weak laugh erupts from your lungs. “But I hated it. Every week, I was this close to burning down the whole lab.” Your index finger hovers over your thumb with the tiniest sliver of space in between, demonstrating how close you would have been to losing your sense of judgment. Your eyes roll as you reminisce on the ghost of your past. “My advice? Stay away from science. It’s dangerous.” 
Jimin notices that you talk a lot. Maybe more than the average person, but he likes that. Your personality fills the space, and you two converse as if no time has passed between the two of you. 
The ends of Jimin’s lips curl into a smile, endeared by the pout on your face, “Ah, note taken.”
“You must really like running the studio though,” you suggest. “That’s what you’ve always wanted to do, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sort of,” his shoulders raise. The dejection is palpable, and you can sense his hesitation.
In the dim room, you look up at his soft features, illuminated by the faint moonlight casted through the windowpanes. “But…?”
A smile stretches across his lips, and his eyelids lower into slits.
“But... I wanna be on a big stage, and I wanna perform, ya know? I wanna dance at sold out theaters with marquees that plaster my name across the world,” he fantasizes. “I feel like there’s so much more out there for me if I branched out and made a name for myself. I don’t want to teach kindergartners how to do plies and pirouettes for the rest of my life.” A sigh escapes from his parted lips. “Maybe after a few years, I could return to teaching, but right now, I feel like I’m stuck.”
You understand his need to escape from this city, because you, too, feel trapped beneath the weight of all your terrible decisions. In the end, the road leads back to where it all began. The two of you are side-by-side, living the same routine, day and night, without having found your place in this world.
Yet Jimin’s confession still leaves you confused. You’ve never quite taken his perspective into account, although you’d be lying if you said his face didn’t cross your mind a handful of times over the last few years. Because in this little corner of the universe, in a town so small that you can’t even find it on a map, everyone and their mothers know Park Jimin. You’re stuck in your own head, and sometimes you forget that there are people out there who aren’t fortunate enough to know him like you do. So maybe, just maybe, you’re one of the lucky ones. 
“I’m gone for a few years, and now that I’m back, you’re telling me you’ve lost all your courage? Is this the same Jimin I know?” You poke your finger against his cheek, double checking, and he sneers at your antics. “Literally anyone can see how talented you are. They’d be stupid to think otherwise. If you busked in the streets of Seoul, they’d scout you on the spot.” 
A smile etches itself across his features, comforted by the words of an old friend. A part of him knows that you’re right, and you are. 
“I better get an autograph backstage at Carnegie Hall, okay?” You raise a fist, extending your pinky for him to lace. “Promise?” 
He doesn’t even have to spare you another glance before he interlocks his pinky with yours, sealing a promise that he’s sure to keep. 
“Don’t forget me when you’re famous, Park.” The sound of his name is like music to your ears, even if the world of dance doesn’t know it yet. To you, he’ll always be admired and respected as though he’s in the limelight because that’s the Park Jimin you’ve come to know. He’s suave, charming, and gracious as ever with eyes that pull like the tide. It’d be a shame for the world not to know his name. 
Of course you would never forget because Jimin leaves a whole new impression on you with every encounter. Just like old times, there’s never a beat of silence when he’s at your side. It feels as though you’re in your own world as the hours tick by faster than you realize. 
Throughout this sleepless night, he tells you about his tattoos and the meanings behind them 一 his favorite being the black ink on his ribs, ‘nevermind’ spelled out in capital letters. You’ve also come to learn about the scar above his right eye, although you’ve never quite noticed it after all these years. “I ran straight into the toilet when I was little, and I bumped my head,” he explains, “Stop laughing, it’s not funny!” Although he can’t seem to hold back his own giggle. 
He shares nearly-forgotten memories of his early childhood back in Busan, reminiscing about his walks along the seaside after kendo practice. He misses the stories his mother would tell him at the kitchen table as she laid out all of her ingredients for kimbap, made with love. He can’t forget about his grandmother’s old home, a pretty pink house on the top of a hill 一 the same one where he would play hide and seek with his younger brother. 
Of course you can’t spend the night without bringing up anecdotes from high school. 
“Do you remember when we kissed in 10th grade?” You remind him, chuckling at the memory. 
Jimin’s eyes fill with fondness, lowering into crescent moons. “We were playing spin the bottle, weren’t we?” 
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you giggle in apology. “It probably wasn’t that good.” 
He tilts his head, uncertain. “I think 15 year-old me was on top of the world after that.” 
You hide your face against Jimin’s chest in embarrassment, muffling your voice. “Yeahbutyouweremyfirstkiss.” The words escape your mouth at lightning speed, but he catches every syllable. 
His cheeks are dusted with crimson hues, blushing at the confession. “Really?” His hand is feather light against your shoulder. “I guess that makes the two of us. You were mine too.” His heart nearly thumps out of his ribcage. 
“Can I ask you something?” You pull away from his chest with wide eyes. 
“You just did.” His lips tug into a teasing smile. 
You roll your eyes and refrain from punching his arm. “Did you ever see us being together?” There’s a brief moment of silence before you clarify again. “You know… romantically?” 
Jimin shakes his head no. If you had asked whether he ever wanted the two of you to be together, that would elicit a totally different response. 
“No, you were always hung up on Taehyung, right?” He says, half disappointed, half hopeful in anticipation of your response. 
Your eyebrows knit into a frown, and your lips quiver into a scowl. “Yeah, some things don’t really change.” 
His features soften, listening to your every word which makes his pouty lips even more defined, even through the dark. 
“Sorry, I don’t mean to dump all of my problems on you,” you apologize. Truly, it doesn’t seem fair that Jimin has been nothing but attentive to you. But in his mind, he’s the true friend he’s always been. 
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He rubs soothing circles into the small of your back, just like how Taehyung used to. “Is something wrong?” 
Clicking your tongue, you stall for time, hesitating. “Well... You know how I’m an absolute idiot, right?” 
“Right,” Jimin nods with sarcasm. His tongue peeks out from the corner of his lips. 
“Basically, I told all of my friends that I have a boyfriend even though I’m painfully in love with Taehyung.”
“Sounds rough.” 
You shake your head, heaving a sigh. “That’s not the worst part.” 
“Oh, God, what did you do now?” He asks, expecting. 
“Taehyung’s bringing his new girlfriend to our party on Christmas Eve... and I told everyone that they can expect my boyfriend to be there too.” 
You pinch the bridge of your nose, and your shoulders slump. “Do you see my dilemma now?” 
