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sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 7.5k

chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name

There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.

This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.

Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.

This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.

As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.

“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.

“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.

“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.

“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.

“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.

Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.

If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.

They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.

And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.

Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.

He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.

Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.

“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.

Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.

Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.

“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”

“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”

“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”

Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”

“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”

“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”

“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”

“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”

“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”

You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.

Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.

“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”

“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”

“Fine, I—”

“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.

“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.

In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.

There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”

You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.

“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”

Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”

“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.

“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”

“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.

Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.

It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”

It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.

You and Jungkook had been broken up for almost two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was over two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.

You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.

And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).

You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.

“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”

Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.

You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.

“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.

Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”

“Okay. Who else?”

“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”

The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.

“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”

“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice—both Sid and Jude worked for their families, which really meant that they got paid to occasionally show up at the shareholders’ meetings on behalf of their parents. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”

“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”

He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”

“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”

“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”

“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And some nights in London, depending on our flight time,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”

None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.

Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.

You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).

Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.

“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”

“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”

You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.

“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”

Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.

You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.

Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.

When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.

He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.

The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.

He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.

“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”

Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.

The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.

It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.

Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”

He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.

He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.

Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.

Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.

“Look who—”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”

“I don’t hear running water.”

He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I can drive myself—”

“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”

He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”

“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”

“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”

“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”

“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”

“Hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.

Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.

His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.

He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.

“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”

Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.

As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.

He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.

He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.

“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”

“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”

“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.

“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”

Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.

By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.

And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.

Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.

Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.

Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.

However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.

And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.

You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.

Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.

“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.

“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.

“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”

You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.

“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.

His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.

“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”

His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”

“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”

He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”

You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”

“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”

“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”

You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.

Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.

“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”

He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”

“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.

“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”

He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.

You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.

Maybe he really would be fine tonight.

And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.

“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.

“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”

“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”

Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.

And there was nothing he’d tell them now.

It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.

“I would. That’s why I asked,�� Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”

Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.

“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”

Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.

“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.

“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”

Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.

Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”

“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”

Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.

“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”

“I don’t have a crush—”

Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”

Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why—why would I even—why—”

“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”

“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”

“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.

“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.

“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.

“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”

“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”

“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”

“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”

“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”

Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.

“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”

“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.

Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.

He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.

“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”

That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.

“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”

“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”

There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.

This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”

Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”

He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.

“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.

“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.

“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”

Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.

“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”

“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”

In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.

“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”

Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.

Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.

“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”

chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”

special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜

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[fallonskpopcorner]

admiring from afar

characters: jeon jungkook x female reader.

summary: you owed a friend a favour, a favour which entailed a blind date. but the catch, it was only blind on your side.

genre/rating: strangers to lovers au (?), blind date au with a lil angst. a lil fluff. and a lot of smut (minors do not interact). 18+

word count: 10.1k

warnings: very awkward first encounter, jk is slightly obsessed, mentions of heartbreak and insecurities, oh so v dramatic, mature language, a lil cheesy romance, and very passionate sex. smut warnings (18+): body worship, slight dom/sub dynamics, soft dom!jk, oral (fem and male recieving), fingering, so much praise, dirty talk, very intimate, lots of kissing, biting/marking, overstimulation, protected sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, power play, manhandling, needy!jk, lots of cum, and aftercare <3

a/n: hi. a quick backstory, i used to write on here. but lost inspiration. and now i am back, with new inspiration. i have been army for fourteen months now (a lil baby), and i want to start writing again. i didn’t mean for it to be this long btw. anyways, i hope you like this but lmk! feedback is always appreciated. i really wanna interact and get to know people on here :) disclaimer: i am not a professional writer by any means, so this is no shakespeare masterpiece. but it’s something lmao.

So maybe it was just a tiny bit awkward, which was not entirely your fault. Blind dates weren’t your forte per se. And clearly, they were not his either.

Exactly three minutes and thirty-two seconds had passed since you sat across from the mysterious man. The number was oddly specific because the nerves had you checking your wrist every two seconds.

What had you so nervous in the first place? It could be the fact you were seventeen minutes late. Or maybe that the dress code for this date had been lost in translation. Or the fact you can't remember the last time you were on a proper date.

No, you were nervous because you were sat across from, possibly, the most beautiful man on the planet. His aura radiated confidence, power and prowess. If you were watching an animal planet documentary, he would be on the top of the food chain. The apex predator.

It was intimidating. You sat on the uncomfortable wooden stool, allowing his dark eyes to consume you. At first glance, they had seemed innocent as if they belonged to a child. It was the first thing you had noticed about the man. However, just as a kid, the initial curiosity had settled. They had been judging you, sizing you up.

They had explored your appearance and features, before glancing at his own watch. Evidently, not pleased with your tardiness. His eyelids relaxed, covering the whites of his piercing gaze. You had weakly smiled at the gesture, offering an apology as you hesitantly took a seat.

Your hands had immediately found a home on your lap, intertwined and sweaty. This had not been the plan for the first interaction. It felt as though you were in the principal's office. Your index finger and thumb pinched your dress as you began to rethink and regret every decision.

You wore a simple mid-length black dress, that hugged your body. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but, before the date, you had googled the location, information that your friend kindly shared. It was a small bar, off the beaten track, hidden in a corner of the buzzing city. A den of sorts. You had thought it was a speakeasy.

Your company for the evening had decided on a much more casual outfit. Denim jeans and a black oversized shirt. You noticed a black leather jacket on the stool next to him, a packet of cigarettes peeking out from the pocket. A tattooed hand caressed a glass of whiskey on the small oak table. Why was he so frightening in this setting?

The bar was quiet. Three other couples and a few stranglers occupied the cosy setting. Your eyes quickly surveyed the area, mapping out a safe escape. Like you were cornered prey.

You don’t know if it was the flames that were ablaze in the fireplace, but the temperature had grown exponentially causing the light makeup to become dewy in the lowly lit room. Lips were dry as you tried to find the words to finally break the silence.

The man silently watched your struggle, enjoying the way you were melting beneath his gaze. He wasn’t a cruel man, but he found it amusing that he had this effect on you. A total stranger.

“Are you okay? You aren’t sick are you?” He teased with a slight smirk appearing across his face, which he graciously hid by raising the glass to his lips.

Your heart snapped, chest tightening. This was utterly embarrassing. “No.” You muttered, ripping the cropped jacket from your body. “Just very hot in here.” His tongue poked at his cheek concealing the smile. His action made the room a thousand times hotter.

“A red wine for the lady.”

Startled, you twisted your body to face the intruder. “I was told that was your go to.” You heard the stupidly handsome man say, as you thanked the bartender who placed the drink in front of you.

“Um, yeah. That was very kind of you. Thank you.” The end of your sentence drifting off into the humid air as you were reminded that you had no idea who he was.

“Jungkook.”

You shyly nodded, as if you were being scalded for not answering a question right. Fuck, this was pathetic. Grabbing the wine glass, you took a gulp. Not very ‘lady-like’, but liquid courage was needed if you were to continue to look this man in the eye.

“Y/N” you answered, wiping the red stain from your lips.

He chuckled at the action. Which for some unknown reason, he thought was cute. But nothing was cute about this scenario.

He had anxiously waited nearly twenty minutes for your arrival. Fingers tapping his empty whiskey glass, silently praying you would show up. He may have had one or two before you arrived, trying to calm his own nerves.

