jellyj777

[jellyj777]

update !

i’ll post soon. i’ve been up with exams and uni acceptances thar i wasn’t expecting!! anyways tp update soon ^^

[jellyj777]

diva, i’m alive cuz of u.

CRAZY IN HAWAII ⋆ JJK

the one where a waitress tries to ogle your mans on vacation and your foot accidentally slips

PAIRING crazy au [ ceo ! jk x employee gf ! reader ]

GENRE fluff & suggestive [ mdni / 2.2k ]

CONTENT out-of-timeline drabble, can be read as a standalone, hawaii vacay with yoonmin, kissing, drinking, cursing, bitchy oc, i need her, down bad jk, i need him, possessive tendencies, pda, yoongi and jimin get freaky, some semi-public pussy touching

the soft strum of ukuleles and scattered dinner chatter curled up into the warm, hawaiian sky. and next to you, your boyfriend was linen-shirted and absolutely scrumptious, scowling like a sin you’d like to commit - and have, multiple times already…

“fuckin old perv,” jungkook muttered under his breath, waiting until the elderly bald man two generations your senior caught his glare. when he did, said old man made the smart decision to stop ogling your tits before he got buried in the sand on vacation - redirecting his focus back to dinner with what was most definitely his wife and grown kids.

your fingers just kept up the soft scratchy motions in the hair at the nape of jungkook’s neck. you sipped your pineapple and rum, tilting your head toward him. his jaw flexed, hand resting on your thigh under the long, white tablecloth, thumb rubbing over the fabric that covered his tattoo.

you leaned up to kiss the pretty pout off his lips when the drums in the background suddenly picked up. your group’s table faced the beach where a line of big, beautiful dancers now moved in sync with the music, hips swaying, leis in hand as they started the resort dinner performance. you leaned back with a gasp of excitement, both you and jimin giving little claps in delight.

then, one of them - male, shirtless, tall and slippery - broke the line and walked straight toward you.

“nope.” jungkook muttered immediately.

you giggled, sipping your drink as the dancer grinned at you, spun a bright pink lei around his fingers, and with a flourish, laid it gently around your neck. he winked before his hands slid slow and showy right to your waist.

as you were about to adjust his paws, jungkook reached out and swatted the guy’s hand off your hip. the dancer blinked, you bit your lip to keep from laughing, your boyfriend’s jaw ticked.

“all good, brother?” the dancer asked with a cheeky, performative smile.

you laughed under your breath before reaching up and tugging the flower garland off your neck. “wrong girl,” you hummed, spinning and looping it around jungkook’s neck. “have this one instead.”

you winked at your boyfriend and then reached for one of the female dancers nearby, grabbing her hand with a pretty smile. she blinked at you, eyes falling to your lips for a moment, then smiled back slowly as she tugged you toward the dance circle.

you paused, turning back to the guy dancer. “grab him,” you said sweetly, pointing at your broody boyfriend, whiskey glass halfway to his lips. “he needs to loosen up.”

the dancer beamed and looked back down at your hunk of a man with an approving nod. “with pleasure.”

jungkook blinked. “not a fucking chance—”

you squinted at him.

his mouth snapped shut, but not before he let out a low string of curses, downing the rest of his drink without a wince and letting the dancer tug him by the pink lei.

jimin was already whistling from the other side of the table, yoongi chuckling under his breath while holding the recording phone as per his boyfriend’s request.

“let’s go, big guy,” the dancer teased as he led your brute into the circle with you and the rest of the cheering dancers.

you giggled at his reluctance and turned to your new dance partner, letting her twirl you under her arm and slip a red lei around your neck. the drums picked up again, the pretty harmonies of the performers and the haze of your pina coladas making everything warmer and sweeter. you and jungkook were both led into a hip-sway by the gorgeous dancers, cheered on loudly by half the resort staff and guests.

when the drums faded with a final crash of cymbals and hips, you tipsily turned to your boyfriend who gave you his pretty, crooked smile. he leaned down to press a kiss to your grinning lips just as the beach erupted into claps and whoops, the sound of chairs scraping in the sand as guests rose to join in the cheers.

you were breathless as you pressed another soft kiss to his mouth before turning back to the girl you were still laced-hands with. you gave her one final spin and she laughed, pulling you into a warm hug. you kissed her softly on the cheek with a thank you before slipping your painted toes back into your sandals.

jungkook pulled his dancer into a bro shake, clapping him on the back and laughing at something he said. you almost fucking cooed when your brood of a boyfriend gave him a smile. a real one. one of those elusive, bunny toothed smiles that were really only reserved for you and little puppy dogs.

when you both naturally gravitated back toward each other, his hand went straight to your waist. the heel of his palm pressed right over your ribs, big inky fingers splaying against the dip between your tube top and long flowery skirt.

you smiled, swaying into him as you both walked back toward yoongi and jimin who were already seated again, fresh drinks in hand and ones ordered for you and jungkook resting on the table. yoongi had his arm slung over the blonde’s chair, sunglasses still perched on his nose despite the sun having long set. jimin looked freshly wrecked from laughter, cheeks flushed and cat eyes purring.

“why was jungkook soo much better at that than i expected,” the drunk park beamed as you both moved to take your seats, his fourth chilled cocktail finally freezing off the senior honorific you’d told him to drop during the trip.

you smiled with a little nod. “jungkook’s really good with his hips.”

jimin choked on his mouthful of drink, swallowing just before it could spill back into the cup while yoongi chuckled under his breath. jungkook sat first, tongue running over his pierced lip as he bit back a laugh, then pulled you into his lap like you were carry-on he was refusing to check.

a beat of quiet passed as the breeze picked up again, making your skirt flutter over his laplike a ribbon. jungkook nuzzled into your neck. “you’re beautiful in maui.”

you hummed, turning slightly to kiss the corner of his mouth. “does that mean i’m ugly back home?”

he nipped your throat, the dazy scent of whisky and bvlgari seeping into your skin. “don’t ask stupid questions.”

you smiled, leaning back into his warm chest as you picked a piece of cheese and grape from his plate and chewed while he pressed slow kisses into your neck.

a few more minutes passed in chatters between you and the lovebirds opposite, until the resort waitress approached with her brown eyes, red lips, and long limbs. she stopped at the head of the table with a pretty smile.

“aloha ahiahi. everything to your liking?”

you nodded with a smile, brushing a loose strand behind your ear. “it was amazing, thank you.”

she smiled for a beat too long before her gaze slid an inch too far. right past you, and straight to your boyfriend. her lashes dropped, her smile turned sultry, your mood fucking shifted.

she picked up the thick tip jungkook had tucked under the edge of the wine bucket, her hand lingering beside his arm like you weren’t sitting right there on his fucking lap.

then she smiled again, a little slower, then a little lower. “wow, thank you so much… enjoy the rest of your evening,” she purred by his ear.

jungkook didn’t look at her. just took another slow sip of his scotch, eyes fixed on the ocean as he moved away from her breath. you felt his hand on your thigh give a little squeeze as he swallowed, and while it felt good, your eyes didn’t leave the waitress or the capitalised RUBY on her name tag.

the moment she turned to leave, your foot slid forward.

ruby caught the edge of your sandal and stumbled, letting out a squealy little yelp. the four fifty-dalla notes flew from her fingers and scattered like confetti, kissing the sand right next to her.

yoongi sucked in a cough to hide his laugh while jimin choked, red wine spraying from the blonde’s mouth back into his glass. “oh my shitt—”

jungkook didn’t even flinch. just watched, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly as the waitress scrambled to collect the fallen cash, her cheeks Ruby red, eyes darting around in embarrassment.

“sorry,” you offered insincerely, slipping the glass from jungkook’s fingers and turning just enough to nudge the ground with your sandal. “missed one.”

she paused. then slowly shifted her gaze to the lone fifty half-buried in the sand, wedged right under your foot.

you lifted your sandal, and like the good girl she was, she picked it up with trembling fingers and scrambled to her feet without another word.

jimin was red-faced and wheezing while his boyfriend tried to feed him water to calm him down. jungkook turned his head slowly from the retreating server to his evil girlfriend and leaned in to kiss your neck. “you’re a bitch,” he murmured fondly against your skin.

you hummed, leaning back into his mouth. “acting like you don’t love it.”

his lips dragged slowly up your neck to your ear, voice dropping low. “i love you.”

you set his glass on the table, hands sliding up and down the thick arms wrapped around your waist. “yeah?” you breathed. “how much?”

his fingers drummed lazily along your bare side before slipping lower. and lower. until the pads dipped beneath the waistband of your skirt. “lots.”

you arched subtly into his hold, but your hand shot out to catch his wrist, nails lightly denting the pretty veins that fed into his tattooed forearm. “don’t,” you murmured amusedly. “you’ll scar your poor assistant, baby.”

across the table, jimin was mid laugh at something his boyfriend said, too caught up in his own tipsy joy to notice jungkook’s fingers halfway to your pussy. if yoongi suspected anything, he didn’t mention it, just adjusted the glasses perched on his pretty nose.

your evil boyfriend hummed low against your ear. “m’sure it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.”

you didn’t quite get the chance to dwell on how unfortunately right he was, because without warning, he dug his blunt nails into the plush skin of your inner thigh, right over the inking of his name.

you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, shooting him a little glare over your shoulder. “baby,” you warned.

he didn’t stop. his fingers moved slow and unhurried as they slid into the seam of your already wet thong. you choked on a laugh - a breathhy, scandalous little noise that barely slipped out around a moan.

his fingertips slid between your soft folds, tracing devilishly and gentle like he had all the time in the world and absolutely no morals. you grabbed his hand.

