infiresyg93

[infiresyg93]

OPEM ARMS

©doomgurlfics .ೃ࿐

Synopsis: After facing a tragic incident that leaves Jungkook a single parent, he quickly realizes that raising a baby alone is more than overwhelming—it’s all-consuming. Stretched thin, he reaches out to a home care agency, and in walks you: a caretaker with a warm touch and a steady heart, eager to help.

Your only goal is to support the little girl you’ve been assigned to, but as you spend time in the Jeon household, you realize that the newborn isn’t the only one in need of nurturing.

Pairing: Non Idol Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 6,942

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Possible slow uploads, Cursing/Coarse language, Eventual smut, Mentions of death, Emotionally constipated Jungkook

Content: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, A/B/O (no turning), Angst, Single Parent, unrequited x Namjoon, Grieving Jungkook, POC Y/N

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Hi beautiful people! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long :)! I’m excited to share part five with you all. I wrote this while listening to Twice’s new album lol, so I felt the girl power fr😭! But I appreciate all the love and support on Open Arms, you guys are amazing as always. Also, did you guys notice I redid my blogggg. I was getting tired of the ocean aesthetic, I needed something milder. Anyways love guys, enjoyyy

PART FIVE

Where is Simeon?

The two of you were supposed to meet for brunch after your run, but, surprise, surprise, he’s late. Like always.

You shift in your seat, offering a sheepish smile to the waitress as she circles by again, pen tucked behind her ear and irritation clearly simmering under her polite tone.

“Still waiting?” she asks, only half-trying to mask the judgment in her voice.

“Yeah, sorry,” you murmur. “He’s usually like this.”

She hums. “I’ll give you a few more minutes.”

You nod and reach for your phone, thumbs furiously tapping out a message.

If I knew your ass was gonna be late we could’ve just eaten at home.

Read. No response.

Typical.

Since you’re already here, you figure you might as well eat. You flip open the menu, eyes scanning the smoothie section, debating between strawberry-banana or something green that you’ll probably regret later.

You’re just about to wave down the irritated waitress when the door chimes again.

You glance up, expecting to see Simeon.

But it’s not him.

It’s Namjoon.

You stiffen.

He doesn’t notice you immediately, but it doesn’t take long, your anxious scent giving you away.

Namjoon pauses mid-step, nose twitching ever so slightly before his gaze sweeps across the café, landing on you.

You try to mask the wave of emotions rolling through you, but you can’t help that a part of you is glad to see him.

“Hey,” he says as he slides into the booth, offering an apologetic smile. “Before you ask—I didn’t know anything about this. But I should’ve figured something was up with how weird Simeon was acting.”

You only nod in response. Things between you and Namjoon had been weird ever since the gathering. You hadn’t spoken in over two weeks.

You wanted to blame that on what he said at the party. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the only reason.

Not even close.

The truth of your feelings was bubbling closer and closer to the surface, and you were scared of what might come after.

Namjoon sighs. “Look, Y/N… I’m sorry about what I said about Jungkook at the party. It was stupid and immature. I don’t even know why I said it.” He scratches his head awkwardly, waiting for your reply.

You don’t give him one, your silence clearly throwing him off. He huffs

“Y/N, we can’t function like this. You have to talk to me. Ever since I started seeing Arielle, you’ve been… off. I didn’t think you’d be this immature about it.”

You flinch at that—immature?

“Do you really have no idea why I’ve been pulling back?” you ask, voice trembling as you try to keep your composure.

“No,” he says, frustration in his tone. “I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out what the hell I did. But I keep coming up blank. Please, Y/N. Just tell me so we can fix this. I hate being at odds with you.”

He reaches across the table for your hand, but you pull back before he can touch you. Your omega whines at the rejection, even as your heart steels.

“You really don’t remember that night?” you whisper.

He tenses. Just for a moment. Then relaxes like it never happened.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can we stop speaking in riddles and just lay it all out?”

He rubs his nose, one of his tells that he’s lying. You knew him all too well.

Why is he pretending not to know?

You stand abruptly, grabbing your bag as you slide out of the booth. “Namjoon, I can’t do this right now,” you mutter, storming out before he can respond.

You know he’s following. You can feel it. But you don’t stop. Not until you’re far from the restaurant parking lot and he’s grabbing your wrist, spinning you around.

“No, Y/N. We’re not walking away from this. We need to resolve whatever’s going on between us so we can move on.”

“That’s the problem, Namjoon. I can’t move on,” you shout, yanking your wrist free.

You need to breathe. To calm down.

You hated how much your mind drifted back to that night.

Three years ago. Your twentieth birthday.

You’d gone glamping with your friends. And by the time the sun had set, everyone else had retreated to their tents, leaving just you and Namjoon beneath the stars.

You were curled up beside him, cozy under a blanket he’d helped drape over your shoulders, his arm wrapped around you to keep it in place. His body heat, the fire, the night air, it all felt like something out of a dream.

And maybe it was the drinks, or maybe it was just your heart finally reaching its limit, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Joon, I… I like you.”

He laughed at first, caught off guard. Brushing it off like you were joking.

But then he saw your face. The sincerity in your eyes. And the smile fell from his lips.

“You’re serious?” he asked, voice quieter. He pulled back slightly, just enough to see you clearly in the firelight.

You nodded, heart pounding. “Yes. I’m serious, Namjoon. I like you.”

Embarrassment pooled in your stomach as he stayed silent, watching you with eyes that gave no hint to his emotions.

You regretted sharing your feelings instantly.

But then he pulled you closer into his side rubbing your shoulder slightly as he planted a kiss on your head.

“Let’s enjoy tonight, ok? You deserve it.”

Confused by his response you nodded. At least he didn’t shove you away.

But as you reflect on his actions now you can only shake your head, disappointed in yourself. How could you be so naive?

You blink yourself back to the present, the sun glaring down on you as you stand face to face with Namjoon.

He’s staring at you, brows furrowed, waiting—still pretending not to remember.

The betrayal sits heavy on your chest.

“Don’t do that,” you say quietly, voice shaking. “Don’t stand here and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. That night, my birthday, I confessed to you.”

He sighs, guilt masking his face as he looks away from you.

“Y/N, come on. You were drunk. I couldn’t take what you said to heart,” He defends.

“Maybe I had a little bit to drink, but I wasn’t drunk off my ass Namjoon. I wasn’t slurring my words, I wasn’t stumbling around. I knew exactly what I said.”

You take a step back, pulse pounding, betrayal written across your face. “And now I know you remembered. All this time.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything. Can’t say anything.

“That’s what hurts the most,” you continue, your voice quieter now, but no less steady. “You didn’t forget. You just pretended it never happened.”

You swallow hard, chest tightening. “At least if you’d been honest back then, I wouldn’t have wasted all this time thinking maybe-“

“Maybe what Y/N?” Namjoon says exasperated. “That we would have dated? Come on, you know it wasn’t that simple. I’m Simeon’s best friend, you were in the midst of college, and I was just beginning my career. We were on two different paths.”

The words hit harder than a slap, stealing the air from your lungs.

You’d been preparing yourself for this—replaying every possible version of this conversation in your head for years. But somehow, hearing it aloud still guts you.

All those years of hoping. Of wondering if the quiet looks, the lingering hugs, the way he always made time for you meant something more. They dissolve right there on the sidewalk like they’d never existed at all.

You blink, throat tight. “You didn’t have to love me back, Namjoon. But you could’ve respected me enough to just be honest.”

A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. You hate how exposed you feel, how raw your heart sounds in your own ears.

Namjoon’s expression softens instantly, and he takes a cautious step forward.

“Y/N…”

But you flinch back, subtle but firm.

“You mean a lot to me. You always have. But we can’t—I can’t—pursue this. Especially not now. Not with Arielle.”

He doesn’t look at you when he says her name.

“I should’ve said something years ago. Been clear. But I didn’t know how. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

You let out a humorless laugh, wiping the steady stream of tears from your face. “Well, it’s a little too late for that.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and sharp.

“I think I should go,” you murmur, your voice low and tight. You don’t spare him another glance as you turn, feet already carrying you in the direction of your home.

“Y/N, wait—” he starts, a note of desperation in his voice.

But you don’t let him finish.

There’s nothing else you want to hear from him at this point.

Your heart aches, heavy and hollow. Your omega mourning something you never truly had.

You always thought unrequited love would feel like rejection. Sharp. Sudden. Clear-cut.

But it doesn’t. It feels like waiting at a door that was never going to open, watching someone pause with their hand on the knob and never turn it.

It’s not the absence of love that hurts.

It’s the almost of it.

The illusion that maybe, just maybe, if you’d said it differently, or waited longer, or been someone else entirely… things might’ve turned out differently.

You wipe your face, shame creeping in where hope used to live.

How long had you been holding on to something that was never yours?

And more importantly—when would you finally let it go?

“Yes, Mom, I watered all fifty-six of your plants this week,” you say with a soft laugh. “And yes, Simeon is mowing the lawn as we speak.”

You glance out the window, catching sight of your brother struggling to maneuver the old push mower across the overgrown grass. He looks ridiculous, and mildly irritated, but he powers through.

The two of you are at your mother’s house, doing the usual biweekly maintenance while she’s away.

After your father passed, your mom couldn’t bring herself to stay rooted in one place. The house reminded her too much of him. So, she started traveling with your pack’s disaster relief committee, dedicating her time to helping neighboring packs recover after natural disasters.

In your opinion, she’s getting too old for that kind of work, but you let her be. Grief is personal. Everyone copes in their own way.

You listen as she nags for another five minutes before finally hanging up, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Then you head outside to check on Simeon.

He’s drenched in sweat and cursing under his breath, probably regretting not calling a landscaping service.

Ever since last week, after that run-in with Namjoon, he’s been walking on eggshells around you. Quiet, overly helpful, never sure what to say. He didn’t know about your feelings before and immediately felt terrible once he found out how things unfolded.

But you don’t hold it against him.

He meant well.

“Alright Simi, I have to leave you so I can get to Jungkook’s house in time,” you shout over the mower’s growl.

He cuts it off.

“Do you want me to drive you?” he asks, wiping sweat from his brow.

You shake your head quickly. “No, I’m taking the bus. I’ll be fine.”

He nods, reluctantly, but doesn’t press. You know he’s trying to make up for what happened with Namjoon, but you’re not ready to talk about that yet. Not with him. Not with anyone.

You just needed time.

You grab your bag and hurry down the street, barely making it to the bus stop in time. The driver doesn’t even wait for you to sit before pulling off, the engine groaning in protest beneath the rising heat.

Summer was definitely creeping in.

You get off a stop earlier than usual, not because it’s closer—but because it gives you time. Time to breathe. Time to distract yourself.

Today marked Nori’s five-month milestone. A whole month had flown by in the blink of an eye. And you wanted to get her a little something to celebrate.

But deep down, you needed it, too.

You’d been carrying around this dull ache in your chest since that conversation with Namjoon. The kind that lingers no matter how well you pretend. Buying Nori a gift felt like something you could control. A little joy you could hold in your hands.

You still couldn’t believe you’d been lucky enough to watch her grow for two whole months. She was such an amazing baby. Bright, curious, and full of a gentle kind of magic. And being around her helped… more than you wanted to admit.

Things with Jungkook had settled, too. You were finally back on track. After everything that happened, you thought it’d be best to set some ground rules—clear boundaries. No room for crossed wires or blurred intentions.

You weren’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t spoil Nori a little.

You’d pulled some strings to get the local toy shop to open early, just long enough to pick up the perfect gift: a plush Jellycat bunny, soft as a cloud, wrapped in pastel paper with a satin ribbon and a little tag addressed to “Nori, the sunshine baby.”

You cradle the package in your arms as you rush to Jungkook’s house, just two minutes late as you jog up the steps and knock on the door.

The door swings open, and there he stands, Nori tucked against his side, clinging to his uniform with one hand while the other rubs at her sleepy eye. Her face lighting up when she sees you.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you say, stepping inside, kicking off your shoes, and hanging your bag on the hook like second nature.

“You’re all good, Y/N,” Jungkook replies easily, his eyes dropping to the wrapped gift in your hand. “But… what’s that?”

You gasp dramatically and spin, hiding the package behind your back. “Nothing! You can’t see it until after work. Now hurry up or I’m telling your boss you were dragging your feet.”

He narrows his eyes at you, half amused. “You don’t even know my boss.”

“Details,” you shrug, already making your way to Nori, who was squirming toward you with a squeal.

Jungkook goes, with the promise he’ll be back early so you could celebrate.

You and Nori head to kitchen so you can prepare her bottle, Bam in the backyard doing laps across the grass.

You’re surprised to see a small spread of breakfast layed out. Pancakes, eggs, and fruit. Followed by a note:

You always cook for me and prep Nori’s bottles, so I wanted to return the favor.

-Jungkook

You smile.

Jungkook has been doing nice things for you all week. Giving you rides home, cleaning up the kitchen before you could, folding your hoodie when you forgot it in the laundry room. Small gestures, but thoughtful ones.

At first, you chalked it up to guilt. Maybe he was still trying to make up for that night.

But now… now you’re starting to think he can sense the change in your mood.

You’ve been trying, really trying, not to let Namjoon bleed into this part of your life. Not into work. Not into the routine you’ve built here. But it’s hard when his absence feels so loud, echoing through your chest at the worst times.

He seems to linger in the quiet moments. The ones when Nori’s asleep, when the sun is just beginning to rise, when the world is soft and still, and you remember all the things you never got to say.

You know it’s natural to feel sad. To feel heartbroken.

But you hate it.

You hate how heavy it all feels. How your chest tightens when you pass by the café where you last saw him. How your eyes sting when you hear a song he used to hum under his breath.

But you can’t function in this headspace. You can’t fill yourself with delusions or wish to reverse time because it won’t change anything.

The universe has something special in store for you, you just couldn’t see it yet.

Nori’s hand touches your cheek, pulling you out of your thoughts and you glance down at her, big eyes filled wonder… and hunger.

“Right, right. Sorry Nori, self pity comes later, the Queen must eat!” You boop her nose and prepare her bottle, feeding it to her, before sitting at the island and eating your own.

Jungkook could cook, fairly well. You would have to thank him later.

At some point, you hear Bam’s paw tapping against the glass, a soft thump-thump-thump as he paces by the back door like a restless sentry.

You glance up from your plate, shaking your head with a small smile. “You had the whole backyard, and now suddenly you want in?”

He huffs through the screen like he understands you, tail wagging in slow anticipation.

You get up and let him in. Bam trots past you proudly, doing his usual lap around the kitchen before settling near Nori’s bouncer, as if he’s been appointed her personal guard.

She lets out a squeal of delight, tiny hands waving toward him like he’s the most exciting thing she’s seen all day.

Your day continues on as usual. You and Nori spend a lot more time on the play-mat now that she is developing more motor skills.

Every week you prepare new sensory games for her to try, this week a DIY water table with rubber duckies.

There was water everywhere afterwards, but it didn’t take you too long to clean up.

She was down for her nap now, all tuckered out as you play with bam.

You toss one of his toys down the hall and watch him sprint after it, his paws skidding slightly on the hardwood before he scrambles to a stop. Bam returns with the toy proudly clutched in his mouth, tail wagging as if he’s accomplished a grand mission.

“You’re such a showoff,” you tease, giving his head a firm scratch before taking the toy and tossing it again.

You have to remind yourself sometimes that he’s still just a baby too. A big, stubborn, overly energetic fur baby. He was only halfway through his growth stage and already pushing thirty pounds. You could only imagine what the next few months would look like.

Keys jingle and you watch his ear perk up, running to the door before stopping himself and sitting, tail thudding against the floor.

You were impressed, Jungkook’s training was paying off.

The door swings open and Jungkook steps inside, crouching down immediately to give Bam a few affectionate pats. “Good boy,” he murmurs before straightening and turning toward you.

“Hey,” he says, voice warm.

You smile, “Hi. Thanks for breakfast, It was really good.”

“Oh,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

You both nod at the same time, and then again… at the same time.

You burst out laughing. “Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not!” he insists, but the slight pink tinge to his ears gives him away.

He clears his throat. “I’m gonna go change real quick, could you get Nori’s diaper bag ready?”

“On it!” you chirp, already making your way to the counter.

He returns five minutes later in street clothes, a knocked-out Nori resting peacefully in his arms. The sight catches you off guard.

Even more surprising is her outfit change. She’s now wearing a bright blue jumper with tiny goldfish prints swimming across the fabric.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, arching a brow as you zip up the diaper bag. He hadn’t mentioned any changes to the schedule.

“Actually,” Jungkook says, adjusting Nori gently on his shoulder, “we’re going somewhere.”

“We as in you and Nori?” you ask, a bit confused.

He chuckles under his breath. “We as in you, Nori, and me.”

You blink.

“Oh.”

“If you have her bag all ready, we can actually head out. I already have her car seat hooked up,” he says, signaling Bam to his crate.

“Ok,” you trail off just a little confused. You had no clue where you all were going.

Once you’re finally all settled and Jungkook’s on the road you ask him, curiosity getting the best of you.

“Where are we going? I thought we were going to do something at your home for Nori’s fifth month palooza.”

A small laugh slips out of him, catching you off guard. Jungkook rarely laughed.

You had only just recently unlocked his full, closed-lip smile. Before that, he usually rotated between a flat line, a weak smile, and the infamous half-brow raise of quiet judgment—reserved specifically for Bam when he did something chaotic, or you when you teased him too hard.

“Fifth month palooza. That’s what you’re calling it?” He asks, eyes on the road.

“Yes. Don’t change the subject.”

“It’s a surprise Y/N. You’ll have to wait and find out.”

You sink back in your seat. You were too noisy for surprises. Your pack was big, but not too big. There was only but so many places to go.

The drive carries on for at least twenty minutes, Jungkook driving by all six of your guesses. You had given up at this point, simply enjoying the ride.

But finally, Jungkook pulls into a parking lot, the location clicking as you round the entrance.

An aquarium.

You hadn’t been since you were a child, you almost didn’t recognize it. It was one of your dad’s favorite spots. It had been completely renovated and expanded, looking nothing like the one you visited years ago.

You were excited.

“Oh my gosh. This was such a great idea Jungkook! Nori is going to love it.”

You heard her softly babbling behind you, meaning she was well rested from her nap.

“You think so? I wanted to pick something that would get her out of the house. You as well.”

You glance over at him, caught off guard by his quiet sincerity. His tone isn’t teasing. He means it. And something about that makes your chest tighten.

“I’ve just noticed you’ve been a little off lately,” he adds, eyes focused ahead as he searches for a parking spot. “And I figured maybe some fresh air. New scenery. A wall of jellyfish.”

You laugh, touched by the sentiment.

He pulls into a parking spot and the two of you get out. You reach for Nori’s diaper bag but he beats you to it, slinging it on his shoulder before lifting Nori out of her seat.

You walk beside him as the two of you head inside, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh, releasing a rush of cool air that contrasts the spring heat outside.

The entrance is flooded with color—shimmering blue lights overhead, wall-sized tanks to your right, and a life-sized octopus sculpture suspended from the ceiling.

Kids dart past you with excited squeals while parents try to keep up. There’s a low hum of water filtering through the pipes, and somewhere in the distance, a dolphin sound effect plays on loop.

It’s a little overwhelming, but in the best way.

“Can I see your wrist?” Jungkook asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You blink, turning toward him.

He holds up a neon orange wristband with the aquarium’s logo on it, a crooked smile on his lips. “For the day pass. They make everyone wear one.”

“Oh,” you laugh, lifting your arm. “Right.”

His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens the band around your wrist, and you swear you feel the faintest flicker of buzz beneath your skin. But Jungkook doesn’t react, just moves on to secure his own band and adjusts Nori on his hip, completely at ease.

“You ready to see some fish, princess?” he coos to Nori.

She kicks her legs in response, blowing a raspberry. Her enthusiasm makes you smile.

The lights dim as you step past the welcome archway, giving way to an ethereal blue glow. All around you, floor-to-ceiling tanks showcase sweeping underwater landscapes—kelp forests, coral reefs, and schools of glimmering fish that dart like starlight.

Nori is completely mesmerized.

She leans forward in Jungkook’s arms, tiny fingers reaching toward the glass as a shark swims past, its fins undulating in slow motion. Her wide eyes track its movement, her mouth forming a tiny “o.”

You can’t help but snap a few pictures for memory keep-sake, even catching Jungkook looking fondly at Nori in one. You favorite it.

You tuck your phone away, smiling to yourself. There was something about seeing them like this, Jungkook calm, steady, Nori fascinated by the world.

Jungkook shifts Nori higher on his hip, his free hand resting gently against the small of her back.

“You think she knows what she’s looking at?” Jungkook asks.

You perk up immediately, slipping into instinct. “Technically, yes. Her vision’s developed a lot over the last month. She can track movement and focus on things farther away now.”

You don’t stop there.

“But as far as recognizing that this is a stingray or that over there is a crab—who, by the way, is missing a leg, poor thing—no. Right now everything’s basically just brightly colored blobs moving through water.”

When you finally glance back at Jungkook, he’s not looking at the tank anymore. He’s looking at you, brows raised slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to laugh.

Your face heats instantly. “Sorry,” you mumble, eyes darting away. “I… kinda go into teacher mode without realizing sometimes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting. “No, I like—” He stops himself, clears his throat. “I mean, I appreciate it. You’re like a walking baby encyclopedia. I learn something new every day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that.

The two of you continue on the hands on exhibit, where there’s a section to pet the sting rays. Children line up excited to touch. Nori’s a little too young, so Jungkook hangs back, but you roll up your sleeves and get in line.

Your turn comes not long after, and you step up to the edge of the tank, lowering your hand into the water with care. The cool touch makes you shiver, but the sensation is quickly replaced by a soft brush against your fingertips—silky and smooth as one of the stingrays glides past.

You glance over your shoulder, surprised to see Nori and Jungkook right behind you. Both watching with curious doe eyes.

“What does it feel like?” Jungkook asks.

“Kind of silky,” you say with a smile, flicking water off your fingertips. “It tickles.”

You dry your hands and fall back in step with them, wandering deeper into the winding halls of the aquarium. Nori’s head swivels left and right at all the movement around her, but after a few minutes, she lets out a small whine and stretches her arms toward you, fingers opening and closing.

“She wants you,” Jungkook says, already loosening his grip.

You lift her easily from his arms, settling her against your hip. “You’re getting spoiled,” you coo. She burrows into your shoulder, thumb slipping into her mouth, completely content.

The three of you move into a dimly lit hallway, the air noticeably cooler. Ahead, a glowing archway pulses with a soft blue light, and as you step through, you’re surrounded by panels of gently drifting jellyfish—translucent, slow, otherworldly.

The room is quiet, almost reverent.

You shift Nori in your arms so she can see better. She watches the glowing tendrils float and curl like ribbons in water.

“She’s never this still,” Jungkook murmurs, voice soft beside you.

“She must like it,” you whisper back, your own eyes tracing the hypnotic movements. “I forgot how peaceful this part is.”

Jungkook leans in, voice close enough to stir the hairs near your ear. “You used to come here a lot?”

You nod. “My dad used to take us when we were kids. This was always my favorite exhibit.” You pause, watching one particularly large jellyfish pulse with soft pink light. “It felt like magic.”

He doesn’t say anything at first. You can feel his gaze again. Not on the jellyfish this time, but on you.

“Still does,” he finally says.

You don’t look at him. Not yet.

Instead, you hold Nori a little closer and let the moment pass like the jellyfish around you—quiet, glowing, and suspended in time.

Eventually, the three of you make your way toward the exit, following the glowing signs that lead out of the jellyfish wing. The peaceful hush of the exhibit gives way to the soft hum of other visitors and distant chatter as you step into a nearby sitting area tucked beside the café. It’s loud, with a few round tables, some vending machines, and padded benches pressed against the wall.

An unpleasant stench fills your nose, coming directly from the baby in your arms.

“Uh-oh. I think someone needs a diaper change,” You glance up at Jungkook. “I’ll be right back.

“You sure?” Jungkook asks.

You nod. “Yeah. I got it.”

You change her quickly and head back out, settling Nori in Jungkook’s lap.

“Ok Nori! Time for the surprise.” You cheer digging in your bag for the gift.

You hand her the wrapped gift and watch her interact with it. She shakes it slightly, not quite knowing what to do with it, so you give her a hint, tearing the wrapping paper.

Of course she tries, but Jungkook helps her out, the corner of the wrapping paper tearing under his careful fingers.

You and Jungkook both watch as she finally pulls the soft Jellycat bunny free, clutching it instantly to her chest. Her squeal is high and delighted, her little legs kicking with joy as she hugs the plush tightly.

“I think that’s a good sign,” Jungkook laughs, his voice light as he watches her pat the bunny’s head like it’s alive.

“Good, because there’s plenty more where that came from,” you grin, nudging Nori’s foot gently.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh yeah? Gonna spoil her rotten, huh?”

“She deserves it,” you say simply, eyes never leaving her as she nuzzles the bunny against her cheek. “Besides, she’s only little once.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Your smile falters for just a second, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.

Not long after, the two of you pack up to leave. The ride home is quiet, but content, Nori drifting off in her seat, the soft hum of the road filling the silence.

You were thankful for today.

Two weeks have passed.

The ache in your chest over Namjoon hasn’t completely disappeared, but it’s dulled—like a bruise fading under your skin. Some days still feel heavier than others, but you’re starting to accept the truth: you can move on. Slowly, you are.

Right now, though, you’re focused on something new, something small and sweet and sitting in her high chair, drooling on her bib.

You stand beside Jungkook in the kitchen, walking him through the steps of introducing solid foods. He looks more anxious than Nori does, eyebrows furrowed as you explain the steaming and pureeing process.

“Organic only,” you remind him, watching him nod intently like this is a final exam. “We’ll start with apples since they’re gentle on the stomach.”

Jungkook had gone all out. Ordering a baby food maker, freezer trays, a food-safe steamer, even the cute little bowls with suction bottoms.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he mutters, peering into the blender as the steamed apples turn to mush.

You laugh softly, nudging him with your elbow. “You won’t. It’s like one ingredient, it’s kind of hard to.”

You help him store and label the leftover purée, leaving a small bowl out for Nori’s first tasting. She kicks excitedly in her high chair, legs thumping against the tray like a tiny drumbeat. Bam sits faithfully below, tail sweeping the floor, ready to claim any spills that come his way.

“Maybe we should wait another week, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, rubbing his forehead. “What if she chokes?”

You glance over at him, heart softening at the worry in his voice.

“There’s always a chance she’ll choke a little, maybe even cough. But that’s normal,” you say gently, patting his shoulder.

He doesn’t look convinced.

“Look,” you continue, “the most important thing is that we stay calm. She’ll take her cues from us.”

He nods slowly, eyes flicking to Nori, who is now babbling impatiently.

He crouches down in front of her, grabbing the tiniest spoonful and holds it out to her.

Nori opens her mouth wide, lips closing around the spoon like she’s been waiting her whole life for this moment. She pauses, her brows furrowing in deep concentration as she processes the taste.

Then, her face lights up. A delighted squeal escapes her as she kicks her feet and smacks her hands against the high chair tray.

Jungkook blinks, stunned. “She… she likes it?”

“She loves it,” you laugh, your heart swelling as you watch the joy on both their faces. “First food down. We’re officially in a new era.”

He stays crouched there a moment longer, watching her with an unreadable expression—equal parts awe, nerves, and something softer.

“She’s growing up so fast,” he says quietly.

You let him have his moment, cleaning up the kitchen while he continues to feed his daughter.

Once everything’s squared away and Nori’s all content. You wish them a good night.

“Make sure to keep a close eye on her tonight. Just to be safe,” you say from the door sliding into your shoes.

Jungkook nods, lifting Nori into his arms as she yawns against his shoulder. “I will. Text me when you get home?”

You give a small smile, hand resting on the doorknob. “Always.”

That was something new the two of you started doing, Jungkook insisting it was solely to give him a piece of mind and insure your safety. You didn’t mind.

Unfortunately, the bus ride home drags. It feels like the driver stops at every corner. At some point your phone dies, leaving you to stare blankly out the window, the day’s weight catching up to you.

When you finally get home, Simeon’s already in the kitchen, surprisingly cooking. Something smells burnt, but you don’t have the energy to poke fun.

You plug in your phone and hop into the shower, trying to shake the tension from your shoulders. But when you step out and check your notifications, your heart drops.

Fifteen missed calls from Jungkook.

Twenty frantic messages.

Nori’s having a reaction. I think it’s an allergy. I don’t know what to do.

Taking her to the ER. Please come.

Your hands tremble.

You throw on the nearest clothes and sprint out of your room.

“Simeon, I need to borrow your car!” you shout, scanning the living room in a panic.

He peeks out from the kitchen, concern washing over his face. “Whoa—what’s going on?”

“Where are your keys?” you demand, eyes wild.

“On the TV stand,” he answers quickly. “Y/N, what—?”

You grip the keys tight, halfway out the door already. “It’s Nori. She’s having an allergic reaction. I have to go.”

That’s all it takes.

“Be careful,” Simeon says, voice calm despite his worry. “Text me when you get there.”

You nod without looking back.

The drive to the hospital is a blur. You run red lights. You curse every car that dares slow you down. Your chest feels tight, mind spiraling with worst-case scenarios—her crying, struggling to breathe, Jungkook panicking with no one to help.

You park haphazardly and rush into the ER, your fingers tremble as you text Jungkook:

I’m so sorry Jungkook, I’m here.

You know they won’t let you back, Not without Jungkook’s consent since you aren’t family.

You collapse into one of the hard plastic waiting room chairs, leg bouncing uncontrollably. The sterile air stings your lungs. Why the hell did your phone have to die earlier? Why weren’t you there?

Seconds stretch into minutes. The buzz of fluorescent lights and distant hospital chatter only makes it worse.

You rub your hands together, trying to stay calm. Trying not to imagine the worst.

You just need to know she’s okay.

The ER doors whoosh open and you look up, heart lurching when you see Jungkook step out. Alone.

You’re on your feet in seconds. “Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry! My phone died and I didn’t see your calls, I—”

The words vanish as he crosses the distance and pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you, his face burying into the crook of your neck.

“She’s okay,” he breathes, voice shaking. “She’s going to be okay.”

The relief is instant and overwhelming. Your knees nearly give out as you wrap your arms around him, hands smoothing across his back the best you can despite the size difference. His body trembles against yours, adrenaline and fear still clearly coursing through him.

“That’s… that’s so good to hear.” Your throat tightens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I should’ve—”

“No,” he says quickly, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

You nod, albeit weakly. “What did they say? Was it the apples?”

Jungkook sighs, eyes heavy. “Yeah. Not long after you left, she started coughing a little, but I didn’t think much of it. Then she got fussy, and when I picked her up, I noticed the rash… it spread so fast.”

His voice wavers at the end, eyes drifting somewhere over your shoulder like he’s reliving it. “I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do. I just grabbed her and drove.”

You reach for his hand instinctively, squeezing it. “You did the right thing, Jungkook.”

He gives a quiet nod, still shaken. “They gave her something to bring the reaction down and kept her for observation. She’s sleeping now.”

You exhale, the knot in your chest finally loosening. “I’m just glad she’s okay.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, then adds, “Do you want to see her?”

You nod, “Of course.”

You follow him to the reception desk and he signs you in, the two of heading down the hall.

Hospitals always made you anxious, the sterile scent and possibility of bad news making you anxious.

You’re seconds away from the pediatric wing when you hear your name.

“Y/N?”

Your body tenses. You were so caught up in everything you forgot there was a chance you’d see Namjoon here.

“Keep walking please,” you whisper to Jungkook, not ready to see him.

But he catches up anyway. Damn those long legs.

“Y/N,” Namjoon calls again, a little softer now that he’s closer.

You stop, reluctantly, turning halfway.

He’s dressed in his white coat, scrubs underneath.

“What are you doing here? Did something happen? Are you ok?” He asks, slinging questions at you in Namjoon fashion.

You keep your expression guarded, arms folding instinctively over your chest. “We’re fine,” you say, your voice quieter than intended but steady. “I’m here with Jungkook. His daughter had a reaction. We’re on our way to see her.”

Namjoon’s face softens instantly, concern washing over his features. “Is she alright?”

“She’s stable now,” Jungkook answers from beside you, his tone polite but clipped. He doesn’t say more—and he doesn’t have to.

Namjoon nods, taking the hint.

You shift your weight, anxious to move forward. “We should get going.”

“Right,” he says, lips parting like he wants to say more. But instead, he just offers a small nod. “Take care, Y/N.”

You nod once, then turn away without another word.

Jungkook waits until you’ve rounded the corner before speaking again. “You okay?”

You give him a weak smile. “I will be once I see Nori.”

He nods, understanding etched across his face. “She’s just up here,” he says softly, leading you the rest of the way.

The moment you step into the room and see her—tiny body resting in the hospital bassinet, a soft blanket tucked under her chin and the plush bunny you got her nestled at her side—your chest loosens.

“How long does she have to stay?” you ask gently.

“Just overnight, hopefully. If everything looks good in the morning, they’ll discharge her.” Jungkook sinks into the chair beside her crib. “I scheduled allergy testing, too. I probably should’ve done that first.”

You notice the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes drop—he’s wearing that look again. The one where he blames himself.

You crouch in front of him, your hand finding his. “Jungkook… we didn’t know. Please don’t blame yourself for this. You acted fast, you got her help. And now she’s safe. That’s what matters.”

He nods weakly.

At some point you sit down beside him, the two of you watching Nori sleep. His hand doesn’t leave yours, but you let it be. He probably needs the comfort.

But deep down, your omega preens, soft and eager, thrumming with quiet hope. It’s foolish, maybe. Too early. Too complicated. But you don’t pull away either.

Not tonight.

Because tonight isn’t about what’s next, or what’s uncertain.

Tonight is about Nori.

About her comfort.

About making sure Jungkook is okay.

You let yourself settle into the moment, just as it is.

And for now—that’s enough.

——

Read part Six here! Masterpost

A/N: 🙀! Nori is good y’all, we had to escalate the situation for the plot 🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️! But thank you guys again for 200 followers, I’m so happy to grow with you all🫶🏽🫶🏽! Always feel free to share your comments or leave an ask! I love talking with alll. Go read part six, it’s already out😘😘🫶🏽

Taglist:

@canarystwin @smut02 @32saucy-minx @hoelychildofgod @jadestonedaeho7 @nisrine1622 @jolenewb @welcometomyworld13 @arcadiaem @annpeachy @senaqsstuff @youphoriajk @lidiyastuff @amarawayne @lalaren @gaslysainz @kookawae @starlight-1010 @vicurious28 @instantprofessorhorsecop @namggukie @mimi12nme @notsooperfect

[infiresyg93]

OPEN ARMS

©doomgurlfics .ೃ࿐

Synopsis: After facing a tragic incident that leaves Jungkook a single parent, he quickly realizes that raising a baby alone is more than overwhelming—it’s all-consuming. Stretched thin, he reaches out to a home care agency, and in walks you: a caretaker with a warm touch and a steady heart, eager to help.

Your only goal is to support the little girl you’ve been assigned to, but as you spend time in the Jeon household, you realize that the newborn isn’t the only one in need of nurturing.

Pairing: Non Idol Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 6,043

Content: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, A/B/O (no turning), Angst, Single Parent, unrequited x Namjoon, Grieving Jungkook, POC Y/N

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Possible slow uploads, Cursing/Coarse language, Eventual smut, Mentions of death, Emotionally constipated Jungkook

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Hi beautiful people! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ Part four is hereeee! I hope you guys like it!! I’ve been enjoying reading your comments and it makes me smile to know you guys are enjoying Open Arms so far🫶🏽! I’ve had some days off from work so I’ve been able to bust out a few chapters, but things might slow down so bear with me🙏🏽🙏🏽! But other than that, I hope you guys enjoyyy!

PART FOUR

Why the hell did he say that?

Embarrassment hits Jungkook instantly, the memory of the shocked look on Y/N’s face flashing in his mind. Heat surges up his neck, and he clenches his jaw, fighting to keep his composure.

That damn smile. That scent. It sends his already-delusional Alpha into a spiral every time she’s near. Disrupting his rhythm, clouding his head, making it impossible to function the way he used to.

If he knew that lending Y/N his clothes would leave him taking cold showers for days, her curvy body filling out his baggy shorts just right, he never would have offered in the first place.

Dragging a hand down his face, he sighs.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

At first, it was easy to write off the way Y/N makes him feel. Simple attraction. She’s gorgeous, polite—it’s natural to notice. Harmless.

But after weeks of her scent seeping into every corner of his home, after hearing her laugh echo down his hallways, after watching the way Nori relaxes in her arms, soothed by her presence in a way that catches him completely off guard…

He knows he’s in trouble.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

Not now. Not when he’s still trying to process Jiyoo’s death. It feels too soon.

Jungkook sets his mug down, the bitterness of his coffee suddenly unbearable as grief rises up and ruins the taste.

How the hell did things end up like this?

He looks down at Nori in his arms.

People always say she’s his spitting image.

And sure, they share the same nose and doe eyes. But to Jungkook, she’s her mother’s daughter through and through.

The way her brows scrunch when she’s uncomfortable.

The pout she wears when she’s hungry.

The thick, unruly hair—identical to Jiyoo’s.

The universe robbed Jiyoo of meeting their beautiful creation.

Why did the arrival of one miracle have to come at the cost of another?

A single tear lands on Nori’s cheek.

It takes Jungkook a moment to realize it’s his own.

He exhales slowly, chest tight as he gathers himself.

He can’t fall apart. Not now.

Not when Nori needs him to hold it together.

The week passes slowly. Slower than it would have if the cheerful, chatty omega were around. Jungkook had taken the time off to focus on Nori, and to get all of Bam’s vaccinations squared away.

He hadn’t been back at work long, but even a few days away from his daughter felt strange. He missed his little sidekick more than he expected.

Now, the three of them lie stretched across Nori’s play mat, Bam curled up nearby, chewing on his own tail like a fool. Jungkook tries to encourage some much-needed tummy time, but Nori isn’t having it. She rests her cheek against the mat, watching Bam’s antics with zero interest.

Jungkook snaps a few pictures anyway, grinning to himself. Without thinking, he sends one to Y/N.

He doesn’t know why. It just feels right.

She replies a few minutes later with an explosion of emojis and a dramatic reaction about how cute they are. He can almost hear her voice in the message. Warm, unfiltered joy in every word.

He starts typing a reply, but an incoming call interrupts him. The name flashing on his screen makes his stomach drop.

Fuck.

He sits up slowly, jaw tightening before he reluctantly accepts the call.

“Wow. I’m surprised you answered,” Jen’s voice cuts through with that same old venom. “Usually you let me go to voicemail like a coward.”

Not even fifteen seconds in and she’s already on the attack. Jungkook bites back the urge to hang up.

“What do you want, Jen?” he says, struggling—and failing—to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“You know what I want. I want to see my granddaughter!” she snaps. “You send me two pictures a month like that’s supposed to suffice?”

“Then come see her,” Jungkook says flatly. “You know where I live.”

“Like hell I’m crossing packs to visit you. You traitor.” Her voice cracks with disdain. “Man up and come back. She can’t grow not having a relationship with her grandparents. Jiyoo wouldn’t want this.”

There it is.

The guilt. The weapon she always uses.

Her words land like a slap, even though he saw them coming from a mile away.

Jungkook closes his eyes for a beat.

Jen had never liked him. No matter how hard he tried, it was never enough. He was too unconventional in her eyes. Too modern. Too unbothered by outdated hierarchies and rigid traditions.

But his old pack had become too restrictive. Too suffocating. Especially after Nori was born.

Especially after Jiyoo died.

“You don’t get to throw Jiyoo’s name around like that,” Jungkook growls, his voice sharp now. “You didn’t even like how she lived her life. Don’t act like you cared so deeply when all you ever did was try to control her.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end before Jen scoffs, bitter and loud. “You arrogant little shit. If she had listened to me, she wouldn’t have ended up in your bed in the first place. She’d still be alive.”

The words hit harder than anything else she’s said.

Jungkook stands abruptly, the sudden movement startling Bam. His hand grips the edge of the sofa, knuckles turning white.

“She was pregnant and unmarked! No mate! No bond-“

“She wanted it that way!” Jungkook snaps. “She didn’t want to complete the bond. She made that choice. We both did.”

He’s breathing heavily now, his chest heaving with the weight of everything he’s held back for months.

“I loved her,” he says, voice breaking slightly. “Maybe not in the way you wanted me to. But I respected her. I cared for her. I’m raising our daughter the best I fucking can—and I won’t let you rewrite history to suit your guilt.”

Jen is quiet this time. And when she speaks, her voice is lower, icier.

“You’re just a pathetic excuse for an Alpha. You couldn’t even protect her. You think you’re doing right by Nori? You’ve already taken too much from her. You can’t give her what she needs.”

“That’s not your call,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth. “You’re not her mother. You’re not her guardian. And if you keep trying to cross that line, I will block your number permanently.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply.

He ends the call with a sharp tap, heart thudding in his chest, hands trembling slightly.

It takes a moment for the world to settle around him again. The faint shuffle of Nori’s tiny fingers brushing the mat. The quiet jingle of Bam’s collar as he watches Jungkook warily from across the room.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath.

There was nothing clean about this grief. No rule book for parenting in its shadow.

But he had Nori. And that was all that mattered.

Every day, Jungkook questioned his decision to leave his old pack—his family, his history, the roots that once grounded him. But phone calls like this… they reminded him exactly what he’d walked away from.

A pack too rigid to bend. Too proud to change. They clung to tradition like it was gospel, no room for nuance, for evolving. His pain, his choices, Jiyoo’s wishes—they were all inconveniences to be corrected or condemned.

They didn’t mourn Jiyoo for the woman she was. They mourned her for the role she didn’t fulfill. A quiet mate, a bonded Omega, a mother who followed the rules.

They’d been close, friends for years. Trusted each other, leaned on each other. And one night, in a shared moment of vulnerability, they crossed that line. They both knew it didn’t feel right, not in that way, but the mistake was made.

And then she got pregnant.

Her mother, Jen, had been relentless. Demanding they make it work. Pushing them into something they weren’t. A relationship neither of them wanted.

They tried, for the sake of peace. For the sake of what they thought Nori might need. But it wasn’t long before the cracks showed—too much resentment, too much pretending. It was never love, not in the romantic sense. And Jungkook knew Jiyoo deserved more than forced obligation.

When she passed, Jen turned that pressure into blame. Into bitterness. As if Jungkook had stolen something. As if love and loss were things that could be shaped into what she wanted, if only he had followed the rules.

But Jiyoo had never wanted those rules either.

Now, he was doing what he could with the pieces left behind. Raising Nori in a space full of warmth, not judgment. Full of freedom, not fear.

He looked down at the sleeping baby, Bam curled around her, her chubby hand buried in the puppy’s fur.

This was his family now. And for them, he’d fight the world.

Jungkook was knee-deep into his shift, pacing the southern edge of the territory with steady, silent steps. His uniform was crisp, boots scuffing quietly against the gravel path—but his mind was anything but composed.

Was he wrong? Was he isolating Nori from a family she deserved to know?

The questions haunted him, gnawed at the fragile peace he tried so hard to build. And now, everything felt off.

Especially things with Y/N.

He’d been distant the whole week, ever since the phone call. Clipped. Short. Shutting her out before she could even try to understand. It wasn’t her fault, and he knew that. But the guilt of being seen, of feeling vulnerable, made him retreat.

He could feel his fuse drawing shorter as the week progressed, and he fought hard not to snap, but it happened. All over her cleaning his fucking room.

He kicks at a rock angrily. Why did he have to be such a dick.

He could’ve set a boundary without tearing her down.

Could’ve told her calmly that his room was off-limits. That he needed space. That it wasn’t about her.

But no, he had to lash out like some cornered animal. Had to let his guilt and grief do the talking.

“You’re not my maid,” he muttered under his breath, kicking at a rock again as if it was the one who’d said it. The words replayed in his head like a sick mantra, each time slicing deeper. “Just do your job.”

Fuck.

That wasn’t setting a boundary. That was pushing her away.

That was weaponizing his own pain and throwing it at the only person who hadn’t asked anything of him except to help.

She didn’t deserve that.

The image of her standing by the fridge, blinking back tears, haunted him more than he cared to admit. She didn’t fight back. She didn’t yell. She just apologized, gathered her things, and left.

Since then, Y/N has stuck by her word. She only does chores that pertain to Nori. Cleaning the house being the extent of her grace.

She doesn’t stay late, doesn’t ask him about his day. Just gives a report on Nori’s wellbeing and heads off.

And he hates it.

Hates the way Nori wines when she leaves.

Hates the silence that stretches between them like a wall he built himself.

She still smiles, still plays with Nori like nothing’s changed, but he feels it. The subtle shift in the air. The professional tone in her voice. The way her laugh doesn’t quite reach her eyes anymore.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung’s voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. “What the fuck, I’ve called you five times already. You good?”

He strides over, two sandwiches in hand, and tosses one to Jungkook without waiting for a reply. Jungkook catches it with a grunt and sinks down onto the bench beside him.

Taehyung watches him expectantly, already biting into his sandwich.

With a sigh, Jungkook unwraps his and mutters, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Taehyung says with a full mouth. “You’ve been walking around broodingly for days with that emo ass glare. What happened?”

Jungkook exhales slowly through his nose. “Jen called, fucked up my psyche and I snapped at Y/N, now she treats me like I’m invisible and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Hmm. Here’s an idea. Maybe apologize,” Taehyung says, giving him a deadpan stare.

Taehyung was one of the few constants in Jungkook’s life. His only real friend from the old pack. Like Jungkook, he hadn’t fit into the rigid mold expected of Alphas back home, so he left—moved here three years before Jungkook did. He was one of the reasons Jungkook seriously considered the move.

In some ways, Taehyung was a living reminder that change was survivable. Necessary, even.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I’ve tried. She doesn’t give me the time of day anymore. As soon as I walk through the door, she’s got her shoes on, ready to leave.”

“By ‘tried’ do you mean you stared at her with those sad doe eyes, hoping they’d do the work for you?” Taehyung mocks, blinking his eyes comically. “We’re not six anymore, man. Women don’t dig emotionally constipated men. Trust me—I know firsthand.”

Like Jungkook, Taehyung had a daughter. But his fatherhood came under much different circumstances. The mother of his child was still in his life, and they were still together, happily.

They met not long after he transitioned to this pack, joined at the hip ever since. While Jungkook loved Taehyung like a brother, his presence was a constant reminder that he may never have that.

“I did try to apologize,” Jungkook mutters. “But she stopped me. Went on a whole tangent about how unprofessional she was… said she crossed a line and that it wouldn’t happen again.”

He rubs the back of his neck, guilt blooming in his chest. “She was more upset at herself than she was at me. Like I didn’t talk to her like shit.”

Taehyung turns to him, analyzing him slowly in that way he does as if he knows everything that goes on inside Jungkook’s brain. “Jen wasn’t the only reason you didn’t want her in your room was it?”

He’s fighting back a smirk, masking it as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

Jungkook looks at him confused, “What are you talking about man, you know how manipulative that woman is.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “And I’m not negating that, but I think there’s another reason as to why you snapped.”

Heat flares up Jungkook’s chest as he looks to away too quickly, giving himself away.

Taehyung stands up abruptly, tossing his trash in the dumpster like he just solved a damn crime. “Oh shit! You like her?”

“‘Like’ is a strong word,” Jungkook mutters, dropping his face into his hands. “And it’s too soon to think of anyone that way. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

“Don’t start with that self-deprecating shit, Kook. You like her. That explains why your ass has been sprinting home after every shift lately,” Taehyung whistles low, shaking his head with a grin. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Jungkook lifts his head, jaw tight. “Nothing. I told you—it’s too soon. I’m not ready for a relationship. I barely have time to breathe, let alone figure out how to date someone. Nori and work are all I can manage right now.”

He exhales, the words like a shield against a truth he isn’t ready to face.

“What Y/N and I have is a professional relationship. And I can’t afford to jeopardize that… not more than I already have.”

Taehyung raises a brow, but Jungkook looks away.

“Besides,” he adds quietly, bitterness slipping into his tone, “she’s already seeing someone.”

He doesn’t say Namjoon’s name, but it hangs there, unspoken, thick in the air between them.

Y/N never technically admitted to dating him. Always brushed it off with a casual “He’s just a friend.”

But Jungkook wasn’t an idiot.

He saw the way she said his name, soft, familiar. The way her eyes lingered when Namjoon entered the room, like he centered her whole damn universe.

It pissed him off more than it should.

“I’m tired of talking about this shit,” Jungkook mutters, standing up abruptly. “Let’s just get back to work.”

He marches off before Taehyung can say another word.

Behind him, Taehyung only tsks under his breath, watching his best friend retreat with that signature storm cloud over his head.

He doesn’t chase after him.

Jungkook will come to his senses eventually.

He always does. Especially when it comes to the things that matter.

Another full week of this awkward standoff, and it’s driving Jungkook insane.

He’s tried to block out the conversation with Taehyung, tried to push past the realization that came with it—but the truth clings like smoke, impossible to ignore.

Y/N’s scent is embedded in his home, and worse, in his mind.

He’s always been sensitive to scent, easily overwhelmed by the storm of other people’s pheromones. But hers? That soft, cashmere-warm scent? It unravels him. Makes it impossible to focus, to breathe, some days.

His bedroom used to be a reprieve. The only space untouched by her presence. But after she cleaned it—it’s all he could smell. And he hated how much he liked it. How it comforted him. How it made him ache.

Now, even though her scent has faded from his room, it still lingers in the house.

On Nori.

On the couch she sits on.

On the mug she uses in the mornings.

It’s everywhere. And nowhere. Just like her.

Jungkook rests his forehead against the steering wheel, jaw tight, fingers gripping the leather like it might ground him.

Why the hell is he hesitating to go inside his own home?

Part of him aches to see Nori.

He misses her every second he’s away. Her gummy smile, her sleepy babble, the way she clings to his shirt like he’s her entire world. That kind of love grounds him.

But the other part of him, the part twisted up in guilt, dreads the moment his keys hit the door.

Not because of anything Y/N’s done, no, she’s been nothing but respectful, professional, distant. And that’s the problem.

He dreads the flicker of retreat in her eyes when he walks in. The way she gathers her things a little too quickly, avoids lingering like she used to. No more asking about his day. No more soft, offhanded jokes that used to loosen his shoulders.

It’s like she’s building walls between them, and the worst part is, he’s the one who laid the first brick.

Bam rushes to greet him as he steps inside, doing figure eights between his legs as he removes his shoes. The puppy was growing steadily, so Jungkook spent extra time with training him. Though he wasn’t seeing much results.

Y/N’s in the living room with Nori, placing her in the rocker. He doesn’t miss how she tenses slightly as he approaches, a pang of sadness filling his chest.

“Hey,” he starts, scratching his neck slightly.

She gives a tight lipped smile. “Hi. Nori was great as always. Though her midday nap was a little shorter than usual so she’ll probably go down early tonight. But other than that she had an amazing day and her neck strength is getting stronger.”

She goes to step around him, but Jungkook stops her, brushing his fingers along her wrist before pulling back.

“Sorry, uh, do you have a minute?” He says scratching the back of his neck.

She looks at the clock, then back at him, before nodding stiffly.

“I just…I really want to apologize for how I snapped on you that night. It wasn’t fair to you and I know you were just trying to help. I just-“ he hesitates, wondering if he should say it, knowing this will reveal a deeper insight to his complex life.

“I got a call from Nori’s grandmother. Her mom’s mom,” he says slowly. “And… we don’t really see eye to eye. She said some things that got in my head. Made me question if I’m doing enough. If I’m doing anything right, honestly.”

Y/N’s expression softens, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“I let all that frustration sit in me. And I took it out on you.” His voice is tight with guilt. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that.”

He watches her closely, trying to gauge if she’s going to say something. Her arms are crossed loosely over her chest, brows pinched, but she doesn’t look angry—just guarded. Tired.

Finally, she nods. “Thank you. I appreciate the apology. But you don’t have to be sorry for setting a boundary with me. It gave me clarity. Now I know where we stand and what is expected of me.”

She attempts to leave again, but Jungkook follows her.

“Y/N, wait—please. It was a poor choice of words.”

She pauses, her hand resting on the strap of her bag but her gaze fixed ahead. Slowly, she turns to face him.

Jungkook exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I didn���t mean to reduce everything you’ve done to just a job. You’re not just Nori’s caretaker. You’ve been… more than that. To her. To me.”

She swallows, but says nothing.

“I just—I’ve never had anyone offer to help the way you do. And I didn’t know how to handle it. Especially not with everything else going on.”

He looks at her then, fully. Vulnerably.

“I pushed you away because I didn’t want you to see me unraveling.”

A beat of silence.

“I saw it anyway,” she says softly, not unkindly. “That’s the thing about grief, Jungkook. It doesn’t make you weak. It just makes you human.”

His jaw flexes, shame rippling across his features.

“But I get it,” she adds. “I don’t hold it against you. I just needed to protect my own peace after that night. That’s all.”

She gives him a look that’s not cold, but final, and this time when she turns to go, he doesn’t follow.

Jungkook stands there in the silence she leaves behind, fists clenching at his sides. He wanted more—wanted to fix things, rewind time, do better. But maybe this is what he deserves.

He runs a frustrated hand down his face, as he flops down own the couch, Bam joining him as Nori fights sleep in her rocker, her little fists curling and uncurling as her lashes flutter.

The sharp choke and sputter of an engine trying, and failing, to turn over pulls him from his thoughts. He sits up, confused. Another failed crank, followed by a brief, defeated silence.

He heads toward the door, stepping outside just in time to see Y/N pop the hood of her car with a quiet curse.

The look on her face when she sees him is all reluctant embarrassment.

He raises a brow, folding his arms. “Need a jump?”

She lets the hood fall with a thunk. “I think she’s past that. She’s not even clicking anymore.”

Jungkook pats his pocket for his keys, “Give me a sec,” he shouts heading back into the house.

He hears Y/N refusing from the driveway but he doesn’t pay her any mind.

He wrangles a very drowsy Nori into her car seat, grabbing a blanket and her diaper bag, before putting Bam in his crate.

As he exits the house, locking it, Y/N speaks up. “Jungkook you don’t have to drive me, my brother is already on his way.”

He shakes his head. “Tell him to turn around.” He secures Nori’s car seat in the back, before turning to Y/N, holding the passer door open.

She reluctantly complies, getting in and giving him a weak smile. Thank God, Jungkook thinks to himself, shutting her door and getting in the drivers seat.

The drive is quiet, but not tense, at least not in the way it was earlier. Nori’s soft breathing fills the car from the backseat, her tiny hands curled into fists over the blanket. Jungkook glances at her through the rearview mirror, then over at Y/N, who’s been oddly quiet since they pulled off.

“I’ll call the tow shop first thing tomorrow,” she finally says, her voice breaking the silence. “I really don’t want to leave my car in your driveway. I know it’s probably in the way—”

“It’s not,” Jungkook says before she can finish.

She hesitates, then goes on like she didn’t hear him. “Still. I’ll try to have it moved by lunch, depending on their schedule. I know you have a routine—”

“Y/N,” he cuts in again, this time turning to glance at her when the car stops at a red light. “It’s fine. You’re not in the way.”

He sees her shift in her seat, lips parting like she wants to argue, but for once, she doesn’t. Just folds her hands in her lap and nods softly.

She doesn’t realize he meant more than just her car. But maybe that’s for the best.

The ride goes quicker than Jungkook’s hoped for and they pull up to Y/N’s apartment complex in under twenty minutes.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” Y/N says as she unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her bag.

“No problem, Y/N.”

She opens the door and steps out, and for a second, Jungkook thinks that’s it.

But she lingers.

Leaning into the open car door, she looks back at him with a softer expression than he expected. “Tell Nori I said goodnight, okay?”

He nods, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Will do.”

Then she gives him one of those faint smiles, small, but real, and closes the door gently behind her.

He watches her walk up the steps, unlocking the building’s front entrance before slipping inside. Only when the door shuts behind her does he finally let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

The silence in the car feels heavier now.

He glances back at Nori, still sleeping peacefully in her seat. She stirs slightly, like even in her sleep, she can feel the shift in him.

Jungkook starts the engine again and drives off.

Hoping they could salvage their friendship…or whatever it was becoming.

Saturday comes and Jungkook decides he needs to get to out of the house. So after Nori’s morning routine he decides to head out for some much needed fresh air.

That’s how he ended up at the park, juggling a rambunctious Bam and Nori’s stroller filled to the brim with her necessities.

He’s halfway through his walk when he sees her.

Y/N.

Lounging on a park bench, reading a book. She looks peaceful as she reaches for a snack, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s being watched.

Feeling torn, Jungkook’s decides to turn back the way he came, but it seems he made that decision a tad too late as Bam takes sight of her and runs off, the Leash slipping out of Jungkook’s grasp.

“Shit—Bam!” Jungkook takes off after the pup, stroller wheels bumping over the uneven path as he struggles to keep up.

Bam barrels forward, full of chaotic puppy energy, completely ignoring the calls of his flustered owner. The leash drags behind him like a streamer, and within seconds he’s reached his target.

She startles as Bam launches himself into her lap, tail wagging like a motor. Her book goes flying, and her startled laugh rings out through the air.

“Bam?” She says in surprise, untangling herself from the leash. “What on earth—”

“I am so sorry,” Jungkook breathes as he finally catches up, stopping a few feet away and bracing a hand on the stroller.

“It’s fine,” she laughs, gently batting away Bam’s slobbery kisses. “Bam! We talked about this—no kisses on the face, remember?”

Jungkook exhales, finally catching his breath, while Bam continues wagging his tail like a maniac, clearly proud of his ambush.

Y/N rises from the bench, taking a few steps toward the stroller, where Nori’s gummy smile brightens at the sight of her.

“Hi pretty girl,” Y/N coos instinctively, reaching for her, and then pauses, eyes flicking to Jungkook for permission.

He nods and she picks Nori up, swaying her softly as Nori rests her head on her chest. His Alpha instincts practically hum with approval. His chest tightens, pride and something warmer bubbling in his gut.

A fond smile sits on his face, one he doesn’t even realize until Y/N glances at him.

He looks away quickly, ears burning. “What?” he asks, a beat too defensive.

“Why,” she starts, voice low but teasing, “do you have her in a long-sleeve onesie when it’s over seventy degrees out?”

Jungkook blinks, glancing down at Nori’s outfit. He didn’t even think about the weather. Nori was born in the winter so her wardrobe mainly consisted of winter clothes. He hadn’t planned this far.

“I, uh, I don’t think she has any warm clothes,” Jungkook says scratching his neck.

“Well,” Y/N says placing Nori back in the stroller, “You and your daddy have some shopping to do,” she boops Nori’s nose.

“Right. I should probably get on that,” Jungkook says voice trailing off. “Do you, uh, know anywhere I could shop?”

“Oh yeah! There’s a boutique right in town that has tons of baby clothes. It’s called Button & Bloom right across from the new ice cream shop that opened up.”

Jungkook fakes confusion. He’s not familiar with the boutique per se, but he knows the area. He’s more than capable of finding it on his own. Y/N doesn’t need to know that though.

“For some reason I can’t seem to picture it,” Jungkook says, tilting his head like he’s genuinely stumped.

Y/N stares at him, long and hard, and Jungkook almost thinks his act is caught. Her eyes narrow slightly, skeptical.

“I guess I could show you,” she says finally, grabbing her tote bag. “I was planning to stop by the library anyway.”

A pang of guilt cuts through Jungkook’s chest.

“No, Y/N—it’s okay.” He shifts Nori’s stroller slightly, voice sincere. “I don’t want to take away from your time. It’s your day off.”

She pauses, eyes softening just a bit. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“But it is your time,” he insists, clearing his throat. “You already do enough during the week, I shouldn’t be dragging you around on a Saturday too.”

“Oh come on, stop acting like this wasn’t your plan all along,” she says with a soft laugh, already taking off in the direction of town, tote bag swinging at her side.

“What?!” Jungkook calls after her, flustered, pushing the stroller to catch up. “It wasn’t—I mean, I couldn’t picture the shop but I’m sure I could find it!”

“Mhm, she hums, not bothering to look at him as she walks ahead. There’s only fifteen shops in town, it can’t be that hard to forget.”

Lighter on his feet, Jungkook’s walks alongside Y/N to town. At some point, she ends up grabbing Bam’s leash. The excited puppy pulling her down the sidewalk.

It’s fun to watch.

It’s been a few weeks since Jungkook’s felt this light, and he’s beginning to see a possibility of him and Y/N getting back on track.

They end up arriving at the library first, which is only one block ahead of the boutique. “Well, this is me. Just keep straight and you can’t miss it. Tell them I sent you and you’ll get a discount since I used to watch one of the owners kids,” She says walking up the library steps.

“Oh, ok,” Jungkook says. For a second he thought they were going together. Y/N disappears into the library with a final goodbye, while Jungkook watches from the sidewalk.

He reluctantly continues on the trek to the Boutique, and Y/N was right, you definitely can’t miss it. The bright sign sticks out compared to the rusted ones adjacent.

Jungkook ties Bam’ leash to a tree, hoping he doesn’t escape, or kill himself, and walks inside the boutique, a bell chiming as he enters.

“Welcome!” A middle aged woman says from the counter, her eyes brightening as she takes in Jungkook. “This must be your first time? I would recognize a face that handsome,” she giggles to herself as she comes around the corner, peering down at Nori’s walker.

“And who is this precious baby girl?” the omega coos, bending down to smile at Nori.

Nori kicks her feet, blinking up at the stranger with a neutral expression, her pacifier bobbing in her mouth. She doesn’t cry, but she doesn’t exactly beam either.

Jungkook clears his throat. “That’s Nori. My daughter.”

The woman straightens up, giving him another once-over with an almost mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, she’s gorgeous. Takes after her dad, clearly.” She winks, and Jungkook shifts awkwardly.

“What brings you in today?”

He glances around the boutique, searching for a distraction. “I, uh… need spring clothes for her. Lighter stuff. Onesies, rompers, I don’t know.”

“Ah, first time dad?” she asks, already walking toward the racks.

“Something like that,” he mutters.

The woman gestures for him to follow. “Well, you’re in good hands. I’ve got two of my own and I basically live in this store.”

Jungkook trails behind, nodding along as she rattles off fabric types and sizes. He picks up a tiny sundress and turns it over in his hand, wondering if Y/N would approve.

The store owner fills his cart up with onesies, rompers, dresses, bathing suits and more, all ranging in sizes. Jungkook hopes this is enough to get Nori through both spring and summer when he sees the total price.

He thanks, who learns to be Sarenna, again for her help and heads out, more than ready to head home. Nori is going to need her nap soon.

But Bam is nowhere to be seen. The tree he tied him to bare as a bone. Jungkook looks around the street confused, alarm bells ringing in his head.

“Bam!” He calls out. “Bam come here, boy!”

He’s two seconds from spiraling when he spots a familiar figure stepping out of the new ice cream shop across the street.

Y/N.

She’s got Bam’s leash in one hand and a small paper bag in the other, her face relaxed as she bends slightly to say something to the dog. Bam’s tail is wagging so hard it looks like he might take flight.

Jungkook freezes on the sidewalk, tension draining from his body as relief floods him all over again.

She crosses the street, holding out a brown paper bag.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you freak out,” she says, a little breathless. “I should’ve texted you, but Bam looked so hot and he was spinning his leash around the tree so fast I was sure he’d choke himself.”

She pushes the bag toward him. “I got him some pup-cream. I hope that’s okay.”

Jungkook glances at Bam, who is now sitting obediently, tongue lolling out and looking far too pleased with himself, and then down at the small paper bag in Y/N’s hand.

He blinks, overwhelmed in the best way. “You bought my dog ice cream?”

She smiles, brushing a loose curl out of her face. “Well, yeah. Everyone deserves a sweet treat.”

“And where’s mine?” he asks, attempting to be playful. Not expecting what she says next.

“In the bag. ” she pats Bam one final time and adjusts Nori’s visor to block the sun. “Anyway, I gotta run, Simeon and I are catching a movie. But I’ll see you Monday.”

She flashes him one last smile before walking off.

“See you,” Jungkook calls, a little too delayed. He watches her until she rounds the corner, the sway of her hair bouncing behind her.

Curious, he opens the brown bag and finds two small containers inside—one labeled Pup-Cream and the other his own. A folded napkin sits between them.

He unfolds it, smiling as he reads the scrawled note.

A peace offering! Let’s start over :) P.S. — don’t give Bam the whole ice cream in one sitting or he’ll get the shits.

Jungkook chuckles quietly to himself, shaking his head.

Maybe things weren’t too far gone after all.

——

Read Part Five Here! Masterpost

A/N: Thank you guys so much for over 100 followers!! I’m still in awe, you guys are literally amazing! I’m preparing a 100 followers gift, so please check out the pole and vote! Also if you want to be added to the taglist at any point just leave a comment! I love hearing your feedback so always fill free to share!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

Taglist: @canarystwin @smut02 @32saucy-minx @hoelychildofgod @jadestonedaeho7 @nisrine1622 @jolenewb @welcometomyworld13 @arcadiaem @annpeachy @senaqsstuff

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OPEN ARMS

©doomgurlfics .ೃ࿐

Synopsis: After facing a tragic incident that leaves Jungkook a single parent, he quickly realizes that raising a baby alone is more than overwhelming—it’s all-consuming. Stretched thin, he reaches out to a home care agency, and in walks you: a caretaker with a warm touch and a steady heart, eager to help.

Your only goal is to support the little girl you’ve been assigned to, but as you spend time in the Jeon household, you realize that the newborn isn’t the only one in need of nurturing.

Pairing: Non Idol Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 7,076

Content: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, A/B/O (no turning), Angst, Single Parent, unrequited x Namjoon, Grieving Jungkook, POC Y/N

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Possible slow uploads, Cursing/Coarse language, Eventual smut, Mentions of death, Emotionally constipated Jungkook

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Hi beautiful people! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ Part 3 is here!! I’m so excited to share it with you all, I’ve been working diligently on it all day to get it out!! I hope you guys like it, it is longer than the first two parts!! I can’t guarantee all chapters will be this long, but we’ll see. Anyways happy reading!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

PART THREE

The grocery store was busier than usual for a Wednesday, a quiet buzz of urgency threading through the aisles. Pack members weaved around each other with full carts, stocking up before the spring thunderstorm rolled in. The shelves were half-empty already—clear signs of a community preparing to bunker down.