His older friend, Namjoon, had mentioned you multiple times. Telling stories of your shared college years and your friendship. He painted you out to be this outgoing, caring, and smart woman. How if he was ever in trouble, you’d be the person he’d call. Mature, reliable, and loyal. All these attributes were what Jungkook desired in a partner. What he needed.

Admittiedly, Jungkook was lost. His life had been a struggle. He hadn’t found his place in the world yet. But slowly and surely, he could feel himself getting there. Finding himself amongst the masses. And this was his chance.

When Namjoon mentioned you had thought about dating again, Jungkook practically begged him to set up the date. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had been admiring you from afar.

Everything he had learned about you from Namjoon had solidified his interest in you. From your hobbies to your habits. You weren’t a stranger to him. He wasn’t a creep or a stalker. But when your name was mentioned in conversation, his ears perked. Absorbing every minor detail.

The second your frame appeared through the door, Jungkook’s heart plummeted to his stomach. If he was hooked to a monitor, it would’ve flatlined. Completely, entirely beautiful. Jungkook had seen photos of you with Namjoon, at a party or a gathering. But he swore, as cheesy as it sounded, they did you no justice.

But because Jungkook was still a boy a heart, he thought the best way to approach this date was to act cool and reserved. Thus, he mentally slapped himself, gathering composure as you entered the bar and walked towards him.

So the evident awkward atmosphere was also partially his fault.

“Namjoon has mentioned you before” you chirped, distracting Jungkook from the internal beating he was giving himself.

“Oh yeah? Only good things I hope” Jungkook cringed, wanting to slam his face against the table. Jin and his Dad jokes had subconsciously infiltrated his brain.

You giggled causing his ears to ring. Was he dying? If so, an angel sat before him, radiating the kindest, warmest smile he had ever experienced. He wanted to record that moment and put it on a loop for eternity.

The sudden change in Jungkook’s behaviour helped you regain some composure. The hard exterior was slowly breaking in front of you.

Namjoon had forced you onto this blind date. Claiming this guy would be your type. And also pointing out that you owed him for the countless calls he had to endure after your not-so-gracious breakup. Which you had countered by saying ‘that is what friends are supposed to do’ to which he argued ‘the amount of times he had carry you home after a drunken night was excessive’.

Maybe not your finest moment. But your ex had blindsided you, abruptly announcing he wasn’t in love with you anymore.

Namjoon has told you nothing about who you were meeting. Just that he was a friend. But you didn’t know it was that friend.

“Well, he mentioned that you are a bit, um, wild” you admitted, biting your lip as you avoided his stare. Shit, how long have you been running from eye contact at this stage?

Let’s say, Namjoon had once or twice, talked about his dismay regarding his younger friend's actions. His reckless behaviour was not appealing to his friend. They had shared an apartment for exactly twelve months before Namjoon called quits.

Jungkook’s eyes bulged at the discovery that his friend had shit-talked him to his crush. Sighing, his hand swooped through his hair as he concluded that this date was doomed. His chance disappearing before him.

“But” you continued. “He also mentioned how hard-working and determined you are. That you don’t turn away at the first obstacle. Which is admirable.”

Your eyes and his lock. The once intimidating gaze had disappeared, a softer, hopeful one replacing it. You were slightly confused.

“I am still trying to figure it all out honestly.” He spoke, nearly whispering the sentence as if he was ashamed. “I just want to try everything, give everything my all before I decide whether it’s what I want or not. I wouldn’t say that is admirable.” He clarified, chuckling as to mask his anxiety.

Why, of all people, did he think you were the person to expose his deepest feelings? Probably the alcohol. Easiest thing to blame.

“It tells me a lot about the kind of person you are.”

Silence. Jungkook didn’t know what to make of your comment. Was that a good thing? Did you like that kind of person? Absorbed in his thoughts, he stiffened. The awkwardness returning. You grabbed your glass of wine, taking a final sip.

“I am sorry Jungkook, but this doesn’t seem like it’s going to work.”

Shattered, his skin turned pale. A disaster. He couldn’t even spark your interest for longer than thirty minutes. Hesitant, he nodded, chugging down the remains of his own drink.

“No need to apologise Y/N. It was worth a shot” he smiled, trying to hide the heartbreak. He really did think he had a fighting chance. To win over the girl of his dreams.

“Let me walk you home, it is late. Namjoon would kill me if he found out I left you out there by yourself.”

“Thank you, but I only live five minutes away. I will be fine—“

“Please, I insist.”

You debated, maybe it was a bit late to be walking home alone. “If you are sure.”

Jungkook immediately grabbed his jacket, throwing it around his broad frame before gathering your bag and jacket, handing them to you. “Let’s go.”

Thanking him, you wrapped yourself in the light material, clutching the bag as you began to follow him to the exit.

Why did you end the date? Because you could feel him breaking your heart already. He was genuine. Too precious for you. He would promise you the world, and you would take it. But was that fair? No.

You realised, it was too soon. The cuts too deep to heal.

Some things in life are unfortunate, and they break people and leave them there to mend the pieces. You had let your insecurities win yet another mental battle in that moment. You didn’t deserve love. You couldn’t reciprocate it.

His figure cast a shadow on your fragile state as you left behind the possibility of starting over, leaving the warm bar behind and entering the dimly lit street. The cold breeze immediately attacked your skin, but the close proximity of Jungkook protected you from a full slaughter.

Jungkook stopped by the lamppost outside of the newly discovered hellhole, opting to light a cigarette to use the nicotine to ease his pain. A deep inhale allowed the mixture of chemicals to entire his system. He held for a few seconds, feeling the breath on his back copy his actions.

Exhaling, he turned to face you. “Where do you live?”

You blinked, completely forgetting that this man was practically a stranger. Comfort was found in his presence. “Yeah, sorry. Just follow me.”

And so he did. Step in step. He followed you along the quiet, darkened path.

As you began to walk under the rotten blossom trees, sudden ‘pitter patters’ reverberated off the dying leaves.

Just give me a break.

Removing the jacket from your body, you used it as a shield from the wet droplets. Jungkook did the same, using his leather jacket as an umbrella.

Once situated, you began to thread through the night. The path had brightened at the end of the blossom tunnel, and Jungkook’s eyes scanned your upper body. The small cropped jacket offered no protection. Your skin was littered with goosebumps due to the weather conditions.

Without thinking, Jungkook ran to your side, grazing you. He extended his arm, expanding the leather above your head. “Put your jacket back on, you’ll freeze.” He ordered.

Your cheeks dampened even though you were sheltered. Whispering gratitude, you tossed the jacket over your body, hugging yourself for comfort. Your head hung low, watching your feet drag against the floor.

“You don’t need to be kind to me. You shouldn’t.” You said whilst attempting to hide the cracks in your voice. But Jungkook’s eagle ears heard and that was the last straw.

Scanning the surroundings, he saw a porch sheltered by a cabana in the public playground. With a hand on the middle of your back, he guided you to it. You didn’t fight, just accepted it.

The downpour began to gain momentum as you picked up the pace. Once under the stable structure, you finally caved. Your tears flowed rapidly, matching the stream of rain. Cold and vulnerable.

The urge Jungkook felt to protect you, to engulf you, was animalistic. He couldn’t stop himself. He dropped his drenched jacket, wrapping his arms around you. And just like that, you were pulled into his chest, the warmth soothing some of the ache.