“stop it,” you hissed through a breath and flushed cheeks. you yanked the thing from under your skirt and brought it to your lap, turning to smush a messy kiss to his pout before he could complain. he immediately tried to deepen it, tongue brushing your bottom lip to get inside.

“be patient,” you whispered around a nibble of his plush lower lip. “we have the whole night, my love.”

he grunted lowly, like he was absolutely suffering and hadn’t already taken you twice this morning before leaving the suite. and once more at the secluded waterfall when you went for a dip before dinner. his fingers flexed in your lap, thumb dragging down your covered thigh like he was trying to remember what it felt like... the little sookie.

but he didn’t argue. so you gave your grump one more kiss before turning back to the boys across the table, who were now so deep in their bubble it was like you weren’t even there.

yoongi was slowly wiping a streak of wine from the corner of jimin’s mouth with his thumb before quickly sucking it off. and jimin - drunk, glowing, lovesick jimin - blinked up at him like he’d hung every single star in the sky. then he surged forward and smashed his lips to the elder’s.

there was tongue, there was wetness, there was a smothered sound of surprise that yoongi swallowed whole before adjusting and tilting his head to let jimin deepen the kiss. jimin let out a soft moan, his whole upper body curling into yoongi’s hold.

you shook your head with a quiet laugh. “okay, looks like we’ll be getting out of here sooner than i thought,” you murmured, head tilting at the very public makeout sesh across from you.

jungkook hummed behind you, his head now tucked into the crook of your neck, breath warm and ticklish as you continued.

“they’re one tongue suck away from fucking right in fr—oh. oop, yep. wow. okay-”

you blinked as jimin’s tongue buried itself deeper into yoongi’s mouth, hands tangled in his hair. yoongi’s palms had found his boyfriend’s tiny waist, and the short distance between their chairs was clearly too much because jimin was now fully straddling his lap.

“jiminie,” you laughed, lobbing a grape at his back as he wrapped his arms around yoongi’s neck and started a quick grind. “oh my god, baby, stop him! they’re drunk and he’s gonna be so embarrassed- oh for fuck’s sak—jimin!”

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[jellyj777]

All Mine | J.JK

➦Pairing: JungkookxReader (smut/ angst/ fluff lots)

ONESHOT | m.list

— Public affection was never your type of liking but you didn’t know that your boyfriend loved giving you affection. Anywhere.

➦Words:: 2.8k+

➦TROPES:: Private Relationship, University!OC&JK

➦SYNOPSIS:: He wants to yell at the world and tell it that you’re with him and how much of a blessing it is to him.

➦WARNINGS: angst, fluff (LOTSSSS IF U READ PROPERLY, cute nicknames, jealousy, private/secret relationship, mature content, smut, softdom!jk, fingering, sex in car, argument.

song rec: All Mine by Kali Uchis

“Loved the show you put out there, hm?” He murmurs, jaw tight with road on the eyes. His right hand was on the gear box while the left one driving the car. The vein of his neck was at the point of popping as you just sigh.

“What are you talking about? Asking for food from a guy is putting on a show?” You answer back, feigning innocence.

He scoffs, loud and clear. “Don’t bullshit me, baby. Don’t.” He warns you as he recalls the moment in his mind.

“You guys !” You laugh looking at the guy sing while sitting in between the bunch of your friends. Jungkook sat opposite to you humming back. Luckily till now, no one knows your guys relationship.

It’s private kinda like a secret at this point and it was all your idea because of some reasons. Some reasons that Jungkook believed were stupid but he agreed just because it’s you.

You were a bit tipsy cause of the alcohol earlier that you guys had during the dinner. This was all hosted by Jungkook for the win of his basketball team while you were the one who handled everything behind the scenes. Like nothing is better than a Karaoke night with your man when he sings so good.

Gave him idea too cause you wanted him to treat his team. As a captain he should even though he would love to just fuck you as a victory price but whatever his lady says. She gets.

For some reason he didn’t like you around his teammates. As much as he adored his team for uni, they were still men who had eye for candy and lord you were a sweet. You’re not aware of what these juniors talk about in the locker room about whoever they want and Jungkook can’t stop them. Can just warn them to not anything about you.

“Y/N, you’re so pretty. Have you thought of having a boyfriend?” Jihyun questions with a flirty smile to which you just awkwardly laugh at knowing your man is watching. Your head is still a bit tipsy with all the alcohol earlier and Jungkook was slowly scooting closer to you.

In the start he sat opposite to you but now he sat a bit closer. The music and the guys playing around, singing funnily could be heard while others cheered.

You hum, “Not thinking of settling yet.” You just answer nonchalantly, at least trying to be nonchalant as lean forward to grab the food that was in a distance from you. The flesh of your cleavage showing through the dress to which you’re oblivious as Jihyun’s eyes drafts down. He bites his bottom lip before grabbing the bowl for you.

You murmur a little ‘thank you.’ Jihyun leans in a bit too close when he hands you the bowl. His fingers brush yours, and he gives you a lazy smile. “You know, any guy would be lucky to have you. I’d volunteer as tribute, honestly.”

You laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear, not noticing the sudden way Jungkook stops chewing mid-bite. “You’re drunk, Jihyun,” you say lightly. Trying to keep your tone light and funny, your cheeks flushed, but not all from the alcohol. Maybe from the embarrassment.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it untrue,” he shoots back, eyes still on you.

From across the table, Jungkook’s jaw ticks, his grip on the water glass turning his knuckles white. He keeps his cool, but he’s not hearing a single word anyone else is saying. His eyes are only on you—and on Jihyun.

“You should totally sing with me, Y/N,” Jihyun grins, already grabbing the mic from the other guy. “We’d make a killer duo. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You giggle, lifting your glass. “I think the wine’s singing louder than I ever could.” Your voice is light, teasing, almost flirty—but unintentionally so. You’re feeling a little floaty, your cheeks warm and your smile constant.

To be honest, you wouldn’t be like this if Jungkook wasn’t here. He just makes you feel so comfortable and cozy that whenever you’re drunk around him. You’re literally so drunk.

Jihyun stands and reaches a hand out to you dramatically. “Just one song. For me?”

You laugh again, swatting his hand playfully. “Nooo, Jihyun! Sit down. I’m not getting up there.”

He doesn’t budge, still holding his hand out, eyes twinkling with that persistent charm. “I won’t survive the heartbreak if you say no.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, covering your face. “Stop! You’re being so dramatic.”

Across the table, Jungkook watches everything. Watches how your giggles spill out too easily. Watches how Jihyun looks at you like he’s ready to risk it all. Watches how you lean a little too close when you’re laughing, too soft, too sweet.

His hand tightens around his glass again. He knows you’re not actually into Jihyun—but that doesn’t stop the jealousy from simmering just beneath his skin, hot and restless. The fact that you don’t even notice is what drives him mad.

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name low, calmly, but there’s a weight to it—one only you recognize.

You freeze, blink and look over at him. His jaw is tight, his stare unrelenting. You offer him a slightly tipsy smile as Jihyun stares at Jungkook with his tongue poking through his cheek. “What?”

“Come here.” It’s not a suggestion.

Your brows raise at the tone, but you get up anyway, mumbling something about needing fresh air.

Jungkook already gave his card to one of the teammates. To the one he trusted and told him that he’ll leave early but they should continue to enjoy. He gave you a little eye to grab your stuff meaning you won’t be coming back as you do.

Grabbing your jacket while he grabs your purse and other stuff ignoring Jihyun’s comment of ‘Just Joking Round.’ You follow Jungkook out, heels clicking against the pavement as the cool night air sobers you up a little.

He doesn’t say a word as he walks ahead, unlocking the car. You slide into the passenger seat, suddenly aware of how quiet he is. The door slams on his side. Engine starts.

The tension’s thick. Heavy.

He throws your purse in the backseat and you wear your seatbelt and this is where you’re right now. Him driving as you drink water to sober up.

You glance over, watching the way his jaw flexes. The muscle ticks. “I wasn’t doing anything,” you mumble, softer, because a part of you knows. You just didn’t mean it like that.

“Oh yeah?” he cuts back, not even glancing your way. “Not doing anything while he looks down your dress and you’re giggling like it’s the funniest shit you’ve ever heard?”