“Hmm,” he hums. The room is silent, save for the hum of the radiator. 
“What if I told you I have a solution?” And by that, he means a temporary fix. 
“I’m listening,” you murmur. The lack of sleep is finally hitting you at the break of dawn.
An ear to ear smile stretches across his face, and you know for sure that he’s up to no good. “May I, Park Jimin,” he dramatically presses his hand flat against his chest as if he’s making a pledge, “Have the honor of being your fake boyfriend on the eve of Christmas?” 
You shrug, deciding to entertain him, “It’s your honor now, is it? So what’s in it for me?”
“Uhmm…” His gaze shifts to the corner of the room, eyeing something completely trivial. When he figures it out, he snaps his fingers together. “I’m glad that you asked.” A smile graces his lips as he shows off his pearly whites. 
“Oh no,” you groan, fully expecting the worst. You roll onto your stomach, stuffing your face into the pillow. 
Jimin’s voice rings through the air, sounding his request. “You’ll have the pleasure of seeing my kindergarten class put on a showcase for the Nutcracker.” 
You lift your head up, and stray hairs obstruct your vision, falling loose into your eyes. Looking over at Jimin, you quirk a brow, soundlessly asking him why? 
“I need to bring a date,” He begins, scratching at his eyebrow. “My staff keeps trying to set me up on these blind dates, but they don’t end up anywhere, and I’m kind of sick of it.” 
“Mmm, nobody worthwhile so far?” You inquire. 
“I guess I’m waiting for the right person to come around,” he shrugs. “They put me on so many dating apps, but it’s not for me.” 
Your face breaks out into a smile. “Really? Tinder? Bumble? Hinge? I want to see your profile!” Although you only want to see it to poke fun at him.
“No, no, no, it’s pretty bad,” he confesses with wide eyes. 
“Oh, please. I doubt someone like you would have trouble finding a partner.” 
“Not one that’s worthwhile.” His soft gaze lowers to meet yours, but you don’t seem to notice. 
You huff out a sigh, and your heavy lidded eyes threaten to close, succumbing to exhaustion. Going to the showcase is a small price to pay for the wake of chaos you’ve brought upon yourself. At least you have a solution to your boyfriend problem, right? 
Your hand extends over to Jimin, and he gladly takes it in his own, shaking it in agreement. 
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Park.” 
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You [4:27 pm]: you busy?
Jimin [4:32 pm]: no, just ended a class, why? 
You [4:32 pm]: can you help me? idk what to get for white elephant
You [4:32 pm]: meet me at the mall? 
Jimin [4:33 pm]: okay, i’ll be there in 15 min
He gets there in ten.
It’s easy to spot Jimin’s disapproving look from a mile away. “You do realize that Christmas is this Saturday, right? Don’t you have an Amazon account?” 
“I’m not handing over my hard-earned money to capitalism,” you bark. 
He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry I brought it up.”
The two of you stroll past the rows of stores with items that are far too expensive for your budget. You turn down every suggestion thrown your way.
“How about a scarf?” Jimin offers. 
You shake your head. “I already know someone is going to buy that, and that someone is probably Namjoon.” 
He snickers knowing that it’s true. “Okay, then what about a candle?” 
Your lips pucker, clearly not thrilled about the idea. “Taehyung is the only person who would want a candle, but if it isn’t expensive, then forget about it.” 
“A mug?” 
You stare at him, deadpan. “It’s gonna look like I didn’t put a single thought into this gift.”
“Hey, they’re your friends! You should know what to get them.” 
You massage at your temples, pacifying the meltdown that you’re about to have in the middle of the mall. And if the creepy old man dressed in the tattered Santa suit approaches you to ease the tears, you can’t promise that you won’t get kicked out of the shopping center for accounts of hysteria. 
Shopping has never been your forte, let alone holiday shopping. Jimin deserves a prize for his patience because he’s handling your indecision fairly well. 
“Aren’t you an artist?” Jimin proposes. 
You nearly deny the fact out of habit, so instead, you just shrug. 
“You could always make something.” He holds his breath thinking that you’ll shoot him down once again. 
You card your fingers through your hair, contemplative. “Nothing I make is going to be worth a penny.” 
“That’s not true,” he looks at you with knitted brows, a stern expression painted on his face. “It’s the thought that counts.” 
The longer that you sit on the idea, the more people begin to swarm you in the middle of a crowded mall. “Yeah, I guess I can make something. To be honest, I just want to get out of here,” you remark. 
“Yeah, I try to avoid the mall like the plague,” he adds. “It’s stressful.”
“Oh, you’re telling me?” You press your pointer finger against your chest for further emphasis. “Not just that, but I’m afraid Jeongguk is going to pop out of nowhere, and I’d have to explain that you’re my boyfriend when we haven’t even figured out the story yet,” your tongue clicks. “He works at the arcade over there.” You jut your chin towards the bright neon sign a few stores down. 
“Would I be that terrible of a boyfriend that you’d be embarrassed?” He asks with pleading eyes, although you know he’s only begging for praise. 
“No, but Guk knows the both of us. He’s gonna see right through our lies with those big eyes of his.” You slump your shoulders when a cold breeze blows through your hair, a shiver wracking through your whole body. 
“Hold my hand,” Jimin requests, catching you off guard.
“Why? There’s nobody around,” you crane your neck, looking left and right in search of a familiar face. 
He interlocks his fingers with yours. “It’s cold though, I don’t want your hand to freeze.”
“Cold? Then maybe you should zip up,” you reprimand him, halting to fix the buttons of his shirt. 
Why does he have so many of them undone to begin with? His jacket is absolutely useless if he doesn’t bother bundling up. He’s going to catch a cold if he leaves his chest exposed any longer. 
You mutter under your breath, shaking your head, “Why are you dressed so sexy? You’re gonna get sick.”
“You like it? It’s for you,” he replies with soft eyes, but the smirk on his lips is teasing. 
You look up at him, only to scoff at his cheesy response, poking your tongue against the inside of your cheek. After straightening his collar, your finger slips beneath the silver chain around his neck, pulling out the pendant so that it is no longer concealed beneath the white cotton of his shirt. 
He’s finally warm and toasty after zipping up his outerwear in one swift motion. “Don’t catch a cold,” you huff a sigh, turning around to trudge forward. 
Jimin smiles to himself and lowers the zipper once again to undo the top two buttons, fully knowing that you’ll fix it for him with a cute pout on your lips. 