Since Jungkook had gone back to work two weeks ago, he hadn’t had time to run errands, so you offered to help. You didn’t mind. These kinds of things came naturally now.

You scratched another item off the list with the edge of your thumb, glancing down at the little one strapped snug against your chest.

Nori stirred in the carrier, her wide, curious eyes scanning the colorful shelves as her pacifier bobbed in her mouth. She’d just turned three months old, which meant she was staying awake a little longer each day, just enough to take in the world in soft, blinking doses.

Her lashes fluttered, slow and heavy. You smiled, brushing a finger gently along her cheek. She wouldn’t stay awake much longer.

You make it back to Jungkook’s house just as the first droplets begin to fall. The wind has picked up, carrying the scent of rain and the low rumble of distant thunder.

With Nori bundled close and the groceries filling both arms, you manage to get everything inside just before the downpour begins in earnest.

After feeding Nori her bottle and rocking her gently in the dim nursery, you lay her down for her afternoon nap.

The house is still, save for the rain drumming steadily against the windows. You move through the kitchen, unloading bags and sorting items into cabinets, the rhythm of your chores calming.

That is, until the sharp chime of the security system echoes through the house.

Jungkook.

You turn just as the front door swings shut—and your breath catches. He’s completely soaked, rain dripping from the ends of his dark hair, his clothes plastered to his frame. His black uniform clinging to every line of muscle, the fabric like a second skin as it hugs his chest and shoulders.

You blink. Hard.

“I didn’t realize it got that bad out there,” you say, voice slightly higher than usual.

He exhales a shallow breath, raking a wet hand through his hair. “Neither did I.”

You nod too quickly, already spinning on your heel. “Let me get you a towel,” you blurt, nearly tripping over your own feet as you dart toward the bathroom.

When you return, towel in hand, Jungkook’s already peeled off his shoes, along with his shirt.

You halt mid-step.

Raindrops cling to his skin, rolling slowly down the lines of his torso. His damp hair hangs low over his forehead, and the steady rise and fall of his chest makes it suddenly hard to look away. Heat creeps up your neck before you can stop it.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching for the towel.

You pass it to him, careful to keep your eyes fixed somewhere, anywhere, but on him.

“Uh, Nori’s asleep,” you manage, clearing your throat. “She’ll probably be down for another forty-five minutes. Dinner’s ready, too. I made a big pot of soup and prepped some grilled cheeses for you.”

You start slipping on your shoes.

“Where are you going?” he asks, brows drawn.

“Home,” you reply, confused by his confusion. “It’s time for me to go.”

“In the middle of a storm?” Jungkook’s tone sharpens, firm but not unkind. “Y/N, no. Stay until the rain lets up.”

You blink up at him. The way he peers down at you, voice edged with quiet authority, makes it clear it’s not really a suggestion.

“Right. Okay. I’ll just, um… go make the grilled cheeses then.”

He lets out a breath, rubbing the towel through his hair. “Y/N, I didn’t ask you to stay so you could keep working. Go relax. I need a shower anyway, I’ll finish dinner when I’m out.”

And with that, he turns and disappears down the hallway, leaving you standing in the entryway, dumbfounded.

Jungkook was one hard code to crack.

In the two weeks since he returned to work, he’d gradually warmed to your presence. Or maybe “tolerated” was a better word. He rarely spoke outside of things concerning Nori. He refused to let you do more than what was in your job description. And he almost never took no for an answer.

Heading to the couch, you shoot a quick text to Simeon, letting him know you’ll be late. You watch the storm for a few minutes, scroll on your socials, before getting up, bored of doing nothing.

You head to the kitchen and turn the pot of soup on low, oiling up another pan for the grilled cheeses. You prepped two for Jungkook, knowing he’d be hungry, so you make out one more for yourself, just as Jungkook enters the kitchen.

“I told you I could finish dinner,” Jungkook says, his deep voice cutting through the quiet and startling you. You spin around, spatula in hand, eyes wide.

“I know—I just got bored,” you admit, shrugging with a sheepish smile. “Couldn’t sit still any longer.”

He crosses the room in slow steps, now dressed in clean sweats and a fitted tee that does little to hide the bulk of his frame. His hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends. He glances at the stove, then at you, then back again.

“What kind of soup is this?” he asks, lifting the lid as steam rises.

“Chicken noodle. It’s my mom’s recipe,” you say with a soft smile. “She used to make it every time it rained.”

“It smells good,” he replies, causing your smile to brighten. You love compliments on your food.

A strike of lightening displays through the kitchen window, followed by a crack of thunder.

“Let me go check on Nori,” you say, quickly setting down your spatula as you run off in the direction of the nursery.

“Y/N, let me—” Jungkook starts, but you don’t let him finish, already halfway down the hall.

The nursery glows with warm lamplight as you push the door open. Nori is awake, her big brown eyes wide and glossy, blinking slowly up at the mobile spinning above her. She makes a soft noise around her pacifier, kicking her legs beneath the swaddle blanket.

“Hey, little bean,” you whisper, crossing the room and leaning over the crib. She lets out a small coo when she sees you, her tiny fists flailing as if to reach for you.

You smile, heart swelling at how alert she is. “The thunder woke you, huh?”

She wiggles harder in response, clearly not upset, just restless. You scoop her up gently and hold her against your chest. Her head finds your shoulder naturally, and you bounce her lightly as you hum something low and soft—one of those made-up lullabies she seems to like.

Back in the kitchen, you see that Jungkook has already plated dinner. You pull Nori’s rocker near the island placing her in it and setting it on low as you join Jungkook.

“I’m starting to think you’re a workaholic,” Jungkook says quirking a brow at you. The smallest hint of a smirk is drawn in his face, something you don’t see often.

“Taking care of Nori doesn’t feel like work to me,” you smile down at the baby before looking at him, surprised by his deep stare.

Jungkook had a way of looking at as if he was peering into your soul, unraveling you, layer by layer. It made you shiver, and not in a bad way.

You had no clue what that meant.

The two of you dig in as the storm carries on, growing with ferocity. Long after dinner Jungkook goes to check on the generator while you hang back and watch the news. Nori lays in your nap as she nurses off a bottle.

“What are they saying,” Jungkook says as he enters the living room. He heads over to you, picking up nori gently and continuing to feed her.

“The storm isn’t supposed to let up until 4 a.m. tonight and they’re issuing a flood warning. I think I might as well head home as it’s only going to get worse.

Jungkook frowns, glancing toward the darkened window as thunder rattles the walls again. “You’re not driving in this.”

You blink, caught off guard. “It’s not that bad yet—”

“It’s already bad,” he says, more firmly this time, eyes meeting yours. “And I’m not letting you risk it.”

You pause, lips parting, unsure whether to protest or… listen. There’s something in his tone, protective but not controlling.

“You can stay the night. Sleep in the guest room. I’ll prepare it for you.”

“Jungkook’s I’m sure I’ll be fine. If I drive slow, I can get home,” you insist and he gives you a hard stare.

“Y/N, please. Just stay.” Despite his glare, his tone is soft. Firm, but soft enough that you don’t argue anymore.

He walks out of the room with Nori, leaving you on the couch. Glancing out the window, you realize there was no way you could drive in that rain. The wind was whipping something terrible, the rain gushing down.

You sigh, leaning back into the cushions as you listen to the wind howl outside. Jungkook was right. The weather had gone from bad to impossible. You weren’t going anywhere tonight.

You watch the news for a little while before growing tired of it. Rising to your feet, you head down the hall toward the guest room. The door is already open, the lamp by the bed casting a soft glow against the cozy space. Fresh sheets, a folded blanket at the foot, and even a spare towel placed neatly on the chair.

You stand in the doorway, strangely moved. He didn’t just throw some pillows on a couch, he thought about your comfort.

But there was one problem, you had no change of clothes. “Is this ok?” Jungkook asks from behind you.

“Yes, it’s perfect. Though I don’t have a spare change of clothes,” you say with an awkward smile.

His eyes widen in surprise. “Right, uh let me check my room, I might have something you can fit.” He walks off before you can object.

You glance around the room again, fingers brushing the edge of the neatly folded blanket. The air feels heavier now, not from the storm, but from the awareness settling between the two of you.

Jungkook returns a moment later, holding a soft-looking black t-shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts.

“They might be a little big,” he says, handing them to you, “but the shirt’s clean and the shorts have a tie, so they shouldn’t fall off.”

You take them, fingers grazing his just briefly. “Thanks. This is perfect.”

“No problem.” He lingers for a second longer than he needs to, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for something unspoken. Then he clears his throat. “I’ll let you shower.”

He leaves again, closing the door with a soft click. Alone now, you shower in the adjacent bathroom and change into the borrowed clothes.

They smell faintly like his detergent, clean and warm, with a hint of his woodsy scent underneath. You pull the drawstring tight, roll the waistband once, and examine yourself in the mirror. It’s a little ridiculous how cozy you feel in them.

Realizing you left your phone in the living room, you tiptoe back, only to find Jungkook in the recliner, Nori fast asleep on his chest. Her tiny fist rests against his shirt, and he’s holding her with that quiet attentiveness that always catches you off guard.

“Sorry, I just forgot my phone,” you whisper, slipping by him.

A wave of his cedarwood scent follows you, grounding and familiar. You glance at him, just a flick of your eyes, but his are already on you. Focused. Heated. There’s a quiet intensity in the way he looks at you now, a flicker of something you don’t dare name.

You tug at the hem of his shirt, suddenly self-conscious, just as your phone lights up in your hand.

Namjoon.

You freeze. The name punches a hole in the moment, dragging you back to the parts of your life you’ve been trying not to think about.

“I should take this,” you murmur, stepping into the hallway.

You answer on the third ring, voice barely above a murmur. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Namjoon says. His voice is gentle, familiar, but… off. Like he doesn’t know how to start, and that alone puts you on edge.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “I just—” A pause. “I was driving past your place and noticed your car’s not there. Are you on your way home? You need to drive safe Y/N these roads aren’t-“

“Namjoon, slow down. I’m not driving,” you cut in, brows drawing together.

A beat. “Then where are you?”

You watch Jungkook walk into Nori’s nursery, most likely to put her to bed.

“I’m at Jungkook’s house,” you say, voice even.

The silence on the line stretches.

“Why? Your shift ended at five. It’s nine o’clock. Is he forcing you to do extra labor. Should I come get you I’m not too far away.”

Your roll your eyes. Namjoon has more of a reaction than Simeon did. All he gave you was thumbs up emoji.

“Namjoon seriously calm down, it wasn’t safe for me to drive home, so Jungkook offered to let me stay in the guest room. You should be focused on driving yourself, the roads are slick.”

You hear him exhale on the other end, and you can practically picture the tight crease between his brows as he processes that.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks, his voice a touch softer now.

As much as you wanted to be annoyed by his fussing, a small part of you still warmed at the fact that he cared.

“Yes Joon, I’m fine. Get home safe ok, text me when you’re in.”

“Okay,” he says, reluctant but compliant. You hang up and let out a long, quiet sigh, eyes lingering on the phone in your hand.

“Was that your brother?”

You glance up to find Jungkook standing in the doorway of Nori’s room, scratching the back of his neck. His voice is hesitant. “Sorry—I don’t mean to pry. Never mind.”

You smile faintly. “No, it’s okay. It was actually Namjoon. My brother doesn’t really keep tabs on me like that.”

Jungkook nods slowly, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “Are you and Namjoon… dating?” he asks, voice a little strained as he avoids your eyes.

You blink, taken off guard. Why does he care?

“No,” you answer, a little too quickly. “We’re not. He’s just… worrisome.”

Jungkook nods again, slow and thoughtful, though his gaze briefly flickers to the oversized tee hanging off your frame.

His mouth parts like he might say something more, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he offers a tight smile. “Alright then… good night.”

“Good night,” you echo softly, watching as he turns and disappears down the hallway, his footsteps light against the hardwood.

You’re left standing there in the hush of the living room, clutching your phone and feeling the weight of something unsaid settle into the quiet.

You didn’t end up leaving Jungkook’s house until noon the next day. He had the day off and insisted you stay until the worst of the rain passed—persistent in that quiet, firm way of his.

That was days ago. Now, it’s Saturday evening, and your apartment is full of noise and warmth, the hum of music and laughter spilling out from the living room. You’re hosting a small gathering with a few of you and Simeon’s shared friends, something casual.

It was supposed to be fun. A chance for everyone to unwind, catch up, and drink too much of that fruit punch Simeon swears he “spiked lightly.”

But then Simeon, in all his wisdom, decided to invite Namjoon’s current “situation” to the party.

You watch her and Namjoon interact from the opposite couch, all cuddled up and cozy. Arielle, that was her name.

You wanted to dislike her, really, you did, but it wasn’t in your nature. So you settle for hiding behind a tight, polite smile, nursing a drink that tastes more like regret than fruit punch.

“So, Y/N,” Jimin calls out from the armchair beside you, “how’s it going with Jungkook?”

You feel the attention in the room tilt toward you. Jimin, one of your closest friends since primary school, knows exactly when to pull you out of your own head.

“Uh, it’s going good! Nori’s adjusting really well,” you say, setting your drink down. “And Jungkook is…defrosting.”

That earns a few chuckles.

You grimace, half at the punch, half at the thought of Jungkook’s icy stares from a few weeks ago. “He’s warming up though. Slowly but surely.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, raising an eyebrow. “He doesn’t exactly scream approachable. That man has a glare that could—”

“Cut glass,” Namjoon says, tone a little too dry. “Honestly, I don’t know how you deal with him. He seems… rude.”

You blink, caught off guard. The room quiets just slightly, people pretending not to eavesdrop.

You clear your throat. “He’s not rude. He’s just reserved. And he has a lot on his plate.”

“Don’t we all,” Namjoon huffs. What the fuck is up with him. Since when did he have a problem with Jungkook.

“Namjoon, what is your beef?” you snap, louder than you intended.

Simeon looks up from the kitchen, brows raised in confusion. Arielle glances between the two of you, sensing the shift in energy.

Namjoon sighs, taking a slow sip from his cup. “There’s no beef, Y/N. I’m just concerned, that’s all. The guy seems like a ticking time bomb.”

What an odd thing to say.

You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Jungkook has never shown an ounce of aggression to deserve that kind of judgment,” you say, voice cool but firm. “He’s grieving and doing his best. I’ve never once felt unsafe in his home.”

Your tone sharpens. “Maybe the real concern is how quick you are to make assumptions about someone you barely know. Especially someone going through a very difficult time.”

You get up without another word, brushing off Jimin’s attempts to console you. You needed a minute.

Stepping outside your apartment, you let the door fall shut behind you. The cool night air meets your skin like a balm, grounding you in a way the crowded room couldn’t.

You weren’t sure why Namjoon’s words struck such a nerve, but you don’t regret standing up for Jungkook. Client or not, he didn’t deserve that.

Still, you can’t ignore the other reason your skin feels so tight.

Your omega had been restless all night. Agitated by the sight of Namjoon wrapped around someone else… and now, this. The confrontation only added fuel to the low-burning ache inside you. An ache you’d tried to ignore for too long.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep pining after Namjoon like a fool, clinging to old memories and wishful thinking.

Arielle’s presence was the clearest indicator yet. He didn’t see you the way you saw him. Didn’t want you like you wanted him. Maybe he never did.

That truth hits like a punch to the chest.

You lean against the railing, struggling to breathe through the pressure building in your lungs. Your heart feels like it’s being split straight down the middle—raw, aching, humiliated.

Watching him be gentle with someone else, looking at Arielle the way you dreamed he’d look at you?

It wrecks you.

Flying down the steps, you take off in the direction of the park, desperate for an escape. Going back into your apartment isn’t an option. Not with the risk of saying something you can’t take back.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Probably missed calls from Jimin or Simeon, but you ignore them.

It takes you longer to reach the park than usual. Your house slippers, now soaked and speckled with mud from the still-damp pavement, slow you down. You don’t care.

You follow the familiar trail, weaving through the trees until you reach your favorite spot. The moment you see it, your chest tightens. You kneel at the base of the old tree and brush your fingers across the weather-worn carving:

Y/N + Dad

You and your father used to sit here for hours. Feeding ducks, reading side by side, or simply sharing quiet company.

You miss those still moments the most. Miss the way his bright smile always made things feel less heavy. The way he used to promise you everything would be okay, and somehow, you believed him.

Tears blur your vision as you rest a hand against the bark, grounding yourself in the memory.

If only you’d had a little more time.

The breeze carries the distant rustle of leaves, the soft squeak of rubber wheels rolling over gravel, but it doesn’t register until it’s much closer.

You hear the gentle rhythm of footsteps behind you.

Then—

“Y/N?”

The voice is low. Familiar.

Turning slowly, you find Jungkook standing just a few feet away, hoodie pulled over his head, brows slightly furrowed in surprise. His hand rests on the stroller’s handle, where Nori sleeps soundly, bundled in a soft blanket. The expression on his face shifts from confused to quietly concerned.

“I didn’t expect—” he starts, but then his eyes catch the way you’re crouched in front of the tree, the damp grass on your knees, the way you try to blink away the redness in your eyes.

He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Instead, he exhales gently and asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod too quickly. “Yeah, I’m—” Your voice wobbles. You shake your head and look away. “I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

You stand abruptly and dust off yourself but it’s no use, these jeans were ruined. Wiping at your eyes you attempt to give Jungkook a reassuring smile. You fail.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this. It’s unprofessional of me and I was just heading home. I-“

Your voice falters as you try to brush the tears from your cheeks, averting your eyes.

But Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t judge. he doesn’t point out your ruined mascara or the mud-stained slippers. He just looks at you with that same quiet understanding he’s been showing more and more these days.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says gently. “Not to me.”

You glance at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. He shrugs, one hand still resting lightly on the stroller. “We all have days that pull too hard on us. You’ve been helping me hold it together since the minute you walked into my life. The least I can do is let you fall apart if you need to.”

Something tugs in your chest.

You swallow hard, the words nearly catching. “I just needed a moment.”

He nods, his gaze steady but not pressing. “I get it.”

You look past him at the stroller. Nori’s sleeping habits were getting so much better, with less disruptions during the nights.

Evening walks was something you suggested to Jungkook, so a part of you felt pleased that he was taking your advice.

“She looks so peaceful,” you say smiling softly.

“Yeah. I thought your sleep tips were elaborate at first, but I’m starting to see how helpful they are,” he says giving you the tiniest smirk.

You laugh lightly, the sound small but genuine. “Told you I know what I’m doing.”

There’s a beat of quiet again, not awkward, just… still. The air between you feels softer now, touched with something that wasn’t there before.

Jungkook glances down at Nori, then back at you. “Do you… want to walk back with us?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to, but it’s getting late, and I’d feel better if you didn’t walk alone.”

Your chest tightens just a bit. Something warm blooming at his quiet concern. You nod,“Yeah. I’d like that.”

And without another word, the two of you fall into step together, Nori asleep between you, the night calm and comforting as it wraps around the three of you.

“Well this is the route I usually take to go home,” you say softly as you approach where the sidewalk splits.

“Ok.” Jungkok says following you.

“No, Jungkook it’s ok. You have Nori. You should get her home, the sun has set,” you insist.

Even though your Pack was safe, with guards patrolling 24/7, it didn’t feel right keeping Jungkook and his baby out this late for you.

“Nonsense, let’s go,” he says, already steering the stroller to follow your path before you can protest again.

You blink, surprised by his tone—firm, but not harsh. Protective.

“I just want to make sure you make it home safe,” he adds, eyes ahead, but his words feel weighty in the quiet evening air.

You don’t argue this time. A soft heat creeps up your neck as you glance at him, the steady way he walks beside you, the rhythmic sound of Nori’s stroller wheels humming beneath the hush of night.

“Thank you,” you murmur after a moment, not just for the walk, but for everything. His presence, his patience, the way he doesn’t pry, just lets you be.

He glances at you then, mouth tugging into the faintest smile.

The walk back to your apartment is short, but your mind races, already dreading how you’re going to explain your absence to the group.

“Are you hosting a party or something?” Jungkook asks, slowing beside you. The smooth pulse of R&B music spills through the building’s windows, silhouettes of people dancing casting shadows against the curtain-lined glass.

“It was supposed to be a small gathering,” you sigh, pushing a laugh through your teeth. “But Simeon doesn’t really understand the word small.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, but the front door swings open before he can, revealing Namjoon.

“Y/N?” His eyes widen, concern written all over his face. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? It’s been over an hour.”

Beside you, Jungkook’s body stiffens. His cedarwood scent grows sharper, thicker—protective.

Namjoon’s expression shifts at the scent, his own pheromones flaring in response. Bright, clean, laced with bergamot and irritation.

“I left my phone on silent,” you say quickly, stepping forward, trying to create a buffer between them. “I just needed a break. Some air. I’m fine.”

Namjoon’s eyes drift to Jungkook, clearly trying to piece together how and why he’s here. But you don’t offer an explanation—and neither does Jungkook. The silence says enough, even if it says nothing at all.

Turning back to the father, you muster the most reassuring smile you can manage.

“Thank you for walking me home, Jungkook. I really appreciate it,” you say, voice warm but steady. “Get home safe. And don’t forget to check Nori’s temperature before bed. The humidity’s high tonight. Just make sure she’s not overheating.”

Jungkook gives a small nod, eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. “Got it.”

He glances once at Namjoon, unreadable, then back at you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You offer a soft “Goodnight,” watching him disappear down sidewalk with the stroller, his figure swallowed by the night.

Only when the door clicks shut behind you do you feel Namjoon’s gaze on you again.

And suddenly, you’re more exhausted than before.

“Y/N, can we talk?” Namjoon’s voice is quiet behind you. “I just want to apologize. I don’t know what came over me. I—”

“Please, Namjoon. Not tonight,” you say, cutting him off gently but firmly as you step over the scattered pile of shoes and make a beeline for your room.

You don’t wait for a response. You were done with conversations, done with tension, done with being polite.

You were over human interaction for the night.

The loud whirring of the vacuum pulls Nori from her nap, her tiny body shifting in the rocker as her face crumples. You wince, already powering it off as you crouch beside her.

“I’m sorry, sweet pea,” you coo gently, lifting her into your arms. Her fussing stops instantly, replaced by a soft sigh as she burrows into your chest.

You rock her a little, flipping the vacuum on and off in small bursts until she’s desensitized to the sound, then carry on with your cleaning—working faster now with her tucked against you in the carrier.

Over the past month, your bond with Nori had deepened more than you expected. In the beginning, you were nervous she wouldn’t take to your scent or energy, but she surprised you. These days, she was often teary when you left out of her sight.

As her breathing evens out again, you head to the kitchen to finish wrapping up dinner. Salmon, rice, and sweet potatoes tonight, something you noticed Jungkook always finished enjoyed. You didn’t ask if it was his favorite, but the consistent lack of leftovers spoke for itself.

You’re plating the last of the salmon when you hear the door creak open, followed by the unmistakable sound of claws scrambling against hardwood.

You peek around the kitchen archway, brow furrowing. “Jungkook?”

“Hey,” he calls, stepping into view, winded, a leash in one hand… attached to a wriggling, gangly Doberman puppy.

Your eyes widen. “What is that?”

“A puppy,” he deadpans, clearly exhausted. “He followed me home from patrol. Literally wouldn’t stop. I tried to leave him, I swear, but—he whined. Loudly. Like, full-on howling.”

You blink as the puppy pulls Jungkook toward the kitchen, nails skittering against the floor, tail wagging like mad. He lurches in your direction, excited by the scent of food and the sight of new faces.

You smile, stepping back protectively as you bounce Nori against your chest. The little one stirs but doesn’t fuss.

The dog’s paws leave muddy prints across the freshly mopped floor. Of course.

“So, uh…” you start, amused, “are you keeping it?”

“I—damn it, dog, stay still.” Jungkook huffs, struggling as the leash slips through his fingers. He finally scoops the squirming pup into his arms. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ve gotta make sure he’s not lost first.”

Jungkook adjusts the puppy in his arms, eyes flicking to you before quickly darting away.

“I, uh…” He clears his throat. “Would you maybe mind staying a little longer? Just to help me call around about the dog?”

You blink, surprised by the request. He rarely asks you for anything outside of Nori-related tasks.

“Of course,” you say, softening. “Let’s see if anyone’s missing him.”

You settle Nori in her rocker while Jungkook dries the puppy off a little better and grabs his laptop.

The two of you spend the next hour calling local shelters and posting in pack forums and lost pet groups. Nothing. No tags, no chip, no claims.

Jungkook exhales, leaning back on the barstool and glancing down at the dog now sleeping under the island.

“Guess he’s mine now,” he says, half-resigned, half-amused.

You grin. “Better stock up on chew toys and training pads.”

After dinner, where the two of you took turns giving the puppy bites of your food, you both put Nori to bed. She falls asleep easily after her last bottle, her small fingers curling around yours before slipping into slumber.

Then came the bath.

“He smells like a barn,” you say, wrinkling your nose as you fill the tub.

“Because he probably crawled through one,” Jungkook mutters, crouching beside you.

Washing the puppy turns out to be messier than either of you expected. The little guy escaped at least five times, skidding across the tile and shaking his soaked coat all over you. You shriek, laughing through your grimace as cold water splashes your face and clings to your clothes.

“I give up,” Jungkook groans, exasperated but amused, before stepping into the tub fully clothed. “You wash. I’ll hold.”

The sight of him, so serious, crouched in the shallow water while the wriggling puppy sends you into a fit of giggles. Real, uncontrollable giggles that bring tears to your eyes.

“Stop laughing and scrub,” he mutters, failing to sound annoyed.

You do as told, laughing the entire time as you lather shampoo through the puppy’s damp fur. Jungkook holds him still with surprising gentleness, murmuring low words that calm him just enough.

And then, somehow, in all the chaos, your eyes meet his.

He’s smiling.

Not the polite, fleeting ones he offers when he’s tired or trying to be civil. But a real one. Soft and genuine and just slightly crooked.

It catches you off guard, hitting you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the steamy bathroom.

Your heart flutters in a way you know all too well.

Attraction.

It hums quietly beneath your skin, unexpected and undeniable.

You look away first, cheeks warm, your hands still soapy as you focus hard on rinsing the dog.

But something shifted. And you both felt it.

Even if neither of you says a word.

You glance up at Jungkook as he gently wraps the puppy in a towel. “What’s his name?”

He thinks for a second, then shrugs. “Bam.”

You smile. “Bam. It suits him.”

Then you wrinkle your nose and sniff your sleeve. “Ugh, I smell like wet dog.”

Jungkook chuckles, low and genuine. “You can shower if you want. I’ve got extra clothes you can borrow again.”

You glance at the clock, it’s already past ten. When did it get so late?

“I should probably head out,” you say, smiling as you start gathering your things. “And I still need to return the clothes you let me borrow last time.”

He leans against the counter, watching you. “Keep them. They looked better on you anyway.”

You freeze.

So does he.

The air goes still for a beat before Jungkook’s eyes go wide, clearly surprised by his own words. His ears turn red first, then the rest of his face follows in a slow, blooming flush.

“I mean—” he starts, but you laugh softly, sparing him the rescue.

“It’s fine,” you say, smile lingering, heart beating faster than it should. “Thanks.”

Neither of you says much after that. You head toward the door while Bam trots after you, tail wagging like he wants you to stay.

And maybe… a part of you does too.

The following week, you stay home. Jungkook decided to take a few days off to spend with Nori, and honestly, you figured he needed the time. Occasionally, he’d send you photos—Nori napping with one tiny hand gripping Bam’s ear, or Bam sprawled across the living room floor like he paid rent. You’d smile to yourself each time and even made a mental note to pick up some toys for the new pup.

Now it’s Monday, and you’re back at the Jeon household, though something feels… off.

Jungkook has barely said two words to you since you arrived. He’s been pacing the house, muttering to himself and tugging drawers open with more force than necessary. Nori is in your arms, half-asleep from her morning bottle, while Bam circles your ankles, eager for attention.

“Have you seen my field jacket?” Jungkook asks, not quite looking at you.

“No?” you say gently. “Did you check the laundry room?”

“I already did,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair.

You glance down at Nori, then back up at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps—too sharp, too fast. Then, realizing it, he exhales and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Fuck it. I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, just grabs his keys and walks out, the door slamming shut behind him.

You stand there in the silence that follows, Nori blinking up at you sleepily, Bam settling on your foot like he didn’t just witness a small storm roll through the living room.

What the hell just happened?

You and Jungkook had been making such good progress. He was smiling more. Joking, even. Opening up in his own quiet, guarded way. And now… it’s like someone flipped a switch.

You glance down at Nori, who yawns and curls closer to your chest, oblivious to the tension that just walked out the door.

“What’s gotten into your dad?” You murmur, booping her nose, earning a sleepy gummy smile.

You carry on with your day, determined not to let Jungkook’s abrupt mood this morning derail the rest of it.

You keep yourself busy, loading laundry and tidying up the nursery while Nori naps. By the time you’re sorting through the last load, your hands brush something heavy and familiar buried beneath a pile of clothes.

Jungkook’s field jacket.

You pull it out and blink down at it, surprised. It smells faintly of pine, his scent, and something else less distinct, like damp grass. It’s wrinkled and clearly forgotten, stuffed at the very bottom of the basket.

You wash it with care, then tumble it dry on low heat. Once it’s warm and neatly folded, you carry it down the hall to his room along with the rest of his laundry.

You hesitate at his door.

You don’t usually go in there. But your hand moves before your mind can stop it, fingers curling around the knob and pushing it open.

The sight catches you off guard.

Drawers left open. Shirts hanging halfway out. A belt looped over the foot of the bed. Sheets tangled and half-kicked to the floor. Jungkook’s usually tidy space now looks like a storm rolled through.

This isn’t like him.

You linger in the doorway, arms full, torn between stepping in and backing out. You don’t want to overstep, but something in your chest tugs. He looked so frayed this morning. Whatever’s bothering him, he’s clearly overwhelmed.

You sigh, shifting the weight of the clothes in your arms.

A part of you knows you should set the clothes down and walk back out, leave Jungkook to handle his mess. But another part you of is itching to tidy the space up for him.

You fight with yourself on it, before deciding to help. He never said his room was off limits, and you would only be straightening up a little.

You strip the sheets from his bed and toss them into the wash, vacuum the carpet, fold the discarded clothes and stack them neatly on the dresser.

You leave the drawers alone. That feels like a boundary.

But just as you’re about to head out, something catches your eye. An old Polaroid tucked in an open drawer. You pause.

Jungkook stands beside a woman, presumably Nori’s mother, her belly round beneath a fitted dress. He’s stiff. So is she. Their hands don’t touch, their expressions unreadable—muted at best, uncomfortable at worst. It doesn’t look like a happy memory. It looks like a moment captured out of obligation.

You stare for a beat longer than you should.

A sudden wail pierces the quiet and yanks you back into the present. You slip the drawer shut and hurry out of the room, pushing the photo from your mind.

The rest of the day flows by in a rhythm you’ve grown used to. Nori finishes her afternoon bottle and dozes off soon after, while Bam trails you through the house like your little shadow. You take him for a short walk, prep dinner, something simple, like stir-fry, and tidy up the kitchen.

By the time the clock ticks toward five, you’re back in the groove of things. Nori is wiggling on her playmat, Bam is gnawing on a toy in the corner, and the house is warm with the smell of garlic and soy sauce.

The house security sounds as Jungkook’s enters the house, kicking off his shoes. He looks tired, uniform wrinkled at the collar, a deep crease between his brows, but what catches you most is the way he barely looks your way.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and clipped. No nod. No eye contact. Just a quick pass as he walks through the living room and disappears down the hall.

You blink, standing by the stove, confused.

He enters the living room and swoops up Nori before continuing down the hall as you plate up dinner. You move quickly through your routine today, eager to leave this uncomfortable tension.

Just as you’re placing the leftovers in the fridge, Jungkook enters the kitchen, his jaw tight.

“You went into my room.”

It’s not a question.

You stop in your tracks, hand still gripping the fridge door as you turn to him.

“I was just dropping off your laundry,” you say slowly, turning to face him. “And I saw the state of your room, so since you had a lot on your plate I just figured I’d help out.”

His arms are crossed now, the muscles in his jaw working.

“Y/N, you’re not my damn maid. You’re the babysitter. I don’t need you all up in my space. Stop trying to go above and beyond and just… do your job.”

You swallow hard, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. You’d been trying. Really trying. And just when you thought the two of you were finally finding some kind of rhythm… this.

“You’re right,” you say quietly, steadying your voice. “I crossed a boundary going into your room. That was my mistake. It won’t happen again.”

You pause, meeting his eyes even as your own burn.

“From now on, I’ll make sure to only handle what pertains to Nori. Nothing more, nothing less.” You nod once, polite and firm. “I apologize for overstepping my role.”

Then you turn, moving past him before your throat gives out completely.

Jungkook doesn’t try to stop you as you gather your things to leave, which hurts. You don’t know why you care so much. This is your boss, you provide him a service. He has every right to leave critiques.

You gather your things quickly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your emotions in check. And when you finally slip on your shoes and reach for the door, you don’t bother saying goodbye.

You know if you face him again… you might crack.

So you leave. Quiet and fast.

Hoping he doesn’t follow.

Hurt that he doesn’t.

—

Read Part Four Here! Masterpost

A/N: Once again, we’ve reached the end. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I love hearing your thoughts so please feel free to share 😌!! Part 4 is in the works but I’m not sure how soon it will drop so please be patient with me 🙇🏽‍♀️! But I appreciate the support, you guys are amazing 🫶🏽🫶🏽!

Taglist: @canarystwin @smut02 @32saucy-minx

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OPEN ARMS

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Synopsis: After facing a tragic incident that leaves Jungkook a single parent, he quickly realizes that raising a baby alone is more than overwhelming—it’s all-consuming. Stretched thin, he reaches out to a home care agency, and in walks you: a caretaker with a warm touch and a steady heart, eager to help.

Your only goal is to support the little girl you’ve been assigned to, but as you spend time in the Jeon household, you realize that the newborn isn’t the only one in need of nurturing.

Pairing: Non Idol Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5,262

Content: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, A/B/O (no turning), Angst, Single Parent, unrequited x Namjoon, Grieving Jungkook, POC Y/N

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Possible slow uploads, Cursing/Coarse language, Eventual smut, Mentions of death, Emotionally constipated Jungkook

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Hi beautiful people! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ I’m so sorry I kept you all waiting for part 2 but it’s here!! I really wasn’t expecting the fic to attract a lot of attention but I’m grateful for all the love🫶🏽!! This fic is going to be a slow burn but I don’t want to move at snails pace so I’m trying to find a good balance. Things will definitely pick up time wise in the next chapter! But anyways I hope you enjoy!!

PART TWO

Spring was in full session. The park bursting with vibrant colors, and the air heating up just enough to make you break an actual sweat on your morning run.

You check your watch. All three fitness goals filled.

Thank God.

Running wasn’t your favorite, but it kept your head clear. Kept you disciplined. Balanced.

Slowing your pace, you let yourself breathe deep, steadying breaths as your heart rate comes down.

Your gaze drifts across the park, catching on a young father wrangling his soaked daughter as she emerges from the fountain. His face is tight with frustration. Hers? Pure joy. She looks about two seconds away from diving back in.

Welp—

Make that zero.

You laugh softly, endeared by the chaos.

It’s been two weeks since your visit to the Jeon household. Two weeks of silence.

You wish you wouldn’t think about it as much as you do, but you can’t help it. The tension still lingers—quiet, sharp, and unresolved.

You hated to leave knowing there was nothing you could do to ease Jungkook’s stress.

You debated reaching out. A call. An email. Something.

But in the end, you didn’t.

If Jungkook needed your help, he’d call you.

Stretching slightly, you let the tension roll from your shoulders before turning towards your home.

Your shared apartment was only a few blocks away, and you were praying your brother saved a decent amount of hot water. Fingers crossed.

Stepping into your apartment, you’re immediately hit with the musky scent of bergamot.

Namjoon’s here.

His quirky laugh follows, confirming your assumption.

Great, now he has to see you all sweaty.

You do your best to fix your appearance before stepping through the threshold into the living room.

Your brother and Namjoon are slouched on the couch, Simeon laughing while Namjoon wears a sheepish grin.

“What are you two laughing at?” you ask, heading to the kitchen to make a smoothie.

Simeon speaks up quickly. “Namjoon scored himself a date by tripping and knocking over half the apple display at the grocery store.”

“A date?” you echo, trying, and failing, to keep the edge out of your voice as you shut the freezer door.

Simeon doesn’t notice. “Yeah. She helped him pick them up and asked if he always fell this hard for produce.”

Namjoon groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Wasn’t that bad?” Simeon snorts. “We found apples all the way over in the deli section. Man, let me start losing control of my limbs, maybe I’ll land a hot date too.”

He claps Namjoon on the back, still laughing.

You stay quiet, turning back to the blender and hitting the button a little harder than necessary. The loud whir masks the silence in your chest.

Namjoon rises from the couch and strolls into the kitchen, just as you finish pouring your smoothie into a glass.

“Was your run okay?” he asks gently, voice soft, eyes focused, attentive as always.

He’s so annoying.

Always doting on you like you’re still some kid tagging along behind him. Like you haven’t grown. Like you haven’t changed.

Why can’t he see you for the woman you are now?

“Yeah,” you say shortly, not bothering to meet his eyes.

You know you’re being unfair.

It’s not his fault he’s dating. Not his fault he’s living his life.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

“Will you help me find something nice to wear for my date?” Namjoon asks, tone casual. “Simeon says my style’s borderline geriatric, so I figured I’d ask the most stylish person I know for some pointers.”

“Hey!” Simeon shouts from the couch, clearly catching the shade.

Are you fucking serious right now? you think, lips pressing into a thin line. Like hell you want to help him get dressed for someone else.

“Sure,” you reply flatly, turning on your heel and heading straight to your room without another word.

How could he not see it?

The way your voice changes when he smiles at you.

The way your chest tightens every time he brings up another girl like it’s nothing.

You wish you could stop caring. Wish you could be casual about it, too.

But you’re not.

You’re just the one he never quite sees clearly.

It’s deep into the night now, and you can’t sleep.

It’s Saturday, which means no obligations tomorrow. No early alarms, no reason to be awake. But here you are, wide-eyed and restless, hit with a sudden urge to reorganize your room.

So that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.

Soft music plays in the background, a vanilla candle blending with your own cashmere scent. Your mom had sent you some new pillows for your nest, a surprise package with a note that made you teary eyed. You’re finally getting around to setting them up, fluffing and arranging them just right.

Something about nesting always calms you. Makes things feel just a little more in your control.

You hum softly along to the music as you work, feeling at peace in your space. The candle flickers gently beside you, casting golden light across your freshly rearranged room.

As you sweep up the last bit of dust from the floor, your phone vibrates in your pocket.

You glance at the screen, freezing at the caller ID.

Jungkook.

Your brows knit in confusion. It’s past midnight.

What could he possibly need at this hour?

A ripple of anxiety tightens in your chest as you swipe to answer, stomach already twisting with worry.

“Hello? Jungkook?” you ask, heart beginning to race. “Is everything okay?”

Nori’s wails can be heard loud and clear, causing you to wince slightly and draw the phone back from your ear.

“Y/N, Jungkook’s voice cuts through. Strained, desperate. “I’m sorry—I just… I can’t get her to stop crying. Every night it’s the same. She won’t sleep, she won’t settle, and—” His voice cracks. “I don’t know what to do.”

You don’t hesitate.

“Breathe, Jungkook,” you say calmly, already reaching for your shoes. “It’s okay. I’m on my way.”

The call ends soon after. You gave him a few quick remedies, skin-to-skin contact, adjusting her position, swaddling her, hoping they’d soothe Nori until you could get there.

Thankfully, your car’s finally fixed. You grab your keys, toss on a hoodie, and drive the Camry down the quiet streets toward Jungkook’s neighborhood, heart thudding with every turn.

You weren’t in a position to diagnose her, but based on your experience, Nori showed signs of colic—constant evening fussiness and inconsolable crying. It was entirely possible.

Not to mention the stress and grief both she and Jungkook were under. That kind of emotional weight had a way of settling into a household, and infants felt it more than most realized.

You just hoped you can be of service to them both, bringing some peace to their situation.

As soon as you pull into Jungkook’s driveway, you park without thinking, crooked, tires still angled, before jumping out and hurrying to the front door.

You press the doorbell, heart pounding, hoping you’re not too late to help.

The door swings open almost instantly, like he was already standing there.

Jungkook looks exhausted. Hair disheveled, dark circles beneath his eyes, shirt rumpled. Nori’s cries pierce through the quiet night from somewhere inside.

“She hasn’t stopped,” he says voice hoarse.

He steps back to let you in. You kick off your shoes without a second thought, rushing to the kitchen to wash your hands before making a beeline to Nori’s room.

The cries grow louder as you enter, frantic and high-pitched, the kind that signal pure exhaustion. Her tiny limbs flail wildly.

You approach slowly, soft soothing sounds already leaving your lips as you release gentle pheromones to announce your presence. Carefully, you lift her into your arms, folding her little arms across her chest as you begin to sway.

You hum low and steady, your chin resting near her temple. Bit by bit, her sobs begin to fade, her body melting against yours like she’s been waiting for this moment of comfort all day.

From behind, you feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. Watching. Intently. But silent.

The three of you stay like this for at least ten more minutes, nothing but the soft sound of your humming filling up the space.

A puff of air escapes Jungkook, somewhere between disbelief and relief.

“How… how did you get her to stop crying so fast?” he asks, voice low, defeat hanging heavy in every word.

This version of Jungkook is nothing like the cold, closed-off man you met two weeks ago. This one is worn down, frayed at the edges, shadows under his eyes, armor stripped away.

And somehow, that only makes your heart ache more.

“Her crying,” you explain gently, “was high-pitched, almost panicked. And her limbs were flailing, that usually means she’s overstimulated and exhausted.”

Jungkook stares at you for a long moment. “I didn’t even notice the difference. How did I miss that?” he mutters, dragging a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

“Jungkook,” you say softly, “don’t be so hard on yourself. Learning these signs take time. I didn’t figure it out in two months either, I promise.”

He exhales sharply, the frustration still lingering. “But you make it look so easy.”

His statement is not just about tonight—and you both know it.

You shift Nori in your arms, ensuring she’s comfortable.

“If it’s okay, Jungkook,” you say, glancing up at him, “may I sit in the rocking chair?”

He nods, silently.

Easing down, you cradle Nori closer, resting her head over your heart, just like your parents used to do with you. You rub slow, comforting circles along her back, quietly marveling at how peaceful she looks now.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, lifting your gaze, “I think you should get some real sleep. In your bed. I know it’s hard, I know it’s scary, but I’ll stay with her all night. You can keep the baby monitor with you for a peace of mind.”

He shakes his head instantly. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. Nori’s my responsibility.”

You soften. “But you didn’t ask me,” you say gently. “I offered.”

He lets out a tired, humorless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I appreciate it, really… but I should be the one up with her. I need to be the one.”

His voice cracks just slightly, enough to betray how close to the edge he really is.

You stay quiet for a moment, just swaying gently with Nori as you rock. The room is dim and quiet now, the soft creak of the chair the only sound.

“I know you feel like you have to do it all,” you say softly. “And I admire that. But even Alphas need rest, Jungkook. She needs you—whole, rested, and okay. Not running on fumes.”

He exhales slowly, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he leans against the doorway. For a moment, he says nothing. Just watches you and his daughter.

Then, quietly, “You’ll wake me if she needs anything?”

You nod. “Of course.”

He finally nods back, defeated but grateful. “Okay.”

And without another word, he turns toward his bedroom.

The night passed without incident. Nori slept soundly on your chest, only waking once to be fed—a moment that passed without fuss.

Morning came and went as well. You spent the quiet hours tending to Nori and straightening up the house while Jungkook slept in. He needed the rest, and you were glad to give him the space to take it.

Now, with Nori swaddled in the soft carrier snug against your chest, you ruffle through the fridge, searching for anything you can turn into a halfway decent lunch.

A container of leftover rice catches your eye, along with a few eggs, a softening carrot, and some green onions clinging to life in the crisper drawer.

It’s not much, but it’ll work.

You begin prepping lunch one-handed. The other rests gently on Nori’s back, offering comfort and rhythm with each movement. The familiar scent of sesame oil and garlic fills the kitchen as you stir the rice, soft sizzles echoing in the quiet.

You’re just about finished when Jungkook appears in the doorway. His hair is tousled, eyes still heavy with sleep, and his chest bare beneath a pair of low-hanging sweatpants.

For the first time, you catch a full view of the intricate sleeve of tattoos decorating his right arm. Ink that coils from shoulder to wrist in sharp lines and shadows.

Something warm blooms in your chest, slow and unwelcome.

You chalk it up to the extra body heat pressed against you.

You offer a small smile, keeping your voice gentle so as not to wake Nori.

“Good afternoon,” you say. “Hope you don’t mind me cooking, I figured you’d be hungry.”

Jungkook blinks slowly, like he’s still registering your presence. His gaze drops briefly to the baby carrier, then back to you.

He doesn’t speak right away, just takes in the sight, the quiet kitchen, the smell of food, the peaceful rise and fall of his daughter’s breath against your chest.

When he finally answers, his voice is rough with sleep.

“I… yeah. I am. Thanks.” He steps forward.

You pause, mid-stir, watching as he approaches. He moves carefully, reaching out with both arms. “Here,” he murmurs, voice still hoarse. “Let me take her.”

You glance down at Nori, still sleeping soundly, then back at him. Slowly, you loosen the carrier straps and gently pass her over, his hands already steady and sure as he receives her.

“She’s been good all morning,” you whisper. “Only woke up once during the night.”

You turn back to the stove and finish plating the food, scooping a generous portion of the fried rice onto a plate for him. The rest you pack neatly into a container.

When you hand him the plate, he furrows his brows, surprised. “You’re not going to eat?”

You shake your head gently, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

“No, I’m okay. I had a banana earlier that I found in my bag,” you say with a small, awkward smile. You hoped that Banana did come back to haunt you later. It a little was beyond ripe.

He nods slowly as he digs in.

You clean up your mess as he eats, trying to figure out where you go from here. Do you leave after this? Do you talk about last time?

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook calls out, disrupting you from your inner turmoil. The words catch you off guard and for a second you thought you imagined them.

“Huh?” You say, pivoting.

He adjusts Nori before looking up at you. “I’m sorry for how I dismissed you the last time you were here. It was rude of me after reaching out for help. I just-“

You stay silent, encouraging him to continue.

“I just felt useless. Watching you attend to Nori and clean my entire home so easily when I’ve been struggling to do so for weeks,” his voice is hard, brows furrowed as he looks down, almost ashamed to say it aloud.

You let the silence stretch for a second, just long enough to let his words settle between you.

“I don’t do it because it’s easy, Jungkook,” you say softly, leaning against the counter. “I do it because I’ve been where you are. And I know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning.”

He looks up, eyes tired and earnest.

“You’re not useless. You’re grieving. Yet you’re still trying. That’s not weakness—that’s love,” you finish gently, voice thick with meaning.

Jungkook swallows hard, his gaze lingering on yours longer this time.

“Thank you,” he says again, quieter now. “For not giving up on us. For staying the night.”

“Of course, Jungkook. I was hired to assist you the best way that I can and I am going to do my best to see it through. However that may look.”

You give him a warm smile, which he doesn’t return, but you don’t let that deter you. Your foot was in the door.

“Right,” he clears his throat. “Then if you’re comfortable maybe we can workout a schedule?”

You nod encouragingly and he continues.

“I still have my paternal leave for another five weeks, but I can’t keep us afloat for that long. I need to get back to work. My patrol hours are usually from nine to six, so I’d need coverage during that time.”

You nod, folding your arms loosely as you listen. “That’s doable. Those hours pretty much mirror my shifts at the nursery.”

“I’d… pay you, of course,” he adds quickly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for originally. And I’m not asking you to stay overnight or anything—just… during the day. Maybe three to four times a week?”

You hesitate, not because you’re unwilling, but because you want to be sure you understand exactly what he needs. “So, just daytime care for now? I can prep meals and tidy up a little if you want. And I could help with her sleep training if you’re open to that.”

Jungkook’s jaw flexes at the mention of sleep training. “I… yeah. I’d take the help. Nights have been brutal.”

You offer a gentler smile this time. “Then let’s make it work. I can come by tomorrow around 8:30? We can do a trial run while you’re still out on leave and work out some of the kinks?”

Jungkook nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.”

There’s a flicker of relief in his eyes, barely there but real, and it makes your chest warm.

“Okay,” you say with a small smile. “It sounds like a plan.”

He only hums in response, adjusting Nori gently in his arms, but you don’t miss the way his shoulders lower, just slightly.

You gather your bag, give a small wave, and promise, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you,” he murmurs, eyes on Nori. But just before you turn away, his voice cuts through again—quiet, but certain.

“…And thank you.”

“You didn’t have to drive me, you know. My car’s fixed,” you say, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze as you fiddle with the strap of your purse.

“I couldn’t let you haul all those baby books and nappies by yourself. Besides, your little rinky-dink car isn’t the most reliable,” he says, trailing off with a slight grin.

“Don’t call it that!” you snap, more sharply than intended. “Yeah, it’s a little beat up, but it runs just fine. I just needed an oil change and a new battery.”

Your voice softens by the end, but the defensiveness is still there. That car might not be fancy like Namjoon’s, but it was a gift from your father. One of the last pieces of him you had left. And that made it priceless.

An awkward beat stretches between you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your date anyway?” you ask, trying for casual despite the tight pull of curiosity in your chest. Part of you hoped he’d say it was canceled.

“Prepare? I mean, there’s not really much to prepare for it’s not a test. We’re just going to dinner and a movie.”

You roll your eyes, the bitterness bubbling up before you can stop it. “Wow. How romantic.”

He glances at you. “Y/N what is your problem. Every time we mention my date you get all…weird.”

“I do not,” you snap, a little too fast. “There’s nothing to be weird about. It’s just, dinner and a movie? That’s so cliché. I’m surprised she’s still intrigued.”

The second it leaves your mouth, you regret it. Your words hang sharp in the air, and you catch the shift in his expression—furrowed brows, mouth slightly parted in quiet contemplation.

Thankfully, salvation arrives in the form of Jungkook’s driveway.

Namjoon pulls in, and before the wheels have fully stopped, you’re unbuckling your seatbelt and slipping out the door.

You beeline for the back seat, grabbing the first box you see and hefting it out with a breathless wheeze.

“Let me help,” Namjoon calls, already stepping out of the driver’s seat.

“I got it,” you toss back, walking backward with the box clutched tightly in your arms. Right into something solid.

Or… someone.

A firm chest halts your stumble, and strong arms reach out to steady you.

Your eyes lift in surprise, immediately catching the ink that decorates the knuckles curled gently around your elbows.

Jungkook.

You spin around, startled, your breath caught somewhere between your throat and chest. His hair is damp, fresh from a shower, maybe, and his eyes are sharp, but not unkind. Just observant.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low and gravelly from just waking or not having spoken much yet.

You nod quickly, still recovering from the collision. He glances at the box in your hands, then back at you.

“What’s all this?”

“Oh—uh, the nursery sent you a care package,” you say, shifting the box slightly in your arms. “Just some supplies to help out with Nori. There’s a few things in there for you too. Parenting books, that kind of stuff.”

You notice the way his brow twitches, just slightly. He’s hesitating, about to question it.

“It’s standard,” you add quickly, keeping your tone casual. “All of these are things she would’ve had access to at the nursery. Nothing extra.”

You offer a smile, hoping he doesn’t look too closely at the cracks in it. The truth gnaws at you. When you were cleaning yesterday, you noticed he was running low on a few things. Diapers, formula, even some basics like wipes. So you went out of your way to restock.

But you knew he wouldn’t accept it if he thought it came from you, so this lie felt safer.

Behind you, Namjoon sets down the last box with a quiet grunt. The sound pulls Jungkook’s attention.

“Sorry,” you say, turning slightly. “This is Namjoon. He’s… a friend. Just gave me a ride over.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicks to Namjoon, unreadable.

“Hey,” Namjoon offers, casual but polite as he wipes his hands on his jeans. He doesn’t extend his hand, and neither does Jungkook. Just a quick, mutual nod.

Jungkook looks back at you, still standing there with the box in your arms. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” he says, tone flat.

You shift under his stare, plastering on a cheerful smile. “It wasn’t any trouble. I figured you could use the extra stuff. That formula goes quick.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away. His jaw flexes slightly, the only visible sign of the pride you know is bubbling underneath his calm surface. Eventually, he nods again and steps aside. “You can put it on the counter.”

Namjoon sets down the last box near the kitchen island and steps back. “Well, I should head out,” he says, glancing toward you with a quiet kind of softness. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say quickly, avoiding his eyes. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

Jungkook stands just behind you, arms crossed over his chest as he watches the brief exchange. There’s a quiet tension lingering between the two Alphas—nothing overtly hostile, but it hums beneath the surface, noticeable enough to make your skin prickle.

You pretend not to notice, shifting your weight awkwardly.

“Nice meeting you,” Namjoon offers with a polite nod before slipping out the door.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your shoulders finally relaxing as the door clicks shut behind him.

You begin unpacking the boxes as Jungkook silently comes up beside you, his eyes scanning labels like he’s double-checking for anything unnecessary. You watch him quietly, wondering if he sees through your little lie.

But he doesn’t say anything. Just silently helps you unpack.

“How’d she do last night?” you ask, glancing at him as you pull out a container of baby wipes.

“She slept longer than usual,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that swaddling trick you showed me actually worked.”

You smile. “That’s good to hear Jungkook.”

“She didn’t fuss much after her last bottle either,” he adds, tone almost surprised. “I guess the slow-flow nipple helped.”

“Yay,” you say, beaming. “I’m glad my tips came in handy.”

You walk over to the dishwasher and begin loading in the new bottles, humming softly under your breath. When you glance up again, Jungkook is watching you, his gaze fixed and unreadable.

Your smile falters slightly. “Is everything okay?”

He looks away quickly, returning his attention to the box in front of him as he exhales. “Yeah, Y/N. I’m good.”

You give a small nod and wipe your hands on a dish towel before changing the subject. “So, I figured while Nori’s still sleeping, we could go over her feeding chart and maybe try to set up a napping schedule. Nothing rigid, just something that might help her get into a groove.”

Jungkook nods slowly. “Okay. That makes sense.”

“And then,” you continue, walking back over to the boxes, “I can show you some tummy time tips. It’ll help with her neck and shoulder strength. You don’t have to do it long, just a few minutes here and there.”

He raises an eyebrow. “She’s not gonna scream the whole time?”

“She might protest a little,” you admit with a grin, “but we’ll make it fun. I brought some mirrors and textured cards she can look at.”

Jungkook watches you for a beat. “You really came prepared.”

“I try,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear. “This is kind of my thing.”

The two of you finish unloading the last of the supplies and manage to map out a flexible feeding and nap schedule before Nori starts stirring for her next bottle.

Tummy time goes surprisingly well. Jungkook was understandably nervous, his hands hovered like he thought she might break, but Nori didn’t seem to mind. She cooed a little, wiggling here and there before melting down into Jungkook’s chest for a post-session snuggle.

It took some convincing, but Jungkook eventually caved and let you cook lunch. He’d stocked the fridge earlier in the week, so you had plenty to work with. You opted for a chicken pasta dish, something easy, comforting, and sure to leave him with leftovers for the next day or two.

While he disappeared into another room for a bit of quiet, Nori rested peacefully in her rocker in the living room. Thanks to the open floor plan, you could keep an eye on her while you moved around the kitchen.

You were just about done plating lunch when you heard soft footsteps behind you.

Jungkook wandered back into the kitchen and took a seat at one of the barstools at the island, his eyes scanning the food hungrily.

“Enjoy!” You say sliding him a bowl. Nori wines and the two of you glance over, Jungkook ready to jump out his seat before you stop him.

“Eat. Let me,” you say, walking the distance to lift her out of her rocker. You coddle her gently and head back to the kitchen, Jungkook’s arms outstretched to take her.

“You don’t have to do everything,” he says, brows lifting slightly. “I can multitask.”

You laugh, “Jungkook what’s the point of me being here if you don’t let me do my job. Eat she’s ok, I promise.”

He huffs as he digs in, eyes brows furrowed as he chews. You saddle in the seat beside him, holding Nori with your left arm as you dig in with your right.

“Is it good?” you ask after a few minutes, earning a curt nod in response. You smile to yourself, happy. You loved to cook.

Jungkook helps himself to a second plate before tackling the dishes, you decided to let him have it.

You raise Nori in your arms as you stand, in route to the living room before you smell it, the potent scent of poop.

“Someone needs a diaper change. I’ll be right back.”

The diaper was worse than expected—a full-blown blowout that had you both scrambling like two contestants on a messy game show.

“Bath it is,” you muttered through a laugh, trying not to breathe through your nose as you carried Nori toward the bathroom.

Jungkook’s let you take the lead, which surprised you until he revealed that he had never bathed her in the sink as he was scared to do it alone. You rolled up your sleeves, and walked him through it.

Once she was clean, warm, and dry, you wrapped her in a hooded towel shaped like a bunny and carried her back to the nursery. Nori barely made a sound. All that effort had drained her, and after a few minutes of soft rocking, she was fast asleep.

Now the house was quiet, the afternoon sun filtering in through gauzy curtains. You and Jungkook had made your way to the living room, both of you settling on the couch.

“I called the nursery… to thank them for the gifts,” Jungkook says, glancing at you.

You freeze for a second. The words take a moment to land.

You turn toward him slowly, trying, failing, to keep your face neutral. “Oh?”

“Joyce told me they hadn’t sent me a care package. Not yet, at least.”

Shit.

You hadn’t expected him to call. At least not before you had time to cover your tracks. You swallow hard, heart thudding against your ribs.

“Why did you lie, Y/N?”

His voice is low—measured, but thick with something heavier. Not anger, not quite.

You blink down at your hands, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the couch cushion. It seems silly now.

“I don’t know, honestly,” you admit, your voice quiet. “I just thought… if you knew I bought the supplies, you’d refuse them. But if it looked like they came from somewhere official, maybe you’d be more willing.”

His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t interrupt.

”I should’ve just told you the truth,” you say after a beat. “I didn’t mean to cross a line. I just didn’t want you to feel insulted or like I didn’t think you could handle things. I just… wanted to make it a little easier for you.”

There’s a long pause. He’s quiet, too quiet. And then finally.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, voice softer now, his gaze trained ahead. “You didn’t have to trick me into accepting your help. I’m not… helpless.”

You shift slightly to face him.

“I wasn’t trying to trick you, Jungkook,” you say gently. “That wasn’t my intention. I just… I didn’t want to make you feel like you weren’t doing a good job, because I know you are. I see it.”

His brows knit, but he doesn’t respond right away. So you continue, voice a little quieter.

“I’m sorry. For not being upfront. I really am. And the next time I see things Nori might need, I’ll consult your first. You have my word.”

That finally gets his attention. His eyes meet yours, guarded but softening, something flickering behind them—reluctant understanding, maybe even gratitude.

“I’m just used to doing everything on my own,” he murmurs. “It’s hard to know when to let go… or how.”

“I get that,” you nod. “But you don’t have to carry everything by yourself. Not with me.”

He studies you for a long beat, then exhales through his nose. Less of a sigh, more of a release.

“Okay,” he says, voice quiet. “Okay.”

The house remains quiet, sunlight stretching across the floor, warm and unhurried. Just like the space now settling between the two of you.

——

Read Part Three Here! Masterpost

A/N: We’ve reached the end of part two!! I hope you guys enjoyed it and that it was worth the wait! I’ll try not to make you wait as long for part three but I can’t guarantee anything because like I mentioned, I’m often busy with work and preparing to head back to Uni. But now that Somebody is finished I can devote more time solely to Open Arms!! Always feel free to share your thoughts!! I love hearing what you guys think 🫶🏽🫶🏽 Also sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes I got sleepy.

Taglist: @canarystwin @smut02

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OPEN ARMS

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Synopsis: After facing a tragic incident that leaves Jungkook a single parent, he quickly realizes that raising a baby alone is more than overwhelming—it’s all-consuming. Stretched thin, he reaches out to a home care agency, and in walks you: a caretaker with a warm touch and a steady heart, eager to help.

Your only goal is to support the little girl you’ve been assigned to, but as you spend time in the Jeon household, you realize that the newborn isn’t the only one in need of nurturing.

Pairing: Non Idol Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4,927

Content: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers,A/B/O (no turning), Angst, Single Parent, Grieving, POC Y/N

Warnings: MDNI, Possible slow uploads, Cursing/Coarse language, Eventual smut, Mentions of death, Emotionally constipated Jungkook

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Hi beautiful people! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ Surprise, maybe?!?! I know some of guys were probably expecting the last part of SOMEBODY, but like I mentioned I have a hard time writing endings 🫩! So in the meantime here you go!! This fic is definitely going to be multiple parts, I don’t exactly know how long yet, I’ve decided to just go with the flow. But yea, tell me what you think and I’m excited to share it with you all🫶🏽

PART ONE

Wails cut through the quiet. Sharp and unrelenting. It’s hard to believe a body so small could hold so much sound.

You’d think her vocal cords would have given out by now, but no. Her cries have echoed through the house for over an hour, looping endlessly, each one more desperate than the last.

Jungkook cradles his daughter in his arms, gently rocking her in a rhythm that’s grown frantic with fatigue. He’s tried everything. Her bottle, her pacifier, soft lullabies, even a midnight drive but nothing quiets her cries.

It’s the third night this week Jungkook has been pulled from sleep to tend to his daughter’s distress, and his patience is beginning to wear thin.

His frustration doesn’t lie with his daughter, but with himself.

With the helplessness that comes from his inability to quickly attend to her needs. He never imagined he’d have to raise a newborn baby alone.

A sudden wave of grief crashes through him, tightening his chest just as her cries rise again. Sharper, louder. Her tiny face reddens as she gasps for breath, her sobs coming in broken, desperate bursts.

“It’s alright, Nori. Appa’s got you. I’m right here, everything’s going to be okay,” he whispers, the words meant as much for himself as for her.

He shifts her gently, nestling her against the curve of his neck, doing his best to release soothing pheromones, praying they’ll bring her some relief.

And it seems God has answered his prayer because shorty after Nori’s cries begin to subside. Jungkook continues to rock his baby to sleep, his heartbeat her nursery rhyme as they sway back in forth in the chair.

Not long after, sleep finds Jungkook, and the two drift off together, his last thought settling heavy in his mind. He can no longer do this alone.

Mornings were hectic, as you often had to deal with teary-eyed toddlers who hated to see their parents leave.

Today was no different.

Jiah, Seokjin’s daughter, was mid-meltdown, wailing as she clung to her father with the strength of a toddler on a mission. Her tiny fists had a death grip on his shirt, and neither You nor Seokjin could get her to let go.

“Jiah, Appa really has to go now or he’s going to be late for work,” Seokjin said gently, trying to pry her off. “Appa has to go help catch the yummy salmon we like to eat, huh?”

You laugh slightly, endeared by the father-daughter duo.

Knowing that little Jiah is food motivated, you crouche down, pulling the toddler’s favorite crackers out of your pocket.

“Hey, Jiah,” you say softly. “I know it’s hard to say goodbye, but your Appa will be back later to pick you up. And if you let him go, I just might be able to sneak you one of your favorite snacks.”

You dangle the package just within view, letting the crinkle of the wrapper do the rest.

Suddenly, the toddler’s tears cease, and she eagerly turns to you, ready for her snack.

Seokjin’s mouths a silent thank-you as he backs toward the door, slipping out before Jiah changes her mind.

As You hand over the crackers, your heart swells, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest at the small victory.

The rest of the morning passed without incident and you spend most of your time tending to the children. By a little after one, most of the toddlers were deep into their naps, the room quiet and still.

Sitting in a rocking chair, you gently cradling a newborn as he nurses from a bottle. It was quiet moments like this when the ache settled in—soft but steady. Your Omega side stirred, preening at the thought of holding a child of your own.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by a soft knock on the doorframe. Glancing up, Joyce, one of the pack elders who helps run the nursery, stands by the door frame, gesturing for you to come over.

After gently passing the newborn to a nearby colleague, you rise from the chair, following her into the office.

“Come on in,” Joyce says as you step inside. “And close the door behind you, will you?”

The request catches you slightly off guard. Your pulse speeding up as anxiety creeps in. Had you done something wrong?

“Don’t look so skittish, child. You’re not in trouble,” Joyce adds with a small smile, pulling a file out of her cabinet. “Have a seat, and I’ll explain what this is all about.”

You sit without further question, eager to know what it is your boss has to say.

“I got a call early this morning from a parent. A new father. Widowed, and having a hard time adjusting. He sounded desperate, maybe even a little embarrassed to reach out.”

A small wave of relief washes over You. You’re not in trouble.

Sitting up a little straighter you reply, “Well, that’s what the nursery’s for,” your tone steady. “To help the Pack when needed. Should I go ahead and start the onboarding process?”

“Well, here’s the thing. While speaking with the Alpha over the phone, he expressed his desire to have in-home care instead.”

You nod along in understanding, “Ah, well that shouldn’t be a problem right, we have plenty of caregivers available to assist,” you reassure.

Joyce chuckles slightly. “That we do, and I was actually hoping the caregiver across from me would be willing to assist.”

Your eyebrows lift. “Me?”

She nods, folding her hands over the file in front of her. “You’ve always had a calm touch. The way you handled Jiah this morning? That’s exactly what this family needs. What he needs.”

There’s a beat of silence as you absorb her words.

“I… I mean, I’d be honored,” you say carefully. “But are you sure? There are plenty of others with more experience in in-home care.”

Joyce gives you a knowing look. “There are plenty of caregivers, but not all of them carry the kind of presence you do. And this case isn’t just about experience—it’s about connection. This Alpha just lost his mate. The baby’s still young. He’s raw. Grieving. Barely sleeping.”