Your lips part, stunned for a second. “I didn’t even realize—”

“Exactly,” he snaps. “You didn’t. That’s the damn problem. You’re out there acting single, letting him flirt, letting him touch you—”

“He barely touched me!” you cut in defensively.

“Should he have touched more then? Would that get your attention?” he growls, finally turning to look at you at a red light, eyes dark with something sharp and dangerous.

Your breath catches.

You weren’t trying to provoke him. But now he’s looking at you like he’s one second away from pulling the car over and making sure you never forget who you belong to.

And a traitorous part of you likes it.

The light turns green but Jungkook doesn’t move.

He’s staring at you—dead on, jaw clenched, nostrils flared like he’s fighting something inside him. Then, with a sharp inhale, he presses down on the gas, hard. The car jerks forward. You flinch.

“You think this is funny?” he mutters, voice low and dangerous. “Letting him look at you like that? Letting him talk to you like that?”

You cross your arms, shifting in your seat. “I wasn’t letting him do anything. I didn’t even flirt back.”

He lets out a dark laugh. “You didn’t have to. You giggled. You batted your lashes. You leaned forward like you had no damn clue what you were showing off. You looked so sweet and drunk and clueless and he was eating it up.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, torn between guilt and irritation. “Why are you mad at me when he’s the one who was pushing it?”

“Because you’re mine,” he says again, slamming the car into park the second he pulls into his lot. The sudden silence hums around the two of you. “And you don’t even act like it when we’re around other people.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, heart racing. “You agreed to keep it secret.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, voice dropping. “But that doesn’t mean I’m okay watching some loser try to undress you with his eyes while you laugh like he’s cute.”

There’s a beat of silence before his eyes wild and locked on yours. Eyes catching from the road in front and to you. “I should’ve dragged you out of there the second he opened his mouth or fucking did something to that bastard.”

“Jungkook—” you start.

He cuts you off. “I told you not to come along to this stupid dinner cause these guys are not good, baby. I know what they are, okay?”

You swallow hard, your voice barely a whisper when his hand was on your thigh. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” he murmurs, taking a turn to god knows where as he parks the car in the unknown parking lot. “You didn’t see the way he looked at you, baby. But I did. And you let him.” He murmurs, his hands trailing up to your face, caressing your jaw.

Everything he’s been saying is that he wants to show that he’s mad at you but truly he could never be mad at you for some reason. Even right now, he’s pissed at the guy. Not you. You’re just trying to defend is what’s annoying him.

“I didn’t mean to,” you breathe out, even as your body leans into his touch, craving the closeness. Maybe you’re still drunk on alcohol or on him. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You never are,” he says softly, leaning in low in your ear. “You just smile and laugh and bat those pretty eyes—and now he’s gonna spend all night dreaming about what I get to have every fucking day.”

You gasp as his hand slips higher on your thigh, squeezing hard enough to make your legs twitch.

“But he’s not gonna get it, is he?” Jungkook whispers, lips ghosting along your skin. “You’re mine? hm?"

You nod, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Yours,” you whisper.

“What?” He acts like he didn’t hear you, wanting you to repeat.

“Yours,” you repeat, a little loudly this time.

“C’mon, honey, you can do better hm?” He says. Taunts in a cooing way.

“Jungkook. I’m yours. Not him— Just you.” You repeat.

That’s all he needs.

The next second, his mouth is on yours—hungry, rough, like he’s trying to erase every trace of anyone else. His hand slides up your thigh and under your dress, fingers grazing the heat between your legs.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters against your mouth, voice laced with both pride and frustration. “From me yelling at you, huh? You like when I get like this?”

Your breath stutters as your hips shift toward his hand instinctively. “Who knows.”

He kisses your neck. “Get in the back.”

“What—”

“Now, please?” The command is so soft, he’s trying his hardest to be mad at you but he couldn’t. Not when you look at him like that. Your feet follows his words, trusting him as you climb to the from between the passenger and drivers’ seat. Throwing the purse in the front and the jacket to the side.

You barely have time to settle in the back seat before he follows—his movements fast, precise, like he’s been holding it in all night.

He doesn’t say anything at first.

His hands are on you instantly, pushing your dress up with firm fingers, tugging at your panties. Not rough—just impatient. Like he’s been dying to get to you. Dying to get you out of this damn gorgeous dress.

You breathe out, “Jungkook—”

“I saw the way he looked at you,” he says quietly, voice low but steady, like he’s trying not to let it crack. His hands focused on unclipping your bralette. “He wasn’t subtle.”

You freeze for a second.

“I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t trying to make you—”

“I know.” He cuts you off gently, meeting your eyes. “That’s the thing. You weren’t even trying… and he still couldn’t stop staring.”

There’s a small pause. The weight of his gaze makes your skin heat.

He leans in closer, presses a soft kiss to your jaw, then down to your neck, his hand sliding up your thigh with slow purpose. “You looked so pretty. And I just had to sit there and act like I wasn’t losing my mind.”

His words are soft, but there’s a quiet edge in them—like he’s holding back the full force of what he felt. His hand rubbed little circles over your panties.

You open your mouth to respond, but his fingers find you, and all that escapes is a soft gasp.

“I know it’s stupid,” he murmurs, lips brushing your collarbone, “but I wanted to take your hand. Just… let everyone know.”

Your heart twists at the honesty in his voice.

“But I didn’t,” he adds, pulling your panties down slowly. “Because I promised I wouldn’t.”

You feel the fabric slide off, cool air hitting your skin. His touch replaces it instantly—warm, grounding. His fingers glide over you, deliberate and slow, his eyes watching your every reaction.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

You tug at his shirt, pulling him closer, and he kisses you—deep and slow this time. His hands grip your hips as he presses you down onto the seat, settling between your thighs.

His hands continued to lose up your pussy, two fingers pumping slowly and you squirm and whine underneath his touch. Your manicured hand cupped his face, unknowingly pulling his face closer to kiss you.

He pulls his face before pecking your lips again, the other leaving your nipples and going up to brush your hair away from your face. The glowy cheeks of yours from the blush you out earlier with the pretty makeup.

He hums softly, just admiring as you softly moan his name. “Can I make love to you, baby? You sober up for that?” He questions, slowing his fingers as you just nod closing your eyes. “Words, love. Give me words, please.”

You sigh softly, hands falling to your side, “Yes please, koo. Want you so bad.” You reply, grinding softly on his fingers. His hand leaves your pussy as you whine a bit, he coos you as he needed to pull his pants down.

Licking your slick he unbuttons his pants taking his hard dick out with a soft sigh. He gives it a few pumps before aligning it on the entrance of your pussy.

“Let me have you like this,” he whispers against your lips. “Just for now. Just us.”

He pushes in—slow, deliberate—watching the way your breath catches, how your lashes flutter. There’s no rush in his movements now. Just heat. Want. A quiet ache for closeness.

His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together above your head. His thrusts are deep, controlled, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel.

He doesn’t say you’re his.

He doesn’t have to.

Every roll of his hips, every breath against your skin, every whispered “fuck, you feel so good”—it all tells you exactly what he’s feeling. Not possessiveness. “Such a pretty baby, my pretty baby.” He grunts, closing his eyes with his head falling in the crook of your neck. Trying to keep you as close to him as much as he wants.

You moan his name out, hands going from scratching his back to playing with his hair. His hand goes down to rub your clit. To provide you with pleasure. To provide you with everything you want or would ask for.

The sex spoke louder than anything since you entered the car earlier. Since he was a bit hot headed earlier. Just that he wants to be known.

To not have to pretend.

To be the one who gets to look at you like that—openly and you realize how stupid it was to make boundaries in public.

You just never thought too deep into wanting people to know you have a boyfriend especially it’s a guy who you used to be your bestfriend and you both would gag at the thought of dating.

You were just afraid.

Afraid that people would judge and you never told Jungkook about it knowing he would mislead to thinking that you’re embarrassed because of him.

You kiss him again, softer this time, and whisper against his lips, “You don’t have to act like you don’t love me, you know.”

And the look in his eyes when you say it?

Yeah. That says the rest.

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yooooo, sorry for the late post. there's a lot going on at my house rn but here it is. lemme know if y'all liked it. it's my first time writing something soft yet angsty

[jellyj777]

TIE?!?! omg ! yall okay so let’s hope for atleast 30-35 notes on the recent chapter of TP and i’ll post the update of it, if not. I’ll post a small oneshot.

hi jellies ! please choose what should i post for next friday and i’ll start working on it. make sure to follow me on instagram for updates and teasers.

Comment the genre of oneshot y’all want. Fluff, Smut, Angst? Requests are open !

[jellyj777]

finally someone said it. fanfiction has been here since like decades😭

Stop sexualizing idols

fanfic is my form of creative freedom and jungkook just happens to be my muse .. i’m not claiming to know him, and i definitely dont think my writing reflects his real life choices/persona at all 😭😭 (gulps and tucks easy behind my back) my jks are just characters based on a public figure . . . it’s fiction?? 😭😭😭 and i fear u didn’t stumble upon my blog on accident let’s see that search history baby

[jellyj777]

hi jellies ! please choose what should i post for next friday and i’ll start working on it. make sure to follow me on instagram for updates and teasers.

