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#jungkook fanfic
jkeuphoriadreamland · 2 days ago
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Irresistible⤞ pt. 1
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⤞ Pairing: Hybrid Maknae line x reader ⤞ Genre: Hybrid!au, Smut, 18+ M, 3k words ⤞ Summary: You weren’t supposed to be theirs, and they weren’t supposed to find you so irresistible. ⤞ Warnings: mentions of heat, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, future smut ⤞ A/N: This fic will contain future smut and is 18+ M. Thank you once again to my wifey @outromoni​ for her ridiculous talent. All credit goes to her for the banner. 
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The words spoken by the employee at the center fell deaf on Jungkook’s small, but cute bunny ears. The rules were simple; no one could own a human without going through the proper procedures. The problem was, the moment Jungkook set his eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. For weeks he visited the center, always seeking you out in hopes that you weren’t gone. He must’ve walked by your display window a thousand times. Each and every encounter, although only through glass, was unforgettable. Sometimes he’d simply watch you sit in a corner looking forlorn and quiet, and other times, he would see you attempt to interact with the other humans inside of the shared enclosure. But what really killed him, was when you looked right into his soul, your pretty eyes begging to be set free. He couldn’t just leave you there to rot.
Instead of doing what he knew was right, he ignored the voices in his head telling him to rethink what he was about to do. Stealing you wasn’t exactly his first choice, but there was no way the center would let him adopt you. He was still in university and unable to care for another being, not to mention there was also the problem of his hyungs. The application process was ridiculous, and he was much too impatient to wait, a problem his hyungs have been working hard to correct.
And on this particular day, after he loitered about the center for longer than was acceptable, Jungkook decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He fell to temptation knowing his actions were illegal, but the possibility of losing you to some other owner was too devastating to ignore. And so late into the evening, when the sun was already set, Jungkook took matters into his own hands.
He wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation he would soon have to face. It was bad enough he was dangerously on the brink of setting off his heat, probably due to the adrenaline rush he was feeling, but having to explain to his hyungs what he had done was going to be difficult. The entire drive home he chewed on his bottom lip with his protruding bunny teeth, the very same he often used to cutely manipulate his hyungs with. He knew without a doubt that they wouldn’t be happy with what he’d done.
Although he felt incredibly stressed, the moment he arrived at his apartment, the familiar scent filled his nose and his nerves calmed. He all but kicked down the door upon entering, desperate to find someone that would ease the guilt coursing through his veins. He was on edge and his hybrid senses were on high alert. What he needed now was a more composed hybrid to advise him, and he knew just who to talk to.
The smell in the kitchen immediately drew in his senses, so he made his way in nervously. The dim light in the room caused his doe eyes to grow larger, the pupils dilating to twice the normal size. His unusual behavior immediately caught the attention of Jimin who was busy making dinner.
“What’s got you all excited, bun?”
Bun. Jungkook’s ears wiggled at the endearment. The way Jimin said it always triggered his endorphins. There was just something soothing and charming about the sweet hybrid who was currently making his favorite meal. The problem, however, wasn't Jimin, but Tae. Jungkook knew he could get away with anything if he just cranked up his cuteness, but after almost seven years of living with both of them, he knew it would take a little more to soften the tiger hybrid; speaking of which...
“Where’s Tae?” Unable to keep his body from shaking, Jungkook sat at the table and wiggled his feet back and forth trying to contain his emotions. Breaking this news wasn’t going to be easy, and although Jimin was much easier to manipulate, what he had done was unacceptable.
“He’ll be here soon. Now, tell me, what’s going on? Your eyes are so large I can see the stars in them, and not to mention, you’re giving off a new scent. Did you see a girl you like, Kook-ah?” he teased.
Jimin already knew something was up. It was adorable to see the bunny hybrid look so small. Although Jungkook was big and strong, with his twenty-fourth birthday on the horizon, he was still a baby in his eyes. If this behavior was over a girl, Jimin would certainly be intrigued.
“W-what...what no, I just… I need to tell you both something.”
A tiny sneeze from the living room causes Jimin to pause. “What was that?” He glances at Jungkook with an arched brow and then at the entryway leading into the other room. “Did you bring a guest, Koo?”
Jimin stands, and Jungkook panics, running to block the path that leads to the sin he’s committed. “It’s nothing. You’re hearing things. I really need to talk to you and Ta--”
“Um, who the hell are you?”
Fuck!
The sound of Taehyung’s voice is ill-timed and Jungkook feels like everything that could go wrong is. He turns to race towards the living room hoping nothing terrible has happened. Sometimes Tae could be a little rough and he didn’t always take kindly to strangers.
The moment Jungkook reaches you, he sees Tae at the other end of the room with a full on scowl. “It’s nothing! I-- I found her...and,” Jungkook stammers as he attempts to hide you behind his larger frame. He reaches his arms back trying to protect you, and he finds it hard to explain what he’s done. Even though he went over his speech many times before arriving, all of it goes out the window as soon as he finds himself standing in front of the two most important people in his life.
“Koo. What is this? Where did you find it? You know humans are a big responsibility. When you agreed to stay with us, you agreed to follow our rules,” Jimin gently reminds him.
Upon hearing his hyung’s soft voice, Jungkook’s nose twitches and his pretty dark eyes begin to water. He didn’t want to cry, but he tended to be very soft-hearted, and it felt like he was being judged for something they didn’t understand.
Just seeing the bunny’s face breaks Jimin’s heart, and he looks towards Tae for an answer, but the tiger simply puts his hands up in defeat. “Don’t look at me Jimin. You were the one that wanted him to stay with us. I told you bunnies are a handful.”
Jimin’s cat ears twitch and he sways his tail about until it’s curled around Taehyung’s waist. “I know, but look at how cute he is. Not to mention, you’ve stopped being such a grump since he arrived. We’re finally a family. Don’t be such a hard-ass. Let him explain himself.”
They both turn back to Jungkook, Tae’s foot tapping on the wooden floor setting the bunny’s nerves on edge. Although they were clearly upset, they truly were the only family he had. They took him in when he was just a runaway teen who was done with all the abuse he’d endured from his adoptive family. For some reason there was still prejudice between breeds and Jungkook ended up in a home that wasn’t accepting. For a few nights he found himself sleeping in the streets, wondering about his future, until he ran into Jimin. It didn’t take long before Jungkook was swept up into a clean home, shown the shower and offered delicious food. Ever since then they’d taken care of him.
And it was because of his experience that he had to make them understand why he’d taken you. You were alone. He knew that feeling oh so well, not to mention, something about you made his body feel things he’d never felt before. He was pulled towards you, like a magnet, and it made him feel dizzy.
“Guys… I mean...Hyungs. You have to understand, she was in the center all alone. Look at her. She’s dirty and unkempt. It’s obvious she wasn’t being treated well. It’ll only be for a short time. I promise. You won’t even know she’s here.”
Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked to Tae whose jaw was clenched. They stare in silence at the younger male who’s all flustered. “Jungkook. How did you get her? It’s not easy to get a human just like that.”
Jungkook knows what Jimin is asking, but if he admits the truth, they might make him return you. “I just got her, okay?! Why can’t you just understand that she needs a home?!”
Noticing Jungkook’s bunny teeth protruding defensively, Taehyung lifts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, Kook-ah, just calm down. She can stay for a short while, but after that she needs to go. I have a feeling she isn’t supposed to be here.”
Jungkook visibly calms down and Jimin smiles at him before turning his attention to you. He can see that you’re shivering, the thin material the center provided you doing nothing to keep your weak human flesh warm. “Hello, um… what’s her name, Koo?”
Jungkook freezes and attempts to recall the name he saw on the glass of your cage. “Her name is… ugh…” He turns around and begs with his eyes hoping that you’ll help him out, but then he sees the collar around your neck. Turning the tag, he tests the name on his lips.
“Her name is, ___.”
He hears you stifle a noise the moment his fingers brush against your neckline, but then he sees the marks and scratches along your skin. At first he was worried that he did something to hurt you, but the sheer cloth you’re wearing suddenly distracts him and your pretty nipples brush against his forearm when he shifts. That was all it took for his brain to become hazy. Suddenly he doesn’t feel like himself and for some reason his own hyungs feel like a threat. A strange desire to protect you overcomes him and he snarls when he feels Jimin approaching.
“Okay, nice to meet you, ___. Why don’t you come with me and I can show you to th--”
“NO! She...I mean...I can show her...let me. I...” Jungkook shakes his head, the heat flowing through his body making him feel like he could tear apart anyone that came too close.
Jimin pauses with a concerned look on his face and looks to Tae for help.
The tiger hybrid drops his voice to a lower register, one he knows Jungkook cannot ignore. “Kook. Calm down. Nobody is going to hurt her. Besides, I need to talk to you.”
Without even letting Jungkook agree, Taehyung wraps a large hand behind the irritated hybrid’s neck and tugs him to the kitchen. Jimin moves forward once the menacing bunny is gone and takes you by the hand toward the bathroom.
“What the fuck was that?” Tae’s voice reverberates in his chest, the frustration of a long day and his friend’s chaotic behavior setting off his temper. He would always control his inner tiger making sure his voice didn’t frighten the sweet bunny boy before him, but right now he didn’t like what he saw.
“I-I don’t know… it’s just so weird. When I first saw her it was like I was being pulled to her and just the thought of either of you touching her has me…”
Jungkook’s foot begins tapping aggressively against the tiled floor and Tae’s eyes flicker to it. Making sure his instincts were correct, he gets closer to the younger and takes a deep breath.
“Just as I thought. You’re in pre-heat, bun.”
The accusation makes Jungkook jump back and hug himself as if that would shield others from smelling the truth. “I am not!” He manages to snarl as best as he can, but his efforts at attempting to look big and threatening make Taehyung smile.
“If you say so, Koo, but I have a very good sense of smell, and no matter how much you try to hide it, it’s very obvious from the outside too. Did you really think you could try and puff up like that against Jimin in front of me? Heat or not, you need to calm down and tell me everything because something has your bunny tail in a twist.”
Even though they have never disrespected one another or crossed lines, their animal instincts always took over, and Jungkook found himself surrendering quickly. They sat at the table and the bunny spilled everything. The entire time Tae listened quietly, occasionally smirking at the cute expressions Jungkook displayed whenever he got super riled up.
When everything had been explained, Jungkook sat back waiting for the worst possible thing to happen. He knew Tae was not very fond of humans to begin with, and the fact that stealing one could put their entire family at risk was also not a good thing.
“I’ll have to talk with Jimin about this. The human can stay in your room for now.”
“What?”
Jungkook looked shocked at what the other suggested. Surely he didn’t think it was a good idea to put a human in a room with a hybrid. Although Jungkook liked you, he wasn’t sure what you were capable of. He took you in hopes that his hyungs would have a better solution for your imprisonment, but this...
“Don’t look at me with those big eyes. You got into this mess and now you have to be responsible for it until we can figure something out. I don’t trust that thing, and leaving it in another room would keep me awake, so… this is all on you, bun.”
“But...but…”
“Sorry, no buts.”
With a final word, Taehyung walked out of the room to seek out Jimin. Ever since they took in Jungkook, it’s been a never ending adventure, but this was beyond his imagination. The truth of the matter was that the law could get involved and there were severe penalties for illegal human ownership. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand over his face and smiled once he saw Jimin standing in the hall just outside of the bathroom.
“This is quite the mess, huh?”
“You’re telling me. That cute little human has been splashing in the water for over ten minutes. It’s like they don’t bathe them or something. When I brought her some clean clothes she almost cried. I don’t know what they do to them in those facilities but I can see why Jungkook wanted to help her.”
“Don’t take his side, Jimin. Jungkook should know better. He’s a grown man. This is just too much, and then…”
“Then what?”
“Well, I don’t know how to say this, but, I’m pretty sure he’s in pre-heat.”
“I knew it!” Jimin’s eyes slitted as he contemplated all the events. There was only one possible explanation for Jungkook’s behavior, and his heat was certainly it. “When he walked in I could smell something was different. Do you think this female set him off? What does it mean?”
“I don’t know what any of this could mean. Hybrids should only want another of the same species, but of course our Koo had to be different.”
“That’s not true, Tae. Remember, we are also part human. Just because we became the dominating race doesn’t mean we don’t have some connection to humans. We have their DNA. It’s possible to still have the urge to mate with--”
“Don’t! I don’t even want to imagine it. Humans are disgusting. They did this to us and now their own species is in danger of extinction because their genetics were weaker. Mating with them is not exactly something I want to think about.”
Jimin giggled as he watched the tiger walk off grumbling. As tough as he tried to be, Jimin knew better. They’d been friends since high school, and not once had the big, bad tiger ever done anything to harm anyone. “All growl and no bite,” Jimin mumbled amused.
A sudden scream on the other side of the bathroom door had Jimin rushing inside. Upon entering he finds you flat on your back. He guesses you must’ve been trying to get out but slipped due to the water you were splashing around earlier. He quickly covers his eyes and attempts to hand you a towel, but all he can hear is your infectious laughter filling the room. The whole situation is ridiculous, and suddenly Jimin starts laughing along with you. When he finally manages to find your hand, you tug at the towel and he doesn't expect it. His arms come away from his eyes as he struggles to catch himself, but it’s too late. He lands on top of you and worst of all, Jungkook just so happens to be walking by at this exact moment.
“HYUNG!”
“Jungkook… it’s not what it looks like I--”
“Get off of her!” Jungkook’s rage overtakes him, and he can’t help but grab Jimin’s arm and tug him away, his sharp nails accidentally cutting into Jimin’s skin. The cat hybrid whimpers, but Jungkook ignores everything around him. His eyes connect with yours and he quickly lifts your partially covered body into his arms. Rushing out of the bathroom and straight into his room, he locks the door behind him.
The entire thing happened so fast, but the cuts on Jimin’s arm were a clear reminder that it did indeed happen. The sting brings a hiss to his lips and within seconds Taehyung arrives. “What the fuck happend in here?” The smell of blood reaches his nose and he immediately goes into predator mode. “Who’s bleeding,” he growls.
“It’s okay. It’s just me, Tae. Please calm down.”
“What the fuck do you mean calm down? Something hap--”
As Jimin gets up Tae notices the blood trickling down his arm and immediately grabs at his elbow tugging him closer, his tongue licking at the wound angrily.
“I’m going to kick that bunny’s ass.” He manages to grit between licks.
“You stop that right now. He’s simply acting on instinct.”
“The fuck he is, I’m going to--”
“Don’t you dare!” Jimin grabs the back of his friend’s shirt and pulls him back. Using his most calm and sultry voice, he plays at Tae's weakness for felines and lulls him back.
“You’re going to let Kookie figure this out on his own. You weren’t here to see what he saw, and if it were you, you would have had the same reaction. Now put those big claws away and let’s go have dinner.”
Hesitantly Tae does as he’s told. Jimin always had a way of working his magic to quell Tae’s anger. Even though Jimin won this round, when Jungkook made an appearance again, they were going to have a serious talk.
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| All works are ©jkeuphoriadreamland: Do not  upload, copy, translate, steal any of my works.
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643 notes · View notes
heyitsmehaneul · a day ago
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𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝐈𝐕)
SERIES ONESHOTS
Couple’s Workout
The Garden Thief
Beast
Harvest Moon
I Want You
Which As They Consume, Kiss
Canvas
Instant Gratification
Waking Up In Vegas
All I Want
High End
Fuckboy Training
Oh My God They Were (Quarantined) Roomates
Delicate
Apartment 224
Silver Ink
Valentines Date
How To Care For Your Hybrid
Knot Today
Workout For Me
Workout
The Bet
Fun And Games
Howling For You
Hold Me Close
Written In The Stars
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borathae · a day ago
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↳ Index [Chapter 10 - It’s The Little Steps That Count]
Genre: Fluff, Smut, soft Angst
Warnings: switchy!Jungkook, domish!Reader, choking, multiple positions & orgasms aye, so much domestic fluffiness, some fears of commitment too because that doesn’t just stop all of a sudden, there is also one very emotional scene about Kook’s path to soberity and it made me cry when I wrote it
Wordcount: 9.6k
a/n: *screeches into the void*
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 Jungkook shakes you awake a few hours later. He didn’t want to shake you awake, just as he didn’t want to wake up in the first place. But he does. He has to. His stomach woke him up.
“What?” you murmur tiredly, watching him run to the bathroom.
He doesn’t close the door. He couldn’t. He barely reached the toilet in the first place. The door would have been too much work.
You sigh, listening to him empty his stomach loudly.
You knew that he drank. He literally reeked of it last night when you met him. His breath, his skin, his clothes, even his lips. It was so strong that it even overpowered the scent of his cologne. Maybe you should have called him out on it, but you were honestly just happy to see him again. You didn’t want to ruin it with fighting.
You listen as he throws up again, sobbing painfully as he does.
Fuck, you feel so bad for him. He never should have drank that much again. It was your fault, you made him drink that much. He must have felt so broken because you threw him out of your place. You were so goddamn unfair to him back then. You roll out of bed and hurry to the bathroom. You need to be there for him, apologize to him through actions and show him that he has your support.
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Jungkook was kneeling in front of the toilet, panting heavily and grasping the toilet seat as if his life depended on it. He hasn’t heard you come in, currently gagging more and more in preparation for having to throw up again.
You sit down next to him in silence, placing your hand on his back to rub soothing circles on it. Fuck, he’s sweat straight through his shirt.
He gags and then his stomach empties itself again.
“It’s okay, let it all out”, you soothe him, “it’s painful, but you’ll feel better afterwards.”
He sobs, convulsing painfully.
“Sssh it’s okay, it’s going to be over soon”, you whisper, patting his back.
He convulses one last time and then finally, finally, his stomach stops aching. He falls down with a grunt, head hitting the wall and eyes barely open.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
“Mhm I know, that sucks”, you say and flush for him.
You get him a glass of water and something to wipe his mouth with afterwards, allowing his head to fall against your shoulder once he cleaned his mouth.
“I’m so sorry you had to see this”, he croaks.
“Don’t apologize, I really don’t mind”, you assure him, petting his damp hair.
He whimpers, pulling his legs up and resting them on your lap.
“___ I drank again last night and now a-all I’m craving again is another sip”, he whimpers, seeking comfort by pressing himself closer, “I’m so scared, I don’t wanna drink again.”
“I know Kook.”
“Why am I doing this to myself?”
“I don’t know.”
“It hurts so much.”
“I know”, you reach over your chest to caress his ear.
He shivers, “don’t stop please”, he begs in a barely there whisper.
You don’t stop, massaging his ear softly. Your brother sometimes did that to you when you wouldn’t calm down. It always relaxed you. You’re happy that it helps Jungkook relax too.
 “___ I think I broke someone last night.”
“Really? How so?”
“There was this woman, who works for me, and were fucking for the past five months. But last night I told her that it was over and”, he whimpers, “and she looked so broken. She cried a-and begged me not to do this to her. ___ I did the same thing she did to me.”
“Don’t be so harsh on yourself please. You and that girl were only fucking, she gave you hopes of a relationship. Don’t mix that up.”
“Yeah, but she was crying so much and she reminded me so much of myself. Fuck ___”, he looks at you with glassy eyes, “I feel so fucking guilty.”
You sigh and cup his cheek.
“You did the right thing Bunny. If you felt that ending the sexual relationship you and her had was the right thing for you to do then it was the right thing to do. You shouldn’t have to stay in relationships just because you don’t want to hurt the other person, it’s best to let them go before you end up getting more hurt than necessary.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I really do. You did the right thing, alright?”
He nods his head, leaning into your touch like an addict looking for his high.
“Thank you so much. You always know what to say”, he whispers, draping his arm across your stomach to hug you.
You continue caressing his ear, listening to his steady breathing.
“Is that why you drank so much?”
“Partially, mostly it was because I missed you so much.”
Your heart stings in your chest.
“This hurts me, don’t drink because of me.”
“I’m sorry”, he chokes out, “oh god, wait.”
He ends up throwing up again, feeling a little less shitty doing so now that you are here to rub his back and let him rest his head on your shoulder afterwards. He was still feeling shitty however. You found out that he was drinking. He didn’t want to drink in front of you anymore, he didn’t want to be drunk or hungover and yet still ended up failing. He feels like such a disappointment. 
“Fuck I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s fine, really”, you assure him, “I’ve been there before.”
“Have you?”
“Yeah and I had nobody, so please stop apologizing. I’m here to help you.”
“Thank you.”
“But you have to promise me that you want to get better, I’m not here to watch you poison yourself over and over again.”
“I promise, it’s going to be easier now. I have you, I can do it with you by my side.”
You give him a smile, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before resting your cheek against his head.
“I’m so happy that we’re finally dating. I've wanted this for so long.”
Your smile falls.
Fuck.
Now you have a person depending on you.
You have a person to take care of. You swallow heavily. This is everything you never wanted. You have a person, another human being, who is going to be by your side from now on. They could leave you. Jungkook could actually leave you. You just gave him the opportunity to hurt you.
What have you done?
“Right?” Jungkook sits up and crawls on top of your lap, “we are dating, aren’t we?”
You stare at him, picturing every bad scenario which would come out of you saying no. Jungkook ends up very hurt in most of them. Then you look at his lips and picture every bad scenario which would come out of you saying yes. You end up hurt in most of them. You look into his eyes and feel close to choking.
Jungkook scoots up your lap and touches the sides of your neck softly.
“We are dating, right?” he asks quietly, eyes becoming glassy in worry.
You end up hurt in most of them. Jungkook hurts you in most of them. He breaks your heart over and over again. Jungkook is going to break your heart if you say yes, so break his’ first.
The voice in your head is basically screaming it at you.
“Yes”, you answer him barely audible and flinch mentally when the voice begins yelling at you how stupid you are. Shut up voice, I want to be happy once. You tell it, clutching his thighs tightly for support.
“Oh god”, he says and sighs in relief, “I was so scared that you would say no”, he confesses and leans closer, “can I kiss you?”
“Brush your teeth first.”
“Oh yeah”, he covers his mouth, “sorry, that’s so disgusting.”
“It’s fine”, you assure him, giving his butt a gentle pat, “stinky boy.”
“Don’t”, he whines and blushes, “you are so mean, this is so embarrassing.”
He stumbles off your lap and gets to his feet with the help of your shoulders. Then he waddles to the sink and opens his cabinet to take out his toothbrush and toothpaste. You watch him, fumbling with the empty glass of water in your hands.
You said yes. Despite all the warnings of your brain you said yes. What is happening to you? That's not you. You don’t commit to someone. You don’t. 
Jungkook turns and opens another cabinet. He seems to feel better now. It was probably one of those moments where his body needed to get rid of the excess poison in his stomach, but once it’s done it feels good again. You sometimes had those moments too when you took too much.
“I have a fresh toothbrush in there, you can use it if you want to”, he tells you and points at it.
“Thank you, that’s so nice", you say and force yourself to stand up.
So you and him brush your teeth next to each other, sneaking nervous glances at the other every so often. It feels so weird to you. You are being all domestic with him.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks you.
“Huh?” you widen your eyes maybe a little too much right now. He wants to do stuff with you??
“Should we go out and do something? Or do you want to stay in and cuddle?”
“Uuuuuh….”
"I think I wanna stay in, I’m so sleepy. Is that okay with you?" 
"Uuuh", you say before nodding your head. He wants to do stuff with you. That feels so weird to experience.
"Nice, then let's stay in." 
Jungkook spits out the toothpaste and rinses his mouth with water. He gurgles it and spits it into the sink, washing his face with cold water afterwards.
“Oh that felt nice”, he sighs and pats it dry with a towel, “my cheeks felt so tight from all the crying”, he says while putting moisturiser on his skin.
His eyes flit to you.
“What’s with that look?”
“I uhm”, you look away, “nothing.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know”, you say and mean it honestly. You just feel weird and you can’t really say why. This is the type of intimacy you are not used to. You don’t know how to react.
Jungkook gnaws on his lower lip, watching you spit out your toothpaste and then rinse your mouth. You splash your face with ice cold water, hoping that it can lessen the feeling of burning up. Then you straighten up, gasping when Jungkook stands next to you with a fresh towel between his fingers.
“Thank you”, you whisper, accepting it and patting your face dry with lowered eyes.
“Do you want moisturiser too?”
“I don’t k-know, does it help?”
He nods his head and offers you the opened tube. You have never used such products before. Why should you, when eighty percent of your day you are wearing a mask either way?
“How much do I need?” you ask him shyly.
“Can I show you?”
“Yes?” you allow him and ask him at the same time what he means by that.
He steps closer and tilts your head up with one finger under your chin. 
"Oh…"
His eyes race over your features before a soft smile tugs the corners of his lips up. Then he places his pointer and middle fingers on your cheek, eliciting a soft gasp from you because of the cold cream on his fingertips.
“You have to put it everywhere first to make it all even”, he tells you in a soft spoken voice, putting tiny dots of the white cream all over your face, “perfect all done”, he grins.
“Okay”, you whisper, gawking at his brows eyes and wondering what the hell you were doing here.
“Then you have to spread it. Like that”, he says and begins rubbing it into your skin in slow circles. He touches you softly, tentatively even, eyes following the lines his fingers draw.
You can’t remember the last time you took a breath. You don’t think that you have ever felt so….vulnerable before. You are allowing someone else to put moisturiser on your face in the softest of touches. This feels as if you are walking down a busy road naked. So you clutch the fabric of your shirt right where your heart pounds in your chest, hoping that you can shield yourself a little.
He runs his pointer fingers down your temples and then dances them over your cheekbones, “there we go, now it’s all absorbed”, he whispers.
“Thank you”, the words are silent as you speak so you clear your throat and try a second time, “thank y-you.”
He smiles, eyes flitting to your lips. You can feel it and see it. You close your eyes and go for it. You goddamn go for it and press a kiss to his lips.
“Mhm”, he lets out, fingers losing themselves in your hair and shoulders rising to his ears.
You break away way too soon for his taste, keeping your eyes half-lidded and focused on his parted lips.
“Did you like that?” you ask him, because quite frankly you didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.
“So much”, he whispers, half-lidded eyes focused on the curve of your nose.
“Hah”, you let out and step back, “I have an idea."
"An i-idea?" 
“Let’s get all of your booze bottles and put them on the kitchen counter.”
“What? Why?”
“Let’s just do it.”
“Uhm”, Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion.
“Do you trust me Bunny?”
He nods his head, "of course, but why?"
“Good then let’s do it”, you say and grab his hand, “let’s go, let’s collect all of the bottles.”
He follows you, showing you all the places with confusion in his eyes. But you have a plan. He will see soon enough what you want to do.
Jungkook sets down the last bottle of whiskey (he found it in the guest bathroom hidden under towels) and then steps back to look at you.
"Is that everything now?" you ask him. 
He nods his head, staring at countless bottles. Holy fuck, that’s so many. What is wrong with me? He thinks and feels his heart ache in guilt and embarrassment. He lowers his head and bites down on the tip of his tongue. He wants to cry just from seeing how fucked he actually became.
"Good”, you say.
Silence as you work. You take the first bottle of many and open it. Jungkook lifts his head at the sound, eyes flitting to the bottle. 
"What are you doing?"
You extend your arm and hand it to him. He furrows his brows. 
"Take it." 
"What?" he gasps.
"Take it." 
"Why?" 
"Trust me." 
"Please tell me first." 
"Okay, so I know it's just a little step and also very spontaneous. But maybe we could empty all your bottles into the sink, so that at least in your home you are free of temptation?" 
"Oh", he lets out and lowers his eyes. 
"Wanna do it? It's okay if you don’t, I know that I'm kinda pushy right now." 
"No, uhm…"
Jungkook looks at the bottle of booze and takes a deep breath. He extends his arm and wraps his shaking fingers around the bottle neck. He stares at it, trembling in fear. 
"Now pour it down the sink." 
Jungkook stares at you with fear in his eyes.
"Trust me", you say and smile. 
Jungkook seems hesitant, fumbling with the opened bottleneck. So you step closer and wrap your fingers around his'. 
"Do you want my help?" 
He looks to the floor and nods his head. 
"Okay, let's do it together then. Come on. One, two and...three." 
You tilt the bottle. The brown liquid trickles into the sink loudly, disappearing down the drain in an instance. Jungkook is panting, eyeing it with panic. 
"You're doing very well Bunny", you praise him because you know that all he can think about right now is all the wasted alcohol. 
The last drop. Jungkook tilts the bottle up quickly and breaks away. He wheezes, throwing his hand over his mouth. 
"How do you feel?" you ask him.
He shakes his head, back colliding with the kitchen island. 
"It's really weird to watch isn’t it?" 
He nods his head vigorously, twisting his shirt right above where his heart hammers in his chest.
You put the now empty whiskey bottle in the cardboard box with all the other empty bottles, you had found on the way, and then draw closer to Jungkook. You touch his tummy softly, caressing it.
"And what do you think? Do you like the idea?" 
"Don't know, I-I don’t know", he stutters and shakes his head. 
"Okay, then shall we try another one? And then you can tell me if you want to continue or not?" 
He looks at his collection, shimmying from one foot to the other. His fingers leave red marks on his forehead from how harshly he massages it. 
"Okay, it's hard to answer. I get that. Then show me what is your least favourite out of them all?" 
Jungkook points at the unopened bottle of Bacardi. So you take it. 
"You are not going to miss it, right?" 
He shakes his head. 
"Good, that's good. So let's open it and pour it down the sink. Shall we?" 
"You do it, please", he chokes out, pressing himself against the kitchen island. 
"Okay, I’ll do it."
You step to the sink, open the bottle and turn to Jungkook. He stares at the bottle, hand thrown over his mouth. 
"You are doing amazing Jungkook", you assure him and tilt the bottle. 
He gasps when the liquid hits the sink, shuddering with every spilled drop. It is empty within seconds, the bottle finds its home in the cardboard box. 
"Look, there are three more bottles of Bacardi. Should I empty them for you?" 
Jungkook whimpers, "yes please." 
"Great, we'll do it together. You watch me and I pour."
Jungkook nods his head, eyes glued to your hands. You empty the first two quickly and discard them in the box. Then you turn. Jungkook is holding the last bottle, he had opened it. His eyes are glued to the opening even when he hands it to you. 
"Good job, that was really good", you praise him and turn to the sink to empty the last bottle.
Jungkook whimpers when the last drop falls, throwing his hand over his mouth again. It's gone. The Bacardi is gone. 
You discard the bottle in the box and then claim your spot in front of Jungkook. You touch his sides to remind him that he wasn’t alone right now.
"You have done so well until now. I'm really proud of you." 
Jungkook reaches for you, twisting your shirt in the front. His face is contorted in painful relief. You know that a part of him is mourning the loss of his favourite coping mechanism while another is dancing in joy. The trick is to go slow until dancing becomes easier than mourning. 
"Let's do another one. What's your second least favourite?" 
Jungkook lowers his head and shakes it. 
"It's okay, should I just pick one?" 
He hesitates, rubbing his hand over his face in distress. You think that maybe he will tell you that he had enough but then all of a sudden he nods his head.  
"Okay. Then I'll pick….this one." 
You show him the bottle of Tequila. Jungkook had opened it just last week, but only drank a quarter of it. 
"I never liked that shit", you say and smile. 
Jungkook doesn’t retort it and that's okay. You know how much stress he was experiencing right now. 
"Now come on Kookie, I need your help with that one. Let's do it together." 
Jungkook whimpers, hands balled into fists. So you take one of them and make his fingers wrap around the bottleneck instead. Jungkook whimpers. 
"There we go. Now. One, two, three." 
The liquid pours down quickly. Jungkook squirms beside you, letting out tiny squeaks of distress. 
"All done. Let's do one more together."
You pick out a bottle of soju. You rub Jungkook's lower back in the process because he started to shake uncontrollably. 
The bottle empties quickly. You grab another one and hand it to Jungkook. 
"Can you do this one alone?" 
He shakes his head, eyes becoming glassy. You step closer and open the bottle for him. 
"Now just tilt it Bunny", you whisper, caressing his back. 
He grunts and shakes as he tries to tilt the bottle. He really tries. He swallows down a sob and tilts the bottle more. 
Drop. Drop. Drop.
The soju trips onto the metal loudly. Jungkook wheezes for air and sobs. 
"Yellow", he presses out, dropping the bottle and stumbling away, "yellow, yellow, yellow", he sobs, burying his face in his hands. 
"Okay, that’s okay. Jungkook, you have done so, so well." 
Jungkook turns and runs. He runs and you follow him until he falls down on his sofa.
"I can't do this", he chokes out and sobs loudly, "I can't do this, I can’t, I can’t." 
"Hey Bunny", you kneel down in front of him and cup his cheeks to tilt his head up, "you don’t have to do this anymore. We can stop for today. I am not forcing you to do this." 
Jungkook sobs. His face carries so much fucking pain but somehow also disappointment.
"Tell me your thoughts Jungkook, what’s bothering you?"
"I can't do this, I c-can't do this. Not alone. I can't do this alone."
"Okay, then let's do it together." 
He shakes his head and leans forward until his face is buried in your shoulder and you have to support half of his weight. 
"Why? Tell me what makes it so hard."
"So much alcohol", he manages to get out and then he has to sob painfully. 
"Ah I get it. You are seeing all of this alcohol run down the drain and you feel like you are wasting it." 
"No, no." 
"Then tell me Kookie."
"I can't do this without it. I'm so scared. I can’t live without it." 
"You feel like it now because you are currently under immense stress, but trust me Kook you can. I saw you be happy without booze. I saw you function without it. You can live without it." 
Jungkook whimpers and lifts his head. 
"Trust me Jungkook. It feels like you can’t, but that's just an asshole trick of the booze as it's trying to lure you back", you cup his cheeks, "you can live without it. Trust me." 
He shakes his head and sobs softly. 
"Come on, let's get up and walk." 
Jungkook lets you pull him to his feet. You support him by his waist, leading him to the stairs. He takes them slowly, needing the hand railing. It’s alright for you because you have time. You just want to bring him away from the alcohol for now, give his brain a new environment to concentrate on. Once upstairs you lead him to the rooftop terrace, opening the door and going outside with him. It is a warm morning. The clouds hang between the skyscrapers, collimating the sunlight into straight beams. From underneath the fields of white clouds a constant rushing was making its way up to your ears. Like that of the ocean. You know that it was traffic however. 
He seems to breathe easier once outside. He doesn’t need to clutch you that tightly and he doesn’t stumble that much either.
You sit him down on his sunbed and sit down next to him, rubbing up and down his back.
"There we go. It can't reach us here." 
Jungkook sniffles and looks at you. 
"I'm sorry."
"There is nothing to apologize for."
"I used my safeword. I, I don’t know why I did that." 
"That wasn’t weird at all. I want you to use it when you feel it necessary. The situation doesn’t need to be sexual for you to need a break or to stop. Okay?" 
"Yes okay", he whispers.
You give him a soft smile, combing his disheveled hair out of his face.
"I'm very proud of you. You managed to throw away seven bottles. That's such an impressive start and one you can be really proud of." 
Jungkook looks at you but lowers his head after a moment. 
"Fuck", he presses out.
"It sounds like too much, doesn’t it?"
"Yes", he confesses shakily. 
"I know it does, but it was just right." 
Jungkook exhales shakily and punches his own palm twice. Then he squeezes his own fist, glassy eyes glued to the floor. 
"I wanna stop drinking. But now that we are emptying all my booze, I don’t want to stop. Why is this so fucking hard?" 
"Because everything inside of you tells you that taking away your supposed only escape is a big mistake." 
You tug his hair behind his ear.
"It has something to do with evolution and how we are still animals in the sense of needing to be aware of an escape route at all times. If we aren't, our bodies go into stress and we start to feel really uneasy and anxious. That's why people choose the seats next to walls in restaurants instead of the ones facing the crowd. You can look over everything better and always have an eye on your escape routes." 
Jungkook looks at you. 
"Alcohol is your escape route Kookie and now you are forcing your body to watch how you are cutting it off. You are currently under immense stress because it feels like you are being forced into a corner." 
"Yes", his lower lip trembles, "that’s how it feels like. I'm so scared." 
"I know you are and that is totally valid, but I am here for you and I am not gonna leave you."
"Really?" 
"Yes really", you take his hand, "we'll tackle this bitch together." 
"Fuck ___", he whispers and guides your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles softly. He presses it against his forehead and closes his eyes, "thank you so much." 
"Don't thank me, I’m doing this gladly." 
Jungkook drops your hand but continues holding it. His elbows are propped up on his thighs, his upper body is bend forward and his head lowered. You rub his back softly, giving him the moment of silence he so clearly needs. You know that his mind must be racing right now. That he is replaying what had happened downstairs over and over again and that he is asking himself all sorts of existential questions. You can remember how you felt when you had to take your last pill. How you stared at it for an hour, trembling and crying, because you didn’t want to use it up but you so desperately needed it. How you asked yourself why you even left Busan in the first place and why you didn’t stay with the people who could have made escaping so much easier. You remember that you threw up from stress once you took the pill and that you stared at the still undissolved pill in your bile and that for a moment you considered reaching in there and taking it out again. You ended up forcing yourself to flush before that could happen and then ended up crying so hard that you had to throw up a second time. 
You are glad that Jungkook, while still clearly in distress, feels a little better in forcing his addiction quite literally down the drain. And you are happy that you can be there for him to make it easier. 
"I feel like such a failure", he breaks the silence. His breathing has thankfully returned to normal. 
"Why?" 
"Because I got upset over spilled booze", he clenches his jaw, "I'm so pathetic." 
"Jungkook", you shake him, "didn’t I tell you to stop talking shit about yourself?" 
He turns his head, staying silent. 
"Stop insulting yourself, not when you can praise yourself instead. You managed to throw away seven bottles. Seven. That's so many." 
He looks away and inhales shakily. 
"Say it Jungkook", you stress and shake him softly. 
"Say what?" 
"Say that you are proud of yourself." 
He grinds his teeth, picking at the skin of his nailbeds. He doesn’t want to say that he is proud because he isn’t. You know that this is what's stopping him. 
"I didn't even pour them down, you did." 
"Doesn’t matter, say that you are proud of yourself." 
He huffs out air, reaching for his face to pick at the fluff on his cheek. 
"Go on Bunny", you encourage him. 
"I'm…" he falls silent and sneaks a glance your way, "that’s stupid." 
"Nuh-uh that’s not what you’re supposed to say. Tell me that you are proud of yourself." 
"I'm proud of myself", he whispers.
"Yes! Yes you are!" you exclaim and laugh proudly, wrapping your arm around him, "why are you proud of yourself Jungkook?" 
He punches his own thigh, swaying from side to side as you shake him softly. 
"I threw away booze." 
"Yes exactly, you did that. You managed to do that." 
Jungkook sniffles, sneaking another glance your way. 
"I'm proud of myself for throwing away booze", the words trembled as they rolled off his tongue. His eyes stayed focused on yours. 
"Yeah you are. Gosh, I’m so happy to hear that", you say, cupping his cheek.
Jungkook exhales through his mouth and leans into your touch. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them and jumping to his feet. 
"Where are you going?" you ask him, following him back inside and down the stairs. 
Jungkook is going straight for the kitchen and takes the first booze bottle he sees. He opens it, discarding the cap in the trash bag. Then he stumbles to the sink and stops. He looks over his shoulder at you. You give him a reassuring smile. 
Jungkook turns back to the sink and lifts the bottle. One tilt and the liquid flows down the drain loudly. 
"Yes! That's so good", you exclaim and laugh.
Jungkook laughs too, he laughs and laughs and laughs until suddenly he sobs. He drops the empty bottle and buries his face in his hands. 
"Hey Kook, hey it's alright you've done very well", you gasp, hurrying to his side. 
Jungkook sobs miserably. You pull his hands away, expecting pain but instead you meet a smile. 
And you understand. That's not pain, that’s relief. This is the realisation that nothing will hurt him when he discards his booze. This is the enlightenment that all those fears were for nothing.
"It feels good doesn’t it?" 
"Y-yes", he stutters and laughs in a sob, "it feels so good." 
He laughs, sobs and laughs again. He rubs his face aggressively, fighting with his tears.
"Fuck, what’s happening to me?" 
"That's normal, just let it happen", you promise him.
He looks into your eyes, allowing the hot tears to stream down his face.
"Give, give me another one.”
And so you do. You hand him another bottle and watch as he opens it and empties it down the sink. And he sobs as he does it, and he laughs as he does it, and he wheezes for air afterwards, staring at you with relieved happiness. 
"One more?" you ask him, feeling your own eyes tear up in happiness.
He nods his head. 
You turn to the counter and take one bottle. There are five more left afterwards. All of them are whiskey. 
"Here you go", you hand him the last bottle of soju and watch as he opens it and empties it without regret. 
He throws the empty bottle in the box and stares at the whiskey bottles. He falls silent. 
"Fuck." 
You drape your arm across his waist. 
"This one is the hardest isn’t it?" 
"Yes." 
"Tell me why." 
"Because…" he exhales shakily, "...it's become part of me." 
"And you want it to be part of you?" 
"I don't know. ___ what if I can’t do this?" 
"Well, I think you can because you are a strong man and you can do anything."
"I'm not strong." 
"Jungkook you've fucking survived until now. You are strong." 
"Fuck", he chokes out, face contorting as he sobs. He seems changed, like you just told him the revelation to life itself when in reality all you did was make him aware of the fact that he kept on fighting even through the hardest days.
"See? You are stronger than you think." 
Jungkook sobs and lowers himself until his forehead is pressed against his arms on the counter. 
"Fuck", he presses out and grunts. He hits the counter and curses again. You let him. You know that this fight is the kind he needs to get through alone, you can stay by his side and rub his back, but his brain needs to do the last push. 
"I can do this", he whispers, straightening up enough to stare at the bottles, "fuck." 
He hits the counter and hits it again. 
"Do it", he says loudly, "do it Jungkook." 
He reaches for the first bottle and opens it. 
"No, it's not-" 
"Yes it's possible. Don't give up now."
He looks at you as if he just remembered that you were with him. He whimpers and pushes himself off the counter. 
"Help me." 
You wrap your hand around the bottle too. 
"Look at me Jungkook." 
Jungkook looks at you and furrows his brows when he can hear the first trickle of alcohol. He wants to see, wants to watch it go down the drain untouched and unused. But you don’t allow him.
"Keep looking at me", you encourage him, tilting the bottle up further.
Jungkook can feel how much lighter the bottle becomes with the seconds. Until all of a sudden. Silence. 
He lets out the breath he wasn’t even aware of holding and turns to the sink. It’s gone. You lower the bottle and take it out of his hand. 
You discard it in the box. 
"I did it", he whispers. 
"You did it. I'm so proud of you." 
He laughs, "holy shit I did it."
"I know", you say and laugh with him.  
He turns to you, "___ I did it." 
"I know, it's so great." 
He breaks the distance between him and you and picks you up to twirl you through the kitchen. 
"I did it", he exclaims and giggles.
"Gosh Bunny, I’m gonna get dizzy" you squeal, clutching his shoulders tightly. 
Jungkook stops, pressing your back against the fridge. 
"I love you", he whispers, glassy eyes filled with adoration. 
"Oh?" your heart skips a beat, "Jungkook I…"
Jungkook slides you down the fridge slowly until your feet touch the ground again. Then he steps closer and buries his face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you safely.
"Thank you so much", he breathes, squeezing you softly. 
You squeeze your eyes shut. Your nose is buried in his shoulder, taking in nothing else than his scent. It is so overwhelming and yet you can’t get enough of it. So you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. You feel a tear run down your cheek. So this is how it feels like to be loved. 
"Don't thank me, it was all on you." 
"No", he lifts his head, cupping your cheek, "no it wasn’t. You made me do it."
"I did?" you breathe. 
"Thank you so much." 
"Fuck Jungkook." 
He smiles and leans closer. He stops, eyes flitting to your lips. 
"Can I kiss you?" 
"Yes", you breathe, closing your eyes in anticipation. 
You gasp when the kiss happens, twisting his hair between your fingers. His lips taste of tears, salty. And somehow you are glad that they do, because on most days they tasted of whiskey instead. 
Jungkook steps closer and lifts you again. You squeak softly, grasping his shoulders and wrapping your legs around his waist. You have never been lifted before. It feels so weird to experience. 
Jungkook breaks the kiss to gaze at you with a smile. You try to retort it, but end up gawking in surprise when Jungkook does the unthinkable of breaking away from the fridge and carrying you through the kitchen.
"Jungkook what are you doing?" you squeak, clasping him tightly.
"You're so cute", he chuckles, walking to the chaise lounge in his living room. It was placed right next to the tall windows, giving view to the city below. The clouds have broken up by now, revealing the streets in messy shreds. 
He places you down on the chaise lounge and claims the spot between your legs. You gasp and look to the side. The street looks so far away. 
"What's wrong?" he asks, staring at your widened eyes.
"Please look at how small the cars are", you say and turn, almost pressing your nose against the glass as you stare outside, "the people look like ants oh my god." 
Jungkook grins and looks outside. He is so used to the view, but he thinks it is exciting today because you were so excited about it. 
You do the one thing Jungkook sometimes does when lies on his chaise lounge and is bored. You stick out your finger and pretend to be the one pushing the cars over the roads. Jungkook feels himself fall even more in love with you in that moment. He had wanted to kiss you until you wanted to connect with him even more, but changed his mind right in that moment. This right here was even better.
"Like toys", you say and chuckle softly. Jungkook smiles and tugs your hair behind your ear. You are so perfect to him. 
"Okay that's lowkey fun", you murmur. 
"Right?" he says and rests on top of you. His cheek is pressed against your chest, your left hand is rubbing up and down his back and his eyes are following your fingers. 
Jungkook lifts his pointer finger and pretends to push the car of the opposite traffic, making little motor sounds. You giggle. The cars are coming closer and closer. Jungkook giggles too. Closer and closer. Will you crash? 
"Oooh..aaand...bam", he says, making explosion gestures with his hand while mimicking an explosion with his mouth. 
You laugh, looking down at him. 
He sneaks a glance up at you and grins cutely. 
"We crashed." 
"You stupid noodle", you giggle, ruffling his hair. 
He smiles and then looks back at the road, finding a new car to push. He makes little motor sounds quietly, almost as if he was lost in his own world. You find a new car too after sneaking one last glance down at him. He is your boyfriend now. Holy shit. Maybe it will not be as bad as you feared it would be. 
"Oh watch out", you gasp and mimic squeaking tires as your car barely manages to pass Jungkook's. 
Jungkook laughs softly.
"Oh that was close", you giggle, finding a new car. 
He giggles, rubbing his nose against you like a cuddly bunny. 
"Now this one, wroom wroom wroooom. Watch out Kookie here it comes", you say, making motor sounds as you push a big bus. Jungkook giggles and feels his heart flutter in his chest. This is so much more fun when he can do it with you. 
"No ___ what are you doing? This is the wrong lane", he murmurs before boom big explosion as your cars collide with each other. You both laugh and giggle, soon finding new cars to push.
And so you and him continue playing gods with unsuspecting cars, making up all sorts of silly stories as you go and it is fun, really and truly fun. You laughed so much that your bellies ached and later when the sun was high above the skyscrapers you fell asleep together, sharing a soft cotton blanket and cuddling the other tightly. Jungkook will empty the remaining four bottles of whiskey even later that day and he will do so with tears of relief streaming down his face while you rub his back and tell him that you are proud of him.
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You meet again on Saturday for coffee and cake in a zombie themed café, which you found on the internet. He came earlier than you, sitting by the window and looking at every passerby with his heart skipping a beat. He felt so nervous, checking his watch every five seconds. You were ten minutes late. It was not a worrying time, perhaps public transport had a delay or spontaneous change in schedule, but it made Jungkook anxious nonetheless. Would you really come? What if you changed your mind? What if you are going to let him wait in this café for hours and never show up? Should he have picked you up at home? Were you expecting him to pick you up?
Jungkook’s eyes widen.
“Wait, did we agree that I pick her up?” he murmurs to himself, raking his brain for answers.
He thinks that they didn’t. He would remember if they did. Or would he? After all his brain is literally mush from withdrawal lately. Just yesterday he couldn’t even remember the passcode to his own apartment and had to call security for help. And this morning he forgot how to use his washing machine and had to skim through the manual.
Jungkook feels his stomach twist.
“Oh god what if I forgot?” he gasps, throwing his hand over his mouth.
He can’t even check up on you because you haven’t given him your number yet. What if he ruined everything now?
Jungkook begins fidgeting nervously, picking at the fluff on his cheeks without even realising that he does it. He ruined it. He ruined it. Oh god he ruined - 
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
Jungkook raises his head. His mind clears in an instance, a smile replaces his frown.
“Hey”, he jumps to his feet, grasping your hands, “you’re here.”
“Yeah I’m here. Sorry for being late, I took the wrong bus and had to walk like three hundred miles to get here”, you say.
“That’s alright I wasn’t even waiting for so long”, he assures you, “here do you want to sit on the bench? The cushion is very comfortable, it’s shaped like a brain, which is funny”, he says, dragging you to the spot he had previously been sitting in, “here have my brain – I, I mean seat.”
You plop down with a low grunt, watching him clumsily sit down on the chair next to you.
“That wasn’t necessary, I could have taken the chair.”
Jungkook is leaning on the table with his elbows, bent forward to get closer to you and cheeks squished between his hands as he grins at you goofily.
“It’s fine I like chairs”, he says.
Fuck he really is so whipped for you, you think as you study his lovedrunk features. 
“What do you want to drink? I wanted to order and surprise you, but then I thought that that’d be kinda a violation of your freewill so I didn’t order and just waited. Did you have a good drive? Also we need to exchange numbers because I tried to call you, but couldn’t because I don’t have your number. Also how are you doing? Gosh I missed you so much, I was going crazy”, he babbles.
You snort, “were you always rambling that much?”
He closes his mouth and blushes.
“Sorry”, he murmurs, “sorry I know I’m making no sense, but I’m just so excited. I want to tell you a million things and listen to your million things and I”, he blushes even more, “and I am starting to ramble again, I’m sorry I’ll shut up now.”
“No don’t, it’s adorable and to answer your questions. Yes, let’s exchange numbers. I am fine, just a little exhausted. I had a good drive and I have no idea what I wanna drink because I have no idea what places like these offer.”
“Wait, I'll get you a menu!”
And like that he is off his chair and by the counter, asking for a menu. You couldn’t even stop him. He runs back to you once he has gotten it, plopping down on the chair.
“Here for you”, he says, sticking the neon green menu all up in your face.
“Thank you”, you accept it with a chuckle, opening it and skimming through it. The drinks and foods all have zombie themed names. Brainsplatter, fresh guts (spaghetti with tomato sauce), chewed off toe. It was exactly how you had hoped they would be called.
You know that he is watching you and it is making you nervous.
“Do you already know what you’re going to get?” you ask him.
“No, but take your time.”
Your eyes meet. He is grinning, eyes sparkling in the lights.
“What?” you ask him.
“I just don’t ever want to stop looking at you”, he says and sighs dramatically, sagging his shoulders, “you’re so beautiful.”
“Stop it”, you hiss, hiding your face behind the menu.
A second later you can feel it being tugged away and soon you can spot Jungkook’s big eyes peeking at you over the edge. He blinks a few times, most definitely starting to smile as the corners of his eyes are starting to crinkle.
“Fine god”, you groan, dropping the menu, “you’re so adorable Bunny, it’s unbelievable” you murmur, cupping his cheeks to pull him into a sweet kiss.
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He rolls over, mewling a second later when you sink down on his cock again. It was a Tuesday when you saw him again. He took the first appointment, strutting through your door with his red mask on and his body wrapped in a grey tweed suit. You talked for a little before you both couldn’t take it any longer. You ripped off your masks, undressed messily while you kissed and he ate your pussy until your juices were covering his chin. Then he fucked you from behind, pulling your hips on his cock over and over and over again until it became too much for you and him and you climaxed together. That was when you slipped off of him, pushed him onto the mattress and sank down on him to ride him through his overstimulation.
“I can barely handle it, holy shit this is too much”, he sobs, writhing beneath you as his nimble fingers grasp your hips.
“Yeah you can Bunny, now shut up and give me your cock, you good-for-nothing fucktoy”, you taunt, wrapping your fingers around his throat.
Jungkook moans, face contorting in surprised pleasure.
“Holy shit”, he chokes out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and arching his back. So you squeeze his throat harder, watching his eyelids flutter and his eyes roll back.
“It’s nice, right? Can you feel how your brain is begging for blood?” you taunt, slamming your hips down on his cock.
“Y-yes mistress”, he chokes out, squeezing your wrist.
“How does it make you feel?”
“Fucking incredible”, he lets out in a growl, you can feel his voice vibrate against your fingertips, "don't stop please don’t fucking stop."
“Fuck Bunny, you’re driving me insane.”
You were aching to cum. You can fucking look at Jungkook when you fuck him. You know the way his cheeks look when they flush, know the way his lips part in a desperate gasp for air, know the way his forehead creases when he furrows his brows in pleasure. You also know how his black hair looks like sticking to his sweaty face and you realised that he has the tendency to bite down on his lower lip and roll it between his teeth when you touch his nipples.
So you touch them, tugging on them harshly.
“Ah”, he lets out, biting down on his lower lip in an instance. You squeeze his throat and punish him with a harsh bounce up and down his throbbing length.
“You’re really driving me insane”, you grunt, pinching his other nipple.
Jungkook releases his lip and mewls. His right hand falls to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh bruisingly tightly.
“I wanna cum”, he confesses, opening his eyes just enough to be able to look at you. He is so into this. He can look at you. He knows how your face looks when he fucks you. He decided that you look even better than you did in his imagination.
You squeeze his throat and draw closer until your lips are touching.
“Then fucking do it”, you rasp, pulling away just to be able to watch how his face looks like when you let go of his throat and make the blood shoot back into his brain.
His eyes roll back so far into his skull you only see white, his jaw locks tightly, lips curling back to show his teeth as he grinds them and grunts deeply. Then he shakes and you can feel his hot cum cover every inch of your pussy. His mouth falls open, eyelids fluttering and neck tensing. So that’s how he looks when he orgasms.
“Fucking hell Bunny”, you moan, feeling the coil in your stomach break as you climax on top of him so hard that you feel like someone punched the air out of your lungs.
You collapse on top of him after twenty seconds of feeling breathless, making him slip out of you with a wet sound. His cum gushes everywhere, how wonderful this is going to take ages to clean up. Your legs feel like jelly, your chest fills with so much warmth.
“Fucking hell”, he groans and wraps his arms around you.
“Mhm indeed”, you murmur, drooling on his chest.
“Why are you so good at sex?”
You laugh.
“I had lots of practice.”
“No but you’re literally inhuman. Are you a succubus or something?”
“That’d be a fun roleplay”, you raise your head, “I’m the starving succubus visiting you in your sleep. I wake you with my lips wrapped around your throbbing cock and as you wake up, you realise that I tied your limbs to the bedposts. You’re scared at first but soon find yourself trembling in my touch as I milk your body from all the pleasure you have to offer.”
“Okay that would literally be so hot. Can we do that?”
“Now?” you laugh.
“Not now, someday. Maybe not here”, he dances his hands down to your ass to caress it softly, “maybe at my place when you stay over again.”
“You wanna have sex outside this place?”
He laughs in disbelief and furrows his brows.
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Why would that be weird? We’re dating.”
He laughs in disbelief again, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Why would that be weird?” he asks sadly.
You gnaw on your lower lip then lower your eyes.
“I don’t know, I just…”
You look back at Jungkook. He is confused, just as you are. You don’t know why you are acting so weird right now or why the thought of you and Jungkook fucking anywhere other than this room is scaring you so much, but it does. Maybe it is because it just reminded you once again that another person was depending on you and in return you had a person to lose and so you panicked.
“Please talk to me ___.”
“That’s so intimate. What would we even do?”
Jungkook laughs in confusion, “have sex? Just like we do here, but without the awful house music and the smell of strangers and your boss literally exploiting you.”
“Hush, oh my god, don’t say that”, you hiss, pressing your hand over his mouth and looking over your shoulder at the very locked door.
Jungkook shakes your hand off, licking his lips and furrowing his brows.
“It’s the truth.”
“Don’t say that Bunny please”, you whisper, pressing him down into the pillows and hovering over him. You muffle him with both hands, staring into his eyes. He looks at you with unconditional trust in his gaze. You exhale shakily and take away your hands, “I’m sorry for doing that.”
“It’s alright”, he assures you and reaches up to tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “why are you scared that she hears you? It’s the truth and you know that it is. You shouldn’t have to give away eighty percent of your money, not when you have to accept shitty fucks from shitty dudes.”
“It, it’s right that way. They use the money to keep the club nice and give u-us girls good health care a-and food and a home. It’s used for us.”
“I’m sorry, but that sounds more like manipulation to me than anything else. Hey, give me eighty percent of your income so you can stay poor and never escape this life. And as you continue being dependent on me taking care of your basic human needs, I make money off of you and pretend as if I am doing it for you.”
“Why are you saying this?”
“I’m just saying ___, you and the other girls should earn enough money that you don’t have to depend on your fucking employer to pay for your health care and your food and your home.”
You lower your head, “what should I do? It’s not like anyone wants to hire a twenty five year old prostitute with no educational background or academic knowledge.”
“Quit this job and let me take care of you.”
“What?”
“Quit it, I will take care of you until you know what you want to do. You can go to university and study however many majors you want, you can start an apprenticeship somewhere, you can volunteer or stay at home and do nothing.”
“No”, you shake your head, “no don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s too much”, you say and sit up to roll off him.
Jungkook chases you, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. He drapes his arm across your hips, caressing it softly. He leans down and kisses your naked shoulder.
“Don’t do that”, you hiss, shaking him off.
He blinks and furrows his brows.
“Hey…my love”, he whispers, resting his cheek on your shoulder.
“Get off of me”, you hiss and push him away so harshly that he falls down on his elbows.
“___”, he gasps.
You stare at him.
You can see that it hurt him. His eyes, which are normally so sparkly in the presence of you, become lifeless and sad.
“Sorry for pushing you” now you are panicking because you fear that you went too far with being distant. After all, you didn’t want to actually push him away, you just wanted to keep a little safe distance between you and him, “I don’t know why I did that, sorry", you say and stumble on top of his lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek on his chest.
Jungkook exhales loudly, grinding his teeth.
“Please give me time. I don’t want to quit my job just yet, please.”
Jungkook sneaks a glance at you and blinks quickly to get rid of the burn in his eyes.
“Does that mean that you want to have sex with other men beside me?”
“What?” you lift your head and gawk at him.
“That’s what that means. You have sex for a living ___.”
“I, I”, you swallow heavily, “Jungkook I’m sorry, no it’s, it’s not like that. It’s j-just that I, I”, you grunt and force down a panicky gag, “we can hang on every day”, you try and stare into his eyes.
Holy shit, holy shit. You are so scared and nervous. What are you saying? What should you say? What is happening to you? Why are you so panicky right now?
“Hang?”
You nod your head vigorously, “I make my Wednesday my Bunny day and you can come here a-and then we can meet on other days whenever, except Tuesday and Thursday,.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and looks to the side, “well, that’s…I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you not want to hang?” you gasp.
“Of course I want to”, he pouts, “what the hell? I thought we were seeing each other and now you just want to hang on Wednesdays and whenever.”
“I told you, we can hang on other days too.”
“Don’t call it hanging.”
“Well what else should I call it?”
“Spending time together, seeing each other, being with each other. I don’t know, just not something so casual.”
“Okay then let’s spend time together on Wednesdays and on Saturdays? Then I’ll clear my schedule for you on Wednesday and on Saturday we can do whatever we want to do.”
“Does it really have to be so scheduled? What if I wanted to see you on Friday or Monday or Tuesday?”
“Then you’d have to call Miss Boss and ask her if I’m still available.”
He lowers his head.
“Sorry”, you blurt out panicky, “I work from Tuesday to Thursday, but I’m free any other day. And I make Wednesday your day. Jungkook please”, you say and cup his face.
Now you pushed him away too much. You need to tug him back, keep him close so he doesn’t end up running away. You don’t want to lose him. You really don’t.
“Okay yeah, uhm”, he sneaks a glance your way, “I’ll see what I can do.”
And with that he pushes you off of him, stumbling to the bathroom with his head hanging low.
You stare at the empty doorway, fearing that maybe this isn’t going to be as easy as you believe it would be.
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jiminrings · a day ago
Text
if it isn’t me
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pairing: jungkook x reader
wordcount: 4k
glimpse: protecting jungkook with your life is your job — raising his daughter isn't.
alternatively, jungkook's a single dad for the meantime according to his own words, and lowering down his pride will not stop at anything in begging you to help him with things outside of your paygrade.
[ no applicable warnings!! ]
notes: heh just a silly goofy angsty drabble </3 i got sent an ask abt this trope just this morning and after a few hours of frying my brain and getting the urge to write this, here we are now!! tell me what you think :)
Jungkook always tries to handle more than what he could carry.
If there’s a particular thing he’d pride himself in being good in since he was young, it would be multitasking. He’d want to do everything at once simply because he doesn’t want to spend a minute longer than necessary for a task he can wrap up just as quick.
He carries all the groceries in one trip even if the handles of the bags dig onto his palm and leave a sore pink mark. He’d rather put every item he bought into place rather than sitting on the couch for a minute, wanting to everything get over with before he relaxes.
When Jungkook gets ahold of his scripts, he reads and memorizes the current page and subconsciously highlights the other page just by skimming alone.
He multitasks then he packs his gym bag and his daughter’s diaper bag at the same time, the two of them side by side on the bedsheets he’s going to change out anyway. He takes turns grabbing each of their things from their separate closets, the baby’s growing in quantity each day.
Sunhee’s eight months old now and therefore a little more fussy when she wants her milk wherever, a blubber already in her throat even before her dad could soothe her with back rubs.
Jungkook doesn’t know to the highest extent if everything he does as a father to Sunhee is right because he’s still learning — he continues to learn everyday that he’s with her. The unease and insecurity in his ribs never leave but they would calm down when he sees that she’s happy, even if she spends twenty minutes crying over him holding her cereal the wrong way.
Jungkook knows that he’s doing right when he boils water to the right temperature to put in a tiny thermos he bought specifically for her, then scooping in formula to a tiered container that would just require him to pour down the powder before he shakes the bottle, no measuring and fussing needed.
He recalled scouring baby stores twenty minutes before closing with a hood on his head and sunglasses on his face. He wanted to sniff BPA-free milk containers to ensure safety even if it meant looking suspicious, as long as he knows Sunhee would only have the best and he wouldn’t run the risk of being recognized in a baby store of all places.
He knows he’s doing somehow right when he bring Sunhee to his schedules and sits her on his lap as he rehearses his lines. The two of them are together and Jungkook gets to work at the same time.
She’s not exactly a high-maintenance baby, but she immediately notices when her dad gives her kisses on her cheeks and passes her to Seokjin, a scent she’s somehow familiar to at this point. He’s Jungkook’s manager and one of his most trusted confidants, already a brother to him at this point.