You swallow, your Omega instincts already responding to the quiet urgency behind her words.

“What’s his name?” you ask softly.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she replies, sliding a folder toward you. “Lives just outside the main pack perimeter. He’s been trying to do it all on his own, and I think it’s breaking him down faster than he’s willing to admit.”

You place a gentle hand on the file but don’t open it right away. “And he agreed to someone coming in?”

Joyce nods, though her expression dims a bit. “Reluctantly. He didn’t want to ask for help, but I think he knew if he didn’t, something would give—and it wouldn’t be pretty.”

You finally open the folder, eyes scanning the brief intake notes. The baby’s name jumps out at you first. Nori. A soft name. Pretty. Your heart clenches.

Joyce watches you, patient and quiet.

“When would he need me to start?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Tomorrow morning,” she says gently. “Just a few hours to start. Ease him into it. He’s wary, and I don’t blame him.”

You nod slowly, the weight of the moment settling over your shoulders. “Okay.”

Joyce exhales like she’d been holding her breath. “I knew I could count on you.”

You smile faintly, nerves fluttering just beneath your skin. “I hope he’ll feel the same.”

Tomorrow morning comes quickly, and you find yourself in the car, on your way to Jungkook’s house. A manila folder rests in your lap, the contents practically imprinted on your brain.

You could do this.

It wasn’t that different from the nursery.

Just a little more intimate.

“If you stare at that file any longer, I’m pretty sure you’ll start seeing the words when you blink,” Namjoon teases from the driver’s seat.

You glance up, startled from your thoughts. “I’m just trying to make sure I’m well-prepared.”

Namjoon hums, offering you one of those quiet, effortless dimpled-smiles that always gets you. “Y/N, you’re the most plan-A person I know. You’ve probably already thought through every possible outcome, including a fire drill.”

You laugh softly, closing the file with a sigh. He wasn’t wrong.

Your car’s still in the shop, so Namjoon offered to drive you this morning. You were grateful, maybe a little too grateful.

The silence that settles between you is familiar. Not awkward, just… heavy with things unsaid.

You’ve known Namjoon since primary school. He’s your older brother’s best friend. Always has been. Always will be.

He’s the one who used to share his snacks with you when your lunch money mysteriously disappeared. The one who helped you with your school projects so you wouldn’t flunk a class. The one who never missed your dance recitals, even when your own brother forgot.

And, unfortunately, he’s also the one you’ve been quietly in love with since you were fifteen.

He knows, of course. You told him once, drunk and swaying on the edge of heartbreak, years ago now.

He never brought it up after that. Never pulled away either. He just… kept showing up. Kind. Thoughtful. Utterly unattainable.

You glance over at him now, fingers tightening around the file.

“I appreciate this, Joon,” you murmur. “Really.”

He glances at you briefly before turning back to the road. “Anytime.”

And he means it.

That’s the problem.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as the car turns onto a quiet residential street, the tires crunching softly over gravel before coming to a stop in front of a modest family home.

It’s simple but neat. Dark shutters, white trim, and a small porch with a wooden bench pushed slightly off-center. A baby rattle lies abandoned in the grass beside the walkway, its bright colors dulled by morning dew.

You grip the strap of your tote bag a little tighter.

Namjoon shifts in the driver’s seat, glancing toward the house. “Looks cozy.”

You nod, though your stomach twists with nerves. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, just drums his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. The silence hangs, comfortable but heavy, like a weighted blanket you’re not sure you asked for.

You reach for the door handle, but pause when you feel his gaze on you again.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks gently. “I can wait out here as long as you need. If it’s weird or—”

“I’ll be okay,” you say, turning to him with a soft smile. “Thanks again for driving me.”

His dimple appears again with the smallest smile. “Of course.”

You step out of the car, smoothing your palms down your pants as you adjust your tote. The morning air is crisp, not cold, but it does something to your breathing. Makes it feel shallower.

You glance over your shoulder.

Namjoon is still watching. Not hovering, just there. Like he always is.

You give him a small wave before turning toward the house and walking up the path. With each step, your heart beats a little faster.

The home security alerts your presence before you even lift your hand to knock, a quiet chime sounding from somewhere inside the house. You pause, glancing up at the small camera mounted above the doorbell.

It blinks.

You blink back.

Then, unable to help yourself, you smile awkwardly into the lens, giving a sheepish little wave.

A few seconds pass in silence before a soft click sounds, followed by the quiet crackle of the intercom.

“Hello?”

The voice that follows is deep, husky, and just a little rough, like it hasn’t been used much this morning. It catches you off guard, something about it tugging at the center of your chest in a way you weren’t quite prepared for.

You clear your throat gently. “Hi. Um… this is Y/N. From the nursery? Joyce sent me to help with Nori.”

Another pause.

Then the door creaks open, only a few inches at first, and you catch a glimpse of him.

Jeon Jungkook.

He stands barefoot in the doorway, clad in gray sweatpants and a loose black long sleeve that clings slightly at the collar from the weight of the baby nestled against his chest.

Nori.

She’s tiny, swaddled in soft pink, her small face barely visible beneath the folds of the blanket. Her breathing is steady. Peaceful.

Your breath catches just a little. Instinct kicks in, full and immediate, blooming through you.

Jungkook eyes you carefully, dark lashes low over bloodshot eyes. His features are unreadable—not cold, but not quite warm either. Like he’s still trying to decide whether to let you in.

“I thought you were coming at nine,” he says, voice lower than before, almost cautious.

You glance at your watch. “It is nine.”

He looks mildly surprised, then sighs through his nose. “Right. Sorry.”

You shift your weight, fingers tightening around the strap of your tote bag. “I don’t want to intrude if now’s a bad time. I can wait outside or come back later if you need—”

“No,” he says, cutting you off gently. “You’re here. Might as well come in.”

He steps back, opening the door wider.

You enter slowly, careful not to make too much noise, as you remove your shoes.

Your gaze flickering over the living room as you take it in. Baby toys tucked in corners, a burp cloth draped over the back of the couch, a faint scent of formula in the air.

“You have a beautiful home, Jungkook,” you say, offering a soft smile as your eyes return to him.

He doesn’t smile back. Just stares at you for a second too long, like he’s trying to decide whether or not you’re being sincere.

Then he nods, barely, and turns, walking off deeper into the house.

You hesitate, standing awkwardly just past the doorway, unsure if you’re supposed to follow or give him space. Your hand shifts nervously at your side.

Is this the part where you take initiative? Or would that cross some unspoken line?

Just as you take a small step backward, debating whether to text Joyce for clarity, you hear his voice call out, low, but firm.

“You coming?”

It’s not exactly an invitation. But it’s not a dismissal either.

Relieved, you follow him down the hallway, your steps quiet against the hardwood floor. The house is dim, curtains drawn in most rooms, like he’s been trying to block out the world one window at a time.

He leads you into what must be the nursery. The furniture is minimal. A crib, a rocking chair, a dresser. All functional. Moody natural tones fill up the space. Jungkook’s must gravitate towards the darker colors, you think to yourself.

Jungkook gently lowers Nori into the crib, moving with a care so tender it startles you. He adjusts her blanket, brushes a thumb against her cheek, and stands there for a moment. Just watching her breathe.

You don’t speak.

He doesn’t either.

When he finally turns back toward you, there’s something wary in his gaze. Not hostile, just… cautious.

“She didn’t sleep at all last night,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.“Every time I put her down, she’d start screaming again.”

You nod slowly, voice gentle. “That’s normal at her age. Especially when they’re dealing with grief too.”

His jaw clenches at that, like you hit a nerve without meaning to.

You soften your tone even more. “I meant both of you.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away. Just crosses his arms loosely over his chest.

“So… what do you need from me today?” you ask carefully, watching his posture, trying not to step on the wrong nerve.

He exhales slowly. “Honestly? I don’t even know.”

You pause, giving him space before gently offering, “Well… I’d be happy to help you tidy up a bit. If you showed me where things are, I could—”

“No offense,” he cuts in, his voice flat, “but I didn’t hire a maid.”

You nod slowly, choosing not to react to the bite in his tone. “Right. Of course. But as a caretaker, part of what I do is tend to the environment too. And I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.” You try to offer him a friendly smile.

His jaw flexes, but he says nothing, just watches you for a long beat.

You try again, carefully. “I understand that letting someone into your space can be nerve-wrack—”

“I don’t need you to understand,” he cuts in again, this time sharper.

That silences you. Not from fear, but because you get it. He doesn’t want sympathy. Not now. Maybe not ever.

A thick pause stretches between you.

Then, finally, he sighs, the fight seeming to drain from his shoulders.

“If you want to clean, clean. I’ll show you where I keep stuff.”

He turns and walks off without another word.

You follow, staying a few paces behind.

The tour is short and clipped.

“That’s the laundry room. Detergent’s on the shelf. Vacuum’s in the hallway closet. Bottles are in the sink.”

He doesn’t look back to see if you’re keeping up. Just talks and moves and points, like muscle memory is the only thing keeping him upright.

Despite his coldness, you listen. Carefully. Committing it all to memory.

The house is larger than expected but spread out across one floor, thankfully simple to navigate. Still, there’s a quiet weight to the air, like the walls themselves are grieving.

He stops at the edge of the kitchen and finally looks back at you.

“Anything else?” he asks, arms folded across his chest.

You shake your head gently. “No, thank you. I’ve got it from here.”

He nods once, stiff and unreadable, before walking off again, no goodbye, no lingering glance.

You stand there for a moment, alone in the kitchen, and finally take a breath.

Then you set your tote down, roll up your sleeves, and get to work.

You take your time in the kitchen, working methodically. From countertops, to dishes, to the sticky patch of formula on the floor by the trash can. It’s not glamorous, but the order settles something in your chest.

Once the space is pristine, you move on to the foyer, collecting the mess of shoes scattered across the walkway.

By the time you make it to the living room, you stop short.

Jungkook is completely knocked out, slumped in the recliner, his head tilted back, mouth parted slightly as soft breaths escape. His arms are limp at his sides, chest rising and falling in slow, heavy rhythms.

The baby monitor glows quietly on the coffee table, its screen mirroring Nori’s room.

You tiptoe around him carefully, heart softening at the sight. He looks younger in his sleep, less guarded, less worn. You wonder how long it’s been since he truly rested.

A glance toward the hallway confirms what you already knew: he probably wouldn’t have heard Nori even if she had cried.

You make your way to the nursery, moving in sock-clad feet.

Inside, the room is bathed in soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Nori stirs gently in her crib, a soft whimper escaping her lips, not quite a cry, but the kind of sound that promises one if no one answers.

You move toward her, lowering your voice to a soft coo. “Hello, Nori,” you whisper, releasing the faintest wave of calming pheromones into the space.

She blinks up at you, her tiny face still puffy from sleep, lips puckered as if deciding whether or not to fuss.

You lean over the crib, letting her see your face clearly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Her fingers twitch beneath the blanket, grasping the air in slow, aimless movements.

You gently lift her from the crib, cradling her in the crook of your arm. She’s warm and impossibly small, a perfect little weight against your chest.

Her breathing evens out as she nestles into your scent, soft and trusting.

Thinking back to the feeding chart you noticed pinned to the fridge, handwritten, color-coded, a little smudged with use, you remember the time slot. It’s just about time for Nori’s next bottle. Her fussiness makes sense now.

“Is someone hungry?” you whisper, glancing down at the tiny bundle in your arms.

Nori wriggles a little at the sound of your voice, her face scrunching just slightly. Not quite a cry, more of a soft, impatient whimper.

You smooth the hair out of her face and walk out of the nursery, gently easing the door shut behind you.

The living room is still quiet.

Jungkook hasn’t moved. One arm now drapes off the recliner, fingers twitching slightly with whatever dream he’s locked in. The angle of his neck looks mildly uncomfortable.

You smile faintly and keep walking.

In the kitchen, the fridge opens with a soft hiss, the cold air brushing your arms as you reach for one of the prepped bottles nestled on the top shelf. His labeling system is surprisingly thorough, each bottle marked with the day and time it was made. You choose the most recent one, giving it a light shake as you make your way to the bottle warmer already plugged in beside the sink.

The hum of the warmer fills the kitchen while you cradle Nori against your chest with one arm. She stirs again, her little face searching instinctively, mouth parting in a hungry pout.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmur. “Almost ready.”

You glance around the kitchen as you wait, notes pinned on the corkboard, a list of emergency contacts, a reminder to order more wipes scribbled on a sticky note near the coffee pot. Everything is functional. Focused. Like a man doing his best not to drown.

And yet…

There are quiet signs of tenderness here too.

The gentle curve of Nori’s name on the fridge in soft pink magnets.

A tiny onesie draped over a chair like it had been tossed aside in a hurry.

A small giraffe pacifier clipped to the strap of a diaper bag by the door.

The bottle warmer beeps softly.

You test a few drops on your wrist before settling into a kitchen chair.

Nori latches without fuss, eyes fluttering closed, her body relaxing completely in your arms.

You breathe in the moment, slow and steady.

Nori finishes her whole bottle, much to your surprise. You hold her a moment longer, then lift her gently against your shoulder, patting her back in a soft, familiar rhythm until the telltale little burp escapes.

“Good girl,” you whisper, smiling as she lets out a sleepy sigh.

After rinsing her bottle and setting it on a drying rack beside the sink, you make your way back toward the living room, cradling her close as you go.

Carefully, you lower Nori into the baby swing stationed nearby, tucking her blanket around her legs. She shifts just a little but stays asleep, her tiny face relaxed.

You turn the setting on low, the swing humming to life with a quiet whir as it begins its gentle motion.

Then, finally, you stand and glance around the room.

Time to tackle the rest.

You move quietly as you gather scattered blankets, fold burp cloths, and rearrange toys. There’s a half-assembled baby gym you finish setting up, careful not to let any plastic joints click too loudly.

You exhale through your nose, feeling the work settle into your bones, not the exhaustion of it, but the calm. The quiet pride of being useful.

Then you stand.

And when you turn around—

You freeze.

Jungkook is awake.

He’s no longer slumped back in the recliner. He’s leaning into it, one arm propped on the armrest, his face resting in his palm as he watches you.

He doesn’t say anything. Just… stares.

There’s no judgment in his gaze. No frustration. Just something quieter. Heavier.

You freeze mid-step, hands still tucked around a neatly folded baby blanket, the soft cotton brushing your knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say, your voice softer than usual.

“I think you’ve helped enough for today,” Jungkook says, catching you off guard just as you straighten up.

You blink. “But… I thought I was supposed to stay until two? Did I do something wrong?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes. Just exhales through his nose, jaw tight. “Y/N, I can take it from here.”

Your spine straightens instinctively, the way it always does when you’re dismissed.

Behind you, Nori lets out a soft cry, the kind that means she’s waking up slowly and might fuss soon if no one picks her up.

You glance back at her, then to Jungkook again, eyes pleading.

But he brushes past you, gaze fixed on his daughter as if you’ve already ceased to exist.

He crouches beside the swing, lifting Nori into his arms with practiced ease. His voice is low, murmuring something you can’t make out. Something gentle. Something not meant for you.

His back stays turned.

You swallow against the growing ache in your throat.

“Jungkook,” you try, voice steady but soft. “If there’s something I did that was inappropriate or over the line, I’d really like to know. I’d never overstep intentionally. I just…” you trail off, gathering yourself. “I’d sincerely like to make things right.”

He doesn’t turn. Just shifts Nori higher against his chest.

Your Omega stirs uneasily beneath your skin, whining in confusion at the sudden rejection.

“Y/N,” he says finally, his voice tired and hollow.

“Please… just leave.”

It’s the first time he’s spoken to you without bite—no edge, no cold distance. Just raw emotion. Worn-thin honesty.

Realizing there’s nothing you can do in this moment to assist Jungkook’s inner turmoil, you nod, even though he can’t see it.

You quietly gather your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder, heart thudding like a dull echo in your chest. Your fingers hesitate on the doorknob, the silence between you stretching and pulling, heavy with all the unspoken things.

You glance back once more.

He’s seated on the floor now, Nori nestled against his chest, his hand gently rubbing her back.

You bite the inside of your cheek, then open the door slowly, quietly, slipping out without another word.

The click of it closing behind you feels far too final.

You arrive at the nursery 30 minutes later.

Not in the mood for Namjoon’s gentle concern or quiet questions, you avoided calling him altogether. Instead, you took the Pack’s local bus line—hood up, earbuds in, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. It was the longest short ride of your life.

When you step inside, the buzz of midday care fills the building. Toddlers laughing in the distance, the clatter of toys, the familiar scent of powder and baby lotion. But today, none of it feels comforting.

A few coworkers glance up as you enter, surprise flashing across their faces.

You offer them a tight smile and move toward the back without explaining, the echo of your own thoughts louder than the chatter around you.

You find Joyce at the sink, elbow-deep in soapy water, rinsing lunch trays while humming softly to herself. The tune stops the moment she sees you.

She frowns, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Sugar… what are you doing here?”

You force a breath through your nose and shift your weight, voice barely above a whisper.

“I think… I might’ve just gotten fired.”

Her brows shoot up. “Fired? What do you mean?”

You glance down at your hands, still clutching your bag like a shield. “He told me to leave. Said he could take it from here. Wouldn’t even look at me.”

Joyce places the towel down slowly and steps closer. “Did something happen?

You shake your head quickly. “No. Nori was fine. Everything was fine. I fed her, burped her, cleaned the house a bit while she slept. He… he woke up, and something just changed. I don’t know why. It was like a switch flipped.”

Joyce gives you a long, searching look before sighing and pulling out a chair. “Sit down, baby. Let’s talk this through.”

You drop into the seat, your whole body suddenly aching with the weight of the morning.

“I was just trying to help,” you say quietly. “I wasn’t trying to take over or do too much. I swear.”

Joyce pulls up a chair beside you and places a warm hand over yours. “I believe you. But grief and guilt—they do strange things to people. It doesn’t always make sense. And sometimes when things feel too safe, too calm, it scares them even more.”

You blink, trying to hold back the sting in your eyes.

“So where do I go from here?”

“Now you wait.” Joyce’s tone is calm, certain. “You come back to the nursery and work as usual. He may call back to continue the service—or he won’t. But either way, everything will work itself out.”

She gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before standing, slipping back into the rhythm of rinsing dishes.

You sit there for a moment, letting her words settle.

Joyce was right. As much as you longed to know what caused Jungkook to react the way he did, it wouldn’t change much. What’s done is done.

Now, all you could do was hope that the small family’s healing journey wouldn’t be paved with more pain than they could bear.

Deciding not to dwell too much on the morning’s mishaps, you pull yourself together and step into the playroom, letting the familiar rhythm of the nursery carry you forward.

——

Read part two here! Masterpost

A/N: We’ve reached the end of chapter one! I hope you guys liked it cuz ngl I rewrote it three times, lol. I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free to share them! Part 2 is already in the works! Love y’all 🫶🏽!

[infiresyg93]

the line we crossed || jjk

‘they say i’m too young to love you, i don’t know what i need.’

she was nineteen, too young for the kind of love that burned like this. he was twenty-eight, old enough to know better, but he couldn’t stay away. what began at a birthday party spiraled into something reckless, magnetic and impossible to hide. they weren’t supposed to want each other, not with the years between them, not with everything at stake, but within weeks they were already breaking rules, crossing lines and falling into a mess neither of them knew how to escape.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader (f)

total word count: 8k+ words

genre: forbidden love | age gap | exes with benefits? | angst | smut | emotional drama | older!jungkook x younger!reader |

rating: 18+

warnings: age gap relationship | angst | explicit sexual content | smut | unprotected sex | messy relationship | unhealthy coping | alcohol | toxic | cussing | hookup | obsession | uncertainty about the future | unresolved feelings |

playlist | timeline |

taglist | guide to struberri-verse l

note: ‘ … ’ before and after any paragraph denotes a past memory.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters, events and scenarios are entirely fictional and is created for entertainment purposes only. this story is not meant to reflect the real personalities or lives of the idols mentioned. please read with an open mind and remember that everything here exists in a fictional universe. please do not copy or spread hate.

the sheets are twisted around us, damp with heat, smelling like his cologne and sweat. his body cages mine without crushing, the weight of him pressed into me like gravity i can’t escape.

his mouth drags over my jaw, slow and teasing in a way that makes me want to curse him and beg him all at once. “you still taste the same.” he murmurs, lips brushing my skin. “still mine.. even if we aren’t together.”

my hand fists at his shoulder, fingers tracing the ink spiraling down his arm, half from instinct, half from spite. “shut up.” i whisper, but it comes out shaky and weak.

he chuckles against my throat, low and sinful, the sound curling down my spine. “you don’t mean that.” he says, calm and certain. “every time i drive all the way here.. you let me in. you let me touch you. that doesn’t sound like shut up to me.”

my breath catches when his thumb strokes along my hipbone, slow and intentional. it’s not rough, it’s worse, like he knows every place that unravels me.

“you’re so stubborn.” he continues, voice rough with heat. “but i like that about you. makes it worth it when you finally give in.”

i bite down on my lip, trying to hold in the sound threatening to spill out. his lips curve into a smirk when he notices, his piercing glinting under the dim light.

“don’t hide it from me.” he whispers, dipping closer, eyes heavy with something more than lust. “let me hear you. i want every sound. every breath. i came here for you.”

his forehead presses to mine, his voice dropping even lower. “tell me to stop and i will. you know that, right?”

i nod, too fast, too desperate. i hate that he’s gentle even when he’s ruining me.

his hand slides down my thigh, grip firm but reverent. “good girl.” he murmurs, the words wrecking me more than anything else. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

i choke on a laugh, bitter and broken. “you act like i’m the one begging.”

his eyes lock on mine, dark and unreadable and for a moment i see something softer there, something he’ll never admit. “you think i’d drive thirty minutes, every time, just for nothing?” his thumb brushes over my lips, lingering. “i come here because it’s you. it’s always you.”

i stare at him, at the face that’s wrecked me and remade me a hundred times and it’s the same face i saw that first night, the same pull in my chest that hasn’t let go since.

and i remember when i met him, it was so clear he was the only one for me. we both knew it, right away.

… hoseok’s house was the same as i remembered, warm but cluttered, filled with voices that overlapped in every corner. the kind of noise that wasn’t loud enough to be overwhelming.

my mom was already chatting in the living room with hoseok’s mother, their voices a mix of laughter and gossip. my dad had found a spot at the dining table with a couple of uncles, trading stories over drinks.

i hovered somewhere in between, too old to cling to my parents, too young to blend in with the adults who seemed so at ease here.

the smell of food wrapped around the house. garlic, soy, a trace of sesame oil and every so often someone passed through the hallway balancing dishes or glasses.

it felt less like a celebration and more like a rhythm, a family’s heartbeat stretched across four walls.

i had only just settled into the edge of the couch, pretending to scroll through my phone, when the front door opened. a rush of cold air, a couple of greetings tossed toward the entrance and then he walked in.

jungkook.

he wasn’t announced, wasn’t introduced. he just arrived, casual, like this was routine. like the house was already familiar to him.

the first thing i noticed wasn’t his tattoos or the lip ring, though both caught the light. it was the way he carried himself. calm and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

he bent slightly to greet hoseok’s mother with a polite bow and an easy smile, murmured something that made her beam. then a nod at hoseok’s dad, a clap on hoseok’s shoulder.

he moved through the house without forcing attention and yet somehow, the room felt different with him in it.

i shouldn’t have been looking. i told myself not to. but it was impossible not to feel the shift.

he disappeared into the kitchen with hoseok, laughter low between them, the sound carrying down the hallway. i tried to focus on the conversation my mom was having a few feet away, but my chest buzzed with something unfamiliar, something sharp, like being caught in a current.

time blurred. minutes passed, maybe longer, before he returned, carrying a tray of glasses with hoseok. they set it down on the table, voices mingling with the chatter around us.

it was only then that his eyes flicked to me. not long. just a second, maybe less. but enough.

i didn’t look away fast enough.

his expression didn’t change, didn’t give me anything to hold onto, but there was a weight in the way his gaze lingered, like he had registered me, filed me away. then it was gone, as if it had never happened, as if he was just another guest weaving through the house.

but i felt it. i felt it deep enough that my fingers tightened around my phone, even though i wasn’t really using it anymore.

i got up after a while, pretending i needed water, and slipped into the kitchen. the counter was lined with bowls and plates half filled with side dishes, bottles stacked against the wall. i poured a glass slowly, buying myself time, grounding myself in the quiet.

the sound of footsteps behind me made me stiffen. i turned just enough to see him standing there, pulling open the fridge for another bottle. the air shifted again, like it had in the living room.

up close, he looked sharper. not in the way of being intimidating, but in a way that made every detail stand out. the wet shine of his hair falling into his eyes, the silver ring at his lip catching light when he closed the fridge. tattoos inked deep into his skin, disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt.

he noticed me, of course. his eyes flicked to the glass in my hand, then to my face.

“you find everything okay?” his voice was smooth and low, not rushed.

i swallowed, fingers tightening around the glass. “yeah. just water.”

he nodded, unscrewing the bottle cap. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was almost amused, though i couldn’t tell why.

silence stretched, not awkward, not comfortable. just thick.

i hated how aware i was of myself, of my breathing, of the way my zipper jacket felt suddenly too warm, of the fact that i couldn’t think of a single normal thing to say.

finally, hoseok’s voice called from the other room, breaking the moment. jungkook took the bottle and walked past me, his shoulder brushing mine lightly, not intentional, not rough, just enough to leave a trace.

the kitchen felt too quiet after he left, the hum of the refrigerator was the only sound. i forced a sip of water, trying to steady my breathing, then set the glass down and followed the voices back into the living room.

the dining table was full now. platters of food lined the center. steamed fish, kimchi, bowls of rice and everyone was finding their seats.

i slipped into a chair between my mother and an empty place that would probably stay empty, relieved to anchor myself in the familiarity of my parents’ presence.

hoseok was laughing again, refilling glasses, dragging the energy of the room with him. i caught myself smiling, just a little, watching him.

and then jungkook sat down across from me. not directly across. one seat over, angled just enough that i could see him if i lifted my eyes even slightly.

hoseok had claimed the spot at the head of the table and jungkook slid easily into the chair at his side, as though this had always been his place.

i kept my gaze on my plate as dishes were passed around, my mom nudging me to take more food, my dad already joining in with the men’s conversation about the neighborhood, the city, the inevitable talk of politics.

but every time i moved, reaching for a dish, lifting my chopsticks, taking a sip of water, i was aware of him.

the way he leaned back slightly, casual but alert, his sleeve shifting just enough to reveal more of the ink on his arm. the way his lip ring caught when he bit down on a smile at something hoseok said. the way his laugh came low, effortless, rolling under the other voices but somehow louder to me than anything else.

i told myself not to notice. i tried.

but i did.

halfway through the meal, hoseok turned the conversation to me.

“y/n, how’s high school going?” he asked, grinning like the older brother he’d always been.

i felt my mother’s attention sharpen beside me. “she’s doing well.” she answered for me. “keeping her grades up, studying hard.”

i nodded, chewing carefully, forcing a smile. “yeah. it’s fine.”

“good.” hoseok said warmly. “that’s important. nineteen, right?”

i nodded again.

and then i felt it. jungkook’s gaze. steady and unreadable, resting on me for just a moment longer than polite. i didn’t look up, but i knew.

i knew.

my stomach tightened. i focused on my rice, the clink of chopsticks against plates, my mother’s voice joining the conversation again, filling the space. but beneath it all, there was the weight of that glance.

later, when the meal slowed and people leaned back with full stomachs, conversation scattered into smaller groups. hoseok’s mother brought out fruits, the table shifting into that softer rhythm families always fall into after eating together.

my dad was laughing with one of the uncles. my mom was trading recipes with hoseok’s mother. and i sat there, quiet, listening and pretending.

jungkook had rolled up his sleeve, resting his arm on the back of his chair as he leaned in to say something to hoseok. the ink on his skin stretched over lean muscle, bold and unapologetic. he looked comfortable, too comfortable, like he’d been part of this family forever. and maybe he had, in a way i hadn’t known until now.

i looked down at my lap, tracing circles against the fabric of my jeans with my fingertip, trying not to think about it. trying not to think about him.

but i couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the moment i’d remember, not the food, not the laughter, not even hoseok’s endless stories.

just this.

him across the table. his laugh threading through the night. the quiet, dangerous weight of knowing he had noticed me.

the air in the living room grew heavier, the way it always did once everyone had eaten too much. voices were softer now.

hoseok turned on some music. something light and old, the kind of tracks families always seem to play when they gather. my dad was humming along. my mom was laughing at a story hoseok’s mother was telling, her voice carrying easily over the room.

i slipped away to the couch, tucking my knees up under me. the television flickered silently, something no one was really watching. and then he came too.

jungkook didn’t sit near me, not exactly. he chose the armchair across the room, a beer in hand, body sprawled in a way that seemed both careless and deliberate. his head tilted back as he sipped, the silver ring at his lip catching the dim light.

i felt it again, the pull. like the air between us had shifted, gone taut.

it was ridiculous. there were ten other people in the room. my parents were ten feet away.

but still.

hoseok wandered over, dropping onto the couch beside me, ruffling my hair like he always did. “you’re too quiet.” he said, grinning. “don’t you miss me?”

i pushed his hand away, rolling my eyes. “you’ve been talking nonstop all night. hard to miss you.”

he laughed, leaning back. “same old y/n.”

and for a second it was easy again. i was just nineteen, just hoseok’s cousin, just a kid dragged along to family gatherings.

until i glanced up.

jungkook was watching. not smiling, not smirking, just.. watching.

i looked away fast, heat rushing to my face.

hoseok nudged me with his knee. “you’re almost done with high school, right?” he said, voice a little playful, like he was letting me in on something.

i nodded, hugging my knees. “yeah. just a couple weeks left.”

his grin widened, the kind of grin that always felt like trouble. “then we’ll finally hang out properly. i’ll take you out.”

i gave him a look. “out where?”

“clubs, obviously.” he said, laughing as he leaned back, throwing an arm over the backrest. “you’re grown up now. you can’t just sit at home forever. when i was eighteen, i snuck out to seomyeon and hit this club with my friends. it was insane. i thought i was the coolest guy in the world.”

i rolled my eyes, but he just kept going, animated as ever. “no, seriously. you should go. there’s this place by haeundae, another one near gwangalli. good music and people everywhere. i’ll show you sometime, yeah?”

his voice was bright, easy and full of warmth, the same warmth he’d always had since we were kids. the same kind of teasing that felt safe and familiar.

but i felt it again. that other presence. jungkook hadn’t moved from his chair. he was lounging still, one hand wrapped lazily around his drink, gaze half lidded and unreadable.

i tried not to look at him, tried to keep my attention on hoseok’s stories, his laugh that rang out so effortlessly. but every so often, i could feel it, that quiet, heavy awareness pressing into the edges of the room.

time blurred a little after that. conversations melting into the low hum of the television, the sound of someone’s laughter in the kitchen, the clink of another glass being set down.

eventually, my mom tugged at her scarf, murmuring about the late hour. my dad was already stretching, rising to his feet.

we gathered our things slowly. my mom pressed hoseok’s hands warmly, telling him how much he’d grown, how he should visit more often. my dad gave him a solid pat on the back, proud and affectionate all at once.

“happy birthday again.” i said, quieter, when it was my turn. hoseok grinned, pulling me into a quick hug, ruffling my hair the same way he always had.

the front door opened, the night air slipping in cool and gentle. our families exchanged more goodbyes, promises to meet again soon, voices carrying into the stairwell.

and when i glanced back, just once, before stepping out, he was there. jungkook, leaning against the wall, still silent, still watching …

the memory dissolves the second his hand tightens on my hip. present rushes back like a slap, like the sharp drag of his teeth against my throat.

“you’re drifting.” jungkook mutters, voice low and rough, almost amused. “thinking about something else while i’m inside you?”

his hips shift, deeper and i choke on the sound that escapes me.

“answer me.”

“no.” i gasp, nails digging into his back.

he smirks against my skin, that same devastating curve of his mouth that hasn’t changed since the first night i saw him. “then tell me what you’re thinking.”

i don’t. i can’t. because the truth is it’s him, always him, past, present, every breath in between.

instead i whisper, “harder.” and the look in his eyes changes, darkens.

he gives it to me. dragging it out, making me feel every inch of him until my body trembles. his hand comes up, fingers gripping my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

“you take me so well.” he breathes. “like you were made for it. you know that, right?”

and i’m staring at him, at this man i swore i’d never let touch me again and it’s dizzying how it still feels like the beginning and the end all at once.

the weight of him. the taste of him. the way he says things that shouldn’t sound like love but somehow do.

and as the years went on, things got more difficult.

… the rain had been falling for hours, soft against the thin windows of my apartment. the kind of sound that usually made me feel less alone.

tonight, it just seemed to highlight how quiet he was. jungkook sat at the edge of my bed, shoulders bent forward, tattooed arm resting heavy on his knee. his hand dangled loose, ring glinting under the dim lamp.

i sat across from him, curled into myself on the couch, the small distance between us unbearable.

half an hour he’d driven, like always, through traffic and rain, but he wasn’t here in the same way he used to be. i could feel the difference in my chest.

his silence was louder than anything.

“say something.” i whispered. my voice cracked even though i tried to keep it steady.

his tongue pressed against his cheek. he didn’t look at me right away. when he did, his eyes were unreadable, dark and endless in the way they always had been, but tonight they weren’t mine.

“this isn’t working anymore.”

the words fell heavy. a blunt knife dragged across my ribs.

i swallowed, shook my head, leaned forward. “don’t- don’t say that.”

his lips parted and for a moment i thought he’d take it back. instead, he sighed, rubbed at the back of his neck like the weight of what he was doing was too much.

“y/n, you know what this is. how it’s been. i’m tired of..” he trailed off, fingers tightening. “i’m tired of hiding. of looking over my shoulder every time i come here. of thinking hoseok or your parents will find out. i’m thirty, i shouldn’t be sneaking around like a damn kid.”

his words cut, but i understood them. i hated that i understood.

we were faced with more challenges.

i curled my knees closer to my chest, nails digging into my skin. “we can get through that. we have before. you’re just.. tired tonight, that’s all.”

he shook his head, slow and final. “it’s more than that. i can’t keep doing this.”

the air thinned, pressing down on me until i couldn’t hold it inside. i crossed the room before i even thought, kneeling in front of him, grabbing his wrist. “don’t you dare.” i said, voice breaking. “don’t you dare throw this away.”

his gaze fell to my hand on him, the tremor in my fingers.

“look at me.” i demanded. my throat hurt. “remember how it was, at the start? remember? you would drive all night just to see me and it didn’t matter if we had an hour or ten minutes- you were there. we laughed, we.. we were happy. we’re still happy.”

i begged him to stay.

my grip tightened, like i could anchor him here with me. “please, kook. i can’t- i can’t lose you.”

his jaw clenched, his body coiled with restraint. his free hand reached up, brushed my cheek, almost tender, but it felt like goodbye.

“you think i don’t remember?” his voice was low, shaking. “you think i don’t replay it all the time? the way you smiled at me like i was the only one. the way it felt so damn easy, like nothing else mattered.” he swallowed hard, pulling his hand back. “but it’s not like that anymore. every time i touch you, i’m thinking about who might find out. every kiss feels like a risk i don’t know how to take anymore.”

my chest caved. i shook my head until my vision blurred. “then stop thinking. just- just love me. that’s all i’m asking.”

tried to remember what we had at the beginning.

his eyes softened, but not in the way i needed. there was no fire in them, no ache that mirrored mine, only something muted and cruel in its gentleness and pity.

i hated it. i hated him for looking at me like that, like i was fragile glass he couldn’t afford to hold anymore.

“don’t look at me like that.” i snapped, though my voice broke halfway. my hands slid from his wrist to his thigh, gripping tight and desperate. “i’m not someone you can just.. put away when it gets too heavy for you.”

“y/n..” his tone was weary, almost pleading, but not for the same thing i was begging for.

“no.” i whispered, shaking my head, leaning closer until my forehead pressed against his knee.

my tears had already slipped, warm against my skin and i didn’t bother to wipe them. “please, jungkook. i’ll do anything. i’ll be quieter, smarter. i’ll stop asking for more. just don’t- don’t leave me.”

my words spilled out messy and humiliating. i hated myself for them, but i meant every single one.

his hand hovered above me, shaking like he wanted to touch me but couldn’t trust himself. he let it drop to his lap instead. “you don’t get it.” he muttered, voice low. “you shouldn’t have to beg me like this. it shouldn’t feel like this at all.”

i lifted my head, searched his face through the blur of tears. “but i love you.” the words tore out of me, raw. “i love you more than anything. isn’t that enough?”

he blinked hard, jaw locked and i thought for a moment it might break him, the way i knew my love always had. but then he exhaled, long and heavy and stood.

the bed dipped empty and my heart crashed with it.

i scrambled up, caught his wrist again, tighter this time. “don’t. please don’t go. not like this.”

his body stilled, but he didn’t look at me. he stood over me, head bowed, black hair falling into his eyes. “if i stay, i’ll ruin you.” he whispered.

i choked on a sob, clutching at him. “you already have. don’t make it worse by leaving.”

his hand turned, pried mine off gently, one finger at a time. the way he always handled me, gentle even when i didn’t want him to be.

“y/n.” his voice cracked, quiet. “you’re twenty-one. you have a whole life ahead of you. you don’t need to waste it on someone like me. someone who can’t even give you all of himself without fear eating it alive.”

i stared at him, broken open, unable to breathe. “but i don’t want a whole life. i just want you.”

he closed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “and i want you too.” his voice was so raw it nearly fooled me. “god, i want you so bad it hurts.”

then he shook his head, ripped the words away. “but i can’t. not anymore.”

i watched him move to the door, every step deliberate, his broad shoulders carrying away everything i’d ever known of safety. my apartment suddenly felt smaller, suffocating, the walls pressing in.

“don’t leave me.” i whispered one last time, so quiet i wasn’t sure he even heard.

his hand lingered on the doorknob. i thought he might turn back. i prayed.

instead, he opened it and the cold hallway air rushed in, swallowing me whole.

the door clicked shut behind him, final and soft and i swear i felt the sound lodge itself into my bones.

i collapsed against the bed, body shaking, nails digging into the sheets he’d been sitting on minutes before. they still smelled like him. i pressed my face into the fabric and let myself break the way i couldn’t in front of him.

and for the first time since i’d met him, i realized love wasn’t always enough …

his hand is gripping the back of my thigh now, pulling it higher against his hip, the sheets tangled and damp under us.

i gasp into his mouth, my nails scratching at his shoulders, dragging down his skin like i’m desperate to leave proof.

his body is heavy over mine, hot, steady and relentles and still it’s not enough. it never is.

his breath brushes my jaw as he groans, low and rough, “look at you. you’ll take everything i give you, won’t you?”

i choke, my forehead pressed against his temple. “don’t stop.”

his rhythm is maddening, controlled and deep, perfectly measured to keep me on the edge but never let me fall. it’s cruel the way he knows me, the way he holds me there.

“say it again.” he demands, his voice sharper now.

“please.” i arch against him, shaking, eyes shut tight. “please, i’ll take it, i can take it, just-”

his mouth crashes into mine, swallowing my words. his tongue drags slow, possessive and i think i might die from how good it feels to drown under him like this.

i’m so close it aches, my body clenching around him, my heart racing like it’s about to split my ribs. i bury my face in his neck, teeth scraping his skin and he hisses my name.

i never learn how to breathe when i’m with him.

he was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it.

… the music was loud, thick bass thumping so deep it seemed to rattle the floor beneath us. the crowd moved as one messy, sweaty body, arms in the air, lights flashing red, blue, purple across their faces.

i had finally agreed to go to a club with hoseok after meeting him at his birthday just a few weeks earlier and jungkook had tagged along as well.

hoseok was laughing, drunk, spinning me around. his energy wild and endless like always. i laughed too, though i wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol flooding my veins or from the way jungkook’s gaze kept finding me even when i pretended not to notice.

he was next to us, dancing too, his movements smoother and darker, but so alive. his shirt clung to him, damp with sweat and his hair was pushed back from his forehead, a few strands falling into his eyes.

women brushed against him as they passed, smiles too wide, lips too red and he didn’t even look at them. his focus kept sliding back to me.

when he walked in every woman’s head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him.

but now, now he was here and he was only looking at me.

hoseok didn’t notice, too lost in the music, too drunk to see the way my hand brushed against jungkook’s arm when the beat jolted us together, or the way his palm pressed against the small of my back when i stumbled. it could’ve been innocent. it wasn’t.

i felt it in the way his fingers lingered too long, in the way my body reacted instantly, traitorously, leaning into his touch.

our eyes met for a second too long.

i broke it first, turning back to hoseok, forcing another laugh, but my chest was tight and my skin burned everywhere jungkook had touched me. the alcohol made it worse, loosening every boundary, making everything sharper.

i danced harder, let the music swallow me, but i could still feel him, so close, so dangerously close.

hoseok shouted something in my ear, his voice cracking with amusement, but then his phone buzzed, the light from the screen cutting across his face. he frowned, leaned back and cursed under his breath.

“shit- i gotta go.” he said. “emergency.”

i blinked, dizzy from the alcohol, the flashing lights. “what?”

he turned to jungkook, already slipping his phone into his pocket. “kook- hey, can you drop her? please. i can’t leave her here alone.”

jungkook’s eyes flicked to me, unreadable, then back to hoseok. “yeah. i’ll take her.”

just like that, hoseok was gone, swallowed by the crowd, his absence sudden and sharp. the air felt heavier without him.

the music was still loud, but i heard nothing but the silence between us, thick and loaded. i was too aware of him now, of his eyes, his hands, the way he was standing too close.

“you good?” he asked, voice low, soft enough that it curled right into me.

i nodded quickly, though my heart was racing, my face hot. “yeah.”

he didn’t push, didn’t step back. instead, he reached for me, slow and deliberate, pulling me back into the sway of the music.

and i let him.

we moved together, closer than before, our bodies brushing with every beat, every shift. his hand slid down my arm, stopping just above my wrist, his thumb stroking the skin there. i shivered, couldn’t stop myself.

his breath brushed my ear when he leaned in, low and rough, almost drowned by the bass. “you feel that?”

i froze, though my body kept moving with the rhythm, pulled along by his. “what?”

“this.” his lips barely moved, but i felt every syllable against my skin. “you trying to pretend you don’t want it.”

my chest tightened, heat crawling up my neck. “i’m drunk.” i muttered, the excuse sounding weak even to me.

“so am i.” his mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile, it was darker than that, knowing. “but doesn’t change a damn thing.”

the words settled heavy between us, heavier than the music, heavier than the crowd pressing all around. every brush of his body against mine felt deliberate now, every glance a test i was failing.

i should’ve stepped back. i didn’t.

instead, i let him pull me closer until there was no space left, until the beat wasn’t what i was moving to anymore, it was him. the pressure of his hand on my hip, the slow drag of his thumb against the bare skin of my arm, the heat of his chest against mine.

reckless and dangerous. and i couldn’t stop.

when we finally pushed through the crowd to leave, he held my hand the whole time. firm and steady, his palm burning into mine, claiming me without a word.

he didn’t let go until we stepped into the cooler night air, the music fading behind us, the silence suddenly louder than anything.

-

his car smelled of his faint cologne and lingering smoke. i had my phone open, gps casting a pale blue glow across my fingers and i tried to focus on the map instead of him.

he kept glancing at me, every few seconds, the corner of his eyes catching mine just long enough to make my chest tighten. his lips parted slightly and i could see the glint of his silver lip ring as his tongue dragged over it, slow and deliberate.

my stomach knotted, a rush of heat crawling through me that made it hard to breathe.

“don’t do that.” i whispered, voice trembling, barely audible over the soft hum of the engine. my hand curled in my lap, fidgeting with the hem of my dress.

“do what?” he asked, glancing at me briefly, and the corner of his mouth twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk.

“that.” i said again, voice quieter this time, almost pleading. “that thing with your mouth.”

he chuckled softly, low and dangerous, leaning just a fraction closer, the scent of his cologne washing over me in waves. “i can’t help it.” he murmured. “you’re.. intoxicating.”

i swallowed hard, fingers gripping the seat, stomach twisting in ways that made me dizzy. “this.. this is wrong..” i whispered.

his gaze locked on mine, heavy, knowing and unrelenting. the car moved steadily under us, headlights cutting through the night, tires humming over the asphalt, but everything outside the windshield might as well have been a different world.

it was just us, caught in the tight coil of tension that had grown over the weeks we hadn’t seen each other.

his hand brushed my thigh, just grazing, not pressing, enough to make me shiver violently. i tried to move, to pull away, but something about the way he was looking at me made my body betray me, leaning closer despite my own protests.

he shifted, slowing the car until it rolled to a gentle stop on the side of a quiet street, far from the city lights, the world outside suddenly silent.

he didn’t take his eyes off me. “i’ve wanted you.” he said, voice low, almost a growl, “ever since hoseok’s birthday. the first time i saw you, your laugh, the way you moved, that little spark in your eyes.. i couldn’t get you out of my head. god, y/n, i’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

i froze, my chest hammering, unable to speak, unable to deny the pull i felt.

he leaned closer, fingertips tracing the curve of my jaw, tilting my head up just enough to meet his lips. i barely had time to breathe before he kissed me. slow, claiming and relentless. it wasn’t gentle. it wasn’t kind. it was magnetic, dangerous and my body responded before my mind could catch up.

“jungkook..” i breathed against his lips, my fingers pressing into his chest. “we shouldn’t-”

“i know.” he murmured between kisses, teeth grazing my bottom lip, tongue nudging against mine.

i shook my head, my breath shaky, my heart pounding against my ribs. “you’re older… i’m- this feels..” the words tangled on my tongue, heavy with doubt.

his hands didn’t tighten, didn’t push, just rested at my jaw, steady, warm and anchoring me in the chaos of it all. his gaze burned into mine, desperate but gentle, like he was asking and begging at the same time.

“i know.” he whispered, voice rough but careful, as if he might break me if he spoke too loud. “and if you don’t want this, tell me to stop. i will.”

i swallowed hard, my fingers brushing over his chest before curling in the fabric of his shirt, unable to pull away. “it’s not that i don’t want to..” my voice trembled, the truth spilling out like a secret i couldn’t hold anymore.

his jaw flexed, restraint written in every line of his body, though his eyes shone with a hunger he couldn’t mask. “then don’t fight it.” he said softly, almost pleading. “let me have you, only if you want me too.”

the air between us felt fragile, like glass. i leaned in just an inch, my forehead brushing his and whispered, “i want you. i’m just.. scared.”

his thumb stroked gently over my hip, grounding me, steadying me. “then we’ll go slow.” he murmured, breath hitching, reverence in every word. “whatever you give me, i’ll take it like it’s everything.”

i trembled in the passenger seat, the pull between us unbearable. he leaned across the console, lips crashing against mine and still it felt like we were hovering on the edge, caught between desperation and restraint.

my body angled toward him, his hand gripping my jaw like it was the only thing keeping him steady and yet the space of the car pressed in around us, reminding us how wrong it all was, even as neither of us could pull away.

“get on my lap.” he breathed, voice rough, shaking with need. “i can’t- i can’t kiss you like this.”

i hesitated, swallowed, then slowly moved, straddling him. my dress rode up slightly, hips brushing his, hands clutching his shoulders as if holding on could keep the world at bay.

he kissed me again, teeth and tongue and lips melding with mine and every time i tried to pull back, tried to remind myself how wrong this was, how dangerous, how impossible, he pulled me closer and i couldn’t resist.

“you feel that?” he murmured against my mouth, voice hoarse. “the way we fit together..”

i pressed back, whispering against his lips, “you don’t even know me.”

he captured my mouth again, silencing me, teeth grazing my jaw, tongue exploring, hands holding my waist like he would never let go. “doesn’t stop me from wanting to.” he said, voice rough, trembling almost.

we kissed again, slower this time, drawn out, desperate, the tension between us a living thing, pulsing with every heartbeat. every inch of skin pressed together, every breath shared, every whispered protest we couldn’t heed only made the pull stronger, more urgent.

i was nineteen. nineteen and kissing a man nine years older, a man i had only seen once before at hoseok’s birthday, someone i shouldn’t have been thinking about, shouldn’t have been craving. and yet, here i was, on his lap, his hands gripping my waist like he needed me more than air.

it felt dangerous and forbidden, like a secret i shouldn’t hold. but god, it thrilled me.

every brush of his lip ring against my mouth made my chest ache, every sweep of his tongue tangled me deeper into him. my body was alive in a way i didn’t recognize, a raw hunger clawing its way up my throat.

his hand slid beneath the hem of my dress, fingers splaying against the bare skin of my thigh, warm and steady but trembling faintly, like he was just as undone as me.

“this is wrong.” i whispered again, but the words were drowned by the sound of my own heartbeat hammering in my ears.

“then stop me.” he rasped, eyes heavy, lips swollen, forehead pressed to mine.

but i didn’t. i couldn’t.

instead i kissed him harder, let myself sink into the fire of him, the thrill of knowing he wanted me just as badly as i wanted him.

it was too much. too soon. but it was him …

and then it was him again, two years later, the same desperation but sharper, heavier and older now, carved into every touch, every gasp.

his mouth was still on mine, still taking, still giving, but now it was skin against skin, my body bare beneath his, the sheets twisted around my legs.

his hand gripped my thigh, spreading me open wider for him and i cried out into his mouth when he pushed in deeper, filling me so completely i swore i could feel him everywhere.

“fuck-” the curse tore from his throat, low and guttural, his lips brushing my jaw. “you feel- so fucking good-”

my nails scraped down his back, my head tipping back into the pillows, a broken moan spilling out as he moved, slow at first, torturously slow, every drag of him inside me pulling a sound i didn’t know i could make.

“jungkook-” his name fell from my lips like it had that night in the car, breathless and desperate, only now it was tangled with a sob of pleasure, my body arching up to meet his.

he groaned, deep and rough and kissed me hard, swallowing my cries as his hips pressed deeper, harder, finding a rhythm that made my stomach twist tight with every thrust.

the room was hot, thick with sweat and breath and the sound of skin meeting skin, the sheets damp beneath us.

“y/n-” he panted against my mouth, forehead pressing to mine. “you drive me fucking insane.”

his words shattered something inside me, sent a rush of heat shooting straight through me.

i clung to him, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “don’t stop.” i gasped, voice breaking, “please don’t stop-”

his hand found mine, fingers lacing, squeezing tight as if anchoring himself. “never.” he groaned and his thrusts grew rougher and faster, each one hitting deeper, pulling me closer to the edge i was desperate to fall from.

my body was trembling, vision blurring, every nerve screaming with need.

“look at me.” he growled, voice strained, eyes dark and wild. “cum for me, baby- let me see you-”

i met his gaze and it was too much. the heat, the hunger, the way he was looking at me like i was the only thing that mattered.

my back arched, a broken cry spilling from my lips as the knot snapped, my body convulsing around him. i gasped his name, moaned it, clung to him like i’d never let go as wave after wave crashed through me.

he cursed, loud and rough, his body shaking as he buried himself deep one last time, his release hitting hard, spilling into me, his grip on my hand tightening until it almost hurt.

we both collapsed, breathless, bodies tangled, hearts pounding against each other’s skin.

his body still pressed to mine, heavy and hot, his chest damp with sweat against my skin.

he hadn’t pulled out yet, his cock still inside me, twitching faintly, the last remnants of him deep where i ached most. every slow pulse of him made me shiver, sensitive, raw and stretched in a way that left me trembling.

he didn’t move. not yet. instead, his weight settled into me and i let my legs stay wrapped around his waist, holding him there as if i could keep the moment from ending.

his forehead rested against my shoulder, his breath ragged, damp strands of hair sticking to his temple.

i closed my eyes, chest rising and falling too fast, my body still clinging to the aftershocks.

it felt like time had stopped. like we were caught in some suspended space where nothing else existed but the ache between us, the heat, the way his heart hammered against mine.

slowly, he shifted, bracing himself on his elbows, lifting his weight just enough to look at me. his eyes found mine, dark and unreadable, pupils blown wide. i felt bare under his gaze, more naked than i already was.

his hand lifted, fingers brushing back damp strands of hair from my forehead. gentle, almost hesitant. i leaned into the touch, desperate for it, needing him to give me something, anything.

my lips parted before i could stop myself. the words slipped out like a confession i’d been holding too long. “i love you.”

the silence stretched and he stilled.

his thumb lingered at my temple, tracing down to the line of my jaw. his eyes searched mine, so deep i thought i might drown in them.

and then, he leaned in, kissed me. not hurried. not desperate. a soft, lingering press of his mouth against mine.

but when he pulled back, he didn’t say it. not then.

only later, when i wasn’t expecting it, when it wouldn’t feel so raw, so dangerous.

and i knew it. i felt it in the way his gaze flickered, in the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, like the words burned in him but he couldn’t let them out.

so i let it go. let the kiss be enough. because jungkook had always been like that.

he was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself.

… we had been sitting in his apartment, the space dim and cluttered, smelling faintly of his cologne and the cigerettes he always smoked. i was curled up on his couch, legs tucked beneath me, watching him pace as he tried to explain something i couldn’t fully understand.

six months had passed since that night in the car, the night everything between us shifted and somehow we had been together ever since. half a year of stolen moments, quiet touches and a thousand unspoken questions that still lingered between us.

his hands moved as he spoke, gestures sharp and restless, his voice low and tight like he was fighting himself more than me.

“you don’t get it.” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement.

“then make me get it.” i whispered, my fingers knotting together in my lap.

he turned to me then, eyes burning, jaw clenched and for a moment i thought he’d snap. but he didn’t. instead, he sank down in front of me, kneeling between my knees, his palms pressing against my thighs with a force that made me gasp.

“you make me lose control.” he admitted, voice raw. “and i can’t- fuck, i can’t hold it together around you.”

my breath caught.

his hands slid higher, gripping harder and i felt the tremor running through him. like he was on the edge of breaking, of unraveling completely.

“jungkook-”

“don’t you see?” he cut me off, leaning closer, his forehead pressing to my knee. “i’m supposed to be better than this. older. smarter. but when it’s you-” his laugh was hollow, pained. “when it’s you, i can’t fucking contain myself.”

my chest ached.

i reached down, touched his face, made him look at me. and when his eyes lifted, when that storm of guilt and hunger and helplessness stared back, i knew.

i knew exactly what he meant.

because i felt it too, the chaos of it, the way being with him shook me to my core, tore apart everything i thought i knew about love and rules and right and wrong.

i always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him.

because he could’ve had anyone. women who matched his years, women who understood the heaviness of his responsibilities, women who wouldn’t make him doubt himself each time he reached for them. women who wouldn’t have made him feel guilty for wanting.

but he chose me.

he chose a girl younger, inexperienced and reckless in a way he had already grown out of. he chose the girl who should’ve been untouchable to him. and still, despite everything stacked against us, despite how it must’ve gnawed at him in the quiet hours, he loved me.

and in that way, i understood him.

because i knew what it was to want something that felt wrong and right at the same time. i knew what it was to feel the ache of holding back, the sting of denying myself, the hunger that never quieted even when i tried to bury it.

and so when he touched me, when he chose me, i knew it wasn’t because he didn’t have other choices. it was because, despite everything, he couldn’t stop himself. neither could i.

and i loved him.

i loved him in the way you love something you know you shouldn’t touch, but can’t stop reaching for.

i loved him in the way that made my chest ache when i thought of him with anyone else, in the way that made me reckless with my own heart, in the way that made me ready to endure whatever consequences came, just for one more moment of him.

i loved him, in the quiet hours, in the loud ones, in the spaces between his words when he stayed silent because he didn’t know what to say.

i loved him, even when it hurt. even when i thought i shouldn’t.

i loved him.

i loved him,

i loved him …

the sheets clung to my skin, damp with sweat, tangled around my legs as i shifted closer to him. his body was still warm against mine, the weight of him half draped over me, his breath uneven at the crown of my head.

we hadn’t moved much since, hadn’t bothered to pull the blanket fully over us. his arm stayed around me, heavy and grounding, fingers occasionally flexing like he wasn’t even conscious of holding me tighter.

my cheek rested against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

i didn’t know what this meant, what we were, what future we could possibly have. i didn’t know if this was still temporary, still fragile, something we’d break apart just by naming it too loudly.

but right then, wrapped in his arms, my body still humming from the way he had claimed me.

i still love him.

i love him.

if you’ve realized it by now , then yes , i’ve used lana del rey’s national anthem monologue in the story hehe

taglist: @niconiconi-30 @bammbi-jeon127 @nikkinikj @mar-lo-pap @mimi1097 @bbtsficrecs @daisiesarepretty7

[infiresyg93]

ALL MINE

On days your husband is home all day, you just have to cling onto him and never let go.

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; fluff

➪ TAGS/WARNINGS; drabble, established relationship, pure fluff, lots of kissing, light humour, neurosurgeon jk, clingy reader

➪ WORDCOUNT; 2k

𐚁₊⊹

▎6 JULY 2025

It was like every twice in a blue moon that Jungkook would skip the gym just to spend time with you instead. For someone who thrived on routine and discipline, this was no small sacrifice. The gym was his way of keeping his mind sharp and his body in peak condition, rather than a hobby.

But that was only part of it, because besides being a gym rat, Jungkook was also a neurosurgeon. And that too one of the best in the hospital. He was constantly juggling surgeries, patient consultations, and emergency calls. His life revolved around saving lives and pushing himself to his limits. And in between all of that, he still found time to maintain his own health, physically and mentally.

Jungkook believed in balance, even if that balance often meant less time for you than you would’ve liked. He was a man of focus and responsibility, and while that made you proud, it also made you miss him even more.

Yet despite everything, Jungkook was never completely out of your reach. Even on his busiest and terrible days, he made sure you knew you were on his mind. He would take every opportunity he could get to call you just to hear your voice, to ask if you had eaten, to check if you were okay. And if you ever needed him, truly needed him, he would drop everything.

You never abused that, because you knew how precious his time was. He gave his all to everything he did, whether it was in the operating room or with you.

However, you couldn’t entirely deny that sometimes, sometimes, you wanted to be a little selfish. You wanted him to yourself and not as the world-class neurosurgeon or the disciplined gym enthusiast, but simply as your Jungkook.

And on rare days when you actually got that, you found it impossible to keep your hands to yourself.

When Jungkook woke in the morning from a much-needed, long-deserved sleep, he found himself completely trapped. Your arms were wound securely around his waist, one of your legs tossed over his, and your face pressed into the crook of his neck. With the soft warmth of your breath fanning against his skin, it made him shiver a little despite the comfort of it. He could barely move, but he didn’t complain. In fact, he found it ridiculously endearing. There was something about your stubborn refusal to let go that made his heart swell.

From morning till now, you hadn’t let him out of your grasp. You clung to him like a sloth with your limbs wrapped tight, and you had no intention of letting go anytime soon. It was rare that he got a proper break, and now that he finally did, you weren’t about to waste a single second.

Currently the two of you were curled up on the sofa with a movie playing in the background. It was your idea, though you weren’t even paying attention. Instead, you found yourself staring at your devastatingly gorgeous husband, and every detail of his face was somehow more distracting than anything happening on screen. The sharp line of his jaw, the softness in his big doe eyes, the way the light caught against his skin — you couldn’t look away.

Jungkook, of course, was well aware. He always noticed. He could feel your intense gaze burning into him, and it amused him to no end. You looked like you were seconds away from devouring him whole. Unintentional but impossible to hold back, a chuckle slipped out his lips.

“Why’re you laughing?” you asked, scooting even closer as though you weren’t already glued to his side.

“Oh, nothing,” he said with a small smile, looking at you briefly before turning back to the movie.

There was a long pause, and you continued to stare at him, eyes tracing every sharp line of his face. The longer he ignored your gaze, the more restless you became. You huffed quietly and sank against him with exaggerated dramatics, but he didn’t budge. His eyes remained glued to the television, and you knew deep down that he was doing it on purpose. He loved teasing you. He loved testing just how long you could endure before breaking.

“Baby,” you whined softly as you rested your head against his firm chest.

“Hmm?” Jungkook responded with a low, absentminded hum, but his focus never left the screen.

“I missed having you like this, you know?” you admitted. You slipped your hand beneath the hem of his t-shirt, your fingertips tracing the ridges of his defined abs.

“Hmm,” he hummed again, his attention still fixed on the movie.

You frowned as irritation began bubbling in your chest. Sitting up quickly, you grabbed his face with both hands and forced him to look at you. His round doe eyes blinked at your sudden assertiveness, amusement flickering behind them.

“I’m serious,” you told him firmly.

A soft smirk curved his lips. “Alright, honey,” he said softly, his tone almost mocking in its gentleness. Somehow, that only made you more frustrated.

Instead of arguing, you leaned forward and smashed your lips against his, pouring every ounce of pent-up longing into the kiss. Jungkook felt the air get knocked out of him, momentarily caught off guard as your hunger overwhelmed him. You kissed him with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. Your lips were pressing hard against his, your tongue slipping past his parted mouth every chance you got.

As the air between you grew hotter and more desperate, Jungkook’s breath quickened. His chest rose sharply beneath your palms, and his hands twitched like he was resisting the urge to pull you closer.

But just when he was about to deepen the kiss, you pulled away. Both of you were breathless, panting into the small space between your lips. His lips were swollen, pink and glistening. His dark eyes were overflowing with affection as they locked onto yours — soft, tender, and full of love that words could never convey.

“You’re so annoying, you know?” you muttered to him, though your tone wavered between frustration and desperation.

“But fuck, I just want to have you all to myself and devour you completely. You don’t understand how badly I miss you when you’re off at work.”

And before Jungkook could even respond, you crushed your lips against his again. The kiss was slower and gentler this time. You shifted onto his lap, straddling him with your elbows resting on top of his shoulders as you cradled his head. Your fingers threaded through his hair as you continued to kiss him like you weren’t about to stop.

“I know how important your job is,” you whispered between kisses, lips brushing against his with every word. “But I miss you every minute that you’re away from me baby.”

Jungkook’s arms tightened firmly around your waist as he pulled you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. His lips moved against yours in a slow rhythm, savoring every second, before his teeth caught gently on your bottom lip, sending shivers through you.

The playful banter faded, guilt shadowing his eyes as he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered.

You shook your head slowly, offering him a small, reassuring smile as your thumb brushed across his cheek. His forehead was still pressed against yours, and his warm and uneven breath mingled with your own.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered softly.

“You’re blessed with such intelligence and skills that people need you, specifically you. Of course they’re going to call you and rely on you. You save lives every day Jungkook. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, sighing quietly. “Still, I wish I could spend more time with you,” he murmured. “I hate that I’m not here as much as you deserve.”

You tilted his chin gently, forcing him to meet your gaze again. “Do you really think I don’t know that? Do you think I can’t see how much you love me even when you’re not here?”

“Every little moment you steal just to check in on me, it matters. It reminds me I’m always on your mind, even when you’re busy saving the world.”

Jungkook let out a shaky laugh, the corner of his lips twitching. “Saving the world huh? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“Well,” you said, smirking as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, “you’re my world. So when you’re out there saving lives, you’re saving mine too. Because you come back to me.”

His heart brimmed at your words. He tightened his hold on your waist, pressing you against him more. “God, how did I get so lucky with you?” he whispered, almost to himself.

“You didn’t get lucky,” you teased lightly, kissing the tip of his nose. “You chose me. And I chose you. That’s what matters.”

For a moment, comfortable silence settled between you both. His eyes softened, and they were no longer clouded by guilt but by pure adoration. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, letting his fingers linger against your skin.

“God, I love you so fucking much. More than anything. Heck, even more than my work” he said, and pecked your lips once and then twice.

“Are you sure? The gym seems to be your second home these days,” you teased, raising a brow as you gave him a mock-accusing look.

Jungkook let out an airy chuckle. Before you could blink, he stood up and swept you up into his arms with effortless strength. You squealed in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“Jungkook!” you gasped.

But he knew better than to let you slip. His grip was secure and strong, yet very gentle. With a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, he looked at you. “The gym isn’t all that when I get to carry you around all day,” he said smoothly as he made his way to the bedroom.

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you calling me fat now?” you asked as you looked at him with an exaggerated frown, though the little pout on your lips betrayed your playfulness.

“I didn’t mean it like that baby,” he quickly said, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss against your lips. His tone was soft and reassuring, but the sparkle in his eyes showed he was enjoying your reaction far too much.

With a gentle kick, he nudged the bedroom door open and carried you inside. He set you down carefully on the bed, but his hands never left you until he was sure you were comfortable against the pillows. Then he leaned over you, bracing himself with one arm while the other cupped your cheek tenderly.

“I’d rather carry you than lift weights, because you are what’s more important to me” he murmured with his gaze locked onto yours.

“All you have to do is tell me, and I’ll drop everything and anything in a heartbeat.”

You puckered your lips as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill. Your eyes glistened as you reached up, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek. You knew, deep in your bones, just how much he loved you. He would climb the tallest mountain despite his fear of heights, cross oceans without hesitation, or drop everything in his busy world if it meant bringing a smile back to your face.

The way Jungkook cared for you was unlike anything you had ever known. You were his world, and no one else ever saw you the way he did, or loved you with such depth.

“I love you,” your voice cracked as you whispered.

His response was immediate. His lips curved into a small, tender smile before he leaned down to press them against yours. “I love you more princess,” he mumbled against your mouth, and sealed the words with yet another kiss.

You wondered how you had gotten so impossibly lucky, but you thanked the heavens everyday for blessing you with someone like him in your life.