Comment the genre of oneshot y’all want. Fluff, Smut, Angst? Requests are open !

[jellyj777]

07; I Wish You Roses | The Patient

THE PATIENT | Book | Ch07;IWishYouRoses

JungkookxReader (smut/fluff/angst)

— Falling in love with a patient in an asylum might not be everyone's tea but you had a thing to fix something you never broke at first place.

Words: 2.3k+

TROPES:: One sided hate, Therapist Au.

SYNOPSIS:: —"Don't trust me, Believe in me"

WARNINGS:: Talk about abuse, Violence ahead, explicit language, Anger issues

<-prev | index | next->

Chugging down another drink, you bury your head into the pile of research books in front of you. You still can't believe that in just one more month, no one will be paying for Jungkook's fees to stay at the mental hospital. And honestly, it's just as hard to believe that you're drinking in the middle of the day. You don't usually drink—especially not during the day when your shift is in the evening.

Another sigh escapes your lips as you press them against the book lying open in front of you. Everything feels like it's falling apart.

Your rent is due. Jungkook will be leaving soon. You're getting a new patient.

Everything is fucked.

And that's when a choked sob escapes you—your lungs tightening like someone just dropped a weight on your chest. You try to control the sobs, but they just keep coming. Burying your head deeper into the book, you cry until it finally feels like you've let enough out to get up. And that doesn't happen until your phone rings—your mom is calling.

You lift your head slowly, teary eyes glancing at the caller ID: "Mom 🤍" Why is she calling now, of all times?

You exhale shakily and answer the call. "Mom, I'm leaving for work. What is it?" you say, half-annoyed—hoping the irritation in your tone covers the shakiness of your voice and the wetness in your breath.

"Oh really? I thought you had a night shift?" she asks. You can hear the clinking of utensils—she must be doing dishes. The water running in the basin gives it away. You're lucky she's distracted, barely picking up on the pain in your voice.

You hum in response. "Yeah, but I gotta get ready. I told you not to call me before my shifts."

She chuckles. "Be grateful to your mom, you brat," she teases. You let out a small scoff, smiling faintly through the tears.

"Stop sending money home," she scolds gently. The clinking stops—she must've brought the phone closer to her ear. Her voice is clearer now.

You sniffle quietly and change the topic. "Just enjoy it... Did you get the flowers Dad sent for your anniversary? Why are you complaning about money?"

That's when she catches on. 

"You're crying," she says softly.

"No, I'm not. Why would you say that?" you lie, your voice still thick.

She sighs. She's always hated how you tried to carry everything alone when she just wants to be there for you and your sister. "We're here for you, okay? You can call me or anyone—anytime. I don't like being shut out of your life, baby."

That's all it takes for you to break.

You cry. Really cry.

Not the silent kind—the raw, ugly kind where your chest aches and your throat tightens so much it hurts to breathe. You don't even respond. You just sob, your mom whispering soothing words on the other end of the line with little tsks and whispers of soft scolding here and there.

She knows. She doesn't ask why. She knows that something—or everything—is hurting you badly. She knows you won't say it, because you've always tried to protect everyone else from your pain. You chose this life, this profession, and it's not easy. She gets that.

You're like her in the worst possible ways—and she knows her shadow still lingers over you, even if she never says it.

She takes a deep breath, trying to hold back her own tears. Her baby is crying. It hurts her and breaks her down so much, "Y/N, hey... it's okay, hm? Do you want me to come visit for the weekend?" she asks gently.

"No, it's alright," you reply quietly not wanting to burden her. "I'll be out most of the time anyway, because of work."

She frowns through the phone. The little tone shift could be heard clearly to you, you knew her too well. "So what? I'll make your favorite dish, okay? I'll come. Or do you want your dad to come instead?" 

You stay quiet, knowing her mind's already made up.

You want to say no. You want to tell her not to worry.

But you want to see her too.

"I'll keep the spare key under the mat," you say eventually. "I might be out when you get here, so take your time."

The two of you stay on the call a little longer. She teases you, trying to lift your mood. You don't say much, but you're grateful. Grateful for everything she does, even when you're being distant or difficult. She knows you won't open up completely, but she still shows up. She still offers her shoulder.

That call—her voice—is what lifts your mood as you get ready for work while talking to her on call.

--------

Clicks and clicks of your fingers tapping away at the keyboard fill the silence of your dim office. Hoseok is in his own clinic down the hall while you’re seated at yours—frantically jumping through every website you can find that mentions financial aid for patients. The NHI covers a decent portion of Jungkook’s stay, but not all of it. Never all of it.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you close out yet another useless tab. Why is this so difficult? Should you beg his mother again? Schedule another meeting with her in hopes she’ll budge this time? Maybe it’ll work… or maybe she’ll just ignore you again like she always does.

At least you’re not alone for tonight’s shift. Small mercies.

With that comforting thought, you grab the lunch box from your desk and head toward the therapy room. Most of the patients are already tucked in for the night. It’s past 9 p.m., and your session with Jungkook is the last one on the schedule. You had back-to-back patients earlier, so your night has been nonstop. Technically, Jungkook’s bedtime is 10 p.m., but you both know he never sleeps at that time. He always ends up sitting by the window in his room—staring out like he's waiting for something. And if he does manage to fall asleep, he always oversleeps the next morning.

You enter the therapy room and give the nurses a brief nod of approval. They scatter like clockwork, and you take your usual seat across from him.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you. He’s slouched into the chair like he owns it, one foot bouncing, fingers twitching like he’s itching to leave. His eyes are half-lidded and unreadable—he’s physically here but mentally checked out. It’s been like this for three months now. Every therapy session begins the same way: with a tired sigh and you sliding a lunch box across the table to him.

He knows the drill. He takes the box wordlessly and picks up the fork you just cleaned with a napkin. Inside, there’s a neatly arranged display: slices of Asian pear and peeled tangerines with a few scattered rose petals on the side.

He’ll never understand your obsession with decorating these lunch boxes for him. He doesn’t know that you often forget to pack your own lunch but never his.

He stabs a piece of pear with his fork and takes a bite just as you start peeling a roasted one of your own for him to eat.

“The weather’s getting cold,” you murmur, eyes downcast. “I was wondering if you’d want to go to the beach?”

He freezes mid-chew, a beach? The word hits him like a wave, unexpected and disorienting. He hasn’t been to a beach in years. A hard lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it with the fruit.

“What?” he asks, voice unsteady.

“What?” you echo, feigning innocence. “I promised you a place, didn’t I? I can take care of the forms and official statements. You don’t have to worry about that.”

You keep your eyes on the tangerine in your hand—fingers working at the peel, refusing to look up at the wide, vulnerable gaze you know is locked on you. He hates when people talk about his eyes. Hates the way they soften under attention.

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” you offer.

He shakes his head too fast, a soft blush blooming across his cheeks. “No, no. I’m fine with the beach.” He clears his throat, pulling back into himself and putting his usual cocky mask back on. Cool. Controlled. Untouchable.

You nod at him, finally meeting his gaze.

His eyes shift again—doe-like and curious, before hardening into half-lidded indifference.

You try to get him to talk after that. About anything. His thoughts, his memories, the smallest spark of who he is. But for the next fifteen minutes, all you get are clipped answers. Yeah. Hm. No.

So you take a breath and go for it. The one subject he never touches.

“So,” you start gently, fingers threading together on your lap. “We’ve talked a lot about your mom. But I’ve noticed… you always skip over your dad. Why’s that?”

He flinches.

Just slightly. But enough for you to notice.

He doesn’t answer.

“Is it because it’s harder?” you ask quietly. “Or because he wasn’t there at all?”

Jungkook shifts in his seat. His fingers pull at the elastic band on his wrist—snapping it again and again, each time a little harder. The muscle in his jaw is working overtime now.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you add, cautious. “I just think… it’s worth exploring. When you’re ready. You always mention how he—”

“Shut up,” he mutters.

You blink. “Jungkook—”

“I said shut the fuck up!” he roars, suddenly exploding out of his chair. The metal legs screech back against the floor, the force pushing the empty lunch box flying off the table, clattering near your feet.

You don’t flinch.

But your spine straightens like a steel rod.

His chest heaves with every breath. His fists are clenched, trembling at his sides. His eyes aren’t numb anymore—they’re on fire. Burning. Angry. Wounded.

“You think you know everything,” he snarls. “Just ‘cause you sit there in your pretty little chair and take notes? You don’t know me.”

“I’m not claiming to,” you say, steady despite your racing pulse. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Help?” he spits, bitter. “Is this helping? Digging up shit I’ve buried for a reason? Is that fun for you?”

“No,” you reply, voice softer now. “But I think you need it.”

That’s when he punches the wall.

Not you—thank god, not you—but the wall next to him. His fist slams into the drywall with a sickening thud, and you flinch before you can stop yourself.