Jin handles practically everything for him and protects him to no end, even from his own staff members that look at his niece a second too long. They’re aware — they are aware of Sunhee.
They’re aware of Sunhee and her chunky bread rolls for limbs, so soft and pure under their loving gazes. Knows about her babbles and the words she’s sometimes able to form from only hearing it a couple of times around set.
They know about Sunhee and how her obvious cuteness and prettiness come from two of her parents. Her parents that are on the big-screen despite appearing separately, known for their incomparable talents and charms.
They know about how the world is for her taking but little miss Sunhee doesn’t quite know about it yet, the wideness and shine in her eyes only making them hope that she’d never lose any of those.
Jungkook knows too. Knows all about how only the few select people in his life are aware that he’s a dad and Sunhee is perhaps the most loving baby there is. He’s thankful to say the least, seeing how if he decides to try and not handle more than what he could carry, there’d be people looking for both him and Sunhee.
Yet if there’s just one particularly bad thing Jungkook doesn’t pride himself in being prone at succumbing to, it would be his state of overwhelm.
He’s overwhelmed whenever Sunhee shrieks at the same time he’s frustrated with his mouthful of lines. She’s pretty early and advanced for her age to even babble and sometimes form audible words, but she’s obviously not an adult Jungkook’s used to communicating with on a daily basis. He can’t be mad at her for being her age seeing to it that she’s a literal baby, but he can’t help himself when his throat gets stuffy because he can’t understand her sometimes.
He’s overwhelmed when he doesn’t know what exactly Sunhee wants. Even if he’s changed her diaper and put rash cream just in case the friction is what bothers her, she still thrashes around. When Jungkook prepares her milk and takes the time to submerge her bottle on a water bath rather than using the instant bottle warmer, she shoves his hand away.
He caves in and tries to coax her to calm down by giving her snacks, and yet the mild sweetness her cereal puffs have that Sunhee would go crazy for in any other situation, is barely glanced upon. Even when he carries her and walks up and down the stairs, even if he takes her outside to get fresh air, or even when he drowns her in loud kisses with the mwah! audible in each one — Jungkook doesn’t know what Sunhee wants and lets her cry it out even if he wants to help, even if he’s alone and overwhelmed.
He gets overwhelmed now when he can’t figure out what Sunhee wants because just from two minutes ago, she wanted to fiddle with the tube of lip balm that her dad gets back from her because she keeps putting it in her mouth. She’s since recovered from her makeshift toy getting taken away from her, but even now that she’s not in her dad’s arms being rowdy, he feels panicked.
He’s engulfed by god knows what when he responds to texts on his phone and sees countless notifications pop up, all of which that revolve around Nari, his girlfriend (put on pause as she suggested) and most importantly, Sunhee’s mom. The articles picture her around filming a drama on the other side of the globe across from where they are, a bright smile on her face that puts a ghost of it on his lips yet at the same time, make him slightly bitter.
Jungkook’s overwhelmed when he whips his head around and sees Sunhee being bounced up on Jin’s arm, clearly happy and in a fit of giggles, all while you stand beside the two of them.
It’s Jin, who loves Sunhee enough to carry and throw her up with his arm even if his wrist is sore and is equipped with a support band, but has given her up to you because for some odd reason, she’d be calm and even more happy when she’s laid in your arms.
Jungkook’s overwhelmed to see you in your casual wear with your earpiece in and Sunhee’s dribble towel slung on your shoulder, placed snugly on your hip where your radio isn’t situated.
He’s overwhelmed but maybe it’s a good type of overwhelmed to see his daughter in his personal bodyguard’s arms — his heart safe and steady to know that she’s protected by you.
If anything, if anyone needs to watch over Sunhee when he isn’t there for her, Jungkook would want you to be her guardian.
For one part, it’s because he knows you could literally shelter her and keep her safe no matter what. He could see it on how you carry her in the same way that you have put one hand on his elbow in walking him through crowds and one hand outstretched to ward away anyone that could get too close to him — it’s dedicated. It’s motivated in a way that their safety is your priority, perhaps maybe even if it isn’t merely your job.
Yet for the other half, it’s because Jungkook trusts you the most.
He trusts you the most when he looks at you with Sunhee in your arms, your other hand responding back to your radio as you entertain her in the same breath by letting her put her hands on the device.
You feel his eyes on you.
Jungkook finds himself chasing after you around the dressing room even if you sternly tell him to go back to his chair and memorize his lines instead, a desperate look on his face once Seokjin left him to talk to the director.
You want to leave the room and yet you know you can’t, instead choosing to take big steps to try and put the most distance between the two of you as much as possible.
His daughter is in her playpen right between the two of you because her dad has chosen to chase you around in circles until he gets you close enough; until there’s only a literal ball pit in between the two of you.
You’re familiar with how he looks when he’s desperate for something.
“Sunhee looks good with you.”
Jungkook doesn’t bother giving yourself a long-winded intro because the two of you have went through this pleading conversation too many times before, the outcome being the same each time.
Sunhee is an endearing baby, that much you’d admit. Bright, wide, and warm eyes just like her dad’s and a contagious laugh, the whole world already within her little fist. You know she’s loved beyond measure when her cries are equally as paining, rather than annoying, to anyone who comes across her.
“Don’t start with me.”
Your words leave you in utter seriousness but if he listens just a tad bit more closely, he’d know that it isn’t a threat — it’s a plead.
Jungkook should know your tone. He’s known it for years. Should know how you could lie through your teeth with precise skill or how you’re able to communicate what’s needed through gazes alone. Knows when he shouldn’t cross the line but he toes it anyways, always for this topic, taking his chances with you.
“You can start with her.”
Your lips purse as an automatic reaction to what Jungkook is going to ask of you again, making you exhale heavily in a way you barely even recognize nowadays.
He seems to have no problem giving you a quip almost instantaneously, the words tumbling out from his mouth as if they’re instinct and no just afterthoughts at this point.
Jungkook told you once, in confidence and in confinement where it’s only the two of you in an elevator and there’s a crowd right outside, that he’s a single dad.
A single dad for the meantime.
He’s been one for almost the entirety of eight months Sunhee’s been born but you don’t know if he realizes it. You don’t know if he knows that he’s been raising her Sunhee like one even before Nari up and told him that she’s going to leave for a little while, planning to make her comeback even if she’s not a year postpartum.
Come to think of it, she wouldn’t be labeled out of postpartum if no one knows anyways that the reason she’s been gone for more than a year is that she was pregnant — that she’s also long been dating Jungkook for three years now and that she’s given birth to her child; that she’s a mother.
No one would know about Sunhee because after all, she is merely a career break worth a year and some months, in Nari’s own words when she’s asked where she’s been in an interview.
You don’t know if Jungkook knows he was practically already a single dad even before Nari suggested a shift for the meantime and he just chokes it down each day.
Four months. Just four more months before Nari comes back to him, to them.
Just four months before Sunhee’s first birthday, four months before Nari comes back in time.
"I'm not supposed to raise her, Jungkook. I shouldn’t be the one.”
You grit throughout your teeth because the shame in your mind overpowers the dwindling endearment in your heart, the rationality sinking into your head even before your emotions starts to float.
“I’m not Sunhee’s mother.”
It’s merely a fact but Jungkook seems to recoil anyway as if you insulted him, chewing on his bottom lip while he looks down on his shoes.
“I know that,” he says gently, looking at you in the eyes before they set downwards to Sunhee who’s in the middle of you, oblivious to the gravity in your conversation that concerns her because her happiness in brightly-colored balls matters more.
Jungkook motions to his daughter, lips set in a straight line as he puts out his hand for her to give a high-five to, the sound ringing in your ears even if the clap was faint.
“But she doesn’t know that.”
Sunhee can look at you either as her mother or not but it wouldn’t matter because at the end of the day, it’s only the concept of one that he hounds for you to take.
“I will pay you triple than what Seokjin could ever pay you,” he’s not oblivious to the fact that Jin hired you solely for your skills and dedication to the job, your work being compensated more than generously. Jungkook also knows that his manager hired you for yourself, unaware at the time of your past relation to your then-job of protecting; him. “What would it take?”
Jungkook is not one to beg.
He’s hardworking, sure. He’s never had anyone pull him and recommend him for the roles and places he’s now a proud titleholder of. He worked from the ground up and made a name out of his own, not one thing behind handed to him.
Yet of all things, Jungkook wants to retain his pride. He wished to retain his pride even if he was merely a rookie and the word no to your director would cost you much more than saying otherwise. He retains his pride even if he used to get treated like dirt as extras in the background, bowing to producers when they make him clean up spills that he isn’t the cause of, but never gets a rag to appease them.
Jungkook loses his pride when it comes to you.
“I just need you to be a placeholder, Y/N. Please.”
You’re out of breath just for even thinking how he could be so selfish of asking such a thing from you out of all the people he could pitch the concept to.
There’s a line-up of girls you’d know that would want to be Sunhee’s placeholder for a mom, even if Jungkook doesn’t come with it in being their partner for the duration.
It’s not within your complete judgement to feel offended but you feel it on your bones anyway. Him asking you to be the personal bodyguard to his eight-month old daughter sounds much better, because after all, its a job.
Jungkook knows it. The two of you know it. There’s a clear difference between asking you to be Sunhee’s protector from being her mom, the first option being much easier if it’s what he asked of you.
The latter is much, much more different and difficult and Jungkook knows it, but he asks you anyway.
“I just need you to be a stand-in for her. Just for a while.”
You are not Nari, nor will you ever be her.
“She’ll come back to me, I know it,” he promises, tilting his head as he tries to get you to tone down your glare on him and hear him out more attentively. “But for now, I’m begging you to be Sunhee’s mother figure. She needs it.”
“I can’t be who I’m not.”
You’re not related to her at all.
You and Jungkook have history between the two of you and Sunhee doesn’t come from yours. She isn’t a part of your history because she’s from Jungkook’s present and future with someone who isn’t you.
Sunhee’s cute. Like her father and like her mother.
She doesn’t look like you nor does she resemble you in any way. When you look at her, you see her parents in her features. Her attitude is her own and yet you wouldn’t entirely know because you weren’t there when she was born, nor do you know of how Jungkook and Nari conversed about their childhood to try and foresee Sunhee’s.
Nari was born at 8 pounds and she foresees that their baby would be born on the heavier side, seeing to it that she started showing early into the pregnancy.
Jungkook gave his mother a hard time and would always kick inside her belly actively, apologizing to his girlfriend in advance because he has a feeling that their daughter would be just like him.
They were both crybabies, and instead of apologizing to each other for the hard loud times they foresee, they laugh it off.
Sunhee isn’t yours. She is of her mother’s and father’s blood and flesh. She’s neither your pain nor your relief. She’s a product of their love.
You are no one to her, as much as she is no one to you.
“You can be her mommy,” Jungkook pleads, bottom lip trembling as his state of overwhelm continues to bubble up, “you can be her mommy for the time-being.”
“Fuck off with that,” you mutter under your breath, jaw clenching in thought if he knows what he’s asking of you. If he knows how selfish he sounds even if what he’s asking of you concerns his daughter and not him solely.
You love Sunhee in the way an aunt would love her niece who she’s never met and resides on the other side of the world. You’re familiar with her and you know her to a degree, but you’re distant. She crosses your mind only when you walk past parents who has the same stroller as hers or when you see babies with the same pair of socks. The thought of her doesn’t come home with you.
“Who are you speaking to?” you scoff, poking your tongue on your cheek in curiosity and anger. “Me, your ex? Or is it me, your bodyguard?”
The two of you have moved on and never even talk about the past the two of you have shared. Your history is older than Jungkook’s relationship with Nari and their daughter and you find no need in bringing it up.
You’re with him because it’s your job, and he’s with you because he’s your responsibility.
Jungkook’s surprised and chokes on nothing when you raise him the question, eyes wide and unblinking before he silently confesses what the two of you know is the truth under his breath.
“Every version of you knows me.”
His tone is defeated even if desperate.
He’s asking in behalf of Sunhee’s sake, even if he sounds selfish by extension.
Jungkook asks you to be Sunhee’s mother for the meantime as your ex; as someone who you once loved the most in your life. He asks you as a friend, a neutral relationship that’s been built from being with him almost everyday. He asks you as his bodyguard, one who’s meant to protect him to no end even if it’s his wellbeing in question, one that revolved around Sunhee.
You merely smile in recollection but there are only two things that fill you up.
Pity, for Sunhee, because at eight months, her supposed mother figure would be you because her real one thinks of her as a mere variable and cause to have a career break.
And feelings, that are all too consuming because Jungkook knows you in this way still, even if he obliterates his pride for the sake of his daughter’s, at the expense of yours. He knows you in this light still; the part where he asks something from you in every version of himself, and he takes a chance for you to answer him in every version of yourself.
You half-heartedly laugh when Sunhee reaches out for you to carry her up, and you do, but you mean it with every fiber of yourself that your flaw is knowing Jungkook in these lights.
“I wish I didn’t.”
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minyfic · 13 hours ago
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angels like you - JJK | M
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↣ show up and dance, that’s what you expected to happen on another insipid Saturday evening that was stolen by your college, what you didn’t expect was a dance partner who was chosen for you without your knowledge.
read another social experiment here ⚘
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: smut, fluff, s2l
word count: 3.8K
warnings/tags: college au, social experiment, dancer!jungkook, dancer!reader, strong language, buff JK aha, explicit smut- dirty talk, biting/scratching, hickeys, car sex, grinding, clit pinching, fingering, edging, pussy slapping, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, riding, protected sex
a/n: just because I keep thinking about social experiments that’ll never happen irl & Jungkook’s abs | The song they dance to is Sin City by Chrishan
Shoving the double doors open, you halt in your step when the sight of a huge partition at the center of the hall greets you.
You haven’t been here for years, but you know well enough that the partition was Mrs. Ahn’s idea.
Sighing, you adjust your gym bag strap on your shoulder and make your way toward Hoseok, whose excitement causes you to groan internally. You set your bag on the bench against the wall and cross your legs as you sit next to him on the cool flooring, loud chatter drowning out any other sound.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” he beams, nudging your shoulder, “are you excited for today?”
Scrubbing your palms down your face, you rest your elbows on your thighs and give him an unenthusiastic nod.
He clicks his tongue, arms on your shoulders, “come on. It’s gonna be fun.”
“Well,” you shrug off his hold, “it’ll be fun for you because you actually liked your routine. I hate mine.”
“You’ve being saying that for the past two weeks, but you literally kill the dance.”
You roll your eyes, “yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”
He taps his chin, “what don’t you like about it?”
“I don’t know,” you fiddle with your shoelaces, “it just feels incomplete. Not the routine…But like, the dance.”
You wave your arms in the air when he shoots you a confused look.
“I don’t know how to explain it!”
This dumb experiment is what caused your recent moods to be so shitty and out of control. Everybody else in your class received their own, fun, show-stopping choreography while you were stuck to practice a mediocre routine that felt…unfinished. The isolations and pauses annoyed you. While Hoseok said that everyone’s routine is different, that didn’t stop you from asking Mrs. Ahn for a new one. She had declined, obviously.
“I wonder if they have the tracks ready,” Hoseok whispers, you follow his line of sight to the DJ on the other end of the stage.
Adding to your irritation, the song that was chosen for you. If you hear it one more time, you might puke all over the stage.
It’s sexy, any other day, you would’ve loved it, but it just added to the feeling that the dance might be lacking.
You have no idea whether this counts toward your portfolio, so you couldn’t make any alterations, or add your own spice to the dance.
“What’s with the partition?”
Hoseok whips his head around to stare at the white, immovable barrier, some students lean against it as they chat.
“I think there’s other students on the other side.”
You narrow your eyes at him, mouth in a frown, “why would they separate us?”
He shrugs, still eyeing the large wall that starts at the edge of the stage and ends at the back of the hall.
“Must be part of the experiment.”
This whole experiment that Mrs. Ahn has been raging on about for a month and a half, without providing proper details, sets an uncomfortable stir in your gut.
Given a song and a routine, you were to prepare for an audience.
The problem is that you have no idea who might be sitting in that audience, who you have the potential to disappoint. A shiver courses along the length of your spine, clenching your fists before going through the insipid routine in your head.
After another ten minutes of speculation between you and Hoseok, Mrs. Ahn emerges from behind the curtain on the stage as it draws open, wearing a hideous poncho.
“Good evening students!”
She receives a phlegmatic response which causes her eyebrows to furrow, although her smile doesn’t falter.
“Ah. I know this must seem like a waste of a Saturday night but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
Your scoff earns a giggle from Hoseok.
When you acknowledge that she’s speaking to both sides of the partition, you surmise that Hoseok was correct.
“Alright, I know me and Mr. Choi,” she smiles at the unfamiliar man who stands behind the DJ, wearing a navy-blue tracksuit, “haven’t given you much to work with, but today’s the day. Why have you been working so hard these past few weeks?”
The students around you straighten their posture, some wearing grins that display their alacrity while others sport the same expression you’ve had for the past hour.
She clears her throat, squinting at the paper supposed Mr. Choi hands her.
“Okay,” she begins, “the aim of this social experiment is to prove the different bonds that can be formed through dance.”
You poke Hoseok’s shoulder, “hasn’t this been done before?”
He hushes you with a dismissive wag of his finger, fixated on Mrs. Ahn as she continues to read.
“But, we’ve given each of you different routines. What you don’t know is that we’ve selected a partner from another college-“ she points to your side of the partition “-college A-“ then the other side “-college B.”
Her loud chuckle causes your heart rate to pick up, interest in the experiment building the more she speaks.
“Who has also been practicing your routine!”
You smack Hoseok’s arm, stomach twisting with nerves. He retaliates with a smack of his own, heart-shaped smile even brighter.
“Now, you must be wondering why this big hunk of plastic is splitting the hall into two. Well, we need to keep you separated until you perform your dance, where you meet and perform together for the first time! You know, so the results of the experiment aren’t affected.”
Hoseok pats your shoulder, “maybe what your dance needed was a partner.”
You blink, not given enough time to process his statement before Mrs. Ahn instructs everyone to warm-up before she starts calling people out to perform.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she grins, “after your performance, you’re free to stay and watch the others or head home. You must report back to me or Mr. Choi. Thank you and I hope you all have fun!”
Spinning around, you see Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows.
“Told you it might be fun.”
You shove his shoulder, rolling your neck and arms, “this was before you knew any of the secret partner shit.”
His head cocks to the side, “yeah, I just know things.”
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It isn’t long before you’re all seated as Mrs. Ahn calls out a name from your college, then the other. You’ve seen Taehyung practice and you know what to expect from his dance, but the look of wonder on his face when he sees his partner, Park Jimin, for the first time, has more nerves fizzing. What would it be like when you see your partner? What would they be like? How would you dance together? Would you even dance together like how Taehyung and his partner seem to mesh into the movements?
By the end of their dance, you can tell that they’d be good friends, if the way Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s hair is any indication. They choose to watch the other students perform and disappear behind the partition, laughter surrounding them.
“Jung Hoseok.”
You pat Hoseok’s bum as he passes you, everyone cheering him on as he makes his way up the stairs and onto the stage, spring in his step as always.
“Lee Eunji.”
All the students fill the air with suggestive ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as they bow and the jaunty theme of their song begins.
Hoseok, being Hoseok, invites her closer to him as they dance, smiles splitting their faces with each of their snappy, practiced movements.
You’re smiling just as wide, thrilled to see him enjoying himself with a complete stranger, how their movements connect, bouncing in the air, sliding into each other.
“Go Hoseok!”
Cheeks beginning to ache, you slip back on the floor when the song comes to a close, palms burning with your applause.
“Would you like to stay and watch or are you heading out?”
Hoseok glances at Eunji, hands on his hips as he catches his breath.
She shakes her head, “we’re heading out.”
Everyone goes delirious, whoops shaking the hall as they disappear behind the curtain.
You’re impatient to hear about Hoseok’s new friend, it’s been a while since his last relationship. Mostly because it fucked him up, and to see him enjoy himself with someone new makes your heart soar.
Broken out of your thoughts, you throat goes dry when you hear your name being called, unfolding your legs as you pad along the wooden floor, corners of your mouth lifting when you see Mrs. Ahn waiting at the top of the stairs.
From the stage, you can see over twenty curious eyes blinking at you, half of them you don’t recognize.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Clenching your fists, the same whoops cause your throat to constrict when you see your partner.
Black shorts and t-shirt, dark blue shirt draped over his broad shoulders, silver earrings, black hair, handsome.
Hot. That’s how you feel as he stands next to you on the stage. Chancing a glance, you catch sight of a dimple in his cheek as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth, bowing when he sees you looking at him.
For a millisecond, you’re rooted to the floor, palms sweaty, mind going blank as his gaze rakes down your figure, pausing on your thighs.
You have a reputation to uphold and as soon as the music starts, you’re swaying, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he mirrors your movements. He’s watching you too, from five feet away.
Sin Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you
Your fingers crawl across your chest, one leg in front of the other as you snap forward, eyes on his movements, just as fluid. He body rolls toward you, and for a split second you forget the next move but cover it up with a bounce of your leg. He seems to catch it, a smirk stretching over his lips as he moves even closer.
Oh you know it, oh you know it Oh you know it Right now
“I don’t bite.” He says, loud enough for you to hear, voice clear and smooth, like his movements, sending a shiver down your spine. Breath beginning to quicken, you spin around to be met with his firm chest. So, your dance was designed for a partner. Everybody’s dance was, but you only notice it when his hand slides under your arm, chest pressed against yours, hooded eyes watching you.
Take that off I just wanna see you Your legs so soft I had to be near you
You twirl around, hair flopping over your face as you bend over, ass out, feeling his legs press into the backs of your thighs. Did…Mrs. Ahn choreograph this dance? Snapping up, left arm in the air, his lips graze your ear as you sink back down, body held up by his, heat radiating off his chest.
Thoughts in mind, going so crazy I just wanna hear you
Too immersed in his scorching stare, you feel him lift you up by the shoulders, spinning you around and guiding your hips to the beat, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His pink lips, doe eyes, silky skin are things you would never see in your wildest dreams. Who would’ve thought that you’d end up meeting a sexy man during this stupid experiment? Not you.
He slings an arm around your waist as you slide down, chin tipping up as you stare at him, light casting an ethereal glow to his face. When you come back up, his lips are a breath away from yours, parted, hot air blowing into your mouth. You gulp, suddenly remembering that you have an audience to please and bounding a few feet away from him, getting back in the groove, but his touch on your waist returns, reminding you that this dance is meant for two.
One touch on your body, what I’ve prepared for you Nothing will spare you
“Running away from me.” He rasps into your ear, eyes on the way your leg slips between his his, palms on his chest. “No,” you breathe, smoothing your hair over your shoulder as you back into him, lips curling into a smirk. He accepts your hips, grinding into you, strong thighs dragging along yours.
Pussy so wet, I feel the drip coming down Must be in Houston
His fingers patter along your back, bringing you flush to his chest as his hand slips under yours another time, legs sliding back as yours slide forward, grinning at each other. You’re lost in his warmth, adrenalin rushing through your veins when he sinks to his knees and crawls forward, jolting back up to stand a few feet behind you.
You close your eyes, you feel the rise, I go inside I’m shooting
Eyes on the crowd now, you repeat the movements from earlier, feeling his stare on your ass when you skip forward and jerk around, hands sliding over your hair and down your sides. You want to entertain him more than anyone else.
Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you
In one swift movement, you’re yanked into his chest again, stumbling a bit as the song ends. Your eyes follow his tongue as it skims across his lower lip, hands resting on his sides, trying to catch your breath, the cheers from the other students are background noise to your thundering heart.
Mrs. Ahn’s signature chuckle causes you to spring away from him, lip caught between your teeth.
“I think we all know your answer,” she winks.
Jungkook glances at you before his hand slips into yours, grabbing his backpack from the corner of the stage, then drags you down the stairs. You scoop up your gym bag, cheeks heating as you pass the other students who yell all kinds of obscene encouragement.
When you bound out of the hall, he’s pressing you into the notice board, head dipping as he speaks.
“I’m Jungkook,” he pants, blinking furiously.
“I know,” you smile, appreciating the glint in his eyes as he stares into yours, seeing a cute mole under bottom lip.
He lets go of your shoulders and scratches behind his ear, glancing at the car park that’s visible through the glass doors at the end of the hallway.
“Do you wanna go—”
“Yeah,” you shuffle down the hallway, hoping things aren’t turning awkward after your electrifying dance.
Wringing your hands, you point to your car that’s parked in the unlit corner of the lot, wondering how he got here.
He follows you wordlessly, chucking his bag in the backseat when you unlock your car.
You grip the steering wheel, staring into the darkness through the windshield, the lights from inside the hall do little to brighten up the area.
In your eighteen years of dancing, you’ve never felt that way, ever, when you danced with anyone. Maybe it was the song, maybe it was the routine itself, maybe it was just him. You don’t know. All you know is that he smells amazing as he presses his forehead to yours, cupping your cheeks, heart skipping a few beats.
“Is this okay?”
Skin erupting in a wave of goosebumps, sweat trickling down your neck, pussy clenching when your eyes meet, you nod, moaning with the first brush of his lips against yours, arms sliding up his toned shoulders to rest on the curves of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his thumb rubs the skin below your ear, tongue slipping into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a shaky sigh, “what the fuck was that.”
“I…” you begin, searching for the correct words as this man, who was a stranger only an hour ago, kisses down your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to stop him because it feels so good.
His eyebrows knit together, wet strands of hair pressing into your forehead, lips connecting once more, as if words are nothing compared to the sparking caresses, the drop your stomach does when he places his hands on your hips, lifting you up onto his lap.
“We just met and I feel…I feel—”
You rock your hips, his erection pressing into your core, moans mixing in the air when you do it again and again, soaking through the material of your leggings.
“Want you,” he chases your lips, hips jerking up, causing a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties when you hear the whine in his voice.
Burying your face in his heated skin, you suckle on the junction between his neck and shoulder, windows fogging up with your heavy breaths, similar to the way lust jumbles any other thought, the knot building in your abdomen with each drag of his cock against your clit, nipping the skin as he grinds into you, hot breath hitting your ear.
“Fuck, if you keep doing that,” he grits, fingers twisting into your hair, a string of curses slipping from his lips as your hips work faster, “’m gonna cum.”
“Want you to cum,” you mewl, pussy clenching when your eyes lock, lips kiss-bitten and slick, the sparkle in his eyes illuminating the dim space.
His palms slide up your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to pause your movements. His eyebrow jumps in question, corner of his mouth quirking up when you hiss as he snaps the band of your leggings.
“Yes,” you sigh, desperate for friction, whimpering when his hand dips into your panties, choosing to slide across your folds, gathering your slick on his fingers.
Your head lolls forward, colliding with his shoulder when his thumb nudges your clit, with his index and middle finger sinking into your heat, gasping out his name as he massages your walls, calloused pads of his fingers dragging along the ridges, his other hand rocking your hips into his palm, thumb rubbing tight circles on your throbbing bud.
He hooks his fingers on the fifth stroke and your pussy squeezes around his fingers, teeth piercing into your bottom lip, so close to the edge.
He places his index finger under your chin, tipping your head up, pupils blown, cheeks flushed.
“Gonna cum?”
You nod meekly, rutting into his hand, knowing your slick must be dripping down his fingers and the stickiness of his hand that rubs against your thigh proves it, blurting out how amazing his fingers feel, how hot you think he is, how good he smells.
His hand is back on your thigh, holding you in place as he fucks his fingers into you ruthlessly, moaning with you when you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming out his name.
“Shit, so tight. Take my fingers so well,” he husks, and much to your dismay, removes his fingers from inside you, placing them flat on your clit, “can imagine how good you’ll feel bouncing on my cock.”
Eyes wide in shock, lips trembling, you bang a fist on his chest from having your orgasm ripped away, pussy clenching around nothing.
He taps your swollen folds twice, pinching your clit with his thumb and forefinger before landing two harsh smacks to your cunt, causing you to tremble, eyes glazing over.
The heavy outline of his cock catches your eye, fingers snaking down his side to squeeze it in your palm, relishing in the way his Adam’s apple bobs as his head hits the seat, mumbling out your name.
“Take it out.”
You don’t process his words until his eyes snap open, staring at you through his lashes.
Tugging on the band of his shorts, you pull it over his meaty thighs, salivating at the glistening tip of his thick cock, precum smeared along the head.
He cups your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as he reaches behind him with his other his hand, unzipping the front compartment of his backpack, producing a condom.
You’re stock still under his fiery gaze, firm grip on your jaw keeping your eyes on him as he rips open the condom packet with his teeth, spitting out the piece of foil that got into his mouth. That shouldn’t be hot, but here you are, pussy ready to be split open by his girthy cock that twitches when you lick your lips.
His eyes dart to your leggings and you scramble to pull it off your legs, struggling for a bit before he helps you, useless fabric being thrown in the back seat.
Eyes still on yours, he pushes your panties to the side, covering his fingers in your slick before popping the digits into his mouth, a whimper bubbles from your lips at the sight. He points to his cock with his big doe eyes, licking his fingers clean.
With shaky fingers, you grip the base of his cock and lift your hips over his length, slit positioned over the blunt tip, eyes watering as you sink down, loud moans echoing in the stuffy space.
Fully sheathed in your heat, he wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you into his chest as he pistons his hips, cock lodged deep inside you with each pleasurable drag.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he pecks the side of your head, speaking through gritted teeth as you lose yourself on his cock, bouncing weakly, ass rippling when your skin slaps against his.
Walls closing around his length, you jolt when he brushes that sensitive spot inside you, hands slipping into his hair as you chase your high for the second time tonight, clit rubbing against his pelvis, drenching his lap with your arousal.
“Fuck, bounce on my cock baby. Come on.”
Fulfilling his breathless request, you place your hands on his shoulders and lift your hips faster, spasming on each thrust, thighs burning, more sweat pooling under your shirt, nails forming crescent moons on his skin, groaning out his name when your abdomen knots impossibly tight.
When he tugs on your hair, massaging your scalp straight after to soothe the burn, teeth clamping down on your earlobe, you cum, seeing stars behind your lids, hips still working as you ride out your high, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, immersed in the burn, mind going hazy.
Cheek resting on his shoulder, you cry out as he continues to slide into your throbbing hole, laying limp in his hold as he spills into the condom, blurting out his own praises.
A satisfied sigh leaves your swollen lips, nuzzling into the soft material of his shirt. You never would’ve thought that tonight with end this way, with an attractive, beefy guy kissing the top of your head, sniffing through your hair.
Bodies stuck together, hissing when his cock slips out of you, he runs his palms down your back, index fingers resting in the dip. You could fall asleep in his warm embrace but the next thing he says has your eyes snapping open.
“Should we…report back now?”
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a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)
talk to my characters
⤺Masterlist
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365 @sweetonkookieandtae
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pjmaparty · 2 days ago
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Prey for me | jjk (teaser)
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➵ pairing: assassin!jk x assassin! reader
➵ genre/trope: s2l, um well they have to kill each other lmao, angst ig, fluff that doesn’t exist, suggestive, violence, profanity.
➵ word count: 0.6k +
➵ a/n: yeah this teaser is for me so that I finish this fic lmao. The spacing is all weird on the app im sorry T_T
my betas who I love to death @joyfulhopelox @taecup-ontrack/ @taecup-fics
Taglist open!
There were pictures of you everywhere. Red yarn making a path across the entire board. Jungkook traced it slowly, from a picture of you taken in Venice to one taken in Volgograd. To the untrained eye, there was no pattern. But Jungkook was anything but. He could see the gleam in your eyes standing in the queue for the gondola, could see the shimmer of mischief as you eyed the old man in front of you like a predator. The politician was 45 and oblivious to the evil incarnate boring her eyes into his skull.
Jungkook trailed his fingers further down, to a picture of you in Osaka, walking down the busy street like you owned it. Blue contacts, blonde wig; you were unrecognisable. But not to him, he’d been tailing you for far too long to not catch the familiarity of your features. He smirked, impressed, as he looked at the picture of what you had done in the street in the next picture; a drug lord who went by the name of Hoshina lying in the corner of the street like a rag doll, exactly how he treated his victims. To a passerby it would look like a homeless man, sleeping on the sidewalk. Few would realise the horrors done to him. His neck snapped, the open stab wound near his abdomen from which trails of blood flowed, concealed by the night. He looked at another picture, another man who had the veins in his jugular cut off to exsanguinate his heart. The cuts were neat, precise, there was a beauty to them, an art that only you and him could appreciate.  He was fascinated by you of course, which made the chase even more fun for him.
You were an assassin, and he lived to assassinate your very species.
It was a pairing made to amuse the seven circles of hell, their very own comedy. And they were gonna be delivered one hell of a show.
There were pictures of him everywhere. From one in a random corner in Paris to another in Hungary. You sat transfixed in sheer admiration. Your eyes trailed over his bulging bicep as he throttled one of your colleagues. You couldn’t care any less, he was a sick bastard, if Jungkook hadn’t killed him, you would’ve. You traced the red yarn away from him and toward the pictures of all the assassins he had assassinated. It seemed like a sick joke. There was nothing known about him, nobody knew who he worked for, who paid him. There were no records of him, nothing. He didn’t exist on a paper trail. There were no blueprints of him, no ID’s. No database had anything worthy of him on it. Except you. You knew who he was, you knew what he did. You knew where he was going to be next. Albeit you didn't gather this information yourself, it was yours. You had no idea who you worked for either. There were flashbacks of course, nightmares even. You remembered the academy, the torture. Then there was a woman, her pearly whites gleaming at you. You were given an apartment, an envelope with a name, and a wad of cash. Years later, you’re at again, in a breezy apartment in Rome. Jungkook’s name in your hands, a ticket to Seoul and enough cash for you to buy a castle. The money didn’t matter, well it didn’t in his case. It was comparable to giving a historian a map to all the answers he ever looked for. The money didn’t matter, this was your quest, and a damn fun one at that.
Two broken assassins sat continents apart, holding each other's name in hand. It could’ve been fate, or some poorly executed joke; or maybe they were interchangeable. Only time would tell.
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onlyswan · a day ago
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summary: “you can lean me. you can always lean on me.”
genre: fluff
warnings: mention of skipping meals (not on purpose) and mental struggles due of the pandemic
word count: 1.6k
note: struggling so bad with online classes so i’m using my rare free time to complain n cry about online classes :DD
jungkook comes out of the bathroom with only his boxers on after blowdrying his hair, excited to finally get some well deserved rest and end the day with you in his arms. however, his face drops when he is greeted by your back against him.
“babe, i thought we were getting ready for bed?” he pouts, approaching your slouched figure on the desk. the sounds of your fast fingers typing away on the keyboard is oddly satisfying, but it’s past midnight on a tuesday and you both need to wake up early.
“what? yeah- yeah, we are. let me just finish this real quick. an idea popped in my head while i was putting on lotion.” you respond absentmindedly, afraid to lose your train of thought. this essay has been a big problem for the past few days. the words just aren’t coming to you and it’s very frustrating. you can’t miss this chance of finally making progress. or else you will cry. and throw things out the window. and you live pretty far up high so nothing will survive the fall.
your boyfriend sighs, leaning his chin on your shoulder as he watches the word count go up and down and up up up. he knows you won’t be able to sleep properly if you don’t finish your task anyway. your sudden bursts of inspiration should never be interrupted. learned that the hard way.
“you work so hard, baby. i’m so proud of you.” he says quietly in your ear, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.
you pause, swallowing thickly. you force a smile and mutter a small thanks before resuming with your work. you don’t see the frown that forms on his lips. he wraps his arms around your waist which makes typing require a little more effort, but you don’t have it in your heart to shoo him away.
jungkook requires a lot of love and attention. who are you to deny your boyfriend of that? besides, you needed it anyway. you don’t even know how you’ve been getting through each day. you’re swamped with works that you’ve been unintentionally skipping meals and getting inadequate amount of sleep. you try to get everything done as early as possible because missing a deadline is your biggest fear. you can’t afford the deduction especially if your work is already ass to begin with. done is better than perfect. that’s what you tell yourself these days. it helps. most times.
it’s been almost two years since the pandemic started and the time before that started to become a blur to you, but you can almost swear that you don’t remember face-to-face classes being half as difficult as this. you still had a life outside of school. you think. you managed your time better and you made sure you could do the things you enjoyed. most of those things you’re not allowed to do anymore, though. unfortunately, what kept your will to live mostly consisted of lots and lots of people.
you don’t absorb information over online discussions very well. it doesn’t feel right. there’s no connection. speaking into your classmates’ ears doesn’t sound fun either. to add to that, you’re not really close with anyone. you’ll just have to make it through the school year all on your own somehow. whatever it takes . . . our best, that’s all we can really do in life, right?
your hands drop on the sides of your keyboard in exhaustion. “jungkook,” you croak out. “i’m so tired.”
his heart drops to his stomach at the sound of your voice breaking. “i figured. your shoulders are so tense.” he presses kisses all over the exposed skin of your shoulder. “it’s okay, baby. you can lean on me.” you melt into the warmth of his body as you finally give up on school works. you’ve done your best today. you need to preserve the remaining parts of yourself (or so you hope there still are) so you can fight again tomorrow. “you can always lean on me.”
he spins your chair around to face him before crouching down on your level, cupping your face with his hands. “you’re overworking yourself. i’m getting so worried. you should take care of yourself more, hmm?”
“sorry. it’s like a requirement to graduate. i won’t make it unless i give it everything i got.” you avoid his eyes, feeling tears forming in your own. “everything just sucks and it feels like if i can’t do this then what the fuck is there that i can do? and most of the time i don’t know what i’m doing anymore. i feel like the dumbest person in the room.” you pause and laugh dryly. “well, virtual classroom.”
“that’s not true at all! you got accepted by the university because they know you are capable of great things. and i was amazed just now watching you work on your essay because the flow is smooth and your words demand attention and piques curiosity. i’ve never found that topic interesting but now i understand better why you chose this track.” he smiles at you sweetly, wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. you look at him as if he filled the oceans with only his hands and painted the clouds that are floating in the sky and it makes butterflies errupt in his chest.
“you are doing amazing, okay? and i’m so proud of you. but at the same time, i don’t want you to think that this is all there is to life now. i know the world outside is bleak, but there are still things we can do. you don’t have to be seated here suffering physically and mentally every second of everyday. we can learn how to play an instrument, how to bake or knit. we can spend a whole day learning all the pretty ways how to fold table napkins or we can repaint all the walls in our apartment. they might be silly or simple things, but we can make it fun and meaningful. don’t you think?”
you know he’s been having a hard time, too. you’ve been a witness of that. the pandemic took away many things from all of us, after all. performing means the absolute world to him. he looks the happiest when he is on stage. you know those galaxies in his eyes all too well. however, he still chooses to look at life with a positive mindset. that spring comes after winter ends. he greets you warmly every morning and you call him sunshine.
you smile genuinely for the first time in days. jungkook thinks you look cute, with your puffy eyes and bare face. “those things do sound nice. except the walls part. that just sounds tiring. do you even realize how big your apartment is?”
“okay, maybe just one room. i was trying to sound spontaneous!” he laughs, slapping his forehead in embarrassment. “and it’s our apartment.”
“sorry, sir. our apartment.” you hum in agreement. you pull his hand away and force him to come closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck. “save my work then turn it off, please. then carry me to bed.” you nuzzle your face on his skin sleepily, seeking physical comfort more than anything. “you always smell nice.”
he does as you said, shutting down your laptop and scooping you in his arms. “you’re always all up on me one way or another so i always need to smell nice, too.”
“true and false. you just like smelling nice, because you have a cute sensitive nose.” you squeeze his nose playfully, earning the adorable scrunch you adore.
“true. but i also like smelling nice for you now.”
you avoid laying down because it makes you want to just stay in bed and skip classes, so you almost burst into tears again when your back hit the soft mattress. one of the best feelings in the world. then your boyfriend rolls over you onto his side of the bed.
“ouch! you are such a kid.” you whine about the three seconds you were unable to breathe because of his weight crushing you.
“you love me anyway.” he grins. he stretches out his arm and you lay your head over his biceps almost on instinct. he also puts his leg as far up your waist and basically hugs on you like a koala does on a tree. you might joke around about it every now and then, but in all honesty, he makes you feel safe and protected.
“i do love you so much. you keep me happy and sane and strong.” jungkook leans down and gives you an eskimo kiss, “and you are the same to me.” before giving you a proper kiss on the lips at last. your fingers thread through his hair and only him consume your thoughts and senses. your body feels light and heavy at the same time. he tastes so sweet and you’re addicted. you both pull away with hooded eyes and deprived lungs gasping for air.
“babe, you know how when you watch a movie and you get this sudden surge of inspiration to write lyrics rush through you because it got you in your feelings?” you ask out of the blue as if you didn’t just had a hot makeout sesh.
“yeah?” he hazily responds, hands carressing your waist under your night dress.
“we should watch a movie tomorrow!”
“oh?” he raises an eyebrow. “that sounds nice-”
“except it’s a documentary!”
“wha-”
“and instead of a song we’ll write a reflection paper together! like a collab. i can’t add you to the credits though. i will get in trouble.”
he opens and closes his mouth like a fish, looking at you dumbfounded. “if you fail it’s not my fault.”
“then i drop out. just get me a job at hybe, will you? like a water girl, perhaps? or i can dogsit yeontan or holly?”
note: this is jus me typing down whatever comes into mind ^_^ i am very tired but i also am thinking of jungkook i jus had to okay not proofread i’m dozing off zzzz
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 12 hours ago
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if I can never give you peace — Interlude || Jungkook
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[Moodboard by @jeonlovescoffee​ ]
Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 4k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers
↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.
Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fights and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.
Until he comes back.
Warnings and tags (chapter): descriptions of violence, past toxic relationship, coarse language.
First · Previous · Next
A/N: In case there’s any confusion, this chapter is a look at parts of chapter 5 from the perspective of Jungkook. I hope you enjoy it!
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Blonde hair that cascade down, brushing against his collarbones, as long, delicate fingers ghost over his jaw. Curious blue eyes that he wants to drown into. Thin lips that curl into a fond smile, then open for silent laughter.
“You’re so beautiful, Jungkook,” the lips say, and his heart leaps, but his stomach sinks. Still he can’t linger on it, not when all the sensations are so overwhelming.
“Anna,” the voice he hates the most says, a voice naive and young and stupid, a voice that’s hopelessly in love and doesn’t understand anything that’s happening to him, “Anna, I love you.”
The lips part in surprise, and the eyes soften.
“Oh, Jungkook. I love you too.”
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Jungkook wrenches himself out of bed and stumbles through the room. Everything in his head is fuzzy, but he knows he needs to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth and of the phantom feelings that linger after the dream. In that moment, he lets his body and his instincts guide him to the sink in his bathroom, without trying to make sense of anything.
The water he splashes on his face manages to wake him up, but nothing has been able to erase Anna’s face from his mind since he last saw her, and he groans when he realizes it’s all still there. He holds onto the sink, grip tight, trying to control himself. He wants to break something, and the mocking look his reflection gives him isn’t helping.
What the fuck’s wrong with him?
There’d been no issue, the day he’d killed Mr. X. He remembers, vividly, the feeling of power he’d had that day, when he’d felt nothing looking at her, when he’d known that even if she’d discarded him and forgotten him long ago, now he was the one who held her life in his hands. It had been almost intoxicating to know that after all that she’d done, after all the pain that younger, dumber version of him had suffered because of her, he was the one who would get the final word.
And then he’d let her go, because he could. Because that was the amount of power she had on him. Because he didn’t even care for revenge.
At least, that’s what he’d told himself then. He couldn’t understand the way you and Yoongi had looked at him, where your wariness came from.
He did now.
A growl forms in the back of his throat, and the urge of smashing his mirror, just so he doesn’t have to keep looking into his own eyes, becomes difficult to control. The sharp pain it would bring would no doubt distract him — but it would be too brief. He needs something more.
Of course, he can’t get that right now. He has to get through the schedule you sent him, at 9 am sharp, as you do every morning when the two of you don’t meet. Not because you told him to — maybe it was a bad idea to make you in charge of that, maybe it’s a little too reminiscent of how his life used to be, maybe it only makes him angry at you, even if you’re technically at his beck and call now — but because it’s what needs to be done.
Because, as it turns out, it’s not all just for show. You are good at what you do. Even he has to admit, begrudgingly, that you’re not trying to control him, just telling him what’s best to do for the sake of his business.
He thinks he’d like it better if you didn’t. Then that unpleasant, guilty feeling wouldn’t manage to creep its way into his chest when he’s trying to be a dick to you. Then it would be easier for him to tell himself that you’d bring him down in a heartbeat if you got the chance.
He shakes his head at the mirror. He doesn’t like to dwell on those considerations. They don’t say anything interesting, and they certainly don’t help him come to a conclusion. He’ll see later, decide then what he’ll do with you.
In the meantime, he’s got shit to do.
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Stepping foot inside the Circle feels like coming home.
There’s probably something fucked up about that, Jungkook’s well aware of it, but still, when he’s there, he can feel himself calming down. He’s never afraid before stepping in the ring. All he feels is the calm before the storm — a storm he’s about to bring down on anyone who dares stand in front of him. He uses the few seconds before the fight starts to size up his opponent, and that’s all he needs for his body to know what to do.
When the man facing him lurches forward, Jungkook’s already gone. His feet are light, his hands lightning fast. He’s pleasantly surprised when the guy manages to correct his trajectory and hit him with his leg, a blunt hit against his thigh that barely registers, but he knows this fight won’t be enough. He’ll be there for a long time tonight.
As if to remind him of why he came, the memory of how crushed he was when Anna didn’t show up to his first fight, and how he’d shattered when she wasn’t at the hospital where he woke up afterwards flashes through him. The feelings are long gone, but the memory of the pain still makes him wince.
He needs to get her out of his head.
The man lands another punch, this time in his ribs. Victory flashes on his face, but that only lasts a second, until he realizes that Jungkook isn’t stepping away. Instead, he takes the hit, welcoming the distraction with open arms, and uses the opportunity to close the gap between him and his opponent and deliver a merciless blow that sends the guy reeling back.
That gives Jungkook an opportunity, but he doesn’t take it. Instead he’s hopping from one foot to the other.
“That all you’ve got?” he shouts, and the crowd screams. If you were there, you’d probably be nodding your head. You always said he was a good showman.
But you’re not standing in your usual corner, and what you think doesn’t matter anyway.
“C’mon,” he eggs the other man on, a smirk on his lips. “I bet you can’t even land one.”
The man rushes forward, screaming, and Jungkook dodges it easily. Dude has got to be a rookie, if he lets that stuff get to him so easily.
Kinda like him when—
“Hey, I hope you’ve got something better in store for me tonight,” Jungkook comments to the ringmaster standing outside the cage as he walks towards him, blatantly turning his back to his opponent. “’Cause that’s really terrible.”
He’s not surprised when another body crashes into his. Maybe now, that guy will make this worth his time. Maybe he’ll have to wait for the next one. It’s fine either way.
He’s got all night.
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Jungkook hadn’t planned on passing out on the bathroom floor of some stupid bar, but all things considered, it wasn’t the worst place he could end up in. He can’t say he doesn’t have some responsibility there. He’s the one who started a fight with those three assholes, even when he was already bruised and battered and couldn’t quite stand straight.
Sure, they said something about his ears, but if he was honest, he’d admit that he didn’t give a fuck. He knows how to pick his battles better than that, and that one was a fucking stupid one. Those guys didn’t stand a chance, even with him in that state. The one who broke a bottle on his head had at least given him something to deal with. His ears had been ringing, head spinning, but he’d still managed to kick them out before he’d stumbled to the bathroom.
Distantly, he hears the door opening, but he doesn’t stir. He doesn’t have the energy for that, but he can’t not be aware of his surroundings. He always knows what’s going on around him.
Footsteps get closer, and there’s a voice, too, but he still doesn’t move. Can’t find the strength to open his eyes. No need to anyway. No threat.
“Mr. Jeon?”
The voice and the person are close now, but he’s still not moving. That’s not a name he recognizes. Mr. Jeon is like a coat he puts on. It’s not him.
“Jungkook?”
Finally, it reaches him. When he, painfully, opens an eyelid, there’s a small part of him that wonders if he’ll see Anna’s face, but the truth is, he knows.
Because you’re always the one looking at him.
He doesn’t feel any surprise when he sees you kneeling by his side. He thinks he catches a spark of concern in your eyes, but it vanishes immediately, and he groans, closing his eyes again. What a stupid fucking thought. Thinking — hoping — you care is a mistake he promised himself he would never make.
As he comes to, pain catches up with him. It’s not the sharp pain of the recently inflicted blows, but a dull, constant throbbing, and it’s everywhere, overwhelming his senses.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he still manages to slur, even if the simple act of moving his jaw sends him into a world of agony.
“I was called by the owner of the bar,” you answer flatly.
Fucker. Why did he have to call you, of all people?
“Guess I’ll have to kill him,” Jungkook mumbles.
“I’m going to offer him free protection from now on, actually,” you say.
He wants to smile at that. You’re such a pain in the ass, but he can’t find it in himself to get angry right now. He doesn’t have the energy to do that. Nor does he have the energy to move the impossibly sore muscles of his face. In fact, he doesn’t have the energy to—
“Can you stand?” you ask, voice snapping him awake again. “I’ll get you home.”
He sneers. Back in the days, he knew that that behavior of yours was a way of protecting an investment, of making sure your property wouldn’t be too damaged and would make it home safely. He thinks he can still find a hint of that right now.
“You still act like you own me,” he spits out. He doesn’t know what he wants to accomplish with that. What he knows is that the way you answer — immediately, without batting an eye, without even considering what he said — isn’t it.
“I never owned you,” you just say, like that has anything to do with anything. “Can you stand, or do I need to get someone to carry you outside?”
Sometimes, you really fucking get on his nerves. Almost make him regret that he hasn’t gotten rid of you yet.
He doesn’t bother answering you. Instead, he slowly pushes himself to his feet. His ribs are killing him, each breath painful. His muscles are screaming in pain, protesting what he’s putting them through. He feels you hover behind him, like you want to help, but you end up doing nothing.
Story of your life, probably.
“Can you walk?” you ask once he’s somewhat stable on his feet.
He ignores you and your stupid questions. What matters isn’t whether or not he can, it’s that he will, and the answer to that is obvious, because pain has never stopped him before, which you know damn well. Instead, he starts to limp towards the door. He has to focus on each step he takes so he doesn’t collapse when the pain shoots through him at every single movement he makes.
Honestly, if you hadn’t shown up, he doesn’t think he would have gotten up tonight.
He barely registers that he’s making it through the bar. He just focuses on his movements, eyes on his objective, until, finally, he feels the fresh air of the night on his face.
You’re only a few steps behind him then, and you walk by him to wordlessly open the taxi door for him.
It’s annoying. Everything you’re doing tonight seems to be annoying. It gives him an unpleasant feeling, making his chest tighten and something bubble in his lungs and throat.
But it’s too late and he’s way too fucking tired to think about it.
Later, maybe. If he remembers.
If he feels like it.
He’s nodding off when you get in the taxi, and he forces himself to keep his eyes open. He knows it’s just stupid pride that stops him, especially around you, someone who’s seen him beaten an inch from death before, but that almost makes it worse. He doesn’t want you to see any trace of his former weaknesses. They’re supposed to be in his past now.
You lean toward the driver to give him an address, which Jungkook recognizes as his. He’s pretty sure he never gave it to you, but you don’t look at him when he sends you a questioning glance.
He wonders if that would be grounds to get rid of you, based on the loose terms he’d thought of, but his mind is too fuzzy for that, pain occupying far too much of it, and he supposes he can let it slide, for now.
Next to him, you pull out your phone and start typing on it furiously.
You’ve always done that. You rarely give phone calls in front of him. He’s not sure why.
Then, you cross one of your legs over the other, skirt hiking up, and there’s no way for him to miss the skin it reveals. You don’t seem to notice at all — not the skirt, not his eyes following the movement. You’ve never noticed those things, just like you don’t notice the way men react to them. He’s seen you shoot down flirting attempts with such detachment he’s convinced you didn’t even realize what was happening.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it satisfying. Because back then, just like now, there’s one word spinning in his mind as he looks at you, one he tries to ignore, but that never completely vanishes when you’re around.
Tempting.
You’re tempting. Unattainable, sure, out of his reach, even when you’re sitting less than a meter away from him, but still… Tempting. Sometimes, when you’re standing too close to him, he wonders what would happen if he just gave in. What it would feel like to run his hand over that thigh. What kind of noise you’d make when he’d kiss you. What you’d look like, flushed, panting, lips swollen, body shivering under his touch, legs—
Fuck.
He’s not supposed to think about that. Even if there’s something kind of intoxicating about your smell, even if it fills the small car, and even if, tonight, it would be so easy to act like you’re not actually a cold, uncaring bitch.
He’s never been as thankful to get out of a car in his life.
Except you follow him, because of fucking course you do.
“What are you doing?” he asks — groans — while you ask the driver to wait for you. He sees you tensing briefly, but he might as well have imagined it, because there’s no tension when you turn around.
There’s not anything when you turn around.
“Making sure you get home, Mr. Jeon,” you say evenly. “You look like you could collapse any second.”
He rolls his eyes and blatantly turns his back to you. He’d like to just leave you there, but you have no problem keeping up with him when he starts to walk towards his building.
“Still worried about my image?”
He hates the way he sounds when he says that. Petty and childish. He shouldn’t engage with you. The goal was to make you lose your shit, not him.
That’s gone over really fucking well so far.
“Worried about your safety, Jung— Mr. Jeon.”
You sound almost annoyed, and normally he’d mark that as a small victory, but he doesn’t miss your slip up. He can’t. It makes him tense, and he has to wonder if it’s because you think less of him tonight. He’s sure — he’s convinced — that you would never, not in a million years, have made that mistake with Mr. X.
But then, you continue.
“This isn’t— I’ve heard about how your fights usually go. You don’t usually end up in this— state.”
Your rhythm is off, and that is far more noticeable to him than anything else. You’re struggling. Maybe it’s because you fear for your life, think that if you cross him on those things again, he’ll attack you again. But he’s not feeling like attacking you right now. He just— doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get you.
None of that is very interesting to him, anyway. Another time, he’d get a kick out of going off on you, but right now, even if he’s not going to let the opportunity slide, he can’t say he enjoys it fully.
“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” he finally comments. He gets a sense of satisfaction, though it doesn’t look like you care all that much. Not that he thought you would.
He leans against the cold wall of the elevator. As far he’s concerned, this conversation is over. He’s done with the day, and he’s certainly fucking done with you.
And then you say, “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
He opens his eyes to look at you. Your lips are drawn into a tight line, and there’s a rush to your words, like you had to say them fast or your might not say them at all.
“What?”
“I don’t understand why you keep— Back then, I told you about Mr. X’s plan because I wanted you to escape. I planned your escape with you. I bought you time, and now you’re alive.”
Blood’s rushing through him, beating loudly in his ears. No. No. He can’t do this now, doesn’t want to hear you say that. Doesn’t want to listen to all his instincts telling him that you sound like this matters to you. Telling him that you’re telling the truth. He can’t— That can’t be true.
So he does what he does best. He attacks. To get you to shut the fuck up, to convince himself that he isn’t wrong about you, to keep thinking that you, of all people, didn’t care more for him than—
“You did the bare fucking minimum to make yourself feel better,” he snarls at you. Everything he has left, all the rage that fueled him tonight, everything comes out in that moment. “So you could pat yourself on the back afterwards, and if I didn’t make it, well, too fucking bad for me. At least you tried, right?”
The surprise and confusion that flash on your face are not what he wanted to see. The way you look at him— You look at him like he’s not making any sense. Like you almost feel sorry for him.
“That’s not what happened,” you say. You’re not trying to defend yourself, and that makes it far worse. Your voice is soft and quiet. If you'd yelled at him, protested he was wrong, maybe he could have kept this going. But this— This is the worst thing that could happen. “What you’re saying— That’s just not true. I never thought of— I didn’t do it for me. I just wanted you to live.”
All he can do is stare at you. He thinks about how this had to happen tonight, of all nights. Not that he’d have listened any other time, but right now, it doesn’t feel like he has anything to retort to that. He’s been so angry, for so long. He doesn’t know what he can do without it.
He just might collapse.
“I don’t believe you,” he says, because he has to.
All he wants to do now is to get away from you. He’s sure all of this will be gone in the morning. He’ll be able to go back to who he normally is, and you won’t be acting as weird. But you clear your throat, and when he turns around to look at you, he notices that you’ve straightened up. He hadn’t paid attention to that change earlier. It’s obvious that you’ve already gone back to your normal self.
Looks like you’re better at this than he is.
“There’s a doctor coming here,” you say. Your voice is flat and even and steady, and he’s almost thankful for it, and for the way you’re intervening in his life without asking for permission. Because he thinks he may be able to go back to hating you now. “A mouse hybrid. You should let her in.”
It’s almost considerate. If he was more naive, he might buy into it. Instead, he tells himself that you’re just saving your ass, that you work for him and that, since you’ve put effort into that— partnership, you want to see them pay off. He tells himself that he just doesn’t have the energy to fight you on that. It’s not that there’s a part of him that desperately wants you, someone, anyone from his past to have given a fuck about him, and that that part’s able to rise to the surface right now.
His shoulders fall. Okay. You’ve won this round.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Jeon,” you say with a sharp nod.
No more slip-ups.
“Whatever.”
And then you’re gone.
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The doctor’s— fine, or whatever. Jungkook would be lying if he said he enjoyed getting treated for anything. Doctors always have that way of looking at him disapprovingly, and sure, he may have fucked up a little tonight, but that’s none of their fucking business. Even when his job was to get the crap beaten out of him, they would tell him to “be more careful”. And you’d be there, in the back of the room, a thoughtful look on your face. Not worried. Thoughtful. Like the emotionless bitch you are.
He remembers how you’d introduced him to a trainer after his first fight, and how there was that tiny part of him that had thought you were doing something kind. Before you’d told him that he needed to get better at fighting in order to bring in money for the Family.
The painkillers are starting to take effect as he ruminates, and Jungkook barely makes it to the bed. He collapses on it, an impact that’s probably not good for his body, but who gives a fuck?
He certainly doesn’t.
His tired mind wonders why he was even doing all of that. It takes him a while to remember it was about Anna, but that seems so far away now, which means the day was a success. He supposes all that happened was that you replaced her, but you’re not quite as— crushing to think about.
And when you’re the last thought on his mind before he falls into deep slumber, he’s, at least, not cursing himself for it.
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Tagging: @chaiwivluv​ @mintyrae​ @btswdwsmhrdt​ @xxqueenwxtchxx​ @fekitza​ @kimmieloveswho​ @deeepvibes​ @lonleycoffee​ @gookiebts​ @kpop-baka​ @taecallsmenoona @mimiinluv @dabbingangels​ @capriciouscapsss​ @jooahchu​ @mrcleanheichou​ @heartbreak-is-temporary @damned-fangirl​ @jeonlovescoffee​ @haechans-sunflower​ @indiesy​ @tinyhoagiepartylover @gukieater​ @j-koookies @yoongi-bias​ @kaleidoscars​ @xxminilah​ @fangirl125reader​ @xthefuckerysquaredx​ @chimchoom​ @cjisbored @ratherbefangirling @finelinememories​ @agustdjoon​ @incessantcosmos​ @kookayparadise​ @unicornbabylover​ @iamscharene​ @kokoandkookie​ @mwitsmejk​ @namjeonii​ @justzeera​ @syviis​ @eclectictacozinewobbler​ @zae007live​ @justvibingsblog​ @kianamj​ @psychogia​
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minayuri12 · 2 days ago
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Runaway bride- Series Masterlist
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Pairing - Mafia Jungkook x Artist female OC
Genre - Mafia AU | Arranged marriage au | Angst, Mature | strangers to lovers | kind of enemies to lovers | Romance |
Type - Series
Word count - 350 words
Series Warnings - Violence, murder, blood, illegal shit, arrange/force marriage, asshole father, abusive father, JK is mean, Angst, future fluff and smut, Unrequited love, toxic parents, child neglect, weapons, drugs, sexual explicit  content, mafia, misogyny, sexism, toxic standards, Dom Jungkook, sub OC, rough sex, degradation, pet names, rich Jungkook, rich OC, fake people.
Summary - A man such as Jungkook was unpredictable, untouchable and brutal. Marrying him wasn’t a part of your bucket list and neither was falling for him in your unloving marriage.
Taglist: @yeoreos , @underoosgirlsworld , @shaybeans , @fashionmindedthings , @bobbyah​ , @helenazbmrskai​
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MASTERLIST
Teaser
Chapter 1
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likeastarstar · a day ago
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6:00 PM- Jungkook
(A/N: this is connected to 9:20 PM, you may need to read it for context but your choice! Feedback is always appreciated!)
Being in love with you was like taking care of a cat. You found yourself to be finicky, unpredictable with your newly exposed emotions. You were used to hiding them, shoving them so far deep inside of you, it was hard to register what they were for yourself. It felt like Jungkook had seemingly made his way into your soul and you found yourself warming up to him the same way a cat would- with reluctancy and fear.
You told him about your comparison to a feral feline, warmth spreading in your chest when he laughed fondly at you. You watched his nose scrunch up and his shoulders push forwards, smiling to yourself with pride that you made him laugh. You liked that you were able to make him happy, to make him smile.
“It’s a good thing I like cats,” He smiled, placing a hand on your hair and smoothing your hair down, stopping at the base of your neck and pulling you down towards him.
He was laying on your bed with you seated beside him with your legs folded under you. Jungkook had spent almost everyday with you since the day he decided he was going to crack through your facade of placid neutrality in front of others.
“Seriously,” You mumbled, stopping yourself just shy of kissing him. Your nose grazed against his and your smile widened when he nuzzled it against you impatiently, “You put up with a lot- thank you.”
“You’re a passion project of mine,” He smiled, “Plus I like when you get angry and take it out on my dick.”
“You’re disgusting,” You said flatly, no bite behind your words.
Jungkook grinned and kissed you, smiling when he felt you climb over him, straddling one of his legs with your arms running up and down the length of his sides, “Thanks for expressing that lovely sentiment. Great communication.”
He hiked his leg up and pushed it against your center, relishing the soft gasp you let out. You squeezed his leg between your thighs, holding him there for a moment.
It wasn’t always this sunny between the two of you, memories of the shamble that was your life two months ago flooded your head, barging in like an intruding thought demanding to be acknowledged.
“Are you even paying attention to me?”
Why was everyone asking you that questions? Were you? At this point, you couldn’t really tell. Maybe you were just tired, you didn’t get a lot of sleep. It was normal, right? To lose sleep because of how many things were running through your brain, worries you couldn’t seem to find a solution for. Had you slept at all last night? You couldn’t remember. You knew you got in bed, pretended that you were tired- so how did the entire night and then some pass while you didn’t even notice?