He half-walks, half-runs to catch up to you. Without any defiance, he takes your hand in his before stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket. 
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You don’t know how Jimin managed to convince you to make your own gift for white elephant, but he did. 
After your failed visit to the mall, you and Jimin head back to your tiny apartment halfway across town. He figured that you would create a painting or some kind of sketch, but he never imagined that you would do something as extravagant as pottery. 
“So… we’re still going to make a mug, right?” He suggests, half kidding. 
“If you really want to make one, you can,” you offer as you set up all of the supplies including a pottery wheel, buckets of water, bamboo brushes, needles, and cutter wire. “I think I want to make dishware though, maybe a bowl.” 
Jimin situates himself across from you as you immerse yourself in your work. You roll up your sleeves before chopping up the clay and using a variety of tools to get you started. He watches the terracotta block mold to the delicate curl of your hands. You press against the sides so that it’s rounded, and you push at the center until there’s a crater. Pulling at the rim, you skilfully tug on the clay until it reaches the height that you desire. 
The ringer of your phone sets off, but you choose to ignore it, preoccupied by the task at hand. It doesn’t take very long for you to finish molding your bowl since you’ve made an abundance of ceramics in your lifetime. 
And right before Jimin’s very eyes, it transforms into a perfectly imperfect vessel. 
You set the product aside so that you can heat it up and glaze it for later. Until then, you can draft a design that would later be painted on the surface of the clay. 
“Do you want to try?” It doesn’t hurt to ask. Afterall, Jimin had attempted to show you how to dance. Now it’s your turn for vengeance and a hearty laugh. 
He looks at you with wide, puppy eyes as he nods his head.
You hop off of your stool, allowing Jimin to take your place. Meanwhile, you prep the proper amount of clay that’s needed for the mug he can’t stop talking about. 
“Are we going to have that cheesy movie moment from Ghost where we make pottery and hold hands?” He bounces from his seat as you prop another stool behind him. 
Teasingly, you wrap your arm around his torso before blowing hot air against the shell of his ear. 
He wiggles in your grasp, pressing his hand against the side of his head. 
“Come here, you big baby,” you tug on his arm so that his hands cup around the clay.
The blush on Jimin’s cheeks go unnoticed, affected by either your choice of words or your close proximity, he may never know. 
Your hand gently rests over his as you guide him through the molding process. The mug is far from perfect, but Jimin likes it that way. He doesn’t bother smoothing out the sides or centering the handle. He thinks the battered shape gives it personality. “It’s a little wonky, just like you,” he claims.
From an outside perspective, anyone could see the two of you and find this moment to be sweet and romantic. Some may say that the moment bursts like a bubble the second you’re interrupted. 
Well, cue the interruption as you hear an awfully loud giggle from the hallway. Soon enough, the sound of keys turns the locks of your apartment door. 
“I don’t mean to scare you, but I think there’s a robber out there.” Jimin’s body tenses beneath your grasp. 
The infamous giggle sounds once again, and you don’t seem to be bothered. “It’s not an intruder,” you shake your head. “Just a really annoying friend.” 
Hardly a second goes by before Kim Seokjin is walking through your door, calling out your name. “YAH! You know you’re missing movie night, right?” His mouth moves faster than his body. Because when Seokjin sticks his head into your living room, he realizes that you have company. 
“Oh, sorry,” he apologizes, although you know he’s anything but sorry. “Didn’t know you were busy with your boyfriend.” Seokjin winks a little too overdramatically. 
Jimin rises from his seat, wiping the excess clay from his hands and onto his apron. He approaches Seokjin by the foyer and extends his arm in greeting. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jimin.” 
Seokjin looks at the residue left on Jimin’s hand and decides to grab his wrist, shaking it in up and down motions. “Seokjin.” His lips tug into a crooked smile, almost as if he’s plotting something. Of course, it’s expected. “Would you and Jimin like to come to movie night together?” 
You nearly shove Seokjin out the door, wanting him to leave as quickly as possible. “Can’t make it tonight. We’re gonna bake cookies.” 
“Cookies? Any for me?” Seokjin requests, though he doesn’t really care for sweets. He just wants to stay longer so that he can get a better look at your quote unquote boyfriend.
“I’ll bring them over another time, I swear. Now get out,” you usher him out the door, muttering through gritted teeth. “I'll see you at the party, okay?” 
“Bye!” Seokjin yells, even with the door closed shut behind him. “Don’t forget the condom!”
“So…” You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment. “That was Seokjin. I have to apologize for his entire existence.” 
“For what it’s worth, I think he has pretty good advice,” Jimin laughs. 
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“We should probably figure out the details of our fake relationship, right?” You suggest as you measure out your dry ingredients for cookies. “When did we meet?” 
“I don’t think we have to go that far back? We met when we were kids,” Jimin says, mixing the concoction of ingredients together with a pink spatula in hand. “Can’t we tell everyone that we bumped into one another at a bar a few weeks ago, hit it off, fucked, and then started dating?” 
“That doesn’t sound very romantic,” you sneer. 
“It isn’t, but that’s basically what happened.” 
“Minus the dating part,” you add. 
“Yeah…” Jimin mutters under his breath. “Minus the dating part.”
“Do you think we could pass as a couple?” You question. “Oh, pass me the vanilla extract.”
Jimin grabs the amber bottle before making his way around the kitchen island. “I think they’ll believe it if we show off a little pda, right?” He slots himself behind you, pressing his chest against your back, gently resting his hands on the small of your waist. “Is it okay if I touch you here?”
Your body heats up when his hot breath tickles against your cheek. “Uh, y-yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” you stutter, nodding your head. 
“This is just for practice, right, sweetheart?” he coos, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Gotta make it believable.” He latches his plush lips against the column of your neck, peppering soft kisses up and down your jaw. 
Your breath hitches in your throat as you melt into his touch. “Mmm,” you let out a moan, dropping the wooden spoon onto the kitchen counter. 
You rest your hands over his before plucking them off your waist. Park Jimin is insatiable, but you’re certain that you’re craving something else tonight. 
“As much as I want to do this right now, save it for the public, Park. I want my cookies.”
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While your studio fills itself with the sweet aroma of fresh baked cookies, you and Jimin plop yourself onto your mattress, wedged into the corner of your studio apartment. His phone rests in your hands as you critique his dating profile, as promised.
“This is terrible,” you click your tongue. 
“What’s wrong with it?” He lurches for the device, but you roll over onto your side, keeping it away from his reach. 