The silence afterward is thick.

He stands frozen, staring at the dent he’s left in the pale lavender wall. His knuckles aren't bleeding, but they’ll bruise by morning.

You rise slowly from your chair, keeping your distance. “I’m going to call the nurse to check your hand.”

“No,” he rasps. “Don’t—just… don’t.”

“Okay,” you nod gently. “Okay, we won’t. But I need you to sit down, Jungkook. You’re not in trouble. You’re safe.”

He stares at you, then back at the wall, and finally slumps into the chair again—like all the rage just drained right out of him. The elastic band on his wrist has snapped. He stares at the broken pieces like they’re sacred. Like they were the last thing holding him together.

You sit across from him again—slower this time, quieter.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you say softly, watching the shame settle in his eyes. “That matters.”

He doesn’t speak. His expression is blank now, clean-wiped. But you see it. You see what’s left behind. The aftermath always lingers.

You know he's reassuring himself that he didn’t touch you. Because if he could snap his elastic, he could snap on you. And that thought terrifies him more than anything.

You clock every emotion flickering on his face, making mental notes. He’s a human after all.

“I get it,” you whisper, barely audible. “It’s not just anger. It’s pain too.”

His jaw twitches. And then, after a long, loaded silence, he finally speaks. “He used to hit her. And I never did anything.”

His voice is so low, so broken, you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And it hits like a blade to the chest.

You don’t reply. You don’t press.

You let the silence hold him—gentle, steady. For the first time, he’s not fighting you. And somehow, that’s worth more than a dent in a wall.

It’s a breakthrough.

And beneath the ache in your chest, you can feel it. Hope.

He sighs, eyes still fixed on the snapped band. “I broke the elastic.”

You glance at it, then back at him. “I’ll buy you another. Ten, even more if you want. Don’t worry about it.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the quiet firmness in your smile stops him. God, you were always like this—kind, steady, too good to him. And he hates it. Hates how, for the first time in a long time, he wants to be better for someone. Maybe even for you.

By the end of the session, you realize it’s been your best one with him yet. In the three—maybe four—months you’ve spent trying to reach him, this was the first time something really cracked open.

He didn’t let you bandage his hand, despite your insistence. A nurse took care of it instead while you stepped out to sign for a delivery made in your name.

When you return to leave him in his room, you quietly hand him a new purple hair elastic—your own, soft and worn but still strong. He just shrugs, feigning indifference, but his fingers curl around it before you turn to leave.

You make your way to reception, where a delicate bouquet of flowers sits waiting—your name scrawled neatly on the tag. The roses are a soft winter blush, sent by none other than your father.

The note is simple, but you read it twice anyway.

"I wish you all the roses for the winter. The roses will bloom brighter than they do during spring. I wish you roses."

A smile tugs at your lips, warm and uncontainable. You thank the receptionist, holding the bouquet gently in your hands like it might shatter.

Back in your office, you call your father just to thank him. As always, he brushes it off with a quiet laugh and tells you to keep working hard. “Your mom’s already home, don’t worry about dinner,” he adds casually before hanging up.

Even though the day started rough, you feel deeply, quietly grateful for the people around you. With a soft stretch and a sigh, you sit back at your desk, returning to your work—but this time, with a smile.

Winter is here. And you’re ready to welcome it.

With love. And with roses.

wattpad:CH07 (read on wattpad)

A/N:

taglist; @seokout @khadeeeeej @bybyash @kookietkk ‘to be added in the taglist : comment’

godd, i love this chapter so much and i actually sobbed so much while typing it down but guess who actually posted on time. On a friday! Me! Anyways love yall. It's still cold where i live, so we ain't got no spring but lots of love to you guys!!

jelly <3

[jellyj777]

This chap was unexpected. Thank you so much. Honestly I was kinda missing TP a lot and I think the story deserves to reach more people. Sending 💕.

Haha, tysm love ! I think the love I’m receiving right now is more than enough. I wouldn’t mind more but this much is also a lot. I personally don’t like posts or rarely comment until the book is really good. So the book must be good for you guys to send love like this ^^

I appreciate it sm <33

[jellyj777]

WTF that anonymous ask looks like they can’t even spell at a fifth grade level, I’m surprised they can even read your story. Looks to me like they aren’t even old enough to read your story let alone old enough to be allowed on this site. Too bad we can’t report them. Children should not be allowed on here.

Loll, I really wanted to say this when I read the message. The books that I write are heavily based on real-life and there are some topics and words that are difficult to understand (even for me) but I do my research beforehand. I’ve said it earlier and will say it again, please DON’T read my books if you’re expecting some romantic fantasy. Yes, I will have some romance and stuff but it will be all surrounded by real life situations. I personally prefer real life books instead of fantasy ones so bare with it lol.

Kids at learning age prefer (pre teens, teens)and try to find “mature” books, I did that too lol but I would try to educate myself instead of leaving hate comments. I 100% agree with this comment and thank you to whoever sent it ^^

[jellyj777]

I’m so confused. Please help me choose one book to update on Friday. The chapter will be longer hopefully.

[jellyj777]

Oho please if ur lazzy and cant make it bcs of busy life , its okay but pls atlast make it less chapters and post it ,dont give up on story . If u though u cant post for those 1 or 2 months let us kniw, thank u btw

I see nothing but disrespect in this comment. This is one of the reasons why I don't answer inbox. I have two or three more like these and some other with love but, writing a chapter takes a lot more thinking than what it seems like to people. The chapters that you guys recieve are not even the ones that I write as the inital chapter, everything changes as I continue to read and re write more into the chapter.

Even when I'm free, I don't have the motivation to actually write it down or even think about how I want the story to ongo.

Anyways, I'll try to post more often and make the chapters longer. Thank You.

[jellyj777]

06; Inflation. | The Patient

THE PATIENT | Book | Ch06;Inflation.

JungkookxReader (smut/fluff/angst)

— Falling in love with a patient in an asylum might not be everyone's tea but you had a thing to fix something you never broke at first place.

Words: 1.4k+

TROPES:: One sided hate, Therapist Au.

SYNOPSIS:: —"Don't trust me, Believe in me"

WARNINGS:: Talk about abuse, Violence ahead, explicit language, Anger issues

<-prev | index | next->

You can't believe this bullshit. The rent increased again. In the past six months, this is the second time the rent has gone up. You stand still in front of your apartment door, the envelope in your hands containing the updated lease documents.

You sigh and drag your feet inside after typing in the pin to unlock the door. Winter is always difficult to get through. Every passing moment feels so dejecting. Don't get it wrong—winter is your favorite season. You adore it, but the power outages in your area during winter are insane. When the power goes out, it gets exceptionally cold. Even though you pay a high price for your small apartment, the cold always lingers in the air.

It’s there in the summer too, even in the fall. Maybe it’s not the season’s fault.

After freshening up and changing into your pajamas, you snuggle up in your blanket and grab your laptop to work on some research for one of your patients. You start mindlessly scrolling through your laptop, humming softly along with the Japanese pop playing in the background.

A small frown creases between your eyebrows as you open the email. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the information, and you gulp before CC’ing Hoseok. It’s nearly 9 p.m., and you don’t want to disturb him, but the email is too much to process.

This can’t be. Why would any mother want this for their child? The question lingers in your mind as you irritably close the laptop.

The entire fall passed by with you trying to get Jungkook to open up. He’s only been getting on your nerves. You don’t understand what you’re doing wrong.

He doesn’t talk about his mother. He doesn’t talk about his father, but he always gives you small hints. Whenever you try to dig deeper into his past trauma, he brushes it off. His mother is the one paying for everything, but this email you received earlier makes you shiver. She’ll no longer pay for his expenses. His father’s not in the picture. So, who will pay for him? No one? This can’t be happening.

The thought of him being abandoned with nothing is even scarier than anything. He has so much potential and this is just ruining everything.

These are the parts of life that scare you the most, so you reply to the email. Your response is simple and efficient. You arrange a formal meeting with his mother to discuss the matter, and that’s where you are now—sitting across from her, this woman who looks suspiciously young. Good genetics, perhaps?

You sigh softly and fiddle with the paperweight on the table. None of you speak. The awkward tension fills the air. You finally break the silence.

“Mrs. Jeon, I received an email yesterday. Was it a mistake? By chance?” You ask, hoping it was some kind of error.

She shakes her head with a small, embarrassed smile. “It’s not. I want to take Jungkook back home or somewhere out of this place.”

You nod slowly. “I understand, but this is not a game, you know? You can’t just play with him like this. He has serious anger issues, and the higher-ups won’t allow such a big step.”

“But he’s my child. I’m the one who has authority over him,” she defends, her voice sharp.

You let out an awkward chuckle. “He’s your child, and you have authority over him when he was under the age of eighteen.”

“A child is a mother’s child no matter what,” she argues, clutching her expensive purse. Her face glows with makeup, and you wonder if she got some procedure done before coming here.

“I 100% agree with you, ma’am, but…” you pause, taking a breath, “he needs this. We’re doing everything we can to help him become a better version of himself.”