His posture softened to cradle you. Moulding himself to your delicate stature. It felt as though not a single inch of your skin was exposed.

He held you like that until your mind stopped racing and breathing slowed. With one last obnoxious sniffle, you unwillingly pried yourself from his body, pressing your hands against his forearms.

With the little courage you had, you looked up at him to offer yet another apology. But you were taken aback, thinking you’d meet the eyes of sympathetic man, yet all you saw was anger. Furrowed brows, a tight jaw with pursed lips.

“I am sorry—“

“Do not apologise. Are you okay? What happened?” Were the first words to leave his system.

Looking at the ground, you felt ashamed. You were supposed to have it all pieced together.

“Who did this to you?” He urged, pleading for you to open up.

“I did this to myself.” You snapped, not at him. At yourself. You pushed the wet strands of hair behind your ears, trying to make yourself a little more presentable.

In your peripheral, you saw a marble bench. Deciding your legs were too weak, exhausted from the exertion you just put your body through, you sat on the hard surface. Jungkook followed, squatting in front of you.

“If it’s any consolation, you look pretty, even when you cry”

“I don’t live far from here”

“Great, so we don’t have much further to walk in the rain” he whited.

Defeated and deflated, you sighed, looking at him with annoyance. He understood the suggestion behind your comment, however, he was not giving up on you just yet.

His knees were to his chest, arms folded neatly. The anger you once observed had dwindled into worry and sympathy. He knew that you were recently single, but didn’t know you were still recovering.

“Y/N” his voice softly echoed. “Talk to me, please. I know you don’t know me that well, but you should know I have cared about you for a while.”

He could immediately sense the change in your posture. “Not like that!” He rushed, not wanting you to feel threatened for a second in his presence. “Namjoon often talks about you. And he speaks so highly, admirably of you. Unfortunately, I can’t say he does the same about me.” He chuckles, in an attempt to ease the tension. Your features soften as you puff out a breath of air from your chest with a small smile.

“Anyways, I have been in awe of you. You sound like the purest person. The person that would be there through thick and thin. I don’t know why, but I gravitate towards you. I just want you all to myself. Tonight I wanted to prove to you that I am deserving of you. That’s why I asked Namjoon to set up this date. I wanted to prove to myself, that I deserve someone like you.” He sported a frown as he continued.

“But I have realised that I still have a lot of growing to do. That I am still immature. The way I acted on that date was stupid, and I am sorry. I was hoping the whole cold-hearted persona act would intrigue you. Foolish, but true.”

Perplexed, you just listened to him ramble. Trying to understand what was unfolding in front of you. He realised he was going off the beaten track, so he gathered himself by taking a slow breath.

“What I want to say, I do care. And I don’t want you in pain. I want you happy and healthy. Want to continue to blossom and bloom, even if I have to observe from afar. But, I- no sorry, you need to get over this obstacle to do so. And I am willing to help.”

Stunned. That is how you would describe yourself at this very moment. This not-so-stranger, had put the ball in your court. Gave you back the responsibility for your life. He didn’t take anything nor ask you for anything.

Although, minutes ago, you felt at your lowest, you were given the opportunity to overcome your hurt, your pain. And you were going to grasp it with two hands.

“Jungkook, I just feel so deflated. But you are right, this is my obstacle to climb. I have to stop feeling sorry for myself about the ‘what-ifs’. I can’t change the past, only heal and move on. And I am so sick of healing.’ You stated the facts. They were loud and clear. No more hiding. And you thought about your behaviour from the past twenty minutes and just laughed.

And you actually laughed. It was buried deep in you, but it lifted such a heavy weight off of you. If this man didn’t think you were crazy, he definitely did now.

To your surprise he joined in, crackling along with your insanity in that moment.

“A genuine laugh too? You are spoiling me now Y/N.”

You pushed his shoulder, rolling your eyes at his playfulness. You let the laughter die down before you decided to be bold. To finally choose you, not hide behind a world of pain any longer.

You placed a hand on top of his, engulfing it like he did with your body earlier. “I want your help.”

Jungkook froze for the umpteenth time that night. “Although I barely know you, I do know you’d be good for me. I just feel it and I can’t explain it. It might take me a while to accept it, but I deserve someone like you Jungkook.”

His mind must be deceiving him. He subtly pinched the skin on his arms, hoping you wouldn’t notice in case this was real. “And you deserve me and then some.”

Jungkook caved. His entire world collapsed around him. The evening took a one-eighty turn. He didn’t know how to respond, to hear the validation he craved. He was good enough.

Jungkook sprung to his feet, posture as straight as a pin as he ran his hand along his face, a smile erupting. Heavy breaths of air leaving his lungs as he processed your words. Mimicking his sudden movements, you rose to stand directly in front of him. Millimetres between your exhausted bodies.

Silence returned, but of a different kind. More like tension. Neither one of you knew what to do next. Both of you in shock from the unravelling that had just taken place in the children’s playground.

His eyes scanned your face, looking for something. A sign or signal. Something to help him determine his next move. Your eyes were like glass, their fragility reflecting in the moonlight. Cheeks wet, hair clumped and lip swollen. Although the scene was tragic, it was too much for the weakened man.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Taking the initiative, he gently cupped your elbows causing your bodies to collide. A warmth engulfing the new couple.

Your forearms raised ninety degrees, hands finding comfort on his waist. Your fingers gripped the dampened material, gazing into his eyes. Pleading for something. Anything.

The world stopped, faith or gravity or Namjoon, whatever overseeing power was at play, had brought you together in this moment. It felt as if this was written in the stars, like this was supposed always to happen.

You and Jungkook.

Time was slow, everything in slow motion as Jungkook inched closer to your face. His neck concaving to allow his lips to hover over yours. His hot breath on your skin added to the warmth, sparking a fire in the middle of the abandoned park.

His eyelids became heavy, partially shielding his magnetic eyes. His pink tongue poked from his tight lips, swiping it across his dry lips. The small piece of metal embedded near the corner of his lips caught your attention as the coldness grazed you, as if testing the waters.

Seconds passed while Jungkook waited for any signs of hesitation or a change in body language. Giving you the opportunity to leave. But nothing.

Your eyes were wide open when your lips finally collided, crashing together to add more fuel to the burning flames. It was surreal, the way it was gentle but rough all at once. His lips rested against yours with force. Squished together, praying that this was real.

Your eyes collapsed, fingers tightening against his shirt, pulling his hips closer. He reciprocated your need, his hands trailing to the middle of your back, spread wide as they guided you towards him.

Both of your minds were turned to mush, completely enthralled in the moment. In the kiss. Every naturally born instinct had malfunctioned, both of you losing your breath.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, still retaining the strong grip on his clothing. You focused on your breath, allowing your heartbeat to return to a normal pace. Your eyes remained closed, knowing that if you even looked at Jungkook you would hyperventilate.

Jungkook was hyperaware. His senses turned up to the maximum as if he were Spider-Man in the middle of a war. He could feel your heartbeat through his hands, gradually slowing down. His ears honing in on your irregular breaths, drowning out the sound of the continuous droplets of rain against the roof. Eyes consuming you, all of you. His tongue licked his own skin as he did, tasting the strawberry lip balm you applied to his. But it was the smell of your perfume that was turning him into a madman. It was too real.