“Your bio says ‘send dog pics’. Really, now?” You glare at him with a blank expression. “I’d hate to break it to you, but loving dogs is not a personality trait.” 
“Oh,” he slumps. “I thought it was a hit with the ladies, no?” 
“Only because you’re cute.” You don’t bother looking up at his reaction as you continue to scroll through his phone, scrutinizing his profile. His round cheeks grow heated. A soft hue of pink dusts over his skin. 
“Are you going to help me change my bio then?” He asks. 
Your nose scrunches in distaste. “No, you’re supposed to be my boyfriend, aren’t you? I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.”
Jimin’s cheeks numb with the smile that stretches across his lips.
“No offense, but this photo makes you look like a fuckboy.” You flash the screen to him as you giggle to yourself. 
“Hoseok said it’s a nice picture.” He grumbles to himself, feigning a pout, but it doesn’t last long. He only knows that you’re teasing. 
When you aren't looking, Jimin steals your phone for a brief moment. If you’re able to use his, why can’t he use yours? He opens the camera app, taking far too many selfies, more than an average person should. He looks cute in some photos, but in others, he purposely recreates the “fuckboy” look you described earlier. He decides to set it as his contact photo, so you’ll have no choice but to laugh whenever his name pops up in your notifications. When he opens the phone app, he scoffs, slightly offended that his name is set as “Jimin.” Nothing more and nothing less. He decides to change it to one that’s more suitable, although cringey 一 Babe 😘
Without noticing, he takes a selfie of the two of you. It’s a candid, but he decides to set it as your lock screen so that you’ll have a happy surprise. 
Meanwhile, you continue to throw an occasional comment about his profile, but he’s long since stopped listening. He hasn’t opened the app in months anyways. 
To keep himself occupied, his gaze wanders around your bedroom, although he can’t seem to help it. There are an abundance of trinkets that catch his attention, but only because he’s curious. 
Above the desk, there’s an oversized poster of the Starry Night, thumb tacked to the wall. A mason jar of sour candy lies on your nightstand, no doubt for the occasional midnight cravings. Your favorite kpop album lies on the top of your bookshelf, although there’s no sight of a CD player anywhere.
A pile of canvasses sit in the corner, leaning against the wall. He hops off the bed, flicking through the pile to admire your talent. There’s a soft tug on his lips as he recognizes a few antique pieces you’ve made back in high school art class. A gentle “oh” falls from his lips whenever he connects the dots, spotting a painting that he has already seen on your Instagram. 
He hovers over your shelf where he notices there’s a photograph of you at your college graduation. There’s a beaming smile on your face with crinkles that form at the corner of your eyes. Truly, it’s infectious because the same smile is plastered on Jimin’s lips, happy to see you at your highest points, even if he had not been there. 
Although it may seem nosy, Jimin moves on to the next trinket that catches his eyes. He tilts his head to the side, staring at the faded orange spine on the third shelf from the bottom. “Is that mine?” He plucks the paperback into his hands, examining the front cover. 
You look up from his phone, and your face stiffens in response. “Uh, you lent that to me.”
“Yeah, keyword: lent.” He can’t suppress the smile on his face as he thumbs through the pages of a novel he thought he had lost many years ago. 
“Do you want it back?” You ask, hoping that the answer is no. 
He shakes his head, putting it back into its rightful place on the bookshelf. “No, you can keep it.” 
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You card your fingers through your hair, stressed about the night that is to come. You’ve spent the last few days with Jimin, perfecting the details of your relationship so that you can get through your first mission 一 making it believable for his staff members so they can stop setting Jimin on unsuccessful blind dates. 
He swears that you don’t have to do much besides show up and pretend that you like him. Apparently, as far as the hip-hop teacher, Hoseok, is concerned, you don’t even exist. Your only job for tonight is to prove to him otherwise. 
Tonight, you scour through your entire closet in search of an outfit. You must have tried on at least four different ones at this point, texting Jimin a selfie in the mirror after every outfit change. You don’t know why you’re trying so hard to make a good first impression when you’re never going to see them again. 
Jimin’s reaction to your texts never feels sincere because he keeps complimenting you, attaching multiple heart emojis after every message. But what can you expect from a man? 
You’re startled by the ringing of your doorbell which signifies Jimin’s arrival. “I’ll be right there!” You shout, quickly applying the finishing touches to your makeup. 
After chucking your essentials into your purse, you slip on your heeled boots and grab a warm jacket before quickly opening the front door. 
“I’m so sorry, I swear I’m ready now,” you sputter. 
Jimin stands in your entryway, dressed to the nines with his slicked-back hair and his flowy, white shirt. His eyes widen, and his mouth hangs agape at how stunning you are in an outfit he has yet to see. 
“Why didn’t you send me a picture of this one? I could have prepared myself,” he says in disbelief. 
A smile graces your lips before you shut the door behind you and grab his hand. “Come on, we’re gonna be late!” 
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Jimin doesn’t let go of your hand, even throughout the entire car ride. With fingers interlaced, he two of you walk into the local elementary school where you work. 
Unexpectedly, you bump into your co-workers on the way in. A few of the older ladies from the main office exclaim: 
“I didn’t know that you had a boyfriend! When can we expect a wedding?” 
“Oh my God, look at these sweet lovebirds!” 
“What does it feel like to be young and in love?”
To which Jimin would wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer into his side. He almost stops to have a conversation with them, but you have to cut it short fully knowing that they could talk for hours. “I’m so sorry, but we’re actually on our way to the showcase in the auditorium.” You nod your head with a polite smile before tugging on Jimin’s arm. 
They ladies wish you and Jimin a good night before heading out to gossip to the rest of the town. That, you are sure of. 
Jimin leads the way into the busy auditorium. He escorts you to the front row where there are seats reserved especially for him and the rest of the staff. From afar, you notice that there’s a man waving wildly in your direction. There’s a smile on his face, glowing brighter than the sun itself. 
“That’s Hoseok over there,” Jimin whispers against your ear. “Are you ready?” 
You nod your head, squeezing his hand tighter before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 
He’s taken aback by your public display of affection, and he blushes on contact. His lips press together as he tries to hide the glee on his face. 
You walk down the aisle together to approach your seats. Before you can make it there, Hoseok is already running up to the two of you. 
“Is this the girlfriend I’ve heard so much about?” Hoseok half-yells, extending his hand out to shake yours. 
You gladly accept with a gleam on your face. “Oh, so Jimin talks about me a lot, does he?” You query. 