“And what are you doing then? Why isn’t he a better person already?” she snaps, her voice tinged with frustration.

You lean forward, trying to remain calm, and log into your computer to pull up the email again. You don’t see any mention of the emotional drama she’s trying to present to you. Based on the reports from the asylum, she’s not the good mother she’s pretending to be.

“The email didn’t just mention this,” you say, scanning the details. “It mentioned that you no longer intend to pay for Jungkook’s fees. That’s… well, quite a shift from what you’re saying.”

Mrs. Jeon’s eyes flicker briefly, but she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she gives you a tight smile, almost as if she’s amused by your reaction. Then she speaks with a slight patronizing tone.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, but it’s not a shift,” she says. “Jungkook is no longer a child. He should be able to fend for himself. And if he can’t, then it’s time to stop enabling him.”

You blink, taken aback. This isn’t just a financial decision—it’s a clear statement of intent. A deliberate act of withdrawal. A mother abandoning her son to his fate. How can a mother think like this?

“Mrs. Jeon,” you begin, your frustration rising, “this isn’t about enabling him. He’s not in a position to fend for himself. You know the situation with his anger, his behavior, his trauma. He needs care—the kind of care only a place like this can offer. You can’t just pull away now.”

Her smile falters for a second, but she quickly recovers, like mother, like son.

“He needs to grow up,” she snaps. “I’ve been paying for his care for years, and look where that’s gotten us. He’s still violent, still struggling. Maybe this is his last chance to realize that life doesn’t revolve around him. Maybe it’s time to stop sheltering him.”

You can feel your frustration rising, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “You’re talking about giving up, Mrs. Jeon. You’re talking about abandoning him at the very moment he needs you the most. And I can’t let that happen. He doesn’t have anyone else. His father isn’t in the picture, he never talks about him. If you pull away, he’ll have nothing. No one.”

She leans back in her chair, her gaze now icy, almost indifferent. “And what do you want me to do, huh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Keep paying for a place that’s doing nothing for him? I don’t see any results. I’ve given enough, and I’m done. If he’s meant to get better, it won’t be from this… this mental hospital. The asylum was so much better—at least he would actually talk to me.” She gestures dismissively around her.

You exhale sharply, the words on the tip of your tongue. Talk to you with fear? That’s how it was in the asylum. Not real communication.

“It’s not just about the results you can see,” you say, your voice calmer but firm. “It’s about progress. Jungkook is making progress, but it’s slow. And that’s how healing works. The asylum was wrong for him. He was being forced to conform to something he wasn’t. This is a long process. If you give up now, you’re not just cutting off the money—you’re cutting off his future.”

She stays silent. You continue, “You’re quite well-off, aren’t you? I don’t see a problem with continuing to pay for your only child’s expenses.”

“I would be happy if he’d rather die than stay like this,” she yells, and you just stare at her with nothing but venom boiling within you.

Her eyes narrow, and her voice hardens. “You’re too emotionally involved, aren’t you? This isn’t just about Jungkook anymore, is it? This is about you, your ‘work’—your pride.”

You freeze. The accusation stings more than it should, and for a moment, you wonder if there’s any truth to her words. Are you too emotionally attached? It’s hard not to be. But you can’t let that cloud your duty.

“No,” you say quietly, voice steady despite the sharp pang in your chest. “This is about what’s best for Jungkook. It’s about giving him the chance to recover, to live a life that’s better than the one his parents gave him. If you walk away now, you’ll be denying him that chance.”

Mrs. Jeon scoffs and stands up abruptly, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “I’ve made my decision. I’m not paying any more. You can handle it, right?” She straightens her designer blouse and walks toward the door without another glance back.

You remain seated, staring at her retreating figure, the weight of her words sinking in. She’s serious. She’s not going to pay anymore.

You pull the email up again. The cold words glare back at you. “This is the final payment. After this, no further support will be given. I’m done.”

You swallow hard, the knot in your stomach tightening. What now? What happens to Jungkook?

wattpad:CH06 (read on wattpad)

A/N:

taglist; @seokout @khadeeeeej @bybyash @kookietkk ‘to be added in the taglist : comment’

douple update cause i feel bad. posting another on friday.

jelly <3

[jellyj777]

I’m so confused. Please help me choose one book to update on Friday. The chapter will be longer hopefully.

[jellyj777]

MÁGOA | #02

MÁGOA / Book / CH02,TermsAndConditions

-> pairing: JungkookxReader (angst/smut)

-> tropes:: Age gap (older female),Slow burn, DomxSub, Brother's bestfriend, FWB, Uniboy!Jk, CEO!Reader

-> synopsis:: — "Yeah?" "Yeah." There goes another both of yours conversation.

-> warnings:: —Explicit language, Dirty talk, Sexual content ahead which would most likely include BDSM, Rough sex and much more. —Both the characters will have their backstories and traumas over why they're acting the way they act at the current moment. (No hate towards any character please)

-> Words: 2.6k+

prev < index > next

It's been a while since you visited your family—any member of your family, to be honest. You haven't seen your brother in over six months. You used to share texts and TikToks all the time.

Hwan's been living his best university life, all thanks to your hard-earned money—and you'd never complain about it. Whenever he needs money, you send it over without hesitation. It's actually healing, watching your younger sibling enjoy life without worries. And what makes it even more beautiful is knowing you're the one spoiling your baby brother.

It's not like you have anything against your family. No matter how different your childhood was from Hwan's, you were the oldest—it was your parents' first time being parents too. You understand that. Truly.

"Who is it?" you call out playfully from the other side of the door, peeking through the peephole. "Is it the best sister's brother?"

"Yeah, open the door, please," Hwan replies hurriedly, leaning on the door. He sounds embarrassed—probably someone's watching him in the hallway.

You open the door, which makes him flinch slightly and lose his balance. He gives you a sheepish smile and pulls you into a hug. You groan but hug him back before he steps in and kicks his shoes to the side.

"Where's Baby?" he asks, settling into your fancy living room. You've got your own lifestyle now—one you can afford, and you're not shy about spending money on the things you love.

"He's at daycare, learning new tricks I couldn't teach him, to be honest," you mutter, joining him on the couch as he turns on the TV. Baby is your dog—a cream-colored Chow Chow and the literal third member of the family. Everyone adores him more than they adore people.

"Yeah?" Hwan says, distracted while flipping through channels. Then he turns to you with a grin. "How's my boss been doing?"

You roll your eyes and slump further into the couch. You haven't told him about the breakup with Minju, and you're not planning to. "Same old. Work and more work," you reply, handing over the chips he'd begged you for on call.

"You gotta have some fun, y'know?" he says mid-chew. Well, no shit. "You and Hyung fighting or something? You removed your pictures with him."

"Did you come here for some drama?"

"No?" he blinks. "I'm just worried. You've never removed pictures with him before."

"Instagram is a kids' app. I just felt like clearing it up," you dodge. "I use it 'cause of my friends, that's all."

"Un?"

You hum, your face blank, unreadable.

"What?"

"You guys broke up?" he asks. "I called him earlier this week—since you weren't answering."

Well, yeah. You were at a club drowning the breakup in shots. "Why'd you call Ju? I told you not to call him unnecessarily."

"It wasn't unnecessary. It was evening, you weren't picking up," he says flatly. "It's not like I was bothering him. He's been dating you for what, three years? And now you guys break up just like that? That's crazy."

"He wanted a break. It's been, like, two weeks, I guess," you say casually. It humbles him. He knows you were in love. He's never seen his sister act all lovey-dovey before.

"Don't bullshit me," he pleads, setting the remote down. "No reason?"

"No reason," you lie. "Focus on your studies. Stop interfering in my life, for God's sake." It comes out harsher than intended.

Hwan stares at you, then clicks his tongue. "I'm just worried," he repeats. "But you know what? Fine. I won't interfere in your life again. My bad for actually caring about my sister."

You hum in response, guilt gnawing at you. You know you hurt him. He just wanted to help—but you're not in the headspace to accept that. You don't want to burden him.

"Mom was asking if you'll come home for Chuseok," he says, shifting the subject, knowing you won't talk about it.

"Maybe," you murmur with a shrug. "I'll see."

"C'mon, you didn't come last year either."

"I was busy." Or you just weren't in the mood to deal with the whole extended family.

"Come this year, yeah?" Hwan looks at you with puppy eyes. "Mom misses you. You're always busy, Un."

Un. The nickname he made up when he was a baby and couldn't pronounce your name properly. It stuck around for a long time. He never calls you "Unnie" or anything formal. You once told him it made you feel old. But if he calls you by your actual name? He knows that's a death wish.

"I'll come this year."

He smiles, hearing your reluctant sigh. "Perfect. I'll let Mom know."

You give him a thumbs-up, unable to hide a small smile at his excitement. "How's your uni?"

"Oh! Speaking of uni—" He perks up suddenly. "I've got a friend who needs a place to stay during the holiday week."