“Hello?” Jungkook snapped, waving an idle hand in front of your face. He called your full name- which was rare considering he had a million stupid nicknames for you. “What’s wrong?”
You looked at him with a blank expression, shrugging, “Nothing, I’m fine.”
Jungkook looked at you with a flat expression, narrowing his eyes slightly as if he was trying to tell if you were messing with him. You stared back at him, raising your eyebrows stubbornly.
“Watching you love everyone else around you more than yourself is the worst thing on earth.” He said slowly, “You need to let someone in- if not me, then yourself. I don’t understand why you’re punishing yourself by hiding all of your emotions.”
Jungkook had been pushing you so hard for weeks- demanding you to share every little thing that went through your head when he thought you seemed upset like it was easy for you. You understood that he wanted you to open up to him, but it wasn’t as easy as he made it seem.
“So stop hanging out with me,” You said simply, ironing the hurt in your heart. You knew this would happen to you eventually- you figured he’d get tired of having to babysit you and then leave you. This is exactly why you didn’t let him officially call you his girlfriend, nor did you call him your boyfriend. You had barriers, held him at an arms length.
“What?” He asked, pain seeping through his tone, “When did we start talking about that?”
You didn’t look at him, staring the entire other direction instead, “Now- we’re talking about it now. You said being around me is the worst thing on earth, so stop being around me.”
“That’s- I didn’t,” He stuttered, eyes wide.
You licked your lips nervously, ignoring the lump forming in your throat. You felt his hand grasp at yours and you pulled away sharply, taking a couple steps back. You shook your head, pushing his hands away. You couldn’t stop your head from shaking no, your hands from trembling, your heart from beating out of time. It felt like your chest was getting heavier and heavier, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
“I would rip my heart out for you,” He pleaded, “I would give you everything I have and more if I could- anything you asked of me, I’d do. I didn’t mean, please, baby-“
“Stop,” You interrupted, taking another step back. You couldn’t handle his level of affection, the attention he gave to you.
You walked away quickly, fast enough for him to not see the tears streaming down your face.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Jungkook asked, breaking you out of the flashback going through your mind.
You blinked down at him, using your hands to prop yourself up off of him, hovering slightly above of his face, “I’m glad we broke up two months ago.”
He scoffed dramatically, “So you hate me?”
“No- I mean, I’m glad I went to therapy. I’m glad I didn’t depend on you to fix me,” You clarified. You were still navigating the right way to word the way you felt at times, stumbling through out of context phrases that sounded harsh at times.
Jungkook took a deep breath and smiled with his lips shut, pressing his mouth into a thin line like he was trying to contain a swell of emotions. He tucked a stray piece of hair of yours behind your head, caressing the side of your face lightly, “I’m glad you came back to me when you were ready.”
You smiled down at him, letting him pull you down to kiss him again. Jungkook didn’t fix you, no, but it was better this way- you were better this way.
masterlist.
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moon-write · a day ago
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“Is everything okay? Jungkook says close to you, leaving no space between his chest and your back. He rubs your arms while you send one last text to your brother, swiping away at Tanny’s texts with a smirk. 
You turn around to face him, sighing before silencing your phone for the night, “I never saw Jin leave the party so I just wanted to make sure he was okay,” you smile, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. 
He smiles, leaning down to leave only inches between your lips, “and is he okay?” He kisses you making you giggle.
“Yeah, my mom went to visit my aunt and just asked Jin to check in on dad-said he wasn’t feeling too good when she left this morning, but Jin said dad looked okay, he’s just a little tired,” you say. Jungkook is hugging you now, sniffing your hair while trying to concentrate on what you were saying. His hands rubbing your back with careful stride, a touch of his that makes your insides tingle.
“Good,” he mumbles close to your ear before kissing it. You try to breathe in quietly, your body igniting in small bursts the more comfortable your boyfriend becomes with his touches.
“Is this okay?” He never misses a beat. You have to chuckle to keep yourself from completely falling through could nine
“Yes,” you breathe slowly, kissing his jaw.
“Come on,” he pulls you through his kitchen, past the living room, and through the hallway of his large apartment. You feel him squeeze your hand when he opens up the door to his bedroom, stepping back so you can go inside first.
You share a passing glance with him before you’re overtaken by the soft glow of candles placed all over his room, a gentle scent of vanilla permeating the air. A bouquet of your favorite flowers rest atop his black sheets. Your smile widens when you realize one of his songs is playing in the background, the one you said was your favorite. Turning back to look at him, he’s blushing, “the song might be a bit much,” he laughs.
You shake your head, moving back into his arms, “it’s not.” You say against his button-down shirt.
“I know what this looks like,” you can hear the timid smile on his face and it’s confirmed when he pulls your face to look at him. He holds your cheeks between his hands and squeezes them gingerly.
“What does it look like?” You tease him and his cheeks turn pink.
"I just want to look at you,” his voice is lower than you’ve heard before and it makes your knees weak. His lips hover over your nose before kissing you there, “be with you…”
“You’ve been such an unexpected part in my life, Ami,” he says, “and I'm not sure I can go without you in it now,” his eyes do the questioning and yours answer back with the same wonder, “I don’t want to see myself without you.”
You feel the weight build in your throat, eyes casting over with tears.
“I was so scared at the start of this new part in my career-will I be good enough? Can I make hyung proud and everyone else around me?” He swallows, “but you’ve never made me question myself, you just keep encouraging me and pushing me.”
“Because you can do it, you’re doing it now,” you can’t let him finish, an outpouring of things to say about him, “Kook, I just want you to see what I see. I want you to be proud of yourself too.”
“I meant it when I said I’m yours if you’ll let me be yours completely Ami-”
Impatience. It rears its ugly head at the most inconvenient times. Maybe you should stop, maybe this shouldn’t continue when there is so much uncharted territory you still need to pass through. So many things left to be said before you get here. But all you can do is close the gap between you and Jungkook and the words he’s uttering that strike your heart. You welcome him even when you feel a slight tug pulling you in the opposite direction. But Jungkook, all he sees is you.
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The sheets are warm and twisted beneath you and Jungkook, the two of you laying to face each other. You run your hand back through his hair, scratching his scalp in the process, doing so to mask the tingling you feel in your fingertips. His lips curl in response, heavy lids fighting off sleep. He can see a twinkling in your eye that makes him wonder what you’re thinking. Because your thoughts are plastered all over the expression on your face.
Jungkook strokes your fingers with his before intertwining them, “I know that face,” he chuckles low, “what are you thinking.?” You don’t answer him right away leaving to wonder if you are still caught in the haze of the events that occurred moments before this, where the two of you are just laying there to steep in the quiet aftermath.
But the thoughts inside your head, you don’t know how to voice them, so you blink, starting to feel shy and wanting to hide your face from Jungkook the longer he stares at you. When you start to move into his shoulder he chuckles, stopping you to keep your head in place; “you are staring a lot,” you finally whisper.
He grins a crooked smile, rose-colored eyes drinking you in while he strokes your chin with his thumb, “when we were at my studio, did you mean what you said? That you’re falling for me?”
Your cheeks grow hot as you remember, but you’d never forgotten. Finding your fingers on his chain again and playing with it-you want to say yes. You want to say yes.
“Ami,” he brings you back with his voice and you can see the pondering in his eyes when he looks at you, waiting patiently for something, “I need to know because I want to say something to you.”
You twitch, moving your hand down his bicep and hold on for dear life, “Ju-Jungkook,” you stutter with a weak breath, heart pumping.
He takes a deep breath, bodies so close to one another you can almost feel his chest sink back. It all moves in slow motion when he opens his mouth, one part of you waits while the other wants to stop him but a jolting sound beats you to it.
You yelp and pull the covers over yourself while Jungkook is quick to jump out of bed and dress, the sound of rapid knocking disrupting the once quiet apartment.
“Get dressed-stay in here,” he says in a single breath before closing the bedroom door behind him.
He can’t move fast enough to the door. When he approaches the front door his feet slow to a tip-toe. He puffs out his chest, ready to make his very male and dominant presence known when an unexpected voice sounds on the other side of the door-
“Yah, Jungkook!”
His heart drops when he realizes it’s Yoongi. He scrambles to open the door when Yoongi calls for him again and makes the sick feeling grow in Jungkook’s stomach. Yoongi’s eyes darken when they settle on Jungkook’s face, glaring over his half-naked body before he pushes all the way in; “Ami!”
Clothed and already shaken, you nearly collapse at the sound of your best friend’s voice.
“Hyung,” Jungkook follows Yoongi in a frenzy, “we can talk about this rationally-”
“Enough,” Yoongi snaps and it’s a side of him Jungkook has never seen, “this has nothing to do with you-her father has had a heart attack-”
Eavesdropping in the hallway you make your disheveled appearance known, running into the kitchen, “wh-what-what are you-”
Yoongi sets his attention on you, “everyone has been calling you Ami, let’s go.” He takes your hand and pulls you away. The front door slams behind the two of you, Jungkook left alone with a racing heart.
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tyrant love  | 030. unexpected ✏
jungkook wants to share this special night alone with ami, but an emergency brings their secret relationship to the forefront 
written parts between images: please be sure to read in the order it is formatted or it can be confusing.
pairing: jungkook x named!reader genre: fluff, angst rating: pg tags/warnings: light romance, feelings of fear, medical emergency 
a/n: ah, okay okay! i really have a problem with needing angst in every story 🥺 don’t hate meee~ 
<<  >>
series mlist
taglist: @carolina-angel​​ @rageyoudamnednerd​​ @dreamcatcherjiah​​ @woodstockbtswriter​​ @awseokjin​​ @preciouschimine​​ @milk-and-moni​ @dreamamubarak​ @salty-for-suga​ @yourlocalhotgf​ @shreyuuu​
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loomdiamonds · 8 hours ago
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What happened to Park Y/n?
Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 7.4k Words
Warning: Mentions of Violence, blood, some heartbreak. Also, this used to be posted on my other account, however I deleted it and revised it.
Summary: It’s been 5 years since Park Y/n, sister of Park Jimin and fiancée of Jungkook, went missing and was presumed dead. However, with the rise of BTS and Jimin and Jungkook just now mending their once broken friendship, Y/n escapes and is brought back home. However, the question is now what happened to her in those five years? Also, why was she taken?
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Pain, that all I am greeted with when I wake up. I am sat up against a tree, facing a completely empty field. I look down at my body and the first thing I see is my shirt with a huge bloodstain on it and a knife embedded in my stomach. I move my hands around the knife and I take a deep breath as I try to pull it out, but fail due to the fact of how weak I am. I take a deep breath as I whisper to myself, “Come on Y/N, you can do this,”
I try again and successfully pull out the knife, but not without letting out a small cry from the pain, and fell to the ground hitting my head on the ground in the process. I look at the weapon that was coated in my blood and I use one hand to put pressure on the stab wound. ”Son of a bitch.”
You are probably wondering what hell is going on and why I am bleeding to death and how I got myself into this predicament.
Well you see, I was kidnapped after a huge argument with my fiancé, he stormed out the house that evening and before I could go after him I blacked out and found myself in a room I didn’t recognize. I’m not sure how long I’ve been missing, but I want nothing more than to just go home and be in Jungkook’s arms again. But seeing the state I am in currently, I don’t know if that is possible.
I am brought out of my thoughts when I hear footsteps coming closer to me. I stiffen up a bit as the steps become closer, drop my hand with the knife in my hand behind my back, quickly sit back up, and I quickly close my eyes before the person finally got to me. I sit there for a moment, holding my breath, then I feel a hand on my cheek. “No need to pretend baby girl, I know you are awake. Let me see those pretty Y/E/C eyes.”
I clench tighter to the knife as they continue to stroke my cheek. I open my eyes and look into the eyes of the man who has tormented me for years now. He smirks a little as he leans in, about to kiss me, but I spit in his face. He pulls back, startled, and slaps me. I fall back to the ground and I groan a little.”Try that again, I dare you.”
I look up at him in hate, and I smirk a bit as I clench harder on the knife. “Fuck you.”
He looks at me confused, then grabs my shoulders and slams me against the tree. He looks into my eyes and you can clearly tell he is pissed off. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said fuck you,” Before he can comprehend what is happening I stab him in the chest and push him away from me with whatever strength I have left. Despite the pain, I quickly get up off the ground and take off running. I hold on to my stomach as I run and I don’t look back in fear that he might be chasing me.
As I am running, my legs give way and I feel myself tumble down a very steep hill. I feel something in my arm snap, and a sharp pain in my rib, but when everything stops spinning, I open my eyes and see my kidnapper smiling down at me.
He reaches down, pulling me up by the hair, and points a gun towards my head. “You really are a stupid bitch.”
“Please don’t,” I beg, looking at him. “I don’t want to die.”
“Should have thought of that before you ran.” As he goes to pull the trigger, someone tackles him to the ground, and the gun fires. I feel a sharp pain in my chest, causing me to scream loudly and the world around me instantly becomes blurry.
As I land on my back, I laugh weakly as I see a small bright light, not long after coughing a bit and I could almost instantly taste the blood in my mouth, hot, wet and metallic. Everything around me starting moving in slow motion, and I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t even hear myself think.
Seconds later I see a woman above me, them and I slowly begin to lose consciousness. The woman attempts to put pressure and stop the bleeding coming from both my chest and stomach while begging me to stay awake, but I find it harder and harder by the second to stay awake. Looking at her, I smile weakly and I say weakly before everything goes dark, “Jeon Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s Point of View
-
“Jungkook what are we doing here?” Y/n ask as we walk inside a house she’s always dreamed about owning. “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” She asks, making me nod my head. I walk over to a small envelope that was placed neatly on a table that is sat in front of a huge window. Outside you could see the sun was setting along the beautiful waters of Los Angeles and it was overall a beautiful sight.
I feel Y/n’s hand on my shoulder and she looks down at the envelope. “What’s that?”
Instead of speaking I hand her the envelope and I walk away. As she opens it, with her back towards me, I quietly get down on one knee and wait for her to turn around. I pull out a black velvet box and I bite my lower lip nervously as I wait for her.
“Kookie this is the deed to the house, and our names are on it. What is going on?” She asks as she turns. Once she sees me her eyes widen and instantly she shakes her head. “Baby what are you doing?”
Taking a deep breath I smile and look up into her eyes. “From the moment our paths crossed, you’ve captivated me, challenged me, frustrated me and improved me in ways no person has done before. And I have fallen in love with you again and again. I truly believe we are good for each other and that we will continue to grow stronger together.” I look into her sparkling Y/E/C and I continue.
“When I say, ‘I love you’, it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a woman. You are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with….”
Taking a deep breath, I open the box and Y/n gasp loudly as she sees the ring I have chosen for her. “I may not have told you this before now, but my life is incomplete without you. You came into my life and everything became beautiful, I can’t imagine a life without you, which is why I’m asking you to marry me, so would you marry me?”
“Yes” She whispers, I smile widely as I grab her left hand gently and I place the ring I bought for her. After I place the ring on her finger, she kneels down and hugs me tightly. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too my dear.” She leans back, making it easier to see her face, and I press my lips against hers. I feel her lips pull into a smile as I do and her left hand gently rests against my cheek. When she pulls away her smile continues to shine brightly as she looks around our brand new house. Looking back at me she moves her thumb against my cheek.
“I can’t wait to marry you” I quickly lean forward again and I kiss her a bit more passionately as I can. When we pull apart, she continues to smile and lays her head on my shoulder.
“Neither can I.”
-
I snap out of my thoughts as I hear my name being called. I look around and see I am seated at a very elegant table. Only then do I realize we are on the set of a new music video that I was working on with the rest of BTS.
I look over at our leader Namjoon and I guess by the look in my eye, he knew something was wrong. “Let’s have a five-minute break, everyone.”
All the cast and crew scatter and the rest of the group comes up to me. Namjoon sits next to me and sighs. “What is going on with you Jungkook? You’ve been gloomy for the past couple of weeks, and don’t think I haven’t been noticing you aren’t sleeping. You have bags under your eyes, what’s wrong?”
I scoff a little as I look down at the table. “She disappeared five years ago today,” I whisper. Namjoon looks at me confused at first however, I could tell everyone else, especially Jimin, knew what I was referring too. I take off the glasses I am wearing and cover my eyes with my hand. “Jungkook,” J-hope says quietly, sitting on the other side of me.
“No matter how much I try to move on, I can’t stop thinking about her. About how it’s my fault she’s dead.” I stay silent for a couple of seconds before I slam my hand on the table and get up. Everyone watches as I walk around the table and I try my best to calm down. “If I just listened to her, if I didn’t believe that fucking dickhead she would still be here!l She would be my wife and I’d be the happiest man in the world. Jimin wouldn’t have had to do all the things he did, and we both could be happy.”
Y/n was Jimin’s younger sister. He tried his best to keep a strong face to make me feel better, but I could tell the whole situation hurt him just as much me. Possibly even worse since he had to break the news to their family. Because of this, Jimin and I had a bunch of huge fights about it throughout the years, and it was only recently that we started to mend our once broken friendship for the group since BTS has been rising a lot since then.
Tears begin to stream down my cheeks and I stand in front of a chair. “I just- I want her back,” I say weakly, looking up at him. “I want one last chance to tell her I love her, and that I believe her.”
I wipe away my tears as best I can and I look at everyone. Jimin looks down at his feet, almost refusing to look at me and I instantly feel regret even bringing it up. “I’m sorry, It just hurts to know she is no longer here. I’m being selfish.”
“Jungkook, you have nothing to be sorry over. This isn’t your fault, and she is probably looking down at you right now saying the same thing.” Jin says as comes over to me and pats my shoulder and I shake my head weakly. “She loves you Jungkook, there no question about that, and she would be so proud of you for that you have accomplished always remember that.” Taehyung says, trying his best to comfort me.
I nod my head again and as I am about to speak, my phone goes off. Pulling it out of my pocket, I see a notification from our manager that says that myself as well as Jimin need to meet him at a diner close by. “Hey Jimin, we got to go.”
“Do you want one of us to go with you?” Suga asks, concern filling his voice. I sigh as I think about it for a second before I nod. Taehyung immediately volunteers to go with us and I hear Jimin sigh deeply.
“Take your time okay, both of you.” Namjoon says, gently patting my shoulder. After I wipe away the tears I shed and made sure I look somewhat decent I walk off the set with Taehyung and Jimin and towards the diner.
-
“What is so important that you pulled us offset?” Jimin ask as all of us sit in the booth, in front of our manager. He throws a manila folder in front of us, causing me to look at him confused. I look at Jimin and Taehyung, and turn my attention back to our manager.
“Jungkook, Jimin, you know that I have thought of both of you as a son since you joined BTS, and if I didn’t think it was important I wouldn’t tell you both, right.”
“Of course, what’s in the folder?” Jimin says, sitting up in his seat.
He sighs deeply and clears his throat a little. “ A little over five months ago a girl brought to a hospital barely alive. She had the most dangerous injuries that included a gunshot to the chest, a stab wound to the stomach and just really bad injuries overall.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at the table.
“For months no one knew who this woman was, she was just a Jane Doe. A Jane Doe who fell in a coma, but the couple who found her said she uttered a name before she passed out.”
“What name did she say?” Jimin ask, our manager looks up at me, maintaining eye contact causing me to look at him confused. “My name?”
“Yes Jungkook, she said your name. The police reached out to me and-” I cut him off by gathering my things and I shake my head.
“Listen, it is probably some crazed fan claiming she is Y/n, I pray the girl is alright but I can’t-” I state as I begin to get up, but my manager says something that makes me freeze.
“It is Y/n.” Suddenly, my heart stops. It feels like my entire world has been split in to. I look at my manager and I try to find the right words to say.  “If this is your version of some kind of a joke, it is not funny.” Taehyung says, knowing that this is not a subject we as a group don’t like to joke about. All of BTS saw how broken both of us were been since her disappearance and the damage it did for Jimin and I.
“I’m not lying! If I didn’t think it wasn’t her I wouldn’t have told you.” Sitting back down, I look at him, trying to comprehend the news I have just been told. “How can you be so sure it’s Y/n? How do you know this isn’t some sick fucking joke or a publicity stunt?” I ask.
“Did they ever find her body?” He asks; Shaking my head, he grabs the folder from earlier and pulls out a couple of photographs. He sighs deeply at one in particular and sets it down on the table.
Jimin and Taehyung both look at the photos and but I continue to stare down our manager.
“I knew this was her because of one thing.” He points down at something on the photo and when I look down at the photo, a small tear runs down my cheek.
“Oh my god,” I whisper as I look between the photo and everyone else at the booth. Our manager nods his head and I feel my heart drop down to my stomach. It was Y/n, and I know it was her because she had the tattoo on her collarbone that read her mother’s birthday in Roman Numerals.
“I don’t understand.” Jimin stutter as I look through the other photo’s that were also in the folder. There were photos of her completely bloody and bruised, and it was a horrifying sight to see the person you love in. I look back up at my manager, completely in tears.
“So you’re telling me, my fiancée, Jimin’s sister has been alive for the past five years?” I ask, not exactly sure how to react. Our manager nods and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Yes, that’s exactly what I am saying.”
Y/n’s Point of View
When I wake up, I squint my eyes almost instantly due to the brightness of the room I am in. Once my eyes adjust, I look around confused as to where I am then I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. I jump instantly at contact and look to see a female doctor giving me a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay, you are safe here. My name is Doctor Lee. What is your name.”
“Park Y/n,” I say weakly since my throat is as dry as a desert, my reply almost in a whisper. Doctor Lee nods her head and grabs a clipboard. “Well, you’ve been out for a good while. When you were brought to us you encountered some very serious injuries. After many surgeries and some stuff we managed to get the bullet out without it hitting anything serious, but you have been in a coma for the past 5 months.” I nod slowly at the new information that I am receiving and Doctor Lee sighs a little as she sits down next to my bed.
“If you don’t mind me asking. Do you remember what happened to you?” She asks; I stay silent for a second, trying my best to think of what happened and where I should begin, and after a while, I nod.
“It all started when I was kidnapped after an argument with my fiancé…” I carry on with the story, and I can tell the look on her face that she feels some type of pity for me.
I look away from her after a while and examine the room I am in. Everything seems so different now, I look back at her confused and I feel myself begin to breathe a bit heavier. “What year is it?”
“It’s 2021, why?” I look at her, taken aback, and I try to comprehend what she said. “I’ve been missing for five years?”
“You’ve been missing for five years? Is there someone we can call?”
“My fiancé, Jeon Jungkook or my brother Park Jimin.” Doctor Lee looks at me confused. “Jungkook and Jimin of BTS? Are you sure you have relation to them? I think we may have to take you to get your head scanned again” Dr. Lee mutters under her breath, making me look at her in offense.
“Yes, why would you ask that?” Doctor Lee opens her mouth to speak, but suddenly there was a loud commotion that grabs our attention.
“Yah you can’t go in there!” A nurse yells and the face of the man I have dreamt about stands in the doorway, looking at me as if he’d seen a ghost. I look at him shocked and I can help but try to sit up, ignoring the pain I am in. Seconds later runs in my Hyung who I have also missed dearly and almost sobbed once I see him. Doctor Lee tries to get me to lay back down, but I ignore her as I just stare at both men in front of me.
It appears to me that they both are in the same state I am in because as the nurse tries to get their attention, they ignore her and Jungkook walks towards me. He sits in the chair next to my bed, and I raise my shaky hand and place it on his cheek, afraid that this might be a dream, He smiles a bit as he leans into my touch.
I watch as a tear runs down his cheek and I use my thumb to wipe it away. He reaches up and holds my hand that’s on his cheek. I smile weakly, knowing this isn’t a dream, and I stare into his eyes.
I look over at my dear brother and watch as he drops to his knees and tears continuously run down his cheeks. We all sit there in silence as we look at each other, feeling as though this is a dream.
-
Sometimes it almost seems like I never really escaped.
I fear as though that I hallucinated my escape from my captor and made it back home. Home with my family. Home with my friends. Home with him.
With Jungkook.
I will say, news broke about me very fast. Though Jungkook and Jimin didn't tell me anything, I managed to see a couple of recent magazines with his face all over it.
“Jimin’s younger sister found after 5 years!
Who is Jungkook’s Ex-Lover?
Is this actually Park Y/n, or another crazed fan?
Who Is This Mysterious Woman That Claims to be Jungkook’s Fiancée?”
You get the picture. It was crazy to know how fast these people received their information on what had happened and how many people were so invested in Jimin and Jungkook's lifestyles.
-
"My Love," I hear Jungkook say as I walk into the bedroom we share. Jungkook is laying there on his back, shirtless, and his hands are behind his head. I try my best to keep myself from drooling at him, but literally about this man is perfect. Jungkook turns his gaze from the ceiling from me and smiles at me. "You never told me about your dreams. You know, what you'd like to see yourself doing in the future."
"My Dreams?" I ask, causing him to nod. I lean against the doorframe of our bedroom, crossing my arms, and I shrug. "I don't know."
Jungkook rolls his eyes jokingly and props himself up on his elbows. "Come on, there had to be something that you wanted to do when you were younger. What was it? Did you always dream to become an astronaut? An Actress?"
I giggle as he continues to try to guess what I wanted to be and I walk over to him. Getting in the bed, I slowly begin to trail small kisses up and down his chest. "How about this," I say in between kisses. " I will think of one and you will be the first to know."
Jungkook takes a very dramatic deep breath, causing me to giggle even more, and I move up, kissing his softly on his lips. I slowly move on top of Jungkook, so that I am now straddling him, and I feel his lips pull into a smile as he keeps our lips connected.
Jungkook sits up for a second and I can feel his fingers playing with the buttons of the shirt I'm wearing. I let out a small, almost inaudible, moan and I pull away from our kiss. I open my eyes and see Jungkook looking at me.
"I love you Y/n," I smile as he moves his right hand from my shirt and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. Giggling a little, I take off my shirt and lean downwards so that our noses are practically touching. Looking into his mesmerizing dark brown eyes, I teasingly kiss the side of his mouth and wink at him which makes him groan loudly in frustration.
"And I love you Jungkook. To the moon and back."
-
"To the moon and back," I whisper as I look at an old photo of Jungkook and I. Setting down the photo I walk over to the kitchen. Looking out the window I smile slightly as I see the beautiful view of the sun setting along the water, reminding me of the day Jungkook proposed to me.
It’s crazy how things can be so perfect and just like that everything can change. Thankfully Jungkook hasn’t pestered me about what happened to me these past five years, but I will admit there is a very large secret I have been keeping from almost everyone. I want to tell them, in fact it’s the one thing I want to tell because potentially it can save someone’s life, but I know me escaping is going to cause some type of consequence.
I sigh deeply as I come out of my thoughts, and I hear the front door of the house open. Turning my head, I see my Fiancé, or I guess I should say Ex-fiancé standing there. Quickly I turn my eyes away from him, and without a word I walk to another room just to avoid any type of conversation with him.
Now, logically, I knew things couldn't just go back to the way things were five years ago. Especially since the last we saw each other, we were on bad terms, but you would think that maybe he and I would be so happy to be with each other again. Sadly, I'm afraid that wasn't the case.
Jungkook left me there in the hospital room with Jimin, and had a very hard time accepting that I was back. Jimin stayed by my side while I stayed in the hospital room for a week or two before they finally let me go home. For those two weeks, Jungkook was very distant, which is understandable due to the time we both spent apart from each other. But I do wish he would talk to me; you know get my mind off of what happened.
Currently, I am sitting outside on the balcony of Jungkook's house, or I guess I should say our home since my name is also on the deed. I sigh deeply as I watch the sunset on the horizon, showing off the sky in orange, pink, and dark purple. I smile soft remembering the memory of Jungkook proposing to me as the sunset in a similar setting and I look down at where my engagement ring once was.
Gently tracing over the spot on my finger, I hear some movement behind me, causing me to turn. Once I do there stands Jungkook standing there, he changed from his t-shirt and sweats he was wearing earlier, to just a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.
I give Jungkook a small smile as I look back at the sunset and I take a deep breath.
You are probably wondering if I still want to marry him? The truth is I do. I love Jungkook with all of my heart and would do everything I can to bring him happiness and joy, but the problem is how much time we have spent the time apart, and the emotional trauma we both have been through.
I can only imagine how he felt when he got the news that I was somehow alive after all these years. Knowing Jungkook he probably tried to blame what happened to me on himself, which isn't true, but I can only imagine all the things running through that beautiful head of his.
With that, I don't even know if Jungkook has a girlfriend or anything like that now. Five years is a long time, and though I would give anything and everything to go back to the way things were, when we were happy and so in love, it seems nearly impossible. It feels as though that Jungkook and I are strangers now.
"I missed this view," I whispered loud enough for the both of us to hear. Slightly licking my lips due to them being dry, I look back down at my lap and nod my head a little. "This brings back so many good memories."
As I sit there, I hear Jungkook move and sit in the seat next to me. After sitting there in silence for a moment or two, he was the one to finally speak. "I will never forget the day I asked you to marry me."
I smile slightly and listen to Jungkook as he continues. "I had spent weeks on end trying to find the right time to propose, I kept bother Jimin so much and that's why that week I was so busy. I spent most of it trying to figure out if I should do one of those propellor planes or whether I should have a whole flash mob."
I giggle a little at the thought of him being a part of a flash mob to propose, and I lift my head to look at him. Once I do, what catches me by surprise is that he was already looking right at me.
"I will say this though, that day when I showed you this house and I did propose was one of the happiest moments in my life. I felt like the greatest man on earth because somehow you agreed that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me."
I stare into Jungkook's dark brown eyes and watch as they fill with tears. As a tear slips down his cheek, I reach to wipe it away when Jungkook suddenly catches my hand. He tears his eyes away from me and looks at my hand. I watch as he takes a deep breath and he looks back at me. "If I have to, I will spend the rest of my days apologizing for leaving that night. When I lost you, my whole life fell apart, for the past five years I couldn't date another woman. I couldn't move on though everyone said that you probably would have wanted me to, but I couldn't. If I had to, I would have died of old age alone because I really and truly believe you are my soulmate."
"Jungkook," I say as I move the hand that he was holding and place it on his cheek. "I don't blame you for what happened to me, not one bit okay? Never once in the time that I was gone did I blame you. As a matter of fact, you were my biggest motivator to escape, and though when we last saw each other we were fighting, I wanted to fight as hard as I could just so that I could see those beautiful dark brown eyes of yours." I say, Slowly more tears run down his cheek and he gently move my hand from its place on his cheek as well. Jungkook leans forward and we both stare into each other's eyes for what seems like forever.
"Would it be completely inappropriate to kiss you?" Jungkook asks and instead of answering his question, I move and connect our lips. The kiss was gentle and soft like he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. I melted into the kiss and couldn’t help but smile against his lips as I enjoy the feeling of his lips on mine again.
“I love you” He whispers as we slowly pull away. My eyes widen and Jungkook gives me a small smile. “You don’t have to say it back, but I still love you.”
“To the moon and back?” I ask, causing him to smile even more. “To the moon and back.”
Jungkook leans back in and all the feelings I had for him many years ago cam rushing back.
Jungkook’s Point of View
"Okay, after Jimin and Jungkook are done with this interview, you all have a meeting with Vouge for another photo shoot, then you have a fitting for your outfit for this year's Met Gala, another interview with..." Our assistant says, while I begin to doze off to what she was saying.
Though I wish I could spend time with Y/n, especially after not seeing her for the past five years, but sadly I still have a job to do. I also have to clear a lot of things up about the situation.
Ever since Y/n came home, the media can't seem to stop talking about pestering all of us for some kind of information. They are even twisting the story to appear as though she isn't actually who she says she is and is just faking it. It's sad how the media is willing to make up false information only for a few more clicks and make everyone think of things that aren't true.
Sitting down in the hair and makeup chair in my dressing room, I look myself in the mirror as my assistant continues to list off what all needs to be completed today. "...Oh, and Jungkook don't forget about buying Y/n her favorite flowers on your way back home as well as dinner for you both."
I give her a small smile and nod as I thank her for reminding me, and I wait for one of the producers to get me when it's time for my interview. Pulling out my phone, I smile as it lights up, showing a photo of Y/n and I back when we first got engaged. Going to my messages, I send a text to Y/n, knowing she is still asleep.
"I may be home a bit late, but I will bring home dinner. Don't forget to take your medicine and if you need anything at all, please call me. Have a great day! <3" I smile as I imagine her waking up and smiling once she sees my daily message to her. I gently bite my lower lip as I look back at myself in the mirror and think back to the kiss, we both shared that day in our backyard.
I guess you are probably wondering what our "status" is after that.
Well, Y/n and I both agreed that we are going to take things slow. Since a lot of time has passed since the last time, we were together, we would take things slowly and see how things go, however, it feels as though we picked up right where we left off. Well, not the part where I left, and she got kidnapped, but to the part where we were okay, and we were happy together and so in love.
Almost every day since that day, we would have breakfast together and do all sorts of fun activities. Some days we would go walk around our neighborhood, use the pool in our backyard or going down to the beach, and walking along it while watching the sunset. Either way, I know I haven't been this happy in a very long time.
"Jungkook?" I hear Jimin say, startling me; I look up through the mirror and see one of the producers standing at the door, clipboard in hand, with a small smile on their face. "They are ready for us on set."
I nod my head, putting my phone in my pocket, and I follow Jimin out of the room to start this interview.
As we walk out, I sigh deeply. Jimin and I haven’t spoken a word to each other since that day in the hospital. I know this is hard for me, but I could only imagine how he is feeling about everything. “Hyung?” I say, making Jimin hum in response as we walk.
“Can we please talk later?”
“About what?” Jimin ask as he fiddles with his collar and I sigh. “Everything,”
Jimin turns to look at me and I can see sadness mixed with a little hatred in his eyes. “Please. Jimin.”
There is a long pause for a second as Jimin stops walking and he looks me up and down. “10 minutes.” He says before walking off.
Y/n's Point of View
Waking up this morning, I instantly smile once I see a text message from Jungkook on my phone. Carefully reading it, my smile never seems to fade. Though they are effortless, it makes me smile that he takes the time out of his day to send me a simple text before I wake up.
Getting out of bed, I head downstairs to make a cup of coffee when a note that Jungkook left out on the counter caught my attention. Just as I was about to read over it, I hear my phone buzz, indicating that I have a new notification. As I look back at my phone, I read the message being displayed.
“BTS Jimin and Jungkook interview now Live!”
Carefully clicking the link, I see Jungkook sitting down wearing a black blazer with red white and yellow designs on it with a dark blue underneath it. Leaning against the counter, waiting for my coffee to finish brewing, I watch as he looks down at his lap. "With the recent news of BTS’ Jimin’s Sister and Jungkook’s ex-fiancée who was reported missing 5 years ago being found, Jimin and Jungkook are here with us to discuss how things are and clarifying rumors that have been circulating around the media. How are both of you today?"
"As good as one can be Gok Ji," Jungkook says, giving him a weak smile as he looks up at him.
"So, first, I want to ask how you two are doing. I know it hasn't been easy for the both of you" Gok Ji ask, Jungkook gives a small smile and looks at Gok Ji.
"Yeah, I think Jungkook and I can both agree it’s been a process. Since we are in the middle of getting ready for a comeback and this once open wound opening up again, it’s been crazy." Jimin says as he looks at his lap and Jungkook nods besides him.
“That’s completely understandable, I don’t know if this is too personal, but how has this affected your friendship if you don’t mind me asking. Seeing as she is your sister Jimin and Jungkook your ex-fiancée.” Both men sigh before they ask to go to the next question.
This was shocking to me seeing as I knew they were so close. Did this mess cause something to happen between them?
The interviewer keeps switching between the two with questions before he asks Jungkook the question.
"So are you and Y/n together Jungkook, are you two still getting married?"
"As of right now, we are taking things slowly," Jungkook says as he reaches up and moves his curls out of his face. "I know for me; I am more than willing to do everything I can for her. The love I had for her is still there, and whether we get married or not, her happiness is the most important thing to me."
I resist the urge to cry at his words, and I watch as Jungkook turns looks into the camera for a second before looking back at Gok Ji.
"I'd like to ask how you and Y/n met and what it was like hearing that she was alive after all this time." Jungkook took a deep breath, looking down for a second, before looking up and nodding.
"Of course, so Y/n and I met in high school actually, we were actually just friends. I always thought she was so beautiful and funnily enough, I was actually jealous of the guy who would end up marrying her, not knowing it was me. Prior to this Jimin and I were also friends and I had no clue they were even related." I laugh a little as I watch Jungkook chuckle, remembering him telling her that story. "So, a little before graduation, with the help of BTS as we were coming back from traveling, I actually grew a pair and asked her out. Which she shockingly said yes too. For years we were happy, and when I proposed to her, it was like a scene out of a movie."
Looking back at his lap, you could see he was fiddling with the buttons of his jacket. "When I got the news that she was gone, all of us were in the US for our tour when they pulled Jimin off to the side and all I saw was Jimin shaking his head a lot before we were supposed to go on stage. Then seconds later I heard on the intercom that the concert would be cancelled due to some personal issues." Though he wasn't looking at the camera, you could clearly see tears filling his eyes as he thinks about the day, he found out I was alive. Looking up, a few tears roll down his cheeks, and Jungkook quickly wipes them away.
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's okay. I could only imagine what you had to go through." Jungkook nods slightly and Jimin speaks up, seeing that it was hard for Jungkook to continue with what he was saying."When our Manager pulled me off to the side, they told me that something had happened at the hotel we were all staying at and something had happened to my sister. As they cancelled the concert, they pulled us in the back room and I had to tell everyone what I was told."
Jimin stopped, and more tears ran down his cheek, but he didn't care to wipe them away. He looks to the side of him, probably to someone who is off-camera, and he shakes his head. "Not long ago, we were on set for a new music video when Jungkook and I were pulled away. It was there they told us they finally found her. We initially didn’t want all of this to become as public as it did, but due to some press, the word got out and here we are."
Jungkook nods in agreement with what Jimin said and the interviewer asks, “So you guys initially posted your statement about what happened, but I do want to ask what made you come and do this interview?”
“Well, when we saw the photos of what happened to her, they were disturbing and I knew my sister wouldn’t want the world to know what happened. So Jungkook and I, as well as our management agreed to try to keep things private, but release the statement we did about her health and how she is currently recovering. She would have wanted to keep this private, but due to our status, the media somehow found the photos we were shown in private and took it upon themselves to leak it to the media.” Jimin takes a deep breath and I see him clench his jaw and I could tell he was angry.
“Seeing so many media outlets spin these stories about her and saying the things they are saying is what made us both agree to this interview. To set the record straight, because no one, whether she was my sister or his fiancée doesn’t deserve the things that are being said about her right now.”
My eyes widen at the new information, and I look over at the piece of paper that was left out on the counter. Looking over at it, I notice that it was a note from Jungkook stating that he is wanting to sue multiple media outlets for leaking classified photos of me. "I want to apologize to you both, and especially Y/n for all that has happened."
"It's not like you leaked them," Jungkook says, scoffing a little. Gok Ji looks down at a notepad that is on his lap and continues on with the interview. "A lot of people want to know, was the guy ever caught?"
Gok Ji's question immediately caught my attention since this is information that not even, I knew. Jungkook didn't want me to stress about anything, especially while I was still healing from my injuries, but he refused to tell me anything about the man who kidnapped me. Jungkook clears his throat and nods. "The man who took her is in custody, but that's all I can say while an investigation is going on."
Gok Ji nods his head and continues to ask both of them a couple more questions, but I don't pay attention to the interview anymore. Locking my phone, I place my phone on the counter and finish making my coffee, wondering what happened to the man who caused this much damage to my life.
A few seconds after setting down my phone, I suddenly hear glass breaking upstairs. Gasping, I grab the first knife I see and slowly move out of the kitchen.
Instead of going upstairs, I begin to head somewhere to hide when I am grabbed from behind.
I let out a scream, and a hand quickly covers my mouth, and the knife was taken from my side. "You and I have somethings to discuss Ms. Park" A familiar, terrifying voice says in my ear.
What did you think? I would love to hear your feedback!
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mysweetkittae · 2 days ago
Text
When The Sun Rises (Ch.8)
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01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
Characters: Actor!Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 6,421
Warnings: Depression, anxiety, mentions of past child neglect, mentions of past parental death, I promise there is happiness and hope in this.
Author’s Note: This story is fully written and will be updated weekly! It will also be posted on AO3 if you would prefer to read it there.
Summary: Everything felt numb, the heavy weight of nothingness having long found purchase in the spaces between Jungkook's ribs. It was all he knew – to run, so far away that his fears could never catch him – until one day he couldn’t anymore. Until one day there was nowhere left for him to run; nowhere left for him to hide. And then someone came along – kind and loving and patient, the wisps of the morning rays to illuminate his endless night sky – and suddenly Jungkook didn’t want to run anymore. For the first time in his life, he no longer wanted to hide – he just wanted to be free.
And think about it he did.
All day.
Every day.
Non-stop.
The days were counting down to when he would finally have to leave what had been his home for almost half a year, and as a result he tried to spend as much time with Y/N as he could. Namjoon and Seokjin kept pushing him towards her saying that they wanted to spend time to explore alone, knowing well that he wanted to hang out with her but also didn’t want to leave his friends.
As fun as the last few days they had together were, with helping train Hoseok and having fun like they always did, it was also laced with the sadness of Jungkook leaving. There were no more plans being made for next week, no more promises of early morning or late night walks.
The final time they visited the cove together was a few hours before Jungkook's train, the sun not yet awoken and the tide not low enough for them to sit on the rocks. It was silent, only the sound of the wind rustling between them hanging in the air. Even the ocean was still, the waves holding their breath as they lay witness.
“Promise me you'll come and visit?” Y/N asked as she tried to hold back her tears.
“Of course, I’ll come back whenever I can. You have to come and see me too though, okay?” Jungkook replied, just as much longing in his voice.
“Mmh,” she nodded in reply, hand subtly trying to wipe her tears.
“I'm really, really going to miss this place. I'm so glad I came here,” he breathed gratefully, eyes taking in the view one last time.
“Me too. I'm so glad I met you. I'm going to miss you so much, it’ll be so quiet without you,” she whispered, no longer bothering to hide her tears.
Jungkook pulled her in for a hug, softly stroking her hair. “I'm going to miss you too, but hey, at least you have Hoseok to keep you company,” he smiled, trying to hide the ache in his heart.
“He’s not you though,” she mumbled lowly.
“You still have me, just a little further away than you'd like,” Jungkook tried to console.
“I'm just worried about you, y’know? What if things don’t turn out the way you want them to?”
“Then I’ll just have to find another way, won't I? You're the one who told me that I have to take the risk otherwise I'd live my whole life wondering ‘what if?’”
“I know, I know. And I know you'll do great in whatever you do, but it still sucks that you have to leave,” Y/N pouted, lips sliding into a grimace.
“I'm not going forever,” he reminded, “I’ll be back before you know it! Besides, technology is a thing, you know? I can call you every day and see your face.”
“It’s not the same though,” she retaliated.
“No, but it’s enough until I see you again.”
  ☽ ☼ ☾
 Jungkook felt his phone buzz in his pocket, Namjoon calling him to tell him it was time.
The two solemnly made their way back to the hotel, where they loaded their luggage into Y/N's car and made their way to the train station.
The four of them waited sombrely at the platform, idle chatter exchanged to pass the time until the inevitable announcement came of the train arriving, and with it, their farewell.
“It was so nice to see you, Y/N,” Seokjin said as he gave her a hug, smiling softly as he pulled away.
“It was lovely meeting you too,” she smiled back, a mirrored expression on her face.
“Thank you for looking after Jungkook all this time,” Namjoon whispered in her ear when it was his turn to hug her.
“It was my pleasure,” she answered, voice starting to crack at the reality of the situation.
“I'm gonna miss you so much,” Jungkook whimpered as he held her close, fingers gripping tightly around the fabric of her jacket.
“Me too. But I’ll see you soon, yeah? You'll ace your audition and film an amazing movie and then we’ll get to see each other again. You can't get rid of me that easily,” Y/N tried to joke, downplaying the heaviness weighing down her chest.
“As if I could ever dare do such a thing,” Jungkook scoffed. I love you too much for that.
“Just look after yourself okay? Don’t overwork yourself, and make sure that you always put yourself first. Nothing is more important than your health and happiness, don’t ever forget that,” she reminded, frowning a little as she pulled back to look him in the eyes.
“You better not overwork yourself either. Stop putting others before yourself all the time and make sure you have time for yourself. Don’t burn yourself out like I did,” Jungkook chastised.
“I’ll try my best,” Y/N sighed, knowing well that she wouldn’t keep her word.
“Good. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”
They both smiled bitterly, holding each other one last time before it was finally time to get on the train.
Jungkook sat by the window and kept looking at Y/N, not taking his eyes off her once until the train moved out of sight. Sighing deeply and sinking into his seat, he covered his face with his clothes and curled into a ball, eyes scrunched shut.
“You'll be okay,” Namjoon comforted from the seat in front of him, hand resting on top of the table.
“Will I?”
“Yes, you will. This isn't the olden days, you know, phones exist. Stop being so dramatic.”
“Leave me alone, let me drown in my misery,” Jungkook whined theatrically.
“Dude, it’s literally been less than two minutes. Calm down,” Namjoon said, rolling his eyes.
“No,” Jungkook whined, almost on the ground with how far he had slumped on the seat.
“Honestly, Kook, what are we supposed to do with you?” Namjoon wondered, this time with less bite.
Jungkook grunted in response, laying as far as he could to his side and trying to sleep.
Namjoon and Seokjin sighed as they watched him slowly fall asleep, body covered by his coat as he shut himself out of his reality.
“Joonie… he’ll be okay, won't he?” Seokjin asked in concern, brows furrowing at the thought of Jungkook hurting again.
“I think so. He's a strong kid; he's been through much worse and still managed to get past it. It might take some time, but I really do believe that he’ll be alright in the end,” Namjoon replied optimistically.
“I hope so, I hate seeing him suffer so much. It’s not fair,” Seokjin complained forlornly, “why can't the universe just let him live peacefully for once? He doesn’t deserve this.”
Namjoon kissed the back of Seokjin's hand in comfort, fingers remaining intertwined as their heads moved to lean against each other. The two of them slowly fell into a slumber not long after, the landscape around them rapidly changing from the greens and blues of the seaside to the harsh greys of the big cities.
Jungkook woke up around half an hour before they arrived, stretching the kinks out of his body and yawning his remaining fatigue away. He put his left elbow on the table in front of him and leaned his cheek on his hand, head resting on the window.
A smile painted his lips as he saw Namjoon and Seokjin sleeping in the seats opposite, leaning against each other with Namjoon's left arm wrapped around Seokjin's waist. Despite all the years that had passed, Jungkook maintained the fact that he had never seen two people more in love than Namjoon and Seokjin. There was so much respect between the two of them, so much comfort and ease that would normally go unnoticed to the common eye, but Jungkook saw it all.
He saw how their bodies gravitated towards each other like the Earth and Moon, never feeling complete without the company of each other. He saw how they never had to say anything, how they just knew how the other was feeling and what they were thinking. He saw the unconditional support whenever one of them wanted to pursue a dream that meant they had to spend time apart, the wanting of the best for each other greater than any selfish desire. If there were to ever to be a relationship to look up to, ever a couple to prove that soulmates existed, it would without a doubt be them.
Jungkook tapped them awake ten minutes before reaching the station, the three of them getting their luggage and preparing to leave. Jungkook could feel his heart beating faster in his chest every minute they got closer to arriving, this fantasy that he had been living in for the past five months very quickly coming to an end.
Once he got off this train he would have to go back to being Jeon Jungkook the actor, rather than Jeon Jungkook the person, and he didn’t know if he would be able to cope. He knew that he was in a much better mindset than he was when he first left, but he had completely removed himself from the city and the entertainment industry for so long that he had no idea how he would react to being back.
He had no idea what films had come out in the time he was gone, no idea what scandals had been revealed or which celebrities now ruled the media. He didn’t even have any idea what people were saying about him. Were they wondering where he had been for so long, or did they not even care? Were his fans still waiting for him, or did they all jump ship and move onto the next big thing once he was gone? Would he be able to perform in front of the director at his audition or would he screw up and be laughed out of the studio for being a miserable failure?
“-kook? Jungkook?”
“Huh?” He said as he broke out of his trance, thoughts vanishing as he saw Namjoon staring at him.
“The train’s stopping, let’s go,” he motioned his head towards the door, standing up and grabbing their suitcases.
Sighing heavily and pushing his worries to the back of his mind, Jungkook followed after them, keeping his head down as he stepped onto the crowded platform and walked towards the carpark when Kyungmin was waiting for them. She almost knocked Jungkook to the ground when he approached her car, her arms wrapping around him in such a vice-like grip that he swore he felt his bones crack.
But he loved it anyway.
He loved the way that in that moment he felt so safe and secure, like she was squeezing away every worry that was wriggling through his veins and replacing them with love and happiness.
“I missed you,” he whispered into her ear as he hugged her with just as much vigour, lifting her up a little and swaying her side to side.
“Not as much as I missed you,” she smiled. “Now come on, let’s get you all in the car.”
“Kyungie,” Namjoon said in annoyance as he opened the boot.
“What?”
“Why is your luggage in the car?” He asked despondently.
“Because I'm staying at Kook’s house? You know this,” she frowned, almost irritated at the ridiculous question.
“Yeah but why couldn’t you have gotten it later? How are we supposed to fit all our stuff now?” He groaned, fingers beginning to writhe in agitation.
“Did you honestly think I was gonna make an extra trip just for my stuff?” She asked in disbelief. “Squeeze it all in, I’m sure it'll fit, I didn’t bring that much stuff.”
“I hope you know that it won't all fit in the boot. Why do you have such a small car?!” Namjoon grunted as he tried, but failed, to push one of the suitcases in the boot.
“Well I'm sorry for trying to be economical and not buying an obnoxiously large car for just one person. I'm not a narcissist.”
“But where are we going to put it?! We can't just leave it here!” He cried in exasperation, sweat tingling over his skin as he resorted to using his shoulder to make it fit.
“Just… shove it in the back seat or something. We’ll manage,” Kyungmin rolled her eyes, disregarding the death stare her older brother sent her way.
It took all four of them to fit all of their bags and suitcases into the car, leaving only one and a half seats in the back.
“How are we going to fit?” Jungkook asked, worried about how uncomfortable this would be.
“Guys, it’s fine, we’ll manage,” she replied.
“It’s alright for you, you have enough space!” Namjoon grumbled, eyeing the passenger seat.
As soon as he touched the handle she swatted it away, glaring at him. “You have to sit in the back.”
“Why?!”
“I don’t trust you to sit at the front with me,” Kyungmin announced tightly.  
“I drive Jungkook around all the time! I'm more than capable,” Namjoon cried in complaint.
“I still don’t trust you.”
“Do I get to sit at the front then?” Jungkook chimed, pushing his way towards the front seat, only to have his hand smacked away as well.
“Nope, don’t you dare try to sit in the front.”
“Why not?! I'm a great driving partner! Have you forgotten our road trip already?” Jungkook balked, fighting against Kyungmin prying his fingers from the handle.
“That’s exactly why you're not allowed to sit in the front, you almost got us killed – multiple times.”
“That’s not my fault!” Jungkook cried in despair, affronted by the accusation. “The GPS kept breaking and taking us on weird paths, it’s not my fault!”
“You nearly directed us head on into a lorry. Three times.”
“It wasn’t my fault…” he pouted, remembering his trip with Kyungmin when they were younger and how the universe continuously conspired against him and the GPS kept giving them the wrong directions, leading him to direct Kyungmin to the wrong places and constantly almost get crushed by significantly larger vehicles.
Kyungmin had not been happy with him.
“Point is, you're not sitting next to me. The only person I trust is Jinnie.”
The two of them looked at Seokjin in disbelief, Namjoon scoffing at Seokjin's Cheshire cat grin as he flaunted his way into the front seat. Namjoon and Jungkook were left to somehow fit into the back, with Namjoon squashed against the door and Jungkook's right leg draped over Namjoon's in attempt to not be crushed by the luggage.
“I hate you both so much,” Namjoon spat, arms resting on Jungkook's leg.
“Sorry, what was that?” Seokjin called, cupping his hand around the back of his ear. “We can't hear you over all this leg room.”
  ☽ ☼ ☾
 Arriving back at his apartment complex was a weird feeling for Jungkook. He could feel his body curling in on itself when the security guards greeted him, the eyes of everyone in the building staring at him as he returned home for the first time in months. He continuously hid behind Namjoon until they were inside the lift, body subconsciously seeking protection from him.
When they finally made it to the front of his door, his finger hesitated before the keypad, lungs seconds from collapsing in on themselves at the thought of returning to the place that he was supposed to call home; to the place that was supposed to be his sanctuary. Kyungmin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile that spoke all the words he needed to hear in that moment.
Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door and took his first step in.
I'm home.
It wasn’t as cold as he was expecting it to be, nor was it filled head to toe with cobwebs and ghosts coming to haunt him for his sins.
“I've been making sure that the cleaners regularly came around and kept this place in check, I didn’t want you coming back to a dusty apartment.”
Jungkook smiled faintly at Namjoon's statement, wondering how he even thought that Namjoon wouldn’t have made sure his apartment was spotless and warm for his return.
“Because I'm a better sibling that Namjoon is I made sure to fill your fridge without even having to be asked. You're welcome,” Kyungmin inserted, grinning at Namjoon as she pushed past him to open the fridge door, unnecessarily modelling it to everyone.
“Wait, when did you fill it?” Namjoon questioned, eyes squinting at her.
“Last night, why?”
“If you came last night then why didn’t you bring your stuff with you?!” He exclaimed in exasperation, arms waving in the air and almost hitting Seokjin square in the face.
“Because I still needed some of my stuff! If I brought it all here then what would I have used last night or this morning, huh?! I STILL NEEDED TO BRUSH MY TEETH I'M SORRY FOR HAVING BASIC PERSONAL HYGEINE!” She yelled back, slamming the fridge shut as her eyes bulged at the accusation.
“Well maybe you could’ve kept your toothbrush with you and brought the rest of your stuff last night so that today when you were picking us up from the train station with all our luggage we might have actually had some space to breathe! I know you have a big mouth but your toothbrush would’ve hardly taken up much space!” Namjoon yelled back with equal might.
Thank God fancy apartments are thoroughly soundproof.
Seokjin and Jungkook jumped to hold the two of them away from each other, pinning their arms to their waists so they couldn’t claw each other’s faces off.
“Children please, behave yourselves,” Seokjin begged, grunting from having to keep Namjoon from throwing a pillow to his sister’s face.
“Kyungie please your elbows are so pointy,” Jungkook cried in pain, her elbows constantly poking him in the ribs as she tried to escape his grip. “Kyungmin,” Jungkook added, voice sterner now than before. “I swear to God I will sit on you if you don’t stop moving right now. Namjoon, you too.”
The two of them slowly came to a halt, eyes trained to the floor as they remembered their regular childhood punishment. Though Namjoon and Kyungmin were always super close, it didn’t stop them from constantly bickering with one another. It was almost impossible to stop them, until one day Jungkook discovered that sitting on them seemed to be the only way to make them listen.
Something about their organs being squished and not being able to breathe or something.
“Finally,” Seokjin breathed in relief, loosening his hold around Namjoon. “I thought I was gonna have to tranquilise you or something.”
“No tranquilisation will be necessary today,” Namjoon pouted, starting to move the luggage to the bedroom in embarrassment.
Jungkook chuckled to himself as he joined Namjoon, grateful that his family were able to distract him from his thoughts for some time.
Jungkook went into the shower first to rid himself of all the grime that travelling brought, brain and body no longer used to, what he realised now, was an unnecessarily extravagant bathroom significantly larger than the hotel room he had been staying in. The high pressure of the shower relieved some of the tension in his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to truly enjoy it.
He sat cross legged on the cold tiles, fingers tracing the pooling water as the droplets pelted his head. He closed his eyes and listened, the sound of his heavy breaths and heart beat echoing in his ears as the water rushing down around him, only getting up when the stinging of the heat on his back got to be too much.
Roughly drying his body and hair with the towel, Jungkook stood before the fogged up mirror, one hand gripping on to the counter as the other messily wiped the condensation away. He stared at his reflection, noticing the way that his hair was longer than when he left home, the way his face had filled out a bit, the way his eyes didn’t look as empty. So much had happened in the past five months, and though his heart and mind may not have healed completely, though he knew that right now was difficult, he knew that he was on his way. The corner of his lips forcefully pushed up into a smile, trying to remember all of the good things that had happened to him.
“You’ve been doing well, Jungkook,” he muttered to himself as he patted his cheeks. “I believe in you… kind of.”
He really did enjoy himself the rest of the night as the four of them ate and chattered and watched their favourite movies for the millionth time. Jungkook's heart wasn’t a hundred percent in it, but he was getting there, and he was trying, and that was enough for him. It was enough that in those moments, with the people that he loved the most, he wasn’t lying to himself. He wasn’t putting on a façade, and he wasn’t pretending that there was nothing wrong with him.
He was just… him, and that was more than enough.
Namjoon, Kyungmin and Seokjin didn’t speak to him like he was fragile, they didn’t treat him like his bones were made of glass and that he could shatter at any moment. They were kind to him, and they were understanding, but they never once made him feel like he was any less than a person.
It was frustrating to Jungkook, to see himself take two steps forward and four steps back, but he was trying to be kinder to himself too. He knew that coming back home would be tough, he knew that leaving Y/N behind would be tough, but he had prepared himself for this. Y/N had truly believed in him, and he didn’t want to let her down. He wanted to do his best and make her proud that he didn’t give up, but if things didn’t work out, then at least he could say he’d tried.
At least, that was the plan.
It was way past midnight by the time they decided it was time for bed, exhaustion finally catching up on them.
“Hey, you sure you'll be alright sleeping by yourself?” Namjoon asked, hand resting on Jungkook shoulder.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I'm okay,” Jungkook reassured.
“I know but… night is difficult,” Namjoon said carefully, knowing all too well how the darkness wrapped itself around your ribs tighter when the moon was highest, twisting its way into every crevice.
“I promise you I’ll be okay. You guys are next door anyway, if I need you I promise I’ll come to you.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes. I pinkie promise that should I require your services I shall send a messenger to promptly retrieve you.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes at Jungkook's fake serious demeanour, patting him on the back before calling out a “goodnight, loser” as he walked away.
Jungkook sighed as he crawled into his cold bed, rolling to the side to grab his phone to distract him from his niggling thoughts. He unlocked the screen to see a message from Y/N, a smile forming on his face as he felt his heart begin to swell.
  >> From: Y/N
Hey, I hope your journey was alright
How does it feel to be back?
My grandparents said hi btw
Anyway you're probably really busy right now so I’ll talk to you later?
Only if you have time though! I know you have loads of stuff to do
  Jungkook pouted at the last couple of messages, seeing it timed to hours after the first and realising that she must have thought she was disturbing him.
  << From: Jeon Jungkook
Hey
Sorry for replying so late today was super hectic and I didn’t get a chance to check my messages
The journey was alright just kinda tiring
It’s not as bad as I thought it would be but it feels a bit weird being back home
And tell your grandparents I said hi too! I really miss them :(
  Almost immediately he got a reply, heart jumping at the sound of the notifications.
  >> From: Y/N
I'm glad!
I'm sure it must be weird after being away for so long, but it’s good that it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be!
 << From: Jeon Jungkook
Yeah, small steps right?
How come you're not asleep? It’s really late
 >> From: Y/N
I could ask you the same thing
But to answer your question I couldn’t sleep
 << From: Jeon Jungkook
Me neither
Why can't you sleep?
 >> From: Y/N
Just
You
?
 << From: Jeon Jungkook
Just
  He could see the text bubble repeatedly appearing and disappearing, Y/N writing and rewriting her message, just as he was, neither of them knowing exactly what to write. After a few moments of contemplation, Jungkook sent her a message.
  << From: Jeon Jungkook
Can I call you?
  She spent a few moments hesitating, finally answering.
 >> From: Y/N
Yeah
  Sighing in relief, Jungkook pressed the call button and held his phone close to his ear, hand resting on his chest to calm his heart. After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally picked up, whispering a breathy “hi” into the receiver.
“Hey,” Jungkook whispered back, relief flooding his veins at hearing her voice.
They both remained silent for a few moments, neither of them knowing how to start.
Y/N eventually spoke, a simple “how are you?” escaping her lips.
“I'm okay, a little dazed if I'm being honest, but definitely okay.”
“That’s good, that’s really good, Jungkook. I'm happy that you're doing okay. How is everyone else?”
“They're okay too, it’s been a while since all four of us have been together so today was incredibly loud and full of bickering, but it was really fun. It reminded me of when we were kids again,” Jungkook smiled, remembering the events of earlier in the day.
“It sounds like you guys had a great time,” Y/N giggled, thankful that Jungkook had good people around him.
“Yeah. How about you? How was today?”
“It was alright, I guess. It felt weird having to do everything by myself again, I got so used to having you around that I forgot what silence was like.”
“I know what you mean. There hasn’t been a moment of silence all day but it still felt so… quiet. I'm so used to being around you all day that it feels really weird not hearing your voice every five seconds.”
“The house seems really empty without you, and without Namjoon and Seokjin, we got so used to the house being so full that now you’ve all gone it doesn’t feel right,” she told him, smile steadily dropping at how unnatural it felt.
“I really miss your grandparents, I know it’s only been a day but are they doing okay?” Jungkook wondered, rolling onto his side.
“Yeah they're alright, they really miss you too though.”
Jungkook paused, wondering if he should ask or not. “Just them?”
He heard her breathe a bit more heavily, a faint sniffle reaching his ear.
“No. I… I really miss you too, Jungkook. A lot,” she said truthfully, the quietness of the night leaving her heart exposed.
“Me too. I really miss you a lot too,” he mumbled.
They both remained silent once more, just listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.
“Hey, Y/N?” Jungkook asked after some time, eyes drifting to the neon glow of the city outside of his window. “Can you hear the ocean?”
“Yeah, I can.”
“C-could you maybe let me hear it? I can't hear anything from my room, and I really miss the sound of it.”
“Yeah, of course.”
He heard ruffling on the other side, presumably from her getting out of bed and opening the window for the sound to be clearer. She held the phone in the direction of the ocean, the crashing of the waves flooding Jungkook's ears as he clasped a hand to his mouth, trying to hold back the sudden onset of tears as the familiar sound blanketed his body in comfort.
Once the silent tears had run from his body, their new home the depths of his silk pillows, Jungkook whispered a small and cracked “thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, this is your home too,” Y/N responded earnestly.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” he replied, closing his eyes as he remembered all of the happy memories he had made there.
“We should probably get to sleep, it’s late,” Y/N eventually said reluctantly, not wanting to hang up but knowing that she had to be responsible.