Of course Hoseok has never been one to tell a lie. “Well, to be honest, when he said that he found a girlfriend, I almost thought that you weren’t real!” He exclaims. “But in the last week, he started bringing you up more and more. I thought ‘okay, I have to meet her now.’” He nods, enthusiastic. 
Has he really mentioned you to his coworkers? Was this part of the plan to get them to stop arranging all of these blind dates? 
“Ah, I guess Jimin must have been a little embarrassed to talk about me. We’ve known each other for ages, but I’ve never given him the chance until recently.” You pat your hand against his bicep, almost in consolation. 
“Oh yeah. I’m glad that you found your way back to one another. It takes a lot of courage to confess to your high school crush, ya know?” Hoseok says, not knowing that he has just opened Pandora’s Box. “You two look very happy together.”
Your eyes widen at the news, and Hoseok continues to talk incessantly like a chatterbox. But you’re hardly listening to what he has to say. You throw in the occasional “yeah” and “yup” so it seems as if you’re paying attention. Instead, you glance over at Jimin with endless questions reeling through your head.  
Before you can ask about Jimin’s little secret, the light of the auditorium dims and fades to black. The MC heads onto stage with a spotlight shining on his figure, and he asks that everyone take their seat. 
You refrain from asking Jimin any questions throughout the showcase because that would have been terribly rude, but the curiosity is killing you. 
All along, Jimin has known that you’ve been in love with Taehyung. But at the same time, he’s had feelings for you? Granted, you were young and stupid back in high school. How deeply did he feel about you? Did his feelings change over the last few years? What did your one night stand mean to him?
Your head is clouded with questions, and you swear that Jimin can sense the tension radiating from your body. His thumb rubs soothing circles into the top of your hand, and your attention gets drawn away from the overwhelming questions. 
Instead, you choose to focus on the performance in front of you. The kids are prancing around stage in their pretty white tutus and leotards. Of course, being as young as they are, their performance isn’t anywhere near perfect. That doesn’t mean all the adults in the room won’t make them feel as if they are the biggest stars on stage. Even as they stumble across the floors and dance off-beat to the music, they will continue to receive the praise that they deserve. 
At the end of the performance, all of the dancers line up on stage so that they can bow to the audience. The crowd erupts into a standing ovation, and the beaming smile on their little faces don’t go unnoticed. 
When the stage clears, the auditorium empties out so that the parents can collect their children at the exit. Meanwhile, Jimin heads backstage to say a big congratulations to all of his lovely students. He wants to offer everyone a high-five and a pat on the back, but the children seem to have other plans. 
Once they notice your presence, they begin to swarm around you, jumping up and down. Their yells echo across the barren room. 
“Hi, are you Mr. Jimin’s wife?” A young girl tugs on the hem of your dress, with pleading eyes, begging for an answer. 
Weirdly enough, all of the other kids lower their voices as they wait for your response. They stare at you with intense eyes, and you begin to grow shy under their gaze. 
“N- no, no, we’re not married,” you clarify. 
“Not yet!” Jimin adds, and the kids erupt into an uproar. 
You shoot him an icy glare, silently warning him of the Hell that you’re about to unleash in private, but the smile on your face would say otherwise. 
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Jimin shows up at your door the next day with matching ugly sweaters in hand. 
“You’re kidding,” you deadpan. 
“Nope,” he says with a pop of the p. “Don’t couples wear matching clothes?”
“Only if they’re cringey,” you reply. 
Stepping aside, you invite Jimin into your humble abode in preparation for today. You have a few hours left to spare until the white elephant party begins at the boys’ shared apartment. Using your time wisely, although some may argue in defense of that, you decide to finish up the paint job on your pottery bowl, cutting it close to the deadline. Meanwhile, you’ve invited Jimin inside so that he can add the finishing touches to the mug that he’s made. 
Today, the energy in the room feels a little off. You think that you can attribute it to the news that Hoseok broke to you the night prior. Yet at the same time, you don’t know why you’re overthinking about something so trivial. It happened ages ago, and for all you know, it might not be anything too deep. 
“Are we ever going to address what happened last night?” You decide to break the silence. 
Jimin cocks his head to the side, unsure as to what you’re referring to. 
You glide your paint brush against your bowl with the utmost precision. “Were you ever going to tell me that you liked me?”
“Oh, I didn’t think it was that important,” he says with a shrug, too focused on the project in front of him. 
You gaze at him from across the table, expecting more to the story. 
His eyes meet yours. “Really, it’s not that deep, I swear. We hung out a lot, and we talked everyday. You were always there for me, and I think I was stepping on this fine line between loving you as a friend and loving you as a partner,” he shrugs. “We can’t choose the people we love. And in the back of my mind, I already knew that you liked Taehyung, so I had to let you go,” he confesses. “That’s pretty much all there is to it. But before you say anything, I’ll have you know that I got over it before you left for college.” 
You nod your head in understanding. You feel a little better about the situation now that you’ve had a bit of time to process it. “Was I that forgettable?” You jest. 
He shakes his head. “No, but I figured it’d be better for the both of us. You were moving hundreds of miles away. Taehyung would be there beside you, and I’d be back here.” 
One last question still sits in the back of your mind. “Did Taehyung ever find out?” 
He shakes his head. “No, what do you think? Taehyung doesn’t even realize that you’ve been in love with him for years.” 
“Hey, I’m really good at hiding my emotions, okay?” You scoff, although that shouldn’t be something that you’re proud of. 
“No, I just think it takes the right person to read you,” Jimin says, passing you his shoddy mug. 
You grab it by the handle before rotating it to see the design he’s made. In red paint, he’s drawn a big heart with both his initials and yours. It’s cheesy, and maybe a little cringey, but that’s how your relationship has always been. 
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“Nice sweaters,” Yoongi says upon opening the door, although it sounds as if he hates them. He shuffles aside, but before you can step through the entryway, everyone else is already gathering around the foyer. 
“MERRY CHRISTMAS!”
“IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND?” 
“WOAH IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?” 
Voices blend together as everyone simultaneously shouts. 
“Can we at least take our shoes off first?” You ask, completely bombarded by questions, but Jimin doesn’t seem to mind, loving the attention that he’s getting. 
Jeongguk and Seokjin fight one another as they push through the crowd so that they can greet you, but of course, they turn to Jimin first. 
Jeongguk's eyes widen, although you didn’t think it was possible. “Hyung?” 
“Did you miss me?” Jimin extends his hand out for Jeongguk to take, pulling him into a half-hug. “I haven’t heard from you in so long,” he says. 