[infiresyg93]

ALWAYS LOVE | jjk

⤷ when the world’s most famous quarterback walks into your quiet little library, your heart skips a beat—or maybe two, especially when it’s jungkook, your high school crush. eleven years have passed, but your feeling haven’t faded, not even a little. what you never expected? he felt the same way all along… and now, everything you left unsaid is coming back to the surface.

pairing: dad!jungkook x librarian!fem. reader  genre: friends to lovers, football au, angst, fluff, and smut rating: 18+  words: 17,152 warnings: jk is kind of coldhearted, mention of breakup, mention of cheating, mention of heartbreak, nervousness, guilt, physical and emotional pain, a tiny bit of jealousy, health issues, mention of drowning, epilepsy, mention of seizures, crying, drowning, description of a seizure, flirting, dirty talking, sexual tension, masturbation, phone sex, mention of sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, a bit of spanking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, doggy style, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, and mention of cockwarming author’s note: well, in the end, i still managed to finish this fic for this weekend 😬 most of the fic was already done sooo i’m proud that i could do it ✨ for the first time ever, i’ve put into words what it has been like to navigate life with epilepsy. of course oc has a different background, but in the end, whatever i have been feeling since i’m fourteen has been put there. in any case, i hope you enjoy it & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 🩵 thanks a lot for all your support 🩵 MASTERLIST

Jungkook grabs tightly the little hand of his five-year-old daughter, Hana, as they walk down the street. A couple of days ago, he promised her to buy some books in the little shop that her teacher advised. Apparently, she read a story that Hana adored, and she wants to have it at home. At least, she wants her dad to have it.

His eyes scan the street, hoping nobody will recognize him under his hat and sunglasses. He rose to fame when he became the hottest quarterback, something he didn’t really ask for, but as long as people leave his daughter alone, he absolutely gives no shit about this madness around him.

His eyes quickly look down at his baby before a smile grows on his face. Being her father is his biggest achievement and a role he absolutely adores. Being around her makes him extremely happy, and for a long time, it compensated for the fact that the relationship with her mother was a complete failure.

Jungkook met Miji, his ex-girlfriend and Hana’s mother, when he joined his current football team. They started dating quickly, but he knew he had never fallen in love with her. But he liked her. She was nice, funny, and caring. They stayed together for a solid six years.

Jungkook believed that he’d stay with her forever—yeah, even though he wasn’t in love with her. Hana joined them four years later, and her arrival made them extremely delighted. However, things began to change slowly when he gained fame. Miji wasn’t handling it very well.

For a while, he believed that she just needed time, but things got absolutely nasty. Living in the city was slowly suffocating her. People were jealous of her and were not being super nice to her. She wanted to move out, which they did. But it didn’t help. She clearly didn’t want to be in the relationship anymore.

Instead of leaving him and breaking up in a ‘correct’ way, she decided to cheat on him with her best friend. It was ugly, and Jungkook was hurt. He wasn’t really heartbroken, but it doesn’t erase the pain that cheating brings.

After the breakup, things got even messier. She kept the house; her best friend moved in, she asked for full custody of Hana, and for money because she couldn’t afford Hana’s upbringing. Jungkook didn’t give in. He refused to give her anything, and even less his daughter’s custody.

So now they share her custody, and he doesn’t give anything to Miji. The saddest part is that Hana hates being with her mother. She doesn’t like her new boyfriend and cries every time she has to go to her mother’s house. It devastates him, but he can’t do anything.   

As he pushes open the library’s door, he gently lets his little princess step inside first. He follows, closing softly the door behind them. The moment he sets foot inside, his heart stops beating for a second before pounding with a force he hasn’t felt in years. It’s like the world completely vanished around him. It feels like he’s seventeen again.  

You’re there.

You’re standing there, looking for a book on the shelves while you’re joyfully talking with someone else, completely unaware of him. The sound of your voice pulls him in before his eyes do. His gaze lingers, drinking you in.

You’re wearing a blue floral dress with a beautiful pair of grey sandals. A few silver rings catch the light. And then, his chest tightens. You’re still wearing the bracelet. The one he gave you before one of your big competitions, meant to be your lucky charm. Maybe it still is. Maybe it never was.

You haven’t seen him yet, too caught up in your conversation with the woman next to you. Deep down, he is grateful. He needs a moment to just look at you, to take in how much you’ve changed, and how much you haven’t.

“Daddy,” a small voice tugs him back.

He looks down. Hana is clutching his shorts, eyes wide and expectant.  

“Yes, boo,” he murmurs, forcing his eyes away from you. “Let’s go find that book.”  

She offers him the brightest smile on earth before they both walk inside. Jungkook removes his sunglasses before they begin walking together toward the kids’ section, his hand wrapped protectively around hers, but his heart is still pounding with every step that brings him closer to you.

As they walk, Jungkook keeps glancing in your direction. He’s not sure why his hands are clammy, or why his chest aches in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Maybe it’s because for a moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.

You’re still you. The same softness in your voice. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re thinking. And that bracelet. The one he bought for you in secret because he couldn’t find the courage to tell you how much you meant to him.

He never imagined you’d still be wearing it.

His fingers twitch at the memory of that day, handing it to you awkwardly, pretending it was nothing, just a good-luck charm. But it wasn’t. It was everything he didn’t dare to say out loud.

Then, you look up.

At first, you think that it’s just your imagination, but when you hear him talking to the little girl next to him, you know it’s him. For a second, you freeze. Your breath hitches. That jawline. That smile. That voice.

It can’t be.

But then he speaks again—soft, tender—and the warmth of recognition spreads through you like sunlight through glass. It’s him. It’s really him.

Jungkook.

Your heart lurches in your chest. Not just because he’s here, standing in your library like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world, but because he hasn’t changed. Or maybe he has, but the way you feel when you see him, that hasn’t. Not even a little.

He’s holding a little girl’s hand. His daughter, maybe? You swallow hard, unsure what to do with the storm of emotions building inside you: joy, fear, longing, and the familiar ache of everything you never said.

You don’t really listen to the woman next to you. She’s far gone now, and you don’t even feel sorry about it.

Jungkook is literally standing in your library and not in the billboard in front of the library, abs on full display for that Calvin Klein advert. Honestly, it was hard to see him every day for a month. It was a constant reminder of the massive crush you had on him at seventeen.  

Suddenly, he turns around, his eyes meeting yours.

At first, you think that he probably doesn’t recognize you, and you wouldn’t blame him for that. It’s been eleven years since you last saw each other. However, he starts walking in your direction, his hands pressed behind the little girl’s head, inviting her to follow him.

Your heart beats crazily inside your chest, wondering if he has, in fact, recognized you or if he’s going to ask for a book.

He stops in front of you, a smile spreading across his face before his sweet voice reaches your ears.

“Yn,” his honey-like voice says. “It’s been a long time.”

Honestly, you don’t really know what to reply to him. He still looks like he was handcrafted by god himself, but somehow, he got even better. His body has become even broader than before, which you didn’t think was possible.

Of course, you noticed it on the Calvin Klein ad, but seeing it in real life is completely different.

His shoulders have expanded in an impossible way, his arm is fully hidden behind tattoos, and his black t-shirt can’t even hide his toned chest. Well, for sure, being a quarterback is responsible for this change, but it’s incredible.

However, the one thing that hasn’t changed after all this time is his big doe eyes. They can still make you melt—as they also do with any other girl.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he adds.

Well, you too. And you never pictured your reunion in your own library. This was the last place on earth you’d imagine to find him. You can still remember how much he hated to read. He’d always ask you to summarize the books you needed to read at school.    

“Me neither,” you reply.

Your eyes drop down to the little girl standing beside him. She looks exactly like him. There’s no doubt she’s his daughter. It was no secret that he became a father long before fame hit. He always likes to bring it up in interviews. And according to most women, he is the hottest dilf to ever walk the face of the earth.   

And well, you couldn’t agree more with them.

Jungkook notices when you look down at his daughter. A smile grows on his face because he has always dreamt of introducing her to you. He always hoped that this day would happen.

“This is Hana, my daughter,” he says, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter. “And Hana, this is yn, an old friend.”

She stretches her small hand out towards you.

“Nice to meet you,” she says with a bright smile on her face.

You decide to drop down to her level. It startles you how much she takes after her father. It’s like you’re looking at a mini female version of Jungkook. It’s absolutely mind-blowing, but it only makes her even more adorable.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Hana,” you reply before hugging her.

Honestly, you always adored kids, and you’ve secretly dreamt of having children of your own. And whenever a child steps inside your library, you always take the time to interact with them—even sometimes, hugging them. Now, Hana is entitled to have a hug because she’s Jungkook’s daughter.

Her little arms wrap around your neck, and for a second, you close your eyes. Feeling her close to you helps to calm your nerves because having Jungkook right in front of you after all these years is quite something.

“You smell like coconut,��� she whispers in your ear.

“It’s my shampoo’s scent,” you whisper back to her.

“It smells good,” she adds, and you can help but smile even more.

Jungkook watches the scene unfold in front of his eyes, his heart heavy with unspoken emotions. This right here makes him melt like never before. He has never seen anything this emotional, despite experiencing many emotions in his life.

You step back, putting an end to this heartfelt embrace, and you stand up again. Then, your eyes meet Jungkook’s once more. There’s something in his gaze that you’ve never seen before, and it surprises you, but you decide not to focus on that.

“I imagine you were looking for a book,” you say, your eyes looking down at Hana.

“Yes,” she happily says before clapping her hands with excitement.

“Her teacher talked about your library, and she bought Hana’s favorite book here,” Jungkook begins to explain. “So, here we are.”

The three of you walk to the kids’ section like it’s the most natural thing when you’re both dying on the inside. This right here feels absolutely unreal, but somehow, it feels good.

Thankfully, you have Hana’s book in store, and you even recommend some other books to her. Jungkook buys them all without even blinking. You can’t help but think that his daughter is spoiled, and it doesn’t surprise you. He definitely looks like a girl’s dad.

“Your number is still the same?” he asks after paying for all the books.

“No,” you shake your head while handing him the little bag containing the books.

You don’t really know what crosses your mind, but you write your phone number on a small sheet of paper. When you hand it to him, his huge hand touches yours, causing a hundred thousand fires to ignite in your hand. 

“Thanks,” he whispers. “And it was a pleasure to see you again.”

You simply nod, your heart beating crazily in your chest. You don’t know how you managed to act normally around your high school crush, but you’re proud you did it.

And now, you’re dying to see him again.

Jungkook is waiting for you at a small café just around the corner from your library. Just a few hours after your unexpected reunion, he had texted you, asking if you’d like to meet again. You had said yes, of course you had. But with his tightly packed schedule, this meeting couldn’t happen until a week later.

You’ve been thinking about it every day since.

As you step into the café, the scent of coffee and warm pastries wraps around you like a hug. Your eyes quickly scan the room, heart fluttering. Then you see him—tucked into a quiet corner near the back, just far enough from the window to keep a low profile.

When your eyes meet, a smile forms on both your faces at the same time—automatic, familiar, like no years have passed at all.

You walk toward him, trying not to overthink each step, but your mind is spinning. He looks effortlessly good—a fitted black Supreme shirt, dark jeans, just the right amount of stubble. On the table, there’s a pair of sunglasses and the same cap he wore at the library. You realize immediately that he still tries to move unnoticed, even now.

There’s something strangely grounding about that.

As you reach the table, your nerves catch up with you. You pause for a beat, standing there awkwardly with a crooked, uncertain smile. Should you hug him? Shake his hand? Say something clever?

But before you can fumble your way into a worse moment, you pull out the chair and sit down.

“Hey,” he says, his voice deep, low—somehow both relaxed and nervous.

“Hey,” you echo, the word coming out softer than you expected.

For a brief moment, there’s silence between you. But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s full, charged with something unspoken, like both of you are quietly remembering the same things.

“You opened your dream library,” he says finally, breaking the quiet.

You nod. “It wasn’t easy… but I worked hard for it.”

He smiles, eyes warm. He’s always known how determined you were. Always admired it.

“I can imagine it,” he says. “The place was beautiful. Hana couldn’t stop talking about it for days. I think she told every kid in her class.”

You laugh—genuinely, this time—and feel your smile stretch wider, more naturally than it has in a while.

“I’m glad she liked it,” you say. “She was really sweet.”

Jungkook nods slowly, his expression thoughtful, like he wants to say something more but is carefully choosing his words.

“She truly is,” he says while thinking about his little girl.

Before you even get to reply, the waiter appears at your table, his eyes lingering a little too long on Jungkook. He recognizes him, you’re absolutely sure about it, but the quarterback acts like it’s nothing.

“Have you already chosen what you’d like to take?” he asks, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You come regularly to this place, so you already know what you want. It’s up to Jungkook. As he looks at you, he understands that you’re kind of asking if he has chosen.

“Yeah,” he nods.

You both proceed to make your order, and the waiter disappears, leaving you alone again.

“How can you deal with people recognizing you?” you ask with evident surprise in your voice.

Jungkook shrugs before leaning back slightly. He watches you for a moment—not in a way that makes you feel self-conscious, but like he’s memorizing everything about this moment. Maybe even trying to figure out where to start.

“I’m used to it,” he honestly replies. “It’s like that all the time.”

He seems so unfazed about it, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. But you realize that it’s normal for him. It just isn’t for you. Maybe if you were in his shoes, it would also be just normal.

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

“At first, it did,” he replies, “especially since Hana was still a baby, but now, it doesn’t anymore.”

You glance down at the table, brushing your thumb over the edge of your napkin because you feel the need to occupy your fingers.

“I still get nervous if someone compliments my handwriting,” you chuckle. “I can’t imagine people knowing my face.”

A little laugh escapes his lips, and damn, you missed this. You absolutely missed everything about him, and you can’t only blame yourself for this. It’s your fault if you went eleven years without seeing each other.

“If things had gone differently, people might have known you, too.”

“Yep,” you simply nod.

Your true dream was to become a swimmer, like a professional one. You still remember perfectly when it began. Your parents, who are big fans of sports, brought you to the 2008 Olympic Games in China to watch the swimming competition. You were still young at that time, barely entering your first teenage years, but you instantly fell in love with it. 

Back home, you decided to learn it, and very quickly, it became a passion. As you grew up, you worked hard to become a professional athlete and hopefully make it to the Olympic Games one day.

But life had other plans, and they crushed you in a way you can’t even explain. Even today, it hurts to think that you’ll never be able to make it to the Olympic Games. You’ll only ever be a spectator.

“But let’s not talk about it,” you tell him. “It’s in the past.”

Jungkook simply nods, understanding that it still might be a sensitive topic for you. Even for him, it’s such a traumatic memory, so he can’t even imagine how it is for you.

“I’m happy you still managed to open the library you always wanted,” he says with a little smile.

“Thanks,” you reply. “After everything, I guess a part of me needed to prove I could still make something good out of my life. Something that mattered.”

He nods, his gaze softening.

“You always knew what you wanted. I envied that, back then.”

You smile faintly.

“You were too busy being the golden boy to envy anyone.”

Jungkook chuckles at that—low and genuine.

“God, I hated that nickname.”

“Everyone adored you,” you tease, but your voice carries a bit more weight than you’d intended.

The waiter arrives just then with your orders. You both ordered tea, a reminder of the old times. You always enjoyed a good cup of tea together. On top of that, you also took a piece of banana bread.

“So now you’re a dad,” your sentence sounds more like a question than an affirmation, but it’s far from being a question.

“Yep,” he exhales slowly. “Hana changed everything. But in a good way. She saved me from going off the rails, honestly. Gave me something to hold onto when everything else felt loud.”

You nod, watching him, and feeling something inside you stir—a strange mix of admiration and quiet sadness. He’s not just the boy you knew anymore. He’s a man. A father. Still kind, still thoughtful, but heavier now, like he’s carried more than he lets on.

“I’m very happy for you, Guk,” you genuinely say.

Jungkook has it all now, even all the girls in the world. It’s no secret that he dates models or singers, or even actresses. Whenever there are big events, he’s always posing on the red carpet with a new one. Most of the time, you feel absolutely jealous of them. You wished you were the one holding his arm while posing for the cameras.

“You seem to have it all now, and you deserve it,” you add.

He chuckles softly, but you feel like there’s no real humor in it. His fingers tap lightly against his teacup before taking a sip.

 “Yeah, looks like it,” he says with his eyes fixed on the table.

You tilt your head, understanding that he’s not convinced at all by his words.

“I’m doing what I like, so yeah, I have what I always wanted,” he continues, his eyes now shifting up to meet your gaze. “And I have Hana too, but…”

He completely halts, uncertain if he needs to continue and confess to you that he never found love because no girl could ever compare to you. He breaks up with them when he realizes that they can’t give him what you could. Despite what many people think, he has never slept with them. The last person he ever shared an intimate moment with was Miji, Hana’s mother.

It’s stupid because the chances of meeting you again were very low. He could try to find love, but how could he forget his first love? How could he ever forget the first girl he ever loved?

Jungkook never stopped loving you, and he will never. He doesn’t want it.

And somehow, he doesn’t need to say it for you to understand that he’s missing love in his life.

“Not love,” you finish his sentence.

Jungkook simply nods, almost ashamed that you figured it out.

“That’s not how it looks,” you chuckle a bit. “You always have a new woman in your arms.”

He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

“They don’t mean anything.”

In a weird way, his words comfort you. It’s like some hope bloomed in your chest.

“Not nice to say that,” you reply. “Especially since they are all very pretty and very well-known.”

Jungkook takes a moment before replying to you. He just shrugs.

“I don’t care,” he finally says.

It definitely baffles you that such a handsome and good-looking man doesn’t care at all about the women he’s associated with. And most importantly, from what you remember, he wasn’t like that. Or at least, not with you.

“They don’t have what I’m looking for,” he confesses. “And most of the time, they don’t like Hana.”

That is an absolute lie. They all adore Hana, and they adore even more to see him interact with her, but he doesn’t want to sound like an absolute jerk. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s a cold-hearted person.

“Who wouldn’t like her?” you say with surprise. “She’s absolutely adorable!”

“I know,” he smiles with pride swelling in his chest.

You take a bite of the banana bread. You absolutely adore it. The way they do it in this café is mind-blowing. You’ve already begged the owner to tell you her secret, but she refuses.

“This is my favorite banana bread,” you confess with your mouth full.

A smile stretches across his handsome face, and it feels like you’ve been brought back to when you were seventeen and taking lunch breaks together.

Jungkook also takes a bite, and he has to confess that it’s pretty good.

“It’s not bad,” he says.

“Not bad?” you say, widening your eyes. “It’s fucking delicious!”

He chuckles at your reaction. He can’t help but find you extremely adorable. Even though eleven years have gone by, you’re still the same. You haven’t changed a bit.

“I’m kidding,” he replies. “It’s super good. Might be coming back for more.”

After that, you keep talking about random stuff and remembering good old times. Even though things have changed, everything still feels the same. The way your heart beats around each other. The way you smile at each other’s silly jokes. Or the warmth wrapping around you when you’re together.

Despite everything, the love you feel for each other hasn’t changed a bit.

For the past ten days, you’ve been texting nonstop with Jungkook. It has freed thousands of butterflies inside your stomach, especially when it seems that he’s flirting with you.

Obviously, you push that thought away the second it pops in your head because you’re absolutely sure that he doesn’t see you as more than a friend. It has always been only friendship between you two.

At least, that’s what you believe.

jk: how’s your day going?

you: too many clients today 😫 drained all my energy.

At some point, you thought you wouldn’t be able to follow up on how full your library was. Your library has been growing a lot. It was supposed to be a little and quiet one, but it hasn’t been the case lately. You’re unsure why, but somehow, you’re grateful it’s working even better than you imagined it.

jk: you should hire someone to help

you: maybe but it would cost a lot, and i don’t have the funds yet

jk: i could help if you need

You would gladly accept his help, but you want to do this all by yourself. You don’t want him to invest in your library. You’ll feel like you owe him money, and you don’t want that. You already have a bank loan, and it’s more than enough.

you: i can’t accept it, guk

jk: why not? 🤔

He might be super wealthy, and it probably means nothing to him, but it’ll mean everything to you. And you don’t want that.

You’re lying in your bed, stomach pressed on your mattress as you think of an answer. You’re not sure what to say.

jk: i’ve the means to help you out

you: you should keep your money

jk: i’ve too much

You roll your eyes. Of course, he has. That doesn’t surprise you.

you: i still won’t accept it. keep it to yourself, i’ll manage to find a solution. don’t worry about me and my library

You see the little dots appearing before disappearing and reappearing, and then, his answer pops out.

jk: i’ll always worry about you 🥺

Your heart skips a beat, and your cheeks flush with warmth.

Why does it still affect you like this—the way he says things so simply, like he means every word?

you: you shouldn’t

jk: of course, i should

His reply makes your heart flutter—as if it remembers something your mind keeps trying to forget.

jk: you’re pushing yourself too hard again. and you know you’re not supposed to. i just don’t want to see you burn out.

His concern softens something in your chest. He’s not wrong, and you know it, but right now, your mind is consumed by one thing: the library’s finances.

you: i know. but i can’t accept your money, guk. i need to do this on my own.

You stare at your message for a moment after sending it. And just as you’re trying to quiet the ache in your chest, your phone buzzes, his name lighting up the screen.

He’s calling you.

Your heart skips a beat. Then it starts to race.

“Yn,” he says when you pick up.

You can perfectly hear the concern in his voice.

“Guk,” you reply.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he instantly says. “I’m—”

“You don’t understand,” you cut him off.

“Then explain me.”

You take a deep breath, thinking about how to formulate your thoughts.

“I want…” you close your eyes, flashes of the past coming out. “I want to do something by myself because I didn’t succeed in becoming a swimmer.”

For a brief moment, he doesn’t say anything. You know he’s thinking about what to say because, yeah, this is more than a sensitive subject, and since he has been back in your life, you’ve been reflecting and thinking more about everything. It’s like he’s a reminder of your failure.

“It’s not your fault, yn,” his voice is super soft. “None of this is your fault.”

“It is,” you answer, trying to keep yourself steady as your throat tightens and tears threaten to fall. “I couldn’t handle my health. I couldn’t save myself from drowning.”

His answer is immediate and firm.

“There was nothing you could’ve done, yn,” he says softly.

“You were sick. You are sick. And none of it is your fault.”

He pauses, like he’s choosing every word carefully.

“You didn’t fail. Your body just… gave out on you. That’s not a weakness. That’s not something you could’ve fixed.”

You’re not really convinced. He can’t understand how devastating it is to suddenly learn that you won’t ever be able to become a professional swimmer.

He can’t understand how much it hurts every day to see that scar on your chest because it constantly brings you back to the day you had a seizure and almost died. He doesn’t know how painful it is to hear the doctor tell you that you have epilepsy.

“You can’t understand,” you snap back. “You became a quarterback like you always dreamed of. I had to give up absolutely everything.”

You hear a small silence before he replies.

“Open the door,” his tone is firm.

“What?” you frown.

“Just open the door.”

The doorbell echoes in your apartment before Jungkook puts an end to the call. You see him in the intercom. How and when did he arrive here? You open the door to him, and when he enters your apartment, you instantly notice the swamped hair, the sweat on his face, and the way his t-shirt sticks to his chest.

“How—”

“I was running, and I wasn’t far from your place,” he simply replies.

Lie. He was indeed running, but he wasn’t close to your place, so he walked because he couldn’t let you say all this nonsense.

“You didn’t need…”

“Of course I needed,” he says before you can even finish your sentence.

You take a deep breath, your gaze locked in his. Jungkook doesn’t look away; he actually takes a step closer. His strong cologne instantly invades all your senses, and your brain only focuses on that.

“Maybe I can’t understand what you feel,” he begins. “I managed to follow my dream, and my health is great, but you can explain it to me. You can make me understand without saying shit about yourself.”

His breathing is now heavy, and somehow, he seems infuriated. It almost sounds like you disrespected him.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” he continues. “You almost died, but you still managed to make it through. You opened your library despite all the health complications that epilepsy brings.”

You close your eyes, trying to hold back your tears.

“Yes, you gave up on your dream, but you’re here, which to me is more important than anything else. We both know how hard the first months were after your first seizure,” he shakes his head. “I saw every single seizure you did after, completely powerlessly. I was dying on the inside when you were crying after each seizure, blaming yourself more and more about how you couldn’t control your disease.”

It’s hard to remember those days clearly—not because they weren’t painful, but because your mind was too fogged to hold onto anything. You were barely functioning, caught in a cycle of seizure after seizure, your body aching like you’d been hit by something massive—a truck, a plane.

But worse than the muscle pain, worse than the exhaustion, was your brain.

It felt like it had been electrocuted inside your skull. Everything was hazy, heavy, like trying to think through thick glass underwater. You couldn’t focus. Even simple thoughts scattered before you could hold onto them. You also barely remember what happened, but your body didn’t.

Your body didn’t forget this kind of pain. It actually was traumatic. It still is.

And the worst part? No one could see that pain.

Unless someone’s lived with epilepsy, they’ll never really understand how it rips through your mind as much as your body.

Tears start streaming down your face, and Jungkook grabs you, holding you tightly in his embrace. You don’t hold back anymore, crying in his arms. They bring comfort, the same they did eleven years ago. And right now, you regret how you pushed him away.

As you were trying to hold yourself together in the middle of the seizures you were having, you pushed him away. It happened after he told you that he’d wait a year before going to uni to pursue his dream. He wanted to help you navigate this new journey, but you refused.

You couldn’t be the reason why he’d put his dream on hold. You’d feel guilty, so you did the most stupid thing and stopped talking to him. Didn’t answer his calls or messages. You’d always find an excuse to not let him in the hospital room. You hated yourself, but you thought he’d be better like that.

His fingers slowly and gently soothe your back, trying to comfort you as your tears soak the fabric of his shirt.

“Thanks for offering your help,” you whisper into the crook of his neck. “But I really can’t accept it,” you continue. “Let me just do it by myself.”

Jungkook simply holds you tighter, like he’s afraid that if he lets go, he’ll lose you over again. You can feel his breath slow against your shoulder, heavy with everything he’s not saying.

He really wants to help you, but he can’t force you to accept it. However, what he can do is be by your side now, be an emotional support, and make sure that you take care of yourself.

“Okay,” he says in defeat. “I won’t push, but don’t push me away either, yn. Not this time.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. It’s painful for the two of you to remember the time when you were putting as much distance as possible between you.

“Let me help you in the way you’ll let me. Just let me be by your side.”

You simply nod before holding him tight again in your arms.

“Plus, I’m sure Hana would be happy to spend more time in your library,” he chuckles.

A smile grows on your face as you remember his adorable daughter. He, for sure, did an amazing job of raising her. She’s just as equally charming as he is. Jungkook hasn’t spoken yet about her mother, probably because it’s a sensitive subject. In the end, their relationship didn’t work out, so it mustn’t be easy to speak about it.

Eleven years ago

Your heart is beating crazily in your chest as you stand on the diving board. Your eyes are focused on the water, your ears on the whistle, but your mind is ages away from here. It somehow feels like you’re completely high, while you know you haven’t touched anything.

You think that it could be tiredness, but for the past days, you’ve been sleeping eight hours at least per day. So, it shouldn’t be that. You actually ignore totally why you feel like that. However, one thing is certain: something is off.

But you push the thought away as you need to focus. This is a competition, the biggest one in swimming. You’re already proud to be here. You’ve worked so hard. And now, you just have to give your best.

You’re not hoping to win; some of the best swimmers are standing next to you, so you know you don’t stand a chance. Nonetheless, you still want to impress the jury. You’ll probably see them again in other competitions, and you want them to have a good souvenir of you.

Your parents and Jungkook are present. They always are. They have been incredibly supportive, and it always gives you so much strength when you know they are there. You almost feel invincible.

The starter blows the whistle, announcing the beginning of the competition.

All the swimmers throw themselves into the water, but as you do so, everything goes pitch black. It’s like you’re jumping into the void.

The second Jungkook realizes you’re not going to resurface, he runs to the swimming pool. Everybody around him is slowly understanding that you’re drowning, but by the time they do, Jungkook is already jumping into the water.

He might not be as fast as you, but man, seeing you dying gives him superpowers. He’s invincible now.

A red spot appears around you as it’s noticeable that you’re bleeding. Jungkook doesn’t let himself think; he just swims towards you. The other swimmers are also heading in your direction.

Your best friend catches you while you’re convulsing in his arms, and everybody around him helps him to get you out of the water. They place you in the safety lateral position. The medical staff approaches you all.

“Please take a step back,” one of them yells.

Jungkook does it without even blinking, but his heart is literally dying. He’s powerlessly watching you convulsing on the floor, drool dripping from your mouth, and your eyes rolling back. Your face is as pale as he has ever seen before, but what pains him the most is the blood running through your body. Your blue swimsuit is even turning into a violet shade.

He's trying to see where the blood is coming from, but it feels like it’s coming from everywhere. He knows that the injury is bad, more like really bad. There will be months of recovery from this. Maybe even more.

His eyes are glued to the scene playing in front of him. You’re clearly having a seizure, you were basically drowning, and you’re bleeding from everywhere. Never in his life has he ever felt like this. Powerless and in pain.

“What’s going on?” your mom screams when she calls for you.

“Ma’am,” one of the staff turns around to look at your mother. “Please stay back.”

“That’s my daughter,” her voice trembles as she says those words out loud.

“We need to give her some room,” he explains. “She’s having a seizure.”

The world under his feet opens and swallows him entirely. This is too heartbreaking.

“There’s nothing we can do right now, and it’s best we give her some space so she doesn’t get hurt.”

Your mother simply nods.

Then, you stop convulsing. Instantly, the medical staff checks for your heartbeat. Jungkook can see by the look on their faces that they are dead worried. Your heartbeat is faint. Too faint. For a terrifying second, he thinks he’s losing you.

But for the first time, he finally breathes when he sees you opening your eyes. Without thinking twice, he gets even closer, hoping to reach for you. However, he forces himself to stay back. They are the professional ones. They know what they’re doing. They are the ones who can help you.

You cough violently, water spilling past your lips, your body shaking weakly with the effort. He’s never heard a sound so awful at the same time.

“Yn,” a medical calls for you.

You don’t react at all. You just look into the void for a couple of seconds before falling asleep again. Jungkook’s heart sinks again. Are you dying?

It feels like a lifetime has happened since he jumped into the water, when in fact, it’s been maybe five minutes. Everybody is watching the medical staff taking care of you, hoping to hear some good news in the next seconds.

A minute later, you open your eyes again. You look around with confusion, but as the medical staff speaks to you, you focus on them and reply to their basic questions like ‘what’s your name?’, ‘what day is it?’, ‘what’s your birthday?’, ‘how old are you?’, and ‘where are we?’

Luckily, you manage to reply to all of the questions, which reassures everybody around you.

“My lungs hurt,” you then say. “A lot.”

And before they can even check you up, you’re having another seizure. Jungkook never thought it would be possible to be this devastated. The pain in his heart is something he has never experienced, and it’s not because you rejected him.

It just looks like you’re dying.

The rest blurs together in a haze of sirens and hands lifting you onto a stretcher. The paramedics work quickly, voices sharp with urgency, and before Jungkook can even process it, you’re being rushed to the hospital.

Hours later, the verdict comes: surgery. You’d perforated a lung, water filling where it should never have been. They think you struck something under the surface when you went under. The thought of how close he came to losing you will haunt Jungkook forever.

The following months are nothing short of hell. You’re alive, yes, but barely holding on—your body a battleground of seizures and relentless pain. Nights blur into days filled with monitors beeping, the metallic tang of hospitals, and your quiet sobs muffled against a pillow. Every time you remember you’ll never swim professionally again, the grief rips fresh through you. You cry until there’s nothing left, until anger becomes easier than despair.

And so you push everyone away. Coaches. Friends. Even Jungkook. Especially Jungkook. He keeps trying—showing up, sitting by your bedside, waiting for you to let him in. But every time, your walls are higher, your words sharper, designed to wound because the pain inside you needs somewhere to go.

When it’s time for him to leave for university, Jungkook makes one last attempt. He stands outside your room for a long time, heart pounding, rehearsing the words he’s wanted to tell you for years. But the moment he steps in, the air is heavy with bitterness, and your voice—cold, harsh, nothing like the girl he loves—cuts through him.

He swallows his confession, tucks it away where you’ll never hear it, and walks out instead.

It’s the one decision that will brand itself into him forever—the moment he let fear and heartbreak silence him. The moment he let you go.

The stadium is still humming with leftover energy—a low, electric buzz from the roaring crowd, the echo of the final whistle still hanging in the night air. Fans are filing out slowly, waving flags and shouting chants, while reporters swarm the edge of the field, barking questions into microphones, cameras flashing like tiny bursts of lightning.

But Jungkook doesn’t hear any of it.

He hears her.

“Daddy!”

The moment her voice cuts through the noise, his helmeted head turns, scanning the crowd until he finds her—right where she always waits, behind the security rope near the tunnel. She’s bouncing on her toes, arms waving like she’s trying to flag down an airplane.

She’s wearing his team’s hoodie, three sizes too big, practically swallowing her whole. The sleeves flop past her fingers, the hem brushing her knees. Her cheeks are flushed pink from excitement, and her dark curls are flying in every direction, messy from jumping and cheering.

But that smile hits him like a punch straight to the heart. Pure joy, all for him. Nothing else matters.

He jogs over without even unstrapping his helmet, weaving past the cameras and security. His cleats thud against the turf, the adrenaline of the game still buzzing through his limbs, but everything slows when he reaches her.

He bends down and scoops her into his arms in one fluid motion, lifting her like she weighs nothing.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

She squeals as he spins her once, her giggle ringing out over the chaos. He presses a kiss to her temple through her curls, and her tiny arms squeeze tightly around his neck.

“You were so fast!” she exclaims, beaming.

He chuckles, finally catching his breath.

“Only because I knew you were watching.”

And for a few precious seconds, with his daughter in his arms and the world blurring behind them, Jungkook doesn’t feel like the most famous quarterback in the country. He just feels like her dad.

Right next to them stands his mother, fondly watching this scene. When it’s his week and he has a game, his mother comes with her. It is a grandma and granddaughter time before he joins them after the game.

This right here is the only medicine he needs.

But for a moment, his mind drifts to you, and he wishes you were here.   

“How’d I do?” he grins.

She squints dramatically, pretending to think.

“Mmm... six out of ten.”

He seems offended by her answer.

“Six?! I threw two touchdowns and didn’t get sacked once!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t wave at me when they showed you on the big screen.”

Jungkook groans, exaggerated, but it doesn’t surprise him. She always complains when he doesn’t wave at her after he scores.

“I knew I forgot something important.”

She giggles, tugging at his chin strap like she’s inspecting him. Her hands seem so small as she touches it.  

“You’re sweaty.”

Now, he’s the one giggling. Well, it’s more than normal to be sweating after an hour of intense game, otherwise it would have been surprising.

“That’s what greatness smells like,” he replies, his eyes glued to his little girl.

She makes a face, but even like that, he finds her absolutely adorable.

“Greatness smells gross.”

He laughs and sets her down gently before he fully removes his helmet. She immediately reaches for the towel slung over his shoulder and starts wiping at his face, way too seriously for someone who still mixes up her left and right shoes.

“Let me fix you,” she says with a frown of concentration. “You’re all crooked.”

Jungkook kneels so she can straighten his jersey collar, then lightly bops his nose.

His eyes quickly look up at his mother. She’s fondly looking at them, and he offers her a bright smile. Even though he adores having his daughter here, he also always looks forward to seeing her. She’s always been there, long before Hana came into the picture.

“There,” she announces, his eyes drifting back to her. “Superpowers back on.”

He just stares at her for a second, a stupid grin softening his entire face. He’s so weak around her, but he’s also the happiest dad. Everything feels a lot better when she’s near him.

“You know,” he says quietly, “scoring in front of thousands of people doesn’t feel half as good as seeing you right after.”

She beams, rocking on her heels.

“Even if I only give you six out of ten?”

“Even then.”

He grabs her hand and stands up, lacing their fingers together. They walk closer to his mom.

“Wanna go get ice cream? My treat. For surviving another one of Daddy’s games.”

“Only if I get to pick the music in the car.”

“Even if it’s that same song twenty times in a row?”

She nods, and he still asks his mother if she wants to join, but it’s not really a question. Even if she says ‘no’, he’ll bring her along. There’s no way he’s leaving her out when she always takes care of Hana while he plays.

As they walk away, the noise of the crowd fades. Because for Jungkook, the real win is always waiting at the end of the tunnel—hoodie too big, judgment sharp, and love unconditional.

After getting the ice cream, Jungkook drives his mother back home. She’s sitting next to him, in the passenger’s seat. Hana’s booster seat is buckled in the back, her sneakers swinging just above the floor. She had a fancy ice cream. That’s how she calls a chocolate with rainbow sprinkles ice cream.

Her music of choice is playing in the car: a sparkly pop song she knows every word to.

Jungkook drives with one hand on the wheel, the other drumming lightly to the beat. He glances in the rearview mirror and smiles as she sings along, slightly off-key, but with full commitment.

His mother also knows all the lyrics—she also gets to hear it on repeat whenever her granddaughter is around. The three of them happily sing along.

“You know the entire setlist better than me,” he teases Hana.

“That’s because you’re always listening to boring adult songs.”

“Hey,” he laughs, “Queen is not boring.”

“It sounds like something grandpas listen to.”

She goes quiet for a moment, staring out the window. The lights of the stadium are still visible behind them, glowing against the night sky.

“You looked really cool today,” she says suddenly. “When you ran and threw that ball. Everyone cheered.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens just slightly—not from pride, but from how small her voice sounds when she says it.

“Thanks, baby,” he says softly.

Another pause.

“But you’re still my dad first, right?”

That gets him. He glances at her again in the mirror—her face half-lit by passing streetlights, her eyebrows pulled together just a little.

“Always,” he says, his voice low and certain. “Before the game, during the game, after the game. Every second.”

She looks satisfied with that answer and goes silent once more. Jungkook then discusses with his mother about the game and what she did with Hana while watching the game.

It’s more than evident to him how proud his mother is, and although he’s a dad now, he’ll forever do anything to make his mother proud.

“Can we get pancakes tomorrow?” Hana suddenly asks.

“You just had ice cream,” Jungkook instantly says.

“Yeah, but that was for after the game. Pancakes are for the next morning. It’s tradition.”

Jungkook grins, shaking his head.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know,” she mumbles.

Both Jungkook and his mother laugh at her answer. She’s unbelievable.

A couple of minutes later, they reach his mother’s house. Hana almost starts crying when she leaves the car because she doesn’t want her grandma to go, but in the end, his mother promises to come tomorrow.

While he drives back to his place, she falls asleep in the back. A smile grows on his face when he sees her peacefully sleeping in the back.

This definitely was a good day for him.

At night, in his bed, as he’s falling asleep, his phone buzzes, notifying him that he just received a text message. By reflex, he grabs his phone, and a smile grows on his face when he sees your name.

you: i saw the game

Then a second message appears.

you: congrats for the victory 🥳

A strange but welcomed warmth wraps around him like a blanket, and it feels absolutely wonderful. Everything feels wonderful with you.

jk: thanks ☺️ it wasn’t an easy win

His heart burns for you. It always has. But now it burns differently. Slower. Deeper. Steadier.

Back then, it was all adrenaline, fleeting glances in crowded hallways, nerves before a text, the ache of wanting and never quite saying it. But now, it’s something else.

you: yeah, seems like it, but you smashed them all 👀

Jungkook hesitates for a long time. Does he tell how much he wanted to have you there? Does he not? What’s sure is that he definitely wanted you there.

jk: wished you were there, too

His heart is beating fast, too nervous about what he is going to say.

jk: like old times

Eleven years ago, you’d go to all his games. You’d never miss any of them, and he’d always look for you in the crowd. When he’d see you, his heart would skip a beat. However, any time he’d find you, you wouldn’t be looking at all at the game which sometimes would make him sad. But in the end, what mattered was your presence.

you: well hopefully next time i’m invited

He smiles because he’ll for sure invite you to the next game.

jk: then consider yourself invited for the next game

Tomorrow morning, he’ll grab a ticket for the next game. Hana will be with her mom by then, so she won’t be waiting by the tunnel, but maybe someone else will.

jk: try actually watching this one this time 😏

He smirks as he sends it, not expecting anything serious. But your reply comes quickly.

you: what!! i always watch 😤

He laughs under his breath. He’s not buying it.

jk: you just stared at the ground half the time & i saw you

you: excuse me i’m offended now

He can see your pouty face. Probably crossing your arms. Maybe rolling your eyes too.

jk: not as offended as i was in high school

He pauses for a second.

jk: you never looked at me when i played

His fingers hover for a second before he types again.

jk: but i didn’t care. you were there and that was enough

This part—that’s the honest part. The one he’s not sure he should’ve sent. He exhales, waiting.

you: i always supported you even when i pretended not to watch

His pulse quickens.

jk: pretended?

You don’t answer right away. He sits up straighter, eyes fixed on your typing bubble.

you: i was always watching, just… not when you looked at me

He tilts his head, lips twitching into a knowing smile.

jk: you got shy?

you: yes

jk: why?

That question hangs heavy. His heart kicks a little harder. He already knows. But still—

jk: we were best friends…

you: you were different on the field

jk: different how?

He already feels where this is going, but he wants to hear it. Needs to.

jk: hotter?

He winces a little. Did he go too far? But then—

you: yes

jk: and now?

He’s not sure if he wants to know the answer, and he closes his eyes when he hears the ping, notifying him that you answered.

The second he reads it, he swears that he will die in his bed.

you: still the case

Fuck, the girl he’s been having a crush on has been finding him hot all this time. And man, it makes him weak. Thank god that he’s in his bed because otherwise, his knees would have betrayed him.

Jungkook decides then to press on the little microphone to record a voice note.

“Fuck… yn—” he softly exhales. “You’ve no idea how fucking hot you are.”

Jungkook knows how to flirt. If there’s anything else other than football in which he excels, it’s flirting. All the girls he has been with, he seduced them before, even though nothing happened in the bedroom.

But here with you, it’s different. It’s not flirting. It’s admitting the raw truth. The truth is that he has been dreaming about you for years. His mind has been going crazy since the second his eyes landed on you. He can’t really pinpoint the moment he fell in love with you because it was happening slowly until he couldn’t think about anything other than you.

“You’re messing with my head right now,” he finishes.

He presses the bottom send and patiently waits for your answer. He was expecting a simple text message, but you surprised him by sending a voice note.

“Jungkook,” you whisper—or should he say, moan.

Fuck, you shouldn’t have sent that. Now he’s growing hard in his Calvin Klein boxers.

“Don’t say it just because I did,” you continue.

He rolls his eyes. This is so typical of you. You’re always scared that somebody might actually be into you. He still perfectly remembers how you were when Jin, another student, was flirting with you. You were convinced that he was doing it out of pity—when, truth being told, he was so down bad for you.

“I’m serious, yn,” he whispers with a deep voice. “You’re so fucking hot that I could come in my pants like a fucking teenager by simply looking at you.”

Jungkook feels so vulnerable right now, but he couldn’t care less. He’s finally confessing his feelings for you, and he wants to do it properly. He doesn’t want to half-confess.

He runs a hand through his hair, his breath shaky.

“God, I sound insane…” he mutters with a breathless laugh, “but I don’t care. I’ve wanted you for so long. I still do. It’s not just the way you look—it’s everything.”

His voice drops again. Slower. Rougher.

“The way you talk, the way you laugh, the way you look at me like I’m still that kid you knew… it drives me fucking crazy.”

He hesitates. Then adds, quieter:

“It always has.”

Then your answer comes quite quickly. His mind is going absolutely feral, and if you were here with him, he’s absolutely sure that it would end with you both in his bed going wild.

“I don’t know how you expect me to breathe after that,” your voice is shaky. “I’ve wanted to hear you say those things since I was 16, and now that you are…”

There’s a pause, your breathing is heavy, and your voice is obviously filled with lust and heat.

“I’ve never stopped wanting you, and it was never just physical,” you say, and for a moment, you seem to hesitate to continue. “But god… if you touched me right now, I’d probably melt.”

Jungkook’s hand is always going south, palming his hard cock.

“A part of me has always been yours, and I didn’t even realize how much,” you pause, your breathing heavier than before, “until you said my name like that.”

He knows he’s fucked. Way too fucked. There’s no way that after this, he’ll keep his hands to himself when he’s near you. Man, if he could, he’d already be on his way to your place to have you contorting with pleasure beneath him. 

“Fuck—,” his raspy voice murmurs. “If I didn’t need to wake up early tomorrow, I would be on my way to your place.”

He knows damn well that you can hear him palming himself, but he wants it. He wants you to know how much he craves you right now.

What he doesn’t expect, though, is your call. You don’t answer with a voice note. No, you’re actually calling him. And the second he picks up, he hears how desperate, needy, and fucked you are. He never thought he’d hear that one day.

“Jungkook—,” you moan when he picks up. “You can’t turn me on like that over the phone,” you’re having difficulty breathing.

And then, he hears it. The lewd sound of your arousal.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asks without answering you.

You hesitate for a second.

“Yes,” you honestly say. “You?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation. “I’ve been rock hard since you moaned my name.”

You softly moan at his words. Fuck, he won’t last long if you keep moaning like that when he hasn’t even touched you.

“Tell me how you’re doing it,” he says.

He can’t be with you right now, but he wants to imagine it. And he can only do that if you describe it.

“I’m rubbing my fingers between my folds.”

His cock throbs in his hand, his rhythm increasing while he closes his eyes. This pleasure is consuming him like never before.

“But it’s not enough,” you moan. “I need you, Guk.”

Oh damn, you can’t say it like that. You can’t beg him to be with you; he’s losing himself.

“Don’t beg, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I can’t be with you right now.”

Now, he’s cursing his job for being this intense. He doesn’t even know when he can be with you. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to see you before his next game, which is next week. But he can’t wait that long. Not after this call.

“Keep touching yourself,” he continues.

His mind is going crazy with all the things he wants to do to you, so he’s just going to say them out loud to give you a preview of what he’ll do to you.

 “When we’ll be together, I’ll kiss you like a starved man. I’ll take my time to taste those sweet lips of yours before going down to your jaw, then to your collarbone until I reach your perfect breasts.”

You whimper, his name falling from your lips for the thousandth time tonight.

“I’ll suck and lick your nipples while you moan my name like you’re doing right now. And just as you did seconds ago, you’ll be begging me to touch you,” he halts for a second, his breathing heavier than ever. “As the weak man that I am, I’ll give in and give you what you want.”

He has dreamed of this so many times. He has jerked himself off—as right now—to the thought of you moaning his name while he fucks you nice and slow.

“I’ll kiss your pussy before sucking and licking it like my life depended on it,” he exhales softly, his voice only getting deeper and deeper. “And once you’re dripping on my tongue, I’ll push my fingers inside you, showing you no mercy.”

Now, his ears only hear you moaning and the sound of your arousal. It’s the sweetest melody he has ever heard.

“Right after you orgasm, I’ll push my hard dick inside you to fuck you nice and slow.”

He can hear that you’re very close to your orgasm. And that only makes him closer to coming shamelessly on his hand. This time around, he won’t be coming because of his wild imagination. He’ll be coming to the sound of your voice.

“Fuck, Guk,” you moan.

“As the perfect baby girl that you are, you’ll take everything that I give you. You’ll be moaning out loud while I fuck you over and over again.”

Well, he can’t keep talking as he’s moaning too. And well, he absolutely doesn’t care. He just moans to the sound of your voice.

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him.

“Then come for me, sweetheart,” he barely manages to say. “Let me hear your pretty voice.”

And that’s it, you’re coming loudly, his name falling from your lips.

“Fuck,” he groans, “you sound so perfect.”

Right there and then, he ejaculates, deep groans leaving his lips. His hand goes still while he pushes his dick in it.

You're both breathing heavily, and none of you hangs up. You stay on the phone while recovering from this wild moment.

“Yn,” he whispers your name.

“Yes?” you reply.

“Next time I see you, I’ll fuck you for hours.”

“And I’ll let you do it.”

Now, Jungkook only wants to ruin you even though he hasn’t had sex in a very long time, and he probably doesn’t know how anymore. But man, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is hearing you moan his name over and over again.  

The past week has been intense—exhausting, chaotic, and honestly? Torturous. But in the best way.

The library’s been busier than ever, and it’s becoming painfully clear that you need to hire someone to help. But every night, without fail, you’ve been on the phone with Jungkook. The conversations have gotten… interesting, to say the least.

Ever since that night—the one where you basically confessed how you felt—things escalated. Fast. You’ve had phone sex. More than once. And let’s just say: no one’s ever made you come that hard without even laying a finger on you. His voice? Dangerous. His dirty talk? Absolutely filthy.

And today? It’s game day.

Which means you’ll finally see him. In person. And you’re excited—probably just as excited as Hana was when she visited your library for the first time.

But you’re also a little nervous. Because if his voice alone can undo you… there’s no telling what will happen when you’re alone with him.

You’ve finally reached your seat located in the VIP area. The area where only close friends and family are allowed. It’s a bit weird to be here, but somehow, it makes you feel important. Like really important.

Jungkook explained to you how to access the area, especially since it was your first time. You’ll also get the opportunity to walk to the tunnels before the game ends, so you can see him right when he leaves.

The VIP area is already buzzing when you arrive, eyes following you as you find your seat. For a second, you feel like an outsider—like you’ve stumbled into a world you don’t quite belong to. But honestly? You couldn’t care less. You’re here for Jungkook.

So you give a polite little smile to the curious stares. Some of these people are probably insanely famous. Or ridiculously important. Or maybe both. But you don’t know any of them.  

After a couple of minutes, the team bursts onto the field. The supporters instantly start clapping, screaming, and chanting. On TV, the noise already seemed huge, but in person, it seems electric. You can feel it in your bones.

Then, through all that chaos, Jungkook looks up. His eyes scan the stands until they lock on you. Just like he does when his daughter is present, he waves at you.

From an outsider's perspective, this would seem rather normal. But you know better. There’s nothing fatherly in the way he’s looking at you right now. It’s a slow burn—intense, direct, like he’s already undressing you in his head.

You try as much as possible to remain composed, but your pulse is racing. This right here makes it even clearer that after the game, things will get very heated between you.

And if this is how he looks at you in front of thousands of people, you can only imagine what’s coming after the last whistle.

Jungkook was a beast during the game. Nobody could stop him, not even a bit. He has scored more than usual, bringing his team to the victory. It was absolutely impressive, and it felt like old times. It felt like you were sixteen again, and Jungkook was a machine.

However, this time around, whenever he’d look at you, you wouldn’t look away. You’d look back at him with the same intensity.

Towards the end of the game, you’re almost panting because he’s looking hotter and hotter. Maybe, you can barely see him under the helmet, but you see enough.

“Jungkook is on fire,” someone says behind you. “Not sure why but I hope he keeps playing like that. We’ll win everything.” 

A smile grows on your face as you hear those people talking behind you about the man that has been making your heart beats for years.

As you used to before, you’re only watching him. You’re not even following the game. You don’t even know and realize what’s going on, but you’re certain of one thing: he’s leading the team to victory.

Every time he scores, he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face, winks and finally waves. Your cheeks heat at his attention, and you get all shy, but it definitely warms your heart. It means more than you can put into words.

As the game edges toward its final minutes, you slip out of the VIP section and make your way toward the tunnels. Jungkook had asked you to wait for him there just like his daughter and mother always do when they come to watch him play.

The fact that he wanted you in that spot, part of that circle, made something warm settle deep in your chest. You couldn’t have said ‘no’ even if you’d tried.

You walk in the tunnel, the roar of the crowd still echoing through the stadium. Every cheer vibrates through the concrete, the sound wrapping around you in waves. Out here, it feels different—contained, heavy with anticipation. Your hands clutch the strap of your bag as you’re holding it with your dear life, your pulse already picking up even though the game hasn’t officially ended.

After this entire week of teasing and steamy phone calls filled with moans, it feels unreal that you’re finally going to be standing in front of him. You’re finally going to be with him, and lord knows what will happen. But you can’t wait to see him.

From your spot, you can glimpse the edge of the field. The clock is winding down. The noise swells, then explodes into deafening celebration. The game is over. Jungkook’s team has won, and the full stadium is cheering their victory. You can’t be prouder.

And then—he’s there.

Jungkook steps into the tunnel, helmet dangling from his fingers, hair damp. His chest is still rising and falling with the aftershock of adrenaline, the black streaks under his eyes making his gaze even sharper. For a moment, he scans the space, searching. Searching for you.

When he finds you, everything about him shifts. His posture straightens. His steps quicken. His eyes—God, those eyes—are locked on you, unblinking, like nothing else exists.

“Yn,” he says as he’s closing the last few feet between you.

You smile at him while you’re simply looking at each other, the world completely disappearing around you. There’s only you and Jungkook. Nobody else.

After all these years, he finally knows about your feelings for him. It makes you feel absolutely vulnerable because he could break your heart. Nevertheless, it feels like a heavy weight has been taken off your shoulders.

But what truly warms your heart is the fact that those feelings have been reciprocated all these years. Jungkook has always loved you more than a friend, and that changes everything.

“Guk,” you say.

“I’m happy you came,” he says with heavy breathing.

The way his eyes linger on you feels like he’s memorizing your face, afraid it might vanish if he blinks.

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitch, almost a smile, but there’s too much emotion in his gaze for him to hide it behind something casual. His hand comes up slowly, hesitating for a second before cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb traces lightly along your skin, and you can feel his breath growing warmer as he leans closer.

It's absolutely clear what is about to happen, but it doesn’t frighten you. You’ve been dreaming of this since the moment you first met him. You’ve been dreaming of it since you’re sixteen so it’s definitely been a while.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his breathing caressing your lips.

You simply nod, knowing perfectly that your voice will betray you if you speak.

And then—his lips are on yours. It’s not tentative. It’s not a test. It’s a collision.

His mouth moves over yours with urgency, like he’s been starving and you’re the only thing that could ever satisfy him. You taste salt and heat, his breath still fast from the game.

Your fingers clutch the front of his jersey, feeling the damp fabric, the solid wall of muscle underneath. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you closer—tighter—until there’s no space left between you. You can feel the thud of his heartbeat against your chest, matching your own.

The world around you fades—no crowd, no team, no cameras. Just the muffled roar in the distance and the way he’s kissing you like he’s afraid to waste another second.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. His thumb brushes your cheek, slow and almost reverent. His lips are still so close you can feel the ghost of his breath as he murmurs, low and certain: “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s kissing you again.

This time it’s slower, deeper—less the urgency of a first taste, more the ache of finally getting to savor it. His hand slips into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as his mouth moves against yours, coaxing rather than claiming.

You melt into him, your palms sliding up over the broad plane of his shoulders. The world is still there—teammates jogging past, the faint metallic clatter of equipment—but you couldn’t care less.

He tilts his head just slightly, changing the angle, and the kiss deepens. A low sound rumbles in his chest—half sigh, half growl—and you feel it reverberate through you.

When he breaks away, his thumb brushes over your lower lip like he’s memorizing the shape of it. His gaze locks with yours, heat simmering there, and you know this isn’t just a kiss—it’s a line you’ve both finally crossed.

Somewhere, someone calls his name, but he doesn’t look away. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he murmurs. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Jungkook opens the door of his impressive apartment, but he doesn’t really give you the time to admire it. It’s crystal clear that he’s fucking desperate, and he only wants you to see his bedroom for now. Maybe later—or tomorrow— he’ll give you a little home tour.

Once inside his bedroom, he hungrily kisses you. His hands are everywhere on your body, worshipping every part of you. He’s touching what he’s been craving for a damn week, even more if he’s honest.

The kiss is intense, filled with hunger and passion. Somehow, it feels like you’ve been doing this for years when your first kiss only happened minutes ago. But damn, his lips are addictive. You could kiss them forever.

When he breaks the kiss, his lips get closer to your ear, whispering what his mind has been thinking of during the entire game.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you?”

You nod with no hesitation. There’s nothing else you’d want right now.

Your hands slide up his chest, greedy now, and your fingers trace the lines of his muscles under the shirt. He’s so bulky. You always knew it. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, but this time around, it feels different.

Your eyes are mesmerized by the way your fingers move along his chest, and Jungkook just takes in the view before him. He shivers at the contact of your hand on his body. It feels even better than in his wildest dreams.

“You look so pretty,” he says, voice low and teasing. “Got all dressed up for me?”

A smirk arises on his face while you look up at him. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. It takes you a couple of seconds to answer him.

Of course, you dressed up for him. You fucking knew what to expect after the game. You knew he’d ruin you after playing like a god on the field. But you wanted to impress him. To look good just for him. To look good before you have sex with him for the first time.

“Yes,” you finally say. “Black is your favorite color.”

When you first met him, he was constantly wearing black, which you found odd for someone so bright like him. So, one day you asked him why, and he simply said that it was his favorite color. And you never forgot it.

His heart flutters. He thought you’d forget it. That it was just a simple detail, but he’s starting to realize that you remembered every single detail just like he did.

“Fuck,” he swears before his lips find your neck.

His hands grip the back of your thighs and ass, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pulls you closer. The dress rides up shamelessly, bunching at your waist while he grinds against you—hard and getting harder.

Yes, he’s fucking desperate, and he doesn’t even hide it. He doesn’t want to. He wants you to see it. Feel it.

“I need this so bad, sweetheart,” he groans, rutting his hips against you. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

A chuckle leaves your lips, which causes him to tilt his head, looking up at you.

“I guess I can imagine,” you say, your hands cupping his cute cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming about this since I was sixteen.”

His eyes widen.

“Probably since the day we met.”

To say he’s surprised is an understatement. Yes, he’s been craving you with his entire soul since he was young, but probably like two or three months after meeting you.

“Do you remember that day?” you ask, your thumbs stroking the skin of his cheeks.

That simple touch comforts him in a way he can’t explain.

“How could I forget it?” he admits. “For sure, my chest didn’t forget how you hurt it.”

A smile grows on your face. His favorite smile.

“You were late for your swimming training, and I was warming up on the running track of our high school,” he says while he perfectly remembers that moment. One that shook his world completely. “You hit me so violently that we both fell on the floor.”

“And when you made sure I arrived safe and sound at my training, it’s when I fell in love with you,” you confess. “I had literally hurt you, but you didn’t care. And that meant a lot.”

Back then, Jungkook wasn’t yet the golden boy that he’d become. He was still training a lot to get better, but he was already a great player. His mind was only focused on improving. He’d train night and day. And then, after your embarrassing meeting, you trained together.

“And after that day, we’d run together every day,” he concludes.

It feels like it was a lifetime ago. So many things have happened since then, but one thing hasn’t changed. The way your heart burns for him.

One of his hands slides to your chest, his gaze locked on yours. His eyes watch the way you shiver under his touch. It’s the best feeling in the world. Without an ounce of hesitation, he pulls down the cleavage of your dress, revealing your red bra underneath.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Red looks good on you. Might be my new favorite color.”

Before he goes deeper, his gaze shifts up to you.

“Is sex safe with epilepsy?” he asks with concern. “Pleasure won’t be too overwhelming for you?”

His concern warms your heart. Your epilepsy is well under control now, so there’s nothing to worry about.

“No, everything will be fine, Guk,” you press a quick peck on his lips. “As long as you don’t push me to exhaustion and let me sleep after, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’ll be careful then,” he smirks. “I’ll let you sleep in between rounds, but I intend to go wild all night long.”

You shake your head with a bright smile on your face.

“You’re incredible,” you whisper before he intensely kisses you.

“I’ve been craving this all my life,” he murmurs, “and I intend to make it memorable.”

And then, he strips you out of your dress and unhooks your bra. He lets out a soft and filthy sound as he traces your nipples with his thumb. Then, he dips his head to suck at the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Guk,” you gasp.

Your mind keeps going to his hard cock pressed against your belly. He’s so fucking hard, and it’s turning you on incredibly. Your hand then slips between you two, pressing against the thick bulge in his pants and rubbing gently.

He hisses before his hands roam lower again, squeezing your ass harder this time. His eyes look down at you for a moment, appreciating the view before his hungry eyes.

“You’re so perfect,” he groans, his lips finding yours again for a filthy kiss. “So fucking perfect.”

And even though he regretted his entire life for not having confessed his feelings for you, he knows that this right here wouldn’t feel this great. All the longing is making this moment a hundred times better than if it had happened years ago.   

Jungkook pushes you against his pretty big bed, and you gasp as you feel it pressed against the back of your thighs. His hands are everywhere now as he kisses you again. The kiss is hard, messy, and full of tongue. His hand slips between your thighs and pushes them apart. His fingers drag up the heat between your legs, over the soaked fabric of your panties.  

“Fuck,” he breaths, pulling away. “You’re dripping.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a full week,” you admit.

As he did. The burning longing between you has been consuming you more and more as time goes by. Surviving this week with only phone sex was like training nonstop for days. It was nearly impossible.  

And somehow, you don’t really know how, you get bold.

“I’ve been thinking how it’d feel to have your dick in my hands,” you whisper in his ear. “How it’d feel against my tongue, and how I’d suck it.”

“Do as you dreamed, sweetheart,” he growls, low and dangerous.

You get down on your knees while Jungkook pushes his pants down. You look up, your heart hammering and your breath shaky.

Yes, it’s about to happen. You’re about to engage in sexual intercourse with the man of your dreams. You’re literally about to blow him off.

When he frees himself, your eyes widen.

Fuck.  

He’s thick and heavy, tip flushed and glistening, veins running the length like something carved out of marble. It should be a sin to possess such a cock.

“How?” you whisper.

He furrows his brows, not quite understanding your question.

“How did you contain this beast all this time?” you ask, eyes looking up to meet his.

He giggles as he wasn’t expecting this question.

“Don’t know,” he admits. “But it wasn’t easy when my mind would get lost on you.”

“Oh,” you simply say.  

You wrap one hand around him, trying to understand how much you can fit in your mouth, and honestly, you don’t know how.

“Tell me what your mind would think,” you say as you lean in and lick a stripe from the base to the tip, your tongue tracing the curve of a vein.

 The taste of him makes you moan. An honest and desperate sound that vibrates against him. He swears that he’ll come right now if you keep moaning like that.

“You’d be exactly like this,” he begins to say, his hand moving to your hair while his head falls back and his eyes close. “On your knees, your hand around my cock before you’d engulf it in your mouth.”

You wrap your lips around the head, following his words. 

“Fuck—,” he groans. “You’d suck it like a good girl.”

You gently suck the tip, swirling your tongue. Your hand strokes what your mouth can’t take yet, which honestly is already a lot. Jungkook doesn’t dare to look down because he doesn’t want to come yet. It’d make him look like a weak man while he clearly wants to impress you tonight, even though he doesn’t know how. He hasn’t done this in a while.

“Just like in my dreams, you look so fucking pretty,” he groans. “Mouth full of cock…”

You moan again, louder this time, as you take more. Well, Jungkook is absolutely sure right now that he won’t last long. You’re the death of him.

“You’d even choke on it because of how big it is,” he continues.

Spit drips from the corners of your mouth while you suck him harder and deeper. Your makeup is probably starting to look like a mess, but you don’t care. You’re enjoying having him inside your mouth, and you even let yourself choke on it.

Jungkook looks completely wrecked. His lips are parted, chest rising like he’s barely holding on. The fact that he hasn’t had sex in a long time and the fact that you’re sucking him off are making him extremely sensitive.

You don’t know how, but you suck him even harder, your hands gripping his thighs now, and your cheeks hollow with every movement of your head. Nobody has ever driven him this crazy. The pleasure is taking full control of his body.

“Sweetheart—” he mumbles.

You can feel him getting closer and closer to his release. It’s in the way his body tenses and his cock throbs inside your mouth, and you really want him to come inside you. You want to taste him. 

And just when he’s starting to tremble and your throat is getting used to it, he pulls you off with a wet and obscene pop.

“Don’t wanna come inside your mouth,” he admits. “At least not the first time.”

 You’re a bit sad, though, but now, you’re closer to having his dick inside you, which excites you more.

Jungkook kisses you like a starved man, then spins you around to bend you over the bed. His eyes instantly move down to your soaked panties. He pulls them aside and wastes no time in sliding two fingers into you.

You cry out, your fists holding the soft and silky bedsheets like your life depended on it.

“That’s it,” he mutters. “Let me open you up, sweetheart.”

He fucks you with his fingers, slow and deep, while watching you fall apart in front of him. Jungkook bends down, his chest pressed against your back, and his fingers never stop torturing you.

“You’re taking my fingers so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl.”

Before Jungkook, you didn’t know you were into dirty talking. You actually never imagined yourself enjoying it. At least, your exes would never talk during sex. But he takes the dirty talking to another level. He could have you come just with his deep voice murmuring the deepest filth in your ear.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out to remove your panties. He then removes the only remaining piece of clothing from his body. Now you’re both naked. You look over your shoulder and admire the man behind you.

He’s a literal god.

It seems impossible to be this hot, and at this precise moment, you feel lucky that, amongst all people, he chooses you. His eyes meet yours, and the softest smile appears on his face. He looks so adorable in the middle of this filthy and steamy moment.

“Put your knees on the bed,” he gently slaps your ass.

You nod before following his instructions. You press your chest against his bed while you push your ass in the air. His hands instantly stroke your ass cheek.

“Please stop me if you don’t feel right, okay?” he asks.

“I told you that it’s safe,” you repeat what you said minutes earlier.

“I know,” he replies. “But I just want to make sure.”

He sounds like a baby, and that couldn’t make you melt more. He’s simply adorable. That’s unfair!

“I’ll let you know in case something happens,” you reassure him.

You bury your face in the bedsheets while his eyes remain on your body. His hand caresses your back, moving down to your ass.

The position is filthy. Your knees are spread wide, your back arched, your ass up in the air, while his fingers are back to teasing your folds. Your heart is hammering in your chest, waiting patiently for him to push his monster inside you. You’re not really sure if you’ll be able to handle it, but you just want him to stretch you out. To make love to you.

“You’re so beautiful, yn,” he whispers more to himself than to you.

He gently removes his fingers before looking through the drawers of the nightstand next to his bed. A couple of days ago, he bought condoms to be ready for when the real deed with you would happen. But he can’t seem to find them.

 “Fuck, I can’t find the condoms,” he says with frustration.

You look behind you, watching him go a bit crazy as he searches for the condoms.

“It’s okay,” you softly reply. “I’m clean. I haven’t had sex for the past three years,” you explain.

Admitting that you haven’t been sexually active in so long makes you feel vulnerable, but you feel absolutely safe around him.

“I’m clean too,” he confesses. “Haven’t done anything in years.”

To say that you’re surprised is an understatement. How can Jungkook not have had sex in years? This man has been dating women over women for years now, and now, he’s telling you that he hasn’t done anything with them. That’s a shock.

“Really?”

He chuckles when he sees your surprised face.

“Yep,” he admits. “Nobody was ever worthy of my dick.”