"And?" You're already uninterested. "No. I'm not letting one of your friends crash here again, Hwan." You shake your head firmly.

Last time that happened, his friend invited his girlfriend over and had sex in your bedroom.

Sex. Strangers. Your bedroom. You still can't think about it without cringing. You called a deep-cleaning service the next day. Hwan's never been more embarrassed in his life. But you didn't blame him. You knew it wasn't really his fault but youwere so pissed.

"I know what you're thinking, Un. But this time he's different—"

"No." You cut him off. No way you're risking that again. "I can just book him a hotel nearby, I can cover the expenses but there's no way I'm letting that bullshit happen again.”

He whines like a baby, "You think he'll take then? He's not asking for charity, Un."

You shrug, wanting to say the words 'Ain't my fault.' 

"C'mon, hear me out, please." He scoots closer. "He's a close friend. He came for Chuseok with me last year."

Hold up, what? Hwan never lets anyone get that close. He doesn't like flaunting family or wealth around his friends.

"Does he not have a family or something?"

"Rude," he chuckles. "He does. But they're out of town, and he couldn't join because of midterms."

You listen as he plays with your hair—a trick he always uses to soften you up.

"He's doing an internship near downtown, closer to your place. That's why he asked. He's just here for work—nothing else. And I promise he's not like the last guy."

"You promised last time too, and I'm still scared to step into my own room." You remind him.

"No, I didn't promise last time—I just agreed 'cause I wanted to seem cool."

Fair enough. He's a senior now—maybe he's finally grown up a little.

"What's so different about this friend?" you ask, swatting his hand from your hair. You're not falling for his tricks.

"He's my buddy. I post stories with him, Un."

"And I literally don't check stories. I'm not that free."

You mostly used Instagram to check on someone sometimes. You weren't the kind of person to stalk their ex in their free time...Right?

Wrong.

"I know," he sighs. "Just this once, and I know he's not like the other guy. Just let him stay over, I already promised him that my sister can help him."

"Aren't you worried that he would force your sister into something I wouldn't like?" You ask. It's an excuse of course. He would never let you be alone with a guy he didn't trust.

"You think I'll let a guy who I don't trust be alone with you?" He questions back, not wanting to play along on this topic. "I'm ready to beat Hyung up too if you just tell me what is up with both of you." 

You scoff. You knew he would actually beat up Minju after knowing the way Minju treated you sometimes. "Shut up, you ain't beating no one." You hit his arm lightly as he just rolls his eyes. "I'll let him stay over, whatever." You grumble, he tries to hide his smile but a small chuckle leaves his lips. He was happy you are finally agreeing.

"I swear you'll never hear my whining as again."

He extends his pinky. You eye it, then sigh and hook yours with his.

"Pinky swear?" you raise an eyebrow. "If anything happens this time, you're dead meat, Hwan."

He chuckles, nodding. "Pinky swear."

He sounded way too sure, and now you're kind of curious about this friend.

You both spent the rest of the evening trash-talking your parents' weird life choices, each with a tub of ice cream in hand, watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

These are the moments you miss the most with Hwan. He's your baby brother—but really, you've always been more like his mom than your actual mom has. Hwan ended up crashing for the weekend—because you promised him shopping the next morning.

"Can't. I'm busy for the winter, Ju." You lie smoothly over the phone, your voice calm, practiced. It wasn't unusual—you and Minju had been on and off for nearly the entire two years of your relationship. This dance of half-truths and full lies had become routine at this point. He lies, you understand. You lie, he understands.

But the truth?

You weren't busy. In fact, Minju had already confirmed that by calling your secretary before he called you. Typical Minju—calculated, always one step ahead. Always knowing how to corner you. Always making sure he's catious around you. Always making his words sound in the right way.

"C'mon, baby," he pleads from the other end of the line, voice soft with just the right amount of urgency. "It's important this time. You need to come for the press. Please, love."

You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes fixed on the glittering skyline from your office window. The city below glows, indifferent to the storm inside your head and the gut wrecking feeling in your chest. You are supposed to be leaving your building by this point but you're here talking with none other your first love. You keep rocking gently in your chair, letting the silence on your end build a sense of false control.

Minju wasn't just a good boyfriend—when he wanted to be. He was an excellent businessman. Cold when needed, charming when useful, ruthless when it came to profit. And nothing brought him more public attention, more clicks and sales, than having you as the face of his latest skincare launch for his company. 

"Just this once," you finally murmur. "I'm not doing this again."

He makes a kissing sound through the phone, loud enough to make you roll your eyes. You click your tongue, annoyed but not really angry. He laughs, recognizing your usual dismissiveness.

"Thank you, baby. I knew you'd say yes," he says warmly, the smugness tucked neatly behind the velvet tone of his voice. Of course he knew. Have you ever really said no to him? Never. Will you ever say no to him? Never. 

"Mhm, when have I ever said no to you?" You murmur, he chuckles before he coos you when he hears a yawn from your side."

"Baby, you sound tired. Do you want me to come over?" he asks, softer this time—gentler, realizing he might’ve bummed you out too much.

"Can’t today. Had a long meeting and stuff." You reply back, digging through your bag with one hand and holding your phone with the other.

"I bet. Always working hard… I could come over with food and cuddles?" He’s testing the waters now, expecting you to finally admit there’s someone else over. When you don’t reply and he hears the rustling of your things instead, he swears to god he wants to shake some sense into you. "Listen… Hwan texted me. Said his friend is crashing at your place for the weekend?"

You freeze. "Yeah. It’s like last time. I forgot to text you cause… I thought we were on a break?"

He sighs. It’s small, but there. "Right… I get it. Just—maybe next time, give me a heads-up?"

"Ju, don’t make it a big deal. It’s the same way his last friend stayed over." Your tone is exasperated now. You’re trying to be calm, trying not to turn this into a fight tonight.

"I’m just saying. You live alone. And he’s a guy. You know how things look." He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his voice.

You curse under your breath, clutching your purse tighter. The hum of the elevator rolling down grows louder as the floor numbers blink past. "To who? You?" You fire back.

"It makes me uncomfortable—listen, I care about you, okay? Just text me. I’ll be there if he tries anything. He can even stay at my place."

"Ju, he’s not some charity case, and I’m not defending him. I’m just saying nothing’s gonna happen. And even if it did—we’re not even together?" You let out a sigh, finally stepping out of the elevator.

"But you still pick up my calls. We’re still a couple for the media. I just said it was a break. That doesn’t mean you can have other guys over, does it?" His tone feigns innocence, but it’s laced with heat underneath.

You roll your eyes, gripping your phone tighter. "You never gave me a single clear term for this goddamn ‘break.’ One week you vanish and say we’re done, the next you text like nothing happened, calling it a break. Even if I do sleep with someone, it wouldn’t matter. You ignored my texts for days. The only reason you even called was for some work thing."

He stays quiet for a second before speaking, like he's trying not to snap. "So what? Doesn’t that make you feel bad for you?"

You’re already walking to your car, the cold air making your words sharper. "No. What makes me feel bad is you never trying for us. You always ask for time. Space. Breaks. It breaks me down, Ju." Your voice drops, a tired edge taking over now. 

There’s a pause again. You can hear him breathing, like he wants to argue but can’t find the words.

"If you can’t be mature enough to figure shit out, another man will come and fill in." You groan, unlocking your car door, the beep loud in the silence.

"I don’t even know what Jeongguk looks like, to begin with, so what’s the point in arguing over a man who means nothing to me?"

He stays silent. You know he’s biting his tongue.

"You know what actually hurts? The man who actually means something asks for breaks like it’s nothing. That’s what fucking hurts. And then acting surprised when I try to move on while you’re still undecided." Your tone calms down just a notch, not wanting to sound mad in public as you open the car door and toss your purse in.

"I’ll call you later. Or text." You say, already half in the car.

You give a soft kiss through the call, then hang up before he can say anything else that’ll ruin your already long day. The moment the call ends, you finally exhale. The tightness in your chest refuses to loosen up—but you take a deep breath anyway, starting the car and pulling away from the curb, leaving your workplace.

—x—

Wattpad [Ch02]

< comment to be added in taglist >

A/N:

😫 UGH, i wanted to post a longer chapter but i want the character's introduction together be personal and another chapter. i love this story sm like it has a lot talks about traumas and stuff! DONOT hate on anyone, no one is cheating or anything. Everything will be more understandable once the story goes one. Have a lovely day/ night.

Jelly.

[jellyj777]

05; Words. | The Patient

THE PATIENT | Book | Ch05;Words.

JungkookxReader (smut/fluff/angst)

— Falling in love with a patient in an asylum might not be everyone's tea but you had a thing to fix something you never broke at first place.

Words: 1.7k

TROPES:: One sided hate, Therapist Au.

SYNOPSIS:: —"Don't trust me, Believe in me"

WARNINGS:: Talk about abuse, Violence ahead, explicit language, Anger issues

<-prev | index | next->

"She lied?" Hoseok asks, munching on his fat-ass burger.