Once you felt stable, you opened your eyes staring at his black shirt which was stretched tightly across his torso due to your grip. Realising you were probably ruining the elasticity of it, you let go. Jungkook followed suit, releasing his hold on you, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of denim jeans. He shifted his centre of gravity onto the ball of his feet.

“Sorry” he mumbled, tongue playing with the warmed metal in his lip.

“Please don’t be” you weakly begged. You didn’t want him to regret that moment. “That was nice.”

His eyebrow piercing perked. “Only nice?”

Your lips curled, cheeks heated. “Maybe a bit more than that.” You giggled, like a five year old girl who was admitting her crush.

Jungkook dipped down stealing a single kiss. A simple peck. “Definitely more than that.”

Your eyes shot up, finding the courage to meet the man’s enchanting gaze. Bringing a hand to his sharp jaw, your thumb caressed his cheek. “Yeah maybe.”

The whole situation was so gentle. Sweet and innocent. As if it was written in a novel about young love. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Jungkook, with the biggest smile on his face, grabbed your hand pulling you towards the waterfall that was falling at the edge of the cabana. He swiftly bent, grabbing his jacket off the floor, swooping it over your head. “Better keep up.” He playfully smirked.

And then, he starts jogging. You gasped, laughing as you tried to catch up, trying to limit the exposure to the rain. Grabbing his shirt, you slowed him down, allowing you to wrap an arm around his back. He looked down, adjusting the makeshift cover to ensure you were sheltered.

You both continued to run through the rain, guiding him by pointing your finger. No words were shared, just laughter.

You made it to your house in no time thanks to all the adrenaline that ran through your veins. Grabbing your keys from your purse, which you somehow didn’t lose through the entire rollercoaster, you opened the door, crossing the threshold. You shook your body like a dog, removing extra water droplets that had built up on your frame.

Jungkook remained outside, still holding his jacket above his head. Admiring how cute you looked. “You can come in.” You insisted, shifting your body to the side, giving him room to enter.

His cheeks hollowed, jaw tightened and Adam’s apple bobbed. Nervous. Slowly, he brought one foot across the threshold. His boba eyes evident as he soaked in your home. Once again, his inner child appeared. Carefully, the other foot crossed over, his body awkwardly turning to keep the sodden jacket outside.

“It’s gonna make a mess” he concluded as his efforts to try and remove some of the wetness rendered useless.

Your eyebrows furrowed trying to find a solution to the problem. “One second.”

Kicking off your shoes, you ran into the living room, grabbing an unused clothes hanger. Carrying it towards the entrance where Jungkook stood. His posture hilariously reminded you of those standing still memes. Pursing your lips, you tried to hide the laugh from escaping.

You extended the legs of the hanger, placing it above the mat at the front door. “You can leave it on there. Maybe it will dry a bit.”

He nodded, tossing the jacket onto the hanger, cringing when he saw the water droplets soak the mat underneath. “You can take off your shoes”

Jungkook gulped, his throat restricting. “Yeah, I will, uh, call a taxi. Should be here soon.”

“You don’t have to go so soon.” You tested, leaning against the wall. “Our first date went, well, not-so-great. But I want to make amends.”

“So soon?” He choked as he wasn’t expecting an invitation.

“Don’t want the night to end I guess.”

You turned away, walking towards the kitchen. Praying that he would follow. But you wanted to give him the opportunity to make his choice and not pressure him with your looming presence.

Grabbing two wins glasses from your cabinet, you hoped when you faced back towards the kitchen island, a figure would greet you. And your wish was granted.

“I don’t have any whiskey. I hope wine is okay?” You asked, as you grabbed an unopened bottle from the countertop.

“Thank you. Wine is perfect.”

Placing the bottle down, you grabbed a corkscrew from the cutlery drawer. Jungkook walked to the corner of the island placing a hand on the bottle. His free palm was extended flat towards you. “Let me.”

Handing him the bottle opener, he got to work removing the cork from the bottle. The veins in his arms flared as he twisted the screw, bottom lip tucked into his teeth. So domestic. So hot.

Fumes oozed from the longneck bottle as it popped, dragging you out of your thoughts. Eyes snapped towards the glasses to avoid getting caught. He tipped the bottle, allowing the red fluid to pour into the empty glass, creating thick waves in the confined space.

“Thank you Jungkook.”

“No thank you Y/N. Spoiling me. This looks like good wine.” He commented, not because he was a wine connoisseur, but because the label looked fancy.

“I only use it on special occasions.” You admitted, bringing the filled glass up to your lips.

Jungkook did the same, soaking up the view in front of him. Your pupils were tucked seductively behind your lids as you made eye contact with him. He couldn’t tell if it was on purpose.

You looked so pretty, so raw. Lips were swollen, skin puffy, clothes wet, and hair rustled. Jungkook was in awe. His mind wandering.

“Special huh. What makes this so special?”

“It’s like a new chapter I suppose. Drinking to a new beginning.” You shrugged, taking another sip.

Jungkook liked the sound of that. “To a new chapter.” He toasted, tipping his glass towards you.

Catching onto the memo, you clinked glasses. “To a new chapter.” You confirmed before joining Jungkook with a celebratory sip.

Resting the drink on the countertop, you finally took in your appearance from the reflection that was in the glass. “I look like a wet dog.”

“I have a dog. Bam.” Jungkook announced. “Doesn’t look like you when he gets wet. Would be nice if he did.”

You chuckled at his weird attempt at a compliment. “Thanks I guess.”

“No- no. I uh- I wasn’t comparing you to my dog. Nothing like that. Just trying to say you don’t look like a wet dog. You are much more breathtaking.”

Fuck. Why him? He was too good to be true. Too sweet. Like sugar. He would probably end up poisoning you, but right now, was too addicting.

You couldn’t stop what your body did next. Leaning forward to kiss him. It was a peck. But it had Jungkook turning into putty. Before you could go too far, his lips chased yours, crashing into them again. Not letting you slip away.

His arms caged you against the countertop, hands gripping the edge. Your hands fled to find safety on his chest. His lips started to move against yours. Working to find a slow, steady rhythm.

He couldn’t stop, you were too delicious. Your hands travelled further north, resting around his neck, fingers threading through his wet locks. Pulling him impossibly close. Nose pumping as you moved frantically wanting to devour him.

One of his hands moved to your hips, pulling you towards his own. Your back was curved into a c-shape as you moulded to his body. Things were getting messy, hands and bodies continuously colliding. The hand on your hip, slid under your thigh, pulling you up to sit you on the counter.

As you slid on the flat surface, you bumped one of the glasses. You gasped, closing your eyes waiting for the clashing sound. However, it never came, Jungkook’s fast reflexes preventing the fall. “Whoa, easy there.” He teased, settling the glass.

The near accident had broken the momentum. “Sorry, was eager.”

Jungkook shamelessly scanned your body, taking note of every detail. “Yeah? What has you so eager pretty girl?”

The question had you wanting to shrink. Shrivel into nothing. His demeanour overpowering you. You tucked your head into his chest, saving yourself the embarrassment. He caressed your hair, kissing the top of your head. You noticed how wet his shirt was as you leaned against it.

“You are soaked.”

“That’s supposed to be my line baby.” Jungkook smirked as you slapped his shoulder, pushing yourself off his chest.

“Such a playboy.” You groaned hoping down off the countertop. “You will get a cold. I will get you a change of clothes. Come on.”