“Yeah, probably. But I’ll keep texting you and calling you, okay? And you should too. I'm never too busy for friends,” he replied sternly, a reminder for her previous apology.
“I will,” she laughed, voice light and airy as the ocean breeze flittering around her room. “Goodnight, Jungkook. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.” Nibbling on his bottom lip, he reluctantly hung up, placing his phone on the bedside table and dragging his duvet above his head, sealing him away from the outside world.
Jungkook naturally woke up early, so used to rising with the sun for so many months. He made his way to the window and sighed as he looked at the skyscrapers that lined the horizon, only the greys of concrete buildings and the reflective windows staring back at him.
He decided to take a shower, hoping that the sound of the water would trick his brain into thinking it was the ocean. He sat on the floor once more, letting the water pelt down on his head to try and numb his brain. Wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his forehead on them, he let the thrumming infiltrate his ears, slowly falling asleep.
“-Kook? Jungkook can you hear me?” Jungkook jolted awake at the sound of banging on the bathroom door.
“Jungkook open the door,” Namjoon called loudly, fists banging even harder.
Blinking the water away from his eyes, Jungkook dazedly turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist, hobbling to the door and pulling it open. As soon as he did Namjoon pulled him in tightly for a hug, quickly pulling him back to inspect him.
“Why didn’t you answer?” He interrogated in despair, fingers roaming to check Jungkook's wrists and head.
“Sorry, I fell asleep,” he croaked, body dehydrated from being under hot water for so long.
“I was so worried, you were in there for ages and you didn’t respond, I thought something happened to you,” Namjoon breathed heavily, heart pulsating beneath his now-wet shirt from when he had pulled Jungkook close.
“No, I'm okay. Sorry for worrying you,” Jungkook apologised, eyes flittering over Namjoon's distressed state.
“Just… just don’t scare me like that again okay? I really thought you had hurt yourself,” he mumbled.
“Joon… you know I would never do that,” Jungkook replied firmly as he looked him in the eye.
“I know but, brains don’t exactly listen when you're scared, do they? I couldn’t help but think of the worst,” Namjoon defended.
“I guess. How did you know I was in the shower though? I woke up really early,” Jungkook questioned as he grabbed another towel and started drying himself off, wincing as he pressed his now-raw scalp.
“I heard the shower being turned on and couldn’t go back to sleep. The perks of manager life I guess, you wake up at the slightest of sounds.”
“Does Seokjin know?”
“That man sleeps like the dead, you could dump a bucket of cold water on him and he wouldn’t wake up,” Namjoon answered into his palms, hands running over his face.
“Could we… could we maybe not tell him? And Kyungmin. I don’t want them to worry unnecessarily,” he requested, finger scratching the side of his head.
“Of course, don’t even worry about it. Now come on, get dressed and we can eat breakfast in peace before they wake up.”
Jungkook nodded in relief and finished getting ready, smile slowly returning to his face.
Breakfast was simple, nothing like what Y/N had been feeding him, but it was still comforting in a way he never would’ve thought he would miss. It was peaceful, sitting at the kitchen island with the sun softly filtering through the windows, speckles of dust dancing through the air.
“How was last night? Were you okay?” Namjoon carefully questioned as he spooned another bite of cereal into his mouth, a drop of milk dripping onto his chin.
“Yeah it was okay, just a bit strange,” Jungkook admitted. “I ended up calling Y/N and had her let me listen to the ocean which was nice. I really miss it.”
“You must do, you became so used to hearing it every night. Do you think one of those apps with ocean sounds would help?” He offered, words jumbled around the spoon.
“Nah, those things are rubbish,” Jungkook side-eyed. “I’ve tried a few before and they sound nothing like the real thing.”
“Ah, I guess it’s impossible to replicate Mother Nature.”
“Yup, there’s only one of Her and She cannot be replaced.”
“Hmm, I'm glad you were able to speak to Y/N, was she doing okay?”
“Yeah, it was kinda comforting being able to hear her voice again, it felt weird not speaking to her all day yesterday,” Jungkook confessed. “She's doing alright, she just said that it was weird having to do everything by herself again. And she said that her grandparents missed us, which was really nice,” he added with a warm smile, longing desperately to be with them now.
“Jin was actually talking about them last night, we were saying how much we missed them too,” Namjoon nodded in agreement, chin resting on his fist. “I really, really loved being with them, they're such lovely people.”
“I heard my name, what are you saying about me?” Seokjin yawned as he walked in, sleep still evident on his face.
“That you're a nuisance to society and should be locked up for everyone’s safety,” Namjoon said as he stuck his tongue out at him, not a single trace of maturity to be seen.
“He said that you were talking about how much you missed Y/N's grandparents, I spoke with her last night and she was saying how they missed us too,” Jungkook replied, smiling at their playfulness.
Seokjin ‘accidentally’ bumped into Namjoon as he made his way to his seat, stealing Namjoon's bowl of cereal and forcing him to get another for himself.
“Oh, yeah. I know we only came back yesterday but I really want to go again when we get a chance. I'm sure you'd love to go and visit a certain someone, wouldn’t you Jungkookie,” Seokjin added, wiggling his eyebrows menacingly.
“Oh shush,” Jungkook mumbled, eyes focusing on the bowl as he tried to control the heat rising to his face.
“Good morning peasants plus Jinnie!” Kyungmin announced as she slammed the door, her usual bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed demeanour masking any sign of fatigue.
“Morning, Princess,” Seokjin said with a sweet smile, getting up to help Kyungmin make her breakfast.
“Don’t indulge her,” Jungkook and Namjoon said in unison, rolling their eyes at her as she stuck her tongue out at them.
“How are you a grown woman,” Namjoon mumbled under his breath, wondering where he went wrong in her upbringing.
  ☽ ☼ ☾
 After breakfast had finished Namjoon and Jungkook got to work on the audition, running through the selection of scenes they had been sent. Once Jungkook started he managed to push aside any other thoughts he had and focused solely on the script, analysing the personality of the character and figuring out the best way to portray them and bring them to life. He was slowly starting to get back in the swing of things, years of training coming back to him like muscle memory.
The next couple of weeks went by in a blur, each day spent rehearsing with Namjoon when he wasn’t fulfilling his other manger duties and Namjoon, Seokjin and Kyungmin spending time with him in the evenings after work, trying their best to help him get accustomed to being back.
His highlight of each day though was talking to Y/N every night. Whether it was texting each other, calling, or Zooming, most nights they would talk for upwards of an hour, just catching each other up on what was going on and with random conversations.
Y/N had taken it upon herself to record different sounds and sights from the town to send to Jungkook every day. She would record each sunrise and sunset she would see, she’d record the sound of the ocean every morning and night, she’d record the view of outside from the room Jungkook was staying in, and the view from their secret location. She’d send him loads of pictures and update him on every little thing that was going on, about customers and how Hoseok was getting along with his training.
It was what he looked forward to every day and it was what kept him going through work. Even though he was back home it felt like he was still there, and it made his transition into his previous life much easier since it didn’t feel like something that had become such an integral part of him had been abruptly cut out.
Y/N made sure to let Jungkook know regularly how proud of him she was no matter what happened and that as long as he tried his best nothing else mattered. Although his friends had been saying the same thing to him, for some reason it meant more to him coming from Y/N. He had thought that physically being away from Y/N would help him clear his mind and determine whether his feelings towards her were just due to her proximity and him being vulnerable and dependent and therefore latching himself onto to the closest person, but if anything the distance made his heart ache for her more, and now he wasn’t sure if it was because of the stress of the audition.
Once the audition is over, he tried telling himself, making any excuse that he could to try and avoid confronting how he really felt.
Once the audition is over then I’ll see.
17 notes · View notes
venusiangguk · a month ago
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the art of doubting | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst
>>word count: 17k -.-
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs
>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.
Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.
Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.
“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”
You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.
“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”
You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.
He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”
You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.
Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.
It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.
On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.
You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”
He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”
“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”
It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.
There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.
Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”
His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.
Wish you could have come
It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.
“What flavor is it?”
“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.
“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.
Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.
He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.
“Do them over me.”
Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I wanna help,” you reason.
“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.
You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”
“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”
“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”
“You are so ungrateful.”
He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”
You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”
“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.
“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.
He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.
But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.
You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.
Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.
Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.
Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”
A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.
He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.
“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.
The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.
He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.
You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.
He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.
“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.
When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.
You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”
Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.
Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.
When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.
His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.
His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.
“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”
Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.
“Keep licking,” he moans.
You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.
You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.
In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.
Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.
He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.
The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.
You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.
Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.
You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.
“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.
“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.
The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.
As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.
He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.
“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.
Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.
“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.
He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”
“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.
You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”
When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.
It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.
Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.
It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.
His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.
He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.
His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.
“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”
He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.
“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.
The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.
At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.
“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.
He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.
Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.
He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.
“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.
Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.
“Look baby,” he tells you.
It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.
Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.
“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.
Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.
“Faster– getting close...”
Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.
“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.
He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”
And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.
“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”
That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”
You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.
“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”
It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.
“Who are you asking?”
A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.
“I…”
“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.
You say the first thing that pops into your head.
“Daddy?”
A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.
“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”
At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.
“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”
Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.
“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”
Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.
You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.
The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.
“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.
“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.
And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.
“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.
He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.
And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”
“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”
He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.
The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.
His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.
“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”
Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.
You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.
“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.
Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–
“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.
“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.
Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.
He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.
You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.
He kisses you again and again and again.
~~~
There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.
When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.
Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.
Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.
He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.
He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.
It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.
It feels like a–
It feels like–
Jeongguk takes his time with you.
It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.
He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.
He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.
When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.
After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”
~~~
“Wear this one, you look good in white.”
Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.
He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.
“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.
“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.
He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”
You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”
The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.
“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.
Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  
So of course you just change the subject.
“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”
“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”
“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”
He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”
And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.
He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.
He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.
Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”
Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.
You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.
“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.
“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.
The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.
The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.
When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.
In front of you is not a delivery guy.
It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.
And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.
Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.
It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.
At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.
“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.
The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.
And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.
“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.
The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.
“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.
She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.
“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”
Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.
And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?
At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.
“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.
Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.
“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.
Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”
“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.
Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.
And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.
You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”
“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.
“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.
“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.
Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.
“Who is that, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.
“She’s a friend,” he sighs.
“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.
Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”
He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.
“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”
And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.
It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.
“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.
Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”
Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”
“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”
Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.
He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.
“I…”
Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.
Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.
“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”
Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.
But the point is made all the same.
“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.
“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”
Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.
“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.
The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.
He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.
“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”
Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.
It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.
“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”
Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”
They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.
“Drive safe, Som-ie.”
~~~
“Yeah… Joofs.”
The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  
And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?
You had at least expected him to defend you.
To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?
Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.
If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.
So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.
But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.
“Naaa.”
You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.
“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”
Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.
“Buu?” she asks.
In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.
Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.
Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.
It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.
“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.
She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.
“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.
“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”
Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi,” he says back.
“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.
You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.
“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”
“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.
“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”
He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.
“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.
You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.
“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.
Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”
Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.
It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.
You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.
He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.
It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.
He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”
You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”
Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.
“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”
You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.
He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?
For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.
Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.
“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.
“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.
You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.
He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.
Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.
It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  
A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.
“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.
“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.
“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”
His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.
The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”
The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.
“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.
Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”
“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”
The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.
~~~
The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.
But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.
You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.
It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.
He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.
It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.
His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.
The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.
“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.
“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.
Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”
You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”
And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.
Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.
It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.
Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.
“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.
She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.
“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”
You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.
“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.
Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.
It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.
The scene is domestic.
“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.
Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”
“Has she always been a co sleeper?”
Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”
At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.
It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.
You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”
Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.
“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”
~~~
Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.
Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.
When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.
“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”
She blows a bubble up at him.
His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.
“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.
Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.
“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”
“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.
Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.
Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”
Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”
Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”
“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”
“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”
“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”
“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”
“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”
“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”
Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.
“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.
“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”
Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.
Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.
“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”
“Is it warm enough?”
“Yes, I think she wants you.”
Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”
“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”
Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”
As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.
“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.
He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.
Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.
“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”
She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”
“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”
The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.
“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”
Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.
“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”
“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”
Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.
“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”
She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”
“That’s not what I’m asking–”
“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”
Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.
It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”
Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”
And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.
~~~
“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.
“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.
“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”
You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.
“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”
“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.
Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”
Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”
He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.
“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”
“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.
Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.
“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.
And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.
At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”
You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”
His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”
Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”
Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”
You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”
And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”
It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.
But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”
Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.
Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.
His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.
“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.
That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.
“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.
Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”
“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”
His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.
You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.
It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.
Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.
“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.
“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.
Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”
“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.
“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”
Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.
“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”
You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.
It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.
Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”
Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–
“It’s not that simple, baby…”
–and it’s over.
“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”
And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.
He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”
“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.
“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.
Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.
“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”
It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?
“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”
He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”
It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.
Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–
“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.
Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”
And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.
“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.
He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”
“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  
When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”
You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.
“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”
“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”
“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.
“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.
“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”
Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”
A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.
“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.
Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”
And think you do.
Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?
Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.
“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”
When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.
You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.
~~~~
AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3
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chateautae · 9 days ago
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hotter than hell | jjk. (m)
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banner by miss solaris @jamaisjoons <3
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➵ summary : jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
↳ part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons
➵ pairing : fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader
➵ genre : supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut, three-shot
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 27k
➵ warnings : swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, semi-biblically-accurate depictions of angels and demons, supernatural themes, mentions and depictions of sin, s e x u a l  t e n s i o n, neck-kissing, straddling
➵ a/n : WHY HELLO EVERYONE here’s the demon lucifer jk as promised!! i stayed up an entire night just to create the plot, i hope it delivers!! it’s literally one of the my favourite ideas ever hehe. this is the first part of a three-shot :) please excuse any mistakes or error since I didn’t have a beta and will probably get someone to do so later 🤧 PLEASE IMAGINE MOTS ON:E DAY 1 MY TIME JUNGKOOK FOR THIS Y’ALL, enjoy!! <3
➵ playlist : asshole by hooligan chase
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| 01 | 02 | final. |
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‘Why is she looking at my man?’ 
‘I need to get blackout drunk.’
‘Damn, that girl is fucking hot.’
‘I’ll steal it when he isn’t looking.’
Jungkook’s head rings with an innumerable amount of others’ thoughts, and he can’t seem to silence the blaring volume of them at all.
He’s roaming in complete confusion, clutching his palms over his ears because shit, is everything just so loud. His feet hurt too, when have his feet ever hurt? Why can’t he fucking fly? Why does he suddenly feel so cold?
Jungkook’s bleary vision catches sight of neon signs and lights that invite head-splitting migraines. His usual leather outfit suddenly feels like it’s sticking to his skin too much, and what is this constant pang he feels in his stomach?
He doesn’t know, all he knows is that this isn’t hell, and he definitely should not be here. 
In all his thinking, his shoulder smacks into a passing stranger and he scolds them with stern eyes, only to ram into someone else yet again. 
Fuck, that hurt. Why did that hurt? When has he ever felt pain at all? Jungkook grunts in frustration as he weaves through passing bodies in the streets and eventually tumbles before a closed store. The second he looks through the window, his eyes widen in sheer horror. 
He’s.. he’s human? 
No, impossible. He can’t be human, where did his red eyes go? Why can’t he see his wings? He snaps quick glances at his shoulder blades and finds them empty, even reaching behind his back to only feel a seamless leather jacket. He looks at his hands and sees them just like his usual form, but when did he lose that natural, searing heat to his skin? 
Jungkook can’t think, he can’t understand what’s going on but can only comprehend one very obvious, almost laughable thing. 
He’s been cast out of hell. 
He laughs, then laughs some more because shit, is that goddamn funny, comedic, absolutely hysterical. Lucifer, the king of hell himself, has been cast out of his own kingdom? Sent to Earth as some measly blubbering, putrid human? 
The second Jungkook whips his head around to a horn honking, his equilibrium unbalanced itself, that incessant ringing in his ear returning. He feels too fucking dizzy, the axis of his entire world spinning. Groaning in dull pain, he begins stalking down the street with his clammy palm to his head. 
He bumps into more people and staggers, but he doesn’t care when he can still feel that same agonizing headache plaguing him. His eyesight begins to lose precision, and before he advances, he feels his knees buckle into the nearest alleyway. He drops to the ground hard, and his surroundings disappear before he feels his cheek meet the cold pavement. 
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Monday’s are so goddamn boring. 
Absolutely nothing is special about the dreadful day. All you ever desire is to crawl into a hole and slowly perish. And the only remedy to such an issue? At least to you, it would be a nice, steaming cup of coffee. 
But what absolutely trashes even the taste of coffee on a Monday?
The fact that it’s a Monday.
You drag your feet down the street, listless and exhausted after a tiresome day at work. You loosely clutch your bag over your shoulder as you trudge along, paying attention only squarely in front of you when suddenly, your feet ram into something. You almost trip over, furrowing your brows in confusion as you zero-in on the culprit. 
Once your vision becomes clear, you immediately squeal out in shock. You look carefully to find a man lying unconscious nearby a dumpster, appalled by the disgusting trash that litters the area next to him. 
You step slowly towards the stranger, finding that he’s actually quite… handsome. No, scratch that, he is drop-dead gorgeous, his looks almost too devilishly attractive. He appears fairly young to you as well, maybe the same age as you. You scan his outfit next and find him in a quite showy leather outfit; black boots, sheer-patterned shirt that exposed his body, hair flawlessly framing his face. 
You could’ve believed he was a fallen angel, his almost ethereal aura screaming of an existence far from here. His face structure is almost perfectly crafted from the finest marble, his nose looks boopable and his adorable lips naturally fall into this charming pout. 
Though his cuteness was not to be taken head-on, because you could only imagine what such a beautiful man’s eyes look like, and what allure remained hidden within them. 
You shake your head out of the compromising thoughts, swallowing as you contemplate what to do next. The most logical thing would be to call 911, that would help him out the most, wouldn’t it?
You whip out your phone and tap your screen, only to gain no response. You quirk your brows, clicking your power button and finding your device completely drained of battery. You groan with a roll of your eyes, too shy to inquire another stranger on the street for their phone.
Weighing on the decision that the stranger most likely has a phone, you bite your lip before squatting down by him. You precariously reach into his jacket and gently search for any pockets inside, only met with empty ones. You target his leather pants next and surprisingly come up dry of a phone or wallet, no keys or even a damn stick of gum. 
That leaves you with a real head-scratcher. The stranger seems to have absolutely nothing on him, now suddenly curious of whether or not he's even dead or alive. Heart quickening at the prospect of this being a dead body, you nervously gulp as you carefully take his wrist, and place two fingers against his pulse point. 
You thankfully feel a faint heartbeat and release a breath of relief, thinking quickly on your feet. You couldn’t just leave the stranger to fend for himself, it was already cold tonight and God knows what would happen to him without any of his necessary belongings. 
On a whim and out of sheer concern for the man’s well-being, you decide to haul a cab and take him home with you, hoping to also treat that nasty wound on his cheek. 
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Jungkook feels his consciousness resurfacing, head heavy, legs weighing a ton. His eyes flutter open to a white ceiling, darting around to find himself not on the street, not in hell, but inside a quaint apartment.
He furrows his brows, rubbing lazily at an eye once he does a quick once over of the place. He sincerely doesn’t understand where he is or what he’s doing here, but right now his head is still pounding too hard to even contemplate his next move. 
Sitting up, he swallows to find his throat desert-dry, stomach producing this weird gurgling sound he can’t piece together an answer for, and his eyes feel this hefty weight behind his lids. 
With a sigh, he rises to his feet, steadying himself. He sighs at just how annoyingly human he is, feeling the sensation of his legs aching, his neck adopting a crook from being awkwardly perched on the couch’s armrest, even his cheek stinging with something. 
He touches the afflicted area and instead finds some sort of cloth taped over him, wondering what in the hell it is. He touches it some more, and applies pressure only to hiss at his wound, rolling his eyes at the sensation of pain. 
With a deep exhale to release the frustration from his body, Jungkook notices he can still feel the fiery pits of hell coursing through his veins. That hot flame is still alive inside him, something heated still within his blood and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something about it. With a focused mind and a composed breath, Jungkook attempts to revisit the very first, innate thing about his older form, imagining conjuring up his red, glowing eyes. 
He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and envisions them glowing crimson before he opens them again, feeling a smoldering heat spark in his irises. He spots a mirror by the front door of the apartment and peers at himself, finding his eyes a vibrant, almost fiery red. 
He smirks, proud and satisfied. He’s still got it in him and he’ll be fucked six ways from Sunday if anyone can tell him otherwise. Feeling confident and alive, Jungkook attempts to conjure up some flames in his palms. Lo and behold, after a tense second of undivided focus, a fire gushes open in his bare hands. It feels just like when he’s perched on his throne in hell, Jungkook cracking another smug grin at the power he still holds. 
In that moment however, he hears the distinct clatter of something tumbling to the ground, and whips around to the noise. He shockingly finds a human woman staring at him in utter terror, hand clutched to her heart with her phone on the ground, and cowering into the wall as she shakes profusely. 
You’re stunned, flabbergasted, downright terrified out of your wits seeing the same man you found unconscious in the street now with fire flushing out of his hands. You see him begin to approach you and you’re overridden with fear, screaming at the unnatural sight before you. 
You scream, you scream and scream and look around for objects of any sort. You spot a small bottle of body spray on your hallway counter and immediately fling it towards the man for defence. 
“Get away from me, get away!” 
“Woah, hey, hey! Calm down!” 
But you don’t, and you instead throw other obscure and heavy objects towards him only for him to either burn or dodge them, eliciting even more of your panic. He’s getting closer as he attempts to pacify you, darting by him and running directly towards your kitchen.
Your frazzled brain isn’t thinking and you immediately fling open a cabinet, reaching for the very first thing you see and rapidly grasp a pan. You hold it up ready for punishing the man before he scrambles and hushes your ear-splitting shrills, holding up his hands in surrender. 
“Wait, wait, stop! Shh!” 
“How can I not scream when your eyes are literally red?!” 
Jungkook struggles for a sentence. “Look, just, shh. You’re gonna alarm the people in your building!” 
“That’s the fucking point?! You’re a maniac!” You yell and grab open your drawer of utensils, beginning to chuck forks and spoons at the frantic man. 
“Hey, stop! Would you-stop throwing shit!” Jungkook yells frustratedly as you send him a scowl, only catapulting things harder in response. But suddenly, Jungkook burns a butter knife you haul his way, and fearfully watching it melt right before your eyes. They widen in absolute horror.
You’re seriously, and very horribly fucked.
Panic invades your chest and you spot your phone lying on the ground near your bedroom door, quickly bolting towards it in hopes of calling 911, or at least somebody for help. You dive towards the floor and snatch up your device, racing mind unable to sift through contacts efficiently enough before you feel strong arms quickly caging around you. The stranger traps your wriggling body as he attempts to grab at your phone, yelling angrily. 
“Are you insane?! Why are you calling someone?!” 
“Because you’re a fucking maniac!” 
You struggle against the man’s burly hold and flail around hopelessly, utterly panicking realizing how strong he is.  
Screams escape you as you useslessly fight each other on the floor, incessantly attempting to weaken his grasp. The man with much larger hands than yours however nabs your phone and tosses it into your room somewhere, attempting to hush you as you squeal and kick at him profusely. 
“Stop it, stop! I can explain myself!” 
“I don’t want to hear your fucking evil plan before you kill me!” 
The man’s arms are still, curled around you and hugging your back to his chest, but it’s not a warm welcome at all as he keeps you from escaping, all while you holler incoherently at him to release you. You grow tired of the shenanigans and stuff the meat of his hand in between your teeth, sinking them in with enough force to harm him. The man exclaims in pain as his arms detangle from you. 
“Ow! What the fuck?!” 
You rapidly rise to your feet in search of your phone. It’s laying near your bed and you scamper off towards it, bending down with a grabby hand to reach it, but suddenly feel the man’s heavy figure hurtle you onto the bed. You both tumble onto your mattress, the handsome stranger on top as he locks down your thrashing hands, eyes urgent as he regards you below. 
“Woman, please, please stop screaming.” He warns crucially. “I’m not someone people can know about, we’ll both get in shit!” 
“By who? You’re the only freak here!” You wiggle your smaller wrist out of his grip and reach over for a stray cushion on your bed. You feel the fleecy material in your hand and harshly begin smacking the man with the pillow. 
“Oh c’mon-what the fuck?!” You disarm him completely as he falters at your hits, the stranger toppling onto the ground as you recklessly beat the living hell out of him. 
He crosses his arms over his face in an effort to protect himself, knowing even if you run now, the man seemed strong and smart enough to capture you again; two deadly combinations that could mean your demise. So you decide to keep senselessly whacking the cushion at him until he eventually tires, and you’ll make a break for it, or Mr. and Mrs. Tran next door will most likely come to your rescue. 
You stand above him and yell profanities as you practically abuse the stranger with your pillow. However, the man latches a hand onto the pillow to halt you and causes the cheap material to completely tear open. Feather’s instantly fly out of the cushion and fill your room with white fluffiness, groaning in complaint at the mess. 
You disregard the $4 ripped-up thing, and return to smacking at the man with the pillow cover. 
“Why. The. Fuck. Did you. Rip. My. PILLOW?!” You howl between each of your attacks and the man struggles on the ground as he exclaims in pain, blinded and barely able to shout in return. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Why are you beating me up?!” 
“Says the one who ripped my pillow and tried to murder me!” 
“I’m not even-what!” The stranger shrieks in disbelief. “I never tried to murder you! I didn’t do anything wrong!” 
That response actually halts your actions, freezing once you truly contemplate the stranger didn’t try to exactly kill you or anything, and you’re then in fact assaulting him for no concrete reason. As your easily distracted mind wanders, the man suddenly pulls at your legs with grabby hands. You squeal as you suddenly land on top of his rather muscular body, crashing onto him hard. 
Funny enough, you end up apologizing for settling over him so roughly. “Oh my God, I’m so-” 
“Shh, shh.” The man pushes his index fingers to your lips and his own, shushing you both. There’s a long moment of silence, both you and the albeit, gorgeous man staring into each other’s round eyes as your chests press into each other’s tightly, feathers slowly cascading down around your entangled bodies. 
You swallow as you watch the man underneath you in fear, wondering why he hushed you. You open your mouth to question him but he only shakes his head, warning you with a hush again. 
“Shh, I hear footsteps.” 
Suddenly, your front door is racked with a few hard raps. 
“Who’s-” The man begins a question but you immediately smack your hands over his mouth, silencing him. 
“Shh, don’t say anything!” 
He removes your dainty hands from his lips and surprisingly holds them quite gently. “But is it the police-” 
You clasp them over his mouth tighter, your face and his suddenly mere inches from each other as you tut him. “Shh! They can’t hear another voice!” 
“Honey! Are you in there?” 
You both pause, wide-eyed and frozen in time as you hear the voices of the nice couple that live next door to you. Your fight or flight mode kicks in, stress hormones on high alert as you register the idea of them seeing a random man in your apartment. 
Let alone you on top of him like this.
They’ll assume the worst and get too worried for their own good, sighing with immense anxiety. You rapidly scramble off the leather-wearing stranger and snatch up his wrist, quickly tugging him upwards and onto his feet. He balances himself and you quickly shove him onto your tousled sheets and disorderly feathers. 
“Look, just-stay here.” You hiss in a whisper, gesturing to him to stay put like a pet dog as you rapidly kick some stray feathers that escaped into the hallway inside your bedroom. You fix your outfit with a few strokes and begin shutting the door to hide the man, until he suddenly calls you back with a whisper-yell. 
“Wait, woman!” 
You poke your head back in with an incredulous ‘what the fuck?’, and the man rises as he steps speedily towards you. His hands jut out for what you believe to be in effort to harm you, but instead find your hair and smooth down some of your wild locks, even picking out a fuzzy piece of feather that stuck to your bangs. 
“Oh..” You quietly exclaim, running your hands through your hair for a quick fix.
“Dear, where are you? We’re getting very worried!” You hear Mr. Tran yell more urgently this time, and your hands smack against the strangers to unhand you, pushing him back within the four walls of your bedroom and shutting the door on his handsome face. 
You compose yourself once you’ve done so and reach your foyer, swinging open your front door. 
“Oh dear, Y/N, we were so worried, honey. Are you alright?” Mrs. Tran holds her hand to her chest as she takes a deep breath, Mr. Tran soon joining. 
“Is anything going on, sweetheart? We heard so much yelling.” 
“I’m okay, Mr. and Mrs. Tran. You don’t need to worry about me at all.” 
“Are you sure you’re okay, dear? There was an awful lot of screaming.” Mrs. Tran’s eyes flit around your apartment discreetly. 
“I was just on video call with my friends and they decided to play a scary prank on me.” You bellow out a fake laugh and watch them lighten up, buying the lie. 
“Oh gosh, we thought we heard another man’s voice and got so scared! We’re so glad you’re alright, dear.” Mr. Tran laughs with you, and you kindly reply. 
“Oh not at all! Thank you for checking on me, Mr. and Mrs. Tran.” You smile big and wide to appear okay, momentarily snapping your vision towards your bedroom with a gulp. They end up bidding their farewells and you watch them entirely enter their apartment, sighing with relief once their door closes. 
You shut yours, and practically stomp over to your bedroom as you hurl the door back open. The man on the other side practically leaps when you do, staring wide-eyed with raised eyebrows at your angry expression. 
“You have a lot of explaining to do.” The man watches steam figuratively blown out of your ears, and a little noise escapes the back of his throat that almost sounds like a laugh. 
“Did you just laugh at me?” 
“N-no.” He brushes off sauvely. 
You roll your eyes and snatch his wrist again, dragging him over to your living room and abruptly halting just before your couches. You shove him towards them and he snaps a testy look at you, taking his seat. 
You decide to stand and look down at him as he crosses a leg and lays his arm against the backrest, sitting as if he owned the place. You fold your arms and tap your foot in anticipation, eyes pissed and steely. “Well?” 
“Well, what?” 
“Do you not owe me an explanation?” You quirk an audacious brow, attempting to fathom what just transpired in the last 5 minutes.
“Explanation.. of what exactly?” He tilts his head and watches you with fascination, and it was now you realized his eyes weren’t glowing red anymore, they’re the colour of chocolate brown. But that doesn’t mean what you saw was a hallucination or a mind-trick either, you remember exactly what you witnessed with your naked eyes. 
The man seems to feel a crook in his neck. Your once occupied attention now snaps to the way he stretches it out, listening to the cracks of his bones that sound practically inhuman. 
“Why the hell did I see fire coming out of your hands? And your red eyes? Who the fuck are you?!” 
The stranger has an ah-hah moment, and understands you with a small nod. He goes from a non-committing look of disinterest to a mirthy smirk on his face, one that almost seemed devilish. He lets out a proud sigh as he hoists himself up, standing tall before you as he suavely tugs at the lapels of his leather jacket. 
“Well, I’ll cut to the chase,” The man quirks his eyebrows and plays with his lips in this undeniably sexy way you can’t help but find hot, blinking away the thought before it consumes you. 
“I’m Lucifer, the king of hell, baby.” 
You blink; once, twice, then three times. You stare at him dumbfounded, as if that would help you understand what he just so casually uttered. You finally let out a noise akin to a scoff. “I’m sorry, what?” 
“I’m Lucifer. You know, fallen archangel? Satan? The Devil?” 
You blink. “Do you think this is a joke?” 
The so-called Lucifer furrows his brows. “Huh?” 
“I nursed you after finding you unconscious on the street, and now you want to joke with me?” 
“But I’m not joking..?” The man seems acutely confused, even tilting his head in this innocent way that completely contrasted his scorching hot looks. He even peers so vividly into your eyes, it's as though he could read every corner of your soul. He towers over you, you also realized. His height is so significantly taller than yours that he has to crane his neck to look down at you. And all of sudden, the way your eyes shift up to meet his gaze feels oddly searing, almost like you feel something hot ignite within you when your lines of sight lock.
“There’s no way in hell you’re Lucifer, buddy. Tell me who you really are and maybe we can talk.” 
“But that is who I am,” Jungkook emphasizes, watching him step closer to you. He suddenly leans down to be eye-level with you, staring directly into your pupils smugly before cracking an evil grin. “Let me show you.” 
Your lips fall into a quizzical pout as you watch him perplexedly before you, and witness the man’s eyes suddenly morph from a warm coffee brown into a dull, flaming colour of dark scarlet. You flinch, watching the image of almost a smoldering fire in his eyes, and the coy way he tongues his cheek gives you the impression he’s a man dripping in sin. 
He blinks and rids himself of the flames, straightening up. “Believe me now, angel?” 
You couldn’t fathom this information, nor the pet name he just used on you. Did you in fact find Lucifer, the devil himself unconscious in the street and brought him into your home? Even nursed him and let him crash in your living room? Not that you regretted it at the time, you do remember admiring his absolutely gorgeous face and couldn’t help but openly gawk at him. 
Of course Lucifer had to be scorching hot with a face that could be sat on.
So-called Lucifer suddenly cracks a grin and chuckles, narrowed eyes snapping to him. “Why’d you just laugh?” 
“Nothing,” The man shrugs, amused eyes scanning you over. “You’re kinda cute.” 
You scowl at him sternly and roll your eyes, clearing your throat as you address him. “Well, Mr. Lucifer-” 
“Jungkook,” he gestures with a hand before folding his arms. “Just call me Jungkook.” 
“J-Jungkook.. what in God’s name are you-or not God. What in hell’s.. the devil’s name?” You become confused trying to form the question, pensive finger to your lips. 
“What am I doing here on Earth, is what you’re asking?” 
You nod with big, curious eyes, though still hold an adorable amount of annoyance within them Jungkook couldn’t help but notice. Said man flashes an evident look towards your lips before he continues. “To be honest, miss. I have no clue.” 
You purse your confused petals as you figure  that’s not exactly much to go on. You wonder what a celestial being of such high caliber could possibly be doing on Earth, let alone appearing to you like some rockstar that missed out on his opening act for Elvis Presely. 
“You didn’t tell me a name.” 
Your eyes flicker to his. “Huh?” 
“Your name.. I don’t know it.” He flatly remarks as his hands slip into his pockets, still eyeing you, almost examining you with that intense stare that seemed to burn you alive. 
“O-oh, right. My name..” You nervously laugh, arms crossed over your chest. “Y/N.. Y/N Y/L/N.” 
Jungkook jerks his brows in amusement, doing that thing where he tongues his cheek, and now you suddenly wonder why he plays around with his tongue so much. “That’s a nice name.” 
“Thanks,” you rigidly respond, not exactly knowing what to do. You’re all but traversing the many thoughts swarming your head; is this even real? Is this a dream? Is this some sort of colossal, sick joke someone’s playing on you? 
But you’re interrupted by the sound of a sudden gurgle, knowing you’ve already eaten dinner, and discerning it’s coming from your otherworldly companion. 
“Umm, are you hungry?” 
“Shit, is that what this is? Hunger?” Jungkook pulls a disgusted expression and pretends to throw up, lamenting horribly. “Fuck, I really am human.” 
You roll your eyes as he puts on a show of fake-sobbing, his pretentiousness eliciting a scoff from you. “Look, do you wanna eat something or starve?” 
Jungkook lightly pouts his lips as his shoulders slump and hands falter, eyes suddenly much more innocent. “Eat, I think? It’s not good for a human to not eat food, right?” 
You realize with such a question how little knowledge Jungkook possesses on humans, and with a hard sigh, you nod as you lead him towards your kitchen. 
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You watch Jungkook literally devour all the leftovers you housed in your fridge; fried chicken, some old Chinese, even the pasta and ravioli you’d left earlier today all down his stomach. You feel full just watching him when you lean your elbows over the counter, seriously inquiring about him. 
“So, wait, repeat that again?” 
Jungkook scarfs down a slice of pizza in practically a whole second, speaking messily through a full mouth. You try not to grimace. 
“Basically, I was cast out of hell and now…” Jungkook swallows as he reaches for a tall glass of water. “I have to find my way back in.” 
You blink multiple times to compute the information. “So for some reason you were kicked out of hell, and now you need to find your way back? Why the hell were you kicked out in the first place?” 
“I have no clue,” Jungkook takes another swig of water to wash down the dense content of his food. “All I know is that I need a way back in.” 
“Do you at least know how? Or what you need to do?” 
You watch him slam down your glass after finishing off, and now, you find every plate you presented to him nearly wiped clean. “I have no clue about that, either.” 
You deadpan. “What the fuck?” 
“Look, human. All I know is that I can find the answers I’m looking for. I just don’t know where to start.” You sigh, cradling your cheek in your palm as you watch him pat a napkin to his lips, and all of a sudden it draws attention to the soft petals. 
Why are his lips so damn kissable?
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly flicker up to yours and you snap out of your trance, swallowing. “W-what? Have you never been on Earth before?” You internally facepalm yourself for your idiotic stutter. 
“Nope, not at all.” 
You narrow your eyes. “Then how do you even know how to act like a human?” 
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to deadpan, an elbow coming up to rest on the table as his other hand cups over his thigh, leaning in. “Are you forgetting who I am, angel?” He smugly asks. “I’m the devil, watching humans is part of my job.” 
You shoot him a testy look for the pet name again, but become curious of his job all of a sudden. “What do you even do as Lucifer? Sit on a throne and hear the screams of poor souls perishing in hell’s fire?” 
Jungkook genuinely laughs at your words, and you become even more annoyed. “What?!” 
“You’re quite right,” Jungkook sends you a proud nod, though he suddenly leans in closer, and he’s now bridged the gap between you and himself over your kitchen counter. He’s close, close enough you catch a whiff of this crisp, warm, though attractive scent off him. It was practically beckoning you closer with each breath in. The heat that radiates off him is almost scalding alone, swallowing as his proximity calls this certain side of you to jump out. 
Or more so, jump him. 
Jungkook smirks again, wetting his lips. “But I’m also the king and master of sin. I draw people’s deepest, darkest secrets out of them. All the bad in them.” 
He deliberately eyes you, almost too hard. It's as though he’s searching every crevice of your mind and can suddenly see all the hidden, disguised aspects of yourself. Now the air’s suffocating, those searing eyes you swear turn scarlet at one point so immensely bewitching you, it’s hard to look away. 
You can feel this almost magnetic pull towards him, eyes darting down to those cute lips of his again. But you immediately brush it off, knowing men like, well, devilish men like him love using their charms to entrance whomever they deem weak enough to fall into the trap. 
You scoff, looking away. “I’ve gotta take a shower.” 
You abruptly rise from your seat. You swipe your phone with you as you watch him settle into his chair, arms folded and now appearing very bored. You sigh as you glare at him, wondering how you’re meant to keep Lucifer of all people entertained. 
A question pops into your head, having mulled over it since you’d nursed him on your couch. “Hey, demon.” 
His gaze flickers to you, chewing on his lip. 
“Do you have a place to stay?” 
You watch as Jungkook actually becomes uncharacteristically shy, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Not exactly, no.” The column of his throat bobs as he gulps. “Why? Are you trying to kick me out?” 
You laugh, covering your smile when you do. “No, I’m not like whatever higher power that casted you out of hell.” 
Jungkook’s smile returns then, less snarky but now actually more.. charming? “Funny and cute. I like you, human.” 
You narrow your eyes with a curt reminder. “Human’s not my name, demon.” 
“And demon’s not mine, either.” You contort your lips into an annoyed pout and stare him down. He returns the challenging look, though lightens up for his next question. “So.. can I stay here?” 
You don’t take much time to consider your answer, knowing your empathetically-cursed character could never deny the homeless man shelter. “I guess so. I don’t think it’s smart to let you roam the human world with your little knowledge of it.” Jungkook moves to deny you the insult of his pea-sized brain, but you calm him down. “I don’t mean it offensively. I mean it for your safety, Jungkook.” 
He settles down, understanding. “Yeah, I get you.” 
Jungkook seems to then regard you with a much more amicable look, his eyes conveying unusual, though present gratefulness. Suddenly you become interested in exactly how human Jungkook really is, seeing as he appears as human as it gets, but exactly how Lucifer is he still? 
“If I may ask.. are you really.. human on earth? As in.. do you have a different form in hell?” 
Jungkook finds the question endearing, laughing a little. “Not really. I appear like this in hell too, all the way down to my outfit.” He gestures towards his attire. “Though in hell I have wings. My eyes permanently glow red and I usually have flames surrounding me.. mainly my wings.” 
You’re stunned, now contemplating the image of Jungkook with these wide, gorgeous wings. You’re left completely speechless, envisioning the flames that probably burst out of them like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. 
“They must be beautiful.” You don’t even realize you let your thoughts slip aloud, regaining focus when you see Jungkook smirk through a laugh. 
“I-I mean.. are you sure you’re human? I mean your skin and all.. do you even need to sleep?” 
Jungkook tilts his head side-to-side for an unsure answer. “Eh, it’s different now that I’m on Earth. In hell, I’m at full power and never need to sleep, eat. Shit, I don’t even feel pain. My flames act as a sort of protective shield, I never incur injuries.” Jungkook elucidates casually.
 “But it seems the rules are different for me on Earth. I get hungry and thirsty. And this,” he gestures towards the small bandage you placed over his cheek wound. “Means I don’t automatically heal, and the exhaustion in my body means I also require sleep.” Jungkook simultaneously yawns as he informs you, covering his mouth. 
“And your skin..? Is your body entirely human?” 
Jungkook cracks a chuckle and his devilish eyes land on you, staring into your soul yet again. He props off his chair without warning and suddenly steps towards you, towering over your smaller frame again. His eyes remain locked with yours as he removes the lapels of his jacket, peeling back the item as he tongues his cheek. The action calls attention towards the sharp edge of his jawline, noticing how attractive it makes his thick neck appear. 
Fuck, if only you could mark a neck that pretty. 
The sound of his sudden snort reels you back into reality, watching him strip his jacket off.
“Jungkook-” You panic to cover him, but he continues, tossing the jacket onto the couch behind you as he then employs his fingers towards his nearly sheer, black-patterened dress shirt. You grow nervous as you watch him dislodge each button, wanting to avert your eyes and do so, but something about him beckons your sight back. Eventually he casts his shirt open, and your eyes nearly fall out of your sockets. 
Jungkook is ripped, as in he has the sexiest body you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. The Statue of David must be jealous, hell, Aphrodite herself would probably choose Jungkook over ugly ol’ Adonis; that is how gorgeous he is. 
“Touch me and see for yourself.” 
You gulp, wide eyes flashing towards him. “Huh?” 
His lips curve into a smug grin, emphasizing his already drop-dead gorgeous face. “If you want to know whether I'm human or not, touch my body.” 
You suck in a breath, suddenly his open shirt exposing his sculpted torso is making your brain go haywire. The deep timbre of his voice saying such words already have you in shambles, wondering when he became so goddamn irresistible?
You can see each divot and protrusion of his muscular body, his abs prominent and his chest downright sinful. Though it’s his tiny, almost delicate waist that has you swooning, practically drooling over the hour-glass figure of his stunning, practically ethereal body. 
You snap a look at Jungkook, and his eyes await you as he watches with pure mirth. You hmph, acting as though this isn’t a big deal when you step closer and slowly, but surely press your palm to his chest. You lose air the second you feel the rock hard muscle.
Fuck, can I squish my face between his pecs? 
You shake your head and hear Jungkook let out the tiniest of laughs, shooting him a grumpy look. You then carefully traverse his skin, being able to feel the beating of his heart, the flesh and blood that make up his body. He feels warm.. almost too warm and it’s as though he’s.. calling you. Your body feels that magnetic pull again, wanting to either devour him whole or litter his body with your sinful kisses. 
It rushes through your veins and floods your lungs, filling your bloodstream with this instinct to simply jump him, touch him, bring this ravenous, dark side of you out into the world. Your breathing increases speed; suddenly he’s all you see and you can feel your body needing him just like you need air, like you wouldn’t survive without him until.. you pull yourself out of the trance. 
You physically rip your hand away and breathe erratically, as though you weren’t yourself just now. Your perplexed eyes blink multiple times to allow the rush to subside, and swallow harshly as you look away from him. 
“What.. what is that?” 
“What’s what?” 
“That-that thing. That fucking attraction to you or whatever..” 
He displays a lop-sided grin on his face as he quirks his brow amusingly, scoffing. “I’m Lucifer, angel. I breed sin wherever I go.” 
“What-what do you mean?” You peer at him with annoyance but also.. intrigue? This was oddly interesting to you, never have you felt the effects of something so utterly hypnotizing, attractive, alluring.  
Never have you felt your heart hammer and mind race like that. 
Jungkook makes it a statement to subtract the space between you two, your bubble invaded by his bare body as he carefully circles a palm around your arm, searing eyes boring into yours. “It means whatever sin you think of; lust, greed, gluttony, envy. They’re all heightened when you’re close to me, and worse if anyone’s lucky enough to touch me.” 
Your vision locks with his, finding the explanation to that scalding heat of his body. 
He’s goddamn Lucifer. 
“But.. I touched you.” 
He breathes a laugh through his nose. “And I don’t let just anyone touch me, angel.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, tugging your arm out of his hold. “Why do you call me angel?” 
Jungkook lightly gestures towards your chest area, and before you can grow offended over his line of thinking, you flicker downwards to find that your pajama t-shirt for tonight has the word ‘angel’ written across it, then adorned with wings and a halo around the text. 
You scoff, returning to him. “Really?” 
“That, and you seem to radiate the energy of an angel.” 
“And how exactly do I seem to do that, demon?” 
Jungkook’s fingertips find themselves preoccupied with feeling a piece of your hair, letting himself watch the action with a faint smile. You would smack his hand away, but his softer eyes look towards you, and you swallow nervously when you feel that heated attraction to him once again. 
His open shirt is already difficult to ignore, and you can’t seem to want to shove him away.
“Angels are pure, and true. They’re virtuous and serve the good of the universe.” You feel his hot breath tickle your skin as he decreases the gap between you two. His eyes remain locked with yours as he releases your hair. “But one thing to be known about angels,” He leans in closer, and pierces your soul with his searing heat. 
“They’re not as innocent as they seem.” 
He does it again, peering as if he knows something about you, deliberately searches your eyes as if he can sift through your mind, and you need to simply break away from him. His lips are too close and fuck, do you already find his lips so goddamn kissable. Not to mention this now supernatural pull you have towards him heightening your darkest desires. 
“I’m gonna take a shower, busy yourself in the main area.” You mutter almost incoherently. 
And all you hear is Jungkook’s muffled laugh as you scurry away. 
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The sounds of the TV running quirks your brows, ruffling a towel against your damp hair as you enter the living room. 
You find the odd sight of Jungkook holding a remote in his hand, lounging on your couch as he watches an episode of Friends. A laugh escapes you, not having ever imagined Lucifer doing something as mundane as watching TV. 
His eyes shift towards you at the sound of your chuckle, Jungkook sitting up much straighter. 
“Welcome back, human.” 
“It’s my house, demon.” 
Jungkook kisses his teeth as you approach him, your towel hanging around your shoulders. His eyes remain on your face for a while, though they travel down your body with a little scan. You realize it’s your short-cladded legs he’s observing, then returns his sight to you. 
“What are you wearing?” 
“Pajamas?” You answer him with a chide. 
He purses his lips in this certain manner of understanding, leaning his arm against the back of the couch, legs manspreading almost indefinitely. This is when you earn the opportunity to really view Jungkook’s legs, and fuck, are you goddamn mesmerized. His strong, thick thighs are hugged snuggly by those leather pants, and they do him a damn service by emphasizing their muscular, sexy build. His legs are also long, you notice, perfectly presenting his lap to you and it takes every ounce of your being to not so obviously look at his bulging crotch; naturally bulging crotch may you add. 
I swear if he’s packing too, this’ll just be unfair. 
Jungkook cracks a scoff all of a sudden and you narrow your vision, scrutinizing him. 
“I asked you a question?” He suddenly says.  
“Huh?” You blink; he must’ve queried you when you spaced out. “What did you ask?” 
“I asked if that’s how humans usually dress for the night.” Jungkook repeats himself. 
“Well, yeah. You wanna be comfortable when you’re sleeping, less clothing is usually the answer.” You reply honestly, arms crossed over your chest that adorns no bra. “You’re a guest in my home, and this is how I dress.” 
“You consider me a guest?” Jungkook inquires with a slight smile. 
“Well, yes. To be fair, I’m the one who brought you to my home, you didn’t infiltrate it or anything.” You offer him a shrug. 
You watch Jungkook genuinely grin at that, amused eyes flitting to you. “You’re nice, human.” 
“Thanks.” You’re not sure how much a compliment from Lucifer matters, but you take it anyway. 
“Oh shit, you don’t have anything to wear tonight, do you?” 
Jungkook’s round eyes wander off in thought, and it’s now that you notice his eyes are actually quite.. cute. “I don’t think so. I assume sleeping in an outfit like this wouldn’t be comfortable, as you say.” 
“Yeah, just hold on. I’ll come back with something.” 
You return to Jungkook with a set of comfortable clothes in hand, presenting them to him. “Here, I think these should fit.” 
Jungkook quirks a brow as he peers at the clothes with incredulousness, then you. “You’re going to make me wear that?” 
You roll your eyes as you regard the Hello Kitty shirt and grey sweatpants in your hands. “This is my biggest oversized shirt, okay?” You attempt to defend yourself. 
Jungkook appears as though his ego is hurt, a baffled hand to his heart. “You expect Lucifer, the king of hell, to wear something like this?” 
“It’s either this or no clothes, buddy.” You try to reason with him. 
Jungkook smirks then, standing to his feet before you with an amused and suggestive attitude. “I mean, I don’t mind not wearing clothes. But I think the only person that’s gonna have a problem with that is you, angel.” 
God, his eyes just scream the fiery pits of hell and mischievous mirth, who fucking knew Lucifer could be so obnoxious? His sense of confidence is suffocating and he seems as egotistical as the high school captain of a football team. 
You shove the clothes into his, dare you say, rock hard abs and huff with a scowl. “Just take the fucking clothes and change, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs with barely-there acquiescence, inspecting the clothing items as he picks out the sweatpants. “These sweatpants don’t look like they belong to a woman.” 
“They’re not mine.” You absent-mindedly grumble as you make your way towards your kitchen, deciding on tidying up the many plates Jungkook left scoured from his feast. 
“Whose are they?” 
“Ex’s.” You reply flatly, compiling the plates together and nabbing the utensils he used. 
Jungkook nods in understanding, though now seems a bit out of place holding the pants. He reveals what could’ve been... sympathy? Pity? You don’t know. 
“Why are they in your apartment?” 
“He left them here after I kicked him out.” Jungkook notices the way you seem too casual while washing the plates, querying again. 
“Why did you kick him out..?” 
You set down the plates harshly in the sink then, producing a loud clattering noise. “Could you just fucking change?”
You didn’t mean to say it so sternly and with a cold-cut tone, but you settle once you see the taken aback expression on Jungkook’s face. You bite your lip as the water runs over your now cold hands, sighing as you return to your dishes. “I’m sorry. Just-get changed, please? That outfit must be bothering you.” 
Offering your words a little sweeter this way seems to dissemble the look of surprise on Jungkook, nodding as he visibly zips his mouth shut. Jungkook then begins to unbutton his pants right before you, undoing and just about tugging them down until you rapidly hold up your soapy hands to halt him. 
“Wait-wait! Not here!” 
“What?” 
“Don’t get changed in front of me, change in my room or something!” You attempt to mask your line of sight. No way would you goddam let yourself see whatever beast Lucifer is hiding in his leather pants. 
“And why would I need to do that? Haven’t you seen a man naked?” 
You roll your eyes at his snarky remark, knowing there’s got to be another smug grin on his rideable face right now. “I have but I haven’t seen you naked. Just change in my room please.” 
Jungkook lets out a grievous huff as he fixes his pants back on. “Fine, I’ll be back.” 
He snatches up his clothes and finds his way to your bedroom, shutting himself inside after flashing you a purposefully saccharine grin. You exhale once he’s disappeared, now running through the millions of thoughts that plague your mind. 
Is this really what your life’s now come to? Housing Lucifer in your home? You do digress on the matter that it’s not his fault. He’s been cast out of hell for a reason he doesn’t know, and it’s not like he was provided an elaborate guide on how to get himself back in either. 
You assume it must do with learning a valuable lesson or performing some sort of task, though it’s not like you know what the mighty powers above have in store for an already ethereal being such as Lucifer. You weigh your options here, maybe you can simply let him live here as a roommate until he can find a way back, right? 
Considering he has no means of living in the real world; ID, wallet, phone, fuck, even a passport, he won’t be able to get around easily. So for now, you might as well let him slumber with you until he deals with whatever introspective prospect of himself he needs to clean up. 
Your bedroom door clicks open as you find Jungkook emerging in your ex’s sweatpants that actually fit him quite well, and a stifled giggle escapes you once regarding him in your blush pink Hello Kitty t-shirt. 
“Well, you look just about ready for your hellish throne, don’t you?” 
“Fuck you.” He harmlessly exasperates, dragging his feet towards you with slumped shoulders. “You couldn’t have found me a shirt that maybe had anything to do with hell? Like that one sitting on your chair by your desk?” 
You scoff, scrunching up your facial features in disbelief. “No way would I give you my Thrasher t-shirt.” You glower. “It’s my favourite t-shirt.” 
“And I’m about to become your favourite person soon, hand it over.” Jungkook holds out his palm and requests the shirt with an arrogant curl of his fingers, sending him a deadpan expression and shoving his hand aside. 
“Maybe if you help me clean up my apartment and the dishes I’ll consider the offer, demon.” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth yet again. “You made a mess of objects in your apartment by throwing them at me, and now I have to clean them up, human?” 
“Who’s the ‘human’ that’s keeping your identity as Lucifer a secret and is letting you live here for free?” Jungkook pulls his lips back guiltily at that, pursing them with an affirmative nod before reluctantly getting on with his task. You quietly huff as you watch him compliantly clean up the mess, glad that he can at least follow instructions. 
It boggles you actually. Did you just instruct Lucifer, the obnoxious ruler of the Underworld to do something, and he listened? Do you now have one of the most powerful beings in the universe wrapped around your finger for offering your home? The thought paints a smirk onto your face. You did not begin this Monday at all thinking you’d be in the good graces of the devil himself. 
Too preoccupied with your thoughts, suddenly a searing heat beside you startles you. You peer up to find Jungkook slotted right next to you and picking up the dishes you’ve sudded up, silently rinsing them with this pout on his lips that seemed like a natural habit.
Cute.
You quirk an inquisitive brow though, hands having stopped moving. “What are you doing?” 
“I’m helping you?” He replies obviously. 
You absorb the kind gesture and loosen up a little. “That’s.. kind of you.”  
“What? Didn’t think Lucifer could be kind?” He’s teasing you now, his eyebrows jerking in an amusing way that shows you he just loves the game. You roll your eyes, nudging his elbow as you bite back a smile. 
“Get to work, demon.” 
Jungkook suppresses a grin. He rather contorts his lips in acquiesce as he continues to wash diligently, humming a tune very similar to The Beatles’ “Devil in Her Heart”. 
And you quietly chuckle. 
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“There,” you gesture with an accomplished grin, hands perching onto your hips. You and Jungkook both look on at a makeshift bed you had crafted for him in your room, eyes peering at him for approval. 
He observes it with a critical lens, pensive pointer finger and thumb stroking his chin. “Is this meant to be where I sleep?” 
“Of course, where else would you sleep?” 
Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards your queen-sized bed and very obviously gestures towards it. “Maybe on the entire bed in your room? Did you think I don’t know that humans sleep in beds?” 
You exhale with irritation, palm smacking your forehead. “You can’t just sleep in my bed, genius. I barely know you!” 
“And what’s so bad about a man and a woman sleeping in the same bed?” Jungkook questions argumentatively. 
You send him a glare. “Like I said, I don’t know you and your intentions, and sleeping is when humans are in their most vulnerable state.” 
Jungkook contorts his lips with dislike. “I’m not going to unsolicitedly touch you or anything, if that’s your concern. All you are is a measly human to me, I have no attraction to you.” He holds up a hand in protest. 
“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Are you saying I’m unattractive?” 
“So now you want me to think you're attractive and want to unsolicitedly touch you?” 
You halt once you see the flaw in your argument, brewing in resentment as you watch him grin proudly. “That’s what I thought, human.” 
“Fine, you know what? Either you sleep on this lovely bed I made for you on the floor, or you sleep on my couch.” 
Jungkook sticks his tongue out and blows a wet raspberry, arms folded over his hard chest. “Fuck your couch, it put this damn crook in my neck.” 
You clasp your hands together and emphasize the most pathetically sympathetic pout in the universe. “Awh, did little Luci get an ouchy?” 
“Are you asking me to burn your couch? Because I’ll do so without hesitation, angel.” 
“Ugh!” You suddenly burst out into figurative flames, standing square before Jungkook to address him seriously. “Alright, demon. Since you seem to be the epitome of a picky child, you can sleep in my bed with me.” 
Jungkook’s face purposefully lights up like an elated child, gasping comically loudly just to get on your nerves, but you halt him with a finger. “But, we’re putting a barrier of pillows between us.” 
Jungkok scoffs with folded arms, hating that the action called attention to his bulky, bulging biceps in a funnily contrasting women’s shirt. “Not like I wanted to cuddle with you and catch your human disease, anyway.” 
You exclaim disapprovingly at the way he spits the term, hands perched on your hips with a speedy retort. “Well fuck you and your smoldering heat, demon. When I asked for a new furnace I didn’t mean you.”
Jungkook childishly mocks your expression, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, if you need a furnace then clearly it gets cold at night, and then we’ll see who’s cuddling up to who for heat.” 
You watch him practically throw open your covers and shuffle inside, hmphing as you step off in search of your light switch and shut it off. “Whatever.” You weakly grumble back. 
You settle into your covers as you harshly shove a bunch of pillows between you and Jungkook, not even daring to spare the infuriating man a look, turning completely away from his figure. You huddle into your side like a fetus once the night really kicks in, cursing your goddamn furnace for supplying such sparse heat while your window leaks chilly air through the old cracks. 
You shiver all while Jungkook seems to completely knock out in peace, most likely from his first oh so tiresome day being human. You’re welcomed by his light snoring for hours as you roll your eyes in contempt. 
Wanting to pin it on him for so irritatingly interrupting your much-needed sleep, you become annoyed not just with Jungkook’s snoring, but that he was right. 
You really wanted to cuddle up to him for some goddamn warmth that night. 
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You bop around to the Beatles’ 1963 track Jungkook was humming last night, pushing around some strips of bacon in your pan, messy hair tied and in your lounge wear. You’d cracked a few more eggs and cooked more bacon for your annoyingly hellish acquaintance. 
The chilly night really didn’t serve you well as you froze in your spot, only shuffling towards Jungkook after peeking at his slobbering, snoring state of sleep. You were thankful he still radiated such an abundant amount of heat, that finding relief in the small waves you could feel even over the pillow barrier wasn’t too difficult. 
Your pride kept you from removing even a single cushion. 
You produce playful noises from your lips as you busy yourself, setting up some breakfast considering your house does not only have a population of one anymore, but two, and it still continues to shift the axis of your world. 
Was last night really your reality? Are you sure that wasn’t just a wild figment of your imagination? It had to be, even if you believe in the supernatural, there was no way such a superior celestial being could so casually be a guest in your home. 
You’re reminded of that certain special guest when you suddenly hear a loud thud in your bedroom, concerned eyes perking towards your ajar door. 
“Demon?” You call. 
You gain no answer, wondering if you truly did just imagine all the events from last night. 
“Jungkook-!” Said man tumbles out of your room then, groggy as all hell as he lazily rubs his eyes and appears to you as death himself, though still delectably hot. 
Ugh, fuck him. 
“Y/N.. shit.” He addresses you, and suddenly the deep, gravelly tone of his morning voice makes your core inadvertently clench. “Y-yes?” 
“I crashed into your damn vanity in the bathroom.. why is everything of yours so tiny?” He complains first thing in the morning, now remembering just how frustrating the king of hell really is. 
“Maybe you’re just too big, demon.” He grunts his response, stalking over to you as he can’t seem to adjust to the morning light filtering into your apartment. 
You watch him approach you, gathering the necessary tableware for a quality morning breakfast. “How’d you sleep, demon?” 
Jungkook’s barely-open eyes scrutinize you as he seats himself on a stool by your counter, covering his mouth when he yawns. “Meh. I had this… this thing. I saw these pictures in my head when I was sleeping…” 
“A dream?” You assist him as you pour out a glass of milk. 
“Yeah, whatever the fuck it’s called. Anyway, I think.. I think I saw something that’ll help me get back to hell.” 
That pries your eyes open with intrigue, setting the glass of milk down for him on the counter. “Oh shit, already?” 
He nods, and you find it actually quite endearing how much his hair was tousled into this attractive bed-head, eyes puffy, lips pouting. “I saw this club.. I remember seeing it when I used to be in hell.” 
“A club?” 
“Mm,” he replies with a confirming hum as he reaches for the glass, lightly inspecting the drink as he continues. “It’s this exclusive club only for celestial beings. I heard about it sometimes among my demon subjects, but I was too busy being the mighty king of hell to give a crap.” He haughtily regards himself as he takes a moderate swig of the milk, licking his lips as he nods in approval of the beverage. 
“I like this, what is this?” 
“Milk,” you elaborate. “What about this club?” 
Jungkook takes another lazy sip as his eyes scan over the food you now plate on the counter. “Well, it’s obviously only meant for celestial beings. Demons and angels. I’m thinking if I can find even one of my demons, I could find out where the club is, and then figure out why I was kicked out of hell.” 
“Ohh,” you remark with understanding, setting aside the pan and spatula, while nabbing two forks from a drawer. “So you just have to visit this club then, correct?” 
“Correct,” Jungkook answers. “There’s just two things.” He begins as he takes the fork you hand him with ease, impressed by his adeptness for such human, mundane things. 
He must’ve watched humans for a brain-numbing amount of eons. 
“One, this one’s mainly angel territory.” 
You raise your brows in question, arms crossed and eagerly interested in the information. “There’s more than one?” 
“There are clubs scattered around Earth, it’s to allow celestial beings a place of refuge when they visit here.” Jungkook explains. “I remember seeing an American flag when I landed here, so I’m assuming I’m in America, and the only existing club here is in Chicago.” 
“Chicago?!” You exclaim with utter shock. “That’s across the entire country from here!” 
“Not the point, human.” He cuts you off with a finger. “Point is, that club will be crawling with angels, and as Lucifer they may not welcome me with open arms.” Jungkooks sets his fork down against your counter with a sigh, almost seeing his mind shift its locks and gears. 
“The only way I’ll be able to get in is if..” He pauses, serious eyes locking with yours. “Is if I bring a human with me.” 
You blink; rapidly, then slowly, then rapidly again somehow hoping it would change what you just heard. “Come again?” 