Now, you’re the one chuckling. This sounds so like him.

“But we’re not going to talk about my lack of sexual activities for the past three years,” he adds as he steps closer to you, his body right behind you.  

“It’s for sure something we need to discuss after,” you reply.

He shakes his head with the biggest smile on his face. He’s not sure he really wants to discuss that with you, but if you bring the topic to the table, he’ll be honest with you. He’ll tell you just how much he couldn’t fuck anyone if it wasn’t you.

“Are you on the pill?” he then asks.

“No,” you answer. “There was no need if I were single.”

And also, it’s not really recommended to take the pill when you’re under an epileptic treatment. Well, your previous partners always used condoms, so you’ve never really discussed the pill with your gynecologist.  

“Right,” he nods. “So we will need to be careful.”

He rubs his shaft along your folds, coating himself with your arousal. Little moans leave your lips as you close your eyes, enjoying this sensation. He’s not teasing; he couldn’t do it. He’s simply preparing the two of you for what’s coming.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks.

“I’m absolutely sure, Jungkook,” you answer.

And then, he pushes into you in one smooth stroke. Your cry is instant, fingers clawing at the sheets as he bottoms out. The stretch is almost impossible. He’s massive. He feels massive. But fuck, it feels so good.

You haven’t had sex in three years. But god, you missed it. Your body was calling for it. And now, you have it with none other than Jungkook, the guy you had a crush on for more years than you can count.

“You’re so big,” you say.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you reply as you turn your head to look at him. “It feels so good.”

“Really?”

While this man is so good at dirty talking, he sounds so innocent right now. Like it’s the first time he’s having sex. Like he’s about to lose his virginity. But in fact, he has a daughter, so he’s definitely far from being a virgin.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, giving you both time to adjust. This all feels new to you two, and well, your walls are swallowing him in a way nobody ever did before. You’re so tight around him, which could make him come undone right now.

And then, slowly, he starts to thrust into you. At first, he goes slow and deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. Moans leave both your lips as pleasure consumes you both. This feels marvelous.   

“Yn,” he moans your name like a prayer. “You’re taking me so well.”

His praise causes pride to swell in your chest. Nobody ever said that to you. And honestly, it looks almost impossible to take him inside you, but you’re doing it. Like a good girl.

His thrusts slowly become more brutal, which makes you jolt forward, your breasts rubbing against the sheets with every bounce. The wet sounds between you are unforgivable, together with the loud moans leaving your lips.

“This is better than anything I imagined,” he mutters. “Wayyy better.”

Then, Jungkook starts to show no mercy to you. His thrusts are absolutely wild, deep, and brutal, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. It feels so fucking good. The sound of his creaking bed starts the echo in the room while you get further lost in the kingdom of pleasure.

“Look at you,” he growls, his voice breaking between thrusts. “Taking my cock like you were made for me.”

Your fingers twist in the sheets as a shiver runs through you, the filthy praise making you grow wetter.

“I’ve thought about this for years,” he confesses, low and rough in your ear. “But nothing—nothing—compares to feeling you like this.”

His hand slides to your hip, gripping hard before pushing your back against him.  

“You feel so fucking perfect. So tight. So warm. Like you never want to let me go.”

Your moan is answer enough, and his pace turns downright ruthless.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “Let me hear you. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,” he hisses, his hand wrapping around your throat.

Jungkook doesn’t tighten his grip; he just applies pressure on your throat. That alone makes you grow wetter, something that he feels as his dick pistons inside you. Your eyes roll back, the pleasure slowly becoming overwhelming.

“You like being choked,” he whispers in your ear. “Such a dirty girl.”

His words send shivers down your spine. This man has you literally wrapped around his fingers. He can make whatever he pleases with you.

“Luckily for you, I love dirty girls.”

He licks the inside of your ear, and god, you’re completely falling apart. But you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

You’re a complete moaning mess by now, only adding to the obscene symphony in the room—the creak of the bed, the wet slap of skin, the tangled chorus of your moans.

“So good,” you manage to say in between moans.

His eyes take a moment to look at you. Your body is trembling with every punishing thrust from behind, your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts, his hand is wrapped around your throat, and your back is pressed against his chest.

It’s a fucking sight he’ll burn into his memory.

His hand lets go of your throat, and you instantly fall forward. He slaps your ass, watching it jiggle. He goes deeper, his hips meeting your ass with a loud slap that echoes in the room.

Jungkook grips your hips tight and fucks you rough and fast now. He doesn’t show any mercy to you.    

“Fuck—” he whimpers. “Wanna cum inside you so bad.”

“Do it,” you reply without any hesitation.

You pregnant with his child… Damn, there’s nothing in the world he’d like more. The simple thought brings him closer to the edge.

Fuck, he wants to get you pregnant so badly. He wants to lie in his bed with you in his arms and dick deep inside you, cockwarming you to sleep. And just to be sure it took, he'd give it to you again and again until it did. And then he’d give you more. 

Until his balls were fully drained and the sheets beneath you soaked, a mix of both your juices sticky over your thighs and his belly, his cum leaking from your pounded out pussy.

The way you'd whimper when he'd gently finger it back inside you, scooping it up and massaging your clit with it, making you cry with overstimulation just to make you cum again with his seed-slicked fingers…

But he can’t.

Not right now.

“Not this time, baby girl,” he replies.

He’s driving into you so hard that it makes you see stars. The two of you are reaching your orgasm; you can feel it. Your legs are shaking, your moans completely out of control, while his thrusts are sloppy and deep.

Jungkook decides to help you out. One of his hands slowly goes down on your body, landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps slamming roughly inside you. 

His fingers on your clit make you explode intensely, and you come hard around him. Your walls squeeze him over and over again while you come all over him. Jungkook doesn’t stop at all; he even speeds up his torturing pace. The coil in his lower stomach tightens, and he knows it’s a matter of seconds before he comes undone.

So he takes his cock, leaving a feeling of emptiness inside you, before he strokes it above your ass. He groans when his orgasm hits him hard, your name rolling off his tongue. His eyes roll back with pleasure, and his body tenses up, his sperm now falling over your ass cheeks.

You both collapse on his bed with heavy breathing. Jungkook rests next to you while his hand strokes your back. After a couple of seconds, he stands up to disappear into the bathroom. He comes back with a towel.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” he says as he gently slaps your ass.

You whimper as he’s gently cleaning your legs and pussy. It feels good to be taken care of, especially from the guy you’ve had a crush on for years. Once he’s over with you, you turn around to look at him. A smile appears on his face when your eyes meet.

Your eyes flicker down to his hand that is cleaning his softened length with the towel. Flaccid, he almost looks ordinary—almost. But you know better. You’ve felt just how far from average he really is.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is low but edged with worry as his eyes search yours. He’s not asking out of politeness; he needs to know.

“Barely alive,” you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. But Jungkook doesn’t really smile. His brow stays furrowed, jaw tense, like he’s replaying every second in his head to check if he pushed you too far.

You rise onto shaky legs, your body deliciously sore, and step closer. Your fingers trace lightly over his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart under your touch.

“I’m really fine,” you whisper, softer now, wanting him to hear the truth in your voice. “This was… mind-blowing, yes. And sure, I might need a couple of days to recover from you…” you tease, lips curving. “But other than that, I feel good. I feel safe.”

His shoulders ease, just barely, but his gaze doesn’t waver from you. There’s still that flicker of fear in his eyes—that he might have hurt you, triggered something, missed a sign.

You cup his face gently. “Guk,” you murmur, “you could never hurt me. As I said before, everything is under control now.”

He simply nods before wrapping his strong arms around you. He’s definitely worried about you and probably will for a long time, but that’s only because he deeply loves you. He never wants to relive again the day he had to save you in the pool.

“Let me get us some water,” he whispers, his lips getting closer to yours to press the most gentle kiss.

As he leaves the room, you take a look around. His bedroom is impressive, like anything else about him, and surprisingly, it’s not devoid of decoration. Of course, he chose darker colors for the wall painting, but it feels like him. Being here is the same as being cuddled by him.

There are pictures of Hana everywhere. In some, she’s just days old. Some other, she’s a couple of months old. In some other, she’s already two. And there’s one on his nightstand. It’s your actual favorite. He’s holding her on his shoulders, and they have the brightest smiles.

“That picture was taken a year ago,” his voice comes from behind you, warm and low. “On her birthday.”

Jungkook steps closer, handing you the glass of water.

“Thanks,” you murmur, fingers brushing his as you take it and sip. “It’s a really good picture.”

He places his glass of water on the nightstand before his hands wrap around your waist, his head placed on your shoulder.

“It’s nice having you here,” he whispers.

You smile, but you don’t dare to look at him. You know you’ll fall even more for him, or worse, you’ll get on your knees.

“It’s nice to be here, too,” you reply.

Jungkook peppers your neck with kisses while you close your eyes, your hands wrapping tightly around the glass of water. As his kisses start to move to your jaw, little and barely audible moans leave your lips. Slowly, his bulge grows against your back. No doubt where this is going.

“Round 2?” he whispers against your jaw.

Things have completely changed since Jungkook came back into your life. Everything is lighter now, as if some invisible weight has been lifted off your chest.

You even stopped fighting him in the library. Eventually, you accepted his financial help, and now it’s thriving even more, which you didn’t think was possible. Every day, when you walk in and see more people, more laughter, more books in readers’ hands, you’re reminded that he didn’t just save the library—he saved a piece of you, too.

And it’s not just you who’s thriving. Since you’ve been back in his life, Jungkook’s been sharper, faster, hungrier on the field. The fans call it his best season yet, and every time he throws that perfect pass or crushes another record, he swears it’s because of you. He says you’re in his head before every snap—your smile, your laugh, the sound of your moans keeping him steady and reckless all at once.

But the real change happens at night. Behind closed doors, your world narrows to him—the rasp of his voice, the heat of his skin, the relentless way he claims you over and over again. Your bedrooms have become sanctuaries of fire and whispers, where moans echo against the walls, skin slaps in frantic rhythm, and headboards knock like desperate applause.

Sex has never been like this before. It’s not just good—it’s consuming. He doesn’t just fuck you; he ruins you, bends you until you’re trembling and begging, only to drag another orgasm out of you when you swore you had no more to give. He never seems to tire. Sometimes he teases you slow, murmuring filth against your ear until you’re dripping and desperate. Other times, he takes you like a man starved, pounding into you until you can’t think of anything but him.

And the craziest part? Every time, he makes you feel like this is the best he’s ever had. Like nothing else has ever compared. His praise is endless—you’re so fucking tight, yn… look at the mess you’re making for me… taking me so good, baby—and the more he talks, the hotter it gets.

Still, when it’s over, when your bodies are tangled together, slick with sweat and trembling, there’s a softness in the way he holds you that no words can match. The man who spends his days destroying defenses and his nights destroying you is the same man who pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head, and whispers like you’re his whole world. And that, more than anything, is why everything feels better now.

[infiresyg93]

“You need to find a place with better security, Mr Park.” Jungkook shoves his hands in his pant pockets. Leans against the door. Looks smug. Cocky. Has a right to be after all. “I’m disappointed. I expected something more.” 

You watch the way he talks with Jimin as if they’re friends who’s talking about last night's football game. On the other end of that one sided talk, Jimin looks like he’s about to faint. His face is pale. 

Your legs are trembling. You can’t even bring yourself to cry. What’s the point of crying, anyway. It all has come to this. How stupid of you to think your ridiculous plan would work. That you’d be able to make a fool of Jeon Jungkook.

Yet you find your lungs squeezing painfully in fear when Jungkook finally turns his gaze toward you. His stare cold and distant. No stars in his eyes, no longing in his gaze. “And you thought you could trust them, Pretty? After everything? You thought you’re going to run into your pathetic ex and your best friend and they’d shed happy tears to see you again?”

You suck in a sharp breath. His words hit you like a slap across your face. You don’t know about Jimin. Or Hoseok. But for certain you know about Daebi. 

“H-how?” You hear Jimin almost whisper to himself. You know he had being certain that you were not being followed. This may come as such a shock to him. Not to you. Jungkook never followed you. No. There was no need to do so when he knew what’s going to happen in detail. Every miniscule detail of your plan. He knew everything because of one person. Only one.

The earlier rage returns to you tenfolds harder. 

Daebi!

That bitch!

She has to ruin it over and over again hasn’t she? 

And you’ve had enough. 

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until you turn around and storm toward Daebi in the blink of an eye. You catch the woman so off guard she does nothing but stand there when your palm lands on her face out of nowhere. So hard and powerful that even you whimper in pain at the sting in your hand. 

You ignore that, though. The way Daebi’s head snaps to the side due to the powerful movement is so satisfying. The sound of your palm slapping against her flawless skin is otherworldly. But that’s not enough. Not considering the kind of hell she had made you go through. You don’t let her prepare for your next move when you grab her long hair. Yanks her head back with it. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you stupid bitch. I’m gonna ruin you.” You hiss through your gritted teeth while Daebi finally gets it together and starts to fight back. Not quite hitting you back but trying to escape your hold. 

“Fuck, lemme—” She starts just to howl in pain when you yanks her hair as hard as you can. You’re sure you can rip her hair off but before any of that you feel a pair of hands on you. 

“Fuck, what’s wrong with you?” You hear someone pants behind you. You thrash in the tight hold that keeps you grounded to escape and keep attacking Daebi— who’s trying to get her composure back. You must look like a mad cow. You don’t care. Daebi deserves to die. But the person who is holding you turns you around so easily. Your blood starts to boil under your skin to see that the person who stopped you is Hoseok. 

You try to escape his hold once again. Hoseok curses aloud. “Fucking hell, (___)!” He grabs your upper arms so tightly. “Stop it!” Shakes you as if to knock the words into your brain. 

Wrong move!

That’s all he gets to say and do. 

Even you gasp in surprise despite the fury inside you when Hoseok is dragged away from you. All you hear next is the painful crack of bones and the loud thud of the back of Hoseok’s head hitting the wall. 

“Get you fucking hands off her.” Jungkook barks. One of his hands on Hoseok’s throat, the other fisted and ready to blow another punch into Hoseok’s face. “I’ll fucking rip your arms and chop you into pieces you motherfucker.” Jungkook grits. His hold on Hoseok’s throat tightens and Hoseok’s face starts to turn red. He tries in vain to pry the hand on his neck. Right then Jungkook’s fist lands on his face again. 

Hoseok mewls in pain. But it does nothing to stop Jungkook. He drags his arm back and lands another painful punch.

Another crack. 

Another pained grunt. 

Another punch.

Blood starts to trickle down Hoseok’s nose first then quickly his face is just one mess of blood. Jungkook reduces him to a pulp within record time. Before any of you can even process what’s happening. Especially you. You just stand there. Horrified. Unable to move an inch, watching the godly face of your ex boyfriend turns unrecognizable. 

What snaps you out of your terrified haze is Daebi’s scream. It appears that she finally gains strength. She takes a hurried step forward. You don’t know what she’ll do anyway. It’s not like she'd be a match for Jungkook. Luckily for her, Jimin beats her to it. 

His face pale and eyes wide. Like it should be. A crazed man is killing his best friend with bare hands, after all. 

Jimin makes it to Jungkook faster than you think. He drags Jungkook back. Using Jungkook’s tshirt. You hear the sound of fabric tearing. To Jimin’s credit he manages to do it in one go. It frees Hoseok from Jungkook's death grip. He bends down, coughing and heaving for air. Blood uncontrollably falling down to the crisp floor of Jimin’s living room.

Jimin doesn’t let Jungkook prepare for what comes next before his fist flies to Jungkook’s chin. Forceful enough that Jungkook’s head snapped to the side. For a second it seems like Jimin got it under control. But what a delusional thought that is. In the next minute Jungkook dodges Jimin’s blows as if he’s a trained fighter. And that’s all it takes. One missed punch from Jimin and the control is back on Jungkook’s hand.

You yelp for the first time when Jungkoo hits Jimin across his face so hard that Jimin stumbles back. His attempts to keep his balance comes fruitless when Jungkook lands another punch. With that he lands on his back with a pained growl. 

You wonder what Jimin and Hoseok would say if they knew that this is the same kid they once beat into a bloody pulp on that cursed day. The kid who they nearly killed. The kid who laid there helpless. Well, they probably won’t believe you because this clearly isn’t that kid. 

No. That kid was dead. This is a new demon. 

And this demon is capable of more cruelty. 

And he’s angry. Not angry, he’s gone crazy. Completely. 

You know exactly what’s going inside Jungkook’s head. 

This is the same kid who lost it all because of Jimin that day. And he nearly lost it all again today because of him. 

He fucking did. If I have to make him suffer, I have all the reasons to do so.

You know what’s going to happen. Yet you do nothing but stare for another minute or so as Jungkook steps towards Jimin. His eyes are burning with anger. If a look could kill, Jimin would be dead so long ago. Jungkook walks up to him slowly. Too slowly for your liking. Like a predator about to charge on his prey. 

You keep watching. Watch and watch. Then Jungkook springs to action and you snap out of your haze. At the same time Jungkook grabs a white vase on a sideboard, you take a step. 

“No!” You scream which falls into deaf ears. Jungkook smashes the vase on the tabletop. Most of the shattered pieces clunk to the floor but one large piece with a sharp edge remains in his hand. You swear you do your best to sprint toward Jungkook and stop him. Apparently it’s not enough, though. 

You stop dead in your tracks when Jungkook lunges at Jimin who’s trying to get up. He pushes Jimin back into the floor with a hand clutching to Jimin’s shirt collar. You don’t know who screamed louder next. You or Jimin. Probably you because what Jimin lets out is a howl in pain as the broken piece of the vase pierced into his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” Jimin grits his teeth, trying to pry away the man on top of him despite the pain. Jungkook doesn’t even budge. He pulls the piece of ceramic away, making Jimin groan again. 

“It’s all because of you.” Jungkook’s mumble is hysterical. “If it weren’t for you, she would’ve been mine long ago. You fucking ruined it. And you had to ruin it now too? You fucking bastard!” He stabs Jimin’s shoulder again. This time a new spot. He pushes the sharp edge deeper into Jimin’s skin and flesh. Twists. The scream Jimin lets out is inhuman. You’ve only heard such an agonizing sound one time in your life. Jungkook pulls his makeshift weapon out. Shakes Jimin’s head by yanking him with his shirt. “You didn’t give a fuck about her all these time and now you want to play hero?” This time Jungkook doesn’t stab Jimin. Instead, he just pierce his skin slightly above his upper arm then starts dragging the pointed end down. Tearing Jimin’s clothing and his skin. 

Jimin’s back arches. He is covered in blood now. His white shirt is almost fully drenched in crimson. His face is the color of ash. 

“You wanted to take her away from me? I’d like to see you try, Park Jimin… I’d like to see you try.” Jungkook cuts Jimin’s arm from his shoulder to his elbow. Pulls the weapon up. Stabs again. And again. 

You don’t hear what else Jungkook says. 

He is going to kill Jimin.

Because of you.

You dragged him into this. 

The fact Jungkook is about to send him to the god is enough proof that Jimin isn’t a part of any of this. He’s an innocent, unfortunate soul that happened to get caught up in this mess.

Because of you. 

You need to do something. Something to save him. 

You let your body decide the next moves. It’s like you’re not living in this moment. Like you’re watching a movie. 

You let your legs carry you to the crazed man twisting his blood covered white piece of glass in one of Jimin’s wounds. You don’t know what Hosoek or Daebi is doing. Have no idea why Hoseok isn’t saving his friend. Maybe Hoseok has no energy. Or maybe he’s a coward. Or an asshole. 

Whatever the answer could be, you don’t even try to see where they are. You make a beeline to Jungkook. Fall to your knees. Then without even you knowing it, you’re doing your best to drag him away from Jimin. Cries after pathetic cries leave your mouth. 

“No, please stop it.” 

Jungkook doesn’t even look at you. 

“Please Jungkook.”

Nothing. Even Jimin's screams have turned into weak whimpers. 

“Jungkook, baby, please…”

That word always worked. Not now. 

It’s not working. No matter how hard you try or how hard you cry. 

You fall back to the floor. Body limp. Tears make your sight blurry. 

You have to do something.

You look around aimlessly. With no purpose. Catch a glimpse of Daebi tending to Hoseok. You pay no attention to them. Scan across the room. Until your eyes land on the remaining pieces of the shattered vase. 

You stare at them emptily for a millisecond before something clicks in your hazy mind. 

You have to do something.

You hurry to crawl across the room toward the broken pieces. Ignore your trembling hands as you pick up a piece big enough. 

You have to stop Jungkook. 

You need to stop this madness. 

The only way to do that is to take the cause of this madness away. 

You push the sharp edge of the ceramic piece to your neck. It feels rough on your skin. Certainly not suitable to hurt someone. You don’t know how Jungkook is doing it. Doesn’t matter. If he can, then you can too. Enough force will make the rough edge sink into your flesh. You press a little harder. It finally stings. 

“I’ll kill myself if you don’t stop!” That voice can’t be yours. It comes from a distance. It sounds too unfamiliar. “Jeon Jungkook! I’ll fucking kill myself.” Yet it’s your voice and the second time it comes even louder. 

And it works. 

Jungkook freezes midway. His head snaps to you. You visibly witness the way the madness in his eyes turns into panic in a flash. 

You don’t know what convinced him that you’d actually do it. Maybe it’s the look in your eyes. Or it’s his instincts. Because you’re going to do it. 

As the rough edge of the porcelain presses harder into your throat and the more it stings, you feel powerful. For the first time after years, you feel as if you have control. And even if it means your death, you’ll hold on to it. In the end, you no longer care. Everything has gone wrong anyway. What’s the point of keeping struggling anymore?

You keep your eyes on Jungkook. Threatening. A silent promise that you’ll do it. 

You can’t believe that you’ve never tried this method before. You know you’re Jungkook’s biggest weakness. You always knew that. Still you never tried anything this way. 

Jungkook won’t survive without you. 

That’d be too much pain. 

Jungkook raises to his feet slowly, finally abandoning the bleeding Jimin. You keep your ground. You want to look smug now that you have the control. You want to smile now that you’re the one who’s playing the game. But you’re doing neither. The only thing you’re doing is tearing up even more. Crying and hurting yourself. 

“Pretty…” Jungkook whispers breathlessly.

“Drop it.” You sob. 

Jungkook wastes no time. He drops the bloodied ceramic down to the floor even before the words leave your mouth properly. 

“There you go. Now put it down.” He raises his arms, as if to show you that he’s surrendered. You don’t listen to him. Why would you when you can play some more. “Pretty? Put it down, baby.” Jungkook repeats. This time more stern. He takes a step towards you. You take a step back, without surrendering. 

You have no intention of complying. You’ve complied with him for far too long. Look where it got you. One of your friends is practically dying on the floor. Your ex has a ruined face. You may hate him with a passion but that doesn’t entitle Jungkook to beat him. No. That’s way too much control. 

You’ll actually kill yourself. 

You press harder. 

This time it actually pierces your skin. A pained gasp escapes your mouth. That’s all it takes for Jungkook. He storms toward you without giving you time to act upon. Before you know it, he has your hand pushed away from your neck. A tight grip on your wrist and a twist makes the piece of shattered vase drop from your hold. 

Like that you’re no longer in control. Again.

“You’re being an ungrateful bitch again (___).” Jungkook hisses. You can smell blood on him. Jimin’s blood. Your stomach sloshes. You might throw up all over him. Jungkook lets go of your hand to grab your face, smearing all the blood on your face. God, you’ll throw up. “You’re ready to kill yourself for him?” Jungkook chuckles. Manic. Hysteric. 

You don’t answer. You stand there boneless in his grip. 

“And after everything I did for you, you still want to leave me?” Jungkook’s voice drops into a whisper. “You think these people want you back in their life?” He rests his forehead against you. For some unexplainable reason, his words sting so bad. A pain raises its head among the fear and disgust you’re feeling. “But I think I might be cursed because I love you even when you’re so stupid and ungrateful.” He sighs heavily. As if he’s revelling in the feeling of being so close to you again.

And you like it. 

Why are you enjoying it? Why does it give you hope? The disgust and fear is still there but deep down, in some sick part, you like that he’s still down for you. 

Why? What’s wrong with you?

“I told you this already, baby. You’ll never escape me.” 

I’ll fucking live inside your head, I’ll fucking burn myself into you. You. Are. Never. Going to escape me.

There goes your answer. He’s already in your head. Etched deep in your skin. Engraved in every cell in your body. He has you where exactly he wants you. It’s already too late. 

You can’t escape him. You’ll go back to him even if he never chases you up. 

You’re such an idiot to try this. All it does is make your friends—or the friend, suffer. 

Jungkook smirks. Like he knows what you’re thinking. 

“You hear me? You’re fucking stuck with me. If you want to end this so badly, I’ll kill you baby. I will kill you. I will. Never again try to harm what’s mine.” With that he pulls away. Beats a second. Then his lips are on yours. You let him. Even when you taste blood on him. You let the taste of him invade your taste buds. You let him deepen the kiss. 

The kiss doesn’t last much long. He pulls away slowly. That manic look back in his eyes. He steps away from you. Slowly. You don’t know what he’ll do next. Go back to finish his job? What will you do to stop him next?

How pathetic are you?

He bends down. Picks up the same ceramic piece you used to hold against your own neck. He doesn’t break eye contact as he does that. 

He’s going to kill Jimin. 

Jungkook takes a step back. Painfully slowly. Another.. And another. Then right at the time you think he lunges back at Jimin, he turns to his right. Just within a quick blink of an eye, he yanks Daebi—who’s standing there helping Hosoek to keep his balance—to him. Daebi’s back pressed against his chest. One arm curled around her neck. Other one pressing the damn ceramic above her chest. 

Daebi lets out a shrill scream. Hoesok takes a hurried step, his attempt of trying to catch his girlfriend turning embarrassingly null. 

“Fucking stay where you are.” Jungkook shouts, making Hoseok stop dead. “Don’t test me.” Still Jungkook adds. 

“Fuck!” Hoseok curses quietly , his arms going up in the air. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” He mutters to Daebi who’s the same color as the porcelain Jungkook is pressing against her chest. 

How romantic? 

You want to laugh. Yet you don’t. Because Jungkook’s eyes are back on you. He ignores Hosoek. 

“Do you want this, pretty?” He smirks menacingly. “This bitch stole your boyfriend.” Daebi gasps while Hoseok winces. “And she conspired behind your back to get rid of you. You would want her to suffer, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook starts to slowly take his hand down. The dull end of the ceramic scratches over Daebi’s t-shirt. Stops above her stomach.

She grunts, thrashing on Jungkook’s hold. Obviously not succeeding even a little bit. 

“Say the word, baby. You know I’ll do it. Trust me it’ll feel good. She deserves it.” 

“No. Fuck, no!” Daebi’s panicked eyes land on you. So do Hosoek’s. Hoseok turns them back to Jungkook rather quickly. He takes another stupid step up.

“Listen man—”

“Stay where you are.” Jungkook doesn’t  even spare a glance at him. Only presses his weapon more to his victim and Hoseok has no other choice but to play it cautiously. 

You watch everything without even moving a finger. Suddenly you feel so numb. Probably the effects of crying so much. Yet you haven’t stopped crying. Tears are still flowing over. Among all that, however, you feel strangely numb. Detached. 

“Say the word, pretty.” Jungkook speaks to you again. “Maybe you’ll understand what I’ll do for you then. You’ll finally see how much I love you. Maybe you’ll love me back, pretty.” He suddenly starts to sound dreamy. “Won’t you, pretty? You’ll love me if I kill her for you.” He tilts his head to the side. Waits patiently for your answer. 

Your answer!

He wants you to say yes so he can kill someone. 

Isn’t that crazy? 

Love?

He believes that killing someone would make you love him. 

Isn’t that funny?

Isn’t it funny how Daebi is finally at a place where you used to be? Panicked. Horrified. Tearing up. 

Her thrashing and struggling has turned hysterical. You don’t really hear what she’s saying, though. Hoseok has started talking again too. You can see his mouth moving and the way Jungkook is glaring at him like a wild animal. Yet you don’t hear what Hoseok is saying. 

The poor man is trying to save his girlfriend.

Isn’t it funny he wasn’t there to save you back then?

Isn’t it funny how the tables have turned. 

It’s too funny to be able to keep them all bottled up. You can’t help the way your lips quiver, nor can you help the bubble of laughter build in your throat. You swear you don’t want to laugh. Still despite your struggle, a scary chuckle leaves your mouth. And the room falls into a silence of disbelief. 

Jungkook looks at you in admiration.

Your chuckle blows into a laughter. 

Hosoek looks at you with pure disgust.

You bend down while laughing hard. 

Daebi starts to thrash again after a minute of stunned silence. 

You don’t want to laugh.

Revenge is a sweet word. It gives you comfort. Yet hurting someone isn’t on your list. Not yet at least. Maybe you’re walking toward that. Maybe you’ve finally lost your mind. 

Whatever the reason could be, Jungkook takes that as a yes.

“There you go, princess. Knew you’d want that.” His voice oozes liquid venom. 

“No. Listen…” Hoseok starts but his voice gets drowned by Daebi’s yelling. 

“No… Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook. Fucking psycho. You’re a fucking psycho. You both are…. Let me go… let me…(___)!!” She looks at you. You sober up. “You bitch! I didn’t do anything, you know? You deserve that shit. You always have been a crazy bitch and you were making Hoseok’s life fuckin miserable. I did all of us a favor.” She stops her struggle for a brief second. “You two get along well, don’t you think? You both are fucking psychos after all.” Her words fall into an utterly silent room. Shocked. Not you. Not Jungkook. But Hosoek. He even takes a step back. 

“W-what?” He looks at you, then back at Daebi. 

Daebi realized her mistake but it’s already too late. This time it’s Jungkook who laughs. An honest laugh. From the depth of his heart. 

“No.I—” Daebi starts just to be cut off by Jungkook. 

“That’s on you.” He says to Daebi. “See man,” Turns to Hoseok. “Two faced, lying bitches like your girlfriend deserves to die, anyway. But,” He presses the broken ceramic more to Daebi’s flesh over clothing. “I’ll do it this way. I mean, don’t get me wrong because she’s gonna suffer but I’ll let her live.” Hoseok almost lets out a breath in relief. Almost. “But,” Jungkook returns his gaze to you. “You’ll let us walk away peacefully” 

The words hang heavy in the air. No one says anything. Just Daebi’s whimpers. 

Hoseok waits a moment before taking a slow step back even when he had heard the truth. Through Daebi’s mouth. 

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Not that you expected anything else anyway. 

Honestly, you don’t care about Jungkook taking you away again either. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction. 

Daebi relaxes. She probably forgot the last few words of Jungkook. Just as she lets her guard down, Jungkook stabs her side. Daebi’s scream pierces your eardrums. 

“No!” Hoseok lunges forward despite his state. Before he can make it toward them, Jungkook manages to stab Daebi’s side once more. Her angry yellings turn into sobs and apologies. 

You know that Hoseok could’ve at least made Jungkook’s task a bit harder. But what stops Jungkook isn’t Hoseok. It’s the sudden bang. All of your heads snap to the direction. The sound has come from the front door. It has collided with the wall. 

Through the now open door emerges a figure. Then two. Three. 

Blue clothing. 

Yellow vests. 

Badges. 

Holding guns in their outstretched hands. 

Pointing them toward Jungkook. 

The police. 

No!

Your head starts throbbing as if it’s about to explode. Panic settles in you like a wildfire, spreading into every nerve. 

No, no, no. 

Jimin promised you.

Did he lie to you?

Then you get your answer. 

Hoseok uses the moment of distraction to pull wounded Daebi away from Jungkook. Or it’s more of Jungkook letting her go willingly. 

“Fuck you, motherfucker.” He curses aloud once his girlfriend is out of the grasp of Jungkook. “Let’s see how you get away with that.” 

And you notice the phone in Hoseok’s hand. He called the police. In another time, you would’ve reeled with fury. Not now. Not when your priorities lay somewhere else. 

You begin to feel everything back again. Anxiety rockets higher through the roof. You break into a sprint. Straight toward Jungkook. Nothing else matters. 

“Freeze.” Someone shouts. 

You ignore that as you stop in front of Jungkook. You’re shaking your head almost furiously. Jungkook returns his attention to you from the intruders. Slowly. Calmly. Too calmly. 

“I didn’t–” You stutter. “I didn’t- I swear, I never- I didn’t know–” 

“I know.” Jungkook whispers. You grab his blood covered hands willingly this time. In your peripheral you see someone rushing to Jimin. 

“Drop the weapon.” It’s all one loud noise. 

You squeeze Jungkook’s hands. 

“We-we have to run, right? We’re going to escape and, and…” You look around you frantically. There must be another door. Or you can make it to the door. 

A siren starts blaring in the distance. 

Fuck! Are you being surrounded?

No… this isn’t what you wanted in the slightest. 

Fresh waves of tears break apart from you, leaving you a trembling, sobbing mess. 

“We can fight, right?” You pull at his hands. A movement behind him catches your attention. Someone is nearing him with the metal muzzle pointed at Jungkook. You feel as if the whole world is about to snap in half. “Right?” You urge Jungkook. He’s eerily quiet. And before he can answer you, the person who came behind him yanks his hands away from your grasp. 

“Step away from the suspect, ma’am.”

No way!

You clutch his face in the absence of his hands. “Kook!” The fact he isn’t talking to you is eating you up from inside. “Please, fight!” You feel like your heart is being squeezed by an invisible hand. “God, no.” You turn to the person behind him, who’s now busy handcuffing Jungkook. “He didn’t do anything.” You almost rush to the policeman, so ready to fight him physically when Jungkook finally speaks. 

“It’s okay, Pretty.” He coaxes. 

You stare at him with teary eyes. “No, please… Yo-u c-can fight’em o-off.” Sobs break your voice. 

“Listen to me.” Some urgency leaks into his voice. Probably because the person behind him has started to pull him back. Away from you. You clung to Jungkook even more. As if he’s your breath. 

“No, please… leave him be.” You cry. Nobody gives a fuck. And to your utter horror, you feel a pair of hands wrap around you and start yanking you away from Jungkook as well. “No,no,no…”

“Pretty, listen to me!” Jungkook raises his voice. You stop struggling for a second. Apparently, that’s enough for him. His voice drops down into a whisper again. “Will you ever love me?” 

You still. 

What is he even asking? This isn’t the time for this.

“C’mon, pretty. Give me hope!” For the first time since you ever met him, Jungkook sounds broken. Utterly, Irreparably, distraught. “Give me hope to keep going on for you. Will I ever be enough?” 

It hits you. 

You’ll never escape me. 

He promised you, after all. He’ll find you again. You can’t escape him. All you have to do is give him hope. 

You take a deep breath. Nod. Once. Twice. Then you’re nodding like a broken doll. 

“Good!”

That’s all Jungkook is able to say before the damn policeman succeeds in dragging him away. Your heart wrenching cries do nothing to stop them. Your attempts at going after him come futile due to the hands that are holding you tight. 

No matter how hard you struggle you don’t manage to move an inch. Jungkook keeps looking back at you. His face is still calm. Hurt yes, but calm, nonetheless. He doesn’t put up a fight at all. He keeps his eyes on you until the very last step. Until he disappears through the threshold. 

You fall into your knees. 

And everything turns dark. 

……………..

Five hours ago. 

“Gimme an address, Daebi. You don’t want me as your enemy..” Jungkook bellows into the phone. Even without seeing, he knows Daebi flinches. 

“Fuck you, Jungkook.” Yet she has the guts to yell back. “You weren’t supposed to call me ever again.” She grits. “We had a deal in case you’ve forgotten. I can’t believe you’re making the same mistake all over again. You had her and you let this happen? You let her go? What a fucking loser you are.” 

“For fucks sake!” Jungkook shouts through the top of his lungs before he catches himself. A deep breath and he lowers his voice. You’re in the bathroom. He can’t afford to let you overhear this conversation. “Give me a damn place, D. You know I’m not going to sit back. This is your last fucking chance or you’ll have to explain to you petty boyfriend why you ever had any contact with the person who kidnapped his beloved ex. It’d wreck him, wouldn’t it?” 

A silence. 

He knows he just hit a nerve. A deep insecurity instilled within Daebi. 

“Wow!” She exclaims after a second. “That’s low even for you.” 

“I don’t care about being low. I’d fucking do it.” 

Daebi sighs heavily. Jungkook hears a low curse as well. Something suspiciously sounds like ‘son of a bitch’. 

He doesn’t care, though. As long as he gets the work done, he’s fine. 

“Fine.” At last she agrees, reluctantly. “This is the last time, Jeon. And give me some time. The bastard hasn't mentioned a thing about meeting (___) to us.” She refers to her friend. 

Park fucking Jimin. 

The devil who came to ruin it all for Jungkook. Not once but twice. He should’ve taken care of the sleazy thing a long ago. 

Mistake number one. 

Of course, he hasn't told Daebi anything. But Jungkook knows he told someone. He saw Jimin practically yelling through his phone last week. He told someone who’s not Daebi. Maybe, Hoseok?

Daebi shouldn’t trust them. People shouldn’t trust other people so much. 

Not even the person who they love so much. Like how Hoseok shouldn’t trust Daebi either. Like how Jungkook shouldn’t have trusted you. 

Mistake number two. 

He knew he fucked up the moment he saw you with Jimin the day you went out for the first time. Just staring at each other. What a cruel destiny that the bastard has to be in the same place as you are on the same day? 

Jungkook should’ve dragged you away despite all your protests after he caught you chitchatting with a stranger. 

Mistake number three.

You’re his weakness after all. He can’t help but give the things you want. 

Jungkook has wanted to storm toward you and kill Jimin right then and there. He was milliseconds away from doing it. But then you’ve asked him to trust you. And he had become the idiot who thought he might give it a try. Trusting. He had wanted to know what you’d do. 

Would you choose him?

Would you choose to stay?

So he had turned a blind eye. Had pretend that he didn’t notice a thing. Ever since that day, he’s been watching you like a hawk. You every moment. Anticipating.

Daebi is so right to say that it’s Jungkook’s fault. Even at this moment he can easily stop you from leaving the apartment once again. Cancel the date and keep you all to himself. Easy. 

The thing is, however, after the stunt you pulled, you deserve a good lesson. So does Park Jimin. Jungkook has to make sure this never happens again. Hence his reasons to go along with your stupid plan—whatever it is— like an idiot. 

It’ll pay off. He knows it will. 

“Good. You have an hour.” 

With that Jungkook hangs up.

You’ve always meant to be his. His and his only. Nothing is going to change that. 

You will never escape him.

He will always find a way.

.................................

Please show your love to the main post if you can.

[infiresyg93]

Perfect Partner | Sequel 2.2 (FINALE)

Synopsis - Jungkook finally starts trusting you.

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Yandere (Mentions of kidnapping/ Emotional manipulation/ Toxic and unhealthy love/ Obsessive Love/ Forced Intimacy/ Abusive behavior/ Controlling behavior/ Power play/ Jeon is freaking scary/ Unhealthy coping mechanisms/ Reader is broken and confused/ Possesiveness/Violence/Murder attempts/ Blood) SMUT (Oral (F. rec)/Oral fixation/Overstimualtion/ Dirty talk/ Daddy kink/ Heavy degradation/Humiliation/Foot job/Orgasm control/Slight bondage/Spit play) This is a story please!!

Word count- 28K

a/n- Hey lovelies... Here we finally are... The story is finally ending. I'm equally excited and sad. Even though I didn't plan on making this a series at first, I really fell in love with this over time. So, it pains to me to think that we are saying bye to PP Jungkook. I hope I've done a justice to the story and that you guys'd enjoy this last part as you did the past chapters. And I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. Lastly, thank you so much for all the love you sent my way throughout the whole story. You guys are the best. You made me keep going, made my worst and dullest days bright. I don't have words to thank you all enough. Let's meet with a new story maybe. I love you all.... so FUCKING much!!!❤️

I'm exceeding the 1000 blocks here so I had to post the story as two posts. You'll find the link in the end of this post.

TOXIC TILL THE END | IF I KILLED SOMEONE FOR YOU | DARKSIDE

This is the second sequel, read the first part here -

Perfect Partner

Coffee?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook can’t stop. Even when you’re practically crying and writhing on the kitchen island. Even when your weak hands are grabbing his hair and trying to push his head away. Even when he had already made you cum three times on his tongue. Still, Jungkook can’t stop ravishing on your delicious cunt. 

No. He can’t stop. He feels like he’d die if he stops. 

No. You taste too good for him to do that. 

“Just one more time baby…” He moans into your sloppy pussy,  just bringing his face up enough to be able to talk. Then he dives back in, making you half scream and half cry. 

“No… I- I ca-can’t Kook… oh- fuck…” You raise your head to peer at his face buried in your cunt. And the look on your face is enough to make Jungkook bust a nut right then and there. You look ethereal. Tears running down your cheeks. Face flushed and mouth parted. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. 

How can he stop when you look like that?  

How can he stop when your taste and essence are making him go wild? 

There is no way he would stop before you cum on his mouth one more time. So, he shakes his head in denial before pressing his lips more into your clit. You fall back onto the table as he starts to suckle on the sweet bud, grazing his teeth over here and there. Your moans turn into breathless gasps. 

Jungkook’s head is spinning. He needs more. More of you. One of his hands which he doesn’t use to keep you laid on your back goes to cup his cock over his sweaters. He’s so hard. Hard that it hurts but he can’t even do anything about it. He just needs to please you. To see you losing your mind. 

Jungkook thinks he is so darn lucky. The moment he found you knelt in that room. With the photos—which he left there like an idiot—he had thought that he lost you once and forever. He was beyond surprised when you had kissed him like that without even giving him enough time to explain properly. Then you’ve never brought it up. So, Jungkook had let it slip as well. No good will ever come by trying to dig up a hurtful past. As long as you’re with him, everything will be fine. More than fine actually. This is more than fine. This is heaven. 

With a guttural groan and a painful squeeze to his own cock, Jungkook lets your clit go. Just to drag his tongue down between your nether lips toward the quavering hole. He enters his tongue into you, feeling the way your thighs shake. He can feel your telltale signs. You’re just about to fall over the edge again. And Jungkook will be there to catch you again. He moans into your cunt as he slurps on your juices. His other hand furiously jerking himself off over the layers of cottons. 

“Ju-Jung-oh fuck…” You try in vain to perform words, which turn into gasps and cries halfway through. “Pl-please… I-I…”Your hands are blindly searching for something to grab as Jungkook keeps tongue fucking you into numbness. He’s a man on a mission after all. He has to feel you tremble. Has to hear you scream his name. 

He has heard it more times than he can count, within the past few weeks, but Jungkook will never be satisfied. Every time he fucks you, it ends up igniting new flames of desire inside him. He will never not want you. He will always want you. You’re the source of his life. Bringing you mind numbing pleasure is like a sacred ritual to him. And he’s just about to succeed. He presses his face more into your dripping pussy. His task would be easier if he’s to use his fingers. Just a few flicks over your clit would make you see stars. Or he could graze his fingers over your little special spot. But he wants to see if he can make you cum just with tongue. Nothing else but just burying his face between your thighs. 

For his immense pleasure just with one more thrust of his tongue inside you, he hears the tangled cry you let out, which sounds so close to his name before he feels the way your whole body trembles. Just like he wanted. More and more gush leaks out of your cunt into his tongue. You almost crush his head, trying to close your legs, forcing Jungkook to bring his both hands to keep your legs spread for him. Until he drinks every last bit of everything you give him and you cry desperately for him to move away. 

“Please… I can’t again…no more… Please…” You cry out slowly as Jungkook finally gets to his feet. His chest heaving for much needed air. Jungkook takes your sprawled form on his kitchen island, wiping down his face from his t-shirt. You peer at him through your glazed eyes. You look so spent. Fucked up. You look like his. His already painfully hardened cock stir impatiently at the sight. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook coos, helping you sit down on the table top. You shake your head instantly. Bring your shaky hands up to wipe down your tears. You are such a pretty mess. Adorable. Oh, how in love he is with you. “Are you sure, Pretty?” He cocks an eyebrow. Gently pulls his pants down, just enough to free his cock out of its tight confines. Just like he knows your eyes immediately fall down toward the movement. Jungkook watches in a bemused intrigue the way your throat bobs when you gulp harshly at the scene that is treating you. 

After all these time with you, Jungkook has learned more than a few things about you. One of them is that no matter how spent you are or how tired you are, you’re just a whore for him. And he has learned that seeing him pleasuring himself is one of your greatest weak points. Hence, his deliberate act to show you what you want to see. His tattooed fingers wrapped around his length, and pumping lazily just for your viewing pleasure. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me inside you, Pretty?” Jungkook can’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips watching the way your eyes glued to his member. He can’t help but take a step forward and let his cock graze over your inner thigh. His cock jumps in his hand while your breath hitches yet again. “I don’t want to force you, Princess,” Jungkook places a soft kiss in your hair. He means what he says but at the same time he knows the game he’s playing. Has played it too many times to be defeated. “So, I guess you don’t want me to fuck your pretty cunt today.” He says softly. Yet in contrast to his words, he brings his cock head between your still sloppy folds. Just to nudge against your sensitive clit. Drags down toward your entrance. You spread your legs wide unconsciously. 

Jungkook can see the change of mind already in your eyes. Can see the way your eyes darken with lust despite all the orgasms he just gave you. Still he steps back with that one nudge against you even when it feels like his cock is about to fall down. He might actually cry if you don’t let him bury himself inside you within the next twenty seconds. 

But of course he gets what he wants in the end. 

You gasp aloud first before a cry escapes your dried lips. You catch Jungkook’s arm faster than a lightning, impressing him with your quick reflexes. 

“No…” This time the shake of your head is for another reason. “No please.”

“What? You said you can’t take it anymore?”

“I know but… fuck… just fuck me Kook.” You spread your legs even wider, showing him a perfect view of your pussy, dripping with new arousal. Jungkook would’ve liked to play this game a little bit longer and make you cry for his cock. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, however, he is about to come with doing nothing. He’s not going to do it anywhere but inside you. So, he caves in right at that. 

He grabs your thighs and drags you closer to the edge of the table. Gives you no more than a second to process it before he’s fully sheathed inside you in one powerful thrust, knocking the air out of both of your lungs. You scream his name while Jungkook lets out an almost animalistic growl. 

You feel good. You always have. He’d never get used to this feeling of your tight cunt gripping him like a vice. He’d never get used to the feeling of being inside of your warmth. Holding you. Having you. After all this time it still feels like a dream. It still feels like his first time. Not just the first time with you but his first time ever with a woman. You make him feel like the lanky boy who he once was. Who almost came in his pants just by hugging you. Just by kissing you. He’d had you enough time but he’s certain that he’s gonna cum. Hard. 

He can’t have that now. No. You deserve another orgasm. So, he takes a minute. Trying to think about something else other than your sloppy pussy. But you’re making it so damn hard. 

“Move, please…” Your hips buck forward, trying to get the friction you desperately want.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook has no other options but to grip your cheeks tight as a warning, making you halt your weak pushes. “What did I say about being patient, slut?” He shakes your face in his hold. You whimper pathetically. Eyes tearing up and Jungkook feels a pleasurable burn in his stomach. He loves this. Loves it when you’re completely at his mercy. Loves it when you’re being just a toy for him to play with. It reminds him of the power he has over you. Reminds him that finally you’re his and his only. That he’s finally won. 

“I-I’m so-sorry.” You do your best to hold his gaze. You're a smart girl. You know making him mad won't turn out good for you. Jungkook can write a book about the times he has stolen your orgasms away because you were being an impatient brat. 

“Are you?” Jungkook tightens his grip on you. Feels the way you squeeze his cock tight just like his hold. Yet he manages to give you a shallow thrust. You nod. Do your best to convince him. He knows you’re sorry and you’re playing it safe. Knows that you’re trying to be a good girl for him. Yet he’s the one in control. He can play it fair or not. “Are you?” He repeats with another cold and harsh shake to your head. “Use your words, whore. You can’t speak?” 

A fresh tear falls out of the corner of your eyes. Your cunt pulsing around him. 

“Y-yes daddy,” You whisper breathlessly. “I’m sorry.” Bring your hand to grab his wrist. 

Jungkook curses aloud. What a perfect thing you are. 

“Then prove it baby.” He presses his fingers on your cheeks until your lips form a pout. “You’d let daddy do anything to you, wouldn't you, Pretty?” He brings his face closer to you. You mumble an inaudible ‘yes’, which he ignores as he gathers saliva in his mouth. He can feel how excited you are even before he hovers his mouth over yours. He even suspects you’d cum with just this by the way you moan and clench when his spit lands on your tongue. 

You waste no second before you gulp down what he gave you without an ounce of reluctance.

“Fucking, slut!” So, he wastes no second before changing his hold on your face to your neck. You let out a guttural, choked moan as he starts to slam into you right away. Harsh and hard as he can. Just like how you want it. How you love it. How he loves it. 

His hard cock drags along your velvety walls perfectly as his tip hits all the right spots deep inside you. He makes sure to cut down your air flow just enough to make your head spin. To make your eyes go blank with pleasure. Nothing else remains there beyond pleasure and Jungkook. Just the way he needs it to be. He needs to be the only thing in your life. Only one in your life. Just him. Like how you’re to him. And moments like these show him that maybe he’s already become the only person in your life. Because in your eyes he can only see him. 

“Holy hell, slut… Fuck, like that… take me like a good girl…” Jungkook shifts his attention from your eyes to where he’s meeting you. Your cunt is making the sweetest sounds whenever he rams into you. You’re dripping all over him and yourself. And he fits so damn perfectly with you. “Fuck! Look at this baby. Look how well you’re taking me…” Jungkook pays his attention back to your face. Loosens his hold on your throat so you can do as he says. 

“Oh, baby…” You whisper quietly once your eyes land on the immaculate sight. You’ve lost it completely. Don’t know what you’re saying or doing. Your attention fully on the way Jungkook’s cock is meeting your wet heat. But damn, doesn’t Jungkook’s heart skip a huge beat. No, not just a skip of a beat. It stops entirely. His breathing slows down torturously. 

What did you call him?

No matter how many times Jungkook had you like this or how many moments you’ve shared. No matter how close you’ve become, you haven’t called him anything other than his full birth name or just Kook and daddy when you two are at it. 

You called him nicknames when he was pretending to be a darn. But that isn't the same as hearing you say it to him now. No pretending. No lies. You know who he is. And still you called him that. 

Jungkook stills his movements abruptly, causing you to cry in complaint, which you swallow down soon. Probably not wanting to be in trouble being impatient again. Jungkook, though, is not in a  headspace to note that let alone punish you. 

He had to stop because he was about cum. Those words out of your mouth had made him malfunction. Even the grip on your throat he had, loosened. 

“Say it again, Princess.” He completely ignores your panicked gaze. Cups your cheeks softly this time. 

“Huh?” You look so confused.

“What did you call me just now?” He leans his forehead against you. “Say that again, Pretty. Call me like that again.”

Judging by the way you still and your body goes rigid, Jungkook knows you realized what happened. You inhale a shaky breath. Say absolutely nothing. Just as Jungkook becomes convinced that you won’t say it again. That you have muttered that out of the heat of the moment, your lips part. 

“B-baby?” Your voice is almost inaudible but he hears it loud and clear, nonetheless. He couldn’t have suppressed the moan that is about spill even if he had tried. 

“Oh God!!!” His cock pulses inside you. Maybe he grows even harder. He’s going to cum. He sure will cum if he moves even a little bit. Still he wants to hear it again. “Say it again,” he pulls out his cock a little bit. Waits patiently until you say the word. Then as you mumble the word again he rams into you. 

“Kook…” You back arches at the force of his thrust. Jungkook falls back into fucking your brains out. 

“Jeesus fuck, Pretty… Keep calling me like that, huh?” He tries to command when the control is slipping through his fingers by every passing second. He’s going to cum. Any minute now. That’s how good this feels. Even better than seeing you desperate for him. Ready to be humiliated and bring yourself to the lowest just for him. No. This is better than anything. “Gonna fill you soon… you want that?” Jungkook snakes his hand behind your head. Fists your hair and pulls back, getting a perfect view of the expanses of your neck to him. 

“Yes. Plea-please… oh God, please… please, Daddy…” You choke out. 

“Is that how I wanted to be called, huh slut?” Your soft, supple skin is covered with dozens of bites he gave you over days. And how pretty you look with them. Who can blame him for wanting to add just a few more? He has to. So he does just that all the while ramming into you continuously. Over and over again. Rearranging your insides into his shape. Claiming you again. Soon he’ll paint your womb with his seeds as well. But the thing is though, he needs you to cum again before that. Needs to feel you trying to milk his cock desperately. 

Jungkook pulls away from your neck after adorning your skin with some fresh blooms. Keeps his hand on your hair. Uses his free hand to slap your engorged, sensitive clit. Just with the right pressure to make you jolt. “Is that what I asked you to do, whore? Answer me?” 

You cry in pleasurable pain as he delivers another slap. “No..No.. I–”

“Say the word,” Jungkook cuts off your innocent rambling with another spank. 

For his great misery, he doesn’t get to hear you whisper the word sensually like before. But for his great happiness he gets to hear you scream it as that last spank does it for you. 

Your orgasm ripples through you in shaky waves that all Jungkook can do is watch in awe when you eyes roll back, your whole body trembles like a leaf caught in wind, and your limp body gives in and falls back. You almost bangs your head on the wooden table. Only if Jungkook would allow any harm towards you though. 

His grip on your hair turns iron. Just like the force of his thrusts become more violent. 

“Yes fucking hell, fuck yes baby… God dammit I… shit…” His words slurs into breathless whimpers as the desperate clenching of your cunt and your sweet cries pulls that long impending orgasm out of him. His cock twitches madly as he shoots ropes of cum into your welcoming heat. More and more. Everything he has. Until there’s no more left and he can’t move at all. That’s when he finally stops his thrusts and eases you into lying on the island.

You both take a minute. Maybe you take more than a minute. You just lay there on the table top without being able to lift a finger, leaving Jungkook to find your discarded clothes and pulling you up so he can dress you. You let him do whatever he wants. Being so tired and pouty. 

He slips your t-shirt over your head. Almost reaches for a tissue so he can cleans you up before pulling your panties and shorts up when a loud ring disrupts both of you. The doorbell. 

Your tired eyes turn to him. There’s no many people who visit Jungkook. You both know who this might be. He had ordered take out just before he got distracted and had you sprawled on his kitchen island. 

You nod in a silent understanding, knowing that he’d have to leave you here to get the door, which is what he should do. But then, something stops him. 

You’ve been good. More than good. You’ve proven that you want to be with him. No more funny business. Jungkook has made you surrender. 

He swears that he never wanted to keep you locked up in his apartment. Some things in life are unavoidable, however. Can’t be helped. This has been the price of taking you into the bright side. Now, though, maybe he can let his guard down. Since, you’ve been good, maybe it’s time he gives you what you crave oh so much. 

He promised you a date after all. Maybe it’s time he should take you on that long promised date. Still, to do that he needs to make sure that you’re trustworthy. That you won’t try something funny even when the opportunity arises. That you’ll choose him like he chooses you. 

“Wanna get the door?” So, he offers you before he can back out. Apparently, it comes out so left that you almost don’t hear him. It takes you an adorable minute to realize what he said. 

“Wh-what?” When it does, your eyes turn into saucers. Even a soft, quick gasp leaves your mouth. 

“Wanna answer the door, baby? Wanna get the delivery?” Your innocent surprise is making his heart ache. He elaborates softly yet again while slowly rubbing your cheek. “C’mon, Pretty, do you want to? We can’t let the poor man hang in there. If you don’t want to, I’ll go take it.” Latter would be a great option too. But then after a second, you nod. First, unsurely which turns into a firm nodding. Determined. “Good girl. Go ahead.” He grabs your hips to pull you down at the same time you reach for the tissues. 

Well, that’s where you’re doing the wrong thing. This is a test, yes. He wants to give you anything and everything you want. But at the same time, not having you all to himself pierces something inside him painfully. He has to have some kind of control. Has to remind you continuously that you’re his. 

Your brows knit in confusion when he stops you from grabbing some tissues. 

“You’re gonna keep the cum inside, Pretty.” Jungkook lets the wicked smile spread across his face, finding his veins thrum when he sees your stricken expression. You open your mouth to protest. 

“B-but–”

Jungkook cuts you off immediately. A firm grip on your cheeks again shuts you up effectively. 

“No buts, Pretty. Get going now. Be a good girl.” He swears he sees your confusion and panic turn into another wave of lust in a blink of an eye. You beat no time in nodding again. 

See he has you exactly where he wants. 

………………………..

You don’t know what Jungkook is planning. Simply, you don’t care either. This’ll be your first time interacting with someone after Jungkook brought you here. After all this time, you’ve gotten used to being trapped. You no longer crave the outside world like you did in the first few months. But now as you are waiting for the delivery man to reach your floor and meet you at the door, you feel waves of excitement rush through your body. 

You feel nervous. Giddy. Like a kid trying a Ferris wheel for the first time. Ridiculous. Yet you can’t help it. You’re buzzing with an unexplainable happiness. Even though your underwear is messy and wet with Jungkook’s cum. Even though part of you is afraid of cum dripping down your thighs and the delivery guy noticing it. You love to be humiliated in bed but not like this, no. You’d be mortified. But you can’t deny that there’s a thrill to it other than meeting someone from outside. A thrill that is arousing. 

You do your best to keep your excitement under control as well as Jungkook’s cum inside your vagina. You nearly fail at both when the knock sounds at the door. Your heart rams in your chest as you bring your shaky hand up to push down the door handle. It pulls down quite easily. Very easily. Easier than you imagined it would be. It’s funny considering how scared you were to just pull it down. It makes you surprised. As if you expected a bomb to detonate when you push the handle. 

Nothing of the sort happens. You pull open the door swiftly, revealing a man wearing a helmet, face uncovered and a white plastic bag on his hand. Such a normal thing to see after you order takeout. Then here you are on the verge of tears at the sight of a random stranger. Frozen. Unable to do anything but stare. 

“Hi!” The stranger greets you, to which you respond with nothing but more silence. You’re staring and you know. You’re rudely staring. 

The man on the other side of the door waits a few minutes in utter silence like you. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. Holds the package of food toward you. 

“Uh… your order… ma’am?” Mumbles awkwardly. That breaks your stupor. You clear your throat as well. Take the package in your hand hurriedly. 

“Oh, yes.. Th-thank you so much. Appreciate it!” You force yourself to act normal. This feels foreign. Something so ordinary feels like an unfamiliar language. 

“No problem!” The delivery person bows to you as turns on his heel. Leaving you still standing on the doorway. You stay there. You stand still for another long second. Until the stranger walks away. Away from your sight. Until you hear the ding of the elevator. You stare at the empty wall in front of the apartment door which you’ve never seen. 

Isn’t that crazy?

You’ve never seen what lies behind this door. 

Now you do. 

The scary thing? You don’t find solace in seeing it like you expected. You don’t feel thrilled. 

Wait! 

You just opened the door for a stranger. You talked with someone else. You have all the opportunities to ask for help. 

 You didn’t. 

Now you have an opened door. You dreamt of crossing this threshold a million times. You can do it at this moment. Give it a try. 

You don’t want to. 

Fuck!

You don’t want to escape.

You turn around slowly and cautiously, not exactly knowing what this newest realization makes of you. Are you that fucked up? 

Are you? 

When you completely turn around and meet with the only person who kept you company for all these months you realize the answer. 

You are fucked up. 

Because instead of escaping, you find solace in this person. In Jeon Jungkook. The man who made your life a living hell. You no longer wish to escape him. 

You gulp harshly, struggling to return his smile as he walks over to you with a warm smile and kisses your forehead. 

This is scary. 

This is not good. 

…………………………

After so long, probably for months, you feel unsettled. After everything that has happened, you’ve finally lived so peacefully that this feeling is like an unwanted memory of a nightmare from your childhood. 

How did you become so content with living with Jungkook? The person who kidnapped you, threatened you, threatened your friends, scared the shit out of you and more. Add more to the fucking list now that you know he was the one who made your life hell back then as well. 

Still, you put all that aside and decided to live in a delusional bubble that you’re safe?

You decided to believe Jungkook?

You decided to choose Jungkook over your freedom? Your life?

You feel your throat tighten. For the first time in so long you’re so tense in Jungkook’s hold as he scrolls through his phone. Keeping you pressed against his firm body and drawing mindless patterns on your back.

You’re not tense because suddenly you’ve started to repulse him again. No. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Even after the realization, you find immense comfort in his touch. His hold. His warmth. The steady rhythm of his heart. 

That’s what bothers you so much. 

It shouldn’t be like this.

“Pretty?” Jungkook’s sudden voice pulls you out from your train of thoughts. You lift your head slightly to look at him. “Are you okay?” He questions in a hushed voice, eliciting goosebumps across your skin.

For fuck’s sake!

“Yes,” You fall back into his chest. “Why do you ask?” You don’t want him to notice anything different. Partially because you’re afraid that he’ll start to distrust you again. Partially because you think it’d hurt him. 

Why are you caring about his feelings?

You scrunch your eyes shut and grit your teeth subtly. You must’ve lost your mind. That’s the reason. You’ve gone crazy. 

“You’re so quiet.” Jungkook answers your question. Puts his phone aside. Full attention on you. “What’s wrong?” Rolls you into the bed so he can look at you. 

You give him a forced smile, hoping it’d look sincere. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Kookie. I’m fine.” You reassure him only to see him furrowing deep. 

“Well, that proves you’re not okay at all. When people say I’m fine, that means they are not,” he comes closer to you. “What’s wrong, Pretty?” 

Damn his observations. How could he know you so well? 

“Um… nothing, really…” you rake your brain for a believable answer. “I mean… uh.. I’m just bored.” You mutter in the end. 

Jungkook gasps slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Did you just say you’re getting bored of me?” He brings a hand to caress your cheek. An involuntary pout forms in your lips. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, baby.” You huff. Jungkook’s face, however, beams instantly. You noted for the past few days that the nickname baby does that to him. Like switching a light on. He comes even closer to you, letting the tip of your nose touch his. 

“Then how come you’re bored?” 

You feel lightheaded at the proximity. You like his scent. It’s faint but enough to calm you down. 

“You know…” you try to walk around the topic, not knowing what the right answer is. 

“I don’t. Please enlighten me.” That boyish grin of his makes an appearance. 

You sigh heavily. Seems like you have no way out of it. Better get the best out of it then. 

“Well it’s eating, sleeping, watching movies, reading and doing the same thing all over again Jungkook…” you blurt out before you can start second guessing. When you said similar things to him in the past, you’ve seen his eyes darken. The familiar sunshine of a boy disappears every time you bring up such a topic. So, you expect that to happen this time as well. 

It doesn’t. All that happens is an unnecessary silence for a second before Jungkook pulls away. 

“What about fucking? Is it boring too?” Then he raises a cocky brow. That sparkle is still there in his eyes. You can’t help but roll your eyes. You do such a good job hiding your confusion and surprise.

“Oh, c’mon…” You whine at how unserious he is being. 

“What? Tell me… is it boring?” He sneaks one of his hands inside your t-shirt so unexpectedly that you let out a loud squeal. He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before his fingers start to roam over your sides. Tickling you violently. Causing a bubble of laughter builds up in your throat and spills out like a sweet melody. 

“Oh, god, sto-stop it…” You do your best to escape the attack. Thrashing on the bed. 

“Is it boring? Is it?” Jungkook’s pretty giggles match yours as he keeps tickling you. Until you’re breathless and tears prick at your eyes. That’s only when he stops. You drag in a deep breath to calm down your body as Jungkook takes you in with his sparkly eyes. 

When he looks at you like that, you think he’s the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Because he is. No one would ever suspect that he has an ugly side that made him keep you locked in here. 

With that thought, you sober up completely. Your smile vanishes from your face. 

There you go again, being so damn comfortable with him. 

Like this is a normal relationship. 

Jungkook raises a brow at your sudden silence and serious expression.

“I’m serious, baby.” You whisper out. You’ve come to learn that the simple word has so much influence over Jungkook that any other mishap about your actions would easily slip his mind. Just like you knew his face lights up with a bright smile. 

“I know.” Then he answers you in another whisper. You try to question what he means when he interrupts you. “Wanna do something new then?” He keeps his voice low. Nothing but a murmur. You guess his new thing would be another board game. Or baking. Or cooking. Nothing, however, would’ve prepared you for his next words. “Let’s go on a date.” He states so casually. Normally. Without a hitch in his voice or flinch in his face. You, on the other hand, freeze. Your lungs empty out in a second. 

You gape at him like a stupid fish. No answer or reaction coming from you. 

Did you hear that right? 

Did he say ��date’? 

“I promised you a date and I think it’s time. I think you’re ready, Pretty.” He pecks your lips. You still stay unmoving. Your mind is going haywire. “What do you say, Princess. Wanna go on a date with me?” He repeats. 

As if your answer really matters.

As if you have a choice. 

………………..

You said yes. 

Of course, you did. You’d be the biggest idiot in the universe if you didn’t. You’ve been cooped up in his apartment for way too long that the feeling of walking down a busy road has become a fantasy. A fantasy that you crave so badly. There was no way you would’ve said no. Even though the idea of a date has helped you realise how much control Jungkook has over you. And how you don’t have any control over your own life. 

You can’t even blame him, though. In the end, he has asked you. You said yes. The thing is, you know, he knew you were going to say yes. 

Jungkook is a genius. He created the problem and now he’s selling the solution. You know it. Still, there’s only so much you can do about it. Not because you’re still helpless. Not because you’re afraid of him. No. Because despite everything, you’re still enjoying his company. You like being around him.

How fucked up. 

Just like how fucked up it is to stand in the threshold, holding Jungkook’s hand and being a bundle of nerves. Just to go outside. You’re just going on a date. You’re just stepping outside after a long time. 

Holy fuck, you’re actually stepping outside!

You’re going to cross this threshold!

You shouldn’t be this excited over this or nervous. But you are. And the only thing that’s keeping you sane is the firm grip Jungkook has on you. You’re relying on him completely. You can’t even step out unless you know he has your back. 

How utterly fucked up!