And there is that caring woman Namjoon has mentioned. Jungkook followed you, into what he believed to be your room. You bent down to grab some oversized sweats causing Jungkook’s eyes to bulge from their sockets. Fuck.

“Here.” You said, extending your arm backwards to hand him the clean clothes. You continued to grab a pair for yourself, before straightening your posture.

“I’ll get changed in the bathroom.” You announced. “Actually, do you want to take a quick shower? To warm up?”

His jaw dropped. Your cheeks heated when you realised the innuendo that left your lips.

“I, fuck, not-“ “Will I be alone?”

He took a step forward, eyes burrowing into you. “Because I would be willing to take a shower if it’s with you.” He admitted, loving the effect he had on you.

Your words were stuck in your throat. Yes, you wanted to shower with him. But fuck, shower sex wasn’t the way you wanted to get the first taste of him.

Sensing your hesitation, Jungkook lowered his head, his lips fanning your ear. “Or I can think of another way to warm up.”

The whisper caused you to shiver, arms reaching out to grab the hem of his shirt. “Please.”

The beg was instinctive. It ticked off his biology, his primal need. Like a scavenger, he was ready to attack. His hands cupped your face, forehead resting against yours. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need me.”

Your eyes connected, radiating the need and want that resided within you. “All yours Jungkook. Please.”

You barely finished the sentence before his lips were on yours again. Lips dancing with one another, teeth clashing as he desperately tried to get closer. You were the first to slip in a tongue, wanting to taste the poisonous sugar. He groaned, hands slipping down to your hips.

Tongues battled as he began to walk backwards, pulling you along for the journey. His legs hit the bed, knees collapsing to sit him down on the mattress. Your body chased him, crawling onto his lap, lips never disconnecting. You cringed once you realised the wet clothes were ruining the sheets. Jungkook felt your nose crinkle against his. “What’s wrong. Tell me.”

“We are wet and my mattress.” You whimpered.

“Fuck you are so cute.” He pecked your lips. “We can solve that issue real fast baby.”

His fingertips grazed your calf, just below your dress. “Can I take this off?”

You shyly nodded, scooting closer to him, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. His fingers tucked under your dress, pulling it up over your knees. It snapped, jumping to your upper thigh. His lips connected with your clavicle, licking and sucking at the skin. The dress was pulled further north, his hands resting at your hips.

“I’m so lucky. Fuck. Baby, lift your arms for me.” He murmured against your skin.

Immediately you followed his order. In hindsight, it was a bit pathetic. You responded as if the words had come from a police officer. You could see an eyebrow quirk below you, his teeth grazing the abused skin before leaning back.

His hands pulled the bunched dress up your body, uttering praise as he did. “Such a good girl. A goddess. Look at how beautiful you are.”

You were left in your underwear, dress thrown onto the ground. He was still fully dressed making your stomach twist and turn. The power he had over you in that moment, you felt weak. Your fingers played with his wet shirt, avoiding eye contact once again.

“Why don’t you get me undressed baby. We don’t want the water to seep into the mattress.”

Letting your hands fall, you started with his belt. Letting the metal clank as you undid it. You bit your lip when you saw how his hardness was sitting straight and pretty against the wet denim. The tips of your skin grazed it. Shit.

He watched as your stomach tightened, hips jerked. “Got me so hard. You like it baby?” Eyes focusing on your covered centre. “Are your panties wet because of the rain?”

You whimpered causing his hips to thrust upwards. Fuck, you sounded so good. Too good. He couldn’t handle the strip tease any longer. He ripped the shirt from his body.

With his skin finally disclosed, his waist looked tiny compared to his shoulders. The temptation, the teasing, it was all too much. Jumping off his lap, you unbuttoned his jeans, frantically pulling them off his hips. He aided by lifting his hips.

Both of you stilled in your naked frames. Staring into each other’s eyes with hunger and greed. Jungkook scooted up the bed, moving away from the wet patch. His abs were contracted as he sat, pecks flexed as he patted his bare lap. “Come back to me baby. Let me take care of you. You deserve it.”

And you were not going to deny him. You crawled into the bed, as seductively as you could, and found your home on his lap. Lips tangling once again. His hands immediately gravitated to your hips, pulling them to his clothed cock.

The first touch had you both in a trance. You both let out moans of pleasure. It was so warm, so hard, so inviting. “You never answered my question. Are you panties wet because of the rain?” He repeated, guiding your hips against his.

“Yes.”

“Really? Are you lying to me pretty?”

“No.”

He smirked, moving one of his hands to your front. His fingers grazed your clit, a whine escaping your lips at the slight contact. A finger slipped the material to the side, dipping into the true source of the wetness. “Now why would you lie? That is not what a good girl would do.”

Your hips grind against the single finger, needing more friction. “Sorry. I was embarrassed. Please.”

“You promise you’ll be good. Good for me. Don’t I deserve that baby?”

“Only for you.” You stated.

Pleased with your answer, he flipped you onto your back. Lips exploring your neck as his hips continued to grind against you. Your knees were bent, toes curled. He hovered over you, one forearm rested against your head, a hand cupping your head. The other placed on your thigh, holding you close to him.

His lips travelled south, sucking and licking, his way down to his desired destination. Small purple marks littering your bare skin. He placed a delicate kiss on the top of your covered mound. Fingers curling around the band. He sat on his heels, lips swollen as he drowned in the picture below him.

“Look so beautiful.” He groaned, grabbing your left calf, lifting it up into the air to kiss the inner side. “No need to feel embarrassed around me, ever.” He placed your leg on his shoulder. “Fuck, you are so good to me. Got me so hard baby. So close to cumming, haven’t even gotten a taste.”

“Please Jungkook.”

“Yeah baby, I know.” He started to pull the material from your body. “Let me?”

You nodded, lifting your hips allowing him to remove them with ease. He admired the view, sitting patiently on his feet. Folds glistening and messy. He wanted to make them so much more messier. His thumb rubbed up and down the exposed heat, playing with his food. “I won’t be able to stop. Tell me what you like baby. Please.”

Your hips buckled against his skin. “Just want you. Want your tongue. Now, please.”

“So good. Keep using your words beautiful. Sound so perfect.”

Before you could respond, his head dipped between your legs. The hands on the underside of your knees kept you nice and wide for him. His tongue wasted no time, licking a wipe stripe along your slit before placing his lips on your aching clit.

He growled against it, vibrations sent through your body sending your hands flying to his hair. Gripping the curly locks as you prepared yourself. You could feel him smiling before his lips engulfed the bundle of nerves. A light suck had your back arching off the bed. His hands had to anchor you down by pushing on your hips.

You laid there, allowing Jungkook to devour you. Licking and sucking every inch of the silky folds. His tongue tested and tried every technique, flat, pointed, circling, flicking. Until he found the one that made you cry out. Using precise movements, he continued to eat. And he ate and ate until your body screamed out.

“Jungkook, I am going to cum. So close.”

Pausing for a moment, he propped himself higher on his elbows. “Tell me baby, what do you need. Want my fingers too?”

You couldn’t respond, just whimpered. Hips raising to get closer to him again. “Greedy.” He muttered.

His lips connected back to your cunt, continuing to cover his face with your juices. His fingers joined the party, prodding at your weeping entrance. Slipping one finger, he gauged your response. You were in pure bliss.

Using a single finger, he moved it slowly, exploring your walls. The warm tongue that played with your clit had you begging for more. All you wanted was him. To be full of him. Only him.