Jungkook sighs, his facial features already telling you he finds this difficult to discuss. “This club in Chicago is angel-dominant, meaning demons need to bring a human companion in order to get in. Like a truce, a sign we mean no harm.” Jungkook elaborates. “And even as Lucifer, I don’t think my charms and wit alone can get me through considering my less powerful, human form.” 
You scoff at him shamelessly tooting his own horn, wondering if he’ll ever tire of it. “Sounds like a real pickle, Luci. Wonder where you’ll find yourself a ‘measly’ human.” You snark with a snort, placing the milk back in your fridge and reaching for your mango juice. 
You swivel back around to a Jungkook who doesn’t smirk, nor grin nor tongue his cheek condescendingly, but simply leans his elbows over the counter and pressingly peers at you. As if communicating with his eyes alone… 
No, no way. No way in the fiery pits of Jungkook would you goddamn do this. 
“Jungkook, don’t you dare..” 
“Human.. it’s important.” You scoff through a humourless laugh, setting down your carton of mango juice and gesturing towards yourself in disbelief. 
“Me? You want the human to be me?” 
“Y/N…” Jungkook quite gently calls your name, a complete contrast to his arrogance and while the sound of your name on his tongue lights something within your chest, you can’t help but snort with utter derision. 
“No. I’m not fucking accompanying you all the way to Chicago just for some innocence show-and-tell.” You immediately deny him, contemplating just how crazy this is. How in the world could you just up and leave for some travelling with the devil all the way across the country? You couldn’t even take a goddamn flight considering dear-old Lucifer’s lack of passport ID. 
“Y/N.. look. I know it’s not ideal for you, but this is seriously important.” Jungkook emphasizes with a persuasive tone. “I need you…” 
Those last three words and the look of pure need in his eyes tug at the strings of your weak heart, groaning in complaint. “Jungkook, you can’t be serious. I-I have a life here! I have friends and a job and not to mention school starts back up for me in a month-” 
Jungkook suddenly rises from his seat and paces over to you, grasping a careful hold of your hands and the innate warmth he emits from his skin actually feels.. comforting. 
“Y/N, look. I get it. You have a life here on Earth, a place where you belong. But I have a life in hell, a place where I belong. Wouldn’t it be best to just accompany me and get me back to hell so I can get out of your hair?” 
“Jungkook…” You counter with an uncooperative tone, eyes communicating sympathy, but you can’t offer him the help he needs. “I can’t.” 
“This will benefit both of us, human.” Jungkook convincingly states. “I go back to hell faster, and I leave you alone faster. I know how much you don’t want me here.” 
You hesitate, eyesight faltering to your connected hands; his thumbs are actually soothing the back of your hands? When did he start doing that? 
“That’s not exactly true…” 
“Y/N, just come. I know it’s asking a lot but I really need this.” Jungkook pleads. 
“And what will you do for me in return if I come with you?” 
“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do anything. The faster I can get back to hell the faster I reclaim my full powers, and I’ll grant you anything you desire. I promise.” You’re uncertain of how strong a promise from the devil could be, deterring you from giving him an answer he wants to hear. 
With a sad sigh, you disconnect your hands from Jungkook’s. “I really can’t, Jungkook. It’s non-negotiable…” 
You watch as the usually confident, cocky man falls into an expression of glumness, silently retracting his hands. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as he acquiesces, though seems silently upset. “Okay..” 
The gloomy pout to his cute lips does you in. “Look, Jungkook. I’m going out with friends tonight for drinks at this bar. Maybe you can tag along and you can easily find another human? I’m sure any girl would be willing to roadtrip with a super handsome guy like you across the country.” You attempt to present a peace-offering with a joke, hands shoved into your sweater paws as you hug your chest. 
“But those humans won’t be like you..” He groans with a huff, eyes evading you. 
“And what’s so different about me?” 
“You already know I’m Lucifer, that makes things 100x easier for me.” He argues. 
“Well, I found out and I ended up accepting you. Who’s to say you won’t find another human like that?” You plead your case, but Jungkook just scoffs in reply. 
“Please, do you not remember what happened when you saw that I was Lucifer?” You recall the fiasco of forks, flinging and feathers, sighing once you see his point. “Exactly. Besides, you saw me as Lucifer by accident, I can’t just be revealing my identity to anybody. It’s not allowed.” 
“But I know..?” You question genuinely, gesturing towards yourself. 
“Like I said, by accident. Though I’m assuming the Council won’t see it that way, and they’ll come for me anyway.” Jungkook more so mutters to himself as he frustratedly tongues his cheek and steps around, brewing with stress. 
“The what?” You question. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, as though now registering just how annoyingly human you are. “Think of them as angel police, yeah?” 
You mimic his tone purposefully and he impersonates you back, scoffing to end the interaction. “Look, if you already have these angel police people on your ass then what’s the harm in telling another human? They’ll be chasing you anyway.” 
Jungkook laughs dryly, looking away from you as he shakes his head. “I can’t just do that, that’s not how it works.” 
You sigh, watching the way his jaw flexes because he’s grinding down on his teeth too hard, a clear sign of his anger. You hate that it emphasizes the sharp edge of his jawline, and that it’s actually fucking hot. 
He suddenly breaks into the slightest laughter that holds some amusement, wondering what he’s laughing at. Nonetheless, you decide to defuse this situation and try to comfort him. You meant it when you said last night you wanted to be in Lucifer’s good graces, but also remain in them no matter how irritating he is. 
You approach him amicably and grasp his bare bicep, brushing his arm in support. “Look, Jungkook. Just come with me tonight and try, okay? Maybe your answer is just an arm’s length away.” 
Jungkook’s eyes find yours, and you watch them glimmer with something akin to understanding, surprisingly loosening up at your touch. Though his irises are soon blanketed with his signature mirth as he eyes you, feeling the heat of his body suddenly radiate off him like a heatwave. 
“You sure you want me to come tonight, angel? Your friends may think I’m your scorching hot boyfriend.” 
You produce an appalling noise of disapproval, removing your hand from him and shaking off his Luciferness. “Fuck you. I’m telling them you’re my roommate and that’s final.” 
“And where exactly did you find me as a roommate? On the street?” Jungkook laughs as you shoot him a crabby glare, not missing the way his amused eyes flit over your figure with almost… likeness? 
“I’m telling them you’re a co-worker. No way am I saying I just found you on a whim, they’ll think we’re-” 
“We’re sleeping together, right?” 
You grow aggravated by the sly way he’s folded his arms and does that stupidly attractive thing where he tongues his cheek, fed up with his suggestive fun. You quickly snatch your kitchen towel in your hands and roll it up into a punishing device, rapidly smacking at him. 
Jungkook exclaims playfully as he dodges your hit. “Wo-hoah, human. Didn’t I tell you angels are good and pure beings? They don’t hit people.” He laughs as you grunt in frustration and follow his retreating form for another whack, actually landing it against his arm. 
“Hey, bad angel!” Jungkook tuts you light-heartedly as he cleverly evades your angry attacks. You hate that even while he’s riling you up, you actually liked the image of his glowing, entertained smile, his cute teeth reminding you of a bunny. 
“Says the obnoxious Lucifer!” You holler loudly in complaint, chasing him while your once warm breakfast turns unfavourably cold. 
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“And this is Jungkook, my co-worker!” You cheer as you present Jungkook to your group of friends, earning wide smiles and gawking eyes from your female friends and equally surprised male friends. 
“Hey, everyone.” Jungkook waves with a confident smile, showcasing his adorable teeth for a lovable grin. 
Did he seriously have to be cute too?
You snap out of it once you see your friends all greeting him kindly, Jungkook only left to shyly smile and reply shortly to all the inquiries he gains. His lost eyes find yours and he reveals genuine fear in them, silently requesting you to come join him and let up the traffic of questions. 
A snort escapes you as you watch on, who knew Lucifer could actually be awkward? You swear he should’ve been a natural with people, though you contend he just doesn’t do well with so many questions at once. 
To be fair, he’s never been around other humans before either. 
You grant him mercy by sliding in beside him, shooting pleasant grins all around as you answer the dozens of questions your friends ask about your new gorgeous co-worker. 
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“Doesn’t he just look like one of those men that’ll eat you out until he can’t breathe?” 
“Oh for sure, looks like he’d stuff himself full and even when you tell him to breathe he just says no.” 
“Hell, he’d be that type that pulls your hips back down over his face when you try to let him breathe.” 
“Guys..!” You interject as your friends Madison, Naila and Kiara all giggle together. You’re all huddled together drinking by the bar as your friends become more interested in observing Jungkook in all his dripping sexiness. 
And to be honest, you don’t really blame them, he’s wearing that scorching hot leather outfit again. 
“Y/N, seriously. How could you not tell us someone that hot worked with you?” 
“This has got to be a crime, were you gate-keeping him?” Naila suddenly complains as you quell their grievances. 
“Guys, he just.. got transferred to my department recently. He’s new.” You find a quick enough and convincing lie. 
“How did you two end up even living together? There had to have been some sort of meet-cute.” The girls all gush together when Kiara asks, all eyes shifting towards you as they excitedly await an answer. 
“Well.. we just.. got on the topic of him needing a place and we hung out sometimes. So I offered my place.” 
“And?!” 
You feel slightly cornered, but confidently answer with another white lie. “And he said okay.” 
They all squeal together like teen girls, honestly finding amusement in their reactions. “Ugh, you’re living the dream, Y/N.” Madison suddenly slings an arm around you and tugs you towards her, gesturing towards nothing that indicates her depiction of ‘the dream’. “You’re in a roommate situation with an absolutely scorching hot guy, you’ll totally end up either falling in love or banging him!” 
“What?” You squeak as you throw back a shot of tequila Naila handed you. “No way will that happen, he’s obnoxious as hell!” 
“Ugh, babes. Even if he’s obnoxious I bet that dick isn’t.” Kiara jokes and the girls all chuckle together, tipping back their shot glasses after filling some back up. You roll your eyes and smack her arm as she exclaims, trying to lighten you up. 
“Y/N, c’mon. You deserve to have some fun after that shitty fucking ex of yours. Live a little, ya know? Whether it’s love or dick, they’re both great remedies.” 
You scoff as your lips hover over a shot glass, eyes wandering the club as if you're occupied, but really, you know it’s in an effort to look for Jungkook. It’s funny you act like you don’t know where he is, when you know his exact location. 
Your eyes flicker across the bar, finding Jungkook having casually slipped into conversation with the boys tonight. He was laughing and happily tipping back shots himself, amused that he at least eased up and found some company with your male friends. 
Sights absorbed in suddenly eyeing him, it’s truly difficult to pry your gaze away. No way was this Jungkook’s impact of being Lucifer, you now knew you needed to be very close, or at least touching him in order to feel those effects. So why is it that you still feel this magnetic pull towards him? Can’t help but not only find him incredibly sexy in his usual outfit, but something so mysteriously alluring about him? 
Your body wanted him, you knew that much. Anyone with eyes and functioning reproductive organs would know that, but you couldn’t shake off the fact that it wasn’t just your body that wanted him.
He was just so intriguing, and you wanted to know more. 
Suddenly, Jungkook’s eyes casually shift from your friend Hobi he’s speaking to, and locks with your gaze across the bar. You freeze, eyebrows raising as you hesitate to take your shot, caught in a stare with him you can’t break. 
Jungkook stares back, and he stares goddamn good. He tongues his cheek again irritatingly and you try to swallow down the way he makes your core light up. Jungkook then tilts his head a little downwards with a cracked smirk, before he peers up at you again with eyes so devilishly smoldering, you could feel a sweat break out at the nape of your neck. 
You gulp as Jungkook then tips his head to the side with a light furrow of his brows, as if questioning you what’s wrong, and you lightly nod to him nothing. He laughs a little, hating that he finds this somehow amusing. You’re in the middle of narrowing your eyes at him until Naila interrupts you, Jungkook cleverly looking away then. 
“See, they’re practically eye-fucking already!” You shoot them all an annoyed look as you grunt in complaint. 
“Are you sure you guys aren’t together?” Madison inquires. “It seems like he already likes you, babes.” 
You click your tongue in disapproval. “He just likes to tease me, guys. Drop it, would you?” 
“As long as you land on his face, then everything should be good.” The drunk girls giggle together, and you can’t help but snicker at the joke. You contemplate in your tipsy head there really is something about Jungkook’s smoking hot face that makes it seem so rideable. 
“I’ll be back, guys. Stay here.” You instruct the girls as you set your shot glass down. You weave through the throngs of people mingling and dancing in the bar, ignoring your girls’ hollers of encouragement as you bee-line towards Jungkook. 
You reach the occupied man and tug lightly at the end of his sleeve for his attention. “Jungkook!” You shout over the blaring speaker the guys are all near. 
Jungkook’s vision snaps to you as he simultaneously touches your wrist to acknowledge you. Your skin ignites at a simple touch of his, feeling a rush you’ve never experienced before. You blink it away before lightly tugging him aside, speaking to him. 
“What’s up, human!” The booming bass of synth-pop beats abuses your eardrums, requiring both you and Jungkook to yell at each other. 
“Why haven’t you talked to anyone yet!” 
“Huh!” He hollers in response.
You exclaim in complaint as you lean in a little towards his ear, shouting louder. “I brought you here to talk to someone and bring with you, why haven’t you been talking to anyone yet!” 
Jungkook draws back and signals to you he can’t hear, rolling your eyes and curling your palm around his wrist, dragging him through the crowd. You tug him into the secluded restroom area where it’s much quieter, the shut door closing out the music. 
“Ah, that’s much better.” Jungkook notes. 
“I was asking if you’ve talked to anyone about Chicago yet, Jungkook.” You repeat yourself from earlier, hand still holding onto his wrist. “That’s what I brought you here for, remember?” 
“Hey, I’ve been talking to people,” Jungkook defends himself, though his expression falters into one of hesitancy. “Kind of..?” 
You glower at him, “Jungkook, what do you mean by ‘kind of’?” 
Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping as he surprisingly doesn’t even make you let go of him. You can feel that rush of his energy coursing through you, but you manage the invasive feeling as you focus on the conversation instead. 
“I’ve been trying to get it out of me but.. I just never end up asking.” You exclaim in annoyance as you scold him.
“Jungkook, why not?!” 
“Because it’s just weird, okay, Y/N?” Jungkook argues. “I’m meeting these people for the first time, I can’t just fucking ask them to hitchhike with me all the way across the damn country.” 
“But it was completely okay to ask me?” 
Jungkook kisses his teeth with a roll of his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re different, human?” 
“Well, I’m not any different when you always call me a ‘human’ anyway, demon.” 
Jungkook becomes fed up with your pestering and scoffs. “Whatever. You’re the only human I can do this in front of and not have someone screaming their head off.” Jungkook emphasizes his point by conjuring up a hot flame from his palm. His suddenly glowing red eyes also appear, shooting you an ‘I-told-you-so’ look of challenge as you glare back at him. 
You’re seconds from retorting until you’re suddenly interrupted by the shrieking of a woman. You’re startled as your unsuspecting vision falls to a random stranger who had just ventured out of the bathroom and…
“Fire, fire!” 
You and Jungkook both look at the flame in his palm, then towards the woman in fear, finally locking anxious eyes with one another and panicking. Jungkook puts out the fire and you rapidly approach the woman to calm her down, hoping nobody can hear how goddamn loudly she’s screaming. 
“Shh, oh my God. It’s okay, it’s a prank. It’s a prank!” You repeatedly yell in order to shut the lady up, but she keeps yelling and trying to make a horrified break for her purse. She scrambles inside and you both watch her fish out a small bottle of something that’s engraved with almost-visible writing.
Holy Water. 
“A demon, it’s a demon!” She shrills so goddamn ear-splittingly, you and Jungkook leap into flight mode. He engulfs your arm in his and tugs you towards him urgently.
“Y/N, we have to go!” 
You curse repeatedly as Jungkook swings open the doors to the club and you shoot the woman apologizing glances, begging for her to put a damn sock in it. Jungkook takes the lead as he drags you out into the bar. He rapidly pulls you through people and ensures he keeps a tight hold of your arm, tugging you incredibly close to his own body as some sort of shield. 
Your friends end up seeing you both fleeing and shooting you looks of either ‘what the fuck’ or ‘get it on!’ as you practically hide your face in embarrassment. You and Jungkook hurtle out into the blissful night as he tugs you both down the way he knows you parked your car. You grunt in raging frustration once you realize that you parked it far with this place being downtown. 
“Ugh! You just had to fucking use your powers out in the open!” You complain aloud while you run with Jungkook, not caring now for the few late-night city stragglers hearing you. 
“Not my fault you keep nagging me about finding another human!” Jungkook argues as he continues pulling you down the road, the fear of authorities being called by the random woman scaring him. “Do you see now why you’re the only one who can come with me?!” 
You whine as you consider he’s correct, there’s no use in him searching for another human for ages when you exist right before his eyes. “Fine, fine! I’ll fucking go with you, asshole! Can we just stop fucking running?!” 
You become too tired to keep up with Jungkook, feet aching in your shoes once you realize how fast Jungkook was going, hands dropping to your knees as he releases you. 
“You… you run.. fucking fast.” You heave for air as you register the sweat on your forehead, having participated in too much exercise just now. 
“I’m a little faster as Lucifer, human.” Jungkook elaborates oh-so-obviously as you wave him off, squawking for air as though you were a fish out of water. 
“You okay?” Jungkook asks as he nears your bent over form with a hand, and you swallow harshly as you tell him to give you a minute. You’re focusing on resupplying your lungs oxygen until you suddenly feel arms cupping underneath your body, and are unexpectedly hoisted up in the air. 
You squeal as you find Jungkook’s lifted you off the ground bridal-style, freaking out at just how strong he is. “J-Jungkook, put me down! You can’t carry me all the way to the car?!” 
Jungkook swiftly ignores you as he begins jogging towards the direction of your car, and quite frankly does so almost too easily. “I’m fast and strong as Lucifer, human. I can handle you.” 
Jungkook quells your worries as your round eyes watch him flash a look down at you, and try to stifle the flutter of your heart when he shoots you a show-stopping smile. 
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It was the day of your trip, and having woken up at the ass crack of dawn to get on the roads early, you and Jungkook currently load your car with your luggage enough for two weeks of travelling. You groan as you rub an exhausted eye, yawning when you feel sleep still beckoning you to your warm bed. 
You stand frozen in your spot as you refuse to move the suitcase resting at your feet, rather staring at it with delirium instead. 
You feel a sudden nudge to your shoulder, finding Jungkook settling beside you. “Hey, sleepyhead, get moving.” He instructs in rather a light, encouraging tone, finding that very different from his usually pushy tone. 
Sight still filled with sleep, your eyes remain locked on Jungkook shooting you one last look before he’s hauling a duffle bag over his shoulder, and carries another heavy suitcase effortlessly, hating that it all made his biceps pop so goddamn sickeningly.
Did Lucifer really have to be ripped?  
You roll your eyes at how unfair this is; Jungkook having begged you last week to take him on a small shopping spree so he had enough trendy clothes to wear and didn’t have to keep sporting your Hello Kitty shirt. Not only that, but you had to spend even more bucks purchasing him necessary things to even live in the human world; his own toothbrush, cologne, hell, even boxers were on the list with Jungkook’s shameless ass promising he’ll shower you in gold once he’s ruling hell again. 
Jungkook suddenly waves his hand before your eyes, perking up as your eyes shift upwards to accommodate for his height. “Hello, human? I need you with me.” 
You blink rapidly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” 
“You okay? I know you didn’t sleep well with everything you needed to arrange.” Jungkook’s palm curls around your arm, carefully inspecting your features. “How was your call with work?” 
“Not terrible. They were kinda pissed. I was asking for vacation time at the last minute but when I explained it was a family emergency, they weren’t so annoyed about it.” Jungkook approves of that as he rubs your arm supportively. 
“I promise we’ll be back in two weeks, and your life will go right back to normal, human.” Jungkook grants you another promise as he sends a small smile, earning a miniscule, tired grin from you. 
“Did you get the last of everything from inside my apartment?” You gesture towards your building. 
“Yeah, I got everything. Just your suitcase left.” You nod in understanding as you bend down to lug at your suitcase. You struggle as your palms fasten onto the bag but find the weight too much for your flimsy arms. You make a rather resilient effort to tug it towards the trunk of your car with all your might, until Jungkook’s hand suddenly replaces yours on the handle. 
His presence casts you aside as he shoots you a tight-lipped smile and lifts your luggage himself, tucking it into your trunk effortlessly and shutting the hood. You stand frozen at the sudden kind gesture, brows furrowed in confusion. 
Did he just do something nice for me? 
You decide not to snarkily comment on it, instead shutting your mouth and making towards your beat up Prius.
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Ironically, AC/DC blasts through your car’s speakers, snickering a little once you consider you genuinely are on the ‘Highway to Hell’. 
Your laugh catches Jungkook’s attention, who’s enthusiastically pretending to drum the exact beats of the rock song. With your peripheral, you find Jungkook completely enjoying himself before shooting a look at you, then back out on the road again. 
You and Jungkook were about 2 hours into driving now, having decided to blare the music in order to keep each other awake in the early morning. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive, human?” Jungkook asks as he settles in his seat, getting comfy as your hands remain at ten and two. 
“Nah, it’s okay. If I don’t drive I’ll fall asleep.” 
“You kinda look like you need it.” You shoot him a glare as you move a hand to smack at his arm, to which Jungkook hisses and tuts. 
“Hey, focus on the road, will you?” 
You hear him laugh while you roll your eyes, returning your hand to the steering wheel. “Fuck you, do you even know how to drive, demon?” 
“Of course I do. It isn’t too difficult.” Jungkook shrugs as though you were both discussing apple-picking. 
“And how to hell do you know that?” 
Jungkook scoffs a dry laugh, taking a long, deep sigh. “Sweetheart, you have no clue how long I’ve been watching humans.” 
He reclines back in his seat as he shuts his eyes, tossing the heels of his shoes over your dashboard until you swat violently at his legs, sneering reprimandingly. “Hello? This is my car? Get your dirty feet off.” 
You shove his legs off and Jungkook awakes with a disagreeable scowl. “What the fuck? Can’t a guy goddamn rest?” 
“You’re Lucifer, Jungkook. Not a human, remember?” You purposefully chide with a saccharine tone, and you listen to him scoff. 
“Whatever.” 
“Awh, he’e becoming more human everyday.” 
Jungkook mocks you before you find his arms tightly folding over his chest, huddling against the window as he genuinely attempts to get some shut-eye. You presume he’s not so used to needing sleep. 
“Do you even know if this is the right way, Jungkook?” You ask, ensuring with him every now and then if he wasn’t just simply leading you to your demise somewhere. Who knows, maybe the real way for him to get back into hell is by sacrificing a human life through a ritual or something. 
You shiver hoping that’s not true at all. 
“Yes, I know..” Jungkook grumbles with his closed eyes and an exhausted body, watching him peacefully come to rest. 
You decide to not bother him considering he did complete most of the work packing and loading all your luggage for the road trip this morning, needing to have woken up before you for the task. You shoot a glance at his resting state, his lips falling into that pout you’ve now noticed over the week, in fact, is a natural habit of his. 
He usually makes it when he falls asleep. 
With an acknowledging side-grin, you turn down the volume of the music, and focus on driving again. 
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“You just had to eat all the Fuzzy Peaches, didn’t you?” 
“No I didn’t, there were only three left once I even got the bag, it was you.” 
“And you couldn’t spare some for me? I’ve been driving for 4 hours!” 
That particularly stupid argument is what led both you and Jungkook to pull into this convenience store along the side of a quite bustling street. Car washes, lauder mats, even a brunch diner were all located in this small plaza ‘Ed’s Convenience’ was also in. Across the street from you was a supermarket, the rest of the area littered with stores whatever odd town in California housed. 
Currently, you were waiting for Jungkook to return to you from the convenience store. Despite now knowing him and his tendency to snack a lot, you allowed him to take your card after he promised that you would be given the choice of always deciding where you eat. 
You had to seriously discuss with Jungkook that money was going to be your biggest issue on this trip. Considering gas, eating out, staying at hotels, a lot of your own personal finances were going to be depleted just for this 2 week trip. Jungkook yet again, promised indefinitely that once he returned to hell he would be able to conjure up triple what you spent on him, along with a slew of fake-sobs that you reluctantly agreed to in order to shut him up. 
You roll your eyes remembering the interaction, having set a strict rule with him that your money will have to be managed and budgeted very well while on this trip. Sometimes you would both have to survive on convenience store food, sometimes it would be best to just camp out in the car together rather than always spending nights at crappy motels. 
The sound of gravel crunching catches your attention, soon finding Jungkook appearing before you. He was wearing black ripped jeans, combat boots, black shirt all tied together with his leather jacket, holding a bag of convenience store goodies as he plopped down next to you on the trunk of the car. 
He currently munches on some gummy worms as you watch him, finding that he probably appeared the most innocent when he was eating. His eyes go round as though he’s a child eating food for the first time, and he chews in his adorable pout you can’t help but admire, rather ironic for the sinful king of hell. 
You never expected to see him in such a domestic, human state. 
His eyes flash to you and you wake up from your trance, clearing your throat before flickering back to your laptop screen. “You’re back, demon.” 
“Mm,” he hums, reaching into his bag and suddenly presenting you with a bag of Fuzzy Peaches. You raise your eyebrows in surprise as your hand tentatively clasps around it. 
“For me?” 
“Well, you threw a whole tantrum over em’.” 
You immediately move to elbow him but he defend himself, laughing as he presents the bag of candy. You accept the bag with a scoff, disguising the grateful smile and flutter that threatens your heart at the gesture. 
“What are you looking at?” He inquires with narrowed eyes to get a better look at the screen. 
“Google maps. I know you said the club you need to visit is in Chicago, but do you know the exact location so that it’s easier once we’re in Chicago? I need to know which highways to take.” 
Jungkook nibbles on the last of a gummy worm as he pouts his lips in thought, watching the clear blue sky above him. “I told you, we’d have to ask one of my demon subjects in order to find that out.” 
You nod in comprehension. “Do you know anyone we could possibly visit for an exact address?” 
Jungkook reaches inside his packet for another bite of a gummy worm. “I do. I think most of my subjects would know, though the only one I can recall the exact location of is a demon named Azazel.” He snaps a piece of his gummy worm in half, bringing one of them to his lips for a nibble as he details. “He’s one of the Princes of hell, serves right under me. He likes to hang out at this one place in Nevada I think. He’d definitely know where the celestial club is located.” 
You purse your lips as you absorb the information, checking it through with him. “Prince of hell?” 
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. “They’re these 7 princes that are meant to represent the Seven Deadly Sins. They’re a ranking just below me, powerful beings but they’d never dare defy me.” Jungkook proudly remarks, watching the way he straightens up his slouched back and squares his shoulders. 
“That’s interesting. Which sin does this Azazel demon represent?” 
“Lust. Or, well, vanity.” Jungkook clarifies. “But when I say he’s a super weird one, I mean it. He’s got his own very… unique tastes he thinks very highly of.” Jungkook grimaces as he seems to remember something bone-chilling about the demon. He then laughs, however, finishing off the last of his gummy worms as he regards you beside him, trying not to squirm at how much larger he is than you, or how he even makes damn ripped jeans look scorching hot.  
“Take a guess where you think we’ll find someone like him?” 
You furrow your brows as you tilt your head in question, Jungkook’s eyes lighting up at the adorable gesture of yours. “Where?” 
6 hours later, you stand frozen, mouth agape, legs unmoving. You listlessly stare at a loud, flashy neon-pink sign that depicts the image of an erotically-posed woman wrapped around a pole, along with the name “The Devil Wears Prada” ironically plastered underneath in cursive. 
It’s a fucking stripclub. 
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You peer at Jungkook absolutely bewildered, blinking a few times to compute whether or not he was serious. Jungkook merely stands all too giddy, arms folded over his chest as he flashes you a beaming smile. 
He’s having way too much fun with this.
“Jungkook..” You draw out his name with a scolding. 
“Oh c’mon, Y/N, it’ll be fun.” He attempts to warm you up to the idea, nudging your elbow too adorably. 
You shoot him a dirty look and snatch your arm away from him, exhaling annoyingly. “Did it really have to be a stripclub?” 
“Why?” Jungkook queries. “Have you never been to one?” 
You freeze, suddenly a lump forming in your throat and trying to swallow it down. You’re not sure how you’re going to tell Jungkook that you actually have without revisiting a long-gone memory from your past. Your eyes evade him completely then, squeezing your folded arms tighter. “I have.” 
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Is.. there a problem?” 
“No just-get us inside, will you? It’s not exactly warm out here.” You begrudgingly complain as you harshly tug your cardigan around yourself. You hate that the temperature suddenly dropped significantly at night, leaving you freezing in your tank top, jean shorts and a measly wool cardigan. 
You internally groan then, not just at the weather but standing in front of this Godforsaken place. The entire idea of a stripclub is off-putting to you, and it’s not like you’ll tell Jungkook exactly why. 
You didn’t want to recall the god awful person attached to it. 
All of a sudden, you’re enveloped by the warmth of a jacket around your shoulders. You surprisingly snap to your right and find Jungkook adjusting his cozy leather jacket over you, warm from his usual higher temperature. Your lips fall into a quizzical little pout. 
“Why’d you...” 
“Let’s go inside, we don’t want Azazel leaving, do we?” 
You regard Jungkook with round eyes as he simply sends you a smile, halting yourself from swooning over the deadly image. He wraps a warm palm around your wrist and drags you to the entrance of the club, silently following him with the hint of a shy smile. 
A long line awaits outside the door, but Jungkook confidently stalks over to the security guard on duty. The man almost protests angrily until Jungkook glowers at him with his crimson eyes, sending the man to instantly shiver with fear. He graciously opens the door for you both without a hitch, even granting you VIP access badges. 
Impression is all that colours you as you contemplate Jungkook’s mere unmatched power, knowing damn well you’ll refrain from pissing him off too much, You slip inside the lively club with Jungkook, and unconsciously slide your fingers into his with acutely rising nerves, squeezing slightly. 
And surprisingly enough, Jungkook squeezes back. 
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Your pairs of once peaceful ears are welcomed by the sound of raunchy music blasting over the speakers, scantily-clad women dancing on a neon platform with a shimmering pole, and also decorating the many suit-wearing men in the crowds. 
You feel out of place, awkward, only having been in a stripclub once, and it was not your best experience at all. You clasp Jungkook’s hand a little harder this time, even cowering into his much larger form as people pass you by and disregard all means of space. 
Jungkook’s eyes sweep over the place with nothing but mischief and mirth, watching his eyes smolder a fiery red with a smug grin.
“Fuck, now this is my place.” This must be exactly where Jungkook thrives; sin litters this place from left to right and you assume it’s channeling his powers of pure evil. 
You fear a human possibly sighting his Lucifer eyes though, and quickly prop yourself on your tip-toes. Your hand curls over his shoulder and you speak to him in his ear, Jungkook instinctively bending down. “Jungkook, your eyes.” 
“Hm?” His round orbs stare into your soul inquisitively, and you suddenly realize he actually has very big eyes, almost doe-like. 
“Your eyes, they’re red. Someone will notice.” 
“Oh,” Jungkook blinks a few times and dials down the heat, dispersing the colour. “Better?” 
“Better.” You nod. It takes a good second for you to notice how close your faces are to each other, however, and your breath catches in your throat. Jungkook’s lips curve into a little smile when he sees that, becoming too swept up in his ocean and immediately removing yourself from him. Only your hands clutch each other as you avert your sight. 
You continue to evade him and Jungkook instead zeroes in on you, scrutinizing your features. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Oh my God, don’t tell me you totally lied about going to a stripclub.” Jungkook drawled. “You’re so innocent.” 
Jungkook makes it a statement to ruffle the top of your head, and you quickly smack his hand away as you send him a death glare. “I’m not lying, for your information. I have been to a stripclub, and I’m not that innocent.” 
You have no clue the things I’ve thought of.
Jungkook cracks a sexy grin. “Hmm, are you sure about that?” He leans in eye-level with you suddenly, and you lean back in accordance. “I’m sensing something else here.” 
“The only thing you should be sensing is Azazel, demon.” You shove him back and Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh, rolling your eyes in response. 
“You’re right, I actually can sense him. He should be here.” Jungkook scans the place with his demonic eyes, attempting to discern where exactly Azazel may be. 
You’re busy hmphing when you move to cross your arms, and realize that Jungkook, while distracted, is still holding your hand. You peer down at the means of contact, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling suddenly spreading across your chest. You push it away once Jungkook turns to you, ensuring he doesn't catch you staring at your connected hands. 
“I think he may be in one of the VIP rooms, I’m going to check, okay?” 
“Wait,” you pull him back, Jungkook all ears for you. “Why are you going alone? I can’t come?” 
Jungkook chuckles a little. “Demons usually take up the vip rooms in this club,” Jungkook then suddenly tugs you towards him without warning, and you tumble directly into his chest. You peer up at him in complete surprise, only to find his smile absolutely shit-eating. 
“I wouldn’t want an angel like you in a den of sinners.” 
Your heart hammers against your ribcage, being this close to him just sets off an insatiable fire inside you that’ll never have an explanation anymore. Maybe it’s Jungkook’s attraction as Lucifer, you’re not sure, but suddenly feeling his chest against yours, mere inches from his lips, his eyes only on you in a room full of exotic, topless dancers, you feel yourself falling into his abyss. 
Why can’t I just kiss his cute lips?
A shove to Jungkook’s shoulder by a stranger snaps you out of it, immediately adding space between you two. “G-go find Azazel.” You see Jungkook crack a knowing grin before he holds up his hands in mock surrender. 
“Alright, alright.” He vindicates himself, but suddenly winds an arm around your shoulders, his lips brushing your ear. He tugs you close enough to catch a whiff of the coffee you both drank on the way here, trying not to ignite at the feeling of his lips touching your skin. 
“Stay here, don’t talk to anyone. Don’t take a drink from a stranger either, only wait for me.” He instructs firmly with a squeeze to your arm, turning to the side to question him why, but Jungkook has already let you go. He disappears into the crowd and booming club then, before you can even breathe. 
Damn, he really is fast as Lucifer. 
You suddenly become reclusive in the grandiose, erotic club. All you see are boobs and sexy women flaunting their gorgeous bodies, and as much as you find it downright impressive, respecting the hell out of the stunning dancers, a pit settles into your stomach.
Stripclubs just aren’t your thing, they never have been. Especially after what your asshole of an ex did to you in a stripclub before, they unsettle you to the very core. It brews a storm in your heart you can’t remedy nor can ever forget, sighing as you suddenly wish Jungkook didn’t leave you alone. 
What the fuck? When did you even need his presence around in the first place? 
You shake the jitters out of you. You won’t let some dark part of your past haunt you anymore nor think about the literal devil himself, you’re far beyond that and a healed person. 
You sigh as you contemplate what you’re meant to do now, Jungkook’s instructions of staying put and not even touching a drink producing your sheer boredom. You stand with your arms folded and step towards the bar ensuring you weren’t in the way of any dancing women, or didn’t catch the eye of some ogling man waving money. 
Blowing a raspberry, you silently bop around to a sultry rock beat as a new stripper presents herself on stage. Your own eyes are glued to her almost instantly, surprised by how gorgeous she is and mentally commending her for her graceful figure and well.. generous assets. 
Out of boredom, her show becomes your center of attention until a sudden tap to your shoulder turns you around. You come face-to-face with a very handsome bartender. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but this drink’s for you.” He sends you a polite smile. 
“Oh, but I didn’t order a drink.” 
“I know, I ordered one for you.” You’re internally taken aback by not only the man’s boldness, but his drop-dead gorgeous smile. A grateful grin creeps up onto your lips as you chuckle a little.
“And why did you do that?” 
The handsome stranger shrugs. “It looked like you needed one.” 
You slowly wet your lips as you try to keep from smiling too wide, encircling the glass. “That’s awfully kind of you.” 
“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off. There’s a simple moment where you’re merely looking at your glass, taking it in your hand for a drink until Jungkook’s voice rings clearly in your head. 
‘Don’t drink anything either.’ 
You furrow your eyebrows wondering why you exactly couldn’t. You teeter on either defying him or simply choosing to listen, not knowing how severe his order was. You buffer on the drink until the man’s rather hypnotizing voice pulls you out. 
“So.. what’s a woman like you doing here all alone?” 
You quirk a brow. “And who exactly is a woman like me?” 
“Too pretty to be alone.” 
You crack a chuckle at that, the charm he’s laying suddenly loosening you up. “That’s a good one.” 
“Good enough to know whether you’re alone or not?” 
You hesitate on an answer here, not knowing his intentions but giving him an honest answer nonetheless. “No, I’m.. not here alone.” 
“Are you here with a boyfriend?” 
Your heart stops at that, someone referencing Jungkook of all people as your damn boyfriend feels ridiculous. Even imagining such a thing leaves you sneering, and no the idea does not make your heart swell or your chest flutter. In no corner of the world will you find even a measly speck of you considering Jungkook as your boyfriend, a good idea. He’s only the smoldering hot king of the underworld that seems to actually be nice despite being the master of sin, has these cute doe eyes when he’s confused or these pouty lips whenever he eats. 
And he does not have you undeniably attracted to him. 
Not at all. 
“N-no, not my boyfriend.” You choke on your saliva. 
“Ah, so I don’t have to worry about a jealous man or anything.” He smirks all too handsomely. 
“And why exactly would a jealous man bother you?” 
“Because I’d like to make you mine tonight.” 
You feel your heart experience whiplash in your chest as you feel it bloom with fuzziness. Suddenly his smile is show-stopping, the way he leans over the counter emphasizes his muscles and his black button-up hugs his body like a second skin. 
“Have a drink and loosen up, gorgeous.” The smoldering bartender tongues his cheek, and suddenly his jawline is looking too good to not kiss up.
With a smirk of your own, you run your tongue inside your cheek as well, a fire lighting inside you. Your fingers curl around your glass of what seems to be a cocktail, suddenly thirsty for a drink. You eye up the handsome stranger as you bring the glass to your lips, tipping your drink over. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook’s voice startles you as he suddenly clamps down on your wrist and displaces your drink, spilling some on you. “Didn’t I tell you not to drink anything or talk to anyone?” 
His sudden rude tone ticks you off. “Jungkook, it’s just a drink-” 
“Hey, man. I was just talking to her.” 
Jungkook’s eyes immediately become annoyed regarding the stranger behind the bar, quickly approaching him with a furious look. “I’m not some ‘man’, and I know you aren’t either.” 
Jungkook then violently grabs the bartender’s collar and tugs him over the counter harshly, the anger in his eyes absolutely searing. You panic as Jungkook’s harsh actions catch the attention of others nearby, your glass now empty as it spills over. 
“Jungkook-!” You try to pull him back, only to be completely surprised with what you see next. 
Jungkook’s eyes spark into a demonic fire as he stares into the man’s very soul, and you watch as the bartender’s irises suddenly reveal a deep shade of red himself. You falter back in shock as the man’s features immediately paint over with terror so horrific, he scrambles to be let go of.
“Sir, please-” 
“Get the fuck out of my face.” 
The once smirky and charming bartender turns into the equivalent of a crybaby, practically tripping over his feet as he runs off to cower away in the employee’s break room. Jungkook without a word snatches up your hand and begins leading you through the club, ignoring the concerned eyes that follow you two. You’re overridden by a million questions as he relentlessly pulls you, not even granting you a moment’s rest.
“Jungkook, Jungkook! What are you-” 
“Did I not fucking telling you to stay put and not talk to anybody? Did you think I said that for fun?” 
The irritation in his tone makes you feel guilty, and maybe you’re realizing your mistake, but Jungkook didn’t have to be so damn pushy about it. 
“I don’t exactly see the problem-” 
“That was the problem.” Jungkook suddenly stops you both before a dimly lit corridor as he gestures in the direction of the bar. His breaths are hot and heavy as his eyes cut you cold. 
“And what kind of problem was that? He was just a bartender-” 
“He was a demon,” Jungkook emphasizes. “This place is crawling with them.” 
Something about the anger in Jungkook’s face either makes you feel turned on, want to argue back, or a deadly combination of both, 
Why is it so sexy when his jaw clenches like that? 
You try to ignore the way your legs suddenly squirm. “So what if he was a demon?” 
Jungkook scoffs dryly, wetting his lips as he looks away. “That’s what the demons do here. They reel human women in with their charms, roofie their fucking drinks and get them alone.” He then mutters under his breath, focusing on nothing in particular with sheer indignation. “You have no clue the disgusting things he was thinking.” 
You scrunch your face in confusion. “And you do?” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he simply huffs, “it wasn’t hard to tell. Do you even know what a demon would do to an unsuspecting human like you?” 
His evasiveness and avoidance of making eye contact only increases your pissy mood, folding your arms with a pressing question. “And since when did it bother you what happens to me?” 
Eyes flashing to you, Jungkook only produces a mean look of hesitation. His jaw clenches as he gnaws at his teeth, lips impatiently pressed together. He then simply takes your hand in his, muttering yet again. “I found Azazel, let’s go.” 
And he drags you away as you unwillingly tag along. 
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You and Jungkook stop before a rather grand-looking door, noticing it’s probably the most expensive and exorbitant among the hallways. The entrance is perched by two guards on both flanks, a stern-looking man and an evil looking woman, both staring you and Jungkook down as though they could see right through you.  
Jungkook clears his throat, proudly presenting himself with a look of unbothered confidence. “Good evening, underlings. I need to see Azazel.” 
“And who might be asking?” The sultry woman practically slithers out her words. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he, for the dozenth time, flashes them his scarlet eyes, watching the stoic man raise his brows in surprised acknowledgement, as the woman merely shivers in pleasure. Both their own eyes glow a deep shade of ruby, and you now understand that they’re demons as well.
Did Lucifer have some sort of connection or invisible linkage between all demons? Was there something about his eyes? 
“Ah, the king himself is here.” She cheers, clasping her hands together with excitement. Her vision flashes down to Jungkook cradling your hand in his, though, but she doesn’t show any disapproval or bitchiness about it, rather seems intrigued. 
She abandons her post and makes towards Jungkook, her red dress accentuating every slim curve of her body. She laughs an almost harmonious giggle as her hands soon land over Jungkook’s chest, biting her bottom lip as she asks in a whisper. 
“Is it really you, master?” 
Jungkook merely laughs, tilting his head as he condescendingly asks. “Who else would it be?” 
Her eyes flicker with fire, fingers slowly feeling over much of Jungkook’s muscly body as he simply allows her to do so. His expression doesn’t really communicate much of anything however, as though he’s bored and simply letting the demon have her fun. Clearly the attraction to Jungkook isn’t just a human thing, he has practically all creatures on their knees for him, and he seems to know it too. 
Arrogant prick. 
A laugh escapes you suddenly, and the female demon’s attention immediately snaps towards you, eyes narrowed into slits. 
“And who might this be?” 
“None of your concern.” Jungkook tugs you a little closer to his body, almost shielding you. You can only intently watch, unable to do much of anything. But the female demon boldly ignores Jungkook, too enthralled by you to remain obedient. She approaches your figure with almost a cat-like nature, extremely curious and hyper-aware. 
You suspect absolutely nothing, until within the blink of an eye, she suddenly grapples the back of your neck and tugs you flush against her own face. You gasp in immediate fear when her fingernails transform into sharp claws. 
“Amara.” Jungkook scolds with a reprimanding tone as he squeezes your hand, but she only continues on, the bridge of her nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone. She actually sniffs you, and her lips curve into a downright demonic smile. 
Ironic. 
“A human..” She chimes lowly, but is only interrupted by an irritated Jungkook. 
“Amara, let her go. She belongs to me.” Jungkook instructs firmly, and your heart does a backflip inside your chest. When did you ever become his? 
Even worse, when did you actually like the idea? 
“Is that why she’s wearing your clothes, master?” She queries as her sharp hand rests over your shoulder, feeling at Jungkook’s leather jacket on you. “Master never gives his clothes to anyone.” 
The fact leaves your eyes widening, looking towards Jungkook who merely sighs. He then holds onto Amara’s shoulder and forces her to face him, seriously peering into her eyes. 
“Amara, let her go.” Jungkook’s eyes beam a vibrant red as he authoritatively orders. “I will not ask you again.”  Amara immediately lets you go then with thinly-pursed lips, holding her head up high as she returns to her post. 
Jungkook wets his lips in frustration before he turns to you and gently gathers your hair in his hands, carefully peeking behind your neck. He lightly whispers in your ear, “did she hurt you?” 
Ignoring the goosebumps that arise across your skin, your fingertips canvas over your neck as you feel the slightest sting in a certain area, knowing it must be a scratch. “Not really.” 
Jungkook laughs then, and you furrow eyebrows. “Why’d you just laugh?” 
“Because the desire to sin really does kick in when you’re near me, huh?” Jungkook’s pointer finger then slides over the exact cut you had, and you instantly let out a hiss. Jungkook knowingly grins. “You just lied to me.” 
You roll your eyes, seconds from swatting his hand off you until the sudden scent of coffee on his breath stops your heart. Jungkook casts your hair aside as he gently leans over your shoulder, and invades all your personal space. You’re unsure of what he’s doing until you feel his breath fanning you—he’s blowing on your cut. Surprisingly enough, it’s almost as though Jungkook’s delicate blows cauterize your wound, feeling your pain melt away in an instant. 
Sweeping your hand over the nape of your neck, suddenly it’s as though there was never a wound at all. You look at Jungkook with pure wonderment as he simply flashes you that sexy quirk of his brow and an attractive grin. Adjusting his shirt on himself, he then fixes his jacket on you, pulling it tight around your body. He turns back to the demons after finishing his task and grasps your hand yet again “We need to see Azazel, open the doors.” 
The stoic man that’s merely stood there the entire time silently clasps onto the handle. He opens the door without a complaint, standing off to the side. Jungkook enthusiastically tugs you along with him as you pass Amara, who only flashes a half-hearted smile your way before you’re greeted by something you never expected. 
Rouge curtains, a plethora of intoxicating incense, bright, vivid colours of Moroccan splendour designs attacking your eyes. The entire place is littered with these vibrantly coloured fabrics and charms, gaudy pieces of diversified collectibles and an odd earthy though spicy scent that made you throw up in your mouth. Though what catches you next are the multitude of nearly naked women sensually dancing and sitting around a quite eclectically dressed man, your brain far from boggled. 
The man’s too busy making out with a certain woman until Jungkook loudly clears his throat. “Azazel,” 
Said man, well, demon suddenly rips his mouth away from the topless woman, wiping some lipstick that smeared onto his skin. His hooded, hazed-over eyes are far more entertained when he regards Jungkook, however, lips curving into a mirthy grin. 
“My, my, if it isn’t the king of hell himself.” 
Jungkook purses his lips in acknowledgement as Azazel leans over onto his knees, waving off his dancing women. “Nobody told me you’d be visiting little old me.” 
“Maybe if you weren’t sucking the life out of female humans, you would know.” 
Azazel’s eyes bounce as though he were dealt a hit he actually liked, snickering in his throat. “A little too haughty for someone in your position, don’t you think?” 
Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, and Azazel merely scoffs. “Think the whole of hell doesn’t know what’s going on with you, boss?” He questions rhetorically. Azazel then gets up from his seat, the women around him not even minding as they seem in almost an unbreakable trance. 
‘They reel human women in with their charms, roofie their fucking drinks and get them alone.’
Fuck, Jungkook was really telling the truth. Better yet, was he genuinely trying to protect you?
He approaches Jungkook, almost too close for comfort. Jungkook squeezes your hand in response, and you stay right by his side. 
“We all know the big man upstairs kicked you out of hell and you’re about as powerless as a mouse in a glue trap, boss.” The demon, you now realize, is almost ironically nothing what you imagined the demon of lust to be like. He seems the epitome of gluttony with his larger belly and older-looking features, honestly disgusted by him. Jungkook almost reads your mind as he makes an expression of distaste too, turning his face away from Azazel’s to actually breathe. He faces him then, eyes powerful and self-assured.  
“I’m still the king, and I rank higher than you, Prince of hell.” Jungkook squashes Azazel’s ego. “I’d watch what comes out of your mouth.” 
“And I’d do the same if I were you, boss. Right now it’s looking right about rocky for you with your powers gone.” Azazel practically, or well, quite literally spits. “I’m thinking you should choose your words wisely, could probably squash you like a pesky ant on the side of a road, Your Highness.” Something about the superiority complex and condescension of Azazel ticks you off. You turn to Jungkook trying to believe what the demon said isn’t true, but Jungkook’s acquiescing expression clues you in to the fact that that’s not the case. 
Maybe he really does have to play nice right now, you didn’t know the breadth of Azazel’s powers compared to a human Lucifer, anyway. 
Jungkook sighs as he tongue his cheek. “I just need to ask a question, Azazel.” He then instinctively tugs you further behind his larger frame, but that only draws Azazel attention to you, and suddenly his once normal eyes beam with an intriguing, red hot flame. 
“And who might this be?” His creepy voice curls around your spine and makes you shiver, sending him a look of disapproval. His hand comes out to cup your cheek but you immediately smack his hand, leaning away from him. 
His eyes glow with anger as he almost lunges towards you, but is stopped by Jungkook’s arm blocking the way. “Behave, Azazel. She’s mine.”   
“Ohh,” Azazel calms down with a snarky tone, eyes still scavenging your figure as though you were a meal to consume. “The master’s keeping a toy, I see.” 
The context of that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, watching Jungkook’s expression stay predominantly blank. He squares his shoulders when he requests again. “Just answer my question, Azazel.” 
The demon hmph’s as he sends you and Jungkook a death glare, returning to his seat. “Sit down.” He practically growls. 
Jungkook leads you with him towards the vibrant indigo, velvet couch across from the weird demon. Jungkook plops down on the cushions, and just as you’re about to seat yourself next to him, he immediately tugs you forward with a force you couldn’t deny. You tumble into his lap and your ass settles over his strong, thick thighs. Your arms naturally fall around his neck as his hands delicately hold your waist, panic overflowing you once your core presses into his crotch. 
“J-Jungkook, what are you-” 
“Shh,” he grits quietly under his teeth. “Just play along.” 
You pull a confused face, watching as Azazel becomes busy speaking with one of his scarcely-dressed ladies. “What do you mean? Why do I-”
“Azazel has a thing for human girls,” Jungkook whispers closely in your ear, hands slowly soothing your side that leaves you squirmy. He suddenly dares to nibble on your lobe a little, the touch igniting a lusty flame inside you despite the initial surprise. “Especially girls like you.” 
“What-what are you doing?” 
“Acting,” he rasps in a whisper, tongue gently licking at your lobe. “Play along.” He repeats pressingly. 
“What do you mean…” You attempt to suppress a yelp when Jungkook unexpectedly bites your ear lobe, only fidgeting over him more. “Girls like me?” 
You feel Jungkook smirk as he presses a bold kiss behind your ear, a hand of his dropping to your bare thigh. He ever so slightly brushes the tips of his fingers up and down your skin, fuelling every nerve inside your sensitive body. 
“Sweet and innocent ones like you.” 
His tone is so dark, so deep and low you’re forgetting where you even are. Your grip on his shoulders tightens when Jungkook skims his nose up your pulse point, his heated breath and lips raising goosebumps all over you. You chew on your bottom lip to contain how horny you suddenly feel, as though every cell in your body wanted Jungkook kissing you, on you, inside you. The hunger was insatiable, your legs rubbing together once your panties felt too sticky. 
“Since-since when did you care? I thought you hated humans.” 
“I said I hated humans, not you.” 
“You..” You contain a moan when he grips your bare thigh. “You said you’d never be attracted to a human like me.”
A scoff escapes him as his lips graze your skin, scrunching his shirt in your fist for any semblance of control. It’s hilarious that Jungkook is so transparent about insisting you’re different, but never explains why you are in the first place. His silence now beckons you to question him again, though it comes out more akin to a moan.
“Jungkook...” 
Jungkook then finally latches his wet mouth onto your neck, feeling your core gush with an immediate waterfall. He begins ever so slightly mouthing at your skin, laying soft kisses that were almost feather-like, barely there, yet you felt as though you were on fire. You realized he didn’t answer, wanting to query him again but fuck, you’re too goddamn distracted by his plushy lips sinfully kissing your weak spot. 
Suppressing a moan, you manage, “why are you doing this.. Jungkook?” 
“I need to show him you’re mine..” Jungkook mumbles against your neck as he sucks a soft bruise . “So he won’t take you.” 
His words snap you out of your daze, reminded that you and Jungkook are here for a goddamn task. He wasn’t doing this because he actually wanted you, there was an underlying agenda here and you need to stop getting sucked into his tempting ocean. 
You gently push him off you and find Jungkook’s amused eyes peering at you, cracking his signature grin. You realize you must appear flushed, the heat of Jungkook’s Lucifer body too searing to handle. 
Eyes locked in an untelling gaze, this position with Jungkook feels too unreal. You’re currently perched in his lap as you hold his neck and he hugs your waist, face mere inches from each other, almost kissing but not. You hate how much you suddenly yearn to kiss his lips, wondering if that certain Lucifer attraction is the reason why, or maybe Jungkook’s lips are just so fucking kissable. 
Jungkook doesn’t break your eye contact as he juts out his tongue to swipe his bottom lip, flashing his vision down to your petals that hang slightly open. You breathe carefully attempting to not suffocate, Jungkook is seriously, and very undeniably hotter than hell. You can almost taste the coffee on his breath again as he nears you, vision flashing to his lips that suddenly seem so close…
“Cozy, now aren’t we?” 
You both snap towards Azazel in unison, clearing your throat as Jungkook plants his feet down and straightens himself. 
“What’d you wanna ask, boss? Make it quick.” Azazal tends to one of his topless girls feeling him up, practically cooing at her as he speaks annoyingly. “I’ve got better things to do.” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, his hand on your tummy drawing soft circles. You try not to melt. 
“I need the location of a club, Azazel.” 
The demon laughs across from you both, caressing one of his dancers that flank his left side. “There are many clubs, boss. You gotta be specific.” 
“You know which one I’m talking about,” Jungkook scowls, his palm firmly clutching your bare thigh, and you try not to imagine what he’d feel like touching you elsewhere. 
What if he touched me down there?
Jungkook suddenly squeezes your thigh and you practically jump, trying to refocus on the conversation. You attempt to not pay attention to the way Jungkook’s practically eye-level with your cleavage. The mere prospect of his sexy face in your boobs leaves your legs rubbing together, nipples shamelessly hardening. 
God, why are you so horny?
“Angels Give You Wings, you know the one.” Jungkook affirms, seriously trying to work with the rather disinterested demon. 
But once the name’s up in the air, Azazel’s eyes shimmer with mirth as his attention shifts to Jungkook. “The infamous club, you say?” he asks rhetorically. “You should know it’s in Chicago.” 
Jungkook sighs. “I know it’s in Chicago, but I need the real address.” 
Azazel raises his brows. “And why would you need the real address?” 
“It’s not exactly your concern.” Jungkook cuts in all too arrogantly, Azazel narrowing his eyes. He now examines you both, almost scrutinizing the pair of you as he touches one of his strippers. 
“You two don’t look very close for a couple.” Azazel observes, flitting over your entangled bodies. You become displaced, looking towards Jungkook for an answer. But you only find him glaring back at Azazel as he cradles you in his arms, practically demon-growling at him.
Azazel hoots as he watches Jungkook’s anger grow. “Wow, would you look at the master being possessive of his toys for once.” He smiles evilly, laying both his arms over the back of the couch with a repulsive look. “If you’re being possessive of her, then you ain’t getting jack shit tonight, boss.” 
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jungkok practically spits.
“It means,” Azazel mimics Jungkook’s harsh tone. “If you wanna know the address, you need to let me read her.” 
You furrow your brows as Jungkook heavily sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead with distress. Your fingers ask for his attention through rubbing at the nape of his neck, voice quiet.
“Jungkook, what does he mean?” 
“Oh!” Azazel cheers all of a sudden. “She calls you by your real name, master? That’s wonderful!” He claps like a happy seal, now understanding what Jungkook meant by Azazel being quite the... odd type.  
Jungkook lifts his head to look at you then, eyes revealing something akin to.. Fear? Stress? You couldn’t place it accurately. “I won’t let him have you, angel.” 
You’re sure Jungkook is probably only saying this to act like you’re together, hell, even his hands slowly but soothingly caressing your waist and thigh have all probably got to do with this ruse. But something about the reveal of emotion in his eyes maybe indicated he could be speaking the truth. 
Or at least, you’d like to believe so. 
“Hand the girl over, boss.” 
Something ticks inside Jungkook as he flashes his eyes a searing red, and practically sneers at Azazel. “You’re not touching her.” 
Azazel’s amused expression only thrives off Jungkook's anger. “Well then, you won’t be getting your address, then.” 
Jungkook huffs with a dry scoff. “I’m not offering her to you anyway.” He then pats your thigh to move off him. You climb off Jungkook’s lap as he stands on his feet with you, avoiding your eyes as you wonder why he won’t just give you up. He intertwined his hand with yours in mere milliseconds as he sends Azazel a death glare. “We’re leaving, angel.” 
“You’re funny, boss. How do you expect to get your address?” 
Azazel’s condescending tone stops Jungkook, and you need to seriously squeeze Jungkook’s hand tightly in order to prevent him from charging forward. You should’ve known, Lucifer would obviously be irrationally hot-heated. But, also being the representation of Pride among the so-called seven princes of hell, he absolutely hated it when someone knocked him off his high horse. 
And that’s all Azazel has been doing. 
“I can ask any other demon.” Jungkook grits through his teeth. 
Azazel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Nuh uh. That’s an Angel-dominant club, do you really think some second-rate lackey could get in? It takes someone of my power-ranking or higher to even withstand those damn halo-wearing pricks.” 
Jungkook scoffs. “I’m Lucifer, Azazel. I can ask an angel.” 
Azazel snickers as though he were told an immature joke. “You really think an angel won't go straight to The Council and rat you out? Don’t think you’d appreciate seeing your estranged brothers in this circumstance, boss.” 
You hear a crack in Jungkook’s neck as you watch his jaw flex firmly again, except now, it seems like Jungkook could be breaking his teeth as he bites down hard. His eyes are a seething ruby, wondering what could be causing Jungkook so much heated distress. 
Brothers? Did brothers mean.. the rest of the Archangels? 
Your hand suddenly feels too hot as Jungkook practically crushes the life out of you. You exclaim in pain, realizing that Jungkook’s utterly losing his cool. You panic, knowing Jungkook is still quite powerful and you did not want to see him angry. He needs to simmer down before all hell actually breaks loose, worriedly approaching him. 
You rapidly step in front of him and grips his biceps, attempting to gain his attention. 
“Jungkook, hey, Jungkook.” You call him with light shakes, but his breaths only increase in speed. His vision is glowing a vibrant red and you can feel him entering attack mode. You protest for him yet again, to look at you, to calm down, hoping your voice can pull him out but gain no response. 
Jungkook is seconds from unleashing his flames, already raising his palm for a ferocious blast until your small hands suddenly engulf his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. 
“Jungkook!” You say it so worriedly, so sweetly that something almost automatically switches off inside Jungkook. It’s as though the figurative flames bursting out of him are extinguished, his breath stabilizing as you find his doe eyes staring back at you. 
You crack a smile as you watch his features change, becoming the exact Jungkook you met back in your apartment. 
“Human..” You’re unsure of why Jungkook’s stuck with the name, but funny enough, it made you laugh a little
“Demon..” You chide him, and he actually cracks a grin too. You wet your lips as you seriously peer into his eyes, speaking kindly. “Jungkook, you should let Azazel read me.” 
His eyes flood with something akin to anxiety and he grips your hand against his cheek, shaking his head. “No, it’s not a good idea, angel. He’ll hurt you.” 
Your lips pout slightly hearing his concern, again, unsure of whether or not this was all a ruse. You wouldn’t know. 
“What will he do?” 
“He can read minds when he touches people. Angel, demon, human, it doesn’t matter. But it hurts, especially for humans.” Jungkook warns, eyes communicating the urgency he desires to reach you. 
You can see where Jungkook’s coming from, whether it was for the ploy or his own genuine compassion, you wouldn’t want Jungkook to hurt himself just for you, either. But you knew this was important to him, he really needed to unearth that club and figure out his way back to hell. 
He needed to go back home.
You’ve already tagged along and come this far, not to mention how many times Jungkook really did show concern for you and helped you out. You should repay that kindness and help him too. 
“Jungkook, you really need that location.” You explain softly. “It’s okay, it won’t be for long, right? I can endure it.” 
“Human..” You can see the worry in his eyes, feeling your heart melt. He squeezes your hand harder and you try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t even mean any of it, only an act meant for the demon you can tell is staring you both down. 
But you’d oddly like to believe it was real.
“He’s going to infiltrate your mind, read your deepest, darkest thoughts, invade your privacy...” He urges you, emphasizing gravely that this is not something to be taken lightly. 
“I’ll be okay, demon.” 
Jungkook sighs with evident worry. “If you feel uncomfortable for even a second, I’ll kill him.” He proclaims. “You don’t have to go through with this.” 
“I’ll be fine, Jungkook. We’re a team now, alright? I got you.” 
You’re unsure of what emotion flashes through Jungkook, but you can clearly see his expression soften. He purses his lip, and simply nods as he slowly lets your hand go, but not without leaning in close to your ear. “You need to convince him..” Jungkook advises quietly. “Convince him about us to get the address.” 
You nod back in affirmation, detangling your fingers and stepping towards the sleazy demon. 
Azazel flashes you a toothy smile you wish you couldn’t see, repulsed as you stand before him. You notice the women flanking him don’t necessarily pay attention to you, and have only been touching and dancing around Azazel the majority of the time. You wonder if they’re under some sort of trance, attributing their behaviour to the drugging methods Jungkook informed you of earlier. 
Though you also wouldn’t rule out the doings of Azazel knowing he’s the sin of Lust. 
“What do you want?” You question bleakly. 
“Your hand, darling.” He slides his tongue over his teeth. 
“Do more than just read her, and I’ll torture you in hell for eternity.” Jungkook scolds threateningly, jaw clenched and eyes smoldering. 
Azazel merely acknowledges Jungkook as you reach the eclectic demon. With a weirded out expression, you hesitantly present your hand to Azazel, who snatches you up as though he were a starving dog seeing meat for the first time. He immediately shoves the back of your hand against his nostrils, gaining a good, heady whiff of you. You try not to feel a sense of ickiness all over your body, suddenly feeling this certain shock that runs throughout all your veins. 
It feels uncomfortable at first, but suddenly transforms into this sharp pain flooding your bloodstream. You exclaim immediately, feeling as though knives were suddenly coursing through your arteries. You falter as the feeling crawls all over your skin, clutching your hand to your chest in a panic. 
“Human!” Jungkook worriedly approaches you, but stops once Azazel’s ominous red eyes warn him. 
You calm down for Jungkook’s sake, breathing through the aching intrusion. “I’m fine.. I’m fine, Jungkook.” 