“The phone works both ways, ya know?” Jeongguk suggests, although he’s not upset in the slightest. 
Jeongguk doesn’t seem to be surprised that the two of you are together. Actually, he seems to overlook that fact, too excited about meeting Jimin once again. Perhaps he can’t see through your lies because he’s too busy being happy in the presence of his best friends. 
“Wow, this is actually happening?” Seokjin says more to himself than to anyone else in particular. “Thanks for taking our girl. I always thought she was a lost cause.” Because in Seokjin’s mind, he’s always seen you as an old maid in training, but he’s only ever understood your character as far as you’ve allowed him to. 
In another world, you’d probably be embarrassed by his comment, but it’s not out of the norm for him, so you let it slide. 
“I think I should be thanking her for taking me,” Jimin corrects, turning to you with soft eyes, something along the lines of yearning. 
In your peripheral vision, you can almost see Yoongi gag at the cheesy comment, and you nearly tell him to mind his own business.  
Namjoon invites everyone to step inside, and the boys begin to filter out of the foyer. But Taehyung and his new girlfriend remain standing in the back of the crowd, and they hang around to greet the two of you. 
You can sense their enthusiasm as they approach you. The smile on Taehyung’s face is one that you’ve never seen before, and it weirds you out a little. 
“Long time no see, huh?” Taehyung extends his arms toward Jimin, reaching for a hug. “It’s a small world, don’t you think? The two of you, together.” 
“Yeah, it took me by surprise too, but it happened all too quickly,” Jimin says, taking his hand in yours. 
It surprises you how good he is at lying. If he hadn’t been a performer, perhaps he could have a career in acting. 
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Aera. Be kind to her, okay?” Taehyung says. 
You would have thought that this moment would be incredibly awkward, but the feeling soon fades as the conversation builds. 
Upon first impression, Aera’s a sweet girl. Her face is almost angelic, and you’re almost certain that she’s Taehyung’s type. 
She talks a lot, but she’s probably excited. Maybe she’s even a little nervous ー you can relate, but for reasons only Jimin knows. 
“Ah, Taehyung told me so much about you,” she reaches for your hand, and you’re caught off guard by her words. 
You freeze for a split second before you remember to keep your cool. Exactly how much does she know? Did she hear about your childhood together? The way that you grew up as next door neighbors, spending days and nights throughout grade school, adolescence, and young adulthood? Has Taehyung told her about the arrangement that you’ve made and all the complicated feelings in the midst of it all? 
As the party rages on, you all gather around for the festivities. The living room becomes overcrowded as you settle onto the couch to watch movies, no doubt is it Home Alone 1 and 2. Seokjin ends up in the kitchen, preparing a hearty meal for everyone. Yoongi follows along so that he can help and sneak a few sips of alcohol before it’s time to eat dinner. Namjoon is only there for moral support. To make him feel useful, Yoongi passes him a tiny potato and a peeler.
Jimin doesn’t leave your side for the entire night, latching onto you as if he’s a lost puppy. His arms sling around your waist, but not necessarily in a disgusting, over-the-top way, more like an innocent, “I’m right here,” kind of way. 
Nobody seems to have any qualms about it, not even you. However, every once in a while, you notice Seokjin eyeing you from the kitchen, flashing you his smile that causes his bready cheeks to rise. 
When opening presents, a bottle of pinot noir gets passed around after multiple people attempt to steal it, but Yoongi manages to snag his own gift for himself. 
Aera receives a stuffed animal in the shape of a pink, muscular bunny. Nobody seems to want it but her. 
Jeongguk picks up your ceramic bowl, but Namjoon is quick to steal it. By the end, it ends up in Jeongguk’s possession once again because nobody needs household essentials like he does. He can finally cross the one (1) bowl off of his shopping list. The next thing he should prioritize is a pillow so that he can get rid of the rolled up towel he’s been sleeping on these last few months. 
Instead of the bowl, Namjoon gets Seokjin’s gag gift, but he can’t seem to find use for a rubber chicken. “It’s for emotional support,” Seokjin suggests. 
Seokjin gets a bottle of purple hair dye from Aera, and you can all imagine the disaster that will come about from that. Although Jeongguk thinks about stealing it, he lets Seokjin deal with the chaos that is sure to ensue. 
Not surprisingly, Jimin gets Taehyung’s gift consisting of a paint by numbers kit. “We can work on this together,” he makes a promise to you, whispering it into the cusp of your ear. It doesn’t quite matter if anyone else can hear this sweet exchange of affection because his words are not meant for anyone but you. 
Yet again, it’s not surprising that you end up with Jimin’s gift. He offers you a second-hand copy of his new favorite book, something to add to your collection of trinkets. You thumb through the pages to find all of his annotations. Sections are highlighted and underlined, and with every few pages, there are little notes that are jotted down in the margins. In the center of the book, there’s a pink post-it note wedged between the pages. It’s almost as if this present was particularly for you, because in Jimin’s chicken-scratch, you manage to decipher his message. 
I’d never forget you. Not even if I become famous, and not even in a million years. 
At the bottom, his autograph is written in thick, black ink.
A smile graces your lips as there’s utter chaos exploding in the background. You tune out the sound of Namjoon and Jeongguk fighting over their gifts, muffled by the sound of Seokjin’s squeaky laugh. 
Nobody dares to steal your present, especially not after sending Namjoon a cold, death stare. 
While the night winds down, everyone settles into their respective spots, naturally gravitating into smaller groups of twos. Namjoon and Yoongi chat in one of the rooms while Seokjin and Jeongguk make a mess in another. 
Of course, Aera and Taehyung are glued to one another, but you don’t pay much mind to them. They’re honestly quite cute together. It’s nice to see happiness on Taehyung, even if he couldn’t find it with you. 
But somewhere in a distant land, on the far end of the couch, you and Jimin find yourselves in your own world. Absentmindedly, you lean into his personal space although there’s enough real estate for you to sprawl across the cushions. 
You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol that’s finally hitting you, or maybe you’re a little tired after a long night of socializing, but your cheeks have been aching from all the smiles and the giggles that you’ve shared. 
Just when you thought you could catch a break, Aera shuffles behind you, interrupting your moment of peace. “Mistletoeeeee!” She yells out, dangling a green sprig above your heads.
Your face grows heated, almost embarrassed that you’re being told to kiss Jimin, in public no less. He looks at you with hesitation in his eyes, silently asking what you want to do. 