He obeyed your pleas, adding another finger. His precise movements picked up the pace. The ‘come here' gesture made you lose your mind as it grazed against a very sensitive spot. Your breath hitched, fingers tightened against his long locks.

Jungkook didn’t dare stop. Even when you tried to run from the slaughter, he kept you pinned. “Fuck, Jungkook. Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted, the knot in your stomach snapping.

It exploded, the pleasure flooding your veins. Your head was light as you began to float. He continued, guiding you through your orgasm. He let you ride it out, slowing down when he felt your thighs twitch.

As you calmed, your eyes focused on the man you had to thank for the pleasure. And the view was sinister. His face was glistening with your wetness, covering his reddened plump lips, puffy cheeks, and chin. His eyes had darkened with lust. He kissed your inner thigh, slightly biting the skin.

He glanced back to where he removed himself minutes ago. “One last taste baby.”

His tongue ran from your clit to your hole, having one last lick. You whined at the overstimulation. “I know. But looked too good. Taste so much sweeter when you cum.”

“Fuck Jungkook, please. You talk so much. I can’t.” You huffed.

“Do you not like me talking to you? Don’t like hearing what I want to do to you? How I want to fold you in half and give you what want. Let my cock finally get a taste.”

You let out a pathetic cry. You wanted to hear it all. But you swear you could just cum from his voice if he continued. “Please. Want it. Want it right now.”

He climbed up the bed, straddling your thigh to allow his own thigh to press against your abused cunt. You could feel his hard member pressed against you, a wet patch present where his sensitive member sat. His upper body hovered above you, kissing the tops of your tits. “Did I neglect these gorgeous? M’sorry.” He slurred.

He pulled the flesh from the cups, kissing the newly exposed skin. The juices that remained on his skin smeared across your chest as his tongue swirled your nipple. You pushed down on his thigh, needing him. “Need your cock.”

“You are not too sensitive? We can kiss some more.”

“No.” You pleaded. “I love it. I want it.”

He moved to the other nipple. Circling and sucking on the darkened skin. “Fuck, tell me to stop if it’s too much. Condoms?”

He removed himself with a pop, following to where your fingers were pointing. He grabbed a condom from the top drawer of your nightstand. Quickly, he stripped the Calvin’s from his body, freeing his red, angry member.

You whimpered at the sight. Everything about him was too good. Too perfect. His large thighs, small waist, broad shoulders. His rustled hair, his tattoos. His structured facial features. And now, his curved, thick cock. Decorated with a large vein that protruded through the gentle skin from the base to the wet tip.

It throbbed as he ripped the condom open with his teeth. He pinched the top, rolling it down his length. It was all too attractive. You rose from the bed to where he kneeled. You grasped his shoulders, crashing your lips. His arms wrapped around your back, gelling your body together as you got lost in the kiss.

Using all your strength, you twisted his body, trying to lower him onto the bed back first. He complied, grunting as his body collapsed onto the firm mattress. You climbed onto his lap, hands on his chest.

His fingers dug into your hips, anticipating your next move. “Help me.” You pleaded raising your hips.

His hips thrusted upwards, missing the contact already. “Want you to put it in.” You begged.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, believing that was the hottest thing he ever heard. Although you were in total control in this position, you were giving him some power.

Spitting in his hand, he brought it down to his aching cock, spreading it along his length. He pressed the tip against your sodden folds, running it up and down. He rubbed it against your clit making you hiss. “Please, need it now. Been good.”

“So good for me. Just wanted to tease you baby. So cute.”

He moved his sensitive head back to your entrance, he could feel the vacuum, wanting to suck him in. You slowly sank down, inch by inch. Fingernails sank into his chest, leaving behind those beautiful crescents. He swore he would get them tattooed. Immortalise your touch.

It took everything for Jungkook to not pull you down and force you to take his full length. His tongue poked at his lip piercing, trying to focus on anything else. Your warmth consumed him entirely. He swore he could cum right there and then.

Meanwhile, you were shutting down. The stretch, the pleasure flooding your thoughts. The sensitivity of your cunt making you cry out as you continued to take length. Once you felt your thighs meet his torso, you let out a breath, giving you time to adjust. He sensed your struggle. He traced shapes along your side, cooing you. “Doing so good baby. Feel so tight. So wet.”

The praise that slipped from his lips, brought you back to reality. A sense of accomplishment pounding in your chest. You had this man below you mewling as you shuffled to find a comfortable position. “So big Kookie.”

“Fuck” he growled, thrusting upwards. “Yes baby, I am your Kookie.”

Unable to stay still any longer, you began to slowly lift your hips up, before slamming back down. Your hands on his chest acted as a stabiliser. Gave you the support you needed to find a steady, hard rhythm.

Your head was thrown back, feeling him filling you up repeatedly had you going cross-eyed. Moans and groans filled the room. Heavy pants as you continued to relish in the pleasure. The air thickened as a thin layer of precipitation glossed your skin.

Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off you. The way you looked so demanding and yet so elegant. Your lips parted with endless curses escaping, mixed with your cries. He watched as your cunt engulfed his cock, a white ring forming at the base. He loved you like this.

A certain stroke, had you collapsing. His tip digging somewhere deep within you, ecstasy shooting through your nervous system, paralysing you. His hands wrapped around your back, holding you close. “You okay? Too much?”

He was anxious, you had just suddenly stopped, screaming in pleasure, or so he hoped. “Your cock, too much.”

“Wanna stop? Take a break?”

“No, please. Kookie. Don’t stop.”

He kissed your temple, his torso rising off the bed. You were glued to him, not moving an inch. He folded his legs beneath you, with you sitting on top, legs hugging his waist. “This okay baby? This position?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t know if I have the energy.” You admitted, a bit embarrassed.

He kissed along your clavicle, his hands worked to unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders. He kissed each shoulder, before kissing you once again. Slow and steady. “Don’t worry baby, I got you.”

Grabbing your ass, he squeezed as he began grinding you against him, his cock nestled deep within your warm walls. He rocked you slowly, lips attacking every inch of his skin. This position was very intimate. It felt like you were under a spotlight, skin burning, goosebumps decorating your skin.

But it felt so good, your clit being stimulated by the collision when he pulled you forward. Your head was thrown back, embracing the feeling of his lips and his cock. Fingers digging into his scalp as he started to pick up the pace.

It was sloppy, like dry humping, both desperate to feel close. Jungkook was cracking, he knew he couldn’t hold on any longer. Your walls fluttered against him, contacting, tightening. “Y/N so close, shit.”

“Please cum.” You cried, beginning to rut against the man.

A primal grunt ripped through him. “You give me one more baby.”

Pulling his head away from your tits, you looked him in the eyes. Pupils dilated as if he had indulged on a class A drug. “Harder.” You begged.

Although this position was wonderful, and, oh, it was incredible, you knew it would take you a while to reach your high. Jungkook understood, immediately pushing you backwards. His cock slipped causing you to whimper at the loss.

He chuckled as he aligned himself before sinking back in, stilling once his pelvis touched yours. “So needy, so desperate. I was trying to be nice for you. But you just want it hard. You want me to be hard baby? Want me to take control?”

“Please fuck me.” You growled, so turned on.

“You ask for it, you get it baby.”