You remember his words in an instant, enduring the pain as you focus on thinking about Jungkook. He needs to think you’re both together, right? What better way than to conjure up every appealing thought you’ve had of Jungkook? 
His lips, his body, his eyes, his rockstar hair, his sexy leather outfit that hugs him just right. His Adam's apple, his thick neck, his alluring voice, the attractive way he tongues his cheek. Not to mention the adorable way his eyes go round or his small, cute lips pucker into a pout. 
Your mind naturally drifts towards the thought of all those features, and how they ignite your core anytime you ponder them. His fingers? His tongue? His lips? What could they do in other places? Would he be fast or slow? Would he touch you right? Would he be rough or soft? 
You try to imagine how it would feel if he were to touch your pulsing clit, shuddering once you register that masculine roughness he has to them. You bite on your lip, center lighting up with wanton desire once you consider how his tongue would feel, and most of all, you wonder exactly what beast Jungkook hides in his pants. You practically scream all these things at yourself, prominently contemplating your attraction to Jungkook for Azazel. 
Though funny enough, you know deep down they were real thoughts you merely suppressed. 
Azazel continues to read your mind, your shut eyes too focused on honing in on your likeness for Jungkook until all the pain in your body suddenly stops. You exhale harshly, as though air was sucked out of your lungs once you return to Earth. You recall your place in reality and face Azazel, swallowing. 
“Hmm,” Azazel contemplates, suggestive, mirthy eyes gazing up at you. “She really does belong to you, boss.” 
You hear Jungkook let out a triumphant scoff, hands on his hips as he quirks a brow. 
“You’re all she seems to think about.” Azazel then eyes your figure up and down. “And they mainly seem to be very dirty.” 
That fact makes you physically choke, coughing out the spit that caught in your throat. You rip your hand out of Azazel’s hold, recovering from the hiccup. 
“T-the address, Azazel.” 
Azazel’s annoyed vision flits to the side as he leans back. He rolls his eyes, holding out his pointer and middle finger in the air. He suddenly flicks them to conjure up a piece of paper with a bright spark of flames. Its edges are burnt, though the integrity of the piece still holds up. 
You smile victoriously as you reach out for the paper, only for Azazel to suddenly retract it. 
“You owe me for this, boss.” 
Jungkook laughs dryly, suddenly feeling his presence beside you as he flattens his warm palm against the small of your back. “We’ll see about that in hell—what did you say? Second-rate lackey.” 
The term makes Azazel growl as a counter, finally nabbing the paper from him and nuzzling into Jungkook, proudly presenting it before him. 
“For you, my liege.” You bow as part of your skit, Jungkook clasping the paper. 
“Why thank you, my angel.” Jungkook responds in the same playful tone, bowing as well. 
He graciously snatches the paper from you and tucks it inside the pocket of his leather jacket you wear. He pats the pocket condescendingly before entangling his fingers with yours and tugging you flush against his side, saluting Azazel. 
“So long, Azazel. Hope you grow the balls one day to fight me in hell.” Jungkook snarks, cocking a proud brow. “We’ll see then who's more powerful. If you’re not too busy getting your balls taken care of here, that is.” 
Azazel literally spits at the ground you both walk on, Jungkook immediately clutching you close to him as he merrily laughs at his own remark. 
And honestly speaking, as obnoxious as Jungkook can be, you laugh, too. 
Hugging the paper with the address to your chest, Jungkook side-hugs you to him as the pair of you walk out together into the main area of the strip club. There’s a new stripper on stage now, and Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ fills the hooting club as you both make your triumphant exit. 
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The soft thrum of rock beats keep your eyes open, shifting in and out of sleep as you slump into your passenger seat. Jungkook sits at the wheel now, and despite only claiming he could drive, you admit he’s a pretty decent driver for someone who’s only learned through observation. 
You’re yet again falling asleep after the day’s tedious activities, cheek resting in your palm while you huddle into Jungkook’s warm leather jacket. It was oddly very comforting. 
“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Jungkook lightly hits your arm and you shoot up, grumbling with sleep-laden eyes. 
“What the fuck, Jungkook?” 
“Feel lucky I even called you beauty, you don’t look so hot right now.” 
You roll your eyes, not caring of your appearance after driving for God knows how long. You still run your fingers through your hair, however. “Fuck you.” 
You see in your peripheral Jungkook silently scoffing, chiding you with an expression of mimicry. You narrow your eyes into slits at him, huffing at how easily you both return to normal. You should’ve known whatever concern and care Jungkook was showing you was only for Azazel, there’s no way the daft idiot could even muster a single cell of decency. 
Asshole.
Jungkook suddenly toes at your shin, nearly kicking you awake once again. You turn around and face him with sheer annoyance. “Jungkook, what the fuck! Can’t you just fucking drive?!” 
“So you have dirty thoughts about me, huh?” Your throat cinches, your brain shuts down and you transform into the epitome of an error 404 not found code. You hold up a finger in protest as you buffer, lips struggling for a sentence. 
“I-” 
“I didn’t know I was always on your mind, angel.” Jungkook bounces his brows as he peers at you, but it seems like his expression completely depicts the opposite of what he says. He eyes as if he knows the inner workings of your brain, knows exactly what you think, what’s on your mind, and knows they’re not innocent like an angel. 
God, he’s so annoying. 
“Would you shut up? That was for Azazel. You wouldn’t have your precious address without me anyway, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs, laughing at your rather cute act of denial. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, human.” Jungkook's hand once gripping the steering wheel then suddenly settles over your thigh, not squeezing or touching, but merely resting there as he refrains from doing anything compromising. 
His eyes then suddenly flit towards you.
“You seem to be quite the dirty little angel.” 
Your cheeks heat up, growing angry because.. fuck, did he actually have to be right? Why did it feel like he could see right through you? Like he could read you as though you were bearing all the pages of your book? You scrutinize him repulsively as you shove his hand off you, shuffling away from him further. 
“Whatever. You should be letting me sleep, asshole.” You counter in response. “And watch the fucking road.” 
Jungkook stifles a laugh in his throat as he returns his eyes to the road, his hand now resting over the console as he drives with one hand freely. You try not to flit down to his legs manspreading deliciously, or gaze at the veins that sprawl up his arm and his rough hand on the steering wheel. You even ignore the way he tongues his cheek as though he’s too amused. 
“Why did you keep calling me that?” 
Jungkook flickers towards you. “Huh?” 
“With Azazel, you kept calling me angel.” You grumble. “You only use that when you’re being an asshole.” 
Jungkook breathes a laugh through his nose, his vision focusing on the road as he handles the steering wheel. He swipes his lips with his tongue as he looks ahead, flexing his jaw. 
“I didn’t want him knowing your real name.” 
Your brows raise in light surprise, not expecting that concern to come from him even without putting on a show. 
“That’s rich coming from you.” You scoff. 
Jungkook cracks a smoldering smirk, hating that he was so obnoxiously attractive. “It’s rich that for an angel you have a lot of dirty thoughts.” 
You roll your eyes, shutting down the arousal that floods your core as you smack his bicep. Fuck Azazel for saying that aloud, and now fuck Jungkook for snickering about it to himself. You exhale tiredly as you tuck your hand underneath your cheek and force yourself to sleep, completely avoiding him. 
So what if you wanted to fucking jump his bones? It’s his fault for being so sexy. 
With a knowing smile and quirk of his brow, Jungkook leans over and turns the volume of the music down, continuing your journey under the dark sky with spangled stars. 
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Jungkook brings in the last of your luggage from the car into your motel room, setting down the heavy bags and suitcases in one-go. He appeared seriously fucking strong doing so, and suddenly the image of him hauling stuff like that was simply too hot to not watch. 
His shirt clings to his muscular body as he maneuvers your things around the room, filling up space the way it should. You laid on your tummy simply scrolling through your laptop, meant to be looking up the address of the club you’d received from Azazel. 
Instead, you watch Jungkook’s back muscles flex as he zips open his duffle bag, shuffling through his belongings. You genuinely wonder if it’s possible to be attracted to someone’s back. He’s just so incredibly broad and wide, his traps and shoulder blades adding to the breadth of his posterior. He seems strong enough to be able to manhandle you, but kind enough to be gentle about it. 
Suddenly you remember what your friends were all whispering about regarding Jungkook; the type of man that would let you do anything to him to gain your own pleasure. 
Fuck, would he ever let you ride his back? 
Jungkook stifles a laugh in his throat as his eyes shift to you, sexy smile on display with amused eyes. You become aware of your blatant ogling and hide behind the screen of your laptop, clearing your throat. 
“What’re you doing over there, angel?” 
You heat up once you realize he clearly saw you, though act as though absolutely nothing happened. “Nothing, I’m just researching the address we got.” 
You continue clicking through much of Google maps, only to find yourself coming up empty. That was the issue with the address you’d both earned from Azazel, it appeared like a normal address, though it didn’t show up on any maps or across the grand internet. 
“Have you found the exact address?” 
“Honestly, I’m having some trouble with it.” 
Jungkook furrows his eyebrows with a little confused noise, abandoning his things and joining you on the motel bed. He seats himself right next to you, and just as you begin explaining the conundrum, Jungkook leans in close and places a hand over your body. His fingers squish into the sheets next to you as he practically cages you on the bed, feeling a fluttering in your chest at his unusual proximity. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fabric softener he started to like set your nerves ablaze, never having expected Lucifer himself to smell so nice, be so suffocating. 
It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. He’s simply leaning over you to closely peer at the screen, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart race in your chest, feel his presence permeate your back. 
“What’s troubling you?” 
You struggle with your sentences before you can find feasible words, attempting to not stare at his thick thigh through his ripped jeans right in your face. “I-yeah. Um, did Azazel give us the right address? I can’t seem to find the club.” 
Jungkook hums in understanding, cutely pursing his lips. “I see. Let me take a look.” 
To your surprise, Jungkook leans down directly over your head to type on your laptop, and you attempt to not squeal at how incredibly proximal he is now. He covers all of your upper body so easily, and you suddenly wonder what it would be like if he were on top of you. 
He’d probably completely dominate me. 
You hear Jungkook breathe a scoff above you, tentatively peering up to find that in fact, his chin could’ve been resting atop your head. You watch his gorgeous, thick fingers type over your laptop then, searching diligently as you silently grow warmer underneath him. 
“Hmm, I see what you mean.” Jungkook chimes as he drifts into thought, also coming up dry. “Azazel shouldn’t have lied to me, the princes of hell are incapable of doing so.” 
You tilt your head and peer up at him, chin resting in your hands as you swing your legs back and forth over the mattress. “Why so?” 
Jungkook smirks devilishly, eyes flitting down to you. “They know the hell they’re in for if they do.” 
You roll your eyes, how typical of Lucifer. Jungkook ticks his head, however, as he thinks, trying to piece together what to do now. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to his chin, contemplating. 
“Can I see the paper Azazel gave us?” 
You fish it out of Jungkook’s leather jacket that you were in fact still wearing, presenting it to him. You watch Jungkook stare at the paper in his hand, scrutinizing the living hell out of it. You watch the gears in his head shift until finally, Jungkook has an ah-hah moment. 
He brings the piece close to his pink lips and gently blows over the paper. You watch in surprise as it smolders in accordance with Jungkook’s breath, suddenly small text emerging in a searing heat underneath the original address. 
‘Only those with wings can truly see.’
Jungkook cracks a scoff as he finally understands, laughing to himself. “Azazel, you damn bastard.” 
“What does it mean?” You query curiously. 
“You can’t see it, but I can.” Jungkook explains. He shows you the paper and runs underneath the first part of the text, indicating it to you. “‘Only those with wings’ means celestial beings like angels and demons, they both have wings. Humans can’t see the address or location unless they’re with a celestial being.” 
“Ohh,” you nod your head in acknowledgement. “That makes so much more sense. Google maps just kept showing me this dead-end alleyway.” 
Jungkook clicks his tongue as he ruffles your hair. “Should’ve been using that big brain of yours instead of staring at me, angel.” 
You scoff underneath him, peering up through narrowed slits. “Shut up, I wasn’t staring at you.” 
“You were pretty clearly staring at me, sweetheart. Next time you want a piece of this,” he gestures towards his brawny body. “You can let me know.” 
You pretend-vomit as you shove him away from you, Jungkook chuckling as you prop yourself back up. “Get away from me, your egotistical head is too big.” 
“Nuh-uh” Jungkook tuts with a finger. “I may be egotistical, but I know what I saw. Just tell me you want me and it’ll solve all your problems, angel.” 
“And who said I want you? It’s not like you want me.” 
“Did I ever say I didn’t want you?” 
Your eyes fall open in surprise, Jungkook merely staring at you with his mirthy eyes. He even dares tilt his head as he intensifies his gaze, growing too flustered to consider what he just said. He’s clearly only playing with you. 
“Whatever,” you wave him off. You grab the physical map you’d purchased at a convenience store. “Just fucking circle where we need to go on this.” 
You’re presenting a map to Jungkook for actual work, but he then cunningly swipes it from your grasp. “Wait a minute, what map exactly?” 
You grievously complain as Jungkook holds the map too high for your height, cursing his long arms and how much larger he is in comparison to you. You practically climb his strong body and lap to retrieve the flimsy thing, only for Jungkook to retract it every time you think you’re close. 
“Jungkook!” 
“You have to try harder than that, angel.” You breathe out a fed-up chuckle as you reach with all your might, wildly struggling as he simply giggles at your attempts. You finally snatch the map out of his hand and let out a triumphant ‘ah-hah!’
But just as you celebrate, Jungkook unbalances you with his grasp and the weight of his body sends you toppling over, falling back against the bed. Jungkook falters directly over you, his hands either side of your head as you stare up at him in shock. 
Your hands are sprawled either side of your head, round eyes regarding him with sheer surprise. You notice the way Jungkook’s knee has settled right between your legs, causing you to fidget. You swallow watching the smirk on his face grow, all too amused by the compromising position. 
“Mmm,” Jungkook suddenly hums. “For an ‘innocent’ angel you seem very comfortable as a bottom, huh?” 
You suck in an immediate breath, hating how much this position lights your nerves on fire. An arousal shoots through your core as you attempt to appear normal, countering his comment with your own. 
“Funny, you don’t seem much like a top.” You were lying straight through your teeth, and you goddamn knew it. But nothing else really mattered as you flit between Jungkook’s lips and his eyes that gleam with mischief, another typical characteristic of Lucifer, you thought. 
“Ouu,” Jungkook hisses. “You really are a liar, aren’t you?” 
You stare him down in challenge as he slowly leans down towards you, examining your every feature. “Wonder who taught such a pure angel like you to sin so much.” His voice is so condescendingly low, you couldn’t help but squish your thighs together. 
“And I wonder who taught such an arrogant asshole like you manners. They seemed to have left out personal space.” 
Jungkook hisses yet again, head dipping for a dry laugh before refocusing his almost lust-ridden, fiery eyes back on you. “We need to do something about that attitude. Angels don't talk back.” 
“One, I’m a human, not an angel.” You snark wittily. “And two, what exactly will you do about my attitude, King of hell?” 
Jungkook wets his lip slowly, taking his time with it. He very obviously flits down over your body before he arrives at your face, lowering himself even more as his fingers slide into yours against the mattress. His proximity shoots waves of arousal through you, your once dry core now fluttering with anticipation. 
Goosebumps blossom over your skin as Jungkook comes exactly face to face with you, lips mere inches from yours as your body loses control. 
“You have no clue what I’ve got in mind,” he whispers, his deep voice travelling through you and right to your dampening pussy. “But once I’m done with you, you won’t be so pure anymore, angel.” 
Your breath hitches as Jungkook maintains his heated closeness, eyes flickering down to your lips as he seems seconds from connecting them, petals brushing yours as you taste his breath… only to finally collect yourself. Registering this as Jungkook’s crazy Lucifer attraction, you quickly shove him off you with a loud huff as you sit up on the sheets, muttering almost incoherently. 
“I’m going to take a shower.” You attempt to shake all the dirty thoughts about him out of your system, slipping into your slippers and making towards your luggage. 
Jungkook chuckles before tonguing his cheek while you search through your things, his thumb swiping across his bottom lip. He props a leg up on the bed, leaning his elbow over his knee as he regards you. 
“We should eat dinner after your shower, human.” He nonchalantly says, as though absolutely nothing happened between you just now. Funny, you should’ve known Jungkook was playing, it’s practically the only trait Lucifer has. “You get to choose, remember.” 
“I do. You’ll have to eat whatever I want, though. No complaints.” You gain the courage to look him in the eye, and honestly laugh shyly when you find him very obviously checking you out. Or just looking? You didn’t know, but sitting like that while purposefully peering at you seemed evident enough. 
“No complaints here.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, ticking his head towards the shower. “Go, I’ll be here if you need anything.” 
You nod in response, and try to divert yourself from considering the fact that you’ll be in a room over from Jungkook, showering and naked. 
You wonder what he looks like naked. 
Jitters crawl all over your body and you snap yourself out of it, rapidly nabbing your clothes and rushing towards the bathroom without a single thought. You stand in the doorframe and peek back into the room, only to see Jungkook bouncing his brows just to tease you with a little wave, and you roll your eyes as you slam the door shut. 
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Shutting the shower nozzle close, you let out a sigh as you finish. You wanted to smack your head against the shower wall repeatedly, horrendously until it produced an answer for why in God’s name Jungkook made you feel like this. 
Why did you like him on top of you like that? Why were his lips so goddamn tempting? Maybe it really was the Lucifer effect he has on you and practically anyone he comes into contact with, but you groan once you realize this feels stronger. 
If it were merely the effect of Jungkook, then you shouldn’t like it so much, should you? It feels as though it isn’t an arbitrary attraction anymore, but rather a voluntary desire that keeps manifesting itself everytime you’re near him. Maybe the effect is just stronger on humans, you didn’t know. But what you did know is that you wanted him, and it did not originate from whatever spell Jungkook always manages to cast upon you. 
You smack your forehead as you emerge from the shower, spotting your clothes for tonight’s outing and drying yourself with a towel nearby. You wrap it around your chest as you proceed to apply moisturiser and your usual skin care routine, plugging in a blow dryer for your hair before sorting through your clothes for your undergarments. 
Only to realize, they weren’t here. 
You immediately gasp as a hand covers your agape mouth. Your dumbass really didn’t think to bring your bra and panties when you were angrily snatching your clothes in front of Jungkook. You feel dread overcome you as you contemplate needing to venture out into the motel room for your clothes, stepping anxiously in your spot as nerves flood your system. 
You take a deep breath once you realize that they’re merely your clothes, and whether or not Jungkook lets you live this down, at least you didn’t go completely commando out to dinner with him. 
Mustering every speck of courage in the world, you crack the bathroom door open to take a small glimpse, expecting to see Jungkook maybe sprawled on his bed and watching TV, but only finding an empty mattress. 
“Jungkook?” You call quietly, hoping for a response. You don’t hear anything though, sparking your light concern. You meander out a little further and call his name again, but gain no answer. You presume he could be out of your room right now, using this as your golden opportunity. You scamper towards your bag with all your delicates in only a measly towel, clutching it loosely from falling out of place as you scrounge through your bag. 
You rapidly put together a matching set and instantly zip your bag shut, barging it back into your suitcase. You swivel around to make a risky break for it, only to run smack dab into someone’s rock hard chest. Suppressing the desire to cry, you recognize it anywhere, complaining as you rub your forehead from the contact. 
“Ouch.” 
“What are you doing?” 
Your face heats up, carefully meeting Jungkook’s gaze as you see him fully clothed, while you’re naked and wet underneath a towel. The thought pries your embarrassed eyes away from him, clutching your garments to your chest in order to conceal them, but his sharp eyes can clearly discern what they are.
Damn his Lucifer abilities.
“I-I’m sorry. I just forgot something..” Your eyes flit everywhere but at Jungkook, who stands firmly in place without even the slightest bit of shame, towering over you. 
“You could’ve asked me to grab them for you.” Jungkook proclaims, his voice velvet-like and practically serenading you. 
“This isn’t something you can exactly grab.” You state. “It’s embarrassing.” 
“What’s so embarrassing about you being a woman?” Jungkook suddenly asks, still unable to meet his gaze, and you’re honestly glad Jungkook doesn’t demand it out of you either. His voice seems softer now however, almost understanding you. 
“Nothing, but it’s just…” You trail, not feeling exactly uncomfortable about him here, but feeling quite bare and open. All your intimate parts are covered, yes, but the mere idea that only a layer separating him from witnessing what lies underneath leaves you almost mortified. What if you’re not desirable at all to him? What would he think about your stretch marks? Your scars? All the flaws that you adorn? 
It leaves you clutching the towel even tighter, the very thought making you swallow a wad down your throat. Jungkook seems to notice your unease, and his expression falls from one of his usual amusement to seriousness. 
He very carefully, and hesitantly juts out his hand towards your hair. He considerately watches your reaction as his fingers meet a certain strand dangling in your eyesight, and he gently casts it behind your ear. His fingertips naturally fall to your chin, and you instinctively peer at him as he holds you ever so delicately. 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, Y/N. I’m not expecting anything from you.” Jungkook clarifies, his tone uber soft. “Is that what you think of me?” 
“No.. I just,” you pause, searching for better wording. “Don’t know what you’ll think of me.” 
Jungkook furrows his brows, as though contemplating how that’s even something you could say.  He light-heartedly laughs as he looks to the ground, then peers back up at you. His eyes have softened into those round orbs of coffee, noticing that his eyes actually had a tendency to emit this natural glow, almost like a shimmer of stars. 
“You really think I’d be the type of guy that judges a woman’s body? Or her bra and panties?” 
You suck in a breath listening to his pretty lips say those words, gently nibbling on your lip as your tentative sight meets his. 
“If there’s one thing you should know about me, angel.” Jungkook begins, still cradling your chin. “You never have to be ashamed of yourself around me. I’m Lucifer, baby. All your sins, your secrets, your darkest thoughts.. I got you.” 
Jungkook steps closer to you, closing the space between your bodies as he releases heat that only warms you up, both inside and on the outside. He then closes the space between you two ever so slowly, lip brushing your ear as he whispers. 
“Even the dirty ones.” 
 His words ignite a lustful fire inside you, wondering a million heart-pumping possibilities with him so close to you, but choosing your gratitude over your horniness. You and Jungkook are merely a team, not a relationship waiting to happen. And so you crack a smile as you find yourself gazing into his eyes, wondering where this was coming from, and contemplating that maybe Jungkook... really isn’t half bad. 
That was, until he opened his mouth. 
“But if you’re like a furry or something, I’m gonna have to pass.” 
You scoff as you propel his chest away from you, shooting a repulsed expression his way. “Let’s just go to dinner, jackass.” 
Jungkook laughs as he watches you march away, flickering back to scold him, but only seeing his lips curving into this rather attractive bunny-like smile, wondering why the fuck Lucifer had to be blessed with such cute lips. 
And also wondering what it would feel like to kiss them. You didn’t know you’d find out later that night, or that Jungkook is in fact hotter than hell. 
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kpopfanfictrash · 9 days ago
Text
Love to Hate (Ch. 2)
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Author: kpopfanfictrash
Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader
Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: oral (female receiving), nipple play, dirty talk (discussion of voyeurism, kegel balls, restraints), fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, rough sex, jungkook calls the reader princess, spanking, slight possessiveness, jungkook’s tattoo’s extend down his side (does this need a warning? methinks yes)
Word Count: 13,923
Author’s Note: links to be updated at a later date! 
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“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, searching your desk for the back of one earring.
Your desk is your favorite thing about your office, since the view out the lone window faces an old clothing factory, and your chair is what polite company would call decrepit, gifted by a dentist downstairs who switched locations.
Located in a second-floor walk-up on the south side of the city, the location of Clean Ocean’s headquarters is it’s only positive feature. Centrally located in the city, your front door is a mere minute’s walk from the subway. Rent is expensive though, office space is cramped, and your eating space is shared with those horrible realtors next door.
Your desk though, is arranged exactly how you like it. Papers are neatly stacked and color-coded, brightly colored paper clips are arranged in ceramic mugs. In the corner sits a flip calendar of your dog, Dante, Hoseok bought for your birthday. It makes you smile whenever you see it, although your current expression is rather dire, given how late you are.
Beside your laptop, your phone beeps, alerting you to the fact that your Uber driver is nearly here. One of the small ironies of life – whenever you’re in a hurry, the wait time skyrockets and whenever you could use the extra minute, a car pulls up right away.
In your humble opinion, irony is overrated.
“Yes, I know,” you mutter, turning to give yourself a once-over in the window’s reflection. Returning to your desk, you locate the earring by your lamp. “A-ha!”
In the doorway of your office, Hoseok pauses. Glancing around and seeing no one, he arches a brow and enters.
“Talking to yourself?” he asks, setting down a stack of papers.
Giving him a terse smile, you save the last of your documents and slam your laptop shut. Standing up quickly, you pause at the rush of blood to your head.
“Whoa.” Blinking, you pause, then reach for your phone. “Okay, all clear. How do I look, Hobi?” you ask, checking your reflection again.
“Uh.” He looks you over. “Good.”
“Just good?” Wounded, you frown. “Hoseok, I can’t just look good on a date. I have to look mind-numbingly, achingly gorgeous. Like men spontaneously sprout nosebleeds when they pass me on the street.”
Hoseok adopts a pained expression. “Right, sure. It’s just kind of weird to say that to you in a work environment, you know? Especially since you’re my boss.”
“After all this time,” you say, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “I’m still ‘just a boss’ to you.”
When Hoseok rolls his eyes, you stifle a grin. 
Although Clean Ocean is a relatively small non-profit, employing just over fifty people, Hoseok has been at your side since day one. The first person you met at college orientation, he’s become your closest friend since. The title of assistant is one you and Hoseok constantly bicker over because he’s really more of your right-hand man, or even Ops Director, but he insists on the title out of sheer principle.
Also because apparently, Hoseok gets the best gossip this way. Regardless, he’s the one person on the planet who believes in Clean Ocean as much as you do. At work though, he insists upon setting boundaries. 
Boundaries you enjoy pushing from time to time.
“Alright,” you say, smoothing your dress again. “I’m off.”
The dress you chose is burgundy in color, a wrap-around fastened by four buttons at the front and a belt. Cut low, a deep v showcases your generously enhanced cleavage. It took time to change into after work, which is part of the reason you’re late. The other part is because you’re almost permanently late to every function.
“Late,” Hoseok observes, as though reading your mind. “Again.”
“I’m never late,” you say, striding for the door. “Everyone else is simply early.”
Your dramatics are lessened when you trip on the carpet, nearly face-planting into the hall. Righting yourself, you glance over your shoulder and find Hoseok trying hard not to laugh.
“Right.” He pushes tortoiseshell glasses up his nose. “I’ll just be going, then. To my house,” he adds. “Not to a restaurant where I’ll make awkward conversation with a stranger I’ll never see again.”
“You don’t know that,” you say, although there’s little conviction in the statement. “Tonight’s date could be... the One.”
“If by the one, you mean one of the many mediocre guys who try to get in your pants – then yes, I stand corrected. He could be the one.”
“That is not what I meant,” you say, shooing him into the hall. Turning off the light, you shut the door to your office and lock it. “Alright.” Taking a deep breath, you push down your nerves. “Now, seriously, Hoseok. How do I look?”
Pursing his lips, Hoseok looks you up and down.
Your date tonight is with Eric Main, a guy you met on Hinge who sounds perfect on paper. Ivy League education, currently working for TED Talks (yes, those TED Talks) and is, quote, unquote, looking for someone to love his golden retriever, Leslie, as much as he does.
Although you normally hate it when people give their pets human names, you’ve chosen to overlook it because Leslie is adorable. The photo Eric chose for his profile shows the two of them hiking, which is something you definitely don’t do with your dog, Dante, but you could if you wanted to. Probably.
You chose the name Dante for your dog because, frankly, he’s small and weird looking – like the spirit dog, Dante, in the movie, Coco. Unlike movie-Dante though, your Dante despises all exercise above a stroll through the park, so you’ve yet to try something as daring as hiking.
Feeling a pang of dog-missing-sickness, you open your phone to stare at your wallpaper. It’s a picture your neighbor, Jimin, took of you in the park. Dante nearly bowled you over when you called his name, and the photo captures the moment your feet left the ground. For such a small dog, he’s surprisingly strong.
“Do you think it’s cruel to leave Dante alone?” you blurt before Hoseok can answer your first question. “Maybe I should call Jimin, see if they need anything or –”
Placing his hand over yours, Hoseok halts your dialing. “Y/N,” he says, looking you in the eyes. “You look fucking amazing, and your weird dog will be fine for one night alone. Okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble, putting your phone away. “And Dante is not weird. He’s just... quirky.”
“He only lets you burn frosting-scented candles.”
“He’s developed a preference!”
“That’s arguably the worst scent, Y/N.”
You level a finger at Hoseok. “Stop insulting my dog. It’s no wonder Dante gives you side-eye. Oh, shit,” you blurt, realizing your Uber has arrived. “I have to run. Thanks, Hobi!” you call as you dash down the hallway. “See you Sunday for brunch?”
“Yeah,” he calls out. “Seokjin and I will meet you at eleven.”
You nod, waving as you descend the stairs and Hoseok disappears.
Kim Seokjin, aka your one and only friend from your former lifestyle. Hoseok, you met during college when he had no idea who you were, but Seokjin you’ve known since you two were in diapers. He’s seen you on middle school picture days, when your boyfriend broke your heart at junior prom, and when you in turn, egged his car the next Halloween.
Currently, Seokjin writes for Conde Nast, a high-end travel magazine. It means he travels a lot although recently, he’s been gunning for an editor role, which means he’s been more local. You’re not complaining, since you’ve missed your other best friend around.
Pushing open the lobby door, you spot your Uber idling by the curb. The driver looks annoyed, checking his phone and – wincing – you hasten to enter his car.
“Sorry,” you apologize, sliding into the backseat. “Greg?”
Greg huffs, but gives a nod. “Y/N?”
“Present! First and Kensington,” you say, confirming the address.
Greg grunts, pulling into traffic as you buckle your seatbelt. Top 40 pop music blares from the stereo, which seems at odds with your driver’s demeanor, so it’s probably for your benefit. If so, he’s spot on and, sitting back, you hum along to the new Ariana Grande song on the radio.
It's only a ten-minute drive to the restaurant and the time passes quickly, busy texting Jimin about Dante’s eating habits. Jimin also has a dog, although his dog, Peaches, is older and much calmer than Dante. You two have a pact where you dog-sit for the other when available, no questions asked. It’s worked out well so far, since Jimin has a steady girlfriend, and you’ve been trying to go out on more dates.
As though called into being from the ninth circle of hell, Jungkook’s face flashes, unbidden, through your mind.
Wincing, you shove the image aside and try to concentrate on the present. This car is nothing like Jungkook’s. His town car was all leather seats, muted music, and the faint smell of expensive cologne. Greg’s Uber has scratchy, cloth-covered seats and kind of smells like patchouli. 
And yet – somehow, your mind wanders to the events of that night. 
His voice in your ear, wondering what you wore beneath your dress. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer – along with the many other ways he touched you, safely ensconced in the privacy of his apartment.
Jungkook would like what you chose to wear tonight, you think. Specifically, the lingerie you have on underneath the dress.
Shutting your eyes, you take a deep, measured breath. When you finally exhale, some of the heat from your skin has faded. It’s been nearly a month since your hook-up with Jungkook and somehow, you’ve managed not to use his number since.
Not that it hasn’t been tempting. The day after, you opened your phone and hovered over the delete button before finally sighing and placing your phone aside. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to cut the last tie between you. 
Probably because every date between him and now has been utterly awful.
Trying to cleanse Jungkook from your system, you’ve gone on four dates since then and each one has been awful. Well, one of them you liked enough to sleep with, and the sex between you was terrible. Eric marks date number five, and you seriously don’t know what you’ll do if it sucks.
Leaning your head to the seatrest, you inhale, only to choke on patchouli-scented air. The rest of the way you suffer in silence, taking shallow breaths and hoping the perfume you put on continues to hold. At the restaurant, you exit, thank Greg, and stand on the sidewalk for a moment to prepare.
Eric chose a nice, if somewhat busy restaurant on the southwest side. Not far from your work – and not far from the TED Talk building, too, you note as you walk. Entering the front door, you hover a moment before a man stands and waves from a table in the back.
Hurrying towards him, you feel hopeful butterflies take flight in your stomach. Eric is cute enough, you think as you draw closer. There was certainly no exaggeration of height from his photo, which was what you found out with date number two. Standing, Eric clasps your hand to brush a kiss to your cheek, which you find a bit strange but nice, accepting the gesture as he pulls out your chair.
After that, the date goes fully downhill.
Don’t get you wrong – Eric is nice. Incredibly nice, well-read, conscious of boundaries and in turn, you kind of want to scream into a pillow. He’s that kind of nice which weighs down every second, slowing time to a crawl, or maybe a trickle. When you arrived, the time was 8:00 PM and now, after what feels like an eternity, the time has only turned 8:45 PM.
If you thought Jungkook was a dating Filofax, Eric is the whole damn Encyclopedia – and fuck. Now you’re thinking of Jungkook again. 
Jungkook wasn’t nice, that much is certain. Well, okay. He wasn’t mean, but he was blunt and only said exactly what he was thinking. Which more often than not, happened to be truths you’d rather not face.
Fiddling with your napkin, you glance at your phone and wonder, not for the first time, what would happen if you called. Jungkook would be an asshole, no doubt, but maybe it’d be worth it for another night of mind-blowing sex.
It would certainly beat talking about your university’s football team and whether or not they were going to ‘go all the way’ this year.
“I’m sorry,” you say, interrupting Eric mid-sentence. “I actually don’t pay much attention to football.”
He blinks, sitting back as though surprised by the interruption. You can’t really blame him. So far, you’ve been mostly tuned out, nodding in the right places, and laughing occasionally whenever Eric attempts to make a joke.
From the outside looking in, you’d probably think you were interested. But – as you learned from your dinner with Jungkook – there’s little to be gained by pretending to be someone else. Better to be honest and genuinely search for something between you than listen to another second of ingenuine football talk.
“Oh, okay.” Nodding, Eric lifts a glass of – much cheaper – sparkling wine. “That’s cool, we don’t have to talk about sports.”
“Cool.” You give a relieved smile. “What do you do in your free time then?” 
Maybe Eric has an interesting hobby, or is a secret adrenaline junky. Anything to keep the conversation moving forward. A nagging voice in the back of your mind wonders if you’re the one with a problem. You’ve gone out on several dates with perfectly nice men and have been utterly bored by all of them.
All – except one, the same voice whispers and you block it out.
“Free time?” Eric looks perplexed by the concept. “I mean, I work a lot.”
“But outside of work,” you press, searching for something – anything – to make you stay through the entrée.
Ever since you turned twenty-five, you’ve made it a firm rule not to waste your time on dates. Usually, you get drinks and an appetizer first before ordering the main course. If you’re not feeling it by the end of the drink, you make an excuse to leave without wasting more time.
So far, it says a lot about tonight that the ceviche has been more exciting than Eric’s company.
Eric’s brows knit. “Well, I watch a lot of the TED talks my co-workers put together when I’m not working on mine. There was this fascinating one the other day about the different types of snails throughout Europe, and what this might say about farmers post-Christ.”
Draining the rest of your glass, you place this on the table and force a smile. And – that’s game. One drink and appetizer down, and you have no more inclination to undress Eric than the snails he just mentioned.
Honestly, the snail video sounds kind of interesting but relayed in Eric’s dry, nasal tone, anything would sound dull. Thinking about him in your bed, sweet-talking you with that voice makes you shudder so hard, you’re surprised he doesn’t notice.
That’s a no on sex, then. 
The realization makes your stomach sink, since you’re in desperate need of a good fuck. A fact which makes you resent Jungkook, honestly. Before him, you could go months, maybe a year with no sex and barely even notice. Now though, your skin feels too tight, an ever-present itch in your mind to feel that way again.
You already made the mistake of sleeping with one date even though the chemistry wasn’t there. Brian barely gave any foreplay before entering, and it took several thrusts before you self-lubricated enough to continue. There was obviously no orgasm, and the sensation barely felt pleasant, let alone something you’d want to repeat.
When your phone buzzes on the table, your stomach swoops, but it’s only Jimin. Still, your heart leaps when you unlock the screen to find a picture of Dante.
“Oh, look!” you blurt, flipping around your phone to show Eric. “My dog-sitter just sent this photo of my dog. Isn’t he precious?”
Dante lies on his back, paws in the air and ignoring whatever Jimin is trying to get him to do – probably put on his harness to go for a walk. Eric scans the phone once, then nods, unimpressed.
“He’s cute,” he comments.
Sensing something is off, your eyes narrow. “He’s cute, but…?”
Blinking, Eric seems surprised you’re pressing the issue. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he glances around the restaurant.
“But, uh, I don’t really like small dogs. Sorry.”
Instantly, your hand tightens. Returning the phone to your chest, you lower it to the table and continue staring at Eric. Dante isn’t small, exactly, but he’s no Great Dane.
“Gotcha,” you say, fighting to keep your voice even.
“It’s just” – Eric shrugs, not seeming to notice your expression – “in my experience, small dogs tend to be kind of mean. Super shrill.”
“Dante isn’t shrill,” you say, automatic.
Eric blinks again, somewhat concerned.
“Anyways,” you say, forcing a smile. “How’s your drink?”
“Oh, good.” Eric looks down. “I’m actually not a huge fan of champagne, though. More of a pilsner guy, myself.”
At this, you physically stop your teeth from grinding together. Multiple responses flit through your mind – this isn’t champagne, pilsners taste like wet wheat, large dogs are stupid – but you manage to suppress them.
“Will you excuse me?” you say instead, daintily setting aside your napkin. “Women’s room.”
Eric nods when you leave, seemingly unconcerned, and you hurry in the direction of the bathroom stalls. Once you’re inside, you slam the door shut and sit on the toilet, burying your face in your hands.
You can’t keep doing this. 
Going on date after date, hoping for something which never seems to happen. When you were little, your mom told you frankly to lower your expectations. You were barely twelve when she explained how she married your father for money. That’s the most practical reason a woman can marry, she told you, zero doubt in her voice.
Always stubborn, you’d refused to believe her, but now you think your mother might have had a point. Not about marrying for money, but about marriage being a practical matter. Your entire life you’ve waited for a spark, a soulmate, your other half – and nothing. Nearly thirty years, and no one has even come close. Maybe it’s time for you to give up on the dream.
Lifting your head, you stand from the toilet, flush, and exit to wash your hands at the closest sink. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a practical chill slowly fills your chest.
If you can’t have a soulmate, at least you can have the spark. Just because you haven’t found the One doesn’t mean your sex life needs to suffer.
Exiting the bathroom, you stand in the hall for a moment before taking a deep breath and marching straight for your table. Eric looks up when you hover, frowning a little when you don’t take a seat.
“I’m going to go,” you say bluntly. “This has been nice, but I don’t think there’s anything more than friendship between us.”
He stares, perplexed. “I – huh?”
For someone who works at TED Talks, he’s kind of slow on the uptake. Tapping your toe on the floor, you cross both your arms.
“I think we should end the date now, but thank you for the drink. Here’s two twenties for my share, plus tip.”
His mouth opens and closes, like a fish. “I – uh, okay. I guess.”
Nodding, you turn on your heel and march out the restaurant doors. On the sidewalk you pause and then, making an abrupt decision, fish around in your purse for your phone.
Gritting your teeth, you jab Jungkook’s number before you have the chance to talk yourself out of it. His phone rings once in your ear, then twice and –
“Hello?”
Hearing his voice, your body goes still. For the past month, you’ve wondered if you built things up between you. He couldn’t possibly be as sexy as you remember, but hearing him takes you back to that night, listening to him grunt your name as he –
“Y/N?” Jungkook must have glanced at his phone, because he switches smoothly from confused to bemused. “Is that you?”
Regaining your senses, you walk away from the restaurant doors.
“Yes, it’s me,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “What’re you doing?”
Jungkook pauses, and you can hear dishes clinking in the background. Brow furrowed, you wonder where he is and what he’s doing. Somehow, you find it hard to imagine Jungkook cooking in that big, empty apartment.
“I’m on a date, actually,” he says casually. “What’re you up to?”
Startled, you come to a stop.
“A date?” you ask. “Why did you answer my call? Oh. I see.” Sweetly, you drop your voice. “Were you missing me that badly, Jeon?”
“Nope. Charity is just in the bathroom.”
“I – Charity?”
“My date for the evening.”
“Ah.”
Biting your tongue, you stifle the urge to make a joke at her expense. Charity is probably a lovely girl who’s done nothing wrong. Probably.
“Y/N.” Jungkook’s voice lowers. “Why are you calling?”
Right. Setting your jaw, you pull your shoulders back. 
“Because,” you announce. “I’m currently on the most boring date in all existence. Needless to say, I will not be getting dicked down in my date’s bed tonight like I originally planned.”
Silence greets this and eventually, you hear a soft swear on the other end. Lips turning upwards, you listen as Jungkook attempts to pull himself together.
“That’s a shame,” he says at last, sounding too composed. “And how, exactly, do I fit into this equation?”
“You said to call if I ever wanted to fuck again.”
“That’s true, I did.”
“I’m not going to beg, Jungkook,” you say, examining your nails. “This is a limited time offer. I’m equally fine returning to my vibrator.”
Quietly, Jungkook growls. It’s a blatant lie, of course. Although your vibrator is tried-and-true, you would much rather have Jungkook giving you an orgasm than plastic.
“Mm,” he says carefully. “I’m on a date right now, though.”
“Oh, please,” you say with an eye roll. “If you were seriously interested in whoever you’re with –”
“Charity.”
“If you were seriously interested in your date, you never would’ve picked up the phone when I called. Even if your date is in the bathroom.”
“Let’s say you’re right,” Jungkook says, switching tones. “What’s in it for me?”
“Was that not obvious?” you say sweetly. “Me, ass up in your bed, wearing the skimpy lingerie I planned on another guy tearing off with his teeth.”
“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters. “Yes. Okay. I’ll meet you at my apartment in twenty minutes. Text you the address.”
“Done.”
“Hang on, wait – my date is coming back from the bathroom.”
Baffled, you glance around. “Why would that –”
“Grandma?” Jungkook’s tone switches to alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Stifling a laugh, you clasp a hand over your mouth.
It’s obnoxious, but you can’t say you haven’t done it before. Hoseok has called you many a time with a fake emergency when your date isn’t going well, and the guy you’re with doesn’t seem like he’ll accept the word no.
“Alright, stay there and don’t move,” Jungkook says sternly.
“I have to say, I don’t love that you’ve made me your grandmother in this scenario,” you comment.
“Need me to bring you anything?” he asks, fully committed to the bit.
“Do you mean like, snacks or condoms?”
Jungkook clucks his tongue. “Be careful,” he says, voice dropping. “If you keep going like that, you’ll be sore tomorrow.”
He says this in an entirely inappropriate tone for his grandmother, but it causes instant heat to spread through your body.
Before you can reply, he hangs up and you’re left listening to an empty call. Glancing around, you realize Eric must have left. You don’t see him through the restaurant’s windows, so you head towards the curb to wait for a cab.
It doesn’t take long for one to come and, hailing the driver, you feel your phone vibrate again. It’s Jungkook with his address, which you rattle off to the driver as you slide inside.
Leaning back, you glance out the window and watch the city pass by. Skyscrapers and office buildings flash into view, muted grey fronts broken by passing pedestrians. It doesn’t take long to reach Jungkook’s place and, exiting the cab, you crane your neck backwards to look at his penthouse. Hard to tell, but you don’t think you see any lights on.
Entering the lobby, you’re certain you’ll have to wait for Jungkook – only to stop short when you see him on the sofa.
Low, white chaises are situated before a sleek, gas fireplace opposite the entrance. Jungkook sits on the sofa nearest, facing you with one leg crossed over the other. Both his arms are relaxed over the seat back, watching you with a casual grin on his face.
Halting your steps, you look him up and down. “Hi, Jungkook.”
His grin widens. “Beat you.”
“Ugh.” Pulling your purse from your shoulder, your rifle around for your Chapstick. “Don’t make me regret calling you.”
In your peripheral, you see him stand, stretching both arms overhead as he walks your way. His cologne makes you feel slightly light-headed, but not in a bad way. Most cologne makes you want to cough, but his smells light and airy – cotton and lemon, maybe. Something citrus for sure.
Coming to a stop, Jungkook places both hands in his pockets to look down. Applying Chapstick, you glance up and watch his gaze focus on your mouth.
This gives you time to examine him, an act you deem both necessary and worthwhile. Jungkook is dressed more casually than on your date, which makes you oddly pleased. A mustard-colored blazer layered over a blue and white striped shirt, paired with tan slacks, and dark brown boots. His hair’s been styled to perfection, a slightly gelled piece flopping over his forehead.
When you’re done looking, you realize Jungkook has noticed.
Brow arched, he says, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t regret this.”
And just like that, all your bones turn to jelly. He sounds so certain, so wholly confident in the fact that you’ll have a good time – you can’t help but believe him.
“Fine,” you sigh, turning to walk towards the elevators. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Jungkook laughs, easily catching up. He walks casually beside you, hands still in his pockets.
“Aren’t I allowed to be a little smug?” he teases. “I thought you said you’d never call me again.”
Despite his tone, there’s curiosity to his gaze. His words hang between you, the end of his sentence obvious. And yet, here you are. Coming to his apartment after giving in to calling him.
“I know,” you exhale, pressing the elevator button. “Turns out, good sex is surprisingly hard to come by.”
“I haven’t found that to be true.”
“For women,” you clarify, turning to face him. “Good sex is surprisingly hard to come by for women.”
Jungkook considers, then nods as the doors slide open. “Fair enough,” he says, stepping inside. “Well, I’m happy to be of service. Speaking of.” His gaze trails your body, darkening slightly. “Who was the idiot who missed out on seeing you naked tonight?”
“Nuh-uh.” You shake your head. “No personal details. I think it’s best if we keep our lives as separate as possible.”
Somewhat amused, Jungkook presses the P button and swipes his black card as a key. Leaning against the mirror, he examines your expression once more.
“Oh?” he muses. “And what else have you decided?”
Straightening, you take a deep breath as you prepare your words. This is something you thought about on the way over. If you’re going to do this with him, you should probably control as many variables as possible. 
As someone from your former world, Jungkook will understand what might happen if word of this were to get out.
“Okay,” you say, using your sternest voice. “If we’re going to do this, I think there should be rules.”
Jungkook lifts a brow. “If we’re going to do what, though?”
“Don’t make me say it, Jeon.”
A smile breaks free. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Fine.” You roll your eyes. “If we’re going to be fuck buddies, we should set some ground rules. Number one, let’s not discuss our personal lives.”
“Hang on.” Holding up a hand, Jungkook’s eyes gleam. “Back up a step – are you saying you actually want to do this again? After tonight, I mean.”
You hesitate, hearing the note of challenge – or maybe it’s finality – in his voice. As unpolished as his execution is, Jungkook is forcing you to articulate exactly what you want, which you can appreciate.
Because he’s right, this arrangement has danger written all over it. Frankly, you’ve never considered a sexual relationship with someone from your former world, but that was before you had sex with Jungkook. Before you realized exactly what it meant to be sexually compatible with someone in the bedroom.
If only it weren’t with him, of all people.
“I don’t know,” you say finally. “Let’s just… set the rules and see what happens.”
Jungkook considers, and you wonder if he’ll call you out, but he doesn’t. “Alright,” he agrees, relaxing a little. “Agreed to rule number one.”
“Right, so –”
“I think it’ll be hard, though.”
You pause, brow furrowed. “What?”
“Not saying anything about our personal lives.” Delicately, his brows lift. “I mean, you already know I was on a date tonight. I already know you own a vibrator. That seems pretty personal.”
“You know what I mean,” you retort, your eyes narrowed. “As much as possible, we keep this about sex. Rule number two,” you say, barreling on. “Protection is a must. I’m on the pill, but we use condoms, too.”
“Makes sense.”
Uncertain, you blink, since that was remarkably easy. In your experience, men have never been more creative than while searching for an excuse not to wear a condom.
“Uh,” you say, regaining yourself. “Okay. We should also get tested. I went to my gyno two weeks ago, and I’m clean, but I’ll send you the results. When was your last check-up?”
“I get tested monthly.” 
Again, you find yourself surprised. “Oh. Okay. I mean, I should probably be appalled that that’s necessary but honestly, I’m just glad you’re a responsible fuckboy.”
Lifting one shoulder, Jungkook lets it fall. “It’s what anyone decent would do. I’ll email you my results once we get upstairs.”
“Alright, cool. Rule number three. This” – you gesture between you – “isn’t exclusive. We can still see other people.”
Jungkook’s gaze flickers. “Agreed.”
“Four. Either of us is free to break this off any time.”
“Mm.” He pauses. “And why would I want to end things?”
“I mean, pick a reason.” You wave a hand. “You get bored. I get bored. I find someone I want to date exclusively. You get an STD.”
His eyes narrow at the last one. “What if I find someone I want to date seriously?”
“You?” It’s a struggle not to laugh. “Jungkook, have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“Well, no. But I’ve always been of the belief it’s never too late to try.”
Deciding to ignore this, you continue on with the rules. There are only a few floors left before Jungkook’s apartment, and you want to make sure the details have been ironed out.
“And five,” you say, regaining control. “Under no circumstances are my parents to find out about this. If they do, I’m immediately invoking rule number four.”
Jungkook tilts his head. “You dislike me that much?”
He doesn’t sound hurt, exactly, but there’s an undercurrent to his words you can’t quite place. It makes you pause long enough to relent and exhale.
“No,” you admit. “It’s just… I’ve worked hard to keep my parents out of my love life. Aside from the occasional blind date, they’ve mostly given up on me dating someone from their circle. If they were to find out about you, though…”
Trailing off, you allow Jungkook to imagine. 
You’re sure it’s not a scenario Jungkook wants, either. Your parents are powerful, same as his father, and if they decided the two of you dating was good for their public image, well – it could prove difficult for either of you to say no.
Frowning a little, Jungkook finally nods. “Agreed.”
His elevator dings, sliding open to reveal his apartment. The décor is spotless, looking exactly as it did the last time you were here. Wandering in, you remove your shoes and glance around.
“Do you actually live here?” you wonder out loud.
Jungkook laughs, crossing the room to the kitchen. 
“Uh, yeah. Why do you ask?” he says, grabbing a bottle of wine from a bar cart. Rummaging around for a wine opener, he opens a drawer and looks up. “Do you want a glass?”
“Sure,” you say, crossing the room. Seating yourself on a bar stool, you swivel around. “Your place is just so… pristine,” you say, answering his first question. “It looks like a photograph from Good Housekeeping, or something.”
Wrenching upwards, Jungkook pulls the cork from the bottle to set aside. Turning around, he procures two glasses – the right shape for the wine he’s selected, you note – and begins to pour.
“Honestly, I’m not here that often,” Jungkook confesses, watching the wine level rise. “Usually, I’m at the office or with my friends. Or ‘fulfilling my society obligations,’” he adds, using one-handed air quotes. “This is really just the place where I sleep.”
Accepting the wine glass he gives, you take a thoughtful sip.
Although your apartment is smaller and boasts an impressive view of a solid brick wall, you pay the rent by yourself and have it furnished to your liking. It has character, as they say. Your sofa is ancient, bought from an estate sale up north; Hoseok helped you lug it up five flights of stairs, and the stain in the right corner is wine spilled by Seokjin.
Your place isn’t perfect by any means, but it’s real and it suits you. Glancing around, you can’t get any feel for the man who lives here. Or sleeps here, as Jungkook has said.
Keeping his gaze level, Jungkook drinks from his wine glass. Raising yours to your lips, you take a small sip and feel your eyes widen.
“This is really nice,” you say, glancing down in surprise.
Reaching for the bottle, you turn its label to face you. A Barbaresco wine from the Piedmont region of Italy – fancy, especially for a self-proclaimed bachelor.
“Yeah, well.” Jungkook’s cheeks redden as he drinks. “I’m kind of a nerd when it comes to wine.”
“Oh?” You glance at him with interest. “A budding sommelier?”
“An actual sommelier,” Jungkook corrects. “Took the courses after college but, well… you know.” Subtly, his expression shifts. “Haven’t had time for hobbies recently.”
Fingers playing with the stem of your glass, you wonder if you should offer Jungkook something in turn. A piece of information about yourself, since he just confessed to something he didn’t have to. 
Then, realizing this would be dangerously close to personal conversation, you straighten. Seeming to notice, Jungkook’s gaze turns heavy-lidded.
“So.” He pauses. “What did you want to do tonight, Y/N?”
Swiftly, his gaze sweeps your frame, heat lingering in each place he passes. Shakily, you take a final sip of your wine and place this on the counter.
“If I say, ‘have sex,’ would that be too on the nose?” 
Jungkook’s lips twitch. “There are a lot of different ways to have sex, though.”
“You mean like, positions?”
“That, too.” Jungkook pauses. “I was more thinking about things which turned you on last time. The idea of being tied up. You liked watching yourself in the window... we could do more things like that.”
The inside of your mouth has gone dry. “More things like…”
“Restraints. Voyeurism. Or maybe,” he adds with an appraising glance. “Something entirely different. Role play. Shower sex. Toys.”
Surprised, you glance around his apartment. “You have toys… here?”
Jungkook fights back a smile. “I mean, yeah. Why should women get to have all the fun?”
Heat licks the base of your spine, fingers digging into the counter before you. Truthfully, everything Jungkook just said made your insides tighten. You’re beginning to wonder if he could do whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted, and you would still be interested.
For tonight, though, there’s something that’s lingered in the back of your mind. Something Jungkook mentioned the first night and you haven’t been able to completely forget.
“There is… one thing,” you say, then pause. “What about... oral?”
Jungkook stills. “I thought you weren’t interested in that.”
“I wasn’t.” Uncertain, your voice drops. “But… well, there were a lot of things you did last time which…” You clear your throat. “I want to try this with you. Just once.”
Jungkook considers, fingers tapping the counter. You can’t help glancing at them, remembering what it felt like to have them inside you, which proves distracting enough that you nearly forget what you said.
“Alright.” Jungkook ceases his movement. “But we’ll go slow. If at any point you’re uncomfortable, you tell me, and we stop. Okay?”
Quickly, you nod and relief courses through you, followed by eager anticipation.
Receiving oral has always been a hang-up for you. It started with your high school boyfriend, Kevin Fink, who went down on you one summer in the back of his father’s Rolls Royce. Legs spread, you stared at the ceiling with your panties pushed to your ankles and skirt rolled around your waist.
Kevin prodded around for awhile before awkwardly licking someplace definitely not your clit. He kept going like that, making things wet and uncomfortable before lifting himself to declare the act a success. You stared at him in disbelief, then broke up a week later.
Your ex got revenge by telling everyone on the guy’s soccer team you smelled terrible down there. It wasn’t true – your gynecologist confirmed this when you went to her, panicked – but by then, it was too late. The damage to your reputation was done.
The next time you tried oral was with your boyfriend five years ago, a couple of months into your relationship. He begged you to let him try and one night, drunk off champagne, you gave in and agreed. It felt nice at first, but nothing more than that and eventually, he gave up, declaring something wrong with your body.
Ever since, you’ve left the topic alone. Apparently, it’s hard to make you come – this is something you’ve heard since you began having sex. Jungkook is the only person who’s ever made it seem easy. 
It’s why you find yourself wondering if with him, other things would be easy, too.
“Are you done with your wine?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts.
“Oh. Yeah,” you say, pushing the glass aside. Hopping down from the bar stool, you glance around. “Where to now?”
Coming around the corner, Jungkook grabs your hand so smoothly, it must be practiced. You barely have time to react before he’s pulling you down the hall.
“Bedroom,” he says, speaking over his shoulder. “More room to be comfortable for your first time.”
“It’s not my first time with oral,” you say, bristling slightly. “Guys have eaten me out before, Jungkook.”
“Right.” He nods, pushing open the door. “But I haven’t.”
You should groan, but something about his delivery – a look, paired with a wink – leaves you smiling instead. His arrogance should be off-putting and it kind of is, but it also feels freeing, watching him display utter confidence in his own skin.
Entering his room, you feel transported to the last time. Floor to ceiling windows take up two walls, a gigantic King bed situated opposite the muted light. Feeling suddenly nervous, you come to a stop in the middle and release Jungkook’s hand.
Without meaning to, your gaze drifts to the bed, remembering the last time he fucked you. Muscles tense with anticipation, your eyes flutter shut when he steps behind you.
Ghost-like, the pads of his fingers brush down your bare arms.
“Just a reminder,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to your neck. “That you’re free to leave any time.”
“Obviously.” Eyes still shut, you lean into his kisses. “That’s rule number four of the agreement.”
“Ah, yes.” Jungkook’s laugh brushes your throat. “Our agreement to be fuck buddies.” He pauses. “Is that what we are, princess?” Turning you around to face him, he waits for your eyes to open. “I thought you didn’t even like me, Y/N – and now we’re friends?”
“Well, saying fuck enemies just sounds stupid.”
A surprised laugh escapes him. “We’re enemies, then?”
“I… don’t know,” you admit, for some reason deciding to tell him the truth. “It’s definitely not… hate I feel when you touch me.”
His gaze darkens. Reaching out, Jungkook slips a hand around your waist to pull your chest against his. His other hand slips down your spine, cupping your ass to give a casual squeeze.
“No,” he murmurs, the word barely audible. “Definitely not hate.”
Pressed to his body, you can feel the throbbing bulge of his growing erection. Emboldened, you slip a hand between you to cup over his front. Jungkook lets you, his gaze lazy as you slowly explore. Hand trapped between you, it feels hot and elicit to palm him through his pants.
This continues for a while, until Jungkook lowers his head, growling, “Enough,” in your ear. He tugs the lobe with his teeth, pressing heat-laden kisses down the skin of your throat as you tip your head back.
Sucking in a breath, your arms rise to his biceps as Jungkook travels downwards. Stopping at the neckline of your dress, he looks up.
“I believe you said something about skimpy lingerie you planned for someone to tear off with his teeth?” he murmurs.
Without looking away, you lift your hands slowly to undo your belt. This drops to the floor and, once the four buttons are undone, Jungkook pushes your dress from your shoulders. 
When it falls, you’re left in only your underwear. Panties, sheer and glistening, and a delicate bustier made entirely of lace. Your nipples are visible through the fabric, making Jungkook exhale and shove a hand through his hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters, not looking away. “Yeah. This was a good decision.”
“What was?”
“Answering the phone,” he says simply. Catching you by the waist, Jungkook crushes you closer. “I want to make you come from playing with these,” he says bluntly, cupping a breast with one hand. “One day.”
Thumb brushing a turgid peak, he hardens one nipple and lowers his head to the other. Jungkook’s mouth closes over your bra, sucking and tearing a gasp from your throat. He keeps teasing you this way, yanking the other cup down to stroke your nipple with his thumb.
Each ministration leaves your core throbbing, hips canting against nothing as he plays with your breasts. You can feel your thighs growing slippery when finally, Jungkook lifts his head.
“Remove your lingerie with teeth, yes?” he asks, gaze glinting.
Nodding, you turn around as Jungkook steps behind you. Watching him in the window, you watch him lower his lips to your neck. Gently, his mouth trails your spine until reaching your bra. When he breaks the clasp, your back arches, and you stifle a gasp as your breasts are revealed.
Pulling you backwards, Jungkook touches his front to your spine. “Feel that?” he murmurs, hand slipping down your stomach. From behind, his erection presses into your ass. “Feel how hard you make me? How badly I want you?”
Somewhat dazed, you watch his hand cup your sex. Gently, his middle finger moves up and down over the silk of your panties.
“I like having you naked like this,” he admits on an exhale. “While I’m still fully clothed. Makes me so hard. What if I just pulled out my cock and entered this pretty pussy – you wouldn’t mind, would you, Y/N?”
“No,” you breathe, unable to look away.
His finger continues its rhythmic exploration, your chest rising and falling within the cage of his arms. His cock is rock-hard, pressed to your ass in a way that makes you squirm.
“I knew it.” There’s triumph in his voice when he cups your pussy and you can’t help it – you mewl, melting backwards against him. “We’ll have to do that,” Jungkook muses, sucking on your neck. “Sex in public. Do you like the opera, princess?”
“I – it’s fine,” you breathe, fighting to stay upright.
“I mean, who does?” he relents, pulling your panties aside to slip over your clit. “My family has a private box, though. It’d be easy to go. To have you wear a dress with no panties. No one would notice if you moved from your seat to mine. If you gripped my chair to lower yourself on my cock, fucking yourself to a couple of orgasms.”
You moan, head lolling against his shoulder as he touches you. As though sensing your peril, Jungkook pulls his finger back and readjusts your panties in place. Outraged, your gaze opens to stare at him in the window.
Jungkook chuckles. “I think you’re ready for me, princess.”
Somewhat dazed, you remember where this is headed. Jungkook giving you oral and, the moment you think this, your entire body tenses.
“Right,” you exhale.
Removing his blazer, Jungkook drapes this over a chair and begins to undo his shirt. Once this is undone, you take a step closer to examine.
“What do your tattoos mean?” you ask, curious.
Jungkook looks up. “Do they have to mean something?”
“No.” You shrug. “It’s just if they did, I’m interested in knowing.”
He pauses, looking at you for a moment with an unknown expression. When you say nothing else, Jungkook exhales and looks down.
“Some have meaning,” he admits, hands reaching for his belt. “Initials of my mom on my knuckles. Friends up my arm. My birth flower on my wrist, and a few other things.”
“That’s cool,” you say and surprisingly, you mean it.
This sets off warning bells in your mind, sensing the conversation is getting too personal.
“So, where do you want me?” you ask, changing the subject. “On the bed?”
Beside you, Jungkook’s belt hits the floor.
“Yep,” he says, undoing his zipper. “Sit on my bed, then scoot back.”
Forcibly ignoring the throb in your panties, you settle onto his bed and move back. Keeping your legs shut, you’re suddenly aware of how naked you are. Only your underwear remains between him and you.
Jungkook keeps his boxer-briefs on, looking like a fucking greek god in his Balenciagas. Standing above you, he surveys your naked body and in response, your nipples tighten. Unfair, that he can do that with barely any effort.
“Lay back on your elbows,” Jungkook suggests, lowering a knee to the mattress.
His black boxer-briefs cling obscenely to his hips, hugging his ass like they’re about to fall off. You watch taut muscles work when he kneels, only remembering what’s at hand when he looks down expectantly.
“Spread your legs,” Jungkook says, sounding hoarse. “I won’t touch you yet. Just want to see your pretty pussy, Y/N.”