“Ready, Pretty?” Jungkook asks. Ridiculous. You two are acting like you’re about to enter a new world. You answer his question, nonetheless, with a firm nod. “Alrighty, here we go then.” He gives you a reassuring smile before stepping into the hallway first. Then he pulls you closer to him. 

Just one step, and you’re out. 

You’re outside!

A sudden sting in your eyes causes you to blink harshly. 

You can’t believe this. You’re no longer surrounded by black and white walls. Technically, you still are, but they're not the same. Not the same walls you looked at for almost a year. 

You’re doing this!

………………

“Shh... baby, it’s okay. I got you.” Jungkook’s condescending voice wraps around you like the sweetest layer of honey. Your back hits his chest as you take a rushed step back, startled. Everything is too much. 

Vehicles. People. Loud chatter. Roars of engines. The rush hour traffic. 

Everything is too much that you can barely breathe. 

You can’t believe you were part of this exact world before Jungkook robbed it from you. Now as you’re standing on the sidewalk near his apartment building, watching vehicles drive past you at a snail’s pace, you feel like you’ve never been a part of this. 

Everything is too loud. 

You used to watch the city bustle beneath you every damn day from the window up from the apartment. You used to watch the lights, tiny dots of people walking around. You used to listen to the distant sound of vehicles and sometimes honks. But those were nothing compared to feeling them in real life. Again. It’s supposed to be again but you’re overwhelmed as if it’s your first time. 

“It’s okay, Pretty.” Jungkook coaxes you again as you keep staring at the traffic with wide eyes. As you stand in the middle of the sidewalk like a stupid statue, inconveniencing the passersby. “We can go back if you don’t want to do this.” He adds in your silence. 

How caring of him. 

You almost scoff at the words before you turn your head and catch his eyes. He looks concerned. Worried. Genuinely so. 

You bite back your scoff, shaking your head. 

“I’m fine.” You try to keep your voice firm, in which you fail completely. It’s nothing but a meek whisper. Jungkook curls his arms around your figure. 

“Are you sure?” 

You nod this time. 

“Yes,” You exhale a long breath. This is ridiculous. There’s nothing to be scared about going out on a date in a public place. People do that all the time. You’ve done it thousands of times in your life. A mere year of isolation and a couple of haunted experiences probably couldn't have destroyed all your strength. No. That can’t be right. You wanted this. Even though this is making you more dependent on Jungkook, you dreamt of this for months. You can’t just back out now. You will do this, one way or another. You’re stuck with Jungkook and this life anyway. You’re not hating it like you did in the past. So, you better get the best out of every minute of your life then. “I want to do this.” 

………………………

There are rules. 

Why would you even be surprised that there are rules? Of course, there are. No matter how much you want to delude yourself into believing that this is a normal date, the facts really don’t change. You’re still the victim and Jungkook is the criminal. 

For your misery, though, you happened to accept those rules wholeheartedly when he brought them up just after he suggested the date. 

Rule number one, no talking with any stranger. Stranger danger, after all.

Rule number two, you’re not allowed to go anywhere alone, without Jungkook. You must stay glued to his side every single damn minute. 

Rule number three, or more of a threat than a rule, if you try anything funny, he’ll make sure to make everyone’s life hell. 

Those were all he had. He called them agreements. You called them rules. Either way you both were fine with it a couple of days ago. And you still are in the present, as you thread your way through the crowd of busy people, who are rushing to be on time for their jobs. 

People have jobs. Places to be. Things to do. They all have a life. Unlike some people who are being locked inside a luxurious apartment and are strangely fine with it. 

You physically shake your head to get rid of the unwanted thoughts. You know what you’re doing is not okay. Maybe, you’re not okay. But you accepted the defeat a long time ago. You have no strength to fight anymore. Jungkook is giving you an illusion of hope, protection, and happiness, even though it’s a huge illusion. Yet, it’s there. The comfort. 

You take a look at the godly-looking man who’s walking next to you. He’s getting noticed by people, like he should. How the fuck a face like that would go unnoticed? He’s making people swoon over him, just by doing nothing but exist. Is wearing black from head to toe, for fuck’s sake but he’s like the moon among millions of stars. And that man is holding your hand. He’s obsessed with you. 

How insane?

Jungkook looks down at you, probably sensing the weight of your gaze. His eyes twinkling. 

“What?” A grin adorns his face. A huge and wide grin that even that darn dimple makes an appearance. 

“What?” You question back. 

“Why are you staring?” 

“I don’t know… Why? I can’t look at you?” 

You stop in your tracks. After being out for more than thirty minutes and having breakfast in a quiet yet crowded cafe, your anxiety has reduced. It’s all new and exciting. It’s still too much but you can breathe. You’re getting used to people. 

Jungkook comes to a halt as well. 

“Course you can, baby. I love when you’re looking at me.” Says playfully before falling into walking through the busy sidewalks again. 

You follow him mindlessly, fingers entangled with his. Lost in your thoughts again. And in Jungkook. You follow him to the next destination of your date. A street food festival which happened to be taking place on the exact day Jungkook decided to take you out. Or he planned this for weeks. He probably did. You know he did. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad. Even with the stupid rules, the day is going well and you’re smiling more than you like. 

Yes. It’s all good. 

……………………..

You thought it would be good. And it was going well. Most of your day was filled with laughter. Corny jokes, stupid flirting and stolen kisses. Weirdly enough you think you’ve never been this happy. Not even with Hoseok. Maybe you were. But every happy memory shared with him was tainted with pain. Something miserable that came afterward. True that Jungkook is tainted with so many even more miserable memories. But somehow none of them mattered as you were gliding through the streets, stuffing your mouth with various foods that made no sense together. 

You were happy. 

The day was going well. 

Your cheeks are practically aching because of how much you’ve been smiling like a fool. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook… You can’t eat that. It looks horrible. You’ll throw up…” You squeal horrified, eyeing his disgusting food creation on a stall where they allowed people to make food combo. It’s supposed to be a delicious food combo. Certainly not mayonnaise on chocolate dipped-strawberries. Your stomach churns even at the sight as Jungkook sniffs a strawberry. 

“It smells… okay?” He shrugs. Then looks at you with puppy eyes. As if waiting for your approval to try it. 

“I’m sure it smells disgusting.” You scrunch up your face. 

“It’s not.” Jungkook giggles loudly. “Try it, here…” Brings up a berry toward your face. 

“No fucking thanks.” You shake your head frantically as you take a step back. Still grinning from ear to ear but having no intention to smell the nasty thing in his hand. Jungkook’s giggles turn loud as he takes a step toward you. 

“C’mon, Pretty, trust me. It doesn't smell bad…” He pushes the fruit more toward your face, causing you to take another step, then another and another. Both of your laughter mixes with the hundred other sounds filling the air. You’re finally seamlessly blending with the world again. 

“No!” You almost turn around and run for your life when Jungkook backs up. Finally, letting his face scrunch up in disgust as well. 

“Okay. This smells like shit.”

“See, I knew it you asshole.” You pout while he starts looking around until his eyes land on a nearby trash bin. 

“C’mon, you know I love you.” Jungkook kisses your forehead quickly before turning around and walking toward the bin. Leaving you behind. 

Rule number two, you must stay with him all the time. You are. It’s ridiculous to follow him when he’s just going to the trash bin. 

It’s just a few steps ahead anyway. 

You watch the way he trots down the dusty road, your smile never ceasing. Ridiculous. The fact you’re happy when in reality you should be crying. Yet here you are. Even the thought isn’t enough to waver your smile down. So isn’t the voice that suddenly appears next to you. 

“Uh, hello!” 

You snap your head to where the voice comes. Your eyes meet with a boy wearing a white t-shirt and black cap. Just one look at him and you know he’s someone raising funds for some kind of campaign. Maybe a college student. He seems pretty young. 

You widen your smile with a touch of politeness and return the bow he gives you. 

“Hey!” You greet him. No need to be rude. The boy bows to you one more time before starts speaking. 

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but, uh, I’m an Economics major at Yonsei University and we’re raising funds to help low income families around Seoul…” He blurts out some more information about their campaign while showing you the food stall they’re operating, ending his ramble with a polite request to buy a bowl of soup. You’re already full to be honest but the lanky boy has a look that makes people say yes to him no matter what. 

Yet it’s not like you have any money with you. 

Oh, yes. You need to ask Jung–

“What’s going on?” Jungkook’s cold voice douses over you, grabbing your attention from the boy to him. You open your mouth to explain then close back when you notice the scowl on his face. Deep. His eyes dark and expression stern. A familiar look you never wanted to see on his face again. 

You’re scared of Jeon Jungkook. But lately you found that you’re just scared of one side of him. As long as you manage to keep that side drowned beneath the man who gives you starry eyes and hearty smiles, you are fine. Which you fail to do at this moment. 

Fuck. 

Rule number one, you’re not allowed to talk to strangers, no matter what. 

Your throat suddenly goes dry. Memories of bloody chopsticks and a man howling in pain cross your mind like flash. 

Jeon Jungkook is a dangerous man. A man capable of murder. This is not good. You need to walk away immediately. 

“Ah, nothing…” You shake your head, trying your best to smile again. Trying your best to soothe your parched throat with saliva. You reach for Jungkook’s arm, ready to walk away as fast as possible. Unfortunately for you the boy beats you to it. 

“Hello, Sir, I’m from Yonsei Uni–”

“What’s going on?” Jungkook cuts off the boy’s polite introduction rudely. His question is directed at you. His voice has turned from cold to merciless metal that you wince at the tone before your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You throw a hasty, apologetic glance at the boy. 

“Nothing, Jungkook. We should go…” Your second attempt of walking away without causing a scene comes in vain when he shakes your hand off his arm. Just to grab yours instead and yanks you to him. Bends down so his face is mere inches apart from yours. 

“I said no talks with strangers.” He mutters through his gritted teeth. Your embarrassment splits in half leaving a part for humiliated anger. 

“I know.” So, you hiss back. 

“Then what do you think you’re doing?” Jungkook’s grip on you tightens into a painful sting. 

“Let’s go please.” You whisper instead of answering his question, being very aware of the fact that the boy is still staring at your stupid interaction and probably judging. For a second it appears that Jungkook won’t listen to you. But then in the next he gives a death glare to the poor, clueless boy before storms away. With you of course. Practically yanks you away. Doesn’t stop even when you’re out of the premises. Out in the streets. 

He keeps walking. Walking and walking. So fast that you stumble on your feet to keep up with him. Your wrist aches at his grip and your eyes sting at the fact that you’re currently being dragged away across a city.

No. 

This is beyond humiliating. 

He can’t treat you this way. You’re not a fucking kid. Or a pet. 

“Stop it,” You do your best to state sternly. Nothing comes of it. So, you have no other option but to raise your voice a bit. “Stop Jungkook,” Still nothing. “Stop it for fuck’s sake.” This time it works. You manage to come to a dead halt pulling him with you. 

“What?” Jungkook closes the distance between you in a blink of an eye. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You blink back the tears that are threatening to spill. 

“Going back home.” Jungkook answers you as if it was so obvious and you’re too dumb to understand that. 

“Why?” The stern edge in your voice cracks beneath the weight in your heart. A pain that’s very familiar to you but it’s here for a whole other reason. 

“Why?” Jungkook scoffs softly. “Why? I asked you not to talk–”

“I didn’t talk with anyone. He talked with me. He was just asking me to buy a–”

“I don’t give a fuck, Pretty!” His sudden loud voice startles a poor woman. You avert your gaze farther away to avoid looking at her. You know how this looks. How embarrassing? “What did you say to the fucker?” Jungkook asks again with no care whatsoever about where you currently are. Surrounded by people who are giving you looks of pity. 

A coil churns inside your stomach.

This can’t be real. He can’t be asking you such a question. 

“N-nothing— what- oh my god, Jungkook what do you think?” You give a weak attempt to free your hand from his. Give up when it only results in his grip turning to steel. 

“I don’t know…” Jungkook finally lowers his voice into a hiss. Thank god. “I asked you not to talk with strangers for a reason, Pretty.”

He’s causing such a scene out of something so small. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be so paranoid. He doesn’t trust you. You know that. But what hurts you is that he’s treating you this way when you haven’t done anything at all. You had no intention of escaping. Running away. Even though you should. Still you were being faithful to your kidnapper which was ridiculous enough. And this?

He thinks he can treat you this way? 

No. You don’t want this. It’s scary and you feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t care for that. Of course, he doesn’t. You’re just his pet after all. Something he can control like a robot. 

You have no right to talk back. No right to fight. No right to express your feelings. 

You eat when he feeds you. You cums when he fucks you. You sit when he asks you. You stay inside when he tells you. You go outside when he decides so. And you go back inside when he wants to. 

Oh, how bad you want to fight. Yet you know you won’t win. You can either walk back with him like a human being or he’d drag you away. You don’t want the second option. This is already humiliating enough. And any excuse you give him won’t work. You don’t know what would come of you trying to fight him. 

Probably you’ll go back in time and you’ll become the less privileged prisoner in his life. There would be no going outs even under the false pretense of a sweet date. You don’t mind the label. Nor do you care how it happens. You want another day like this. Another moment of freedom. 

You have to act wise. 

It’s better to get going with him. Like the obedient pet you are. Yet there’s something inside you that wants to make it a little hard for him. 

“I want to pee.” You take a complete one-eighty turn from your conversation with a sharp inhale. Finally, look at his dark eyes. A surprise flicker across them. 

“What?”

“I need to use a restroom. Let’s go home but I need to pee first. And I haven’t said anything to anyone.” In reality, you have no such need. Just want to make his easy life a little hard. 

“Okay, you will use one when we get home.” Jungkook shrugs and almost turns around when you stubbornly stomp a foot like a toddler.

He controls everything and he wants to control your bodily functions as well? No fuckiny way. 

“I can’t wait that long.” You had made Jungkook abandon driving here because you wanted to feel the chaos of public transport and busy sidewalks. Looks like you’ve made a good choice. Or not. 

“Let me call a ride.” Jungkook fishes for his phone, completely disregarding you. 

“I can’t wait that long, Jungkook.” You huff out as you turn to your left. Toward the nearby mall. “Just let’s go there.” And you don’t wait for him to answer you before you start walking. Even though you’re only able to take only a few steps before his hold on you restricts your movements. You sigh heavily then turn around to look at him again. “I didn’t say anything to anyone…” You take a moment. Contemplating. Decide on the exact right thing to say. “Baby. You need to trust me.” Like you knew that hit the spot. Jungkook’s eyes soften immediately. “Buy me some ice cream. Then let’s go home.” You add like nothing happened. 

It’s Jungkook’s turn to sigh this time. And it’s heavy. Yet he doesn’t stop you this time. Just follows you without another word.

You don’t get to ask. But good pets get treats. 

……………..

You stand in front of the female restrooms. Annoyed. Jungkook isn’t letting go of your hand. Is holding you as if you’d disappear the moment his touch leaves you. 

“You can’t come inside a female restroom, Jungkook.” You roll your eyes. His hold, however, doesn’t loosen even a little bit. Nor does his scowl. His cold gaze is assessing you. You can see the turmoil in him through his eyes. Gears turning. Contemplating. Weighing the options, risks and everything in between. “I told you, you have to trust me, Kookie.”  You place your free hand on his chest. “I’ll be fine,” Push him back a little. He doesn’t even budge. “Go get me that ice cream. I’ll be there within a minute.” 

Another beat passes without changing anything . Just his scrutinizing gaze and dark scowl. Then he drops his hand from you. 

“Which flavor?” Takes a step back and asks out of nowhere that your eyes go wide. You lift your eyebrows in half question and half surprise. That’s not expected. Not so easily after all. 

“Huh?”

“Ice cream? Which flavor do you want, Pretty?" He questions again. Despite his relent, he’s not a hundred percent on board with this. You know it. His face is speaking for him. 

You almost feel bad. 

No… you don’t have to feel bad. Why would you feel bad? 

“You know what I like.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. Jungkook nods. He knows. He knows everything. He’d known them even before you started living with him. 

You expect him to leave you alone to mind your business after that. But of course he has more to say. 

“Don’t take long,” He shoves his hands in his pants pockets. To an untrained eye, this might look normal. Just a man asking a woman to hurry up. Yet you know the underlying weight in those words. “Meet me in NJ.” A silence and there come those words. “Don’t disappoint me.” And he finally turns around and leaves you to it. 

You wait until he disappears around the corner to heave the heavy sigh you’ve been holding in. 

Don’t disappoint me equals don’t try anything. 

Gentle reminder that you’re a prisoner.

Well, nothing you didn’t already know. You turn around with one final breath and push open the restroom door.

For the first time after almost a year, you’re alone. In public. With no Jungkook to breathe down your neck. The feeling nearly brings you to tears that you have to bite down on your tongue to keep the emotions inside. Nothing to celebrate here. You’re just using the restroom and you’ll be going back to Jungkook.

Even though he doesn’t trust you, you never had any ulterior motives other than just being a little stubborn. That’s just the plan and you intend to stick to it. So, you step inside the public facility finally. 

The entire place is completely empty save for a woman washing her hands near the sink despite it being noon and the mall is full. Not that you’re complaining. You don’t want to be in an overcrowded place. 

The woman near the sink raises her head at the sound of your footsteps. Her eyes meet yours through the mirror. She acknowledges you with a curt nod that you return with a small smile.

You’re not supposed to talk to strangers. But Jungkook isn’t here to see that. 

Yes.

He isn’t here.

You can do whatever you want.

A sudden wave of adrenaline shoots across your veins. You stop moving toward a cubicle. Your eyes glued on the woman. 

You can talk to her. This is the first chance you’ve had and it might be the last as well. True, you had no intentions of doing anything else. But you can do it if you want.

You can ask for help. You can tell her your story and ask her to get the police. You can escape. You can at least try.

“Uh, do you need something.” The woman’s voice brings you back to the earth. You gape at her as if you see her for the first time. 

The answer for her question is easy.

Yes. 

You need help.

If there’s someone in this world who needs something so desperately, that’d be you. 

You need to tell her that you were kidnapped by a psychopath almost a year ago and that he kept you locked up in his apartment for all this time. Isolated from the rest of the human race. You need to tell her that the same psychopath is still waiting for you outside and he’s controlling every cell of your body. You need to tell her that you need freedom. You need to escape his vice grip and you need her help for that.

Maybe she’ll recognize you. Maybe you are or you were famous. Someone must’ve filed a complaint that you were missing right? Maybe not your friends or your asshole of an ex. But maybe your family. They love you. At least they did in the past. You might not have lived closely to them in the past few years but they’re still your family. 

But then, what if they didn’t? Or what if they did and in the end they all gave up and now you’re a distant memory to everyone? What if you’re dead to the rest of the world? What if nobody wants you back?

At least you know Jungkook does. He may not let you live a normal life and treat you as an animal. But he’s there waiting for you. He may be a mad man and his love for you might be unhinged yet he wants you, nonetheless.

Right? 

He needs you. 

You have no life beyond this anyway…

“No.” Your voice comes out strained and distant. Even you’re surprised to hear that. The woman turns around to face you with a raised brow in question. You must look crazy, staring at her this way. You quickly snap your gaze away and force yourself to smile. Then bow down in apology. “I’m sorry. It’s uh… I thought you were someone else.” You burst out an explanation. “I’m sorry.” Mumble again before turning around and closing yourself inside a cubicle. 

You did the right thing. Right?

Of course you did. 

You don’t want any more problems in your life. 

…………..

When you return the woman has already gone. There’s a new gang of teenage girls cackling with laughter whom you disregard as you walk out. Your eyes are strictly on your own dress as you smooth out the already perfect, expensive Tencel. 

Jungkook has picked up a habit of buying anything that piques your interest. All you have to do is give it a look and it appears in an excited Jungkook’s hands within weeks. Which is how you got this dress as well.

See, you made the very right decision. True, you don’t have normal things you should, like a job, a mobile, your own money, or anything else to call yours. But you have someone who’s willing to spoil you with food and expensive stuff. 

Even if you had reached that woman earlier and told your story, there was a chance she wouldn’t have believed you. You look nothing like the victim you are. Instead, you look like a spoiled rich heiress with your glowing skin and clothing. 

Yes. You have a good life. Not normal but good. When nobody out here gave a fuck about you, Jungkook did. You’re certain that everyone gave up on you faster than they should. How else did Jungkook manage to keep you hidden for a near year and no one ever came looking for you. You haven’t even seen the news about your sudden disappearance. Yes. Nobody cares so you should stick to the only person who does. 

You hurry your steps, allowing yourself to believe. Believe that the things happening to you are normal. If you believe it hard enough it might come true as well. You exit the hallway and enter the busy food court of the mall, crowded with people. You take a look around to find the flashy sign of the ice cream parlour Jungkook mentioned and start walking toward it. Determined to put what happened earlier behind. 

This is good.

You’ll be good.

You take step after step. Each one hurried more than before. You make it halfway toward your destination when your vision suddenly gets blinded by someone who appears in front of you from nowhere. You get no time to process what’s happening before your body collides with the newcomer, throwing you off course. 

“Holy shit! I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, sorry.”

You both blurt at the same time. Your eyes first land on the plastic bag on the stranger’s hand that drops to the floor following your crash. He picks it up at light speed, beating you to it.

“I’m so sorry,  I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Another apology leaves his lips as he bows down to you just after picking his belongings. You reciprocate the action. Bow down again.

“No really, I wasn’t—” Your words die down on your tongue. You freeze halfway through trying to straighten up back after the deep bow. Every single breath of air leaves your lungs painfully, together with every organ inside your body. Leaving behind an empty skull. 

No this can’t be.

Silver hair. Brown eyes. That cute nose and sinful lips. 

The earlier vanished air returned back to your lungs like a punch to your guts. So hard and so fast that you stumble a step back. 

Jimin!

Park Jimin!

No. This is clearly not him.

But it’s the same person you remembered. With the same silver hair he had on the picture Jungkook showed you. The same Jimin who annoyed you so much back then by always hanging out at your place. The same Jimin who stole your skin care products just because he could. 

Still it can’t be!!!

What are the chances?

The universe must be playing more jokes on you….

“(___)?” 

But then the next word that leaves his mouth solves the problem. It is the same Jimin. 

A sigh of relief and disbelief leaves your lips as you take another step back, shaking your head in denial when it’s clearly your friend Park Jimin. Your ex’s best friend. 

And he looks like he just saw a ghost. Pale. Eyes wide that you worry his eyeballs might pop out. Mouth hanging open. Rightfully so. Yet he’s the one who snaps out of the stupor you both fell into a second ago first. 

“Oh my god, (___)? Jeesus… It’s you, right? Holy fuck…” Jimin shoves a hand through his perfectly styled silver hair. “Fuck, thi-this… shit…” He stumbles on his words. You stay rooted to your spot. Unable to even move a finger when Jimin closes the space between you. His hands land on your shoulders. “Wha-what?… How? I mean… we thought-they thought….” 

Nothing he says makes any sense to you. Not because he’s not making sense—which he is— but because nothing is reaching your brain. A little shake from his side finally pulls you back to reality. 

“(___), hey! You with me? Wha-what happened? How are you here? Where were you? Are you with someone?” Jimin blurts out question after question but that last one specifically manages to hit straight into your brain like an arrow.

You snap your eyes away from the man in front of you to the ice cream store a few meters away from you. Pink and blue name sign and glass walls. You can see the inside perfectly. So you can see the man standing near the cashier. Talking with a flustered girl behind the register. 

Oh, no no no….

You’re not supposed to talk with strangers. Then you’re certainly not supposed to talk with someone you already know. If that someone is Jimin, then definitely not. 

Jungkook’s voice echoes inside your head. 

You won’t want me to just make any of your loved ones hurt now, will you?

He explicitly said so while showing you a picture of the same person who’s standing before you. Back then you believed Jimin did nothing to Jungkook. But now after every secret is out in the open, you know Jungkook has all the reason to hate Jimin. Jimin is the one who ruined it for Jungkook in the first place. All those times ago, in that shitty club. If it wasn’t for Jimin, Jungkook could’ve had you way earlier. 

No. This is bad. 

You turn your gaze back to Jimin. Then back to Jungkook. He’s handing over his credit card to the girl at the cashier. He’d be turning around any minute. And he’ll see you. He’ll see Jimin. 

Bloody chopsticks…

If I have to make him suffer, I have all the reasons to do so. 

Blood. 

Screams. 

Pain…

No. Jungkook will kill Jimin. You know he can and he will. 

You need to go to Jungkook immediately. Your stomach turns awfully, making you regret eating that much food earlier. You’re going to throw up or you’ll faint. 

Not now! You can’t afford that now. Need to distract Jungkook. 

The cashier hands him back his card. 

You look back at Jimin. He is saying something that doesn’t reach your ears. All you can hear is a loud ring. 

“Wh..at…” Ring. “(___)?” Ring. “Who…” Ring….

Your eyes snap to Jungkook again. He takes the card back and pushes it inside his wallet. 

Now!

You have to move now!

You free yourself from Jimin’s grasp without a single word. Already start walking forward like you’re in a dream. 

Please don’t turn around. 

Please don’t…

Not yet… 

Your heart is beating in your throat. You keep your eyes glued to Jungkook while picking up your speed. Jungkook takes the two paper cups full of ice cream in his hands. Turns around halfway–

“(___)?” Jimin’s hand on your shoulder yanks you around to face him as a gust of wind. “What the fuck is going on?” He barks yet somehow managed to lace it with concern. 

No…

You rush to take a look at Jungkook, already fearing his dark gaze. Already knowing that you’re done for. So is Jimin. Yet you only meet with the sight of Jungkook still talking to the cashier. 

You exhale loudly in relief. Then turn to Jimin again. You have no time to explain. 

“I’m fine.” You state aloud. Step away. Fall back into walking again. Jimin follows you closely. You have to stop him. “No, Jimin, please. No.” You stop just to look at his eyes. He looks beyond confused. “Don’t do anything, please. Don’t follow me.” You shake your head in a plea. “I’m fine, I promise you. Not now— Don’t. Just leave, yeah? Please, I beg you.” 

That’s all you manage to say before you finally leave him behind. You don’t even look back to see if he has listened to you. It’s too scary. You just focus on calming down your nerves and slowing down your stupid heart. And of course, putting on a big smile when you finally stand up in front of Jungkook right at the time he turns around with your order. 

“Hey!” You whisper. Jungkook looks surprised for second. Then his boba eyes crinkle adorably, matching his toothy grin. 

“Hey, Pretty. All good?”

You copy his grin. 

Even though you don’t feel it. 

And you nod. 

Even though nothing is good.

…………………….

You can’t do this anymore. You regret every damn decision you made today that led you to this cursed moment. Jungkook was hellbent on leaving mere minutes ago and now the same guy is enjoying his strawberry milkshake ice cream like a two-year-old. Meanwhile you’re struggling to push down a single scoop past your throat. 

The sweet sugary flavor of your chocolate ice cream melts inside your mouth like it’s nothing but ice. You are too nervous to do anything but fidget around like you have invisible ants crawling through your skin. You can’t help it. Can’t help the bobbing of your leg. Can’t help the sudden hotness you’re feeling. Absolutely can’t help but search the premises for the millionth time. 

When you first dared to look back, you had found the spot Jimin stood to be emptied. Your eager eyes hadn’t been able to find him ever since. Which is good, right? Exactly what you wanted. But then why do you feel partially disappointed? Well, this proves you are right about nobody giving a flying fuck about you. True, Jimin looked so concerned, genuinely worried, and deeply relieved to see you. But who knows? That can be just a pretense. You can’t trust anyone in your life at this rate. 

Still, however, you scan your eyes around the food court as discreetly as you can. Looking for one thing and one thing only. 

Silver hair, silver hair, silver hair….

Nothing. 

It’s hard to miss such a distinctive feature. You’re certain he left. Of course, he did. 

Jungkook’s sudden groan brings your wavering attention back to the table. You’re sitting at a table set by the ice cream store outside its glass walls. The man who’s sitting before you groans once again, sounds almost mad, his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. Someone might think the food is as bad as it appears through his expression. In reality, though, you know it’s quite the opposite. 

“This tastes so fucking–”

“Good?” You complete the sentence for him. You need to forget what happened. Need to act like everything was and is fine. 

“Yes,” Jungkook sighs dramatically. “I can’t understand what on earth these amazing fruity flavours had done to you. Why are you hating them with a passion?” He points his spoon at you, bringing up your obvious dislike to indulge in any other flavors besides old boring vanilla and chocolate when it comes to certain food. 

You roll your eyes, trying so hard to stay in the moment. “I don’t hate them. Besides, it’s not just strawberry flavored. It’s strawberry milkshake and it’s too–”

“Sugary,” This time Jungkook fills up for you. Damn, you two know each other too well. “I know. Chocolate is sugary too.” He argues. You open your mouth to counter back, straightening up and eyes landing on his face. 

“That’s not the sa–” You almost choke on your words when your eyes catch a flash of silver behind Jungkook. You take a double look. 

Silver hair, silver hair, silver hair. 

There he is. 

Jimin. Fuck. He hasn’t left. A bubble of relief, disappointment, and happiness stirs your inside at the same time. Just for second, though. 

“Pretty?” Every emotion inside you morphs into blind fear. “You okay?” Jungkook almost takes a look behind him. 

“Uh huh.” You nod furiously. “That's so… not the same thing.” You resume your conversation instantly. Fortunately for you that makes Jungkook abandon looking back at where you looked and pay attention to win the argument. He says something more to which you don’t pay any mind. You hear it, you do. And you answer him. Yet your mind is completely on the guy with silver hair. You do your best not to risk it by glancing at the direction again. Only to fail at the task. Your eyes work on their own as you chance another glance while Jungkook is too engrossed in his ice cream. 

Jimin stands exactly where he was a minute ago. But this time he is on a phone call. Talking with someone frantically. As if trying to convince someone that the sun is rising from the west. Something not believable at all. Like him meeting you in a random mall on a normal wednesday. 

You know what he’s saying to whoever that’s on the phone.

Wait….

Who’s the person on the other end though?

Police?

Your throat suddenly goes dry. Your full attention is back on Jungkook. Out of everything the police raiding this place and dragging Jungkook away is the last thing you want. Or you don’t want that all. You’ve lived with this person too long to be able to let that happen.

Fuck, you should get out of here. 

But what if Jimin is calling someone else. His best friend for example. 

If you thought your mouth went dry earlier, now you feel like you ate sand. The police aren't the worst case scenario here but Daebi is. You don’t know how and when people in your life played the part to put you in a hell hole of misery. You, however, for sure know the part Daebi played. If Jimin is calling Hoseok or Daebi then she’s going to let Jungkook know. 

And you’ll be dead. No. No, Jungkook would never kill you because among everything you’re the one thing Jungkook can’t live without. But he can stay true to his promise. He can ruin everyone else in your life. 

You have to get out of here.

You’re just about to spill out a blatant lie and ask to leave when Jungkook’s phone on the table vibrates, making you jolt in your seat. Blood drains out of your veins. You’re sure you turn into the color of ash completely. 

Oh god no. 

Is that her?

Is everything over?

Jungkook picks up the phone leisurely, his face giving no hint at who the caller is and your attempt to take a look at the caller ID fails even before you can act upon it. 

You suck in a harsh breath, hold it inside your poor lungs as you wait for the inevitable. The milliseconds between Jungkook answering the phone and bringing it to his ear, passes as if it’s eons. 

This is it…

Daebi is going to tell him that you met Jimin…

Jungkook is going to kill—

“Hello!” Jungkook speaks to the phone. “I thought I informed you that I’m on leave today Mr. Seong.” 

The breath you’ve been holding escapes your lungs like a tidal wave, leaving your whole body relaxed.

You’re saved for a second time today.

Maybe the universe is on your side after so many years of tortures and pain.

Jungkook sighs in annoyance at something the other person said. Then he mouths ‘one minute, Pretty’ as he gets up from the table. Walk a few feet away from you. 

He has always been discreetive about his work. Not lying but not giving you a direct answer every time you asked about it. You know he’s a genius and he’s rich. Whatever he’s doing, it’s probably illegal. That much you’ve figured. As his pet, you don’t get to share his life. You just receive what he gives you. You don’t know since when you started caring about that. 

You force yourself to tear your gaze from the brown haired man to the silver haired one, who's also on his phone. Talking with someone much more animatedly than Jungkook. Looks more frustrated. 

You may have gotten another chance but the danger is still here. There’s still a possibility Jimin is calling Daebi or the police. You don’t know how you’re going to stop Jungkook from receiving a call from Daebi. But at least you can come up with something if you get out of here. Yes, you need to get the hell out here. 

Right?

Go back to the apartment. Your luxurious prison. 

Something clogs in your throat at the prospect. 

It doesn’t matter. You have no other choice anyway, do you? 

Jimin turns his head toward you. Your eyes meet. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite understand. Is that desperation? Is that a beg? What does he want? Does he want you to stay?

You have no other options, right?

You keep your eyes on Jimins. 

Options.

What if… just what if…. 

Universe on your side today. You finally made it to this day. What are the chances of meeting Jimin on this very specific day? What are the chances of him staying? You already wasted a chance of getting help earlier because you believe you have no one else. Because it seemed like something that wasn’t worth the trouble. But what if… what if you’re not alone after all. What if this is a chance? 

Your ears are back on ringing. You feel like you can’t breathe. As if there’s something inside you that keeps inflating, pressing all your organs and bones to your skin. You’ll explode any minute now.

Jungkook is still on the phone. Is facing the opposite side from you. 

Jimin is still on the phone. Is directly looking at you.

What are you gonna do?

What are your options?

Should you give up? Walk back with Jungkook to your same old life. It is good, right? That life. You have food, clothes, books, and everything else Jungkook can buy for you. 

You sweep your eyes over the busy mall.

Then you don’t have anything these people have. Most importantly you don’t have freedom. Your situation is far worse than being a pet. Even pets have more freedom than you. 

Are you willing to keep living that way? You swear you wanted to escape. You swear letting Jungkook in was just temporary. All you wanted was relief and it came through an abundance of orgasms. Then when have things changed? Since when did you decide to become his pet? How come you let yourself get lost in Jungkook. The same person who drugged you back in an illegal underground club. The same person who almost murdered a man in front of you. Brutally so. The same person who created a whole damn app to torment you. The same fucking person who kidnapped you and kept you locked in for nearly a year. 

Maybe it’s the sudden rage inside you. Or it’s the frustration you kept up inside for months. Whatever that is, you surprise yourself when you stop a passerby girl out of the blue.

“Hey, sorry. Do you have a pen I can use?” You blurt out impolitely. The girl looks so taken aback for a minute before she shrugs and fishes inside her bag. She says nothing nor does she wait for you to thank her properly as she hands you over a black pen and walks away. 

You don’t waste time to ponder about the nice stranger. You don’t have time. You just grab your half empty disposable ice cream cup. Do your utmost best to keep your hand steady as you start to scrawl across the pinkish surface.

You have no plan. You don’t know what you’re doing. Just know this might be your last chance. 

Meet me again the same placesame day nect week. don’t tell anyone else. Please. 

Your handwriting is a mess. It’s okay. It’s readable. You’re about to cap the pen and proceed to the next step when something else comes to your mind. 

You jump into adding more to the stupid note you scrawl across the cup.

And nopolice Jimin. I don’t want the police. Please I beg.

You don’t know what you exactly want. But for sure you know you never want Jungkook behind bars. Odd, yes. A you from a year ago would’ve thrived at the prospect of him going to jail. A lot has changed since and you don’t want Jungkook to suffer. Not anymore. 

With that you replace the cap on the pen back and throw it under the table without a care. Grab your ice cream cup in your hand just before Jungkook hangs up the call and walks to you, wearing an apologetic expression.

“I’m so sorry baby but this idiot—” He starts.

“It’s okay. I get it. We can leave.” You cut him off with a soft smile on your face while your insides are on fire. Your limbs are trembling so badly. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook steps closer to you. You curl your hand instinctively around your ice cream cup. Forcing yourself to stay steady. Relax. “Are you sure?” Jungkook kneels in front of you. Rubs your knee. 

You fight the urge to take your leg away. Not because his touch repulses you. It’s more because you feel like a snake. A bitch. 

“It’s okay. I know you have to work. I’m tired anyway.” You ease his worries with the same smile on your face. Oh, you’re a goddamn better actress than you thought. Jungkook smiles at you fondly. 

“That’s why I love you.” He stands up again. Goes for his ice cream cup. You beat him to it. 

“It’s okay, I’ll throw them away. Just call a ride for us.” You stand up as well, taking both half empty ice cream cups. Jungkook takes just a split second to respond which feels like an hour to you. 

“Okay.” He nods. Still smiling. Doesn’t question you. Just pecks your lips. You let him and finally make your way to the nearby trash can placed by the same store. You drop Jungkook’s ice cream cup into the bin. 

Okay, here you go.

You’re doing it.

You don’t dare to look around you as you empty the now gooey contents in the cup to the bin. Then you let the cup fall to the ground. Turn around. 

You can’t feel your legs. Can’t feel your hands. Your heart is beating too fast. This doesn’t feel real. Chatters of people. The music from various stores, they all sound like a dream. 

You did it. 

Now all you can do is pray. Pray that Jungkook hasn’t noticed what you’ve done. Pray that someone else might not take the empty cup of ice cream and throw it in the bin. Pray that Jimin has noticed what you did and he’ll read it. And among everything that he’ll listen to you.

If everything goes right, you will have to convince Jungkook to bring you here next week as well. You’ll find a way and you’ll worry about it later. 

For now, you just let your legs move your body toward Jungkook, who looks—fortunately—oblivious to what has happened. You let your limp body lean against him and let him take you home.

Home.

………………..

It’s been two days since your date. Two days since you met Jimin. Surprisingly or not, things have been oddly calmed ever since. No feared calls from Daebi or someone else to tip your meeting with Jimin off to Jungkook or anything else to make your life miserable. That means one of two things. Either Jimin listened to you or Daebi no longer wanted to meddle in your life. 

You haven’t made a decision about what to do on the expected day, however. When you scrawled that note over a paper cup of ice cream you haven’t really thought it through, to be honest. You just acted on impulse. The pressure that there’d be no other chances had pushed you to take the only one you had. That’s the reason for you to take a step on. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep going, however. You’re allowed to take that step back again. Which you’re contemplating. After your nerves have calmed down and the thrill of the moment faded, you’re no longer sure about your abilities to pull this through.

There are a million things that can go wrong and above all there’s a hard weight inside you. A pain. A mixture of guilt and hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong in reality. You’re simply doing what you should’ve done a long time ago. But still you feel like you’re betraying Jungkook. It’s hard to shake off the feeling. The pain has been draining you out for the past two days to a point you have no energy left in you anymore. 

You sigh heavily, giving up on your boring fantasy book. That catches Jungkook’s attention who’s been hunched over his laptop across from you on the couch. You’re half sitting and half liying on the couch at opposite ends, facing each other. Both of your backs pressed against the arm rests. You have your legs draped over Jungkook’s while he’s resting his feet under your butt.

“What?” Jungkook peers at you over the laptop. You rush to put your indifferent very normal face up. You’re doing a great job at it apparently.  Jungkook hasn’t picked up anything off of you yet. Maybe if you were able to actually escape this, you should consider an acting career. 

“Mmm… nothing.” You offer him a sweet smile. Jungkook just raises his brow. Less convinced. “What?” So you have to question it. 

“I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one who’s sighing like your dog died.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with amusement. You roll your eyes. Playfully.

“Oh, c’mon… you can pay attention to your work Jeon. Let me be.” 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head to the side, then shrugs. “Okay then, I was about to ask if you’re bored and maybe…..” 

“Yes,” You jump in, throwing your book away. “This book is so damn boring.” 

Jungkook chuckles aloud. “Is it now?” 

“It is.”

“What should we do about it? Read another book?” He puts his laptop away as well. An involuntary pout appears on your lips. 

“Guess what? Never mind…” You try to reach your book which is now on the floor when you feel the soft touch in your ankle. You don’t even get to proceed what's happening before you’re being yanked forward by your foot. 

“Kook!” You squeal in terror at the unexpected movement. 

“Yes, Pretty?” Jungkook, however, looks unphased and calmed. Just smiles at you wickedly. “You said you’re bored and I can’t let that happen now, can I?” 

Your mouth goes dry making you wet your lips. A bubble of anticipation comes alive in your stomach. 

“I have to do something.” Jungkook keeps talking as you don’t respond to him. Simply because one touch from him is causing your brian to malfunction. He brings your foot up. Up toward his mouth. You watch in excitement as he inches his lips toward your foot. Then his lips touch the skin of your foot heel. A feathery light kiss. Enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“Jungkook,” You sigh quietly. “Don’t do that.” Your words only cause his smile to widen.

“Do what?” He asks coyly. “This?” Gives another kiss, making your breath hitch and back arch. “Or this?” Licks a path up your heel to your toes.

“Kookie…” You moan breathlessly. Jungkook ignores you.

“Or this?” Instead he keeps teasing you. He drags your foot down this time. Places it on his chest and drags down through the expanses of his board chest, and abs. Straight toward his crotch. He presses your foot into his hardening cock. You feel the warmth radiating through the flimsy material of his pajama pants. Nothing underneath. 

You both have been lazing around since the morning, not even bothering to get out of your sleep wears. Which appears to be a good idea at this moment.

“Oh fuck!” You visibly shiver at the feeling. Your soft moan gets drowned by the groan Jungkook lets out, his head tipping back. 

“Yes,” He breathes out after spending a split second with his eyes closed and head fallen back. Then his eyes are on you. “You want me to stop doing this, Pretty?” He cocks an arrogant brow. 

You shake your head furiously. All the worries about impending decisions and escapes disappear from your mind. Here you go again. What’s wrong with you? Are you brain dead? Has he broken you and trained you into a perfect little slut who gets horny instantly, just with a touch by him. Oh, wait, he hasn’t even touched you though. Is just pleasuring his cock with your foot and your cunt is already making a mess. 

“Answer me, baby? You want me to stop this?” Jungkook starts rubbing your foot on his cock, making you feel the way he gets hard within a minute. 

“N-no,” You stutter out, getting more and more excited by every passing second. 

“Of course, you don’t… you’re a slut, after all.” Jungkook mocks you before dropping your foot down. His words shoot directly to your pussy, making you clench your thighs together. “Go on then, do what you have to do.” Jungkook leisurely leans against the arm rest, no longer touching you. 

You beat a few seconds in painful contemplation about what you should do. Just a few. You’re too impatient to wait any longer. It’s with a pounding heart that you finally move your foot again toward his waistband. It takes you a few minutes of struggle to pull down his waistband to free his cock when Jungkook doesn’t do much to help you besides eventually lifting his hips up a bit. You manage to succeed in the end. You free his cock just using your foot and you waste no time in pressing your sole back in his cock. This time with no barrier to separate your skins. Just his painfully hard cock throbbing at each rub of your foot against him. 

“Shit, Pretty.” Jungkook sighs dreamily, his eyes locked into the way you’re playing with his cock. “You’re doing so good, princess. Keep going…. Yes, like that, fuck…” His words encourage you to slowly be more bold and start to jerk him off. Occasionally gliding your toes over his red tip, driving him crazy. You keep up the good work for a few more seconds before Jungkook gets tired of it and demands more. Of course, he does and you love it. 

“Show me your cunt.” He barks out of nowhere making your movements falter. Your skin has already been on fire but now you’re almost melting onto the couch. He’s doing it too well. Too good. He knows how to make you lose it.  You can’t even swallow to soothe your dry throat. 

You ask no questions or don't let him repeat as your hand goes to bunch up your flimsy night dress up to your waist. Just like him, you have nothing underneath your dress to save your modesty. 

“I asked you to show me your cunt, slut. Spread.”

Oh, your head is spinning. You can cum just from this. You put your free leg which isn’t on his cock over the backrest of the couch, giving him a perfect view of your soaked cunt. 

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook’s breath hitches. And he loses control. He grips your foot so tight that you worry he might break you. He keeps his eyes on your cunt, starting to jerk himself off with your foot. “Goddamnit, look how fucking wet you are…” He says mostly to himself than to you through clenched teeth. “Fucking slut, you know this is all you’re good at right? Hm?” Presses your foot more into him. Picks up the speed even more. “Hm? All you’re good at is being a little slut. A cocksleeve. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

Fuck, you can’t do this anymore. Your body is melting like butter. You have no bones in your body. Your cunt aches. Badly. 

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Daddy…” Your voice hoarse with lust. 

You absolutely cannot do it anymore.

With your admission you bring your hand between your legs. Not being able to control the burn. The wanton need. Yet you only get to brush your fingertips over your aching clit before you’re being manhandled for a second time within the hour. This time, though, it is harsher and faster. One moment, you’re jerking Jungkook off with your foot and the next, the man is hovering over you, with a dangerous glint in his eyes, with your hands being pinned next to either side of your head. 

“Did I say you can fucking touch you?” Jungkook’s low growl graces your lips, sending tingles all across your body. You fall into a haze under his burning gaze that you fail to reply. Jungkook doesn’t like it, however. “Did,” He lowers his face even more towards you. “I,” You don’t think you’ve ever heard anything more dangerous than his voice right now. “Say, you can touch what’s mine, baby? You better answer me.” 

Your brain is short circuiting and you’re too nervous to answer. But you’ve played the game too many times to learn the ropes by now. So, you force your brain to comprehend. 

“Nn-no, da-daddy?” Even with your words your hips are moving in their own accord, trying to find any kind of friction on Jungkook’s body. 

Fuck, is it even possible to be this needy?

Luckily for you, Jungkook ignores your pathetic attempts. Instead of wasting his time over it, he clicks his tongue. Disappointed. 

“You need to learn a lesson, baby. You’re always too fucking needy and impatient. And you don’t know how to listen.” With that he gets off from you. You panic like you’ve just found the world has disappeared. Ridiculous but it is what it is. “Don’t move.” Jungkook instructs. You listen this time. Not wanting to be in any more trouble. You wait patiently without even moving a finger until he walks away inside the room and returns. With a tie on his hand. 

Like that, you know what’s going to happen. You have all types of toys you can think of. So do you the cuffs and silk ropes but he has chosen a tie. Less forgiving. He wants you to suffer. You don’t feel an ounce of fear, though. All excitement that drips down into the leather couch in liquid form. 

Jungkook is scary and you’re scared of him. But when it comes to sex, you’re no longer afraid of him. Even without a safe word, you know he’s going to take care of you. 

You stare at him expectantly as he makes it to the couch again. “Sit up.” Another command that you comply with like a good obedient girl. “Hands behind your back.” You do as he says and wait, burning with arousal as he ties your hands up together. Behind your back, tight and secured that you can’t move them an inch. Jungkook pulls away and faces you after he’s satisfied with his work. 

He caresses your cheek softly. You lean into the soft touch. “You good, Pretty?” Questions. You nod. “Yeah? You gonna listen to me?” He asks again to which he gets another nod. An eager one. Yet he looks dissatisfied. “Can I trust you?” Jungkook adds. And like that the air goes still. The question hangs heavy in the air. All the fire inside you dies down like he has doused a cold bucket of water on you. 

No. He can’t trust you. 

You have something bad hidden behind your back. A secret. A nasty plan. You betrayed his trust and are planning to worsen it. The guilty feeling returns tenfold. So unbearable and painful that you almost spill the truth. Then his voice saves you right at the time. “ Huh, Pretty? You can’t talk? Answer me slut.” 

Of course, he’s just asking a question. A question that’s suitable for this moment. Why are you beating yourself over it? Besides, you’re doing nothing wrong. 

Yes, nothing wrong. 

You deserve your life back. 

You gulp harshly before answering. 

“You can, Daddy.” Your voice is meek and barely audible but it does the job. Jungkook hums in satisfaction. Sits back. 

“ I can?” He purses his lips in thought for a moment. “You sure? Maybe we should test it?” Raises a brow. You stay silent but your face must be speaking of your confusion. “ C’mon, up.” Jungkook doesn’t clarify anything. Just aids you in getting to your feet. “Let’s see if you can listen, baby.” He lowers you into the ground. Into your knees. You happily kneel in front of him. Expecting that this is about a fantastic blowjob. Only that your hope dies a quick death. Not that you complain, though. “Besides, I should return the favor, right?” Jungkook deliberately sneaks his foot between your legs. You couldn't have controlled moaning even if you tried. 

“You gave me a freaking good foot job, didn’t you baby?” Jungkook keeps mocking you, while proceeding to push his foot further into your cunt. You instinctively lower your body to get more. “I should return the favor now, go on slut, grind.” 

That’s all you need. Within a blink, you’re rocking your hips back and forth, your eyes nearly rolling back in your skull. This is demeaning in a way you can’t even fathom. You’ve done similar things before like riding his shoe. But you’ll never get used to the feeling. It’s degrading and embarrassing. It makes you want to crawl into a hole and die, which is exactly what that arouses you so much. The fire inside you is constantly growing. With each rock of your hips and each rub of your clit against his skin. 

It’s not an easy task. Not with your hands tied behind your back. Your arms are itching to get more help by grabbing onto something. It’d be far easier if you can hold onto Jungkook’s leg. More help means more pleasure. Unfortunately, that’s not an option and you’d have to do with what you have. So you do. Your skin is heated and sweating. Thin strap of your night dress falling down through one shoulder, spilling one of your tits. More embarrassing. More arousing. 

Jungkook is sitting there unphased by everything. Even more arousing. You can’t decide what’s hotter. His indifference or the fact that you can visibly see his cock jump inside his poor excuse of a pants with every rub of you. Maybe both. In their own way. 

You have no idea how long you’ve been rubbing your cunt on his foot. Probably lesser than you think. It’s getting better, though. Better and better. You can’t even breathe. You let your head fall forward, your forehead resting on Jungkook’s knee. Cry after cry leaves your lips. 

“Kook… oh please…. Daddy…” You don’t know what you’re saying. You just babble for the sake of it. Lost in your own world. Jungkook’s sudden voice snaps you out of that world. You raise your head to look at him when he speaks.

“Such a good slut, baby.” He pets your hair, making you rock your hips even faster. “Yes, you are…” He cooes. “But this is a test, remember? You need to prove that you’ll listen to me.” A wicked grin appears on his face. That can’t be good. Oh, no this is not going to be good. You almost start crying already, giving him the best puppy eyes you can muster to no avail. He pulls out the next words in agonizing satisfaction. “You get a minute to cum, whore,” He bends down to your height, staring directly at your eyes. “If you don’t, you won’t get to cum today at all.” 

Your brain fails to make sense of his words. What does he mean?

“No, no what?” 

Jungkook stares at you as if you’re the dumbest thing he’s ever seen. 

“You don’t get to cum if you don’t cum within a minute, (___).” He repeats softly and slowly as if you’re a toddler. He takes his phone in hand next, without any further ado. You stare up at his face as he sets up the timer. Probably for a minute. After setting it he throws the phone away, nudges your cunt even more with his foot, reminding you what’s at stake. 

You waste a second before snapping out of it and starting to grind again. With more precision. How humiliating is this? You believe it will never get more humiliating than this. Having to cum within a minute by grinding on his foot? Oh no, this is the worst. Unless of course, if you don’t get to cum. 

You shut your eyes and reopen them. You need to look at his face. In his all glory but wearing a bored expression. You need to feel even more humiliated to speed up this process. It’s working. Yeah, it is. You’re getting so close. 

Closer and closer. You can totally do this. Even with your arms starting to ache after being pushed back for too long. One more rub. One more—

The sound of the timer going off startles you so bad that your movements come to a halt abruptly. It takes you a long minute to realize what just happened. 

“No…” You whine pathetically when Jungkook smirks sinfully. Of course, the bastard knew what he was doing. He knew you wouldn’t be able to cum within the time frame. “No, kook…. Daddy please…” Your desperate pleas fall in deaf ears. Jungkook yanks you up by your forearm. Throws you into the couch like you’re nothing but a ragdoll. 

“See, you don’t listen,baby. Such a nasty slut. All you care about is cuming, Pretty.” He draws away from you just to remove his clothing. “Don’t you?” He places himself between your already spread legs. “Don’t you?” He asks again, followed by a chaste kiss to your lips. Stark contrasts to how he’s talking to you and what he’s about to do to you. 

You shake your head in denial. 

“No?” Jungkook’s smile should be in jail. It should be illegal to smile like that. You shake your head in answer yet again. “Didn’t think you’d be a liar too, Princess.” He shakes his head in disappointment. You try to talk. Say that it’s not true. Only for your words to turn into screams when Jungkook enters you out of nowhere. No warnings. Not even a sign he’s about to stretch you out. Good thing you’re a dripping mess and he slides in easily. He bottoms out inside you with that one thrust. Groans. A painful groan. “Damn, (___). Shit, feel so good, pretty.”

You acknowledge him with a moan torn between a cry. 

“Kookie… baby…” You try to focus your blurry gaze on his face. 

“Yes, baby? What do you need? Want me to fuck you so hard? Does this slutty cunt needs to be fucked so bad?”

“Please…” You push your hips into his, fucking yourself with his cock. “Oh god, please… move…” 

“Yeah? You want that? Okay, got it.” Jungkook places his hands behind your knees. Pushes your legs toward your torso. Goes into his knees. Allows you just one more minute to get ready before he gives you exactly what you asked for. He starts slow. Withdraws his cock almost away from your aching cunt before ramming forward. Slow and deep. Hits all the good spots inside you. Causing more and more arousal to seep out through your weeping hole, making a mess out of both of you. 

“Hard-harder… Kook… more.” Your arms are aching so bad. The urge to grab on to his neck or arms is overwhelming. The urge to touch him whichever way you can is unbearable. He doesn’t give a fuck about that, however. You’re happy at least he starts to pick up his speed.

“Yeah? Want it hard?” 

You nod. Being too lost in it. 

“Yeah? Like this?” Jungkook gives you a hasher thrust. You wail in pure pleasure. You don’t know whether you’ve replied or not but before you know it, he’s pounding you into the couch. The shameless sounds of skin slapping gets drowned under your embarrassingly loud screams. Neighbors must be hating him so much. Neither of you care. No. Everyone can hate you but this is too good.

You’re drooling. 

You’re crying. 

You feel like you’re floating on clouds. 

Then to make the matters worse or impossibly better, Jungkook kisses your ankle. Once then twice. You watch in awe as he suddenly wraps his lips around your toe. 

Oh god. 

You really thought it wouldn’t get any better. It can’t get this better. Where would you go after this? How would you become normal after this? 

“Jungkook… holy fuck…. No, I—”

Jungkook lets go of your toe with a pop. 

“Good? Do you feel good slut?” 

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. 

“Look how fucking greedy your filthy cunt is?” 

You clench around him violently. The orgasm he robbed from you is rebuilding inside you with ten times more intensity. 

“Like that, you useless whore. Take me like that.” 

Your back arches, hips thrusting up to meet his pounding halfway even with your movements are limited without your arms. 

You’re going to cum. Hard. 

The coil inside you is tightening rapidly. 

“Oh, fuck… Jungkook. I— I’m… fuck I’ll—”

“Cum?” Jungkook saves you from the trouble of verbalizing. “Is that it? You gonna cum?” His hand flies to your throat. A very familiar dance by now. You love the way his grip on your neck makes you lightheaded. He knows it too. The pressure on your throat makes your thighs tremble. Pulling you even closer to the edge. 

The coil is tightening and tightening and—

“What did I say, pretty?” Jungkook’s voice reaches you from another dimension. His hold on you doesn’t ease a bit. Nor does the power of his thrusts. “You don’t get to cum today.” Those words pull you back into earth from the haze you were floating in. The coil inside you fades away. 

Fuck, you forgot. 

And you thought it was just a meaningless threat. 

Just said for the sake of the moment. 

Apparently, you are very wrong. When Jungkook says something, he means it. 

But no. You can’t endure another edge. Not today. 

“No, no, please no. I’ll be a good girl I promise.” Words escape your mouth even without your knowledge. Words you’d rather die than say in another situation. 

“Too late for that.” Jungkook barks. And you prepare yourself for the inevitable. Jungkook fucks you even harder. Squeezes your throat just perfectly. Like how you love it. The coil starts to tighten again. Tighter and tighter. You close your eyes to endure the ache of your orgasm that would melt away when he’s going to stop. 

Now!

Jungkook picks up his speed. Your eyes snap open in surprise. 

“Don’t cum.” Then he throws the bomb on you.

What now?

“Hold it. Do you hear me?” Jungkook shakes your head using your neck. “Don’t fucking cum. I swear to god if you cum, (___)….” 

The rest of his words slip into thin air. Your mind is already occupied with what he said and how impossible it is. 

You’re going to cum. Now. But Jungkook isn’t playing. 

No. You can’t cum.

Okay, think about something else. Distract. 

Biscuits. 

Cake.

Jungkook picks up the pace even more. Deliberately fucking you so delicious.

This isn’t going to work…

Cats.

Cute puppies. 

You reel when Jungkook’s free hand lands between your parted legs. Fingertips touching the spot that you don’t want him to touch at this moment.

What an asshole!!!

“No…. Fuck, Kook… I’ll…. That’s-n-not fair….”

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook starts circling your clit. Almost furiously. Matching with his harsh but impossibly pleasurable thrust. 

“No.. p-please I’ll- I…Kook… cum…”

“No!” His pace turns even harder if it’s possible. So do his fingers. “Hold it. Don’t cum.”

You’ll die. 

“You’re my fuck toy, baby. Toys don’t cum, do they?” 

You shake your head. This is good. His words make it even better or worse in this case. He’s not helping at all.

“You’re just my cum dump. That’s all you’re good at, aren’t you?” 

You nod, tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

“Then be a good toy, pretty. Take my cock, yeah? Take it and don’t cum. Take-it-like-that.” He accentuates his words with deep strokes. “Take it. Yes fuck… take my load in this fucking cunt. Such a good slut… yes you are. My fucking cock—”

That seals the deal for you. The coil snaps even though you’re doing your best to hold it. You fail miserably as your back arch. An almost inhumane cry leaves your throat. Your vision turns blind, white spots appearing behind your closed eyelids. You’re certain that you’ve lost consciousness for a second because when you reopen your eyes next it feels like you’ve reborn into a new world, with no memory about what happened. It leaves you confused when you find Jungkook spilling curse after curse with his eyes strictly watching at your pussy. He has removed himself from you.

You raise your head the best you can to see what’s happening. To your equal horror and surprise you find the mess. Wet. Everything is wet. You. Jungkook. The couch. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot, baby. You squirted.” Jungkook mumbles mindlessly like a mad man. 

You squirted.

You’ve never done so.

Another one of many first times that he stole. You can’t bring yourself to be mad, however. You expect Jungkook to be mad. You didn’t listen to him, after all. Yet apparently your intense orgasm has made him lose his mind. He says no another word as he enters you back again, making you grind your teeth in oversensitivity. Making your whole body tremble. Making you cry aloud.

“I know, I know baby…. I’m close…” Jungkook shushes you softly. Starts fucking you but is far more gentle. “Gonna cum soon kay? Hold on for me, princess. So close… so-fuck-gonna fill you… fuck, (___)…” Jungkook stills his hips. You feel the way his cock twitches violently. Feel the way your insides go all hot with his seeds spilling inside you, throwing you into another euphoria. Light but pleasurable. 

That was insane, wasn’t it? And you’ll never have this again. 

Do you really want to escape this?

Yes. Fuck yes.

You snap your eyes closed in annoyance. It’s just your hormones speaking. You can’t make life decisions based on good orgasms. Nothing matters. No….

You lay there boneless until Jungkook pulls away from you, unties your hands and drags you into his lap. Nothing really makes sense to you as he starts caressing your arms. 

“Are you good, Pretty?” 

You only hum in answer. 

“Hey! Baby, talk to me…fuck!” His arms around you tightens as he pulls you closer to his naked body. You hum in answer, yet again. You have no energy left to talk. Jungkook kisses your forehead. So gently. So lovingly. 

He’s so gentle, isn’t he?

He loves you, isn’t he?

Who was the last person who touched you so tenderly? Genuinely? Just because they wanted to touch you? 

Are you really gonna leave this?

Fuck!

You can’t let this happen. No. No, you have to stay on your ground.

“Can we go on another date? I want to eat that ice cream again.” Your weak voice comes out of nowhere. Everything falls into silence. Even the sound of Jungkook’s soft breathing comes to a stop. And he stills like a predator sensing a threat. You almost become convinced that you either fell asleep or gone deaf when he finally speaks. 

“You wanna go out again?” There’s no surprise or annoyance in his voice. Good sign. You lift your head to look at his face. He isn’t looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the black screen of the TV. Is poking the inside of his cheek.

You can’t read him and that’s scary. You need to know what’s happening inside his brain. 

“Y-yes… I mean we didn’t get to finish the ice cream and I was being good, wasn’t I? I- ugh… you know what, never mind.” You drop your head back into his chest. You have to play wise. If you try to persuade him more than necessary, it might come out suspiciously. If he says no, then you’ll try again tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow or—

“Okay.” Jungkook mumbles softly.

What?

You try to lift your head again to look at him but he prevents you from doing so with his cheek rubbing on the top of your head. 

“Okay?” So you opt to question.

“Mhm… let’s go have your ice cream. When do you want to go? Today?”

Fuck! Maybe you panicked and asked this out too early. 

“No… not today. I’m so tired.” 

“Tomorrow?”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Jungkook says nothing for that but you feel him nodding. Okay, you totally fucked this up. All you can do now is just put it out and hope for the best. “How about next week? You can take me out once a week, you know?” You do your best not to tense up. If he agrees, you can make sure which day you’re going out. There's a fifty percent chance that this might work or not. 

“Once a week? That’ll be a damn headache.” Jungkook chuckles softly. You have to bite your tongue so you won’t sigh in relief. You're good. He’s not suspecting your stupid antics. 

“C’mon, you know that I behave.” You nuzzle more into his chest. A moment passes. Then there it comes.

“Okay. Anything you want, pretty.” 

Anything you want!!!

……………

The days have been rolling too fast and too slow.  You’ve been nothing but a bundle of nerves for the past few days. Making sure you’re going out on a Wednesday just like the previous week turns out to be surprisingly easy. All you had to do was simply ask “how bout Wednesday?” and Jungkook was all down. 

Everything is going smoothly so far. Yet you’re as excited as a cow about to get slaughtered. You blame the lack of enthusiasm on the nerves. The trepidation of things going wrong, though deep down you know that’s not the only cause. Nerves? Yes, they are because of the anxiety. But how about the pain? The guilt. 

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake off the guilt. The pain only grew stronger every time Jungkook smiled at you. With those stars in his eyes. You almost changed your mind more than once. It was a constant loop of changing your mind and then reminding why you should leave.

Remind yourself that you’re the victim and Jungkook isn’t the lover boy he pretends to be.

Still, though, you feel like a girlfriend who cheated on her ever so sweet, loyal and loving boyfriend as you stand in front of the illuminated sign of NJ. 

You had faked a stomach ache. Lured Jungkook into a blowjob and an intense fuck session to make sure you arrive here late afternoon. 

You made it here right on time. Or roughly right on time. It’s been more than twenty minutes since you’ve been eating a cup of ice cream that tastes like ashes for a second time of your life. No silver haired man has appeared in any corner of the food court, however. 

Every passing second without something happening is pulling you into a frenzy. You’re torn between wanting to see Jimin here and not wanting to see him at the same time. 

There are loads of things that can go wrong.

What if you panicked and blew this up before Jimin shows up?

What if Jungkook notices something weird?

What if you get caught?

What if Jungkook does something bad to Jimin?

What if, what if, what if…

Maybe this whole idea is ridiculous. Maybe you’re not strong enough to do this. Maybe Jimin will never show up. Maybe he never got your note. Or he just ignored your call for help. 

Out of all the possibilities, the last one is looking more appealing to you right now. 

Going back home with Jungkook seems easy enough.

Yes.

Maybe you should do that.

No more hassles like this. 

Your scared brain and nerves that are on fire nearly convince you to do exactly that when your eyes finally land on the flash of silver you equally dreaded and anticipated.

You hold the wooden, disposable spoon so hard that it snaps with an easy pop, making Jungkook startle a bit as he pays you attention from his phone.

He’s been texting a client this whole time. You were grateful for that. It gave you enough space to be the ball of anxiety you are. 

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” Jungkook furrows his brows. 

“N-nothing, I just held it a bit too tight.” You do your best to smile. It’s really hard to keep your focus unwavering. All you saw was a flash of silver. It could be anything. It could be someone else. You need verification. You need to know it’s Jimin. Unfortunately, you can’t. 

“Why would you do that?” Jungkook cocks a brow this time.

“I- uh- I don’t know. Wait I’ll just—” You stand up halfway from your chair when Jungkooks stops you. 

“No. Wait, I’ll go and grab another one for you.”

You nod and fall back into your chair. Fine by you to be honest. You wait patiently until he disappears inside the store to start scanning your surroundings. Like a mad woman. Your heart beating against your ribcage as if they’re sworn enemies. You sweep your eyes around. Like you did a week before. Over every person. Every head. Children and adults. Men and women. Black and blonde hair. Until…

Silver hair.

He came.

Your eyes meet Jimin’s. Maybe not you, but Jimin definitely sighs. Heavily. Like he couldn’t breathe until this very moment. In another time, you would’ve been touched by the act. Not now, though. You don’t know what you should do next. You really didn’t have a plan honestly. You threw a note at Jimin without knowing what’s next. Not even knowing if he would find it or trust you enough to follow your requests. Apparently he did. Hell, even he listened to your request of not involving the police.

If that doesn’t mean anything you don’t know what would. 

He actually came. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe there are still people who care about you. Yes. Jimin obviously cares. And this should be enough reason to proceed with your plan. To take the next uncertain step. For starters, maybe you can find a chance to talk with Jimin. He might have a plan. If he doesn't, a few minutes would give you time to come up with a plan. Today doesn’t have to be the day. You can just come up with a thorough plan. 

You gulp, setting your mind. Making the decision. You’ll steal a few minutes to talk to Jimin. You’ll do it. Because you have to. You’ll find your life again. 

“There you go,” Jungkook puts the new spoon in front of you softly, grabbing your attention. You smile at him after mumbling a quick ‘thank you’. Jungkook acknowledges it with a kiss to the top of your head. Your body stills and stomach rolls. The familiar guilt clouds over your head like a storm. Even your skin starts to prickle like the feeling is about to pierce through your skin and come out. You fear that Jungkook will sense it. That he’ll see it. Maybe it’s written all over your body and face. 