But almost on instinct, you lean in to brush your lips against his cheek. You pull back, searching his eyes for any discomfort. When you find that there’s none, you invade his personal space once again, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss. 
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At the end of the night, when the world is quiet and everyone is sound asleep, you and Jimin stroll past the darkened library and the locked laundromat on the corner of thirty-fourth and fifth. Your feet carry you towards your little studio apartment, although you don’t particularly want to crawl into bed if that means it’s cold and empty tonight. 
The walk back to your place is rather quiet.
The two of you shuffle across the sidewalk, side-by-side. Every few steps, your shoulders bump into one another, but neither of you mind. 
“Did you have fun tonight?” There’s a puff of smoke that blows from Jimin’s mouth when he speaks into the frigid air. 
“You could say that,” you hum. Throughout the night, there were moments in which you totally forgot that you and Jimin are nothing but pretend. It almost felt real, and you almost preferred it that way. 
“Would you say that you’re still hung up on Taehyung?” Jimin asks, looking at your visage from his peripherals. He pretends as if he doesn’t really care for your response, although it kills him on the inside. 
Your eyes soften, and you shake your head. “No, I’m happy for him. I realized that he’s moved on, and slowly, so have I,” you announce, almost proud. “We all deserve to be with someone who can love us in the way that we want them to.” 
“Have you found that person yet?” He asks. 
You hook your arm beneath his, looping them together. “Yeah, I might have,” you nod, and he gazes at you fondly, eyes lowering into crescent shapes that the moon can’t even rival. 
As you continue to lethargically make your way back to your apartment, slowly but surely, snowflakes begin to fall from the sky. They litter across the street, sticking to the cement until there’s a soft blanket of snow. 
A wide grin settles across your lips as you look up at the dark void above you. You turn, looking over at Jimin with a glint in your eyes. It’s the first snow of the season. 
And before you know it, you unloop your arm from his, and your feet kick off the ground. You dance across the barren road, running through the night as you pay no mind to any of the oncoming traffic, although there seems to be none during this late hour. 
You twirl in circles, leaping from one foot to another, dancing around as the snow falls around you like a picturesque scene from a movie. 
With a wide grin on his face, Jimin stands behind to watch you enjoy yourself. But when you grow tired, standing still in the middle of the road, he approaches you with a suggestion. “We should make a wish.” 
“I don’t believe in wishes,” you shake your head. “If I want something to happen, I’m going to make it happen.”
He looks into the depths of your eyes, searching for an answer. “What is it that you want?”
Your hand reaches up to grab the collar of his coat, pulling him into a fervent kiss. His mouth is cold against yours, but his loving embrace is quick to warm you up. 
You mumble against his lips, not daring to pull away. “I want you, Park.” 
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bubblebeom · 6 months ago
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Cherry Bomb [M]→ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader Tags: 7k, AU, Bartender!Kook, Cocktail Waitress!Reader, Fluff, Humor, F2L, Smut. Summary: You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window. 
Warnings: Language, bar setting/alcohol, physical assault/violence/bar fight (mild/brief), injuries/blood (split lip), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (m/f), discussion of testing & contraception, oral (f), so so so much crack-filled dialogue during sex, friends to soulmates kinda vibe, maybe a collective 10 seconds of dom energy from JK but he can’t stop laughing, club owner!Jin, bouncer!Joon.
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Being a cocktail waitress came with few perks and several more headaches. The money was great and customers were typically pretty laid back in your club but having rude, inappropriate, drunk patrons every so often was inevitable and tonight was one of those nights. 
“Over here, sweetheart,” You hear the head of one of your tables holler at you as you’re busy delivering another patron’s drinks.
You roll your eyes, plastering on a friendly face as you weave through the crowd with a tray full of drinks. The club is packed tonight and you’ve been absolutely slammed running drinks between tables but the money at the end of the night will make up for the pain in the soles of your feet from sauntering around in platform heels for hours on end. 
When you approach him, he notes the irritation in your mask and has the audacity to patronize you. “Aw, don’t be like that,” He whines loudly, tipping his beer back and draining the bottle before speaking again. “Be a good girl and bring me another beer, huh? I’ll be sure to give you a real big tip, baby.” 
Another rich jerk who thinks he can say whatever he wants.
You scoff loudly but the noise of the club drowns it and you make your way back to the bar, tapping your pen irritably against the counter while the bartender finishes serving someone. Jungkook turns around to see you standing across the bar, absolutely fuming, and his smile falters as he walks over. 
“What’s wrong, angel?” He furrows his brows, following the direction of the pen you flick over your shoulder toward the table you’d just left. 
“Big shot and his friends over there are seriously getting on my nerves,” You roll your eyes, picking a cherry from over the counter to pop into your mouth before Jungkook can stop you. You’re giggling in delight when he narrows his eyes at you playfully. 
“Quit stealing my cherries you little thief,” He chuckles, snapping a wet rag in your direction and just barely missing. 
“Yeah, yeah just give me another beer pretty boy,” You taunt, waiting for him to turn around so you can take two more cherries while he’s looking away. 
Jungkook turns toward the cooler and you make your move but as soon as you reach your hand across the counter he whips around and grabs your wrist causing you to squeal in surprise. 
“I might be pretty but I’m not dumb,” He laughs and you try to wiggle your fingers free but his iron grip is not budging and you huff with impatience even though you don’t mind his hold one bit. You quite like the way his tattooed fingers look on your skin. He smirks at your half-hearted struggle before releasing you and patting your hand lightly. 
Jungkook really is pretty. He is the actual definition of too pretty. When he first started working at the club, he piqued your interest immediately and you had swooned over his face, and his perfect hair, and all the tattoos, and his ridiculously appealing physique. However, work was work and you had a habit of not mixing business and pleasure so you weren’t going to break the rules for the hot new bartender either. 
But damn, was he doing a good job of breaking through your resolve. He flirted every chance he got, addressed you in pet names out of habit, which you adored, and had become one of the main reasons you enjoyed showing up to work each night. Though you routinely brush off his advances, he didn’t care, he knew it wasn’t because you were uninterested.
Your silent stare down was broken by an obnoxiously loud whistling and both your eyes look toward your table where you’re being summoned by catcalls and waving hands. You turn your head back toward Jungkook, rolling your eyes for only him to see but he is still watching over your shoulder, a hard look on his face. 
“I assume limp dick is getting impatient,” He comments, annoyance written clearly all over his face. You noticed a small tick in his jaw that makes your heart skip a beat. Oh.