Heat drenches your core as, slowly, you open your legs. Jungkook’s gaze darkens, near-black with hunger at the sight of your glistening cunt. Feeling somewhat emboldened, you reach down and pull your panties aside.
Jungkook moans, looking up. “You’re killing me,” he breathes. “Please – can I touch?”
You realize he’s hard when you glance below his waist. Jungkook wants you, you realize. He wants to do this with you, he wants to eat you out and make you come. Realizing this sends a rush of arousal through you.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Touch me, Jungkook. Lick me.”
Muttering a swear, he drops to his forearms between your spread legs. Reaching out, he delicately takes your panties to cover your dripping arousal. You wonder why until he lowers his head – and deeply inhales.
Fascinated, you stare as Jungkook glances up.
“Fuck, you smell sweet,” he says, gaze brimming with hunger.
One hand on your knee, he kisses up your thigh. Turning his head, Jungkook’s lips ghost the outside of your panties. His breath teases the point where your body throbs, heat and desire mingling in a single location.
“Jungkook,” you whisper, thighs falling open. “Please.”
Lowering his head, Jungkook inhales again. His nose traces a line down your panties before he pushes the fabric aside to give a tentative lick. Stiffening slightly, you wait for a negative reaction, but Jungkook just growls and licks you again.
Tongue tracing your folds, he moves back and forth with slow, languid motions. It feels good – better than good, when he laps your arousal. Rising briefly, Jungkook closes his lips over your clit to give a slow, tender suck. In response, your body nearly arches clear off the bed.
“Oh – fuck,” you choke, your hands twisting in sheets.
“Did you like that?” he murmurs.
Slipping his finger lower, Jungkook traces over your opening. Swirling his tongue, he moves once, then twice over your swollen clit.
“Yes,” you moan, chasing the press of his mouth. “Right there.”
He does this again, sucking with unbridled enthusiasm while you writhe underneath him. Each time your thighs start to shake, he switches the rhythm and denies you an orgasm. Fresh arousal gushes from your cunt, soaking the bedsheets and his hand underneath you. He’s going to make you come, you realize – you can feel it, deep in your gut as he plays with your pussy in ways no one has before.
Now he’s just toying with you, showing you how fun this can be, how good it can feel and how he’s the only one who can give it to you. The fact isn’t lost on you as you thread your hands through his hair, thighs spread on the bed, undulating against his mouth.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you moan, hips rising against him. “You’re – oh my god – yes.”
Pausing, he looks up with a wet-lipped smirk. “That’s it,” he breathes, slipping a finger inside you. Gasping at the intrusion, you clench when he curls the lone digit forward. “You’re doing so well, princess. So close to coming, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” you gasp as he fucks you with his finger.
“Good.” Bending, Jungkook sucks on your clit in slow, steady motions until your body is trembling. Breaking away at the last moment, he lifts his head. “Then, come.”
Your eyes widen and, enjoying your stunned silence, Jungkook returns to between your legs. Moving with newfound purpose, he adds a second finger and curls them both forward.
Keeping one hand on your hip, he continues eating you out until your whole body is taut. Panting his name, you grip his hair harder against the torturous onslaught of his mouth. Rolling your hips, a cry tears from your lips as the tension inside you snaps. Shuddering apart, your orgasm sweeps through you in bright, cresting waves.
Breathing hard, you come down from the high. Feeling molten, you wait a moment, then open your eyes.
Jungkook lingers between your thighs, skimming your folds with his fingers before he pulls back. Shifting his weight to one forearm, he keeps his gaze on you as he slips each finger – one by one – into his mouth to lick clean.
Your whole body clenches. “Shit,” you mutter.
The sight is so hot, your vision clouds for a moment, leaving you feeling as though your last orgasm never happened. Needing more – needing him – you abruptly sit up.
“Strip,” you say, slipping your panties off. “I want to see you naked.”
Jungkook obeys, eagerly reaching for the waistband of his boxers. Roughly, he shoves these down until a faint smattering of dark hair appears on his torso. You stare in fascination, not having had much time to look before.
While Jungkook’s arm is entirely covered, the ink on his right side is patchy. Swirls of dark ink and skin stretch from shoulder to pelvis, leaving a fair amount of canvas still to be covered. Without thinking, you reach out and trace a petal at his hip.
Jungkook stills, glancing at the sight of your hand on his waist. 
“Sorry,” you murmur, looking up. “Your tattoos are nice.”
His brow flicks upwards. “Nice?”
“Yeah.”
Slightly embarrassed, you draw back and Jungkook catches your hand. Slowly, he replaces his hand with yours on his boxers and waits. Holding your breath, you realize how close you two are as you pull his boxers down.
Gaze lowering, your lips inadvertently part when you see his cock. Secretly, you’d wondered if you overexaggerated it in your mind. Maybe you’d been so dazed by your orgasms, you hallucinated the size and width of Jungkook’s cock.
Faced with him again, you’re forced to admit Jungkook’s as pretty as you remember. His cock stands, thick and hard below his waist. A fat bead of cum lingers on the tip, inviting your mouth to wrap around him and suck.
“Damn,” you mutter.
Chuckling lowly, Jungkook takes your hand again to wrap around his cock. Hissing through your teeth, you leisurely stroke, then release his length.
“Boxers,” you demand. “Take them off all the way.”
He obeys again, pushing them down until they lie on the floor. Entirely naked, he waits, and you push him gently backwards. Surprised, Jungkook takes a seat before you on the bed.
“Where are your condoms?” you say, glancing around.
“Bedside table.” Jungkook’s brows draw together. “I can get one for you if –”
“No need.” Locating the table, you open the top drawer and pause. “Oh my god,” you breathe, eyes wide. “You have a sex drawer.”
Lowering himself to his elbows, Jungkook gives a lazy smile. “What of it, princess? Something catch your eye?”
Scanning the drawer’s contents, you’re not sure how to answer because truthfully, a lot of it seems interesting. Frowning slightly, you pluck two rounded balls on a string from the front.
“What are these?” you ask, weighing them in your palm.
Jungkook’s smile flashes in darkness.
“Kegel balls,” he answers.
Curious, you examine them closer. “What do they do?”
“Well.” Jungkook shifts his weight. “You put them inside you, holding them in place using only your… muscles.” His gaze flicks lower. “I’ve heard it’s fun for women to wear them in public.”
A shiver goes through you, imagining these inside you while out for the night. It would be fun to use them with Jungkook, but not right now. Replacing them carefully in the drawer, you grab a condom from the stack and turn away.
“Another time,” you say, enjoying the hunger which crosses his features.
Opening the condom, you throw the wrapper in the trash and look down. Jungkook remains seated, legs extended, his cock maddeningly hard. Swinging your leg across his thighs, you position yourself above him.
“Y/N.” Catching you by the waist, one of his hands slides gently upwards. “What are you doing?” he murmurs, cupping the back of your neck.
“I want to ride you.”
Unthinking, he wets his lips. “That’s… you don’t have to do that, Y/N.”
“Who said anything about have to?” Ignoring him, you reach down to roll the condom on. Stroking him gently, you slip the rubber down. “I want to.”
“You just came, though,” he counters. “Let me get you wet again.”
Startled, you let out a laugh. Jungkook frowns in confusion until you grab his hand to place it between your legs. Slipping both your fingers and his through the slick of your folds, you watch his expression change.
“Check for yourself,” you murmur, wondering when you became so bold.
With past boyfriends, you’ve been enthusiastic, but never this forward. Then again, past boyfriends never encouraged this type of behavior in you. With your last partner, the kinkiest things got was the time you hopped in on his morning shower. Not that you haven’t had good sex, because you have, but something about your time with Jungkook feels different.
Maybe it’s because of the way you started, but you feel completely comfortable telling him what turns you on. This is just about sex, so you might as well get what you want. Besides, you highly doubt there’s anything you could say he hasn’t heard before.
Hand curling around your waist, Jungkook pulls you closer to slip his finger backwards. Feeling how wet you are, his eyes darken, and he traces a slow circle around your throbbing cunt. Gently, he pushes inside you, then back out.
“Alright,” he agrees, never looking away. “You’re ready.”
“Keep going,” you whimper.
Jaw tense, Jungkook’s grip on you tightens as he moves his finger inside you; rougher, this time. Groaning his name, your eyes flutter shut, and you arch your chest forward. Accepting the invitation, Jungkook closes his lips over a nipple as his finger pumps in and out.
When you can’t take any more, you tug once on his hair “Alright,” you breathe, trying to steady yourself. “Okay.”
Lifting his head, Jungkook nods and leans back. Steadying yourself with his shoulder, you reach down to position his cock at your entrance. Sliding over him a few times, you get the tip of him wet – until Jungkook reaches down, pausing your hand.
“Hang on,” he says, reaching to open his drawer.
You frown, unsure what he wants until he pulls out a bottle of lube. Squirting this in one palm, Jungkook coats the outside of the condom and motions you forward.
“There,” he breathes, cock grazing your pussy.
Holding your breath, you sink down just enough to take the tip inside. The lube makes it so easy, his cock stretching your entrance as though it were nothing. Jungkook inhales, his grip tightening on your waist.
“What’s wrong?” you murmur, immediately stopping. A tortured look passes over his face and in response to this, you smile. “Miss my pussy that much, Jeon?”
Glancing upwards, he pauses and then his gaze heats. “You know I did,” Jungkook breathes. Grasping the back of your neck, he tilts your head back to lick, slowly up the curve of your throat. “Told you I’d fuck my hand in the shower and think about you.”
“I – I thought you were kidding,” you pant, trying to regain control.
Unwittingly, you sink down another inch. Jungkook groans, shifting his hips to slide in a little more. Teeth gritted, you pull off him entirely and Jungkook’s eyes widen.
“W-what’s wrong?” he pants in concern. “Why did you –”
When you drop, sheathing his whole cock inside you, his words flicker and die. 
A garbled noise escapes him as his cock goes from nothing to being surrounded by your hot, wet pussy. You can’t help but groan because, although you knew what to expect, the stretch is almost too much.
His cock practically splits you in two; a deep, throbbing ache which accompanies his presence. The pleasure borders on pain, rippling through your body and driving you closer. Jungkook’s hand slips down your back, cupping your ass to pull your hips forward.
You whimper when he gets even deeper, your legs eagerly spread over the expanse of his thighs. Despite your eagerness, you find you weren’t prepared. Going from nothing to something is one thing; going from nothing to Jungkook, who fills you in a way that makes you feel empty because you know he’ll eventually have to pull out again, is quite another.
Shifting again, his cock presses to your g-spot and you let out a whimper.
“Shhh.” Cupping the back of your neck with one hand, Jungkook slowly cants his hips upwards. His cock thrusts in deeper to hit a tender spot. “That’s it, Y/N. Just relax and feel me.”
He does this again, working himself deeper as you sink against his chest. You inhale, legs spread as he fucks you from below. It feels so, so good, but that’s not what you’re here for.
“My turn,” you whisper, changing the motion by rolling your hips.
Jungkook stills when you lift yourself upright and place your hands behind you. Holding onto his knees, you lift your body slowly to sink down on his cock. Rolling your hips again, you relish his intake of breath and repeat the action – once more, setting a steady motion as you fuck yourself with his cock.
Not looking away, you circle your hips to get his cock even deeper. Jungkook stares, his gaze roaming your bare chest and spread pussy before him. Reaching out, he thumbs over your swollen clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
“Oh,” you moan, head tipped backwards. “Yes – yes, right there, Jungkook.”
Your orgasm is building, begging you blindly to come again on his cock. Increasing your tempo, you fuck yourself harder, rougher against him. Chest bouncing, you slam your hips down to his. Still, it’s not enough and you make a noise of frustration.
“Jungkook,” you whine, eyes opening. “I need more.”
“More?” Suddenly, he sits upright. “I can do more, princess.”
Grasping your hips, Jungkook lifts you off his cock. You moan, protesting the loss of him but Jungkook merely chuckles, turning you around to face the windows.
“Knees together,” he instructs, holding you upright. One of his hands presses gently on your lower back. “Now, bend forward on the mattress.”
Breathing fast, you adopt the kneeling position he desires. Jungkook’s palm hovers at your neck, slipping slowly down your spine to end at your pussy. Briefly, he teases in a circle before pushing a finger inside your cunt.
“Oh,” you exhale, feeling how tight the fit is.
With your legs pressed together and bent forward, your folds touch in a way that feels wonderfully obscene. Arousal leaks from your entrance, smearing your thighs with evidence of your state. When he pulls your hips upwards to hover in mid-air, you’re certain Jungkook can see how wet he’s made you.
“God, you’re amazing,” he groans.
His fingers start to play with your weeping cunt, slipping inside you, then back out in leisurely strokes. Breasts aching against your thighs, you can feel your arousal settle deep in your gut. Two of Jungkook’s fingers slide in, curling upwards – and then he replaces them both with the tip of his cock.
Teasing you a bit more, Jungkook slips up and down before slowly pushing in. Eagerly, your pussy accepts the welcome intrusion.
“Oh my god,” you groan, cheek pressed to the mattress.
Lazily, he pulls his cock out, then pushes back in. Jungkook does this again and again, until you think you might come from orgasm denial alone. Everything feels oversensitive, forcing your clit to throb each time he ignores it.
“Jungkook, please,” you moan.
“What was that?” A sharp smack on your ass follows. “Begging? What for, baby?”
Too needy to care about how desperate you seem, you try and push your hips back. Jungkook soothes the aching point, then smacks your ass again.
“Fuck,” you whimper. Although you buck your hips backwards, Jungkook holds you in place. “Please, Jungkook.”
“Please what, baby? Use your words.”
There’s smug triumph to his voice, but you find you don’t care.
“Fuck me,” you gasp, barely sounding like yourself. “Fuck me so hard, Jungkook, I can’t walk tomorrow.”
“That so?” he muses.
Pulling out to the tip – he roughly slams his cock in. You cry out, thrust forward as satisfaction rolls through you. Jungkook begins hammering your insides, each hard, fast plunge of his cock stroking something deeper.
“Yes. Yes! Yes!” you gasp, thrusting your hips backwards to meet his pace.
“This hard enough for you, princess?”
Panting slightly, Jungkook’s hand finds your throat. Just enough for you to know who he is and what he’s capable of doing. When you glance upwards and see your reflection in the window opposite, you nearly cum on the spot.
Chest lifted, your breasts bounce with each thrust of his cock. Jaw clenched, Jungkook is completely in control while fucking you from behind. Although your lower half mostly covers his – damn, what a view. You aren’t normally the type who enjoys seeing themselves naked, but you can’t deny there’s something hot about this.
Knelt with both knees tucked beneath you, ass in the air, Jungkook hammers into you with barely restrained need. 
Still, you wonder if he can go harder. Get deeper.
“Is that it?” you moan, your insides rippling with pleasure. Another few strokes and you’ll come. “You can go harder if you want,” you pant. “I can take it. I want you to use me, Jungkook. Make a mess of my pussy.”
He hisses a noise through his teeth which sounds like your name. Somehow, Jungkook goes even harder, and you’re left kneeling, merciless against the sudden onslaught of pleasure. Jungkook fucks you without restraint, balls slapping your clit with each stroke. The tightening sensation inside you gets stronger – and on a particularly deep stroke, you shudder apart.
“Fuck!” you cry out, back arching when you come.
Shuddering waves wreck your body, your walls squeezing around Jungkook – who keeps fucking you through it. Not changing his rhythm, his hips slam, hard and fast, into the meat of your ass. Barely have you finished your second orgasm when a third one is dawning. This one feels more powerful, more dangerous and Jungkook angles suddenly upwards to hit your elusive g-spot.
Gasping, your fists clench in the sheets as he pounds this spot inside you. He might end you, you think, nearly broken with pleasure. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the heavy weight of his cock relentlessly filling you.
Lifting your hips higher, Jungkook gets even deeper, grinding his hips against yours. “This one,” he says, rough in your ear. “After this orgasm, Y/N, this pussy is mine,” he growls. “Understand?”
“Yes!” you cry out, gripping the sheets even harder as he fucks you senseless.
“Tell me,” he demands.
Body trembling, you gasp, “Yours, Jungkook! It’s all yours!”
When you come, dissolving into dark, senseless waves, Jungkook is right behind you. He shudders into the condom, rope after rope of hot cum spurting out. You feel him completely fill you and briefly, you wish there weren’t a condom in place. It would be so hot to have him play with his mess right after fucking you.
The fantasy lingers for a moment before, inhaling slowly, you open your eyes. Gently, Jungkook pulls out, removing his condom and tossing this in the garbage. After another long breath, you managed to lift yourself into a seated position.
“Fuck,” you say with a half-sigh, half-laugh. “That was really good.”
Hiding a smile, Jungkook ruffles his hair. “You were great, too, Y/N. Tightest pussy ever. So wet, I almost came so fast,” he says in a robotic tone that makes your smile disappear.
It’s nearly word for word what you instructed him to say last time and – grabbing a pillow – you lob this in his direction. Laughing at your expression, Jungkook ducks this easily.
“You ass,” you snort, throwing a second pillow he dodges as well. “Maybe next time you’ll think up some compliments on your own.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, smile widening as he stands.
Walking to the window, the muscles in his back flex and dip as he goes. You try not to stare at his ass, but it’s hard with those powerful quad muscles rippling beneath him. Coming to a stop at the window, Jungkook surveys the skyline.
“You should really shut those,” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
“Shut what?”
“The curtains.”
Jungkook remains standing, displaying his body in the full-frontal nude. “Why?”
Glancing down, you find your underwear lying on the floor. Picking it up, you grimace. “Because. Why do you want your neighbors knowing your business?”
Looking over his shoulder, Jungkook shrugs. “Who’s going to see?” When he gestures at the empty skyline, you’re forced to admit he has a point. “Also, I pay a ridiculous amount of money for this view. I’m going to look at it.”
“You pay?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Jungkook mutters, returning to the horizon.
You pause, wondering what he means by this remark, but decide against prying further. You two have your deal, after all – no personal talk. Grabbing your dress from the floor, you pause at his bathroom to look over your shoulder.
“Jungkook…” You hesitates.
He turns around. “Yeah?”
“Could I…” Again, you pause, unsure if you’re overstepping. “Could I borrow a shirt and some sweats?”
Jungkook goes still, his expression unreadable.
“Just to go home in,” you clarify before he can answer. “It’s just, uh… uncomfortable to put all this back on.”
Glancing at your dress, understanding dawns on his face and he nods. “Yeah, of course,” Jungkook says, immediately crossing the room. Rummaging around in his dresser, he pulls out some clothes. “Here you go.”
Reaching out, you accept the grey sweats and white t-shirt he hands you. “Thanks,” you say quickly, disappearing into the bathroom.
Once inside, you shut the door fast to lean against it. Last time you were here, you were so focused on leaving, you didn’t stop to appreciate the luxury around you. Jungkook’s bathroom is larger than your entire bedroom at home.
Taking a careful step forward, you notice one of those rain showers which spray water from every direction. Beyond this, a sunken tub lowers before another row of floor-to-ceiling windows. This high up, Jungkook has no neighbors, but you still don’t think you’d enjoy bathing there.
Entering the toilet, you set your clothes on the floor and do your business. Once dressed, you exit and glance at yourself in the mirror. Somewhat surprisingly, you find you look better; more relaxed than before. Apparently, this is what great sex can do for a person.
After washing your hands, you open the door and find a mostly clothed Jungkook. Stifling your disappointment at the sight of him in a t-shirt, you exit the bathroom with your clothes balled up in your fist.
Grabbing your purse, you turn to find Jungkook holding out a pair of slides. 
“They’re Velcro,” he says, undoing the strap to show. “They’ll fit your feet better. I figured you wouldn’t want to go home in sweats and heels.”
Glancing down at his clothes on your body, you realize he’s right and look up. It’s surprising the thought occurred to him first.
“Thanks,” you say, accepting the sandals. “I’ll wash all your stuff and return it, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.” A brow lifts. “But now I kind of am.”
Rolling your eyes, you walk past him. The hall from his bedroom to the kitchen feels almost familiar, smelling of cleaning product, and beneath that, the faintest hint of cologne. In the kitchen, you pause to look at his windows again – it’s a shame Jungkook isn’t around to see this view more often – and your stomach releases an embarrassing gurgle.
“Was that your stomach?”
Nearly groaning out loud, you realize Jungkook has followed you here.
“Uh, yeah.” You turn slowly to face him. “I didn’t really eat dinner at the restaurant. I’ll just grab something on my way home.”
Shrugging, Jungkook walks past you and into the kitchen. “You can just have something here, if you want.”
“Here?” You glance at him, surprised.
“Sure, why not?”
He comes to a stop at his fridge, pulling open the handles of a giant, silver appliance. Once the doors are open, you peer inside and feel your lips twitch.
“Oh, wow.” Scanning the mostly barren shelves, you lift a brow. “So… you’re offering me a protein shake or banana milk?”
“No. I’m offering a protein shake and banana milk.”
Stifling a laugh, you watch him shut the door.
Somewhat sheepish, Jungkook turns to face you. “Okay, so apparently I’m not a great cook,” he admits.
“Cook?” you say, hiding a grin. “Jeon, you don’t even have bread. Or mac and cheese. Things any drunk college student would know how to make.”
At this, his face brightens. “Wait – I think I have pop-tarts!” Turning around, he opens the nearest cabinet and slowly deflates. “Never mind. Ate them all. Uh, we could order a pizza?”
When he looks your way, you hesitate and know you should probably say no. That would be the most prudent course of action since it would solidify your rule of keeping personal lives separate. Except – you’re really fucking hungry.
“Alright, fine,” you say, seating yourself on his bar stool. “Pizza sounds good.”
It’s not like either of you are in danger of wanting something more, you tell yourself. Jungkook doesn’t date, you don’t want to date him – none of that has changed, so there’s no harm in hanging out.
Opening his phone, Jungkook’s brows knit together. He leans one hip to the counter, sweats hanging from his frame with a casual grace. It’s kind of annoying how good he looks, even while performing mundane tasks like ordering pizza.
“There’s this place I went to with Taehyung,” Jungkook mutters, stopping the screen with his thumb. “It was pretty good, and I think they deliver. What do you want?”
“Ugh,” you say, tucking your feet underneath you. “I hate that question. I’ll eat pretty much anything.”
“Anything?” Jungkook glances up. “Even… anchovy and cream cheese?”
Lips parting, you stare at him, appalled. “Are you kidding? Is that really an option?”
Flipping his phone around, Jungkook lets you read the screen with barely repressed glee.
“I thought you said this place was good, Jeon.” Grimacing, you sit back. “Or is this one of those weird, rich people things? The Taehyung you mentioned is Kim Taehyung, right?”
Jungkook nods and dimly, you recall the two of them being friends. Ironically, there are several wealthy Kim families within your circle.
There’s Seokjin, whose family has their hands in just about every banking institution of national value. Taehyung’s family is what you would call new money. If this were the Great Gatsby, he’d be in West Egg and Seokjin would be in East. A bio-tech heir from the west coast, Taehyung may not be as scandalous as Jungkook, but he still makes enough headlines for you to take notice.
“Yeah, that’s the right Taehyung,” Jungkook confirms. “And I only offered that pizza because you said anything. Don’t worry, they have normal pizza, too. Me, I’m a solid cheese type of guy… maybe pepperoni, if you’re feeling wild.”
“Oo, pepperoni.” Your stomach gurgles again. “Let’s do that.”
“Sold.” Jungkook clicks a few more times, then looks up. “Okay, we’re good.”
“Awesome.” Relaxing on his barstool, you swivel to face his apartment. “So. What do you normally do for fun?”
“For fun?”
When you glance sideways, you find Jungkook’s brow furrowed. For a moment, your stomach sinks and you wonder if you’ll get a similar response to Eric. Nothing except work, party, sleep, and repeat. The thought is oddly disappointing, for reasons you can’t begin to fathom.
Jungkook makes a humming noise in his throat. “I like lots of things, I guess. Gaming with my friends… travel… movies…” Trailing off, he shrugs.
“What was the last movie you watched?”
“Ever After.” His lips quirk, unapologetic. “It’s romantic.”
An emotion flutters to life that takes a moment to squash. He’s a player, you remind yourself. Jungkook probably watches romcoms to take notes on what to say to get women into bed. 
Something about this statement rings untrue in your mind, but you push on regardless.
“And travel?” you add, arching a brow. “What’s your favorite place you’ve been to so far?”
“Hm. I don’t know, I’ve been to a lot of places that I–”
“Not the yacht in the Mediterranean?”
At this, Jungkook pauses and glances at you with surprise – surprise, which slowly shifts into something different. “Y/N.” Voice lowering, he leans forward. “Have you been reading up on me?”
Panic coursing through your veins, you feel your face heat. 
You aren’t sure why you said what you did, but something about the moment made you want to create distance. It’s easier to stay separate when you know who he is. When he’s only Jungkook, seducer of hotel heiresses on fancy yachts in exotic places.
Having casual sex with someone from your parents’ world is one thing – you have zero desire to date another rich, spoiled heir. Having casual sex with a closeted sommelier who watches Ever After for fun, though… well, that might be different.
“I mean, your life is hardly a secret, Jeon,” you manage to say.
“Maybe not, but yours is.” He lifts a brow. “Can I just say that rule number one doesn’t seem fair when you can easily search my whole life on the internet.”
“And you can’t mine?” 
“I mean, I can look up your family, sure,” Jungkook says with a frown. “But when it comes to you being half-naked on a yacht – nothing.”
“That’s because I’ve never been half-naked on a yacht, Jungkook.”
“Really?” He pauses, considering. “We should fix that.”
“Okay, now we’re getting off topic.” Shaking your head, you attempt to reroute to the point. “I’m just saying, it’s a small wonder you enjoy traveling when you’re sunning yourself on a speedboat.”
Jungkook pauses. “Would it be better for my image if I said I backpacked an entire year after college? Carried around nothing but my phone, some spare clothes, and a duct tape wallet. Nearly got robbed a few times, but it was worth it.”
You stare at him for a moment, trying to ascertain whether or not he’s serious.
“No way,” you say, stifling a laugh. “There’s no way your parents would’ve let you go on a backpacking trip. You’re the ‘Jeon family heir!’” you say, adding quotes.
His expression sobers. “It was my mom who suggested it, actually,” Jungkook admits. “She thought… well, she thought I could do with a bit of reality.”
He falls silent for a moment, and you have no response. 
It occurs to you then that you could look it up. You could easily verify his post-college exploits against the Jeon Wikipedia entry but for whatever reason, you don’t. Call it misguided, but somehow, you trust him – and even if you didn’t, the look on Jungkook’s face now is enough to make you believe what he says.
“That’s nice,” you say softly, and he looks at you in surprise.
“What’s… nice?”
Aimless, you shrug and look down. “Nice that you had someone who cared enough about you to suggest it.”
Jungkook doesn’t speak and after a while, you feel compelled to look up. He’s staring at you, expression startlingly open, and you get the oddest sensation this is his first time fully seeing you. For that matter, it might be your first time seeing him.
Before either of you can respond, his phone rings on the counter. Blinking, Jungkook reaches out to press answer.
“Hello?” he asks, placing this to his ear.
Releasing a soft breath, you swivel around to glance at his living room. Facing away, your head spins a little and you aren’t entirely sure why. In the background, Jungkook continues to speak on the phone.
“Yeah, I ordered that,” he confirms to the caller. “You can send them on up.”
Hanging up the phone, he glances carefully at you, and you wonder if Jungkook is feeling the same sense of vertigo.
“That was the pizza?” you ask, hopping down from the stool.
Jungkook confirms with a nod.
“Cool,” you say, inching around his sofa. “Where do you normally eat? Dining room or kitchen?”
“Well…” Jungkook hesitates, looking sheepish.
“What is it?”
“I… was kind of planning on watching the new Ted Lasso episode.” Awkward, he rubs the back of his neck. “We don’t have to, but if you want…?”
Startled, you blink. Ted Lasso is one of your favorite shows, but you hadn’t pegged Jungkook as a watcher. You suppose his love of Ever After should have clued you in on the potential.
“It’s okay,” Jungkook says quickly when you don’t respond. “I can watch it later. Let’s –”
“No,” you interrupt, clearing your throat. “No, let’s do it. My Apple TV just expired, so this is perfect. I can only stay for one episode, though,” you say, seating yourself on his couch. “My friend is watching my dog, but I need to be home by midnight to take Dante out.”
“Dante.” Jungkook pauses. “Like, the writer?”
“No, like the weird dog from Coco.”
Unexpectedly, his face splits in a grin. “I love that movie.”
“Right?” you gush, not having expected to find kinship in something so strange. “One of the best movies Disney has made, bar none.”
“Agreed,” Jungkook says as he walks towards the door.
The elevator dings, opening to reveal the pizza delivery guy, and you wait while Jungkook exchanges greetings for food.
Placing his Velcro slides on the floor – you’ve been holding them since his bedroom – you carefully tuck both legs under yourself. Glancing across the room, you watch Jungkook make a joke as the pizza guy laughs.
You don’t know why you’re here. 
Well, you know why you’re here. You were the one who called him and took him up on his offer of sex a second time. What you don’t know is why you’re still here.
The pizza guy exits, Jungkook turns around and re-enters the kitchen. Returning to the TV, you pick up the remote and flick through Apple TV to locate Ted Lasso. It feels too intimate to watch Jungkook get plates, preparing slices of pizza for you to put in your mouth. If you don’t see it, if you pretend everything between you is casual, then it will be – right?
Ignoring this question, you sink deeper into the sofa as Jungkook returns. When you accept your plate, you can’t help but laugh because Jungkook’s dishes are what can only be described as wedding china.
“These are your plates?” you ask, speaking around a mouthful of warm, gooey cheese from the slice you inhale.
“I told you I’m not here often,” he insists, collapsing beside you. Close enough to feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch. “Honestly, this is one of my first times using them.”
“What do you do for breakfast, then?”
He shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, you saw the protein shakes.”
For some reason, this image strikes you as sad. The thought of Jungkook rising, grabbing a protein shake and leaving, only to return late at night and collapse on his bed. Eat, sleep, repeat. You pause, unsure how to respond and in your silence, Jungkook picks up the remote.
“Hope they have Roy as a commentator again this episode,” he says, pointing the controller at the screen and you immediately exhale.
Sinking into the sofa, you watch as the opening credits to Ted Lasso play. After several moments, you sneak a sideways glance and find Jungkook facing forward.
Several unnamed emotions dart through your chest, one after the other. Silently, you crush each one and, when you return to the screen, you repeat your rules in your head.
Eventually though, the episode drowns them all out.
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Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) I do not have a tag list, so please do not ask to be added or ask about updates. My writing progress can be found on my updates schedule, linked in both my header and FAQ!
[ Series Master List ] - link to be updated soon
© kpopfanfictrash, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.
1K notes · View notes
moonchild1 · 19 days ago
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅲ)
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here's a list of my favourite jungkook fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed ♡
a- angst s- smut f- fluff ❣- ultimate favourite
trust issues by @7deadlysinsfics f s (drummer jk bar au strangers to lovers au) ❣
The painter by @7deadlysinsfics s a (strangers to lovers au painter jk dom jk)
heartbreak anniversary by @pbandjk f a (exes au dad jk)
heartbreak anniversary 2 by @pbandjk
Making Him Jealous by @parkmuse s (roommate au threesome) ft. Jimin ❣
Zipper by @parkmuse s (best friends au they watch porn together) ❣
The golden boy by @luxekook s (enemies to lovers au) ❣
stay in your lane by @luxekook f s (enemies to lovers au college au) ❣
queen of broken hearts by @bratkook s a (one sided love jk's in love but oc isn't) ❣
Concrete king by @bratkook f s (summer romance)
clairvoyant by @bratkook f s a (shy roommate jungkook college au) ft. Fuck boy Taehyung
merry go round by @lolabangtan s a (infidelity/cheating au) ft. Taehyung
netflix & chill series by @1kook s a ❣
A hero's journey by @hansolmates f s a (best friends boyfriend au pinning au) ❣
superdad by @jimidol f s (dilf jk established relationship au parent au) ❣
two rotten apples by @chickenkooks s a (neighbours who hate each other enemies to lovers au) ❣
not a date by @bubmyg f (enemies to lovers au college au)
spring will come again by @baepsaesbae f s a (virgin jk) ❣
How to Make Him Cum 101 by @mimithings97 f s a (college au)
order up by @ressjeon s (restaurant au strangers to lovers au) ❣
tutor me by @hisunshiine f s (college au student jk tutor reader) ❣
backstage by @hisunshiine s (idol au sowoozoo jungkook 😉) ❣
platinum panther by @arcticmarshmallow f s a (dilf jk spoiled bratty reader) ❣
Daunting by @soobsfae s (yandere stalking milf reader son's best friend jk) ❣
through the night by @nightbts f a (idol au friends to lovers au stylist reader) ❣
I'm kinda into you by @intokook f (fuck boy jk friends to lovers au high school au)
extra credit by @jeonsjiddies s (professor reader student jk)
in between by @luffles424 s (college au twin au) ❣
somewhere only we know by @qersona s a (hybrid au college au) ❣
Golden by @kingsuckjin​ f s a (friends to lovers ex jin cheating au but its sorta sad yandere au) ft. Cheating BF Seokjin ❣
A new what? by @xiaokoo s (boyfriend jk)
first and last by @kookiesjoonies s (friends to lovers au)
once you realize by @kooala f (friends to lovers au)
the best thing he never had by @rosaetae a (friends to lovers au) ❣
The truce by @thebangtantale (enemies to lovers au fake dating au)
Oh brother by @kookdiaries s (brother's best friend au college au) ❣
today's special is... by @dntaewithluv f s (boyfriend jk)
why we broke up by @jjeongukkie a (social media au) ❣
Finding forever by @kookiejoonie f s a (cheating depression violence) ft. Ex husband Yoongi ❣
Cockblocked by @mercurygguk f s a (roommate au friends/idiots to lovers au)
s is for sexy by @kpopfanfictrash f
forsythia by @aechana f s a (band au friends to lovers au slow burn) ❣
learning the hard way by @littlemisskookie f s (noona reader dom jk)
IDLYGF by @taniie (best friends to lovers au teen drama) ❣
Night Changes by @neonlights92 s a (fuck boy jk college au rom com enemies to lovers au) ❣
pen pals (with benefits) by @bangtanhome f s a (enemies to lovers au friends with benefits to lovers au college au) ❣
bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy f s (established relationship au) ❣
candy cane ache by @monvante f s a (enemies to lovers au fake dating au based on the movie the proposal) ❣
friends, lovers or nothing by @pazzarovisky f s a (best friends to lovers? au) ❣
day by day by @hansolmates f s a (dilf jk idiots to lovers/best friend to lovers au) ❣
2K notes · View notes
jjkthclub · 26 days ago
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The Maid of Honor Misadventures
Pairing: Jungkook / You Genre: one shot, one night stand!au, wedding!au Rating: M Warnings: fingering, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, breathplay, finger sucking, thigh riding, face sitting, multiple orgasms Word count: 16.5k Summary: After meeting a handsome guy at a bar, you two hit it off quickly and have a one-night stand. After that, you expected to never see him again—well, that was until two days later and your best friend introduces you to someone at dinner.
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Marriage is a huge commitment. It’s an important decision that requires a lot of thinking. Deciding to get married means that you will have to permanently stick with your answer. It means that you have thought of everything that would follow afterwards and that you’re ready to begin a new chapter of your book with the one who makes you feel like you can conquer anything because they are not above you or below you—they are beside you.
You’ve always thought of marriage as a scary thing, something that’s out of your reach. While you are not getting any younger, you feel like you’re still not ready for such a big leap. But then again, is anyone ever ready for it?
Anyways, let’s not get sidetracked. Let’s focus on the reason as to why you’re here at a bar. You’re here tonight because your best friend called. You’re here to listen as she opens up about what happened with her and her fiancé, Jimin.
“And then we had this argument. I said something about his parents not liking me because I’m not the one they wanted him to marry in the first place and he said that it’s not true. He said that he wouldn’t even care if he gets stripped off from the inheritance because all he wants is to get married to me. And then it just went on and on until he said that if I think we’re doing this more for our parents than for us, then we should just call the wedding off.”
Blinking, you observe how Yuna’s eyebrows crease as she recounts bits of it, obvious that this fight affected her, pinched bits of her heart that’s filled with excitement over her upcoming wedding—well, what was supposed to be her upcoming big day.
“I just wanted everyone to get along,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know, I think this has something to do with my guilt because Jimin defied his parents the moment he started dating me. And because I’ll never pass his parents’ standards.”
“Look,” you start. “Your parents aren’t the ones that’s going to get married here—it’s you and Jimin. And to be honest, if they both love you, then they’re going to have to accept the fact that you love each other and that you want to spend the rest of your lives together.”
She listens and ingests your words, eventually nodding. “You’re right,” she says, wiping the corner of her wet eyes. “And Jimin is right. I shouldn’t have stressed about our parents too much and let it get into my head.”
“Let me ask you a question. Do you love Jimin?”
“Of course.”
“Do you still want to marry him?”
She smiles. “I do.”
“There you go. That’s your answer,” you tell her, snapping your fingers before taking a swig of your wine.
Yuna smiles narrowly in relief and nods with more confidence. She brings out her phone and scrolls for a few moments before her gasp startles you. She huffs, a frown taking over her features. “Great. So he went to his parents’ party.”
You wrinkle your brows. “And that’s bad because?”
“Y/N, this is the party that he didn’t want to attend because he knows that his parents would try to match him up again.”
“What? Okay, you are overthinking this way too much. That doesn’t mean he’s—” you argue, wanting to implore her to just call Jimin, wanting to proclaim that just because he went there doesn’t mean he would actually entertain it because for God’s sake, he’s engaged to the love of his life.
Yuna cuts you off when she pushes herself off from her seat. Out of the blue, she removes her engagement ring and places it on the counter. She’s grabbing her small purse, telling you that she has to go. Handing her the keys to your apartment, you ensure her that she can spend the night, telling her that you’ll catch up with her later because you want to stay here for a bit.
Now alone in this open bar, with nothing but a glass of wine in your hand, you begin to muse about Yuna and her problem.
She’s one of the most important people in your life and you’ve seen how happy she became when she started dating Jimin. They had only been dating for over ten months when she said yes to him. You thought of it as fast but she told you that she was sure of him so you trusted her and respected that. That’s really their story to tell, not yours. And to be honest, if you think about it, the number of couples who’ve been married for over thirty years but dated for only a few months is now growing. So really, it just depends on the couple and what works for them.
There’s five days left before the wedding and unfortunately, this hurdle presented itself. It doesn’t have to end easily like this. What, so they’re just choosing not to jump past this obstacle and let it trample over them? No, they can’t just toss it all out of the window like that.
You drop your gaze on the ring resting on the counter, fingers immediately holding onto it. Eyes ghosting on the delicate item, you slip it on your own finger slowly. At the moment, you’re not sure if it suits you though. It feels—
“Mmmh.”
You’re suddenly startled when a couple starts making out lewdly. The girl is suddenly being slammed on the chair beside you while her boyfriend’s hand skims on the back of her thigh. He lifts her leg up, exposing her underwear. Hopping off your seat, you choose to go further down the end. For a few minutes, you sit by yourself, drinking more wine and just staring at Yuna’s ring.
Eventually, someone occupies the seat to your right. The guy lifts his finger up for a drink, dropping a couple of bills on the counter.
“I can’t believe we’re getting a live show here.”
You look at the owner of the voice who just made an accurate remark. When you take a quick scale at him, you see that his jaw is defined, his skin honey and his features chiselled and manly. Wearing a striped shirt underneath a dark blue blazer, he couples it with ripped denim jeans that hugs the definition of his thighs.
Emphatically, you are agreeing with a soft laugh. “Right?”
The stranger smiles lightly as he flits his eyes on his drink handed to him by the broad-shouldered bartender and then at you for the first time. Feeling your cheeks heat up at the painfully attractive sight, you decide to take a peek of the obscene couple to the left to see if they’re still there. Unfortunately, they still are. Torridly kissing and grinding passionately into one another.
You turn back to him and offer a suggestion. “Do you wanna go and sit somewhere else?”
The guy nods and you both make your way to a quieter, more private area in the bar, sitting in one of the empty booths. Once you’re both comfortable in your seats, he clears his throat and decides to finally start a conversation. “So. What are you drinking to?”
It’s a good question. In an attempt to mull over everything that happened tonight, you find that you’re overwhelmed with a lot of different things, mind muddled. In the end, you just say the first thing that comes to mind. “To love.”
He arches his right eyebrow up, intrigued. It’s then that you start to notice how he has piercings on his brow, along with both of his ears.
“I’m about to save the day and make two people see how much they love each other,” is what you add. This is it. This will be your mission. You’ll save the couple and make the wedding happen—simple as that.
The dark-haired man blinks before he offers his honest comment. “That’s quite… heavy. And a lot of responsibility.”
A smile crossing your features, you shrug. “Well, with great power comes with great responsibility.”
Amused, he quirks a brow up and he gnaws on his bottom lip as though to stop a smirk. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re secretly a superhero?”
“And if I am?”
“Ah, see, you shouldn’t say that. That’s dangerous because you don’t know who you’re talking to. You don’t know if they could be a fellow superhero or a villain,” he explains, playing along.
You take a sip of your wine as if to give you a push to say your next words because his stare on you alone is weakening your resolve. If you are a hero then it’s safe to say that his eyes are your kryptonite. “Sounds like something a villain would say.”
The guy laughs. “Touché.”
You join him, chanting your cheers as you raise your glasses up and bump them together. When the hilarity ebbs down, you waste no time to deflect the question back. “What about you? What are you drinking to?”
“To taking control.”
You cock your head sideways, surprised at his revelation. It’s interesting to hear this because from the get go he looked like someone whose middle name is control. From the way he is dressed and the way he carries himself with poise, he seemed like the type to lead, the type to give out orders.
“From now on, I’m taking control of my own life and I’m going to do what makes me happy,” he states resolutely, smiling in a way that emanates warmth.
“Good for you,” you tell him before doing another round of cheers and chugging the remainder of your drinks.
He scoots closer to your side, pinky finger bumping yours faintly. It’s the tiniest bit of flesh-to-flesh contact and yet the spark that shot through your nerves and the tingles that went down to your spine was palpable and unfathomably exhilarating because this might just be the most interesting and gripping conversation you’ve had with a stranger.
Just as you’re about to bask in the moment you two are having, he—much to your surprise—stops. The second his eyes discover the piece of round jewellery on your fourth finger, he hesitates. Slowly, his palm slides away silently to retract as he clamps his lips together as though he pieced something together in his head.
Wide-eyed as you caught the exact scene, you chuckle to paint some casual nonchalance and to lighten the sudden starkness of the situation. “Oh, this,” you acknowledge, closing your fist and raising it up to your chest, your other hand caressing the ring. “It’s not mine. Seriously. I’m not engaged or married or anything.”
“I wouldn’t care if you are anyways.”
Stunned, is the only word to describe you. With lips parted, the rhythm of your blinking is stuttered upon his revelation.
He cracks after a few seconds, exhaling with a soft smile. “Relax, I’m just kidding. I’m not that kind of guy.” He tilts his head as he glosses over you. “I find it somewhat hard to believe, though.”
“You find what hard to believe?”
“That you’re single.”
A scoff escapes your nose.
“Seriously, have you seen you?” he says, expressions dripping with confidence. “You’re hot. How are you still not taken?”
“You’re one smooth talker, aren’t you?”
“Did it do anything for you?” He rests his chin on his palm as he keeps his gaze fixated on you like a magnet, eager to hear your comebacks.
Sucking your breath in, you make sure to keep that eye contact intense and strong between you. Right now, his stare is boring holes through your skull. They are fierce, fast, impatient and sexy. Meant for a quiet, intimate space. Meant for the bedroom.
When you lean closer, you let him know that your eyes are equally harboring the same lusty feelings. You hum and lower your voice, almost whispering it to his face, letting your hot breath fan the tip of his nose. “Maybe you should try harder and not use flattery.”
His self-control is impeccably sturdy, his stare on your eyes and lips unbreakable and determined as though he’s up to do anything you want, up for any challenge and offer you give him. “Well. Then you’ll be glad to know that my mouth can do a lot more things other than come up with smooth talk. You up for it?”
Controlling your breathing, you flash a frisky smile. “Depends on what those things are.”
“I’m sorry, I just realized that I don’t even know your name.” He shakes his head once you’re face to face, feeling ridiculous at his first, obvious mistake. “What’s your name?”
“Do you have to know my name?” you challenge.
“It’s not imperative but for my own selfish reasons, then yes.”
There’s a teasing lilt to your hum.
Arching a brow up, he asks, “What are you thinking?”
“No names for tonight,” is your proposition, punching out the words breathily. Let’s be real—you’re horny and he’s hot. You’d be damned if you said that you didn’t want to get laid with him tonight.
His tongue swirls on his bottom lip before biting it down, a small dimple appearing on his cheek. “Okay. How about aliases?”
“Just like superheroes?”
He grins. “Just like superheroes.”
“Would Supergirl be too cliché?”
“She your favorite?”
“Wanda,” you reveal.
“Nice. I’m actually excited to watch the show when it comes out,” he says, his smile reaching his eyes first.
“Same.”
“You could be Scarlet then.”
“And you’re Vision?”
“Nah. Just call me JK,” he offers.
You repeat the two letters, nodding.
“Your place or mine?”
“Yours,” you say, bringing your phone out, keying a quick message to Yuna before slipping the ring off your finger and placing it inside your pocket.
JK holds his palm out. “Shall we?”
“Yeah. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
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Pressed up against his bedroom door, he crushes his lips on yours, tongues melting into each other and teeth tugging on lips. The make-out session has you intoxicated, heating up your skin and putting your senses into overdrive. Fingers threading through his locks, he nips on the skin just below your jawline, tumbling out a gasp from your lips, his tongue doing the work to smooth the area before he finds a sensitive spot on the side of your neck, leaving it with an open-mouthed kiss before releasing it with a juicy pop.
When he yanks up your shirt, he takes a sharp inhale. “You’re so fucking hot,” he rasps, taking off his blazer jacket, hurling it to the side.
You hold the hem of his shirt and pull it up, greeted by his fit and broad figure and the artwork that decorates his right sleeve in turn. Gawking at his body, you run the tips of your fingers through his abs and pecs before tracing the outline of his lips. “You’re really hot, too,” you tell him, the hotness of your breath bathing his skin.
The pad of your finger runs lazy circles on his swollen bottom lip and you make sure to look right into his eyes with a lusty smirk before you cup his face, pulling him in again for another needy kiss, your tongues swirling with each other, sending a direct shot of arousal down to your core.
Your fingers rake through his locks while your lips pepper his shoulder blade and neck with your ravenous kisses. It doesn’t take long before your hands are on his body, his hips, stomach and v-line, stroking every edge and area. When you end up cupping the dent in his pants, a satisfied groan emits his throat. On your palm, he feels huge and hard and you release a whiny moan while his chest heaves.
His fingers find the button of your jeans and you pull back to assist him, quickly shimmying down until you’re left in your underwear. Keeping his eyes on yours, his hand starts to slide down, groping your heat over the soaked fabric. Your head automatically rears back, sighing at his touch. His smirk widens as his fingers slip underneath your underwear. He motions up and down on your sticky folds, flicking your clit before he takes his hand out and slides the fabric of your panties to the side.
Finally, his index finger thrusts into you slowly and deeply like he has all the time in the world. Emitting dulcet sighs, you shift your hips forwards to meet his thrust, desperate to feel his fingers. He curls his digit inside, hitting your walls while you pant. Taking your lips again, he adds another finger, pushing into you until you’re bucking your hips and moaning against his mouth.
He keeps this up, fingers curving, repeatedly thrusting in a pace that has your thigh muscles tightening and your feet tiptoeing before he slows down and eventually withdraws so he can suck on them, watching you watch him taste every bit of your essence. The action is so erotic and sensual that you lunge forward to share your breaths with him again while tasting yourself on his tongue.
Chests flushed together, he hoists you up, hooking your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bed, never disconnecting his lips on yours. You’re dropped on the mattress softly and you scoot upwards immediately, head lying on the pillow as you begin to unclasp your bra while he works on pulling your panties down your legs.
“Fuck. Look at you,” he growls. “So fucking pretty.” Climbing up to open your mouth, his hands busy themselves in squeezing the flesh of your nipples. The kiss you share is sultrier and filthier, dominated by your tongues, teeth and saliva.
He makes his way down to your breasts, his hot mouth enveloping your nipple while his hand massages the other breast, fingers toying on the bud. He sucks and licks until it’s nice and perky, switching to the other and giving it the same treatment. Pleasured sighs leak out your lips, eyes rolling at the back of your head, your fingers lacing on his hair.
He sits up, standing on the edge of the bed to pull his pants and underwear down. His huge and thick cock stands erect and he wraps a hand around it to give it a few pumps. His thumb gives his head the occasional flick to spread his pre-cum before hovering on top of you again to take on your breasts. He makes sure to look up at you every time, watching how beautiful you look when you’re purring your moans, the sight getting him harder as he pictures how you’d look and sound like when you’re so fucked out.
His solid hands grab your thighs, spreading them wide as he finally snakes down to your core, all full of your slick. You breathe raggedly, watching him in anticipation as he inches forward, tongue slurping up a bold stripe of your folds before it lays flat on your pussy.
He laps on your clit and your gasps are broken, begging him to not stop as you lay a hand on your breast, giving it a squeeze while grinding your core on his mouth. His own groans vibrate on your skin as he eats you out and buries his tongue inside your cunt, consistently switching with taking it whole and licking on your swollen clit.
“You taste really good,” he says, tongue running over his wet lips. As much as he’d like to see you fall apart on his mouth, right now, all he wants is to be inside you. He needs to feel your warm and wet pussy around him, wants to see you come around his cock while he’s deep inside you.
Whining at the loss, he snatches your legs, folding them in half. Kneeling with his back straight up, he lines the head in your entrance, moving it against your slit, coating himself with your arousal. You release a drawled moan and his eyes darkens before pushing into you.
The stretch is delicious, with him easily gliding in from how wet you are. A gasp escapes your chest and he’s only halfway in. Relaxing your walls to adjust to him, he sinks further until he bottoms out a few moments later, your pussy wrapped around his cock.
Releasing a joint pleasurable groan, he starts with slow, consistent thrusts, holding your knees to keep your legs up in that position. He’s testing the waters with his pace. It feels good and you appreciate it and him for being a gentleman but right now you need him to move. You need him to fuck you hard, fast and senseless. You want to be left mind-blown so you tell him that he doesn’t need to be gentle with you.
With your words, the glint in his eyes shifts and he begins to move, rocking into you rapidly. He grunts lowly at your tightness while burying his cock deeper, assaulting your walls. The sound of skin slapping skin has you screaming and he buckles his hips, keeping a steady and fast rhythm in fucking you.
He moans unabashedly, voice gruff as he gets entranced from his own pleasure, relishing in the way your pussy keeps on swallowing him in with every push as though it’s made for his cock only. He cups and squeezes your bouncing tits as he smacks himself into you. His palm skims through your stomach, making its way up as his finger runs over your swollen lips before sliding in your mouth. You suck it just like how you’d take him on your mouth, keeping your eyes on him and his lips curve up, savoring the sight.
You watch as his hips slows down into gentle thrusts before he slips out of you and grips his glistening cock to run the head through your slit, nudging and circling on your clit before he’s inside you again. He presses his chest against yours and brushes his lips on yours, swallowing all your moans. Your pussy clamps down on him with every drag against your walls and you hold his arms that are flexed, your pants increasing in volume as you chant a plethora of ‘yes’, ‘fuck’, and ‘oh my God.’
His body hovering on top of you again, he maintains eye contact, lips parted as he breathes in jagged patterns. You’re then grabbing his wrist, placing his hand on your neck. He takes a hefty inhale, pupils dilating and gaze shifting. “You like that? Hm?”
Wordlessly, you nod, licking your lips as his slender fingers start to put pressure on your throat. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
Again, you offer a nod and a hum that borders on a moan. The force on your throat isn’t too hard but it’s firm and secure enough to steal your breath away and have your pussy clenching on him. The sudden delve at breathplay spurs him on to speed it up more than ever, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.
The headboard slams the walls and the bed creaks as the obscene echoes of your bodies merging fills the room. Your pants are caught in your throat and your mouth is kept open as you feel the coiling sensation in your stomach tightening. He drops his fingers from the base of your neck and cups your breast, clutching and pinching your pebbled bud with his thumb and forefinger before he kneads on your clit.
Keen whimpers and expletives flare out of your chest as the pad of his thumb rubs on your nub harshly. “You gonna come, baby?” he asks, his jackhammer thrusts quickening in pace. He can feel your walls contract against his cock as he holds up your legs and places them over his shoulders.
You nod as he shoves into you relentlessly. “Fuck,” you whimper helplessly, swivelling your hips, your climax threatening to wash over you soon. “I’m so close—mmmh my God—fuck—” you croak out sinfully.
“That’s it—nngh—fuck. Come for me, baby,” he coaxes, the pitch of his moan heightening as he pants hard.
One hard thrust and you’re falling over the edge, pussy clenching tight on his cock. His biceps and his stomach tauten as he keeps on fucking you, the sparks of his climax travelling fast to his tip. It doesn’t take long before a guttural sound is pulled out from his throat and his hips stutter, blowing his load and coating your walls with his warm seed.
You come three more times after the first round. With you on all fours, him holding your hips with a bruising grip as he hits you from behind. With you riding him while he’s sat down on the edge of his bed, watching you get yourself off from his full-length mirror. Your nails would dig on his shoulders while he’d suck on your nipples intently and mark your skin possessively, feeling satisfied at his handiwork. And finally, with you sitting on his face. Your hands would hold the headboard to steady yourself while his tongue dips in your pussy, eating you fervently.
Flopped down on the bed together, you’re both a fucked out mess, panting like dogs in the summer, lightheaded and smelling like sex. Staring at the ceiling, you feel like you’re still in a trance, encircled by that post-coital elation. He’s the first to stand up, bringing you some tissues so you can clean the insides of your thighs.
Now, you’ve had your fair share of bad hook-ups where the guy would come too early or where the oral is subpar, leaving you dissatisfied by the end of the night. But this one in particular—you can definitely say that this was a good fuck.
“Well,” you speak for the first time. “That was fun.” Collecting your panties on the floor, you slip it on and gather your discarded clothes lying on the floor haphazardly.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It’s two in the morning,” JK returns matter-of-factly. His brows rumple together and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost say that it’s out of worry and concern. “I can’t just let you out there on your own. It’s too dangerous.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat when he’s met with silence. “I’m just… you know, thinking about your safety,” he attempts to redeem himself.
God. How can someone be so irresistibly adorable? Is this the same guy who just fucked your brains out and who said the lewdest things while he was balls deep inside you?
“Are you asking me to stay?”
He gnaws on his bottom lip and offers a smile. “More like hoping.”
Just by the look on JK’s eyes, already, you could feel yourself spiralling and slipping the more you think about it, the more you consider his request. If you live in an alternate universe where you’re a superhero, it’s safe to say that you’d be royally screwed. Because you’re showing weakness, you’re being so vulnerable, crumbling apart with just one look.
A couple of hours with him should be fine. You suppose breaking one rule won’t hurt. “Okay,” you yield. “I’ll stay.”
He goes to his dresser to open one drawer, pulling a cotton shirt in white. Offering the article of clothing to you, you thank him meekly, swathing your body in it until it falls just above your knees. It’s baggy and soft, the scent of fabric conditioner reeling on your senses.
“There’s extra towels in the bathroom,” he gestures.
“Thanks.”
The first thing you notice are the boxes lying around just beside the bathtub. Half open boxes filled with essential toiletries. The citrus fragrance that surrounds the room catches your attention next and automatically, your eyes search for the source, finding his diffuser just below the window.
When you examine yourself in front of the mirror, you take a deep breath. It’s just for this night. You could just wake up early tomorrow, collect your things and leave without looking back. After giving your face a quick wash, you search for the towels to dry you up, finding them perfectly folded in one of his drawers, arranged by their colors.
When you come out, he’s already dressed in a grey shirt and dark pajamas, sitting up on his side of the bed, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and stares, ruffling the back of his head with a demure smile. “Sorry about the boxes.”
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” you reply encouragingly, walking to the other side to slip under the covers, allowing yourself to feel cozy and warm. “Did you just move in?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘P’. He wraps his arm around your hips gently and you can feel his soft breathing on the side of your neck. He’s definitely trying to cuddle you.
It’s odd though how you don’t do anything to break the closeness because you’re reciprocating it by settling on the wide expanse of his chest as the tip of his fingers trace circles on your arm in a soothing manner. Perhaps the reason is because you find that it feels comforting—calming, even.
Completely enveloped and secured in his warmth, he checks with you, “Nice?”
In your vocabulary, this is dangerous territory because it feels too intimate. “Yeah. Nice,” is what you say anyway. “Hey, are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep here?”
You hear him giggle, his fingers playing with your hair as he looks at your questioning eyes. “Of course.”
It’s just for this night, reminds your conscious. And since this is only for tonight, you might as well allow yourself to be encased in another person’s secure and comforting embrace. You might as well flout another rule since you already broke one when you decided to stay.
“You know, sometimes a simple hug could just be what a person needs the most,” you murmur while you’re in your half-asleep half-awake state. What prompted you to say this, you’re unsure. Perhaps it’s the way he’s got his arm encased around you, and the way you feel safe in someone else’s warmth.
“It’s a simple yet powerful gesture.”
“Exactly,” you return, feeling your lips twitch for a smile. “Even if the hugger doesn’t say anything and just hugs you, I think that’s already so powerful. Because, you know, you never really know what a person is going through.”
He lets himself listen to you as you impart your sentiments and once again, he can’t help but be enthralled and pulled in by how you articulate your perspective and how you make him see it. “Very true,” he agrees.
A few seconds of silence lingers as you’re unsure what to say next. You then catch a glimpse of his inked right arm, a sleeve full of intricate and beautiful art, with words, flowers and symbols reaching his shoulder blade. “Cool tattoos, by the way.”
“Thanks,” JK says, grinning foolishly. "Hey, you know, I gotta tell you that this—” he begins, turning to you, only to see you fast asleep, knocked out like a baby, snoring softly. He laughs mutedly. “—is the best one-night stand I’ve ever had.”
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The sunlight seeping through the gap of the curtain tickles your conscious, rousing you from the depths of your slumber. Eyes still closed, your hand fishes out for your phone buried somewhere underneath the pillow, gripping it hard as you squint to check for the time once it’s lit up—8:15 am.
“Shit,” you hiss quietly.
Beside you, JK is heavily asleep, left cheek squished on the pillow, long eyelashes sprawled out on his honey skin, his lips rolling out loud exhalations that cracks into snores. This would be the last glance of him that you’d take because before you know it, you’re panic gathering all your clothes on the floor, hurriedly and quietly dressing yourself up, tiptoeing out of his apartment after. You really shouldn’t have stayed the night—it’s not you to do that.
There’s a large part of you that wants to stay longer with him in that bed and a sense of sadness brewing in your belly you the closer you get to your destination and you’re uncertain as to why. Shaking your head, you shrug the feeling as just the effects of the wine you’ve been drinking last night and you let reality ground your thoughts from being in the clouds and pull you back.
Let’s check the facts again. You don’t date. You don’t do relationships—they’re messy and complicated, much like love itself. Soon enough, you will forget about him and you will go on with your life.
Once you arrive back at your place, Yuna is sat on your couch. She asks you what happened last night and just like that, you plop yourself down beside her, explaining the reason why you didn’t come home.
“Oh, by the way, where’s my engagement ring?” she asks when all of the chatting and gossiping about your tryst had culminated.
You fish for it in your pocket and hand it back.
“Thanks,” she says, though you notice that it’s not with a happy or relieved tone. It’s a weak one, the expression on her face crestfallen. Your gut tells you that something is wrong. And usually, your gut feelings are correct.
“What? Okay, listen to me. Last night, you told me that you love Jimin and that you still want to marry him. You can’t just let a small hiccup ruin everything,” you tell her after she revealed that when he gets here, she’s going to return the ring to him.
Before she can reply, the doorbell is ringing. You instantly saunter towards the door to open it. “Hey, Jimin,” you greet with a narrow smile.
“Hey, Y/N.” He nods weakly at you before you let him enter your apartment.
With a careful tone, you decide to breach the silent and awkward air as the couple just stares at each other, waiting for one another to speak. “Um… can I talk to you both for a sec?”
Leading him to your living room, you gesture for him to sit beside Yuna. Standing in front of them like you’re about to give an important presentation, you begin, clasping your palms together. “Look, you guys. This is your wedding. Are you really gonna let a single conflict stop you from getting married?”
Yuna’s eyes relaxes as she turns to Jimin and he smiles softly.
“You’re about to spend the rest of your lives with one another,” you resume with conviction, eyes flicking at the two of them. “Isn’t that the most important thing?”
After your speech, Jimin nods vehemently, turning to Yuna and winding his fingers with hers as he realizes that everything you said was correct. “Y/N’s right.”
She places her free hand on top of Jimin’s, nodding. “And you were right too, Jimin. The fight that we had was stupid because at the end of the day, I still really want to get married to you.”
“Me, too. There’s nothing more I want than to spend the rest of my life with you. Don’t forget that we’re doing this for us. We’re not doing this for them.” Jimin gently pushes a strand of hair to the back of Yuna’s ear. “So what if our parents can’t get along? They’re not the one who’s going to get married to you. It’s me.”
Yuna cups his cheek, her eyes laced with adoration and gratefulness. “I love you so much.”
He presses his forehead against hers with eyes fluttered shut. “I love you, too.” After a few seconds, he opens his eyes again and pulls back slightly. “I’m sorry I overreacted and said that we should call the wedding off.”
“I’m sorry too for reacting the way I did. I’m sorry for stressing about our parents,” Yuna returns with her apology.
He smiles. “So we’re okay, yeah?”
“Yeah. We’re okay,” Yuna nods before she dives in to kiss Jimin.
Clearing your throat and feigning a cough, you ask with an oncoming smile at the edges of your mouth, “Ahem. So… is the wedding back on, guys?”
Jimin turns to face you, cheeks blooming as he realizes he got carried away from kissing his fiancée. He nods animatedly. “The wedding’s officially back on.”
Your whole face lights up like a Christmas tree and the betrothed couple are all smiles and giggles when they stare at each other, hand in hand. Yuna begins to ask curiously, changing the subject. “Oh, wait. How was the party last night, babe?”
“I left early and went back home to sleep,” Jimin reveals. “It didn’t feel right without you there.”
She mirrors his pout, saying guiltily, “See, now, I feel bad. I wish I just went home to you last night.”
Jimin rubs the pad of his thumb on the back of her palm as a way to console her. “That’s okay, babe. We both needed to cool down.”