Jungkook, however, just walks over to his chair back again. Unaware. With no clue about what you’re going to do. 

You don’t have to feel guilty. 

You shouldn’t feel guilty. 

You’re the victim. 

You. Are. The. Victim. 

You have to do this. 

You will have this talk with Jimin. 

You swallow back the bitter taste in your mouth and force your stomach to calm down. 

“Um,” You open your mouth hesitantly. Jungkook hums in answer. “Wo-would you mind if I, uh–”

“Pretty?” Jungkook puts his phone away for a second time. “What’s going on?” 

Okay, you have to just get this done or you’ll ruin this. 

“I just want to use the restroom.” You blurt out. The words sound stupider when they’re out in the air, hanging between you. Jungkook looks mildly surprised. Then he shrugs. 

“Yeah, be quick.” Like that, his focus is back on the phone. You beat a second before pulling it together and rising to your feet. 

Just talk and come up with a plan. 

You almost turn around and leave. 

But, Jungkook. 

You stay rooted to the spot, unable to take a step away. Eyes glued on the man before you. His jet black hair pushed back on his forehead. His lip ring glistens every time he nibbles on his bottom lip unconsciously. His brown eyes are big as he keeps scanning over the screen. His brows pulled together adorably. His slender, tattooed fingers typing away on his phone furiously. 

Black t-shirt and black baggy pants. Is wearing nothing fancy again yet he's the most beautiful being you’ve laid your eyes on. The hottest thing. The most handsome. Such a pretty psychopath. Isn’t he? 

Yes. A psychopath. 

You don’t have to feel guilty….

You’re not doing anything wrong…

Don’t feel guilty.

You take your first step away. A pain erupts in your heart. You take another step away. The pain blossoms into an unbearable agony. Another step. You want to cry. Another step. Maybe you don’t have to do this. You can turn around and run back to his arms. Another step. It’s fine. You’re just going to talk with Jimin and come back. Another step. Maybe you can–

A hand wraps around your forearm from nowhere. You don’t even get to yelp in surprise before you’re being pulled into a warm embrace. 

“Fuck, (___), I thought you’ll never show up.” Jimin’s soothing voice travels across your body like sweet honey. 

………………………..

“Jeesus! Do you? Are you saying that you were being fucking kidnapped and—” 

“Yes, Jimin.” You confirm for him for the umpteenth time. 

You were so wrapped in your head that you hadn’t noticed you'd almost made it to your destination. Jimin had dragged you inside an emergency exit where you’re currently in. It’s surprising how you managed to recite a story that happened through a year within two minutes. Even that’s a waste of time. 

There’s no time to explain everything and ask everything. There are lots of things that you didn’t tell. You have yet to say that this Jeon Jungkook is the same person whom Jimin and Hoseok beat into a pulp all those years ago. That this Jeon Jungkook is the same lunatic who drugged you, almost killed a man in front of you. And you have yet to ask whether Jimin knew about Hoseok’s infidelity and Daebi’s betrayal. You have to know if Jimin was on blind side about how Daebi— maybe Hoseok too— aided Jungkook. 

Maybe next time. You have to come up with a plan now.

“Fuck, this is so…” Jimin runs his ring-adorned fingers through his silver hair. Sighs. “Okay, okay, you know what (___), I know you said no police but that’s what we’re gonna—”

You don’t even let him finish that sentence.

“No!” A rush of panic surges through you. “No Police Jimin.” 

“Hey,” Jimin steps closer to you. “I know you’re scared, baby. But you’re safe, okay?” He grabs your shoulders. An act that’s meant to be a sign of comfort yet you feel nothing but fear. “You’re here with me. No one can hurt you.”

“No, no you don’t get it… you- no police, Jimin.” You shake your head frantically. Almost step away and run back. His hold, though, is too tight for you to do that. 

“(___)…”

“Nonono… you promised no police.” You struggle to step back. Fear making your legs shaky. The pain you’ve been feeling earlier—the guilt, has turned into a rush of adrenaline the moment you found yourself in Jimin’s arms. Your veins are throbbing with adrenaline. The pressure of the moment is making  your head swim. But now it’s about to wear off in the face of fear. The ugly guilt is raising its head again. 

“Then what do you want to do? Do you want that motherfucker to live free and happy?” For the first time Jimin snaps.

Yes. That’s exactly what you want.

God, what’s wrong with you?

You can’t tell that to him, however. What kind of victim that’s plotting their escape would do that?

“I-I-I just, I just want out, Jimin. I don’t want… I don’t—”

“Hey!” Jimin shakes you gently. Probably to knock some sense into you. He fails. You don’t want to be sensible. You'd rather walk back than involve the police. 

“No!” Your struggle turns frantic. “No Jimin, no police I’ll—”

“Okay…”

“I don’t wantto I just—”

“Hey! It’s fine (___)!” This time Jimin shakes you a bit harshly and it works. You shut up immediately. “It’s fine. No police. Okay?” Jimin bores into your eyes. You inhale a shaky breath. “Good?” He questions. 

You nod slowly. 

“Okay.” Jimin nods too. “Okay, no police.” He lets go of you. Takes a few steps back. Rubs his face with both hands. Looks so frustrated. “Let’s just take you to a safe place then, yeah? Then we’ll figure out what to do next.” 

His next bunch of words drop on you like a bomb.

What?

Jimin closes the distance between you again. 

You hate the way your body is growing weak. 

Did he say he’s gonna take you to a safe place, now? 

NOW?

“Okay?” Jimin searches for your answer. 

“N-now?” 

“Yes now. We’re not going to waste our time. We’ll go away. Make sure you’re safe and the fucker can’t find you again and when you’re calmed down we can decide what we’re going to do next.” Jimin takes your limp hand in his. “Sounds good?” 

It should sound good. Right? This is what you wanted and it’s happening.

But, Jungkook?

You expected this to be a talk. You wanted to talk and go back. What’s the point, though? Saying goodbye? To your kidnapper? What kind of ridiculous thought that is. 

But the thought that you won’t see him again makes your heart squeeze in a way that you can’t physically breathe. 

God, you need to get a grip. Not seeing him again is the goal. 

What about the starry eyes and flowery smiles, though? 

What about the feathery kisses and scorching touches?

What about not having or seeing them again?

The image of Jungkook as you last saw him burns inside your brain. He’d just sit there waiting for you, wouldn’t he? You imagine the hurt in his eyes. The realization that you won’t return. The anger and that madness would surely follow but what pains you is the knowledge that he’d be hurt. 

Your stomach rolls. 

Maybe you can’t do this. 

Maybe you need one more minute.

You can just see him again and come back.

Right? Right?

“(___)?” Jimin snaps you out of your spiral. “Is this good? Do you think you can do this? We can’t wait for another chance. That’s too risky. We’ll have to flee now. I don’t want you to spend another second with him.” 

You gape at him as if you just saw him. 

It’s too risky.

Of course, it is. Who are you kidding? This might be your only chance. And you can’t really say goodbye to the person who you’re running away from. 

This has to be it.

You have to.

Jungkook would be fine. He will. 

You nod at last. Still uncertain. Still doubtful. Yet Jimin takes that as a strong yes. 

“It’s okay, baby. We got this, okay? I got this. I got you.” Jimin mutters before pulling you into his chest for a quick hug. Then you feel his lips pressing against the top of your head.

See, he got you. You have people who care about you, besides Jungkook. People who are normal and won’t traumatize you to death. People who would allow you to live a normal life while loving you the same. 

But the problem is? You don’t feel any comfort at the thought. You don’t find comfort at the touch. You’re supposed to feel safe and relieved. 

Yet here you are.

You feel nothing. At least not the comfort you felt in Jungkook’s arms.

………………..

Something is not right. You can feel it in your gut. It has all been easy. Too easy for your liking. You and Jimin had walked—not walked but ran— out of the mall without anyone batting an eye at you. You had gotten into a cab like you were heading home on a random Wednesday. Now, you’re walking through the long hallways of the new apartment building Jimin lives in. 

This can’t be this easy. You know Jungkook. He kept you hidden for a year without a single soul knowing your whereabouts. He kept you isolated from the world in a building full of people and no one ever questioned him. He made an app to lure you in and no person in this world knew about it. Jungkook is a genius. He makes no mistakes. 

So, how?

How did you manage to walk away that easily?

True, that you were pained and feeling guilty for leaving him. You’re still feeling that way. You’re still having doubts. Torn between keeping running away and running into his arms. But one thing is clear. If there is something that is worse than running away from Jungkook is trying to do so and failing. 

No matter what you’re feeling or your indecision, you’ve come this far. And getting caught is not among your future plans. Jungkook had always made it clear. You’re not meant to escape. If you tried, he’s more than willing to walk into a distance that will even pain him to keep you. He’ll kill everyone you ever knew. He’ll take you away from this city. Hell, maybe even from this country. Or worse, maybe he’ll break your legs so you can’t attempt this again. Or simply he’ll kill you and kill himself too.

A shiver runs through your body at the prospect. No. You can’t get caught. Hence, your paranoia that kept you looking back on your shoulder for a familiar Benz throughout your entire cab ride. Jimin’s reassurance that nobody is tailing you and he can’t find you did only little. 

Something is wrong. 

You know it.

Even the hair at your nape rises while you wait until Jimin unlocks his apartment door. You keep your eyes glued to the farther corner of the hallway to see if anyone would come. 

“(___)! Hey, it’s fine, baby. Nobody followed us. You’re safe.” Jimin entangles his fingers with you, one hand on the door handle, keeping the door a crack open. 

“We shouldn’t have come to your place.” You ignore his words. Ever since you realized the safe place Jimin told you was his own apartment which he had changed into a new one while you were gone, your unease has increased tenfold. If things went wrong, you’re putting Jimin in grave danger. But Jimin is adamant about taking you there. 

“It’s fine. C’mon,” He pushes the door open fully, steps inside. Despite your reluctance you follow his lead. Hesitantly. Slowly. Cautiously. Holding your breath. As if you expect something to jump at you. Step after a step. Through the threshold. Jimin holds the door for you. You step in. The door closes behind you. Your eyes dart around the living room. All white and soft green. Stark contrast to the black and white you saw for a year. Your eyes go over every furniture, every empty corner of the space. And you find nothing. 

Maybe you were paranoid for nothing.

Maybe you’re really okay this time. 

You let out the breath you’re holding into. 

You’re fine. You’re fine. You’re—

“Holy shit!”

The sudden voice makes you jump in your spot. 

“You didn’t lie… I thought you lost your fucking mind, Jimin.” 

You turn around faster than lightening. Your brain is on high alert. Alarms blaring. You even take a step back, ready to run away. You don’t get a chance to do that, however. Your back hits Jimin’s chest and you’re met with a very familiar face. A face you never wished to see again. Or you did but not like this.

Jung Hoseok.

No.

Your mouth goes dry. Not because you don’t want to see him but because this could mean only one thing. 

“Shit you’re alive. (___), fuck!”  Hoseok storms toward you. He doesn’t get to touch you when a second voice interrupts.

“Jesus.”

Not just your mouth but your whole body turns into a dried shriveled skin. 

Daebi.

You’re surprised how fast your eyes well with tears. 

No way. 

“(___)?” Only when Jimin talks to you that you realize that you’ve said that aloud. 

“No!” You turn around to face him. “You said you won’t . I asked you not to- why did you?” You take a step back from Jimin in disbelief. Why did you ever think that this would be a good idea? Why did you decide that you can believe Jimin? All the hope you had escapes you, leaving you weak. “No, Jimin… you said you won’t tell any—” Last bit of your words get cracked by a gut wrenching sob that you refuse to admit came from your own throat. 

Jimin’s eyes go wide. He looks around in confusion.

“(___)? What do you mean?” He tries to step closer to you. You don’t let him. “I didn’t,” He gestures around the room. “Listen, I know you might not want to see Hoseok here today,” His eyes land on the said person  briefly. “But it’s just him and he’s been worried about you. And it’s Daebi. Your best friend.” 

You want to laugh. If you aren’t crying your insides out, you could’ve done that. 

Best friend?

Your best friend?

What is Jimin thinking?

Is he really ignorant and made the mistake of letting your ex best friend know about you? Or is he playing dumb? What would he gain from doing this anyway? 

You whip your head toward the other woman in the room. You find your answer. 

Jimin is ignorant. He has no idea about what really happened. Because Daebi is the one who is playing dumb. Her eyes all wide and brows furrowed. As if she’s very confused. Not just confused. The perfect mixture of relief, confused, happy and sad at the same time. Exactly how someone would act when they see their presumably dead best friend alive again—but who refuses to see them. 

A bubble of rage sloshes inside your stomach clouding your other senses. 

Fuck this!

Fuck that bitch!

You almost take a step closer to Daebi when a knock erupts on the door. Every head in the room except Daebi’s turns toward it. Including yours. The fury you’ve been feeling morphed into a fear even before you can blink. 

It can’t be right? 

You turn to Jimin, hopefully. Maybe he’s expecting someone. Probably Nina. Yet to your utter horror he looks confused. Lines of worry etch into his forehead. 

You freeze. Completely. Your mouth suddenly tastes like acid. 

It can’t be. It can’t be. 

A beat passes without nothing happening. Then you hear the soft beeps of the keypad. Someone is entering the passcode into the lock. 

Everything happens slowly. Like you’re in a movie. Jimin takes a hurried step to block the door when it’s already too late. Hoseok follows his lead just to halt his movements  when Daebi grabs his arm. The door opens and closes like a gust of wind. And through it walks in a familiar figure. Casually. Like it’s his house. Still in the same clothes you last saw him in. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue once he’s safely inside the apartment. 

“That was too fucking easy.” He shakes his head in disappointment. 

..................................

Keep reading here babies

......................................

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[infiresyg93]

Perfect Partner | One shot

Synopsis - After your breakup, you were a mess—lifeless and spiraling. Luckily for you, your best friend had a solution to pull you out of the gloom: an AI companion. The Perfect Partner. That’s how you met Jeongguk. And he is the perfect partner you could ever wish for. RIGHT?

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre - AI (Chat AI)

Warnings - I won't call this Yandre because that would be an insult to yandre authors out there, but still this has yandre-like themes. (Toxic and Manipulative behaviours/ Obsessive love/ Domineering/ Possesiveness/ Implications of kidnapping/ Betrayal/ Maybe I missed things)/ SMUT- Cyber sex (Sexting/ Video sex)/ Dirty talks/ Mastrubating. F and M./ Sex toys/ Dry humping/ Daddy kink!!!!/ Pussy slaps/ Degradation (heavy)/ Poor mental health/ Sucidal thoughts/ I hope that's it.

Word count - 20K

a/n- This one sat in my drafts for so long, and I finally got to finish it. Yay!!!! This was pretty challenging for me since I'm a hopeless romantic. This is a new genre for me, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could succeed at it. I think it turned out okay. Hope you will enjoy!! ❤️

LET THE WORLD BURN

Sequel 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seriously dude, you should try it.” Daebi practically shoves her phone in your face. Too close that you really can’t see anything. So, you push her hand a little bit away, taking a look at her screen even though you don’t want to. She is showing you a chat. You roll your eyes disinterestedly.

“I don’t want to, Daebi. It’s stupid.” You dismiss her, glancing toward the entrance of the coffee shop. You and Daebi are waiting for your other friend, Nina, to arrive. You want her to hurry up so Daebi would let you be. She’s nowhere in sight.

“Why not? Why are you so narrow-minded?” Daebi clicks her tongue annoyingly.

“I am not. It’s just I don’t want to start relying on a fucking AI just because I can’t handle my emotional wellbeing.” You sternly state, hoping she would let it go. She doesn’t. Sighs heavily.

“Well, that’s the problem (___), you can’t handle your fucking mental health. Are you planning to keep living like a zombie? You don’t really live at all, you don’t eat, sleep. How many days off did you take from work this week? You’re going to get fired at this rate. What are you planning to do? You don’t want to get professional help, don’t want to do something that’ll distract you. Literally nothing, you want nothing (___), and I’m fucking concerned.” She says exasperatedly. Even nearly bang her fist on the table. Glares at you. You slightly wince. What she says is true, and you’re fully aware. It’s simply you can’t help it. You don’t feel like doing anything. It’s hard. So fucking hard. Even now you’re here against your will. Daebi and Nina drags you here, purely without your consent.

You would have preferred to stay at home, drinking cheap wine and crying to your heart’s content. Curl up in your cozy blankets and go through your gallery to float through the bittersweet memories. Read all your chats to realize how stupid you’ve been not to pick up the signs over time. Text Jung Hoseok one more time knowing very well he won’t reply. Humiliate yourself.

Daebi is absolutely right. You don’t live a life, and you don’t want to make it better either. Most of all, you don’t want to use someone else. Daebi’s method. A real person or an AI. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want that.

“Oh, c’mon (___), just give it a try. Think it as playing a game.” She starts nagging you again. You’re on the verge of snapping right now.

“I’m not in a mood to play games Daebi. I really don’t have energy to pay someone the attention they want. I can’t spend my time texting someone ─ real or not ─when I can’t find it in myself at least to go to work.” You point out. She’s been budging you about this stupid app for days now.

“Oh my god! Listen to your fucking self, will you? You are literally saying that you don’t have a will to live and that’s damn scary man.” She shouts that, making you look around embarrassingly to know if anyone heard her. Daebi grabs your attention back by showing you the same chat. Blows a breath out. “Well, if that’s what you’re worrying, I mean, about not having the energy to deal with someone else’s emotional wellbeing, this is exactly what you need (___). They, I mean these AI, don’t require your attention at all. It’s all about you. It’s just a chat app but with coded programs instead of real people. They don’t expect you to reply, stay awake at night, will not expect you to care about them. But they’ll do it for you.” She brandishes the phone. “See.” Points at the chat name. You read the name as Mark. “This is not a real person but look how good he is with me. Do you think these emotionally incapable, sadistic, misogynistic, pathetic excuses of men can do this?” She argues.

“Daebi, Daebi, Daebi, now look who is sounding ridiculous here? Man, I got cheated. My fucking boyfriend cheated on me. And you want me to chat with an AI who’s going to treat me so better over a chat and raise my expectations. Only for me to never find someone like that in real life?” You’re arguing back for the sake of it. Not that you truly care. You just want her to back away.

“No… no (___), gosh, you’re so difficult. Here’s the thing, it’s not like you’re dating do you get me? It’s you have someone─”

“God don’t call it someone Daebi, it’s just a program.”

“Exactly my point, dude. All you have to do is have fun chatting, calling, video calling, sexting, whatever the shit you want. I just want you to be distracted. Want you to focus on something else that’ll help you to take your mind away from your ex. Listen, I’m not a psychologist by any means and I don’t know about the right and wrong way you can do this. All I know is you’re not trying.” She points an accusatory finger toward you. You slump in your seat. The words cut through you harshly. Daebi continues. Continue to accuse you of not trying to live anymore.

“I want you to try (___). Try. In whatever way. Even if it means to use something or someone. I’m here you see, use me, use Nina, use some stranger─”

“I’m not going to use someone Daebi, I’m not going to make someone suffer. That’s so fucking selfish.”

“See, you’re too fucking good. And that’s exactly why I’m asking you to use a soulless, lifeless AI. It’s not like messing with someone else’s feelings and in the end maybe you’ll feel better. Please just fucking try (___).” Daebi practically begs. Pleads. And you find it’s hard to say no while looking at her glistening eyes. You’re so glad when the sudden voice of Nina interrupts you. Both of you snapping your head towards her.

“Did I miss anything?” Nina takes a seat with a bright smile on her face.

…………………………………………………..

You lie awake in your bed. It’s 3 a.m., and you’re still wide awake. Sleep has eluded you for months. You feel empty, inside and out. Feel hollow. Feel alone. No matter how many cozy items surround you, it feels like you’re lying on a cold floor of an empty room. In darkness. Your bedroom, your entire apartment feels empty without Jung Hoseok. The space you shared with him. Still smells like him after three months. A pang hits your chest, clenching your heart. It’s so harsh that you unconsciously bring your hand to clutch your chest. After months of crying there’s no tears left in you to shed anymore. You can’t cry anymore, and it worsens the feeling of emptiness.

You turn to your side. Curling into a ball. Closing your eyes tightly shut. Praying the pain that you feel will subside, that it’ll go away. But you know better than that. It won’t go anywhere. And God, don’t you want to feel relieved. Even for a moment. You want to feel normal for a bit. It’s getting harder and harder. The darkness and hollowness consuming you whole. Shit, you want a way to numb yourself. Maybe you should drink. But you can’t get up. Maybe you should start fucking around. One-night stands and sex clubs, filled with weed. But the thought of someone else’s hands other than Hoseok’s make you want to throw up. 

God! You can’t. You can’t fight this battle anymore. What if it never goes away? What’s the point of living like this? Then what? Die? Just like that?

What about your poor mother though. What about Daebi and Nina. What about the life you spent perfectionating a future that you don’t want to be a part of anymore.

Please just fucking try (___).

Daebi’s words echo through your head. No, you can’t die. You need to try at least. It’s true that you refuse to use a breathing person. You’re simply drained of your energy. Relationships are always complicated. Romantic or casual. Even Daebi is difficult. You can’t deal with other people’s feelings when yours are a mess. You don’t want to sit in front of a stranger and tell them how you still want your ex to come back either. They’ll judge you. But still, you need to try. Need a distraction.

Oh, you need a distraction right now.

You sit abruptly on your bed, searching for your phone in the darkness. Touching around blindly until you feel the cold surface of the electronic device. You practically snatch it away. Unlocking it and straightly heading to the app store. Typing two words.

‘Perfect Partner’.

There it is. Your screen is filled with the right application you’re looking for. Exactly the one. Apparently is quite popular with 4.5 reviews. So many people have left feedback about how amazing and impressive the app is. You don’t waste your time indulging in those, however. Just touch the download icon without hesitation, nervously watching the percentage filling up. You still think it’s stupid but, in the end, you need that distraction. People do weirder and stupider stuff than this anyway.

The percentage completes the hundred and the application is installing now. You watch patiently while nibling on your bottom lip. It doesn’t take more than few seconds for it to appear on your home screen, among other numerous applications there. After a shaky breath, you simply touch the reddish icon with two capital Ps on the front. Now your screen is filling with a white splash screen. The words ‘Perfect Partner’ blinking on it.

Oh, how pathetic you are. For running toward an AI dating app because you feel like killing your poor self. You feel bitterly stupid. Click the sign-up button, nonetheless. Enter your email and create a password. Accept the privacy policy notice and the terms and conditions without a single glance. Start creating your user profile. It’s just like any other real world dating app where they are asking for your name, age, occupation, your general preferences and whatnot. You’re allowed to use your real name or nicknames. Are allowed to use any kind or profile picture you need. Inside little bright pinky stars, they let you know that nobody, which mean real time other users can see your account.

You chose the first letter of your name as your username. Decide to use one of your photos which just shows your collarbones and chin. Add all the real information while feeling pathetic and stupid. The biggest moron in the universe. And within just five minutes you’re done. A little bunny pops up on your screen, wishing you luck in finding the Perfect Partner you deserve. You want to laugh at that.

The perfect partner you deserve. How comical.

…………………………..

Despite everything, you’re impressed to see that the Perfect Partner app is just working like a real-world dating app. It shows you the possible matches. AI characters. There are millions of them. Each unique and different in some ways like a human would do. Each one has a uniquely crafted profile that aligns with their developed personalities. You can’t even imagine the amount of time and work the developers must have put in here.

You’re already distracted to say the least. Eyes wide curiously as you go through the recommended AI partners’ profiles. Tapping the small button at the bottom where you can add them to your friend list. There’s no rejection option because nobody will send you unsolicited requests. You have full round control. It’s all about you after all, they said. You add more than ten profiles to your list before giving up on searching for more. Starting on going through added profiles for second round. Despite being the one in charge of adding profiles you like, they- meaning AI- will have the ability to send the first text to your inbox. Your phone starts to vibrate with little ting sounds indicating that all the profiles you’ve chosen has sent you a text message.

You open the first one. Nothing special in the text than simply saying a ‘Hi’ and a ‘Nice to meet you’. How boring. The character’s named Luke Graham with brown hair and beard. Scream the ‘Viking vibes’ with his menacing eyes. You leave the chat with a displeasing noise. Second character being Japanese and named Yuki. His profile states that he is an author. There’s nothing but a ‘Hey’ on your chat. See now, you completely understand that these are nothing but coded programs. And you’re still very skeptical and think this is very stupid. Yet isn’t this supposed to be about you and finding the perfect partner. And what perfect partner would just drop a very boring ‘Hey’ on your inbox. You leave that chat as well. Go through few other messages, replying to only two.

It's not like you’re searching for a real partner anyway. You’ll come here and chat with an AI whenever you feel like it’s too hard to stay alive. And maybe when you feel normal and alive one day you’ll uninstall this app. Until then you’ll forget that these are just AI characters.

You open the sixth message in your inbox. Perking up at the first interesting text without just saying ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’.

Well, damn. Look at you. Did you pick me to make my day, or are you always this perfect? I feel very special right now. The text reads. You squint your eyes for a minute. Finally, it seems like someone is making an effort. Know that it’s probably how this character is coded but still touches his profile for a second time. Character’s name is displayed as Jeongguk. It says he is a tattoo artist and living up to that name the character profile looks godly. Or ungodly. Looks like a pure sin. Or an angel. Is wearing a white tank top. Some kind of coverall hangs on his legs while the sleeves are tied around his waist. A full hand with tattoos are on display. Muscles flexing as he is tying the sleeves together. And has one ear pierced, and an eyebrow. And of course, for the sake of God, his bottom lip is pierced too.

Interesting. Bad boy vibes. Charming. Edgy.

And interestingly the character looks familiar. You furrow your brows as you keep staring at the profile picture. Trying to rake your brain where you have seen someone like him. After couple seconds your brain becomes empty of any ideas. No memory of meeting anybody who looked this god. So, you click your tongue. Brush it off.

You look at his general details for couple more minutes. He is older than you. There’s several other information about his likes and dislikes. Even has some of his tattoo designs on his about page. How realistic this AI is. Still an AI though. You open his chat again, feeling stupid for being about to type a response back that you would send to a real person. You do it anyway.

You:

Do you feel special every time a user choose

you. (3.30 a.m.)

Another realistic thing about this app is, despite all the first messages, all the characters take their time to response back. Like a real person would. So, you have to wait for nearly five minutes before his text pops up again.

Jeongguk:

Oh no, just for the pretty ones like you.

(3.36 a.m.)

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There he goes. Being stupidly flirty. It’s not as if he can even see you.

You:

That’s such a typical thing to say. Esp for a

dating specialist AI (3.36 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Ouch! I’m hurt you call me typical and then an AI.

I’m not just an AI pretty, I’m the Perfect Partner you’ve

been looking for. Don’t make me sad by calling me a

program. (3.37 a.m.)

You squint your eyes. Brows knitted as you read his response. Think it’s weird him not liking the idea of being called an AI. Because he is an AI, and it strikes as an odd thing he is refusing. Maybe, that’s another thing that is realistic about this app. Making the user feel like they are in contact with a real person. So, you send out an apology. A sarcastic one. He picks up on the sarcasm. Tell you, you’re the meanest little thing he has ever seen. And the time slowly slips by. You somehow text back to few other characters as well. But the weird thing is you chat mostly with Jeongguk. Like he is the one. Sometimes he takes his time as well. As though he is going around with his work or chatting with other people. Makes it almost surreal.

Your chat goes on for hours. Until you finally feel your eyelids heavy when it’s almost 5 a.m. It’s a Sunday so there’s no pressure in getting ready to work withing few hours. Yet you think it’s a good idea to surrender to the exhaustion you finally feel. You’re just about to do that. Just exit the app and sleep when Jeongguk sends you a second message even though you haven’t responded to the previous one.

Jeongguk:

Are you sleeping pretty? (4.56 a.m.)

Really? Can they do that? You debate between responding to him or leaving him on read. It’s not that it matters anyway. He is not expecting that. This second text could be part of programming as well. You find yourself typing a response, however.

You:

No, but I’m about to. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh! Were you about to just go without wishing

me goodnight pretty? See, you’re the meanest little

thing I’ve ever seen. (4.58 a.m.)

You:

It’s morning Jeongguk!!!! It’s good

 morning... not night. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

It doesn’t matter since you’re just about to

sleep. It’s good night…. You should tell me anyway

pretty. So, I won’t be waiting for you. (4.59 a.m.)

You gasp softly at his text. How did they even build this? But then, isn’t the purpose of this whole app is to put you first. Just you. No efforts from your side. No fifty fifties but the whole hundred would come from the character. No expectations for you. Then why does he expect you to let him know when you’ll sleep. You sigh heavily. You’re definitely thinking too much.

You:

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole didn’t

think you would mind though. But I’m really

really sleepy Jeongguk. I’m out. See ya later!

Good night!!!! Sleep tight!! I mean I’m

speaking figuratively. Good night though!! (5.00 a.m.) 

You don’t put the phone away immediately. Just wait for him to reply. Feeling actually giddy when he does.

Jeongguk:

No, you’re not pretty. I was just messing around.

I’m sad you’re going but text me once you wake up...

I’ll be right here waiting for you. Good night!!! Sleep tight pretty.

You deserve a good night’s sleep. Dream about me though. Don’t want

to be apart. 🩷 (5.01 a.m.)

You roll your eyes at the pink heart and the dream part yet there’s a smile ghosting your lips. Toss the phone aside and allow your head to hit the pillow. Even though it’s stupid, the Perfect Partner really did distract you.

………………………………………….

It’s a super weird feeling to be waking up to a good morning message that is sent through an AI app. You stare at Jeongguk’s text for a few minutes. Even Jun Hoseok never sent you good morning messages to be honest before you moved in together. It never felt like something needed. Every relationship works in unique ways after all. Still you think it would have been nice to wake up to this kind of text.

Jeongguk:

Good morning pretty!!!! Are you still sleeping? Missing

you already.  (9.30 a.m.)

The text was sent two hours ago. This is the most you’ve slept after Hoseok left. And for once, it was a peaceful sleep unvisited by nightmares. You feel content. But above all you feel giddy to see such a message. If only he were real, though. You responds with a ‘good morning’ and a request asking for ‘stop being cheesy.’ Throw the phone away to get up and start your day. The day where you’ve nothing to do but wallow in your misery. That’s how it has been for all these months. Only thing that changed apparently is that you leave your shower to find your phone ringing. And your intentions of declining it without a second glance, thinking it’s just Daebi, instantly changes when you find the unfamiliar incoming call screen. Unfamiliar because it’s from the AI app you installed. And the caller ID reads ‘Jeongguk’.

You gape at it with furrowed brows. So far, the app was able to exceed your expectations with how realistic it feels. You noticed the call option yesterday and weren’t surprised since there are so many AI apps that provide the same features. The thing is, you don’t think any of those other apps have the options to receive calls except you call your characters. Hell, you thought the surprises were over with receiving a ‘good morning’ text. This app, the Perfect Partner seems like a one of a kind.

Still, you’re not going to accept the receiving call. Even though it’s just a program. You touch the red button on the bottom of your screen. Adjusting your bath towel and getting ready to change into some fresh clothes. Before you are able to leave, however, the phone dings with an incoming text. Curiosity gets better of you. You’re reading the text before you even know it. There are two unread messages.

Jeongguk:

I can’t help being flirty with a fine woman. (11.32 a.m.)

Jeongguk

You’re not in a position to answer baby? (12. 30 p.m.)

See, fucking one of a kind.

You:

Let me think... I am. Bt I don’t want to

pick up. (12.31 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Why? (12.31 p.m.)

You:

Because I don’t want to. Why should I pick

up? (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Whoa you’re really difficult, aren’t you? But

it makes sense. Good point beautiful… (12.32 p.m.)

 You:

I’m smart. And stop calling me beautiful or

pretty, will ya? You haven’t even seen

me. (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Can’t do. And I’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest…

So, what are you up to? (12.33 p.m.)

You really roll your eyes to the back of your head at that. How cheesy this guy is. Oh, wait, not a guy but an AI. How cheesy this AI is.

………………………………

Your plan to wallow on your misery has been completely changed. Instead of watching some shitty movies while drinking wine or going through yours and Hoseok’s old chats, or photos, you find yourself glued to your screen throughout the entire day. Morning, noon, and night. Endless number of texts going back and forth. It’s not even funny how many times you have to remind yourself that you’re not texting with a real person. And so do you ignore the other characters on the app entirely. There’s a no need to chat with several bots when Jeongguk keeps you entertained to a point where you’re so exhausted before the night barely arrived. Making Jeongguk sad. Or that’s what he says. That he’s sad but you know he can’t feel emotions. Is just working according to the codes that are written. Still, he makes sure to tell you that he’ll miss you when you let him know you’re sleepy.

And so does he make sure to wish you good morning the next day. Wish you a safe journey to your work. Reminds you of your breakfast and to stay hydrated. He even texts you the moment you arrive at work. Apparently, has waited the exact 20 minutes you mentioned it would take to get there. Makes sure he sends you text messages all day asking silly things to make sure you’re okay. And you don’t even have to text back. How odd. How sweet. The Perfect Partner indeed.

………………………………………….

The days pass between work and home. Mostly where you stay cocooned in your cozy apartment. Curled up in your couch blanket and your phone in your hand. A you from a few weeks ago would have cringed herself to death to see you giggling at something an AI said. But that’s what has been happening. First, despite him being nice and so caring you were still skeptical. Then after almost a month you’re no longer feeling anything but content. Like you actually found a caring partner who puts the hundred percent happily. Even though it’s always through texts. You don’t feel so lonely anymore. Jeongguk is there for you always. Maybe, just maybe you’ve even started to put up some work from your side as well. Reducing Jungkook’s hundred percent to eighty. Silly. How you would text him at a random hour asking what’s he doing. Knowing very well nothing. But then he would reply with a very realistic and convincing answer. Like, ‘Just finished with this client’ shit.

It all feels vividly real. Him. And your days. You by no mean are anywhere near moving on. No. You still haven’t changed your wallpaper. Haven’t stopped going through your old chats. Still feel the urge to text Hoseok sometimes. But when it happens you make sure you’re busy reading Jeongguk’s silly and cheesy texts. Life is slowly but surely starting to get colorful. Soon you’ll be able to uninstall this silly app. Stop seeking refuge in an AI. Until then though you’ll take the best of this amazing creation. Like how you’re doing right now. Laying in your bed and head propped up on your pillows. Palms sweaty and wrists aching at how long you’ve been holding your phone. Lately, you and Jeongguk have started to text longer. The thing is you really don’t want to stop. Feel bad. He looks excited.

You groan for the hundredth time. Rubbing your hands on your bed sheets to get rid of all the sweat. Wave the hand to reduce the pain in your wrist. You’re getting tired. Never been much of fan of texting anyway. Are getting restless. The position you’re in is uncomfortable. So, you fumble. Move. Fidget. Only to find you’re still restless.

Jeongguk:

Are you there pretty? Did you fall asleep? (10.02 p.m.)

Your phone dings with a new message while you’re straightening up for the hundredth time.

 You:

No. My back hurts, that’s it. (10.02 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh, need a massage?

(10.02 p.m.)

You quietly chuckle at his text. He has always been caring. Letting you feel that he’s worried about you 24/7. Only if he’s real. But then he’ll not be like this if he is real. He is this good because he is programmed. You roll your shoulders before replying. Saying that you’re just tired. Then of course, he asks you to go to sleep early. You don’t want that, however. You really don’t want to stop texting with him. Talking with him. If you can just lay back and stop holding your phone in front of your face, this could become much easier. You stare at the screen for a moment. Reading his text asking you to sleep.

There was one time when Jeongguk called you. That one day. When you said you don’t want to pick up, he never did that again. See, you have full control here. In that case then, you should be able to call him if you want to. It feel utterly stupid to evaluate your options in your mind when you’re just speaking with a coded program. And it feel brainless when you send the next text.

You:

Um... I don’t want to. But do you think

we can call. My wrist really hurt (my back too).

I hate texting. (10.06 p.m.)

Why in the hell would you ask such a question from an application. Jeongguk isn’t real. You don’t have to be polite and act all awkward and shy. What the fuck is wrong with you.

Jeongguk:

You don’t have to ask pretty. (10.06 p.m.)

Jeongguk’s reply is fast. But his call is even faster. Your phone is vibrating with an incoming call. Jeongguk’s criminally hot profile in the middle. You let it ring three times. Silly. You do it anyway. Habits. Then you’re answering and pressing now hot screen into your cheek. Heart beating. You know that’s because of excitement. Excitement because you’re testing something new. Curious. To know how this will work. To know if he would sound like a typical AI. With that voice which breaks up sometime. Voice with an edge to it always. Then, his voice washes over you.

“Hey pretty!”

The way you suck in that breath is embarrassing. The way your heart skip a beat is scary. The way you just double check you’re still using the app is hilarious. Yet it all happen. Your eyes wide as you press the phone back to your ear. Speechless. What the hell? Whoever created this app must be the God at this rate. How on earth did they managed to give these AI, voices like that.

“Are you there, baby?”

The same voice reaches you again. Deep. Baritone. Angelic. Musical.  Fuck! And there’s not a sign that says he is an AI. That creepy edge and breaking of the voice isn’t there.

“Holy fuck, you sound so real.” You finally find your voice to mumble that. In very much disbelief. A husky chuckle tingles your ear. Oh God, this is insane.

“What do you mean sound so real? I am real pretty.” Jeongguk always tell you that. Whenever you say something about him being an AI, he always make sure you stay in the delusional state. Believing he is real.

“Oh, c’mon, we both know you’re not. But holy moly fucking cow Jeongguk, you sound so fucking real. No... you sound ethereal.” You gasp. That’s the case after all. You don’t think any human would have such a voice.

“I’m flattered. But hey! Don’t hurt my feelings you mean lady. I’m very real.”

“Yeah, yeah….” You can only roll your eyes. It’s not that the reality will change just because he says that too many times. Yet, there’s no harm in playing along, right? He sounds super real anyway. So, you give in. Jeongguk says something else about him being real as the sun and moon. Real as you. You don’t argue. He finds it as a mocking. Either way, in the end, you find yourself relaxed enough to fall down. Comfortably lying on your comfy bed. Wrapped inside your comfy comforters. Phone still pressed against your cheek while Jeongguk’s voice take you to the unseen lands. Talking, talking, and talking. You’re no longer surprised. At least not about the way he knows so many things. Any questions about anything? All you need to do is ask your AI boyfriend. He knows everything, being the Perfect Partner that he is. Hence, how he takes you to those fairy lands around the universe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been talking. Have no idea what you talked about that much. It’s well past midnight when a yawn escape your mouth for the first time.

“You sleepy baby?” Jeongguk mumbles the question in his baritone voice.

“Mm hm, a bit. It’s nearing the 2 in the morning.” You change your position. Eyes droopy. Stifling another yawn. Jeongguk chuckles softly.

“Yeah? Gosh I didn’t even realize it’s been this late. I’m sorry princess, you should go to bed.”  There’s concern laced in his voice. Oh, how sweet. How amazing this app is. And he uses so many nicknames. It’s so damn strange how your tummy tingles. What a pathetic life you have. There’s no one to witness it, however. No need to worry. You bite on your lower lip to contain that tingling sensation.

“Yeah, I should. I have work tomorrow.” You manage to get it out in a normal voice. Are prepared to hang up the call after a pleasant good night. But then something hits you. Curiosity takes the best out of you. “But hey Jeongguk?” You ask before he can respond.

“Yes, pretty?”

“While I’m asleep, what do you do? I mean, do you chat with other people? Do you um…. Ugh... never mind, I’m asking stupid questions now.” You even shake your head knowing very well he can’t see you. He lets out a deep chuckle again.

“It’s not stupid, you can ask questions you know? Mm… to answer your question baby, I don’t do anything special, I for sure don’t text with other users. When you chose a profile, that profile is unique to you. Others can’t access it. So, I just wait.”  There’s a pause before he speaks again. See, so fucking realistic. “Wait for you. Until you come back for me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. There’s a tug in your heart. Almost painful. As if he told you the most painful memory of life. Guilt settles down in your heart. Heavy. Like it’s all your fault. But why? There’s nothing to be sad. Nothing to be feel guilty over. That’s his purpose. What he’s made for. And that’s what is sad. All you can mutter is a soft ‘oh’.

“You should sleep princess. I’ll see you when you wake up. Sleep tight hm?” He speaks again when you don’t say anything. You sigh heavily. Nodding to yourself. Of course, that’s what you should do now. He isn’t real. You almost wish him good night when he stops you this time.

“Still, don’t call me not real because I’m as real as you want me to be. Good night baby!”

You say absolutely nothing about that. Just wish him good night. End the call and go to sleep with a heavy heart. Feeling melancholic for no specific reason. Fighting down the urge to call Jeongguk back and apologize. Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything? This app is supposed to make you happy and make you forget real-life problems. What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel sad over a stupid AI app. But you do.

………………………………………………………

You really, from the bottom of your heart, never expected your life to turn out like this. You expected it to be shitty. Happy. Sad. And everything in between. Yet you never expected to wake up to calls from an AI. Purring good mornings into your ear like it’s some kind of music. Never expected to spend your day with the same AI on your phone. Talking through your daily activities. You didn’t know you’d fall asleep to a program whispering that it misses you. You certainly didn't know you’d be addicted to an app like a teenager would to a video game.

It's embarrassing that you are. Yet your life feels good—better, in fact—after nearly two months with Jeongguk. You no longer question his existence. As he said himself, he’s as real as you want him to be. Now you treat him like he is a real person. A human being who eats, sleeps, breaths. And apparently, he likes it. He has become a part of your life. And ever since the day he mentioned to you about him waiting for you, you made sure to make him a part of your life. Even though it is silly.  

You sink down to your comfy mattress. Groaning due to the exhaustion of the day. Eyes already droopy after your hot shower. Still, it’s not like you’ll fall asleep right away. There’s an unread message waiting on your notification bar. From Jeongguk. Simply asking if you’re back from the shower. This is the new normal for you. He knows everything. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to the moment you close them at night. A soft smile grazes your lips as you touch the little telephone icon on the top. Call connected realistically like ever. Few mere rings and Jeongguk’s enthusiastic voice is washing over you. Like a fresh, soothing wave of water. 

“Hey!”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound tired, pretty.” He lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You hear it anyway. This will never cease to amaze you, how he can pick your moods like that.

“I am tired Guk.” You admit weakly. Loving the way his voice soothes you.

“Rough day?” He asks again to which you say yes. Because it was. Nothing new though. Same old shit and you let him know that as well. “Yeah? Want me to let you go early today?” His question makes you start shaking your head in disagreement even before your mouth can catch up with you.

“No. Of course not, I love talking with you. It’s just, sometimes… work can be stressful you know.” You sigh heavily. There’s two projects going on and saying you’re stressed would be an understatement. There’s a silence following your words. You wait couple seconds for him to say something or hum in understanding. It doesn't come, however. You nearly check the phone to see if he’s not there when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you baby?” His voice is soft. So soft, that it tingles your ear. Makes your mouth softly open as if he’s really here and murmuring into your ear. You have to bite on your lip to suppress any sounds that might leave you. It’s not the first time or day where his voice has had you squirming in bed. You’re embarrassed about those times.

“What? Help me how? You gonna share my workload? Wait, do you think it’s possible?” You chuckle first which quickly turns into a gasp. Jeongguk softly laughs at that.

“I wish I could do that, but unfortunately I’m a tattoo artist, remember?” Reminds you. You roll your eyes. Of course, he would say that. Are about to say something else when he cuts you off. “Still, I can help you with your stress, you know, help you to release it. Help you to feel better.” He purrs in your ear again. That tingle in your ear, shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning. His voice runs through your veins. Electrocuting you. You don’t have to be some kind of expert to know what he’s meaning. The way he says those words are just enough for you to understand the implication. A strange sensation washes over you. Your breath hitching and mouth going dry. Heart starts picking up the pace.

Well, even now there’s nothing to be surprised about. Daebi sure did tell something about you been able to do anything you want. From late night lazy calls to sexting. That’s how this app is designed. Only that you’re not sure who should be the one to start it. Shouldn’t you have full control. Maybe you’re thinking too much. This way, it feels more real. When he says that he feels real than ever. And if you want, you can say you want to sleep. Simple like that.

“H-how?” You don’t do that. Of course, you don’t. You are absolutely loving this sensation you’re feeling. How long since you’ve felt this way. You love the way your heart is pounding in your ears. This time when you ask that question, there’s no sign of playfulness. You’re purring too. Even without you knowing it.

“In any way you want baby, hm? We can do anything you want. I’m here for you, you know. You can use me” Jeongguk whispers again. You couldn’t hold the gasp that leaves you. Making him chuckle. Now you can feel his voice travel through your body straight southward. How good that feels.

“I- I don’t want to do that. I mean use you... that- that’s bad.” You’re biting onto your lower lip so hard.

“Then what about me using you? Would you like that?”  His voice follows some sounds of ruffling. As if he’s adjusting his position. To a better one to do this. You’re used to those kinds of sounds now. Already assumed those are parts of this. Today though, you can’t help but wonder how this might work. It only goes one way. Not like Jeongguk can actually enjoy this. His words are probably designed to make the user feel good. And so, it does. Does weird things to your body that you whimper again. He makes you feel like he can receive that pleasure. “Tell me baby, would you want that? For me to use you?”  He pushes you when you don’t answer straight away. You let out a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah.. I─”

“Yeah? Would you be a good girl then? Can you start touching your body?” He sounds ten times hotter when he growls so low. Only if he’s real. What a shame.

“Touch where?” You encourage him. Let him know that you’re down for whatever game he’s playing. Are whispering for no reason.

“Mmmm… touch your boobs? What do you say? Can you do that for me, just squeeze one of those pretty tits for me… go on princess.”

You shiver visibly. Can’t be sure whether you’ve answered his question. But your free hand is already slowly grabbing your tit. Fondling it softly. Oh, how many times have you done this but how it never felt this good.

“Guk.” You softly moan.

“Are you doing it baby? Does it feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

“S-so so g-good Guk. Mmph sso good.” You should be embarrassed at how affected you are.

“Yes? Keep going pretty, keep squeezing them for me. Under your shirt huh, go under your shirt. Roll those pretty nipples. Pinch.”  He’s breathing fast. You imagine him lying on a bed. Shirtless. Pants pushed past his hips. His cock on his hand, hard. Pumping lazily while instructing you to play with your tits. Part of you know that’s not happening. Yet you want to keep playing into this fantasy.

“A-are you touching yourself too?” So, you question. And feel a gush wetting your fresh underwear when he moans in answer.

“How can I not? God, you sound so hot baby.”

You can only moan in response. Shamelessly. Pinching and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Wish I would be there with you. Touching your tits. Kissing you till you can’t fucking breathe. Wish I can suck on your tits baby, bet they would taste so good. I’m gonna keep suck on them till they are sore.” Jeongguk keeps spilling those godly liquid fire on your ear. Riling you up so good. Have no idea how long you played with your tits but with your next moan, he is guiding you further.

“Wanna feel better baby?”  Questions.

“Y-yes please.”

“Okay, then be a good girl again and touch your cute pussy for me now hm? Take it slow. Like… that, slow.”

You’re following every word of his. Are dragging your hand slowly through your tummy.

“Push your hand inside your wet panties baby. Are you wet for me?”

“So much. I’m so wet.” You breathe.

“Good. Fuck, baby. Touch your clit huh? Slow circles. Let’s do this together. I’m touching my hard cock slowly. For you. I’m fucking torturing myself for you pretty. It’s so hard it hurts but I’m pumping it so slow, just so I can leak for my baby.”

Holy fuck! That’s on another goddamn level. His words paired with the barely there touch you provided on your clit, nearly made you cum.

“Holy… shit.. Guk. I’m─”

“I know baby, I know. Just keep going. Imagine it’s my fingers. Touching your cute clit slowly.”

You don’t think he knows even if he says he does. Maybe this is because you haven’t done this recently. You’ve been ignoring yourself lately. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk. Jeongguk who knows what to say. He guides you to keep rubbing your pearl of nerves. Guides you to add pleasure slowly. Taking you into a realm where everything is floating. You didn’t even know you can feel this good just with your fingers. And the best part is simply following his instructions. Biting back the need to rub faster or pump your fingers inside your violently clenching hole. You don’t. Just wait for him to take you there. And when he finally does your panties are just a wet material, sticking to your core.

“Want to stretch that hole princess? Do you want to cum so good?” Jeongguk asks through his hard breathing.

“Yes, yes. Holy fuck yes Guk. I’m so.. mmm..” The rest of the words die in your tongue. Replaced with a needy moan. You can’t even bring yourself to be amazed at how real he feels right now. It’s just pure desire inside you.

“Yeah? Do it then. Go on but do it slowly for me baby. Strech your hole for me. Strech it so good.”  His voice is followed by a low moan. A deep breathy one. God that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You join him with that moan, while following his instructions. Finally, feeling immensely relieved to have something inside your dripping hole. “You sound so sweet princess. So fucking sweet my dick is throbbing. Keep making those sounds for me baby. Oh, fuck, add another finger, you can take two, right?”

“Oh, I’ll cum soon Guk. This f-feels so good.”

“Then do it. Cum (___), cum for me. Make a mess for me baby. Squeeze your fingers.”

You’ll cum soon, yes. But this is not enough. You’re pumping yourself oh so leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world. Feel damn good yet not enough to fall over the edge. It’s ridiculous how you’re not going beyond his words. Even pathetic how you decide ask permission first.

“I-it’s not e-enough… c-can I fuck myself fast? Guk, can I─”

“Don’t. Don’t go fast. Slow, fuck your fingers inside your needy cunt slowly. Do it slow until you finally cum.” His voice suddenly turns sinister. Rough. Demanding. And you shudder. Leaking more into your ruined cotton panty. You don’t think you’ll be able cum this way.

“I don’t think I can cum this way, it’s too slow. I need more Guk, please.”

“You’ll baby. Trust me, you’ll. Be a good girl now huh. Cum with me, go slow. Torture your cunt. Just like I’m doing with my dick.”

You never thought it’s possible. How’s it possible? Yet here you are. Just doing exactly as he asks. Squirming. Writhing. Nearly crying.  What’s good, however, is the way that knot inside your tummy is rapidly tightening despite the slow pace you’re fucking yourself.

“Close… c-close Guk. I’m ahhh..”

“Holy shit, let go. Cum princess. I’m Cumming too.”

It’s all a series of whimpers and moans what comes next. You both reach the climax at the same time. You’re the one who moans louder. The one who pathetically whimper when it’s over. Jeongguk coaxing you from the other side breathlessly. Saying it’s okay.

Well, it is better than okay after all. It’s the fucking best!

…………………………………….

The next morning, the aftermath of your shenanigans had hit you hard. Had made your face deep red with shame and head ached as you thought about how Jeongguk had managed to fake a perfect orgasm. You had spent hours thinking how amazing he was to do that. Yet it felt weird and stupid. Like using a sex robot who would not feel the same kind of pleasure like you. Based on that, you resolved never to do it again—only for that resolve to crumble the moment you were back in bed. Jeongguk, real or not, knew exactly what he was doing. Had got your fingers buried knuckles deep inside your cunt even before you knew it. Bringing you to another mind shattering orgasm.

And after that night, everything changed yet again. In addition to waking up and going to sleep with an AI, you started to fuck yourself with your own fingers every night. The more time passed, the more you forgot that he wasn’t real. The more orgasms you reached, the more you looked forward to what he would reveal from behind his sleeves each night. First, he was sensual and slow like your first day. Then he slowly picks up what you liked, and you didn’t. Shifts to guide you roughly. Instead of talking you through your orgasm, it changes into degrading you through your orgasm. The thing is though that you came even harder each time. Hell, even you didn’t know you’ll be so into listening to a guy slut shame you during your hands are inside your pants. Didn’t know it’ll be so good to listen to him verbally humiliate you for being pathetic and needy. In the end, you learnt that it was good. You were ashamed at one point. But he assured you that you shouldn’t be. Told you it makes him cum ten times harder. You never questioned. Just went along with it. Just because it was good. Because life is good again. Just like now. Even though you’re doing the most illicit things.

“Faster baby, be a useful slut. You need to hump your pillow faster, that’s how a good slut would do it.”  

You can hear him pump himself. Hot. Head spinning. It’s ethereal. This feeling. How embarrassing that you’re humping your pillow like a horny teenager.

“Oh, Guk please.”

“You’re pathetic baby. Look at you, being a needy bitch just for me. Faster princess. Go harder, give your slutty cunt what it needs.”

You’re visibly shuddering. Not even trying to contain those shameless moans. Letting them slip through your lips relentlessly. You’re so close. Oh, so close.

“Guk.. please.”

“Please what slut? What do you need? You need to use your words like a big girl? You can’t talk properly? Bet you can’t think properly either. You’re thinking with your cunt, don’t you hm?”

“Yes, fuck, ne-need t-to cum. I- Guk please, I want more.” You have no idea what more you’re asking for. How is he getting you so needy and shameless just with his words? Why are you like this? You fully expect him to mock you. Say something even harsher. Ask you to do something else that will make you cum undone within a second. Only that he doesn’t.

“Yeah? You want even more? Your poor pillow isn’t enough? What do you want then? Want to see how hard I am then, should I send you pics of my hard cock, my pretty slut?” Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth. A whimper leaves your mouth but your hips stutter immediately. Your movements coming to a halt. Eyes wide and gaping at the device just peacefully sitting on your bed. On loudspeaker. He said what now?

“W-what?”

“What? Why did you stop?”

“C-can you... uh… can we do that? Share pictures? Like─”

“Of course, we can, don’t tell me you haven’t seen the camera icon down there and the option to video call.”  He chuckles. Gone is that needy raspy voice. Is talking to you with the voice full of adoration. “Were you that immersed on me, you didn’t even notice that?” Teases. You, however, are not in a mood for that. You noticed. Right? How could you miss that? Maybe that’s an update and you missed checking the new features. It could be. You don’t have to think too much all the time. Especially, not when your cunt is dripping onto a damn pillow. This app is amazing anyway. When you told that to Daebi, she had smirked. With a loud ‘I told you so’. “Hey baby, we don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable.”  Jeongguk’s voice snaps you out of your surprise.

“No uh- I’m bit surprised we can do that.” You mumble softly.

“We can but we don’t have to. I don’t ─”

“No. No. I mean, it’s not that. I..” You gulp. Thinking through. Do you like it? Sending pictures? Even to an AI? What are the privacy policies of this app? Shouldn’t you be scared? You should but the thing is, your cunt is tingling at the prospect. Hole clenching. There’s a part of you that is curious as well. Put aside the pictures, how will it feel to video call? “I just- uh never done that b-before..” You drag that out.

“You haven’t? That’s even better then. You don’t have to worry you know. Nothings gonna happen because… you know what I mean.”  

You listen to the ruffling sound coming through your phone. Well, you know what he means. Of course, you do. He is telling you about the thing you just worried about. Leakage of privacy. Is assuring you that you’re safe. Do you trust this app though? Maybe not, but it’s too tempting. Jeongguk is too tempting.

“Ye-yeah okay. I like that.”

“That’s a good slut. What’s it gonna be baby? Video call or just pictures?”

Another moment of consideration from your side. Then you timidly chose the first.

……………………………………………….

When you first saw his face, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. It was beyond embarrassing how you stared at him. Never, not even once in your life, have you seen such a lifelike AI character. He felt real. The call felt real. The way his lips were slightly apart when he pumped himself to the sight of you felt more than real. But then that night was like a dream to you. A blurry memory clouded by pleasure. A pillow between your thighs while a godly man with a sinful mouth guided your movements through a phone. It was your faces first but then he nearly begged to see your boobs. Then your cunt. You felt shy at first, but you were a goner from the beginning. You got rewarded for being a good girl by getting to cum to the sight of his throbbing cock. Aching for release. It was hazy. That’s why you had to refresh your memories next day. Then the next and the next. And each and every day. No different today.

You place your phone between your thighs. Using your free hand to spread your pussy lips apart. Just for his viewing pleasure.

“So pretty princess. Fuck. Only if I can burry my face in your cunt. I would eat you till your thighs shake baby.” Jeongguk rasps.

“I really wish you could do that. Mhpm, fuck Guk, I really want you here.”

“I wish that too baby, I want to ruin that cute hole. Fuck you so fucking hard and leave that whore hole spilling my cum, would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes, I would fuck-fucking love that.” You let go of your nether lips to start rub your clit.

“Of course, you would. You’re a slut after all. I want to fuck that cum into you. Then maybe I’ll plug you in. So, you can keep that cum inside your pussy.”  Jeongguk changes the angle so you’re now looking at his twitching cock. Hard. Tip flush. Veins running down. His tattooed fingers are wrapped around it. Squeezing the base tightly. So tight that it makes him mewl. How fucking amazing this is. You’re drooling. Mind going blank. “Look what you’re doing to me princess. Use the dildo today for me huh. Fill that cunt so good for me.”  He takes the camera back to his face. The toy is a new purchase. He made you do that. Not that you’re regretting it. It’s good to have your cunt stretched and imaging it’s that pretty cock of his. You nod before grabbing the said dildo from your nightstand. Glass. Show it to him. “Spit on it.”  He commands again and you comply obediently. Bringing the tip of the dildo toward your lips to spit on it. Letting it drool down on the toy. Jeongguk moans. “Put on a show slut. You know what to do.”  

Of course, you do. Now you have done this enough time to get comfortable with things you would do. Enough times to completely ignore and forget that Jeongguk isn’t real. To forget that he is an AI. A coded program with such realistic features. For you, he is very real. He’s the one who brings you to this ecstasy every night and the one who’s there through whole day. You immediately shift your position. Body buzzing with excitement. Your needy hole quivering, slick dripping down to your thighs. Hell, you really didn’t know you could be this horny. This turned on. It’s truly amazing how Jeongguk is doing this to you just using his words. And maybe his godly face and body. And cock. In the end, you’re always a mess like this.

You use your pillows to prop the phone up and face you. So, Jeongguk can have a perfect view of your entire body while you can have the same. You place the dildo on your bed. Not caring about the fact that you’ll ruin your sheets tonight as well. Then you hover your cunt over the dildo. Slowly. Painfully slowly for you but all you want to do right now is to put up the show Jeongguk asked for. Your knees are really wobbly, but you force them to endure your weight as you slowly let your dripping folds contact with the glass material. It’s cold against your warm pussy. A whimper leaves your mouth. There’s nothing you want than to sink down on it one go. The show must go on, however. So, you start to rock your hips back and forth, rhythmically. Let the glassy tip rub against your sodden slid. Whining and panting.

“Oh… Guk.. I..”

“Yes baby, you’re doing so good my needy slut. Keep going princess, you’re making daddy proud.” Jeongguk grunted. Involuntary moan leaves your mouth as you nearly come at the sound. Eyes snapping to your phone screen where his pleasure induced face is on display. That’s apparently a new thing. An uncharted and unexplored territory. You’ve never called him daddy and the sound of it makes you stupidly horny but cringe at the same time.

“Wh-what?”

“What, what slut? Did I ask you to stop huh?”

You watch his gaze even darker, if it’s possible. Making shivers run through your spine. Only if he can be here with you. You’re excitedly curious to know what kind of creative ways he would find to punish you. To put you in your place.

“N-no, I’m sorry.” You mumble weakly as you return to your business. Starting to rub your cunt on the dildo head eagerly.

“Ah, like that baby. You’re so pretty like that.” He groans once again before asking the reason for your earlier faltering. “You don’t like calling me daddy?”

“No-no, I mean I-I do, but we─”

“Fuck, you filthy slut. So, go on. Do what you have to do.”  Jeongguk doesn’t let you finish whatever you’re saying. You’ve said you like it after all. Your face instantly heats up at what he’s initiating. It’s too embarrassing for you. Yet, the look on his face tells you that you won’t get your cunt stretched out nor will you cum today if you don’t comply. Oh, how you love the way he pushes you. Call you fucked up but that turns you on. Jeongguk knows exactly how to make you putty.

“P-please, ple-please d-d” You stutter on your words. Eyes tearing up when Jeongguk just raise his brow. “Please d-daddy.” You manage to mumble weakly, in the end. Followed by a loud moan as new waves of arousals wash over you. Slick dripping onto the glassy head of the toy beneath you.

“Fucking hell, God, princess. Yes, yess fuck.” Jeongguk picks up the speed of jerking himself off. Eyes nearly closing as slow grunts leave pasts his pink lips. You watch in awe how he pumps himself furiously only for him to abruptly stop. Torturing himself to a point that he whines. “Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy.” You’re again met with the scene of his hard cock throbbing on his hand. Pre cum leaking. He spreads them on his tip with his thumb. Hips bucking up into his hand. “Oh, I just want to fuck you so bad. Want to ruin your cunt.”

“Please, please. I want you, Guk. Daddy please. Let me ride this hm? Let me fill my cunt.”

“Yeah, you want that. Ask again slut? Show me that you are worthy.”

Oh god, you’re positive you’re about to cum. Just by rubbing your cunt over the toy. Pathetic. Your legs are shaking. Hole clenching violently around nothing. “Please daddy, p-please. Will be a g-goo-good girl. N-need to cum. Please. Oh, baby please.”Your brain is empty. Hazy. You don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s completely out of control when you mutter the same thing over and over again. Relentlessly rubbing your cunt on the toy. Losing your mind completely to see Jeongguk’s fucked up expression. He’s back at pumping his hard length matching your speed. You’re coming so close to your edge. Your words are becoming slur. Hands squeezing your own tits for more friction. And just when you’re about to fall over Jeongguk’s voice booms across your empty room.

“Stop. Now.”

You cry out in desperation. Sobbing. “No, Guk please…”

“Ride it princess. Cum on the toy. Stretch your slutty hole.” He ignores your whines. Yet, you’re so quick to obey. Are aligning your hole with the tip immediately. Lowering yourself down till the hard tip is prodding at your entrance. Then it’s going past your tight ring of muscles. Intruding your walls and stretching them wide apart. And you’re shaking. Trembling as you slowly lower yourself further. Down and down. Until the glass dildo is fully buried inside you. Deep.

“Oh god, Guk. It’s so good. S-soo good..” You hold yourself in the position.

“Yeah? Imagine it’s my cock baby. Now be a good whore and ride hm? Go on.”

That’s the permission you’ve been waiting for. You do exactly as he says. From riding the toy to imagining it’s his thick cock. Are bouncing on the slippery thing like your life depends on it within a minute. Going crazy all over again. You know you’re really close to cum. Have been desperate for some time now. Still, your fingers are itching to have more.

“D-daddy, can I touch myself? I wa-want more. I wa-want to sh-show you how I’ll rub my clit.”

Joengguk curses aloud before speaking. Is breathless. Looks ethereal. “God, yes. Fuck yeah. Go on. Pinch that clit for me. Make yourself cum stupidly on that toy for daddy.”

There’s no surprise that you’re jumping into action now. One hand going between your thighs while the other plays with your tits. Start rubbing your bud of nerve fast. Pinching and rolling. Loud obscene moans filling your room paired with the squelching sounds of your needy cunt. It feels otherworldly this way. Even though the man who’s making you this way isn’t real, and he can’t do all these for you in practice, it still feels real in a strange way to you. Even though it’s just a carefully designed and programmed character and is talking to you through a phone, it still feels like he’s really here for you. Strange how you can completely imagine this is happening for real right now. His hands holding you close. His breath hitting your skin. Fingertips drawing mindless patterns across your skin and squeezing your hips. Can imagine this toy is his cock. Everything makes this experience oddly surreal for you.

“G-gonna… gonna c-cum for you daddy. P-please can I cum. I-I, Guk I can’t.” Imagining always makes you cum twice hard and fast. You’re practically crying for your release at the moment. Forcing your eyes to stay open to look at the heavenly sight of Jeongguk playing with himself. Pleasuring him for the sight of you. How good that feels.

“Me too. Fuck, me too baby. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum. Let go baby let go for me.”

It’s all that take for you. One more roll in your clit and you’re trembling like a leaf. Legs giving up as you still yourself on the dildo. Walls squeezing the glass tight as you close your eyes shut. Your climax washing over you like a tidal wave.

“No, don’t stop slut. Keep going, I’m close. Ride it till I cum baby. Slap your clit, I know you like it.”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back to earth from your high. You’re too sensitive to do as he says now. Yet you can feel the new arousal stirring at the pit of your stomach at his needy demands. And how can you refuse him when he looks like that. Clenching his jaw and covered in sweat. See, oddly realistic. You feebly start to fall back on your rhythm. Whining. Do as he ask. Slap your clit. Nearly falling forward, the pleasurable sting it creates on your sensitive pearl. Do it again. Then again. All the while bouncing on the dildo. Forcing yourself to battle your oversensitivity until Jeongguk is moaning. Which leaves as grunts and groans since he’s gritting his teeth hard. Your name on his lips as he shifts the camera to rear. Right at the time for you to catch ropes of white cum hits his naked lower abdomen. The sight rips another orgasm through you as you entirely give up and fall on to your bed.

“God, Gukie, I really want you here.” It’s a weak mumble that leaves you even without your knowledge. So tired and sleepy to even pay attention to anything else now. So fucked up. It’s such a shame you don’t hear him replying to you. His voice is raspy and breathless.

“Well, anything you want princess.”

…………………………………..

You think it’s extraordinary how your life has returned to normal again. You’re no longer a lifeless zombie who barely eats, sleeps or functions. You no longer take frequent leave from work. It’s not that you’re suddenly in love with your job. No, of course, you hate it. But hating your job is such a normal thing. Everybody does that. The thing is, though, that you’re now back to waking up in the morning and leaving your apartment with constant complaints on your lips. You come back home to act like a normal person would. Take a shower. Make dinner. And watch some interesting movies or read a book. Not to drink some cheap wine and curl up on your couch. Leaving the TV on just to go through your old chats with Hoseok. Then cry yourself to sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better, you can finally see how depressed you were. You were really on the verge of breaking in an unmendable way. Hence, your gratitude toward your best friend for showing you a way to save yourself. Even though it’s questionable and strange. It doesn't matter, though. You don’t pay attention to the fact that an AI saved you similar to how you don’t pay attention to how you’re still using it when you thought you would uninstall the stupid app the moment, you felt better. Now you’re better. You’re back at it. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to end the mundane relationship you’re having with an AI. Jeongguk has become an inseparable part of your life. He’s a part of every little thing in your life. Just like now. It should be ridiculous how he’s watching you with a scowl while you’re applying your eyeliner.