His hips snapped back before plummeting back in. So deep, so strong. Your body ricocheted, slightly moving up the bed. But he was caving you in, his elbows placed above your shoulders as he continued to pound into you. No where for you to run. Your fingernails carved into his back, trying to ground yourself.

“Kook” you panted, the knot immediately tightening in the pit of your stomach.

“Play with that pretty clit for me.”

Obeying the command, you swiftly move your hand to your swollen clit. The pleasure was intense, every inch catching flames. You couldn’t stop the sounds that fled. To muffle them, you attacked his neck and ear. Kissing and sucking the soft, dampened skin.

This action only encouraged him. He was panting, moaning in your ear as he continued the inhuman pace. It didn’t take long for him to feel your walls grip him, clamping him down. Making it nearly impossible to move. Your chest rose, tits pressing against him. The hand on his back, seeked refuge in his locks. Toes curled and legs shaking.

A wail erupted from you, as the knot finally snapped. You were overcome with the pleasure, black spots in your vision, ears ringing. You could barely hear Jungkook praising you through your high.

“Cum. Please.” You pleaded, voice horse and husky. Fuck everything about you was so hot.

Jungkook, who was solely focused on your pleasure, realised he compressed his own. Suddenly he felt his heavy balls, his stomach begging for release. He needed a bit more stimulation. But he didn’t want to risk hurting you. “Fuck feel so good, can I pull out. Wanna paint you baby.”

“Yes, please. Wanna see you cum.”

As he pulled out, the movement nearly made him blow. Raising up on his knees, he whimpered as he tore the condom from his body, admiring how it was covered in your essence. What a waste.

His hand gently swiped through your folds, gathering your juice to use as lube. Perking up on your forearms, you watched as he wrapped it around his cock. One pump, two pump, his thighs began to quake, stomach tightened, his abs carved along his abdomen. He was groaning and grunting, telling you how good you felt. His eyes closed as he focused on the pleasure. Sitting up, you reached forward, fingers grazing the vein that had caught your attention along his cock.

“Fuck. Shit.” His eyes snapped open at the new set of hands that joined his. He saw you lean forward, lips apart, tongue flat. As soon as your tongue met the precum that was pouring out of his tip, he lost it.

He moaned your name, a hand holding your hair as you took him into his mouth. Two bobs of your head and he was crying out. “Baby I am cumming. Wanna cum.”

You hummed around his tip. And the champagne popped. His cum flooded your tastebuds. The explicit sounds were pornographic. He couldn’t stop as his cum painted your mouth.

He kept pumping the length that wasn’t in your mouth causing him to whine as he purposely overstimulated himself. You pulled back, stunned as you saw how hard was. Although you couldn’t see, you knew you had swallowed a large amount.

“Sorry baby. It felt too good.” He whimpered. “Can’t stop.”

His cock was so pretty. So angry, so wet. His hand glided easily, pushing more precum from his little slit. Finally coming out of your orgasmic haze, you smirked. Pushing your tits together, you looked through your bashful eyelids. “You wanted to paint me Kookie. So paint me.”

His mouth was agape, no sound exiting as he just admired you sitting below him, looking so sexy and cute all at the same time. In the blink of an eye, a second orgasm crept up.

He watched as the spurts of white cum pumped out of his cock, landing on your beautifully marked skin. He sounded so submissive as his overstimulated and abused cock throbbed and twitched in his tight grip.

The pain suddenly overtook the pleasure, causing him to release his limp cock. He collapsed on top of you as you both settled on the bed, heavy breaths being shared. He tucked his head into the nook of your neck, leaving light wet kisses.

Realising that he was probably crushing you, he rolled over, pulling you with him. His hand rubbed your back, trying to calm you and your own aftershocks.

In your post-sex blissful state, you thought about the night's events. From the blind date, the playground, and then finally, to the bedroom. You just laughed. It was comical.

Jungkook didn’t know why you laughed, but it was contagious, and so he joined in. Chuckling along with you. He was honestly just happy to be there. To be with you in that moment.

Gathering composure, you rested your chin on his chest. “I mean this date was something else.” You joked, poking at his cheek. “You have a different kind of charm Jeon Jungkook.”

“Hopefully that charm worked on you.” He quirked, pushing away the fallen locks from your face.

“Seeing as we are just laying here in your cum, I think it worked.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose at the reminder. The sticky sensation between your bodies became evident. “Yeah sorry about that. I, um, don’t know why, I just wanted to feel your skin. But come on.” He tapped your ass making you giggle. “Let’s get us cleaned up.”

You hummed in agreement, getting off of him, scooting to the side of the bed, letting your legs touch the ground. The stiffness in your legs was obvious as you tried to rise. Jungkook had no issues, doing some kind of parkour to get off the bed.

He walked over to you offering a hand, to which you gladly accepted. He smiled watching you struggle, pride erupting through his chest. Yeah, I did that.

You wrapped a hand around his waist, like you did when you ran home in the rain. He guided you to the en-suite bathroom. “Shower?” He asked, kissing your temple.

“Please. But no funny business.” You warned, pointing at his dick.

He chuckled, raising his hands as you walked towards the open shower, twisting the handles to allow the hot water to run. You stood underneath the stream, loving the warmth. Jungkook admired the way the relaxation overcame your body. Your shoulders shrunk, eyes closed.

Jungkook almost felt guilty joining you in your little paradise. He tip-toed in, not wanting to disturb. Your eyes pried open as you heard the squeak of the porcelain floor. He looked so small, so hesitant. “Come here, the water is so nice.” You insisted, grabbing his wrist to guide him closer.

He stood there, a frown on his face as he watched the water trickle down your body. “I will have to paint you again soon. I miss the picture already.”

“Mister, no funny business.”

Jungkook chuckled at your stern voice. Once again, his hands were raised in defence. “Let me clean you.” He said grabbing your loofa, pouring body wash onto it. “No funny business.” He clarified.

It was your turn to laugh, letting him wash your body. His hands caressed every crevice, paid attention to every inch. His lips kissed the newly made marks, ensuring they got the extra attention they deserved.

Returning the favour, you cleaned his body, giving extra care to the marks and scrapes. The shower was like a second round, so intimate, but without any sexual intention. It was weird, but so nice.

“Sorry about the scrapes.” You apologised as you dried your bodies, seeing the marks through the mirror. They looked raw. Sore.

He furrowed his brows, looking over his shoulder. The deep marks visible. “Might not wear a shirt for a while. Need an ego boost.”

You squinted your eyes, scolding him as you playfully pushed his shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. I like them. Nearly as much as the person that made them.” He kissed your cheek. “Let me grab some clothes.”

And with that, he exited the bathroom leaving you with your thoughts. Was this moving to fast? He is a stranger, right? You can’t be doing this, you’ll just end up getting hurt. He doesn’t know you. Doesn’t know all your quirks and habits, your pet peeves. Why would he be so invested all ready. Throwing around confessions like that. Is there something I am missing?

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, placing the clean clothing on the sink. He could see you were consumed with thoughts, standing still in the middle of the bathroom.

“Jungkook, I just don’t understand you. We barely know one another but you seem so certain that this will work.” You wrapped your body in a towel, opting to not be in your most vulnerable state for this conversation.

Jungkook had his boxers on already. His cheeks hollowed, biting his cheek. “Y/N, I don’t know how to answer that without sounding insane.”

“The truth.” You simply stated.