The next minutes are spent with the three of you laughing together, chit chatting about the wedding preparations over coffee that you brewed for them. And when they said their goodbyes and left, leaving you all alone in your apartment, did it finally sink in on you—there’s going to be a wedding in four days.
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Jeon Jungkook should be over that one-night stand already. He should be moving forwards with his life and starting to concentrate on other things like the big event that’s happening in three days. Yet here he is, moving backwards, desperately longing to return to the night he met you.
Now that he thinks about it, if he could have a superpower, he would choose teleportation. He’d bring himself back to that time where he first talked to you so he could bring up any topic that comes to mind and hear your interesting thoughts about it, so he could freely say something stupid or nonsensical and see the sight of your laughter. He’d bring himself to wherever you are now, ask for your real name and your number, text you and give you a call so he can take you out for dinner or to a movie, whatever you want.
That night with you was certainly something else—it was fun, wild, spontaneous and not to mention, hot. He just keeps on replaying that night over and over that when he jerks off, it’s you that’s on his fucking mind.
All he holds in his heart are the words you said and murmured, the details of your smile, your voice and laugh, your honeyed moans and gasps, your pretty face, a piece of your personality. And even if these are the only things that you left in your trail, he’ll make sure to keep it safe.
“Fuck this,” he huffs out in frustration, rising up from the hotel bed that he’s currently in. He feels like he’s going to lose it if he continues to think about you even more so he decides to head downstairs to the gym to blow off some steam.
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You had completely forgotten about the dinner until Yuna reminded you this afternoon—it’s the one with her, Jimin and their best man. You’ve never actually met him before, or any of the groom’s friends and family. You never really had the chance since these couple of months have been so busy that it felt like a whirlwind.
While walking with her to the elevator since you’re going to the hotel’s restaurant together, you decide to ask about lunch yesterday. Her eyes curve up with her lips as she drops the news that it turned out to be great—their parents have started to bond with each other.
She tells you that initially, there were still some awkwardness, some clash of opinions from Jimin’s father and her father but then in the middle of them having the hors d'oeuvres, Mr. Park had mentioned something about poker and it sparked an interesting conversation that led to them making plans. Meanwhile, over steak and wine, the mothers have agreed to go shopping with Yuna when she asked them for advice on what to take for the honeymoon.
When you arrive at the entrance of the restaurant, she scans the inside as she searches for them. “Oh, there they are,” Yuna announces when she spots Jimin and his best man. She points at the middle and you follow the trajectory of her finger.
Calling for their attention, she waves at them when they turn around. The moment your eyes land on the tall, dark-haired guy beside Jimin as you walk towards them, your breath hitches, pupils dilating as though they’ve seen a ghost.
Oh my fucking God. You’ve always thought that the world is small but is it really that small? Your one-night stand and Jimin’s best man—they’re one person. JK is literally Jungkook.
While Yuna and Jimin are busy greeting each other through hugs and kisses, you stare at him who’s dumbfounded and shell-shocked, his reaction written all over his face. Wearing a white shirt underneath a blue denim jacket with a silver watch on his wrist, he looks insanely handsome and neat. Your cheeks feel dangerously warm, reminiscent of the first time you saw him.
“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Jungkook,” Yuna introduces sprightly. “Jungkook, Y/N.”
He barely blinks as he stares at you, face suddenly turning pale. It seems as though he’s having a difficult time restraining his expressions and maintaining composure as he pictures the night you spent together, bodies buried into one another.
Releasing your tightened lips, you shoot Jungkook a smile, extending a hand out. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he greets with a soft register, almost trembling before he clears his throat and gains confidence, shaking your hand with a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
He went along with your playing dumb act. Good, because you’re not about to reveal to Yuna and Jimin that you’ve already met. Not tonight. And certainly not two days before their wedding.
“We’ve actually wanted to do this for a long time,” Yuna starts just as you’re all snatching up the menu in front of you.
Jimin agrees. “We thought it’d be nice if the best man and the maid of honor could get to know each other before the wedding.”
Yuna says regretfully, “I just wish we could’ve done this sooner instead of two days before the wedding.”
“But we’ve just been so busy,” Jimin continues his fiancée’s sentence. She nods in agreement, pouting apologetically.
You decide to speak first and reassure them, smiling narrowly. “That’s okay, guys. It’s no big deal.”
“What matters is that we’re all here now,” Jungkook adds right away with a huge grin. He arches a brow and glances at you with a single bob of his head before looking at the couple. “Right?”
Yuna and Jimin nods agreeingly and you feign a smile before grabbing your glass of water, your throat suddenly drying up. The conversation between the four of you falls easily during dinner, with all of you occasionally clanking your glasses of champagne.
Over food, you and Jungkook learn more about each other, about the memories you both had with the couple during college. You and him talked as though this is the first time and on the topic of university, you learned that Jungkook’s major was finance. He studied abroad and decided to stay and live in London after graduation. You point out that finance had been your original choice before you settled for film studies. Back then, you chose passion over practicality, much to your mother’s dismay.
He tells you that film studies had actually been his first choice. It was the exact opposite for him—practicality over passion. All because it’s what his parents wanted of him, it’s good for taking over their businesses. When you suggested that he could still do it, he returned with a smile, said that he actually does have plans in the future to go back to studying his passion.
Yuna’s stare flits between Jungkook and you before she eyes Jimin whose lips have curved into a smirk, his brows dancing up mischievously when he meets her stare. It’s as though the gears in their heads have turned and seeds have been planted in their minds.
When you’re all patiently waiting for the third course, Yuna leans in to whisper by your side. “Can you come with me to the ladies’ room please?” Her eyes press their stare on you, widening as she tries to send a girl code to you indirectly and immediately mouthing an imperative ‘now’. When she stands up, you take it as a signal to follow her to the restroom, walking briskly to catch up.
“What are you doing?” Yuna asks once you’ve shut the door close behind you.
“What?”
“Uh, hello? Jungkook’s flirting with you,” she says instantly in a heartbeat.
“What? No, he’s not.”
“Yes, he is,” she counters, her mouth opening with a grin, eyes laced with bewilderment upon seeing your flustered demeanor. “And you’re totally smitten.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” she quips, continuing the rally.
“Oh my God, I’m—I’m not smitten,” you insist, voice lower than usual.
“Why don’t you ask him out?” Yuna suggests frankly.
“You know I’m not into this whole dating thing.”
“That’s what you always say,” she sighs, exasperated.
“Because it’s true.”
Yes, you haven’t gotten him out of your mind ever since that night. And yes, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way he kissed you, wrapped you around his embrace, laughed with you and smiled at you through the small conversations in between. But that doesn’t mean anything—it’s probably just one of those caught-up-in-the-moment feelings. It doesn’t mean anything. Right?
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It’s been hours after that dinner and you’re now tossing and turning around your hotel bed, feeling restless. There’s too much on your mind that sleep is way too far from your reach. When you grab your phone from the nightstand, it lights up and reads 1:00 am on the dot.
Feeling like you need fresh air, you push the covers away and slip your shoes on, heading out of your room in your pajamas to visit the rooftop of the hotel, where you know a piece of tranquillity can be achieved.
Finding yourself sitting on the outdoor metal bench, you let your mind relax, letting the stillness of the night embrace you. You try to focus on the little things, on your surroundings. The night sky is clear, speckled with the constellation that shines brightly above. There are a few days left before winter is over, the breeze of the wind starting to turn warm as it kisses your skin. It prickles still, containing the remnants of the past, but it’s bearable.
“Can’t sleep?”
The familiar softness of a voice tickles your reverie. When you return your stare down to Earth, Jungkook stands on the side, the bomber jacket covering his upper body zipped, hands in the pockets of his black joggers. His hair is windswept, some sticking out to the sides, while his fringe is parted, revealing his forehead.
Returning with a nod, he wastes no time to take a seat beside you.
“Me, too,” he admits, prolonging his stare at you. When you meet his eyes, an inexplicable tingling warmth once again dawns inside you, settling into your skin.
Biting on the inside of your lip, you ask consciously, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Jungkook, embarrassed with his cheeks now tinted with a rosy hue, smooths the back of his head and strays his eyes away from you, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I just… I still can’t believe it’s you. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Honestly? Me, too,” you admit, the edges of your lips twitching for a faint smile.
There’s a hefty air of silence that engulfs you two and he decides to glue his gaze up to the sky while you turn to observe the side of his face. It’s odd how earlier you were trying to entertain yourself, finding which star is the brightest from your observance of the night sky. Disregarding moons and celestial bodies, you were scanning and sweeping the entirety of the universe in your field of vision, seeking for which star has the brightest light, only to find it futile because you couldn’t. It seems that your answer is here.
There’s something about the roundness and expressiveness of Jungkook’s eyes that fascinates you. They twinkle whenever he blinks, as though fairies surround him every second and they sprinkle golden dust on his irises. It’s beautiful, the way he gazes at the universe and ruminates on his own thoughts, surrounded by quietness. The sight from your position is calming and peaceful.
Facing forward, you speak again, eyes pointed on the city skyline, on the buildings across the horizon. “Who would’ve thought that our lives would somehow be connected?”
“Just goes to show how small the world really is,” he answers with a relaxed register, looking at you.
He suddenly moves about when he notices you shivering, quickly unzipping his jacket. He transfers his body heat that resided on the inside of the outerwear to you when he gently placed it over your shoulders. “Here.”
Your eyes immediately land on him when you feel the weight on you, uncrossing your arms as you cling on to the collars of his jacket. A thin smile of gratitude is what you send his way before you’re doing what your instinct orders you to do. Scooting closer towards him, you hold up the jacket and nestle it over your backs, hoping it would be enough to cover the two of you.
By giving you his jacket, you knew that he had good intentions and wanted you to feel warm against the sudden harshness of the wind. But it occurred to you that Jungkook would be cold in the aftermath and cold is not a feeling that you want him to feel tonight.
Sharing his jacket was the only solution you could think of and he didn’t complain nor insisted that you have it. Instead, you both settle on being a lot closer to one another, the side of your thighs touching, shoulders nudging, arms side by side like pillars.
Jungkook’s hand wraps around your waist to bring you closer to him, warm on your skin as he protects you and guards you from the nipping breeze. If there’s one thing that you noticed, it’s that his palm never lowers down; it stays still on its spot, his grip secure but gentle.
The combination of your warmth has built a strong enough fire as though you both are camping, watching a bonfire. The blaze of the flame is more than enough to feel rested and comfortable, away from all the cold.
“Don’t you find it fascinating? It’s like fate or something. Some sort of sign from the universe. Do you believe in those kinds of things?” you ask intriguingly, to him and to the vast space.
He lets the seconds whirl by before he responds, a sense of bitterness edging in his voice. “Not really.”
“How come?”
Jungkook sighs deeply, stares back at your penetrative eyes. “Well, because I feel like what brought us together during that night wasn’t fate. It was ourselves.”
“Actually, I think it was that couple who brought us together,” is what you point out as an attempt to be light and funny. This earns you a light chuckle.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not disregarding fate or its existence. I just think that I sat next to you that night because I wanted to.” He shakes his head. “Sorry for being negative.”
“No, don’t be,” you reassure him. “You’re entitled to your own opinions.”
“It’s just,” he says, hesitating. At his next intake of breath, he gets the courage to be honest, to open his heart and uncover the burden that had weighed him down in the past. “All my life I felt like I never had a choice. My parents had already mapped out my whole life. They were the ones who decided which school I should go, what course I should take, what my career should be, who should I marry and what age I’d get married. And it was just so fucking tiring to feel so controlled all the time like a puppet.”
“Is that why you were drinking that night?”
From the outlook, one would think that Jungkook is someone who has control on his life and his decisions. But it isn’t the case. With his upbringing and the traditions instilled on him, control is something he had to master, something he had to channel outwardly for his parents’ satisfaction.
He does know how to take control but for the wrong reasons—it’s for the reasons he doesn’t want. He controls the things that his folks expect him to manage. Jungkook does know how to do it but it’s also for front. Because deep down, he is anything but in control. Deep down, he’s someone who has never been able to take the steering wheel and drive his own life. Deep down, it’s what he wants.
He doesn’t want anyone to drive his life for him. He wants to do it himself. And during the night he met you, that was the first step of taking control, of stepping on the gas and going on the route where there would be a lot of right and wrong turns. He doesn’t want to know where he’s going. For the first time in his life, he wants to be spontaneous. Wants to live. Wants to prioritize his own happiness for the sake of his well-being.
“Yeah. I was at Jimin’s parents’ party during that night and all I kept on thinking was how he defied his parents for his own happiness. His courage inspired me that time. Then I got into an argument with my parents because they kept on trying to set me up there so I just told them how I felt and left the party.”
He remembers the occurrence of events that night and it makes him grit his teeth, darting his eyes down to the floor. “At first, I thought that I made a stupid decision but I realized that I did the right thing because I don’t regret it. I chose myself for the first time in my life and it didn’t feel daunting. It felt liberating.”
He looks at you, realizing that he was looking for a cathartic release during that night and somehow, what he found was comfort. He found so much more when he met you. You started out as a stranger to him but you’re much more than that to him now.
“You know, out of us two, you’re the real superhero,” you offer candidly. Your eyes are filled with more admiration and respect for him and all that lives and breathes in you at this moment is hope. Hope that he’s in the direction he wants, hope that he’s happy and that there’s less agony in his mind, heart, body and soul.
Jungkook’s smile never leaves his lips even as he furrows his eyebrows and questions, “Wait, let me get this straight. Jimin and Yuna—they were your mission all along?”
“Yep,” you nod before explaining the context of that night, telling him that the couple encountered a small glitch that made them temporarily call off the wedding.
“Do you realize that there’s a wedding in two days because of you?”
“Well, it’s really because of them and their love for each other,” you counter.
“You should give yourself some credit.”
When you smile at him, he mirrors it. And for a while, you just sit together closely. For a while, you bask in each other’s presence, feeling comforted by the silence and by the thoughts you’d say out loud. And with every grin or laugh that you get to see on his face in between, you’d feel your heart hammer frantically within your chest, alarming you greatly.
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Tomorrow is the wedding. There’s officially less than twenty-four hours left before you have to wake up, get ready to be glammed up, smile for photographs, support the bride with everything, lift the long trail of her veil up whenever she goes, straighten it as she poses for her bridal portraits and be a point of contact to every guest. Less than twenty-four hours left before you go do your maid of honor duties and make sure everything falls smoothly into place. You’ll have to keep the spirits high tomorrow, especially the bride’s because you know that there would be an abundant of nerves and emotions.
The trepidation from imagining how the ceremony would go sizzles inside you. In your mind, there is the inevitable list of things that could go wrong. And although you don’t want to think about it, it still crosses your conscious from time to time. It’s better to think like this because then you could also ponder about your immediate and sensible solutions when faced with those problems.
Lying on your hotel bed, you try to distract your thoughts by watching a movie. When your phone vibrates, you pick it up and read the message from Yuna, asking if you want to go downstairs for a drink.
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“Oh, look. There’s Jimin and Jungkook,” Yuna turns to you with a foxy grin splayed on her lips as you walk further towards the open bar of the restaurant.
Surprise bleeds on your face when you see them sitting on one of the stools. Jimin’s face lights up as he sees the two of you approaching them.
“Hi, beautiful,” the blonde man greets his fiancée, placing a smooch on her cheek before turning to greet you affably.
Yuna flits her gaze between the two men. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We just decided to have some drinks before going to the mini golf room,” Jimin responds casually, peering over Jungkook who just nods. When he meets Yuna’s eyes, he gasps loudly and dramatically. “Oh, no.”
Jungkook’s brows crease. “What’s wrong?”
Jimin sets his glass down and touches Yuna’s forearm. “Sweetie, we forgot that thing that we have to do tonight.”
Her mouth goes agape. “Oh my goodness—yes!”
“What thing?” you ask, folding your arms and perking a brow up.
“We said we were gonna meet Hoseok tonight to talk about the wedding and make sure everything’s okay for tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” you ask, drawling out the word as you catch on quickly.
“Yes,” they punctuate synchronously, acting as though you haven’t already figured out what they’re trying to pull.
Yuna clasps her hands together, smiling widely at you and Jungkook like there’s a lightbulb above her head. “Wait a minute, why don’t you guys do something together?”
“What a great idea,” Jimin adds, tone and expression obviously rehearsed.
Well, would you look at that. Turns out, you’re not spending this evening with Yuna at all. Those two really wanted to play matchmaker the moment they saw you two talking during that dinner. Especially Yuna. You just knew from the spark in her eyes and from the conversation she had with you that night. God, if only they knew the truth about you and Jungkook. Actually, if they did know, they’d probably be so chuffed about it and continue to match you up.
“I guess this was their plan all along, huh?” you turn to Jungkook after the wily couple bid their goodbyes and left.
Jungkook chuckles, bobbing his head. He offers to buy you a drink and you’re not entirely sure how much time passes because of all the laughter, stories, facts and opinions you’ve both shared with each other once the conversation sparked off.
You talked about the Wandavision episodes that you’ve seen so far, drifting off to the broad cinematic universe of Marvel after. Over cocktails, you and Jungkook discuss who is the most powerful Avenger, to which you fervidly and resolutely answered Scarlet Witch, while he says it’s Thor, contending that he’s a deity.
“Did you not see how she literally made Thanos call for back up during that scene in Endgame?” you maintain your stance passionately.
“Okay, fine,” Jungkook concedes. “But I still think that out of the original Avengers, Thor is the strongest.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that,” you nod and wave your hand away, agreeing like it’s a universal fact. “Okay, uh… what about Captain Marvel? Do you think she’s stronger than Thor?”
“Definitely. She could kick his ass easily.”
A bright smile graces your lips at the way he endearingly articulates his words and at the way his eyes excitedly shine. Time seems to cease around you, along with the movements of your surroundings the more you keep on talking to Jungkook like this, the more you get to know him and his personality.
He looks at you with a nervous expression after you both come down from the high of laughter and giggles. He settles his glass down on the counter as though he just drank his courage and clears his throat. “Listen, um… there’s actually something that I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
The beats of your heart sounding like the ticking of a clock, you anticipate with bated breath.
With his round eyes staring at you with sincerity, he bares his feelings and goes for it. “I really like you so… do you maybe wanna go out with me sometime? For like a proper date, I mean.”
It’s then that you decide to stop the ticking, to shut all of the alarms going off in your head. “Don’t,” you say, the word coming out as a mere whisper as your lips tremble. None of this should’ve even happened. It’s not for you. You can’t. You don’t have it in you to go through it.
Pushing yourself off your seat, you’re shaking your head, saying, “I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t,” in one succession. You run away to rush back to your room, vision bleary from the dampness and hands shuddering from the onslaught of feelings in your chest.
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The bride sits in front of the dresser, lips parted as she bites her fingernails in apprehension. You’re kneeling next to her, trying to calm her nerves, explaining that wedding jitters are common and it’s all just because of the build-up and the anticipation, emphasizing to her that her love for Jimin should prevail against the nerves. You offer support by doing breathing techniques with her, letting her look in front of the mirror as you inhale and exhale together.
She plasters a smile and lets out a huge breath before she starts to babble frantically like a woodpecker. “What if I’m not ready? Am I ready? Do you think I’m ready?”
Over and over, you tell her to take deep breaths with you before you provide your replies, assuring her that she’s more than ready for this. “And also, don’t forget that after the wedding, there’s going to be a honeymoon in Paris,” you remind.
Yuna takes a couple of sharp exhalations as though to exorcise the nerves and jitters brewing inside her intensely. With a new, confident disposition, she is bobbing her head eagerly, holding both of your hands, saying “I think I’m ready” to you but more to herself.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s do this wedding!”
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As you watch your best friend walk down the aisle, an overwhelming bundle of feelings shoots through your veins, making you tear up. She is dazzling with the love that breathes and beats insides her. And when you turn to glance at Jimin, he is smiling even when his emotions streams down his cheeks.
“When I was a little girl, I’ve always wondered if I would ever find my Prince Charming just like in the fairytales,” Yuna commences her proclamation of vows. “And then one night at a work party, I lost a game of pool. As a result, I had to ask the first guy I saw to dance with me. I’ll forever be glad that I lost that game because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have met you. Jimin, with you, I didn’t just find my prince. I also found my soulmate, my sun, my moon, my angel, my heaven, my earth and my person. I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life.”
“It still feels surreal that I’m right here in front of you saying my vows. It still feels just like yesterday, we were on our first date. As a matter of fact, our first date is something that I will never forget. We were sat outside a café and I was so nervous that I accidentally slammed my ice cream on my nose instead of aiming it on my mouth. But then you took me by surprise when you deliberately smudged your chocolate ice cream on your nose just to make me feel less embarrassed, just to make me feel better. When we laughed for five minutes straight, that’s the moment I said to myself that I wouldn’t mind laughing with this guy for the rest of my life. I want to be silly and weird with him for the rest of my days.”
“Jimin, you are the guy who approaches every cat and dog roaming around in the streets, who laughs so hard to the point where you fall off your chair, who would pout adorably for the rest of the day whenever you lose at games but above it all, you are the guy that I would choose to spend my forever with in every lifetime and in every timeline.”
She attempts to keep her voice steady, but with her tears, it proved impossible not to falter at the preceding words. “I want you to know that if we fight, then we’ll work it out. If there are obstacles on the way, then we’ll jump over it together, we’ll go into battle together. We’ll conquer every trial and we’ll make it work.” She nods and repeats the last few words. “We’ll make it work.”
Her vision watery, she sniffs and breathes through her mouth. It took everything not to rub her eyes and screw her eye make-up. After looking up, she eventually blinked it away and then faced her groom with a grin as she concluded her heartfelt vows.
“Park Jimin, I love you and I promise you that from this day forward, you will never walk alone.”
When you glance to your left and right, everyone is either snuffling or wiping away the corner of their eyes with handkerchiefs and tissues, much like you are. Yuna had let you read the first draft of her vows before and hearing the final, full-length version now is just heart-melting and moving. You have a feeling that Jimin’s would also turn you into an emotional wreck.
He takes a deep breath and begins. “All my life, I was brought up to think that I’m meant to be all sorts of things. They would say, ‘Jimin, you’re going to be CEO,’ ‘Jimin, you’ll take over the family business,’ ‘Jimin, you’re going to marry someone from this family or that family’—it’s all I ever heard. And then one night, I met this incredible and beautiful woman who asked me to dance. We danced and talked for hours until we were the only ones left in the bar and they had to kick us out because it was like four in the morning.”
“Yuna, after going on dates with you and having the opportunity to get to know you and your beautiful soul, I knew you were the one that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew you were the one because I didn’t care about what’s meant for me anymore. All I know is that I’m meant to be here. I’m meant to love you, to take care of you, to protect you and to grow old with you. And as I stand in front of you today, I promise that I will always let you have the last piece of mochi. I promise I won’t run away whenever you ask me to clean Yoongi’s litter box. I promise I’ll always be weird and goofy with you and most importantly, I promise that I will love you until my last breath—until the very end.”
Chewing on his bottom lip, Jimin bends his head down as the thick droplets of tears leaks out from his eyes. When he looks up again, Yuna’s hand is there, caressing his cheek and wiping them away for him. He takes another sharp intake of breath, exhaling with a smile.
“My love, I am yours today, tomorrow, forever and always.”
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Tapping the mic twice in front of you that’s perched into the stand, you display your best smile to the audience, hiding the nerves that dares to creep outwards from underneath.
“Hi, everyone,” you begin. “Let me start by talking about rainbows. A rainbow occurs naturally when the Earth is in perfect harmony. There’s a specific combination and balance between sunshine and rain that creates a prism of colors perfectly painted in a semicircle across the sky for everyone to enjoy. It’s not easy to find one but I’d like to think that Yuna and Jimin’s love is like a rainbow. I think that their love brightens and lights up their lives and has a lasting impression on those who witness it. They truly are great individuals. But together, they are unstoppable. Together, they are complete. Yuna and Jimin, you two are exactly where you should be—in each other’s arms.”
“Now a toast,” you propose, raising the glass in your hand. “To love!”
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From the way Jungkook stands in front of the mic, there are no hints of nervousness and edge crossing his face. If there are, then it’s safe to say that he masks it really well. He carries himself confidently, milking all the spotlight that illuminates down on him.
“Good evening, everyone. I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves tonight,” he greets. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Jungkook. I’m the best man.” He shoots a glance to the couple’s table. “Yuna, you look stunning tonight and I think we can all agree that Jimin won the lottery.”
Giggles erupt at his upbeat tone and Jimin raises his hand and covers his mouth as he throws his head back and laughs, eyes disappearing in his delight. Jungkook pauses for a second, trying to rack his brain for words. Blinking, he slightly shakes his head to swipe some of his fringe away from covering his eyes.
“To be completely honest, when I was thinking about what to say for my speech, I considered sharing funny anecdotes but then I realized that not only would it be embarrassing for Jimin, it’d be for me, too. So instead, I’m going to focus on the smart moves he’s made. Firstly, he chose me as his best man,” he rests his tatted hand on his chest for emphasis. He then glances at Jimin, pointing his finger and winking playfully at his friend. “That’s very clever of him. He has great taste.”
“Next are his friendships, his relationships and rapport with people, his closeness with his family and his dedication to his career—all of which are very smart moves because it shows who he is as a person. But the smartest thing he’s done is grabbing that chance to tell the woman who makes his heart happy how he feels.” He drops his eyes on you briefly with a wistful smile before he stares into the sea of people once more. “The smartest thing that Jimin has ever done is marrying the love of his life.”
The crowd echoes an ‘aww’ as the bride and groom whip their heads to look at one another with radiant smiles before diving for a quick kiss.
“Jimin and Yuna, as you start your new life together, I want you to share your hopes, dreams and fears with one another. Be interested in each other’s personal ambitions and goals. Be weird and goofy together. Be respectful, forgiving and supportive of each other. But most of all, I want you both to be happy and healthy.”
Lifting up the glass on his right hand, he salutes with a gleeful smile, even though this time, it’s one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “With that said, let’s all raise our glasses to the newlyweds!”
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As soon as the hosts announced that it was time for people to gather round on the center to dance, the guests immediately stood up in no time. Families of both the bride and groom began to partner up, friends and other guests making their way to waltz exuberantly, rushing to join the newlyweds now after they just had done their astonishing first couple dance to Thinking Out Loud.
When most have converged on the dance floor, it has become apparent that you were one of the ones left sitting around your table. Wonderful Tonight begins to play in the background, slowing the atmosphere and romancing the air. People have begun to sway with each other, incandescent lights dazzling around them to make the moment magical and fairy-tale like.
Jungkook comes by your side, holding out his palm. “Dance with me?”
Your eyes stare at his hand, uncertainty melting in your features. When you meet his pleading eyes, you nod and let him lead you to the front, merging in with the people and finding a spot for the both of you.
Tentatively, he advances forward, eyeing you as his hands hover on your back, not touching your flesh. He takes a deep breath and releases it out to the air before his palms rest on your lower spine, your own arms encasing around his neck. You and Jungkook begin to swing gently, hips swaying side by side. His eyes are on you at all times and you haven’t had the chance to look at him, eluding them in fear of melting completely.
“Jungkook,” you manage when you’ve mustered the courage to speak, your voice still weak. The dampness in your eyes starts to irritate you as you watch him tape up a fake smile on his exterior, your heart crumbling apart.
This is not how you want to see him, especially when it’s such a jolly occasion. He should be enjoying himself, rejoicing in delight. But he’s not. His eyes are duller in its twinkle, his smiles are reserved and deflated, his movements quieter and less spirited.
He shakes his head lightly as he shushes you softly, attempting to uplift you. “We don’t have to talk about that,” he says, swallowing hardly before he speaks again. “Let’s just dance for now.”
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“You—what?” is Yuna’s reaction after you revealed to her everything that had happened with Jungkook.
You had been unusually silent when you came in to Yuna and Jimin’s house. Even when she was handing you the spare keys and guiding you to where Yoongi’s food bowls are—you’ve been asked to officially cat-sit for a few days while the newlyweds are carousing in the city of love—you were quiet. And Yuna, being your friend, voiced straight away that something was wrong.
“And then when he told you that he liked you, you walked away?” she repeats your words back when you’ve finished telling your story.
Again, you nod, sighing as you shake your head and shut your eyes, overwhelmed with emotions that are synonymous to regret.
“You should talk to him,” she advises calmly after a few moments of observance.
“What would I even say?”
“Y/N, I think you know exactly what you want to say to him.”
In perfect timing, Yoongi elegantly prances around and Yuna takes the opportunity to pick him up, carrying him sideways like a baby, patting and stroking him gently while he purrs contently.
“Do you have anything to add, you little cutie?” she asks, flicking her gaze on him and then at you.
Your eyes are pressed on the calico cat, who responds with a soft meow. In human language, that would be translated as, “Go after him, you fucking idiot!”
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“Hey,” you say, keeping your face straight and your teeth gritted to prevent you from letting your feelings seep out from your eyes.
“Hey,” Jungkook echoes. He’s stiff in his movements as he lets you slip inside his apartment. His eyes are tired, bloodshot as though he hasn’t been letting sleep get to him.
You’re not quite sure where to begin but all you know is that this is the right thing to do. You have to tell him everything that you have been feeling for him because if you don’t, it’s going to keep you up at night, it’s going to eat you away, it’s going to make you hate yourself because you didn’t take the chance. If you don’t, you’ll regret everything.
When he speaks first, you feel your heart drop. “Listen, um… I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I said that night.” He takes a sharp gulp, eyes darting down to the floor before looking at you. “Can we just forget about it?”
Your heart aches as you listen to his words. Jungkook is apologizing when he shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t apologize because there was nothing wrong about what he did. If you like someone, then you should tell that to them, right? Life is short. Sometimes, you’ve got to be forward or else you’ll just regret it. Better to do something than to not do it at all.
He was right to choose himself that night and listen to what his heart said. There’s nothing wrong in letting yourself want, in letting yourself fall, in opening yourself to another person. And yet during that night, you did the complete opposite. You didn’t face your feelings head on. Instead, you stepped backwards from it. You had convinced yourself that selfishness was wrong, that liking him was synonymous to danger.
The only vernacular you had gotten accustomed to when it came to falling was being vulnerable and open. So when Jungkook bared and offered you his heart and his feelings, when he showed his transparency, you let your fear colonize every part of you. It alarmed you how easily he had disarmed your walls so you decided to shut it all out.
There were a lot of things you said to yourself during the night you met Jungkook. All those rules you established to your one-night stand and how you don’t do this and that. But really, you couldn’t deny the truth that burned inside you.
It made you realize that certain people come into someone’s life to make them realize that it’s okay to acknowledge their feelings, that it’s okay to lower their walls down and set back those rules, shove those fears away so they can open themselves up again and see the beauty of dating, of getting to know a person and falling for them. It just so happened that the person who came into your life to make you believe again was Jungkook.
You’re throwing all those rules away because you’re now listening to your heart. You’re now taking a path that you know you won’t regret being on. You’re now admitting your truth to him because this is what people do when they like each other.
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” you tell him, taking a deep breath afterwards. “I was a coward that night because I ran away when the truth is… I really like you, too.”
He blinks. “You… you like me?”
“I do. I think you’re great. You’re sweet and charming and funny and… you’re not afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Really, I should be the one saying sorry to you because I walked out that night instead of confronting my own feelings for you. I didn’t grab my chance when I should’ve. I got scared and thought that running away and shutting my feelings out was the answer.”
Looking at him, you continue, eyes starting to sting. “You know, after spending time with you, I realized that maybe there was a reason why fate or whatever it is in the universe that brought us back again. It’s because you’re meant to be in my life. You’re meant to stay. And… I do want you to stay.”
Jungkook steps forward and catches your hands, embracing his fingers with yours. His eyes ghosts on your every feature, drinking you in before he gently presses his forehead with yours. “You mean that?”
“Yes,” you say and nod confidently.
“Good.” He runs the tip of his nose against yours languidly. “Because I want you in my life, too. I want you to stay for a long time.”
Your palm holds his cheek, pad of your thumb smoothing the skin just beneath his eye and he captures it to kiss the inside of your hand. Your pulse quickens, heart thumping in your chest, reaching to the tips of your toes.
“So then… can I be your girlfriend?” you ask bashfully.
Jungkook captures your lips in a heartbeat, pressure soft and gentle, making you smile against the kiss. He mirrors your expression as he deepens it, your belly being tickled by all the flutters, the pitter patters of your heart spelling out his name clearly and enormously—in all caps and in bold letters.
“Yes,” is what falls out from his lips when you both pull away and you succumb to your mirth, eyes twinkling with excitement and hope—for this, for him, for the future.
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To say that Jungkook is happy would certainly be an understatement. He’s over the moon—even more than that. Why shouldn’t he be? He’s finally at that point in his life where he’s doing what he wants and what makes him feel good. He is the director and the main actor of his life and that’s how it should be. He’s never been happier and he has you to thank, along with his friends and parents. Yes, you read that right. His parents.
Before you confessed your feelings for him that day, Jungkook’s parents had visited him in his apartment. They apologized, acknowledged that it was wrong of them to be hard on him and choose his decisions for him. His mother realized that her son is his own person who is capable of making his own choices. They tried so hard to prepare him for when he takes over the businesses that they didn’t even consider his feelings, his father had admitted this to him.
When they said their apologies and asked for forgiveness, his tears started to trickle down. Jungkook himself apologized for how he acted during the night he walked out from the party. But his mother shook her head and convinced him that they should be the one saying sorry. Immediately, she closed the distance to embrace her son. Your words about the power of hugs resonated in Jungkook’s head and it’s then that he embraced her tighter.
After a moment, his dad stepped forward and placed his palm on his shoulder, his mouth lifting for a smile as he told him that they are going to support him with whatever he wants to do in his life. The most important thing for them is to see him living his best life, with a healthy mind and body. They won’t stand in his way and that they’ll make it up to him, his mother promised. Jungkook once again pulled his parents for an embrace and professed his gratitude and love.
So now, his heart is overjoyed. He feels like he has everything in the world. And, he does. He has you.
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SIX MONTHS LATER
Out of all the weddings that you’ve attended, this one would definitely be in your top five.
There are three reasons for this, the first being that the venue the couple chose is intimate and private. Jungkook had told you that Taehyung’s always been the kind of guy who’s not big on grandiosity, preferring quiet, lowkey events more so having to witness him and his bride tie the knot in their own backyard with their close friends and family around them had truly been special, moving and heart-warming.
While everyone is now partying and drinking for the reception, Jungkook went to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. On your table, you continue to laugh and talk with Jimin, Yuna, their other friends and of course, the newlyweds. Taehyung, as always, is loud and witty, his beautiful bride lovely to talk to. All of you end up cackling together as you feel comfortable around one another.
When they said their goodbyes to wander off to the next table and accommodate their guests, Jimin proposed that you all go and ‘light the dance floor up like a dynamite’—his words, not yours.
As the whole gang begins to shuffle to the center, Jungkook, in perfect timing, appears back at your side. “Dance with me?” he asks with his palm open out for you.
You don’t even have to think or hesitate because your hand is already clasping against his, fingers embracing his as a smile makes its way on your lips, excitement swirling round your belly. This, you think, is your favorite sight ever—Jungkook, with his golden grin, his bright eyes and his positive energy radiating off of him.
Fairy lights all lined up are glimmering above you, tulip petals are scattered on the grass, lanterns are lit up in every corner and different genres of music are playing in the background which takes you to the second reason as to why this wedding is in your top five. From the details down to the atmosphere, it’s all stunning, encapsulating the vibes of a classic romantic film. You can see how the personalities of the bride and groom comes through with this.
When you’ve settled on a spot in the middle, he places his hands on your hips while yours are perched on his shoulders. When you both start to sway slowly to Can’t Help Falling In Love, you flick your gaze between his eyes and lips. “So. Taehyung’s been telling me stories about you in high school.”
Jungkook groans, pressing his eyes shut. “Oh, God—which one?”
“Guess.”
“Is it… the musical incident?” he asks cautiously, chewing on his bottom lip.
When you confirm it, a tinge of vermillion saturates his cheeks and ears. “Fuck, I’m gonna beat Tae’s ass.”
You laugh brightly.
“God,” he drawls out, brows knitted together and nose scrunched up. “This is so embarrassing.”
“It’s okay, babe. I still love you,” you tell him before giving the tip of his nose a peck.
“Really?” he asks with an adorable, innocent pout.
You nod resolutely. “In fact, I love you so much that I’m planning to buy some diapers for your Christmas present this year.”
With an unamused expression, you burst out into laughter even more. Arching his pierced brow up, he taunts, “Oh, so you find that funny, huh? How about if I do…” His fingers instantly slither to your sides, using his weapon against you. “…this!”
Instinctively, you’re flailing about, hysterically laughing and squealing when he starts tickling you, the tingling sensation surging through your nerves. Though you want to escape, your boyfriend is far too strong for you so all you could do is concede and wave your flag of defeat.
“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” you say in one succession, holding onto his arms.
He eventually ceases his teasing, smiling triumphantly before you’re back to dancing joyfully. He raises your hand up and twirls you before scooping in to catch you, his palm on the small of your back. Hypnotized and entranced by your dashing partner, you feel like you’re the only ones here in this room, all the spotlights on you two.
Perhaps this is really how people feel when they find the person that they’re certain of. Everything blurs and life goes on around you but you two are the only ones that is constant, the ones that are clear in your line of sight.
“Maybe I should ask Yuna too for some of your secrets,” Jungkook says puckishly.
“I already told you all of my secrets,” you rebut, sticking your tongue out.
“Hm. I doubt it. I’m sure she has some of your embarrassing secrets.”
Gasping, you glare at him threateningly. “You wouldn’t.”
He snickers craftily. “Oh, I would.”
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, smacking his arm and he laughs heartily, swaying with you for a bit before he draws another shriek from your throat when he dips you back and bends forward to kiss you. When he lifts you back up, you give his arms a squeeze, the people’s roaring, whistling and clapping making you feel shy.
Oh, and last but not the least, the reason as to why this wedding is considered a favorite is because you caught the bridal bouquet.
(Jungkook had the garter.)
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TWO YEARS LATER
Jungkook whips his head and sees you coming out of the bedroom, hair damp from having just showered. When he sees you wearing his shirt and shorts, a smile splits on his face. You barely wear your own clothes but who is he to complain when you look so fanciable in them?
“Hey, baby?” he calls.
Your head springs up, eyes straying away from your phone to look at your boyfriend who’s snuggled up on the couch. “Hm?”
“You wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure,” you chirp coolly with a smile, making a quick beeline to the kitchen to grab a tub of ice cream from the freezer before landing beside him, his arm all wrapped around you while you bring your feet up on the couch and fold your legs so you could feel more cozy.
He lifts the remote and clicks the play button, the black screen on the TV finally fading, replaced by the Marvel Studios opening scene. Knowing him, he probably chose one of the Iron Man or Captain America films.
Eating your ice cream contently—making sure to also feed him some—you fixate your full attention on the screen when it starts showing a footage of someone’s feet walking on grass. The camera is zoomed in on the shoes and you could see that the person is wearing chunky Fila trainers. Exactly like Jungkook’s. How interesting and cool is this that the actor is wearing the exact same pair as your boyfriend’s.
Indiscernible murmurs are overshadowed by the howling of the wind in the video. The camera then pans to the scenery—a beautiful, glistening lake on the horizon with the sky above clear and blue. Okay, this definitely isn’t Iron Man or Captain America.
“What are we watching?” you ask, setting the tub down on the coffee table.
Jungkook doesn’t give you an answer. He doesn’t really need to because the next thing you’re seeing tells you what you need to know. You’re watching you. It’s you, walking along the park while Jungkook’s hand is holding yours, his free hand holding the camera that’s recording.
This was over a year ago when you both went to the local park. You rented bikes to cycle for hours, hiked and explored the woods together before you ended the productive and fun nature day out by having coffee and sandwiches at the park’s café. The next second in the video is him calling your name. You turn around, eyes dropping on the camera before you’re giving him a smile.
The following scenes that pass by are in flashes, just like in those film viewers where you press a button and different images flickers. There are pictures and clips of you and Jungkook. Funny ones, cute ones (like that selfie of you two with Yuna and Jimin’s baby girl when you were babysitting) and even weird, random ones (like that photo of your boyfriend biting your toes).
There’s also a montage of all the food you’ve eaten and drank, all the places you’ve visited, all the holidays and special events you’ve celebrated with each other. All of these images and clips documenting the whole course of your relationship, showing the growth and the evolution, making you realize how much you’ve both blossomed. Several haircuts and colors, several seasons and holidays later and here you both are, stronger than ever, completely in love and committed with each other.
Around you, time stands still. And as you’re watching this with your mouth agog, the only thing you can feel is your heart racing in your chest, so profound that your trembling hands start to round your lips, covering it from dropping further.
Your eyes are starting to moisten at your romantic moments together, at the simple outtakes of Jungkook kissing the back of your hand during drives, of him turning around, looking at you with doe eyes and flashing a smile whenever you call him ‘lover’, at your candid moments together like when you two are just sitting on your couch, laughing maniacally or screaming feverishly while playing Jenga or Call of Duty and at your comical moments together where he catches your priceless reactions on camera.
And when the video of you and Jungkook slow dancing in the kitchen during the first night that you moved in with him appears on screen, your tears begin to heavily trickle down your cheeks. The background music he selected to overlay for that clip doesn’t help either because it just made you weep even more—Perfect. It’s not Ed Sheeran singing though. It’s Jungkook.
In that video, you’re still pulling some books out from boxes. He then came to embrace you from behind, started to trail languid kisses on your shoulder blades before you turned to face him. He held your hands and said that you two should take a break from unpacking for a bit.
You could see in the clip the way you grinned at him when he lifted your hand and twirled you round, with his shirt as your dress, before you started to sway with each other. You could see the way he wrinkled his nose adorably and giggled before he dove in for a kiss while you were dancing with no music on.
You could see the way you both stared at one another, admiring your features, both your irises whispering and saying with every blink that you’ll always have each other’s backs, you’ll always protect each other and you’ll always cherish moments like these with one another. Most of all, you could see how he’s wonderfully in love with you like the way you are with him.
The film ends and fades into nothing and you look at him with parted lips, your fingers shaking and your capability to form words all gone because Jungkook is holding an open tiny black box with a ring inside, radiantly glimmering.
“Surprise,” he says, voice breathy and soft.
Oh my God, is the only thing that’s going through your head.
“Y/N,” he begins after exhaling a sharp breath. “You might not have been in my past just like how I wasn’t in yours but that doesn’t matter because we’re in each other’s presents now and I can’t thank you enough for all the happiness and love that you have given, taught and showed me throughout the course of our relationship. You’re beautiful and kind and funny and smart. You’re just the best person I know and to me, you’re the one so… Y/N L/N, will you let me be your future?”
Excitedly, you tell him yes, nodding a million times. You cup his cheeks for a kiss, your hearts at the apex of heaven before they burst into fireworks, creating solar flares and birthing new stars in the sky. You proclaim that you love him so much after you both pull away from the kiss.
He slips the ring on your finger where it would find its permanent home. It’s a piece of his promise and a piece of yours too that creates one whole commitment from the both of you, a commitment that would be for life.
He wipes your tears with the pads of his thumb and you do the same to him. Pressing his forehead against yours, you both savor this moment—this exact moment of stillness where both of your hearts and souls have decided to spend the rest of their lives together.
“I love you three thousand,” Jungkook professes and you both chuckle gleefully.
Still stunned and unable to get over the fact that you were completely oblivious, you think damn, Jeon Jungkook sure as hell knows how to catch a woman off guard. He sure as hell knows how to prepare the most unexpected and romantic proposal and then make a woman’s heart jump out of her chest and skyrocket to outer space, shouting ‘hell yeah’ as it orbits the moon, the planets and all the galaxies.
What you thought would be just a simple movie night consisting of cuddles and kisses turned into something more. It turned out to be one of the most important days of your life where you’re expected to make a decision.
And after seeing him bring out that black box and asking you that important question, it dawns on you that it is also the simplest and easiest decision you’ve had to make in your whole life. It’s because he’s the one.
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Tonight, you are not the maid of honor. You’re not the one who lifted the bride’s long trail and assisted her, who waited for the bouquet to be thrown, who proposed a toast during the reception. Instead, you were the one that people watched, the one who married your true love, your last love and your constant love. You were the radiant bride who said ‘I do’ to the man who constantly brings your heart into a state of happiness and contentment.
As you stand beside Jungkook, preparing to enter the venue of the reception, you look at him and can’t help but beam excitedly at the fact that you’re officially married and the fact that today marks the first day of the rest of your lives. Yes, marriage is a huge commitment and you’ve always thought of it as something terrifying but you realized that as long as you’re with the right person, it doesn’t matter because you’re ready to face the crazy, the uncertain, the daunting, the emotional, the difficult and easy days with him.
Inside the venue, the host with blue hair and deep dimples commences his introduction. “Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you—Mr. and Mrs. Jeon Jungkook!”
You hold out your hand in front of your partner for life. “Ready, babe?”
Jungkook nods with a big, toothy grin, linking his fingers with yours. “Let’s get this bread!”
1K notes · View notes
taegularities · a month ago
Text
bliss | jjk (m)
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Summary: Jungkook really, really wants to show you how deeply in love with you he is.
pairing: dilf!Jungkook x female reader
rating: 18+
genre: established relationship; so much fluff woah, smut
warnings: domesticity <3, married couple, pierced and tattooed jk, the green vlive pajama, cute banter, mention of a c-section, their cute daughter whom he loves to bits, they joke around and jk is sO CUTE; explicit sexual content: oral (m.), fingering, dom!jk, big dick!jk, kissing, biting, marking, praising, soft sex turning rough sex, dirty talk, manhandling, impreg kink?, sweet nicknames (baby, princess, angel...), unprotected sex (reader on pill etc.), he likes her brattiness; ... they’re very much in love
word count: 3.7k
a/n: yeah, here’s the 38742th dilf!jk fic since that live, but i kinda went all domestic instead of focusing on the pjs 🙄 semi-edited with a low quality banner, but i hope you guys still enjoy :D <3
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MASTERLIST | WIPs
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“Okay, baby. High five first?”
When you stepped out of the shower a moment ago, you could already hear Jungkook’s voice chime from Jinha’s room, quiet and soft and everloving. Your husband always had this strange habit of presenting himself stronger and colder than he had to with you, and you always poked fun at him for it.
But the moment he first laid eyes on your little girl, screaming from the top of her lungs and hands clenched into tiny fists, all armour fell off his body. You think you can still remember the way he melted, eyes cracking and tears falling, vulnerable like you hadn’t ever seen him before.
Even after eleven months, the effect seems to linger, his smile never fading. Sometimes, you catch him sitting in front of her crib, initially taking a seat to lull her to sleep but then staying even after she’s slipped into a peaceful slumber. He becomes lost in her fast, watching her with such tenderness that you, too, feel your heart thaw on the worst days.
Jinha holds onto her light blue blanket, shooting him a toothless smile as she stretches her minuscule hand towards his large palm.
“Yes! And now say… Dada.”
You laugh as you stand at the door frame, the bathrobe catching the water drops from your hair as you shake your head. Unsurprisingly, Jinha only coos, letting out a high-pitched, amused laugh as her eyes shape little moons.
“She always does that,” Jungkook whines in frustration, watching her tug at his hand through the grid, “I think she finds that word funny. Hold on… Jinha, baby… Dada.”
And again, she only laughs, eyes gazing at you for a moment as you giggle with her before she stares at her father again. He only urges her further, but your daughter can’t be bothered, her focus settling on his tattoos and tracing the faded lines in fascination.
She loves his inked skin more than you do, always glancing back and forth from his to her own hand and looking at him in confusion when she finds her flesh clean of any added colour.
“C’mon. Let her sleep and come to bed,” you tell him, stepping closer before ruffling his dark hair in affection. He’s cut it now, much to your pleasure as you can’t even remember the last time you saw him with hair this short. He sighs deeply, performing lip bubbles before he stands and pulls Jinha into his embrace to sway her to sleep.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” he says, pressing his cheek against her hair lightly as she clutches the fabric of his new pajama into her baby fist.
You walk to your room with a yawn, your back hitting the mattress with a light thump before you begin to scroll on social media for a while. You’ve gotten used to falling asleep in his arms, and even with exhaustion falling over you like a cloak, you can’t drift into dreamland without him by your side.
For some time, you still hear the warm timbre of his voice as he sings your baby to sleep, humming a melody he knows she loves; one he used to croon when you were pregnant with her, too.
If you remember correctly, he sang this exact song even when you were only dating, your eyes sometimes opening in the morning to hear him chant away obliviously. And as he enters your room with tardy steps, he’s still singing the lovely melody of your song, smiling at you the moment he sees you before closing the door behind him.
You put your phone on your bedside table the second his knees hit the bed, his form crawling to you slowly as a telling smirk creeps upon his face. “Hi, sexy lady. How are we today?”
“We’re uh... sexy?” you inquire with a tilted head, making him chuckle as he hovers over your body, “But not as sexy as you are.” You poke his bare chest, eyes rolling at the fact that Jungkook has seemingly forgotten how to button shirts. “What’s that pajama? It’s new, right?”
“Uhm, I bought it last month. With you, don’t you remember?”
You don’t. But you also do not care as your fingers open his shirt slowly. It’s dark green, harmless at first glance but giving way to much more when you look closely. And in that sense, it really isn’t your fault that your mind’s going haywire, thinking of various things that are in no shape or form innocent.
“And it’s see-through, too?” you whisper, letting him remove a wet hair strand from your face as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses on your cheek. “What, are you trying to kill me? I can see your underwear.”
“You’ve seen so much more, baby, why so surprised by some underwear now?”
You shrug your shoulders, closing your eyes with a sigh when his lips wander to your neck and erupt goosebumps on your skin. “Jungkook…”
“Yeah…”
“She’s asleep, right?”
“Mhm,” he hums quietly, teeth grazing your sensitive skin before he looks up and tells you, “She’s so beautiful, that little fairy. I want to say she was created by actual angels, but then I remember that she has your genes and was created by you.”
He pecks your lips briefly before you smile, telling him, “She has yours, too, you know? You were part of it, if I remember correctly. And you’re definitely the hot one between us.”
“Please,” he says with a scoff, hands moving down your body slowly and opening your bathrobe. He presses his form against you and you feel the semi hard bulge in his pants poke your leg. “You’re outrageously beautiful. And whatever you’re going to say, it’s not valid.”
“Now I know where Jinha gets her brattiness from,” you tease, ridding him of his shirt as his firm, golden chest comes to view. You trace the lines of his abs with your finger softly, only stopping when he urges you to arch your back to strip you as well.
“Says the one who begs me to tame her every time she’s under me, huh?”
His palm cups one of your tits and squeezes lightly, making you let out a small whimper that he catches with his lips just in time. Eager and impatient, his tongue seeks yours immediately, toying with the inside of your mouth while his hands wander down to your clothed core.
You wrap your arms around his torso, palms brushing the muscles of his back as lewd kissing sounds fill the air around you. Making out with him is always messy in a way that’s still sexy, never awkwardly sloppy or disgustingly involving too much saliva. Jungkook seems to be amazing at everything, and sometimes, you even tease him by telling him you might’ve only fallen for him because of his skills in bed.
“Baby,” you mumble when he shifts his attention to your neck again, pressing open mouthed kisses against it accompanied by breathy moans, “Want you…”
“What do you want?” he asks, his tattooed hand slipping under your panties and fingers caressing your bundle of nerves. “Come on… use your words, will you?”
“I want to suck you,” you admit, trying hard to stay quiet for the sake of your daughter’s sleep, “and then I want you to fuck me.”
Jungkook’s thumb skims the scar of the C-section lightly and affectionately, his touches and words having long convinced you that as a part of you, it is beautiful, too. Despite any struggle, it reminds you of the angelic presence in the next room, and for her, nothing ever feels too hard or too painful.
“And you think,” he whispers against your cheek, watching your eyelids flutter shut in pleasure, “just because you’re asking so sweet, I’ll let you?”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough.” He laughs a little, flashing his teeth in your direction as he gives you a chaste kiss.
But the way he pushes down his pants and underwear, his cock springing against his stomach hard and ready, is anything but harmless, all chastity vanishing when you detect the shimmer leaking from his tip. He manages to make you drool every time; and just like always, you lift your body within a moment, lips already agape as you stare at what’s yours.
He inches closer to you, pointing at your panties as he says, “Before you suck, I want you to take this off.”
“I can do that lat-”
“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head before he repeats, “Take it off now.”
You roll your eyes with a grunt - but you soon realise your mistake, a surprised gasp leaving you when his hand settles in your wet hair and pulls your head back somewhat harshly. “What were you saying about me being a brat, hm?”
And with that single, menacing warning, your hands remove the last garment on your body diligently, eyes trailing up and down his body before halting at his veiny hand pumping his large length slowly. Watching him touch himself has always been a weak point for you for some unknown reason, and you know exactly he’s twisting his wrist entirely on purpose, fully aware that you’re observing his actions.
When you’ve thrown your panties from the bed haphazardly, he moves even closer, his cock adorned with protruding veins standing right in front of your mouth - thick, long, twitching just for you.
“Open your mouth for me, baby,” he orders. He taps your tongue with his cock twice as you oblige, smirking before he says, “And now you can suck.”
You nod almost as if to say thank you for his permission, twirling your tongue around his head and tasting his cum without ever breaking eye contact. Not one to wait long, you dig your hands into his strong thighs, wrapping your lips around his cock before taking as much of it as your throat allows.
Which is never his entire length, considering the fact that he’s blessed with this enormous and proud cock that wrecks you each time anew.
As you feel him harden impossibly deep inside you, your tongue plays with the skin of his member, one hand settling at the base to pump where your mouth can’t reach. You’re basically French kissing his dick with the way you’re dragging your mouth back and forth, your tongue always active and covering him in your saliva further.
“Fuck, yes, Y/N, this is good, this is perfect… keep going, oh god…” he praises, tugging at your hair as you continue your movements. “Yes, wet my cock for your pussy, baby, just like you always do…”
Jungkook feels electricity buzzing through his body as he throws his head back, still barely believing that his wife is good enough at this to make him cum just by blowing him for a few minutes. But you know his body well, and when you feel him sneak closer to his release, his balls under your palm tightening as he moans lustfully and low-pitched, you back away.
You keep him on the edge yet again, knowing that he fucks you especially well when he’s experienced a near orgasm at least once. His breathing is already hitching and stagnant, lungs screaming for air as he watches you drool with dilated pupils in front of his cock.
“My little brat,” he teases as he pushes you back against the mattress, watching your tits bounce at the impact with wide, darkened eyes, “you’ve such a big mouth, but you know exactly how to use it, right?”
“Of course,” you say proudly, grabbing the sheets underneath you as you watch him position himself in anticipation, “And no one will do it as well as I do.”
“Cocky much? Do I need to fuck this attitude out of you?”
You want to remark something cheeky, but with one single movement, he renders you speechless. Because how could you possibly concentrate when he brushes the fingers of both his hands through his hair, freeing his forehead as his bicep bulges and flexes deliciously like that?
Thoughts of these strong arms holding you in place as he fucks you into oblivion flood your brain, your pussy leaking and walls clenching around nothing as you beg, “Fuck me. Please. Now.”
He smirks at you smugly as he brings his hand down, slipping two fingers into your hungry cunt without a warning as he raises his pierced eyebrow. “Patience, grasshopper.”
You throw your head back and cry out his name in the same erotic way Jungkook adores; and when he fingerfucks you slightly harder, you open your eyes to meet his, waterline wet and your stare demanding more.
He always wants you to be patient. It’s a virtue, he keeps praising. But of course only when it suits him - when you’re baking his favourite brownies, he’s always the first to pout and fold his arms, only lighting up when he gets the first taste, even before Jinha. But in bed…
“Shut up, just fuck me,” you demand, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him closer in frustration. And it seems as if he’s more than keen to finally give it to you, too. Because right in the next moment, he brings his cock to your entrance, sliding it up and down slowly and rubbing it against your clit deliberately to drive you crazy.
“Ready then?” he asks, licking his lower lip before capturing it between his teeth.
You nod wildly, kneading your tits under his fucked out gaze as you say, “Always, baby, just please...”
And then, he finally gives in, only his tip slithering in at first as he watches you gasp and squirm. He grips your waist tightly as he leans down and presses his lips against yours, gliding in slowly as he always does, so you can get used to his length.
Even after bearing a whole human being and fucking Jungkook uncountable times, his cock never fails to surprise you with its size and thickness. While your pussy always sucks him in like you’ve been deprived of sex for months, the stretch and sting feel new each time Jungkook and you sleep together.
“Are you okay, my baby?” he asks as he bottoms out and buries himself to the hilt, breathing heavily as a thin sheen of sweat forms on his forehead and clavicles.
“Yes, K-Koo, I’m…” You move your hips to urge him to move, eyes rolling back in your sockets before you feel his lips kiss yours fervently.
And then, he presses his body against yours, hips moving in and out slowly. He kisses you like a man starved, like he’s never had a sweet taste of you before. Grunts accompany his movements, both your bodies sweating against each other’s and leaving no doubt that you’ll have to take a shower right after he’s done with you again.
“More? Faster, harder? Jus- just like that?” he asks you, always one to read every wish from your lips, your pleasure first and foremost the most important thing when you have sex.
“Faster, baby…” you plead, your hands wandering from his back down to his ass and nails digging into the flesh of his strong ass cheeks.
“I knew it,” he utters against your lips, a lop-sided grin adorning his face before he grabs your waist tightly enough to leave bruises. “You’re always so… ready… never tired of my cock, are you?”
Without another word, his hips pull back and then slam in harshly, your body moving back on the mattress and almost hitting the headboard. You’re barely able to whisper another yes before he begins to wreck your insides entirely, snapping his body back and forth as the volume of your voice raises.
“Wanna pump all my cum into you,” he breathes against your ear, fucking you relentlessly as the curve of his cock hits the perfect spots. “Gonna fill you up. Want more babies with you…”
Despite the haziness and naughtiness of the situation, you manage to let out a small laugh, telling him carefully, “I’m on the… pill, baby…”
“So what? One day you- you won’t be,” he argues, chuckling with you but managing only so much before you both moan again. Your walls engulf his throbbing length perfectly, wrapping around it snugly as he rubs it against them with each merciless thrust.
“One day I want more,” Jungkook continues, the thought of seeing your tummy growing turning him on to no end. “With you… A whole fa-”
He growls for a moment as you clench around him, hands leaving your waist and fingers intertwining with yours instead. Raising your arms above your head, he clings onto your hands until his knuckles turn white, lips agape and eyes staring at you with endless fondness while he fucks you wound.
“Whole family with you, my angel,” he finishes his sentence eventually. One hand encloses both your wrists over your head, the other sneaking its way between you to rub against your clit in fast circles as he watches you lose your mind.
You let out a near-scream that he silences with another ardent kiss, stopping the blood flow in your hands as you dig your fingernails into your palms. And in the next moment, you come with a shrill yell, biting at his plush lower lip with furrowed eyebrows as your orgasm washes over you in overwhelmingly satisfying waves.
“Yes, that’s it… god, you’re so fucking hot, I- do not,” Jungkook stutters, his sharp thrusts accompanying his struggle with words as he nears his high, too. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re one to talk…” you reply as exhaustion crawls its way into your body, eyes falling shut as you let him work towards his orgasm.
His hips begin to stutter soon, and you can vividly imagine the way his ass clenches every time he buries himself deep inside you. The way your walls still pulsate around him helps him to tumble over the edge easily, deep, intoxicating moans slipping off his tongue as he watches your hands lose their colour.
As he lets them go, he presses you against the mattress further, mumbling just one word, “Hair…”
Instantly, you understand, swiftly lifting your head and swiping your hair to one side, so he can nuzzle it or bite as he pleases. And so he does, body slumping onto yours and crushing you as he shoots his cum into you ultimately.
His moans drive you crazy enough to mewl with him despite having reached your high already, and when he hears you, his sounds become raucous and uncontrolled. He licks a random stripe along your neck before he bites into your shoulder, his hands roaming your body and indicating his obsession with you the way they always do.
“Beast,” you whisper when he stills and tries to catch his breath. He laughs hoarsely against your shoulder, kissing it tenderly before he pulls out his softened cock. You whimper as he hisses, the emptiness leaving you feeling wound and with a slight ache.
You know you won’t be able to stand at one spot for too long tomorrow without feeling what he did to you the night before.
Before you can feel his cum leak out of you again, he leaves the bed hastily, pulling you into his arms and carrying you to the shower bridal style as he’s done a thousand times before. And then, you spend the next twenty minutes giggling and joking, his hands cleaning you up thoroughly and basking in the post-coital afterglow he’s brought you.
These moments always feel exactly the same as they did back in college when you started dating. Even in the beginning of your relationship, Jungkook had always taken care of you in every way possible and you always felt like you could never thank him appropriately ever, no matter what you did.
You told him - multiple times even, resulting in him assuring you over and over again that your existence alone was more than enough. And you still remember his words through teary eyes when he held teeny tiny Jinha in his bulky arms for the first time, promising you that “I will never be able to give you back as much as you’ve just given me, Y/N.”
You hear a small voice call out to you through cries when you step out of the shower, hitting Jungkook’s shoulder playfully as you say, “You woke her up.”
“What, I did?” he asks back, pointing to his now clothed chest as he looks at you in your bed. “You were the one screaming for more and laughing.”
“And you were the one making me scream for more and laugh. Shoo!”
Your husband rolls his eyes in annoyance before he stands with an exasperated grunt, looking at you in warning jokingly as he exits the room.
Only a few moments later, however, he comes back, patting Jinha’s back softly as he rocks her back into sleep. With every shake of his body, she coos, her voice vibrating as Jungkook looks at you in amusement. He’s clearly holding in a laugh as he listens to your daughter’s little game - apparently, she thinks he’s playing with her.
But when he lays down with her beside you, you see the tiredness in her eyes, her lips smacking and small fingers rubbing her face. When she recognises you, she stares for only a fleeting moment before she yawns. You hum quietly as you sing her to sleep, hands caressing her back as Jungkook watches you in endearment.
He knows he has to bring her back to her bed soon, but this time, he doesn’t complain. How could he with the magical sight right in front of him?
As he brushes aside your newly wet hair, he smiles at you fondly, staring deep into your eyes as his lips form a silent, “I love you”.
You understand and he knows you do, but still, he repeats, now whispering, “I love you, princess. My pretty babies.”
He leans forward to kiss your nose and Jinha’s temple softly, the picture of your little family painting in his mind from a third perspective as he realises that he will never tire from the euphoria you bring him every single second of the day.
With the perfection right in front of his eyes, he’d be stupid to anyway.
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idk, the vlive affected me so much :/ hsdafsaf but yeah, thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed this very self indulgent fic !!
if you did, please leave a like, reblog and/or send me an ask to support me further !! :D i really appreciate your feedback and interacting with you <3
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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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