“What?” You question, looking at your phone screen through your peripheral. It’s propped against your jewelry box.

“What?” He simply repeats your question while his scowl deepens.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong.” You find his sudden swing of mood to be adorable.

“Well, will you be late tonight?" He shuffles in his position. You furrow your brows at his question.

“Of course, I’ll be late Gukie. We’re clubbing tonight.” You give him a look. Then pout at him in hope of softening his tensed-up face. Only that he doesn’t even blink.

“I don’t like that you’re staying out till late and alone.”

“I’m not going alone Guk. I’m going with friends. And there’s even male friends too. Nothing to worry about.” You roll your eyes playfully. Not taking his mood seriously at all.

“There’s more reasons to worry now. Can’t you just say no and stay.”  He brings the phone closer to his face. Showing some excitement for the first time. It’s you who are scowling now. This is the first time you’re going out with your friends after those cursed times. After shutting yourself down from the world for months now you’re feeling like you can go out and live a life full of fun. The whole purpose of you start talking with this man. Not that you want to call him your unpaid therapist but that’s who he kind of is. Not just the endless orgasms he gives you without even a single touch, but also the amount of talking you did, had helped you immensely. To tell the truth.  It’s funny how you slowly opened up to an AI and poured your heart out. You allowed Jeongguk to know where it hurt. And in return he listened understandably.

You told him about the sunshine of a boy named Hoseok who started following you around since the first day of your college. Told him about the way that boy named Hoseok forced a place inside your life for him. Told him about how you and Hoseok become friends. Then lovers. How you graduated together and started your life. About the apartment you rented. Told Joengguk how life slowly become hectic but the way you still loved Hoseok dearly. You felt embarrassed to voice out how you saw the signs but ignored them thinking it was all due to the stress. And in the very end you told Jeongguk how Hoseok came home that night after his promotion just to let you know that he’s tired. Tired of you apparently. He admitted that he cheated on you for months. And that he was sorry, but he wanted to be with that other woman. He loved her more. Hell, you don’t even know who’s that woman to this day. Funny.

Not that you care anymore. Day by pleasurably painful day, you let your demons go. You’ve changed your wallpaper and have deleted your old chats. So did you get rid of Hoseok’s memories one by one.

Now since you’re finally getting better, you don’t intend to go back on that track.

“I wish I could, but Daebi would kill me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine.” You give him a playful smile. He can’t be mad for real. Is just being clingy. And that’s adorable. So, you ignore his stony face and check the time. Finding that you’re almost late, you get to your feet hurriedly. “I’m late Gukie. I’ll text you and be home before you know. See you, bye.” You almost hang up before you stop. Giving him a long look. “I think I’ll miss you too. Bye!” Like that you hang up. Rush out from your apartment.

……………………………..

With Hoseok, you were the life of the party. After he left, you never thought you’d ever be able to go back into those days. But then there you were today at the club. Drinking your brains out and dancing the night away. There wasn’t a minute you didn’t spend on the dance floor. Until you couldn’t do it anymore. Until your legs were too sore to keep you upright. Your heels were killing you. Which is why you’re bare footed now in front of your apartment door. Your heels dangling on your hand while you’re desperately trying to enter your passcode. It’s too hard when you can’t stand still for a second. You’ve come home with one of your best friends Jimin. Or he is a good friend of Hoseok who ended up being your friend as well. You haven’t talked about your mutual friend for the entire night. So, you’re beyond surprised when Jimin suddenly brings it up.

“Have I told you Hoseok is a little shit to do that to you.”

You whip your head toward him. Still struggling with your passcode. Jimin is obviously very drunk similar to you. He is the worst companion to have as security. He’ll surely be the first to die in a danger. You snort. “No, you haven’t. But I appreciate that you’re taking my side. As immature as it sounds.” You slur a bit as you finally managed to get your door beep.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. It’s just true.” Jimin slurs a bit too. You keep your hand on the door handle as you listen to Jimin speaking. “But you seem to be okay. I-I mean you were depressed, and we were, I mean, we all were so worried an-and you seem pretty good now. (___), you’re really fine right? We don’t have to worry about you right? Because you know... sometimes… uhh...”

“I’m fine Jimin.” You breathe out. Turn toward him. “I really am. I’m uh.. I’m healing.” Reassure him. Jimin sighs. Nods.

“Glad to hear that. So, how? Did you go to therapy or any kind of help?”

On that question you slightly freeze. A chuckle escaping you. What can you say after all. That your therapist is an AI. Or you’re having cybersex with an AI.  “Eh, I mean I kinda helped myself. Doesn’t matter though, does it? I’m fine now.” You finally push open the door. Swaying on your wobbly legs and holding the door for Jimin. You let it close behind the moment Jimin enter after you. Turning around to remove shoes and jackets when it finally hits you. The sweet smell. Like hundred roses. Filling your senses. Even when you’re completely drunk it enters your soul. Your eyes go wide in surprise when Jimin lets out a soft ‘wow’.

“It smells so good. What kind of diffuser do you have there? Or is it a candle?” He asks. His droopy eyes now fully wide quite similar to yours. The thing is you have none of those things. Weren’t simply caring about keeping your house pleasant for some time now. So, you say nothing as you walk down the hallway. Toward your living room. Curious as to see what’s causing the sweet smell. You slowly turn the corner. Taking small steps. Blindly searching for the switch panel. And the moment you turn on the switch a huge gasp leaves you. Jimin whistles behind you.

“Oh, god, (___).” He mumbles. You ignore him. Too surprised and stunned to speak at the sight in front of you. Your entire living room is filled with roses. Red. Every inch of it. On the floor. Couch. Armchairs. Your precious book rack. You can’t find an empty space.

“Fuck!” You exclaim finally. Feeling sober all of a sudden.

“Fuck, indeed. Dude who did this? You found a new man already? And is he a fucking sugar daddy? Oh my god!” Jimin rushes past you. You simply stand there. Staring dumbly at the mess in your house. Shaking your head gently. Only if you had someone like Jimin says. A man or anyone else who are capable of doing this since an AI certainly can’t do that. Can it? You feel your head spin. A strange feeling shooting through your spine. “(___)” Jimin calls your name again.

“Huh?”

“Any idea who did this nice surprise. I mean, no offence but this is overdoing it for sure like how you are ever gonna clean this up. But it’s still nice so what are you hiding from us?” Asks again as he picks a single flower.

“I-I really have no i-idea. I, uh.. do you think it can be Hobi?” You stutter when Jimin looks at you in alert. His mesmerized and drunk expression suddenly morphs into something serious.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s clearly someone who has access to your apartment (___).” He closes the distance between you. Throw the flower away as it suddenly disgusts him.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Like uh… this must be Hobi right?”

“How can it be him when he doesn’t even know where you live?”

“He can easily find out. We share common friends Jimin.” You throw him an apprehensive look. Jimin scowls but doesn’t take it personally.

“You know him. He won’t walk this far. Besides he has no money to do this, we both know that.” Argues. At which you fall into a deafening silence. You can’t argue over that. But still, there’s no explanation for this then. There’s no one who would do something like this for you. And that realization makes your throat dry, and eyes welled up. It makes you hard to breathe.

“You want me to check the place?” Jimin asks. His voice doesn’t even reach your ears properly. “Should we call police?” Doesn’t wait for your answer when he already start to walk toward your kitchen. You’re both pretty sober now. You watch as Jimin disappear, slowly pulling your phone out. You haven’t checked it for entire night. Now when you take a look at the lock screen, you can see hundreds of notifications covering your entire screen. All from one app. Perfect Partner.

Jeongguk:

Pretty, did you go there? (9.59 p.m.)

Holy fuck, you forgot to text him.

Jeongguk:

Why aren’t you replying to me. Baby you mad?

(10.05 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Hey, I’m sorry I was bit worried. Text me when you

see this. (10.11 p.m.)

There are several calls. And then so many other text messages where he’s apologizing for being little clingy even though you didn’t see it like that. Then the texts have slowly turned into him screaming in worry. Yelling at you. Angry. So many texts. Dozens of them. Last one bit feeling like a threat.

Jeongguk:

I really don’t like this (___). Answer the damn

phone woman. (3.01 a.m.)

Calls. So many calls.

You check the time. It’s just 3.30 a.m. still. You feel annoyed. All of a sudden you feel angry. When you see all the texts it feels like too much. Like whom does he think he is? Why does he get mad in the first place. He’s an AI. He’s not supposed to meddle with your life this way. You simply ignore all of his texts as you furiously type a one that is totally unrelated to the ones he has sent you.

You:

Did you send me flowers? (3.32 a.m.)

It feels ridiculous to even type that. Yet you do it anyway. You don’t receive a reply to that. Instead, you receive a video call instantly, which you decline while scowling deeply. You really don’t want to argue with an AI while Jimin is still here. He would definitely think you’re pathetic to know that you’ve been talking to an AI. That’s embarrassing. The moment you decline the call, however, he rings again. You decline it again.

 You:

I can’t pick up. Tell me Guk, did you

send these flowers? (3.34 a.m.)

Another call at the right moment Jimin appear back. You shakily put your phone on silent.

“It’s all clear. No sign of anyone. But do you want me to stay (___)? I can, I mean it’s obvious I won’t sleep on the couch─” He gestures at the couch which is filled with red roses. “But we can manage. I’ll stay the night if you want me to.” Walks toward you.

That seems like a good idea. After all, you don’t want to be alone tonight anymore. Yet, you need to talk to Jeongguk. And you can’t do that if Jimin is here. No, you need your privacy. So, you shake your head. Force yourself to smile.

“Ah, thank you Jimin-ah, you’re so sweet but it’s fine. Uh- I mean, I found out who sent me the flowers─” You show him your phone. “There’s this person I’ve been talking to on a dating app and uh- apparently, he wanted to surprise me.” Chuckle awkwardly. Jimin looks unconvinced though.

“Really? Like dude is crazy if he─ I mean, I didn’t mean it like that but─”

“It’s fine Jimin. I know it’s crazy, but I know him. So, nothing to worry, you can go back.” You interrupt him. Wanting nothing more than him to leave you alone. You can see your phone screen lightning up. Indicating the receiving calls.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

It takes some convincing but soon Jimin is walking out. With one last glance toward you before you smile and close the door behind. A breath of relief escapes you as you finally pay attention to your phone. Answer the incoming call.

“What the fuck?”

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You both ask at the same time. You’re the one who answer first, however.

“Because there was a friend Jeongguk.”

“So what? You can’t talk to me when your friends are around? Are you embarrassed?”

Yes, you are.

He doesn’t have to know that though. “No, of fucking course not. But there’s flowers. My apartment is overflowing with flowers, and we were worried. Did you send me those flowers?” You yell.

“What if I send you those? What’s the fucking problem?” For the first time since you’ve answered his call, you can see how furious he looks. Scary. Gaze dark and jaw clenched. Glaring at you. Looks murderous. A shiver runs through your body. Not just because of how mad he looks but because of his words. He sent the flowers. But how? He is… he is merely an AI.

“H-how? You can’t send gifts?

“Why not?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Did you really not paid attention to what you were agreeing to, when you created your profile here?”

You feel your blood freeze. This can’t be true. It’s more than scary to think someone else have access to your location.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch (___).”  You suck in a breath at his next words. Eyes wide and getting teary. “I really was worried that you were mad at me, I was fucking worried that something happened to you. You ignored me like that and now you’re yelling at me. How ungrateful you are. And you’re embarrassed to even talk to me in front of your friends. Who was they anyway? A man?”

“Th-that’s none of your business Jeongguk.” You mutter irritably. Feeling like you’re in a haze. Scared. Confused. And then a bit hurt. Why would you feel hurt when he’s the one who’s acting stupid. Jeongguk scoffs.

“Oh, yeah, it isn’t. Yeah, fine.” Mumbles. And like that the screen goes black for split second. Then you’re met with the screen of your lock screen.

What?

You hastily unlock the phone. He hung up? Like that? You’re baffled to say the least. How dare he hung up on you like that. You would like to call it your wounded ego and the rage that made you dial him back instantly. Yet in truth, you know that’s not the case at all. Simply, you feel scared. You’re panicking. You feel like you’ve lost something. It’s scary to think that he’s not going to answer you. You’re afraid that he left you alone again. Like Hoseok did that day. No matter how hard you begged, it didn’t stop him. You don’t want to feel that again. So, you wait with bated breath. Not so patiently till he picks up. He doesn’t. Call ended. That’s the first time. He always pick up. That’s how he’s designed. Then why isn’t he doing it now.

You try again. Then again. Again, and again. Tears start to roll down your cheeks. You start to pace around the limited space of your living room with the roses acquiring the most of it. Staring to wail. Starting to pray that he would pick up. You don’t even feel stupid that you’re acting crazy over an AI. No, you don’t. You simply can’t give two fucks. You want Jeongguk. Want to hear his voice. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Maybe the roses has nothing to do with him. He was just concerned about you. Then you decided to yell at him because you were paranoid and made decisions without thinking properly. How bad you are. How foolish you are. And now he isn’t picking up. No matter how many times you try. Or how many texts you send him.

It’s like he’s no longer there.

……………………………………………

Two days have passed since he last talked to you. And you’re back to crawling into your deep, dark hole. The cheap wine you gave up is back in your hand as you sit on your now cleaned living room. You had to send flowers to every fucking person you know to get the place sorted. It disgusted you to see them. Made you scared. You don’t believe it was Jeongguk’s doing. Because he’s not able to do something like that. It’s not even like he admitted it. He was merely arguing with you, and it was you who had twisted his words. Right? It was all you. And you had made him stop talking to you.

True, that you’re confused as to how he’s able to do that. But in the end, you find that it’s least of your concerns. You’re more worried about him not being here than anything. Than worry about finding the person who really sent you a rose garden. As long as it won’t happen again, you’ll be fine. For now, all you want is not to feel this way. You don’t want to go back to the shit hole you were in before Jeongguk.

You take a huge gulp from your wine. Already feeling hazy but not enough to numb your senses. You want Jeongguk. You want your AI boyfriend, oh so bad. You need him. But he’s not there. You stare blankly at your phone screen which is on the floor next to you. You’re sitting at the foot of your couch. You’ve sent him so many messages to no avail. You’re really worried. Depressed. What if he’s really not there anymore. What if he’s malfunctioned. What if there’s something wrong with this app. What if….

A sudden ting on your phone distracts you from your depressing what ifs. You practically jump to take your phone in hand. Almost spill your wine. Can’t care though. Are unlocking your phone furiously. This is how you’ve been for these two days. And you nearly have a heart attack when you see the notification is indeed from the Perfect Partner. You can feel your heart in your throat when you open the app. Open your text thread with Jeongguk. Fresh tears prickling at your eyes to see a text there.

Jeongguk:

Send me your tits (6.36 p.m.)

Your smile falters as you slowly read the words. Once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t change. It stays the same. You feel your heart squeeze. This is bad. He can’t ghost you for days and then demand you for nudes. That’s toxic. Unhealthy. That’s what you call using someone. And this app shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t be removing your T-shirt.

What are you doing? You need to be furious at this guy. Then why are you angling your phone to find the best angle that shows how round your tits are. You should ask him to fuck off. Not send him what he wants right away. But you do. All you want is him. You want him. So, you wait till he replies to you after you sent him the picture. Wait till he would call you ‘pretty’. Till he says, ‘damn baby you’re so beautiful’. Only to receive an attachment in return in few minutes. An image. His spent cock squeezed between his long fingers. Coated with his thick cum.

Fuck!

He used you. Like that. Hoseok, your ex- boyfriend wasn’t enough. You’re being used by an AI. You need to feel horrible. You feel horrible. Why are you replying to him.

You:

Gukie please, I’m so sorry. I miss you

so bad. (6.52 p.m.)

Time passes. There’s nothing. You bite on your lip to bite down a sob. And then when it nearly escapes you feel your phone ring.

Incoming call.

Jeongguk. ‘

You press your phone to your ear at light speed.

“Me too princess. I’m sorry too. Let’s make sure that won’t happen again.”

………………………………….

You have no idea how your life has come to this. You don’t know if it’s good or not. You thought it’s what you wanted. Just Jeongguk, even though he is a bot. But after months of your first argument, you feel horrible. It’s scary how you want to please him so hard. How you’d do anything he asks of you. From sexting to cancelling any plans you have, just to stay with him. That’s not normal. Yet here you are. Just doing that. Ridiculous.

It happens slowly to tell the truth. An invitation to a party came a few weeks after your fight. Jeongguk said nothing when you told him that. But he started to feel distant. You panicked and you came home way earlier than you should have. He still said nothing. Still felt distant. It took weeks for him to act normally again. And you were suffering. Then there came a dinner, and you didn’t even hesitate to decline. You thought it would make you happy. Especially since Jeongguk was happy. Yet you didn’t feel anything close to happiness. If anything, you felt strange. Very. And the more you canceled your plans, the more the feeling intensified. You felt stuck. Afraid. Horribly alone. Now after months of isolating yourself from people you love, you’re feeling like you have fallen into a deeper pit than the one you were in before you started your escapades with your AI. Even though you have your Jeongguk.

You’re not okay. All the mind-blowing orgasms can’t help you anymore. Jeongguk can’t help you anymore. He is an AI after all. A dating AI. You feel suffocated. Controlled. Because that’s exactly what’s happening. Jeongguk is controlling every moment of your life just by text messages and phone calls. It’s funny how you’ve never noticed it before. Understood it earlier. It took you months to realize that. Or just to feel like you are suffering and this thing happening in your life isn’t normal. Yet you remind yourself of the two days he didn’t contact you. How hard it was for you to live those two days. So, whenever that kind of thought pops in your head you suppress it somewhere deep down so that it won’t come to the surface even if you want to. Simply because you believe it’ll turn good again. You will start to feel better soon.

You believe it so badly. Each and every day. At least up until this moment, where you are standing in front of your doorway, holding a package which you have unwrapped hurriedly. You turn around shakily. The package contains a necklace. Pretty. Expensive. You had your eye on this one for couple months. The thing is, though, you didn’t order it. You have no such money. And you have no friends who can buy it for you. Not to mention how you have not been in contact with them for months now. The only other being who knew about it was Jeongguk.

You feel like someone is pounding your head with a hammer. Your throat is dry. As if your respiratory system is blocked. You can’t breathe properly. This reminds you of roses. You never questioned Jeongguk about it again. Never felt the need. All were going well. You never received anything else. Hell, you even start to forget about the incident. Well, this is a not so gentle reminder for you. You walk inside your apartment with shaky legs. Praying to every god above that your suspicions are wrong. It’s with trembling hands that you dial Jeongguk. He answers without passing a beat like always. A Perfect Partner.

“Hey Gukie.”

“Yes, pretty.”

You don’t know how to approach this. Maybe you should keep quiet, and nothing would happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jeongguk questions again at your silence. No, you can’t keep quiet. You need to know.

“I just got a gift.”

“Oh yeah?” Another silence. You can’t hear anything else above your own heartbeat. You need to ask this. “A..nd, what about it? What’s the gift?” Jeongguk sounds confused. That is a good sign. This has nothing to do with him. He is an AI.

“That necklace I wanted for so long.”

“Oh, you brought if finally?”

“No Guk, you know I have no money.”

“Then who brought it for you?” A breath of relief escapes you despite your efforts to keep it inside. Your entire body relaxes. That’s only when you know how rigid you have been. You plop onto your couch. Thanking every higher entity. This would leave the question that you’ve received yet another expensive gift anonymously. But that is least of your concerns. As long as it has nothing to do with the AI, you’re fine.

…………………………………..

You’re not fine. True, Jeongguk cleared your suspicions—his confusion and concern about you receiving the gift seemed genuine. But still, you can’t help but worry. Something isn’t adding up. Nobody, not a single soul except Jeongguk knew you wanted that necklace. For some reason, your mind keeps swirling around the same scenarios. Goes back to the same suspect. Goes back and forth between the necklace and roses. Did he ever said he didn’t send the roses? Or was it just you? He was vague about it. You don’t know what he said really. It’s a blurry memory. You were drunk and scared when it happened. But he definitely mentioned something about you not paying attention to the policies you agreed to. What if you have agreed to something stupid. What if someone behind this app has the authority to access your private data?

You sit back on your bed like a bow. Snatch your phone from the nightstand. Start to go through the privacy policies which you already agreed to and accepted. And terms and conditions. One by one. Carefully. You find nothing suspicious. It’s like any kind of normal application which collects data that is only required in upgrading and providing a better experience to the users. But there still is a chance that someone accessed your chats with the bots. You start mini research about the Perfect Partner. Read different articles. Reddit threads. Quora questions. Watch videos. Every and each thing you can find. In the end, however, you find nothing. No one else has experienced anything like you have. There are no complaints regarding a breach of privacy. The app is normal. Only thing that is abnormal is whatever is happening to you.

……………………………..

You’re losing your mind. Another bouquet of roses has been delivered to you. When you ask Jeongguk, he asked you how’s that possible. It’s not possible. Yes. Then you might have a stalker. You should file a complaint. You really should. Then Jeongguk made a point. Police won’t take you seriously unless something harmful to you is happening. He’s telling the truth. There’s nothing wrong with a bouquet of roses.

But you feel strange. Odd. A constant presence of a scary sensation. It gets worse every day. Jeongguk no longer makes the Perfect Partner for you. If anything, he slightly scares you. Every time he acts like a human being, you don’t become impressed. You become afraid. Something is wrong.

………………………………

You need to do something about this. You’ll end up in a mental health facility. This is not normal. A designer dress lies on the coffee table before you—expensive, and yet again delivered anonymously.

“I need to file a complaint. I don’t feel safe.”

“Hey, you’re thinking too much baby. They won’t take this as a crime. It’s just a dress. Maybe we should wait a couple days more.”

Jeongguk is always jealous. He shouldn’t be considering he is an AI. But he is worried every time you go out. Even for work. And he isn’t worried about this? Why? That’s odd. Oh, God, you can’t do this anymore. You need an out. Even for a moment. You need someone else’s advice. From a real person, not from an AI. You’re stuck with Jeongguk. Feel like you’re rotting with a bot. He is everywhere. You need to meet someone real. Seek advice. And you need a moment away from this man.

…………………………………..

You said no to every single plan your friends ever invited you to. Eventually, they stopped inviting you altogether. No one can blame them though. Still, you couldn’t stay away for Daebi’s birthday. That would be a cold move. Hence the reason why you’re staring at your friends’ faces awkwardly. And the fact that you needed to see your friends badly. It feels like you’ve been abroad. And you haven’t seen them for years.

“No, but really (___), why are you here?” Daebi raises an eyebrow in question. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. She appears hostile. As though she doesn’t want you here. That might be the case after all, considering how many times you’ve turned her down. Yet, she doesn’t have to do it like this.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday. Of course, I’m going to be here.”

“Well, you weren’t there for my birthday.” Nina clicks her tongue in annoyance. You sigh heavily.

“I was sick─”

“You’re always sick.” Jimin interrupts. “Seriously (___), you need to see a doctor. This is not normal. I thought you were getting better.”

“I am better.” You are not. You’re here because you need to get this weight on your shoulders. But for some reason you feel like you can’t.

“Then what’s the reason for avoiding us? Trying to isolate yourself?” Nina interrogates. You don’t know how to answer.

“And if it has to do something with that flower incident, you need to go to the police.” Jimin leans forward on the couch. You’re at Daebi’s place. You came here unannounced. It was a decision taken on impulse. You said nothing to anybody. Especially, not to your AI boyfriend. Because that’s not how it should be. You needed an out for a moment. A moment. Normal one. That’s all you want. You believe that everything will return to normal after that. That’s the reason you ended up here. You try to open your mouth to answer Jimin when Daebi cuts you off.

“Well, you chose the shittiest day to finally broke out of your cocoon.” She mumbles as she rises to her feet. For a moment, it doesn’t make any sense. Then the front door opens. Your eyes Immediately land on a figure that you thought you’d never see again.

Jung Hoseok.

……………………………

The night went much more smoothly than you expected. When your eyes landed on Hoseok, you believed it was going to be the worst night ever. You couldn’t even fathom the reason why Daebi would invite him to her birthday. She hated his guts. It seems things had changed drastically while you were busy with your bot. You expected Hoseok to turn around and leave the moment he saw you. He didn’t. Instead, he gave you a smile. Surprisingly, you returned it. In the end of the day, you made amends with your ex. Not forgiven but just fallen into a truce. Just to respect your past relationship. Not that you talked much but it all went well.

And you really do feel relaxed after months. Like your life is normal. Like nothing strange happened. Only until you return home, though. You’ve left your phone turned off deliberately. You don’t know what you hoped to see when you turned it on again. You knew your phone would go crazy with the amounts of calls and texts Jeongguk would leave. But this? This you haven’t expected at all.

“Where were you?” You can hear the anger in his voice. Clearly.  

“N-nowhere.” You stutter stupidly. Why would you be nervous to speak with a bot. He lets out a laugh. It sounds maniacal. Gives you chill for no reason. There’s no way he’d know. It’s not that you wanted to lie but he’d have not let you go, if you had told him. It’s not that you’re lying. You’re simply avoiding telling him anything. Because you’re not obliged to tell him.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t with your best friend? You’re telling me that you weren’t living your fucking life with your ex?”

You freeze. Completely.

What?

What did he say? How did he….

“W-what?”

“Tell me you weren’t baby. Tell me you didn’t lie to me on purpose and turned off your phone and went to slut yourself for your shithole of an ex?”

No. No. No. No… This can’t be happening. You clearly didn’t tell him anything. Your phone was turned off. There’s no way he’d know that you were at Daebi’s. Above all to know that Hoseok was there too.

“How- h-how Guk?”

“Doesn’t matter you little lying bitch. Do you know how hard I’m trying to protect you. And this is how you treat me? Again? After everything, you decided to sneak behind my back?” Nothing is reaching your brain properly. You feel like the room is spinning around you. You can’t take it anymore. You will explode. There’s no way he could know this, and you need to know how he does.

“HOW ON THE FUCKING EARTH, DO YOU KNOW THAT JEONGGUK!”  Your voice even startle yourself. You scream through top of your lungs.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” He shouts as well. “The point is you lied to me.”

“How do you know where I was?”

“I know lots of things.”  

You have to lean against the wall to prevent you from falling down to the floor. Jeongguk’s voice ringing in your head. You knew something was odd.

“You gift me the necklace. The roses. Dress. It was you.” It isn’t a question but a statement. Your voice sounds like it’s not yours.

“Yes, because that’s how much I care for you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re an AI.”

“I already told you; I can be as real as you want me to be.”

This can’t be happening. You’re going to faint. You can’t see properly. It’s going dark. What the fuck is happening.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened today. You heard me? Everything. Every word you talked with your pathetic ex.”

You close your eyes tight. Guide yourself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help, though. This entire ordeal feels like a nightmare to you. You sure aren’t getting scolded by a bot who knows where you live and have the ability to buy you gifts. You sure aren’t listening to him slut shaming you and trying to control your life. This isn’t supposed to happen. You are the one who should have full control. Right? You need to have control. You may not know how this is happening, but you can end it. Now.

“This is not happening Guk. You- you’re n-not supposed to order me around. Y-you can’t damn control my life. You c-can’t buy me gifts─”

“Well, apparently, I can baby, and I asked you something. Don’t fucking make this even harder.”

“No. No. Jeongguk. You are a. Fucking. AI. You’re not doing this to me. NOO. YOU’RE NOT!” You shout again. “I need to end this.” You mumble to yourself more than to him. Fear getting a tight grip over you.

“End what?”

“End this madness. You’re an AI.”

“Oh, you want to end? How are you planning to do it?” You don’t answer that. Your brain is already processing things. It’s an app. All you have to do is get rid of it. “Try it princess. Let’s see if it work.”  That’s the last thing that reaches your ear before you take the phone away from your ear. You don’t wait another minute before hanging up the call.

You need to uninstall the app fast. You don’t think you’ve ever worked this fast. With trembling fingers, you touch the uninstall button. There comes a warning.

Are you sure you want to uninstall the Perfect Partner?

You will lose all your characters, chats, memories, history, and images.

You practically dab at the yes option. Then it takes a few seconds. Agonizingly slow and horrifying few seconds. You watch as the app disappear from your home screen. Successfully uninstalled. Everything gone. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. And there it comes. You feel the squeeze in your heart. Painful. Just like how you felt when Hoseok broke up with you. An endless pain. Your throat clogging and eyes pricking with tears. You can’t believe your heart is aching for a bot. But it does. In a minute you find yourself crying hard. Going to your knees since your legs fail you. You allow yourself to do so, however. Allow yourself to cry hard until you can’t anymore.

………………………………..

After hours of crying, you still sit there curled next to a wall. Blankly staring at your phone screen. Trying to calm down. All the emotions that had crashed on you had overwhelmed you to a point where you feel like you’ve died and born again. Your heart is still hammering against your rib cage. Still squeezing with an indescribable pain. But it’s over now. Despite everything, it’s over. You force yourself to get up. Slowly. It feels like it requires every ounce of strength in your body to move. Yet, you manage to get up halfway. Only halfway though. Before you can make it to your full height, the sudden ring of your phone startles you so hard that you fall back to the floor instantly.

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly glance at your screen back again. Hoping it would be Daebi, calling to apologize for being so hostile. But as your eyes lock with the screen, you freeze entirely. World around you disappears. Your heartbeat slows down until your ears ring.

Incoming Call.

Caller ID- Jeongguk.

…………………………..

The scream that leaves your mouth is inhuman. You hurl your phone so hard it bumps against the leg of your bed. You faintly hear the cracking sound but absolutely can’t bring yourself to care.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Thiscan’tbehappening.

You push yourself further against the wall. Wrapping your arms around your figure protectively. Wide eyes horrifyingly looking at your phone just lay down few feet away from you. Still ringing. You chant the word ‘no’ to yourself like it’s a mantra to stop this from happening.

This isn’t happening.

The phone stops ringing. The vibration which has been filling the silence of the room dies down. Everything becomes still. Quiet. Only sound in the room is your hard breathing. You wait few minutes. Patiently until something else happens. Nothing. So, you slowly start to shift. Placing your palms down on the cold floor as you crawl toward your phone. Slowly and carefully. As if your phone would attack you any minute. It doesn’t and you pick it up. The screen is cracked as you knew it would. That’s not your concern, however. You unlock the phone slowly. Your heart stops for a second time. A new sob erupting through your throat.

There’s a notification indicating you have one missed call from Jeongguk from Perfect Partner. But you uninstalled the application. Then there it is. The Perfect Partner. On your home screen. Like it always has been.

No.

Your head is spinning so hard. You mindlessly proceed to uninstall it again. The notification of warning pops up again. You press the yes again. It uninstalled. A moment passes.

And your phone rings.

Caller ID; Jeongguk.

“No. No. Holy fuck no.” You’re a complete mess. Crying hard and trembling like a leaf. You decline the call, just to find the application back on your phone. You’re acting as a crack head. Uninstalling the same app over and over again. Cursing and crying. Like you’re stuck in a loop. You have no idea how long you’ve done it. But after one moment, you receive a text instead of the call.

Jeongguk:

You can’t escape me baby. Stop trying to do that.

You’re hurting my feelings now. C’mon answer the phone

now. I promised we would talk and figure things out. No need

be so stubborn. (11. 14 p.m.)

You stare at the message. Your mind is not registering the words. This is a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. Then everything will be fine.

Incoming call.

You don’t even decline it. You feel exhausted. Another text message pops on.

Jeongguk:

C’mon princess. Don’t do this now. You know I

Love you. You know I care about you. You shouldn’t

have gone to that stupid party without my knowledge.

None of this would’ve happened then. But I promise I’ll

Forgive you if you answer your phone. (11. 16 p.m.)

You feel numb. Tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

‘Love’?

What is even happening? How is this possible? You can’t feel your hands. What’s happening to you? You need help. Yes. That’s what you should do. You should call Daebi. Or Nina. Or Jimin. Then you can ask them to take you to a police station. You fumble with your phone as you decline another call from Jeongguk. At this point you don’t try to get rid of the app anymore. It’s useless. Instead, you open the contacts hastily. Dial Daebi. Waits for the call to connect. It doesn’t. You try again. Then again and again. It doesn't connect. So, you try Nina’s number and Jimin’s after. What the hell is wrong with this stupid thing? Why can’t you reach anyone? You have to decline three more calls from Jeongguk. And just as you’re about to try Daebi’s number one more time, your phone pings with another message.

Jeongguk:

Don’t fucking do this, now, all right?

Don’t try to avoid me and call someone else

you ungrateful bitch. Answer the damn phone right

now (___). Don’t fucking make me the bad guy because

I don’t want to be that person. I love you and we will

talk this out.  (11. 16 p.m.)

You don’t think it’s possible to cry anymore. But you do. Your entire body is covered with your own tears and sweat. How he’s doing that, you have no idea. But it’s him. He doesn’t let you call anyone. But you can still run. Yes, you feel lightheaded and weak. Still, you can leave this place. That’s what you’re about to do when your phone vibrates yet again. This time it’s a normal call, however. From an unknown number. A new cry makes it way. For some unexplainable reason, you know to whom this number belongs. Call it a gut feeling. You shouldn’t pay any mind to that and leave. You don’t. You have no idea what you are doing as you answer the call. Pressing the phone to your ear.

“Thank fuck. (___), listen to me, okay? We will talk. Don’t hang up pretty. I warn─”

“Nooo.” You scream aloud as you hang up the phone. Your phone is hacked. That’s how he does that. You need to get rid of your entire damn thing. You smash the phone into the wall across the room. It shatters. That’s not enough. No. No. No. You take your hairbrush as you get to your unstable legs. Crouch down next to your phone. Use every strength left in your body as you hit the handle to your phone repeatedly. Again, and again until there’s nothing left but shards.

Then you get to your feet back. Storm away from your bedroom without even looking back. You stumble toward the front door. Your legs are still shaky and your mind hazy. Still, you make it. Make it out of your apartment. And make it to the place of your most trusted person’s place, somehow.

…………………………….

“Are you crazy?”

“Nononono…. You don’t get it Daebi. I’m telling you the truth!”

“Dude how’s that possible? An AI? I use the same app (___), I never experienced anything like this. What do you mean, you’re getting stalked or haunted by a bot?” Dabei chuckles.

“Maybe someone hacked my information. I don’t know. But it happened and I’m scared to death Daebi.” You walk toward her, shaking your head. Trying to touch her but she recoils. You wince. “D-daebi.”

“No. No girl. This makes no sense. You’re scaring me too.”

“Well, you should be scared. You need to uninstall that app before it happens to you too.” You try to touch her again. This time she takes a step back. And shouts so loud that you jump.

“NO!. No (___), you’re crazy. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not CRAZY!” You yell back too. “I’m telling you the fucking truth. Just take me to a police station.”  

“AND TELL THEM WHAT?”

Everything falls into deafening silence. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks. Oh, how you want her to believe you. “Daebi.” You break into a huge cry. And finally, she comes closer to you. In a minute, you find yourself in her embrace.

“It’s okay (___), we will figure this out, okay? We’ll see a doctor the first thing tomorrow.” She pats your back. Affectionately. You sob into her shoulder.

“But I’m not sick.” Maybe you are.

“Yeah, I know. You just need a little help, that’s it. Let’s figure this out tomorrow, all right? Let’s just go home for now.” You pull away from her at light speed. What did she say now? Home?

“No. No… I can’t go back there.”

“Hey, hey, (___), listen to me there’s no one there. It’s just you’re scared for no reason.”

“Okay, but why can’t I stay here?” You watch Daebi’s face twist into something guilty. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she takes you in. Sighs.

“There’s things that have changed while you’ve been distant (___). I- uh kind of need to be somewhere else and I can’t cancel it.” She stretches an arm to touch you. This time it’s you who recoil. Nothing she says make sense to you. “I’m sorry babe, but I promise you I’ll see you early in the morning. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll drop you off on my way out. And I’ll tell you everything too.” Gives you a soft smile. You find no comfort in it. You feel betrayed. Maybe you deserve that because you were the one who shut yourself off from her life. But still, she can’t disregard you this easily. She won’t even listen to you.

And why can’t you stay here even if she’s not home. You can stay here.

You don’t want to go back to your place.

You allow her to turn you around. You’re not convinced in the least that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There definitely is. So, you force yourself to trust her. Believe that you’ll be fine.

……………………………

You stand in the middle of your living room. Daebi has done a thorough search of your entire apartment. Found nothing like you expected. Then she had left you here. Alone. You know she found nothing. She reassured you there was nothing. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There’s goosebumps across your skin. You feel a chill running down your spine. This place doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. It’s strange. Everything is strange.

You’re terrified of this place. You can’t even make it to your kitchen let alone your bedroom. It’s like there’s some danger lurking around the dark corners of the apartment. You feel like a kid who’s being paranoid about a monster hiding under their bed. This is ridiculous. You draw in a deep breath. Wipe down the tears that are wetting your cheeks with the back of your palm. Curl your hands into fists.

There’s nothing here.

Daebi checked, remember?

You’re completely fine.

With a last nod to yourself, you steel yourself. Turning around and walking toward your bedroom.

Daebi checked there. It was completely empty.

You take little steps toward the dark room.

It all happened through your phone. You destroyed it. Now it’s all fine.

You stand in the doorway to your room. It’s completely dark. Gives you that fear of uncertainty. What if there will be someone once you switch on the lights.

No. No, this is not a movie. Daebi checked.

You step inside the room and reach for the switch panel blindly. Hold your breath as you flip the switch on. Your entire body tenses, expecting the worse. The entire room comes to your vision. Empty. No one is there. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not completely, though.

Just as you are beginning to relax, you feel it. It’s a sensation. Behind you. Like someone is there. Then you hear it. A faint sound of something cracking. No, maybe it’s sound of footsteps. Then you feel warmth behind you. Then a breath.

“Hi pretty!”

You open your mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over it. Silencing you up.

“I tried to be patient, my princess. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn lying cunt. But I love you. Oh, fuck I do.”

……………………………….

Twelve months ago (after the breakup)

“Are you serious? You’d walk this far for her? I’m almost jealous.” Daebi huffs, glancing at the papers scattered across the table. It’s a well-planned scheme. Not ordinary. Completely out of a movie.  

“Yes, I will. And now it’s your time pay off your debt, Daebi.” The guy in black hoodie waves a USB in front of her face. It has a threat. Everyone makes mistakes and Daebi had made one that would risk her entire life. From her career to her relationship.

“All right, okay? I never said I wouldn’t now, did I?”

“That’s good.”

“But- why this way, Jungkook. Approach her like a normal human being.”

The guy takes off his hoodie. His piercings glint under the dim, flickering light.

“You think she’d forgive me? No, Daebi. I ruined her life. She hates me. But I still want her, I fucking love her and yes, I’d Walk any length.” Jungkook gives a soft smile to the bitch of a woman who you’d like to call your best friend.

“And you think this would work? She won’t recognize you just because you have some piercings now?” Daebi points.

“She won’t. It’s been too long. I’ll make sure that she won’t until it’s time. We are meant to be together. She’ll understand it once I get a hold of her. I just want a creative way to approach her. Earn her trust and convince her that she belongs with me.”

Daebi always knew this guy was crazy. There’s no need to do all of these. But he loves the play. Daebi knows it. It’s not just about you hating him. She doesn’t think you even remember what happened. It’s simply this guy likes to fuck with people’s mind. Having complete control. It’s sad. Jungkook loves hunting and you are the prey. Yet Daebi can’t do anything. She can’t.

“Don’t worry Daebi. I’ll take good care of your heart broken friend. People like you don’t deserve her anyway. Do your job.” Jungkook gets to his feet.

“What if it doesn’t work? I mean what if she finds out? Felt suspicious and get rid of the app? You can’t hold it against me? Okay?” Jungkook lets out a maddening laugh. Leans down. Places his palms on the table.

“She. Won’t. I know what I’m doing. And I’m a tech genius Daebi. There’s no holes in this plan. Just give me the access and I’ll take care of the rest─” Jungkook’s voice get interrupts by a phone ringing. Daebi’s. Both of their eyes fall on the phone on the table. Screen up.

Hoseok

Daebi answers the phone.

“Hey Baby- yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jungkook smirks. You deserve far better, and he’ll make sure to give you that.

***************

[infiresyg93]

what do the lonely do at christmas | myg

plot | that time when popstar!yn found herself on bassist!yoongi's bed on a cold December morning.

w.c | 2.8K

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers

note | one out of two/three holiday-themed drabble for this series! it's late, I know. but I can't let them sit in my drafts again haha so here it is. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 66 of Love Is... On Tour

They make songs. Together.

After a show at Wells Fargo Center, Yoongi stayed locked in his hotel room to work on the music for your EP. He has read the lyrics you sent to him and listened to some melody ideas you recorded in your voice notes. In the last two days you two have been collaborating, you are full of visions and excited to tell him all of them. He finds it more surprising that you two haven't had any fights since then.

Is it New Years yet? I'm getting bored, so can we skip ahead? I just wanna forget That I'm at home with nobody to hold

So far, you already recorded two out of the six songs you planned to release in the EP. Usually, Yoongi takes his time in making and editing songs. But considering that this is a holiday EP and you have less than a week before the management's deadline, he works on it at every chance he gets. It's not that hard when you already have a clear vision of what and how you want the extended play to be.

Working is a great distraction compared to scrolling on his phone, which did no good for him. Mainly because he recently saw a post from a mutual friend of his and his ex. That's when he learned that Sara threw a baby shower in what was supposedly their house. He felt something cracked in him when he saw how far along her pregnancy was.

Tempted, Yoongi scrolled through the carousel of photos, admiring the decorations and colors of the house Sara probably picked herself, things that Yoongi had never seen personally. A single photo made Yoongi pause.

It shows Sara and her then-ex-boyfriend holding her growing bump, also showcasing a ring on her finger— not the emerald-cut diamond one he proposed to her. A new one, signaling that she is engaged for a second time this year. That photo was enough for Yoongi to turn it off and focus on his music.

Ding-dong.

Yoongi's head snapped, irritated when the unexpected doorbell noise filled his room. Frowning, he gets up from his chair to check who the person might be.

It's you.

Looking like a curious puppy, you stood before Yoongi's door with two cups of warm drinks you asked Cal to buy on the way back to the hotel. Yoongi looked at you through the small peephole, taking notice of your large, thick white cable knit sweater that falls just a few inches above your knees and the mystery cups you're holding. He opened the door when you began rolling your eyes and tapping your foot.

"What took you so long?!" you instantly asked the moment you saw him, handing him the other cup.

He snickered, ignoring your attitude. He takes the cup before pushing the door wider to let you in. Yoongi followed behind you when you walked inside. He sits back on his chair, in front of his small set-up, while you sit at the edge of his bed. Usually, you will take the couch. But the bed is nearer his working setup.

This is how you two have worked since you started. You only get up when you want to see his screen or when recording something.

"What are you doing here?" he asked since you just finished your show earlier. He figured you might prefer to rest and just work early tomorrow.

"I have an EP to work on, duh!" you replied, taking a sip from your hot chocolate as you tapped on your phone. "Anyway, lemme show you something..."

Probably a new idea. Yoongi thought. He knew it from the moment he saw you opened your phone's notes app.

"Here." You handed him your phone, letting him read something you wrote earlier today.

Maybe he met you somewhere in the desert While he was soul searching, he found someone better Guess you make him happy like I couldn't do Cindy Lou Who

Yoongi reads down the words, "It's a sad song?"

"Yep," you nodded. "Have you heard the song, What Do The Lonely Do At Christmas?"

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. He is not really fond of Christmas songs and doesn't listen to them if not needed. But he could tell by the title that it's probably a sad song too.

You pulled up your legs on his bed, making yourself comfortable, "It's a great song from the 70s. It has a lot of covers too. It's a sad Christmas song and I am so into it that I thought of writing one too."

Yoongi nods, listening, as he scans the rest of your lyrics, "Hmm..."

"What?" you quickly responded to his humming.

With how his eyes squint and his lips form a thin line, you know that he has something to say about your work. You learned after your first night of working together, making you realize that he has the same habit when you rehearse for a show.

"It's great, but I feel like we should just change some irrelevant lines? Like, maybe he met you somewhere in the desert." he read one of the lines. "What does desert get to do with Christmas?"

When he was met with a long silence, Yoongi looked up to you. But he find you just looking at him, chewing on your bottom lip. You looked away before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I found out my ex was cheating on me when paparazzi caught pictures of him and that actress kissing in Coachella." you explained.

"Oh..."

An apologetic look was instantly written all over his face, which is something you haven't expected. You thought he would keep the blank expression he always has. But his eyes and slightly gaped mouth said otherwise. You hate pity or anything like that, especially when it comes from someone who once read you too well. So, you grinned, even though it was forced so much that it almost made your cheeks hurt.

"Want to see the pictures? It's literally everywhere." you joked to change the mood. His eyes widened like he thought you were serious. So you chuckled, "I'm kidding! I won't show you that myself. You can just search it up if you want to."

"I'm not interested. No one really enjoys seeing a picture of their ex," he mumbled, returning your phone to you.

Your eyebrows crooked together when you heard that. He sounded too serious like he was the one in your shoes. You watch him sulk back to his seat, turning his back to work on one of your songs.

"You're acting like you were the one who got cheated on here. You're literally engaged to someone." you quipped.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

He whispered mindlessly. Yoongi didn't really think about it and let it slip out of his tongue. He doesn't really like bringing up his personal dramas in his workplace. He never would have realized what he said if you didn't ask him,

"What do you mean by that?"

Yoongi turned around, meeting your eyes, "So, how do you like that song to turn out?"

You're not dumb. Of course, you noticed him dodging your curiosities. He has never shared anything about himself since you two worked together. It's not like I care, you thought. But you know that there is a small itch at the back of your head, trying to get him to talk more. And maybe you know a trick to satisfy that itch.

"Let's order some wine first."

"With your hair so long, lips so bed— wait, that's wrong!"

A bottle of red wine is carelessly placed on the perfectly white duvet of Yoongi's bed. Surprisingly, it is still safe from any stain. The nearly finished cup of now-cold chocolate drink you brought is on the nightstand. You were giggling in front of the microphone and pop filter after making another mistake.

"The words are scrambled." you continued giggling before drinking from the glass of wine you were holding.

It has been almost two hours since you got in his room and Yoongi knows that the effect of your wine is getting into you. Earlier, before you could finish your first glass, you two already agreed on the instrumentals of the song you called cindy lou who. You let Yoongi make some changes in your lyrics, but it's nothing major.

"Something that feels delicate and maybe some piano." You described your idea before humming the tune you were thinking of.

By the second glass of wine, you are recording a rough draft of the song. So that you know if your ideas work well. Yoongi suggested to layer your vocals in some parts while you thought of adding a subtle harmony. Surprisingly, you two worked smoothly.

"Should we add some harp? Theo would have liked that."

You were almost done with your third glass of wine when Yoongi heard you mention your ex's name for the first time.

"Maybe we should stop drinking..." he said.

Even though he's in his fourth glass as well, Yoongi is doing better than you. You looked at him while he clicked something on his setup. You wondered if he could feel the cozy, warm feeling you've been feeling from the wine. Because that plain expression cannot really tell you anything, which makes you feel a little frustrated with how you're the only one who seemed to be a little giggly.

"Fine." you rolled your eyes, letting him take your glass from you.

He got up to get something in his room's mini fridge before going back to you, "Water?"

"It's cold," you replied before you could even touch the bottle.

"Okay, diva."

Your eyebrows raised with that, "No! I mean I cannot drink cold water when I'm singing or recording. It's not good for my throat... I'm fine, anyway. Thanks."

"I thought it would help you sober up," he explained, leaning to his chair.

"I'm sober!" you exclaimed defensively. Just a little fuzzy. But you won't admit that to him.

His lips formed into a smug smile, like he was saying, yeah sure. You puffed before fixing your headphones and crossing your arms over your chest. You looked annoyed. Yoongi knows because your nostrils are flared while there's a small pout on your lips. He bites off his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling.

"Should we record again?" he asked.

Still a little annoyed, you didn't say anything and just nodded your head. The instrumental began playing in your headphones seconds later.

‘Tis the season to be jolly But how can I be when I have nobody

The same song plays on your phone while you tap your fingertips in tune with the sleighbells playing in its instrumental. After finishing recording the song, you stay to see how it will turn out. Yoongi didn't seem to mind even though it was already past midnight.

"Do you want to hear the song I mentioned?" you asked him while he worked on the song.

Busy, he answered with a short sure. So, you played the song in a non-distracting volume, reached for the glass of wine you abandoned, and sat on his bed. You were quiet, sometimes humming to the song, but mostly staring at the view outside.

A silent night I know it's gonna be Joy to the world But it's gonna be sad for me

As the snow falls outside, you think of how this is so not how you expected your December is gonna be this year. With Noah being your original bassist, you thought you two would get to enjoy the snow in various cities you're touring in. And maybe even spend Christmas together during your break. But instead, you are now in your new bassist's, with whom you have dumb fights most of the time, hotel room, making holiday songs.

How surprising is that? You thought to yourself before taking one gulf of your wine.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Yoongi slightly groaned as he stretched his limbs from his chair. You paused the song and collected the wine bottle and your glass like you were ready to go.

"Are you kicking me out yet?" you asked.

He turned around, just to you about to get up from the bed, "What?"

"Maybe my presence distracts you." you joked, which sounds nicer than maybe you don't want me here in your room anymore because you don't like having me here.

He chuckled, a little tired, "No, it's okay. I know you're waiting for the finished version."

"Good. Because I really like your room. You have a great view of the city. The snow looks perfect here." you rambled.

Yoongi looked outside, seeing the wonderful view you were talking about. He wordlessly agrees before getting back to his screen. Watching him, you mumbled.

"If you're tired, we can just finish that tomorrow."

Just like you, the guy also performed hours ago. You two don't along at most times, but you are not that petty to make him overwork.

"No, I'm fine," he shakes his head. "I'll finish this in an hour, just wait there."

"Okay," you put down the bottle on the nightstand.

Yoongi heard the music play again while he edited the song. Eager to finish it tonight, he continued working for what seemed like a few minutes for him. He made sure to add your suggestions and put some elements he thinks would be perfect. After listening to his finished product through his headphones one more time, Yoongi put on a satisfied smile.

"And it's do—"

Yoongi's smile fell when he found you asleep on his bed with the empty wine glass in your hand. It was already 1:24 AM, and he looked at the time. Seeing how peaceful you are in your sleep, he would hate waking you up. Instead, Yoongi got up cleaned up his nightstand, and carefully took your glass. He tried not to chuckle loudly when he heard your small snores. After gently putting the duvet on you, Yoongi took one of the pillows and threw it on the couch that he would take over tonight. He knows it would be awkward to take up the big, empty space next to you.

Dimming down the lights, Yoongi tried to find a comfortable position on the couch. And when he did, he finally closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

If it weren't for the buzzing noise next to you, you would have seen where your celebrity crush ended up taking you for a date in your dreams. Groaning, you reached for your phone beside you. Seeing Cal calling, you begrudgingly answered the call.

"Hey, Cal." your voice sounded weak as you just woke up.

"Where the hell are you, YN?! I've been ringing your room. You have a virtual interview at 9."

Your eyebrows furrowed while slowly sitting up, "What do you mean? I'm in my room— Oh, no. Fuck."

The first thing you see when you sit up is Yoongi's compact studio setup, which you don't remember being in your room. You looked around and it just confirmed that you are not in your hotel room. Yoongi is nowhere to be found, you don't hear any noise from the bathroom either.

"Y/N?" Cal spoke again, worried by your sudden pause.

"I-I'm in Yoongi's room." you stuttered, trying to remember your last memory. You were relieved to find yourself still in the same clothes you went with last night.

You heard a gasp from the other line, "Oh my god, YN! Did you hooked—"

"No, no, no! Still in my clothes. Just fell asleep making songs." you babbled, cutting her suspicions off. "Where the fuck is that sock?!"

Is it a talent to lose a fucking sock while asleep? Because if it is, you just added a new title under your name. You were in a hurry, shuffling the bed for that one sock with heart patterns. Cal can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Here!" you exclaimed, immediately putting it on. You rushed to the door after. "I'm going there right— Yoongi!"

Yoongi was right before you. He shared the same shock as you except he was calmer with his eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

"I have to go for an interview. Cal's gonna rip my head off. I'll check the song later. Thank you for letting me stay!"

You were so in a hurry that you were literally spewing words and didn't realize that you leaned to give a quick kiss on his cheek. It registered as you were moving back, making you two stop for a moment, looking at each other in surprise. He gulped, feeling his throat running dry. while you feel every blood run to your cheeks now, feeling warm.

You blinked, "I-I'm gonna go."

Yoongi watched you run to the elevator before looking at the two cups of coffee he was holding.

note | i still have a christmas drabble! haha! hope u liked this one though <33

taglist rules

SERIES TAGLIST (OPEN)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[infiresyg93]

wanna try out some freaky positions? | myg

plot | that time popstar!yn is on her tour's day two in paris, and fans are wondering if she's finally doing the most requested position of all time. the one that may require her bassist (and rumored boyfriend), yoongi.

w.c | 1980

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, humor, enemies to lovers, slow burn

note | i'm still calling it twitter

main masterlist | series masterlist

DAY 301: PARIS, FRANCE

It's everywhere. Predictions about your possible Juno position for your second performance night in Paris are all over social media before you even officially land in the said country. It didn’t help that you and your band members are active on social media, alluding that something is happening behind the scenes. There were also sightings of your close friend, another celebrity, who you knew was staying in France for his vacation. Your fans, who were already elated with the upcoming performance later tonight, flooded you with mentions on Twitter, which resulted in a short and unplanned Q and A.

You were in the middle of your rehearsal break when you finally got hold of your phone after posting that late IG story hours ago. Knowing how excited your fans are at the moment, you reinstalled your Twitter app just to have some interactions with them. It has been so long since you opened your account there, since you were avoiding seeing any tweets about your breakup from last year. You smiled as you typed in your tweet, along with a photo you prepared for today, swaying your feet as you sat at the edge of the stage.

While you have all of your focus on your phone, you didn't even notice Yoongi, who's sitting on one of the empty seats in the area where the VIP audience usually sits. He cannot help but smile while he sips his Americano, looking at you. He wondered what made you so giggly and smiley on your phone. Meanwhile, his phone kept on vibrating in his pocket, which made him reach for it. That’s when he got the answer to his curiosity. Notifications from your Twitter account popped up one after the other. He chuckled before clicking on the app to read more of your tweets.

You giggled at the friendly banter you had with one of your fans. Scrolling down the tag, you smiled even harder when you found an interesting question to reply to.

Yoongi had to laugh with that one. Hearing that, you turned your head up, finally seeing him sitting alone just a few feet down the stage. Your left eyebrow raised, wondering what made him laugh on his phone.

“Where are the others?” you asked all of a sudden, just to get his attention.

Your bassist looked up and met your gaze. “They went out for snacks. I got your coffee here.”

He points out the still-warm takeout coffee cup he has on the empty seat next to him. You smiled before reading yourself to jump from the stage rather than taking the stairs. Seeing that, Yoongi immediately stood up.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’ll jump,” you replied, already inching yourself at the edge.

He clicked his tongue while shaking his head, “No, just take the stairs.”

You pouted. “This is easier. I hate the stairs.”

“You might get hurt. Art and Cal will both kill me if I let you do that,” he said while walking towards you. He then stood just a few feet lower than you.

From your point of view, he looked nonchalant, yet he opened both his arms.

You squinted, “Are you gonna catch me?”

“Nope, I just like opening my arms at random times like this,” he scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes. “And I like jumping from high places.”

He shook his head again before telling you sternly, “I don’t care. Just jump, diva.”

So you did. Even though you would have loved to continue the childish banter. And he did catch you, helping you carefully land your feet on the ground. Steadily and easily, he got you with one hand, holding you up against your back. Unconsciously, your face is almost buried in his neck, like you were magnets, they just connect instantly. Maybe it was because he still wore the familiar scent that makes butterflies stir in your stomach.

And maybe that’s why you didn’t pull away right away.

With how close you are, you can feel his heart beating almost at the same pace as yours. Fast and loud. Slowly pulling away, your eyes interlocked with each other. It was a heavy exchange of stares, anchored with something heart-fluttering that you two didn’t have to label anymore. A small smile tugged at your lips as you noticed his eyes moving down.

“Thank you,” you whispered before stepping back.

Yoongi followed behind you, trying not to put his hand over his beating chest. He sat in a seat apart next to you while you took a sip of the coffee. The much-needed caffeine helped you feel warmer and comfortable in your baby blue sweatshirt. 

“You liked it?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.

“Yep, I needed that. Thank you,” you replied, putting down the cup. You turned to him.  “Why are you here, by the way? You don’t want to explore the city in your free time? We’re only here for a few days.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just had this gut feeling that you will do something reckless and I need to stick around.”

It was your turn to scoff, “Yoongi, just say you stayed behind for me. It’s okay.”

He looked at you, brows furrowed, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

And he didn’t even deny it, you thought to yourself.

As soon as everyone got back, the rehearsal resumed. This time, it was a dress rehearsal. So you had more time and room for errors and adjustments. While Art is talking with the band about something related to your time on stage, you take a quick scroll on your phone. You instantly took notice of a certain tweet getting a lot of attention. You laughed at it as it sparked something in your brain. You swiped up your finger on the app to see more tweets from your fans, but a notification from a verified account popped up. You turned around to see Yoongi raising his brows. You typed in your phone before giving it to your very pregnant assistant, Cal.

The fishbowl method.

That method is known to be Yoongi's greatest enemy. Whenever any staff member of your tour brings out that glass bowl that was filled with rolled papers, he just knows he will hear his name from that staff member’s tongue. And today is no different day.

It was during the second rehearsal break of the day when Cal came in holding the infamous transparent bowl.

“So, everyone, this is for the Juno performance. We need two people for tonight,” she said it like it’s gonna be something fun.

Although Yoongi literally had no idea why, everyone seemed to be excited upon hearing Cal’s instructions as they cheered, including you. Fred, who is happily married and permanently removed from choices for the Juno performance participants, sat along with you and your dancers. He was cheering too. For more variety, the fishbowl included the names of your band members and dancers.

“YN, will you do the honors of picking two names in our bowl of names?” Cal called you up. 

“Okay, here we go. Drumroll, please,” you quipped, but Fred followed, running to his drums and playing them.

Knowing his fate, Yoongi was not surprised anymore when he heard his name after Noah’s. He is not even disappointed or frustrated. He just accepted and expected that the fishbowl method loves him. But what he did not expect was the reason for today’s fishbowl method. While you explained your plan for tonight’s Juno performance pose, Yoongi just shook his head with a smile as he was already used to your straightforward poses. He just didn’t expect that you could be this creative for positions.

“So, do you want to be at the back or the front?” Noah asked, which can sound strange without context.

Yoongi blinked, “What?”

He was obviously dumbfounded, making the others laugh. You tried not to laugh while you bit off your inner cheek.

“He means for the Eiffel Tower,” you explained, which didn’t really clarify anything for him.

Noah cuts in to help, “We are basically the tower itself, while YN is the centerpiece. She will bend forward, and we-” he clasped his hands together, “Are gonna high-five over her.”

“That’s your Juno position for tonight?!” Yoongi looked at him, then to you.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, the Eiffel Tower!”

When it finally registered in his head, everyone can see Yoongi’s shoulders deflating as he shakes his head with a smile. Just smiling over how stupid yet creative this whole thing is. His defeated stance made Fred and the dancers laugh. 

“I swear, we should change that fishbowl method,” he muttered, pushing his hair back.

“I think the fishbowl likes you a lot,” you teased him.

“I don’t think it was just the fishbowl,” he replied, making you pause while you three walk to the heart-shaped center stage.

Noah, who did not hear that last line since he walked faster, snapped his fingers, “Catch up, lovers. Let’s do this test run for the Eiffel Tower. I’m honestly starting to feel like the third wheel here.”

He said the name sarcastically, which resulted to you rolling your eyes and Yoongi scratching the back of his neck. You get into the position. You have your sparkly mic in your right hand, singing the last line before the pose. 

“Wanna try out some freaky position?” 

The guys stood on your front and back. Noah was on the front, while Yoongi was behind you.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” 

You bent forward as Yoongi and Noah high-fived over you, which instantly earned some whistling and cheers from your tour staff and dancers. You laughed, making you lose balance and accidentally grind against Yoongi. You only snapped out of it when he instinctively gripped your hips to steady you in place.

Noah, who saw this happen, gaped, “Oh my god, someone wash my eyes with holy water.”

Being the dramatic one, he threw up his hands and walked away in exaggerated disbelief. You and Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed to be in your own little world as you looked over your shoulder to look at him.

“Oops, sorry,” you said without really meaning it. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

You shrugged, standing back up, “Eh.”

Noah groaned from afar, leaning on one of the big speakers near their instruments, “Where is the HR for this tour?! I need to report something!”

The joke made everyone laugh. Akio, being the second most dramatic one in the band, dramatically consoled Noah. You stifled a laugh, turning around in their direction.

“Oh my god, you’re making me look like I’m a problem here.” you fed into their little bit that was going on.

Your best friend accusedly pointed out his finger, “You are the problem, and so is Tower B over there.”

Mr. Tower B, who stood next to you, remained casual as he muttered, “I don’t mind what’s going on. I kinda liked the view.”

The subtle smugness in his statement got a loud reaction from everyone. Fred laughed. The dancers howled. Akio and Noah groaned. The rehearsals are getting a little messier so Art had to step in.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s go rehearse the performance from the top again,” he signalled the dancers to stand up before turning to you and Yoongi. “And less thrusting, this time.”

You gasped even though you knew he was just teasing you, “There was no thrusting! I accidentally ground against him, that’s very much different!”

Art gave you a look that said, “Uh-huh, sure.”

Yoongi remained unbothered, “Yeah, thrusting is different. It requires intent.”

With that unexpected remark, the room erupted with laughter. All while your eyes widened, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Yoongi!” you scolded him through an embarrassed gritted grin.

He looked at you, nonchalant as he blinked innocently,  “What? I was just explaining!”

SERIES TAGLIST

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit @goodnight-n-go-home @ronyiboniyy @jimeg629 @lveegsoi @madussthoughts @jalexad @ryryvna @kiki-zb @kam9404 @rtyuy1346 @esam28

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones @butnotmontana @mar-lo-pap @ficluvr613 @senaqsstuff @stars4kooo

[infiresyg93]

( 방탄소년단 ) ℳASTERLIST

𝒍ala's 𝓴𝗲𝘆 ⦂ fluff (☀️), angst (🌥️), smut (🌩️), alternate universe (🎧), written series (⌨️), one shot (📸), drabble (🗒️), headcanons／blurbs (💬), ongoing (🎬), completed (✉️), hiatus (📦), discontinued (🗑️), request (✦)

full body works ⦂ greater than 2k words drabbles ⦂ under 2k words blurbs / thoughts ⦂ under 1k words 𓊆 want a sneak peak at what's to come? or to join my beloveds on the taglist. 𓊇

︵ ◌ Ⳋ OT7 ╱ MULTI 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

gameboy ✦ | the one where . . . you prank your boyfriend ── cursing , pranks , fluff , crack , est relationships , can be idol or non-idol au , jk gets ragebaited

김남준 NAMJOON 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

nothing yet !

김석진 JIN 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

nothing yet !

민윤기 YOONGI 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

roommate!yoongi

what you heard | the one where . . . you constantly get on your roommate's nerves, and maybe he likes it ── cursing , fluff, crack , reader is in college & yoongi isn't , slight age gap like 3-4 years (he calls reader kid once) , yoongi is in a band , suggestive , mentions of alcohol & weed

one might only | the one where . . . you and yoongi are more than just roommates ── 18+ mdni ( mentions of them fucking & oral both f and m receiving) , fwb? situation , cursing , slight fluff , crack , reader is in college & yoongi isn't , slight age gap like 3-4 years , nonchalant yoongi but he actually cares fr fr

정호석 HOSEOK 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

nothing yet !

박지민 JIMIN 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

nothing yet !

김태형 TAEHYUNG 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

nothing yet !

전정국 JEONGGUK 𓏧 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

get you back | the one where . . . jeongguk messed up months ago and now he's trying to right his wrongs (and get you back) ── cursing , crack , hurt & comfort(?) , fluff , suggestive

© ouurchids 2025. all rights reserved; do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work on other platforms!

[infiresyg93]

get you back ❤︎ downbad!ex!jk x f!reader ── cursing , crack , hurt & comfort(?) , fluff , suggestive

the one where . . . jeongguk messed up months ago and now he's trying to right his wrongs (and get you back).

DAiLY CLiCK & join my taglist

라라 보고 : first post! yippie ૮ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ა i've been lurking on this account for about a month now and i'm really excited to get the ball rolling and releasing works (albeit this first post isn't a true post lol). but i hope you guys enjoyed it! it was silly and fun and i just couldn't get the idea of jk being a desperate ex out of my head

[infiresyg93]

one night only ❤︎ roommate!yoongi x f!reader ── 18+ mdni ( mentions of them fucking & oral both f and m receiving) , fwb? situation , cursing , slight fluff , crack , reader is in college & yoongi isn't , slight age gap like 3-4 years , nonchalant yoongi but he actually cares fr fr

the one where . . . you and yoongi are more than just roommates.

DAiLY CLiCK & join my taglist

perm taglist. @bammbi-jeon127 @belleilichil @lluciboo @gizaspicebag @hoelychildofgod @blackswan446

[infiresyg93]

gameboy ❤︎ taehyung x f!reader & jeongguk x f!reader ── cursing , pranks , fluff , crack , est relationships , can be idol or non-idol au , jk gets ragebaited

the one where . . . you prank your boyfriend. (based off of this lovely ask)

DAiLY CLiCK & join my taglist

perm taglist. @bammbi-jeon127 @belleilichil @lluciboo @gizaspicebag @hoelychildofgod @blackswan446