Okay, so agitated Jungkook has entered the chat and he’s...extra hot. 
“As I was saying, the faster they get plastered, the faster they leave,” You sigh, accepting the cold beer from his outstretched hand, eyeing his crossed arms while trying not to go cross-eyed at the sight of the taught muscle. 
“Let me know if you get tired of his shit,” Jungkook growls and you quirk a brow at him, surprised with his tone, but he doesn’t bend in the slightest, just cocks his head and adds, “I’ll happily deliver that for you if you’d like.”
You chuckle at that, “It’s fine kookie, I don’t really think you’re his type and a girl has bills to pay.” You move away from the bar, back into the crowd and Jungkook watches you go, weaving in between tables expertly. 
You put on your best customer service smile as you approach the table, purposely stopping at the opposite end but as you moved to set the glass bottle down, the man tsked loudly.
“Sweetness, that’s just too far away,” He whines, making a show of leaning back in his seat when he could easily reach forward to grab the bottle, “Why don’t you bring that drink and that sweet little ass over here,” He challenges and the internal rage you feel is oh so close to bubbling to the surface. 
You snatch the bottle up with a little more force than you anticipated and move around to stand beside him and he made an obvious show of scanning your side profile, your ass in particular, as you bent over and placed his bottle before him. 
“That’s better,” He pauses to lift the beer and you move to walk away but he catches your arm before you can move, “Where are you going, baby?”
You stiffen under his hold, “I’m sorry, did you need something else?” You ask through gritted teeth. 
The man loosens his grip just to slide his hand down the length of your arm and you fight the urge to physically shutter as he slides a finger beneath your palm to hold it lightly, “You’ve been gone a while and my friends are awfully thirsty. Why don’t you bring another round for everyone and put it on my tab. Ok, angel?”
He releases you then and when you turn away, he reaches out and slaps your ass, hard. Within a second you’re whipping back around to let him have it when someone tugs you back by the waist and tucks you behind their body and your confusion triples when you realize it's not Namjoon, the bouncer, but Jungkook instead. 
“You’re not getting shit. Pay your tab and get out,” Jungkook says icily, glaring at the man still lazily seated at the table. 
“Oh, come on,” He laughs loudly, “We’re just having a good time, isn’t that right princess?” He leans to look around Jungkook but he sidesteps and keeps you behind him, hidden from sight.
“You’re done talking to her,” Jungkook deadpans, “Pay and leave.”
The man wipes his hand over his face in exasperation as he stands from his seat, and holy shit you hadn’t realized how big he was. He is now standing directly before Jungkook, several inches taller and you begin frantically searching for Namjoon but he is nowhere to be found. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch. 
“Why don’t you fuck off and go clean some glasses huh?” The man taunts, moving closer to Jungkook who stares back with an unimpressed look, “Better yet, she can stay here while you fetch the drinks, bitch.”
The situation is getting increasingly worse and you’re close to panicking now. You place both your hands on either side of Jungkook’s waist, snaking one around the front as you try to walk him backward, “Jungkook, let’s go...it’s not worth it.”
The other guy chuckles at the sight of you pulling Jungkook away and as he’s turned away briefly to earn a laugh from his friends, Jungkook leans his head back to whisper, “Step back for me, ok baby?” as he starts pulling your arms away gently. 
You do as he asks and watch as the guy turns back to Jungkook, “Go on, run me my drinks, bartender,” He taunts again and those are his last words before Jungkook chuckles then cocks his fist back and hits the man so hard in the face, he rocks back against the table, sending glasses shattering to the floor.
You can’t even believe what just happened as you stand there with your hands covering your mouth in shock. Everyone is looking now and your panic skyrockets when the guy’s friends start to get up. One goes to help him back up but two of them are staring at Jungkook with rage in their eyes and you shout at the other waitresses nearby for them to go find Namjoon and Seokjin, the club owner.
You watch in horror as the two men advance on Jungkook, fists raised and furious and you almost look away as the first one strikes but instead you stifle a gasp as Jungkook dodges the blow and uppercuts the man hard, sending him stumbling a few steps back. Unfortunately, he isn’t fast enough to miss the fist thrown by the second assailant and Jungkook takes a hit to the face, the corner of his lip now trickling blood. 
Jungkook touches the tender flesh and ticks his head as he sees the blood on his thumb. A shaky smile takes over his lips before he lunges at the man, driving his fist into the man’s gut so hard he keels over immediately and Jungkook throws him to the floor just in time for Sarina to come back with Namjoon and Seokjin in tow, as well as two other guys from the security team. Namjoon and his team intervene while Seokjin tries to assess the scene. 
You rush over to Seokjin’s side, grabbing his forearm to get his attention, “Jin, it’s not his fault- that guy has been harassing me all night and he touched me. Jungkook only stepped in to protect me.”
Seokjin pats your hand and looks you over briefly, making sure there isn’t a scratch on your skin. He’s very protective of his employees, but his girls in particular. “It’s ok, I believe you. We’ll handle this. Take Kook into the back and get him cleaned up ok. You’re sure you’re alright otherwise?”
You grimace at the thought of the man’s hands on you and how you’d likely have a bruise from how hard he’d smacked you but you offer Jin a half smile, “I’ll be fine, thanks boss.”
Jungkook is still panting, staring down the group of men but the instant he feels your hand slip into his he stills, glancing down at your joined hands and then up to your face. “Come on,” You whisper, leading him away from all the noise. 
He follows you into one of the few employee bathrooms and leans against the sink while you raid the cabinet against the opposite wall for the first aid kit. You finally find it and set it atop the cabinet, rifling through for something to clean him up with and an antibiotic cream. 
“Are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice is quiet but you hear him clearly and smile at him over your shoulder. 
“I’m okay,” You sigh, grabbing your supplies and setting them next to him on the bathroom counter as you come to stand between his legs, “More worried about you.”
Jungkook looks down at you and chuckles, “This is nothing, I promise. I’ve had it a lot worse.”
You try to hide your smile as you grab some clean gauze pads and reach around him to soak it with a little warm water, “You got a history of getting into bar fights?” You cock your brow at him playfully and he grins. 
“I’ve been told I have a very punchable face,” He admits, a little flush coming to his cheeks despite his jesting as you frame his jaw with one hand and press the gauze to the side of his lips with the other. 
“I happen to like your face,” You whisper, not daring to meet his eyes as you dab at the blood on his lips.
Jungkook says nothing in re