He ran a hand through his wet locks, gripping the roots. “I just- fuck. I have been admiring you for a while. Namjoon mentions you a lot, and the person he talks about, that is the person I want. Look I can’t say this will work, but I want to give us a try. And I have always had a habit of jumping in head first. I am sure Namjoon has mentioned my lack of patience.”

You pursed your lips, hiding the small smile. Yeah, Namjoon has mentioned it a few times.

“But one thing I can promise, I will give you everything. All of me. I don’t expect you to accept it all now, I know you are still recovering. But I just want you to know I am willing and ready to be by your side as you pick up those pieces.”

Maybe this was too good to be true. But what if it was true? You have always been so calculated, but tonight had been the first time in a long time you just did, not think. And it had been amazing. Not a single regret. So maybe you should be crazy for once.

You stepped towards him, wrapping your arms around him. Hugging him. He immediately reciprocated the action. Holding you tight.

“I like you too.”

[fallonskpopcorner]

ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral

a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.

[fallonskpopcorner]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus (female receiving), hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The giddy laughter of a lost child finding his parents, the grateful tears in a woman’s eyes when her husband recovered from illness... These miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man was kind and had lived his life in accordance with the teachings of the Lord. He had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. From that day forward, you were never the same. That feeling stayed with you, even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning the Divine Order was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home since your Fall. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallways as you sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms, and straighten up the recreational areas. The shelter has quieted down considerably, with most of its occupants having retreated to their respective sleeping areas. By the time you finish, the clock on the wall shows that it is nearly midnight.

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes—a hand-me-down outfit that's been well-worn but is comfortable—and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,�� you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four—lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

As you scrub the sleep from your eyes, you can't help but laugh. His enthusiasm is infectious. 

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. He observes the businessmen hustling past with their briefcases, mothers pushing strollers, teenagers talking loudly amongst themselves. 

It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings him up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like… like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, kissing you with desperation. He pulls out almost all the way, pausing momentarily before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you gasping and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by Jungkook—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

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jimin-ah, you’re amazing !! credits: @jinniesarchives

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just a mini reminder some of your fav anime’s r written/illustrated by women

1. Kimetsu No Yaiba ( Demon Slayer written by Koyoharu Gotuge )

2) Fullmetal Alchemist ( Written by Hiromi Arakawa )

3) Blue Exorcist ( written by Kazue Kato)

4) Sailor Moon ( written by Naoko Takeuchi ofc )

5) Noragami ( written by Adachitoka )

6) Black Butler ( Written by Yana Toboso )

7) Deadman Wonderland ( Written by Jinsei Kataoka )

8) Fruits Basket ( Written By Natsuki Takaya )

9) Inuyasha ( written by Rumiko Takahashi )

10) Ouran High School Host Club ( written by Bisco Hatori )

( please let me know if i left any out !! i’ll try to make more posts like these soon ! :) )

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give me love.

you’ve been in a relationship with your boyfriend for over five years now, yet the talk of marriage has never been initiated between the two of you. of course, you try to somehow squeeze it in from time to time, but it seems like no matter what, namjoon just won’t take the hint.

pairing: namjoon x reader

word count: 15k

rating: 18+

content: angst | fluff | smut | established relationship au | ft. lawyer!namjoon, noona!reader

warning/s: swearing | explicit sexual content | soft dom!namjoon | nipple sucking | nipple play | fingering | slight noona kink | slight praise kink | oral (f. receiving) | unprotected sex | sex on the kitchen counter oop | choking | a hint of orgasm denial

opening note. i worked so hard on this fic since february rip and fell in love with namjoon amidst writing it so i hope y’all like it!! big thank you to @meowxyoong, @gracehiii​, @a-pisces-shitposts, & @xoxrinaxox tumblr won’t let me tag you sigh so i’m attaching a link instead for volunteering when i asked for a beta reader 🥺 really though it was my first time asking someone to beta read so i was lowkey intimidated by everyone oof but the four of them were so nice and just very very helpful so thank you :(( | oh, and i’d also like to thank @hopesgoldensugakookie bc even though we only talked like once in discord, your suggestion helped wired my gears and come up with the ending i was satisfied with. thank you! (:

Namjoon was smart—that was something you were certain of and something he liked to flaunt a lot back then when the both of you started dating. He was aiming to be a lawyer after all, of course, he always had his head between books, that’s what you would think to yourself whenever you’d grow fascinated by his mind. But that wasn’t the case for him at all. The way he was so intelligent came from the wisdom he also possessed. His deeper understanding of life, and how he perceived his surroundings and the people around it. It took you awhile before you got the chance to read exactly what was going on through that pretty little head of his, and you’d just get surprised every single time.

Though no matter how smart Namjoon was, no matter how impressed you were of his wits, no matter how damn attractive he was in your eyes—the feeling of always being put second to his other priorities was what troubled your relationship the most. Of course, Namjoon knew how to express love and make you feel loved whenever he could, but it was the times when he was insensitive to your feelings and perhaps your needs that caused most of the problems in your relationship.

Like right now, as you look at him from across the bed where he was still reading that law book from two hours ago. He  still hadn’t taken the hint that the reason you’ve been sputtering out nonsense like how he was going to ‘fail defending his client by studying the case too much’ if he didn’t take a break, that you were wishing he’d be here beside you, keeping you warm in his embrace.

“Baby,” you call out to him and he doesn’t even glance up, just humming with a raise of his eyebrows, “has your brain combusted already?”

Keep reading

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some begging and flattering sometimes do the trick

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in the soop behind photos → jungkook

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namjoon appreciation hours open 24/7

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he’s not bts’ lead vocalist for nothing

+ 

the designated jungkook breakfast/dinner alarm:

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the most wanted man

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same jungkook

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★ 【灸場メロ】 「 呪術廻戦 」 ☆ ⊳ gojo (jujutsu kaisen) ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter

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throwing tantrums in tiny 

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REBLOG THIS.

for some reason the entire bts community seems to have rallied around a single and inaccurate tiktok claiming that jungkook’s affectionate nicknames, ‘kook’ and ‘guk’, are variations of the slur ‘g**k’, a derogatory word for east asian people. THEY ARE NOT. g**k is the only slur of the three. g**k is the only way it has ever been and will ever be spelled. it is an ENGLISH SLUR. THERE ARE NO ALTERNATIVE SPELLINGS. it was created by white people in the 1900s during a time of mass war, conflict, and imperialism throughout the phillipines, vietnam, and korea. it was predominantly used by white people until the vietnam war ended in 1975. it has been sparingly used since and is practically extinct in usage amongst millennials and gen z. JUNGKOOK’S NAME IS NOT A SLUR. it has never, ever, EVER been romanized as g**k. there should be ZERO confusion over this. i’m sick of (mostly) white people afraid of being racist speaking over east asian people who have repeatedly stated that kook and guk are not offensive. i’m sick of people believing that one woman on tiktok because she seemed like she knew what she was talking about. do not dox/correct/speak over east asian people when talking about what is and is not a slur for east asians. east asian fans do not intrinsically think that, because you refer to jungkook as ‘kook’ or ‘guk’, you are disparaging him by calling him a slur. it is very obvious when someone says a slur and means it as such. talking about jungkook and calling him ‘kook’ or ‘guk’ is not one of those scenarios. PLEASE. FACT CHECK YOUR SOURCES.

(attached are links that can educate you more on the topic!)

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You can tell who reads fan fiction bc they are all panicking right now