It's been two days since the incident with Jungkook happened, and after checking the cameras, it turns out he was right—Ji A did kiss him, or at least tried to. Jungkook stepped back with his usual angry frown, scoffing, before walking away from her.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t meet up with Hoseok for the past two days due to your busy schedules. Hoseok was busy showing the new interns around the office, and whenever you guys would text, it would be after office hours, with him always replying to your messages with things like, "I ain’t talking 'bout work now," or simply dodging any work-related questions.

You had a talk with Ji A yesterday, and this is turning out to be a lot more confusing than it was intended to be. Ji A basically blamed you for accusing her of something so ridiculous. To begin with, this topic wasn’t even that serious.

She even went as far as to say that Jungkook wasn’t even attractive enough for her to kiss. But the cameras said otherwise. She can have her opinions about anyone's looks, but that doesn’t mean she’ll straight-up lie to your face about it.

You showed her the footage, and she was too guilty to speak up then. Not only did she try to lie, but she also tried to gaslight you by saying random things. It’s difficult when patients are sensitive, and it’s obvious that it's their defense mechanism.

"Yeah, then she tried to gaslight me too," you deadpan, eating your own burger. It’s after work hours, and you both are in a nearby fast food place, literally diving into your food.

After telling him the whole story from both sides, you sip your water and speak up. "Seok, I wanna ask a favor."

He hums and continues eating. "What is it?" he asks, meeting your gaze with raised eyebrows. You don’t ask favors often, so this must be something interesting. When you do ask, they’re either infuriating or cool.

"Is there any room available on my floor for a patient?"

"Y/N, seriously?"

You go silent and nod. He got the meaning of what you want: a room for either Ji A or Jungkook on your floor. "Which person?" he asks.

"Jungkook. He asked me a favor—"

He cuts you off firmly. "Y/N, he gets outbursts outta nowhere, and that’s why he’s away from all the patients." He replies, "Your floor is literally near the reception. I don’t think it’s good for the hospital’s reputation either."

Okay, what the fuck.

You pout in resignation and continue sipping your coke. "He asked me twice—literally begged me, Seok. The incident did affect him a lot," you speak. "What’s the reason for you acting so harsh?"

"Y/N, he gets sudden outbursts." His eyebrows draw together in confusion. "Why are we having this conversation right now?"

"So?"

"So… that means he’ll attract unwanted attention," he replies. You go silent. He’s correct, and you hate how correct he is. "See? You know that too."

"Okay, okay, what if I make sure he doesn’t have any outbursts?" you blurt out.

He laughs. Fucking laughs at how ironic you're being right now. "C’mon, Seok, give him a chance. If he outbursts more than three times the whole time, you have my word he’ll be shifted back to his room. How’s that?"

He looks at you as if you’re being serious. He puts his burger down and sips his coke. Okay, you’re serious.

Dead serious, with that determined expression on your face, he sighs. "Fine, fine. I’ll look for something. But if he bursts outta nowhere the fourth time, he’ll go back. Okay?"

"Okay!" You note his words correctly and give him a thumbs up, to which he just rolls his eyes with a smile.

Has Hoseok ever lied to you? Never. And holy shit, he actually found a way to get a room for Jungkook near your office. A week later, Jungkook’s stuff was shifted downstairs.

"How’s the room?" you ask Jungkook with the biggest smile on your face, like you’ve won the lottery or something.

"Um, isn’t it a little childish?" he asks, not answering your question. Your smile drops, and so do your eyes toward the room.

Well, yeah, it was a little childish. The walls were pastel-colored—pink, blue, and lilac. The cute drawings made by children who stayed here before also made it look childlike.

"A little, yeah," you admit, a blush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. "I’m sorry, but this was the only available room for the time being."

He shrugs and a 'whatever' escapes his lips before he lies down on the bed. The important thing for him was that your office was close to him, and you were close to him. That made him feel safe for the time being.

"So, Jungkook, do you remember why we got shifted here?" you ask, just to be sure Jungkook remembers your earlier words and the talks you’ve had in therapy sessions for the past week.

"Yeah," he closes his eyes and continues to lie down on the bed. "I remember, doc," he mimics your tone.

"Okay, good," you smile and drag a chair toward his bedside. "Tell me."

"Hm?" He opens his eyes and tilts his head to the side to look at you. You sit on the chair and give him a nod of reassurance to talk about the rules you discussed earlier. "Do we have to?" he whines.

You’ve never heard him whine. It’s both funny and cute at the same time.

"Yes, Jungkook, I’m waiting."

"Ugh, fine," a groan leaves his mouth. Jungkook sits up with his back pressed against the headboard of the bed. His legs cross as he stares at you. "I will take my meds, talk to you about anything, and I won’t leave the room without permission."

"Good, one more left," you praise.

"I won’t yell outta nowhere," he says in a robotic, mimicking voice. "But that’s not fair, y’know. It’s not in my hands if I wanna yell or not."

That’s true. You nod in agreement. "I mean, yeah, you’re right, but that’s where the medication rules come in. I don’t mind if you yell, but I want to see if you’re taking your pills because that’s one of the ways you calm down, right?"

"Right."

You smile back and nod with pride. "That’s good." With a murmur, you take a seat on the chair beside his bed. Doctors aren’t allowed to sit on the same bed as the patient, as it might make them uncomfortable, and the last thing you want is for Jungkook to be uncomfortable.

"Jungkook," you start, "I know it’s been a little while since I’ve known you, but can we try to be more socially friendly with everyone else?"

He frowns, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. "Is this about that patient?"

"Well, no? It’s just…" you sigh. "It’s the fact that I wanna reduce your intake of pills. But if I reduce them, the triggers will still stimulate your brain with anger whenever you get annoyed or frustrated." You pause as he stares at you, a bit confused.

Your leg continues to shake—up and down, up and down—as you bite your lower lip, thinking. "Um, if I reduce the pills and you’re not socializing, then it will be of no good."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So, like, why are we reducing my pills, though? No other doctor did that. Matter of fact, mine just got increased last week. The dose shit you were talking about?" he questions as you nod.

He’s right, but taking pills long-term is harmful for anyone, and he’s already damaged his body long enough.

"Yeah, I’m aware, but taking pills isn’t exactly healthy, y’know? It’s like a drug. You know drugs?"

He nods, finally understanding a bit. "Did some back in high school," he shrugs and runs his hand through his long hair.

The silence grows as a soft sigh escapes your lips. "God, not that type of drugs. You know what type of drugs I’m talking about." Of course, he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he loves to mess with you. His smirk says it all. He shrugs, and Lord, you wish you could roll your eyes at him. "Anyways, I’ll think of something, okay? Don’t worry too much about this stuff." 

He nods absently, fingers toying with the elastic band on his wrist, stretching it, releasing it, stretching it again. The rhythm is almost hypnotic.

“You’re coming to therapy today?” you ask, though you already know the answer. It’s routine at this point—Jungkook’s reluctance, his passive resistance, the inevitable ‘Yeah’ he throws out like it costs him something. 

This time, he shifts his gaze from the window to you, a slow, deliberate movement. His lips curl into a smirk, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Guess it’s either getting strangled by meds or sitting through your little life lessons,” he muses, flicking the elastic against his wrist. “I gotta pick the easier option, right?”

The words hit sharper than they should, but this is Jungkook. He knows where to aim. Knows exactly how to twist the knife just enough to make you feel it.

Your feet bounces under the bed, nerves you refuse to show. You felt like gripping on the floor with your toes through hospital slippers you wore but you won’t play into his games.

“Well,” you manage, voice steadier than you feel, “that means I’ll see you at therapy, then.” You force a small laugh, awkward, a weak attempt at normalcy. For a fraction of a second, his smirk falters. Just a little. But he recovers quickly, raising an eyebrow like he’s won.

“I believe so too,” he says, gaze flickering away, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.

You don’t let yourself linger. You stand, smooth out your shirt, and leave the room quietly, shutting the door behind you. The moment you’re in the hallway, a breath shudders out of you, heavy and strained.

Holy fuck.

It shouldn’t get to you. You’ve heard worse, dealt with patients who lashed out, spit venom, tried to hurt before they let themselves be helped. But somehow, Jungkook’s words slice through your defenses in a way no one else’s have and it wasn't the part that he was force smiling but it was more likely the part that you've tried to help him and god knows how long you can keep up with this,

You steel yourself, lifting your chin. You won’t let him—or anyone—shake you like this. Not today. Not ever. So you fix your hair, square your shoulders, and do a little pep whisper talk before walking away.

wattpad:CH05 (read on wattpad)

A/N:

taglist; @seokout @khadeeeeej @bybyash ‘to be added in the taglist : comment’

Here's an update after soooo long. Anyways, love you and have an amazing day ! this chapter is small but i'll be posting another update on friday and it will be a longer chapter hopefully. i'll be updating magoa too ugh too much work atp but i feel so bad. did you guys watch when life gives you tangerines? ugh i cried ugly on that for freaking 6 hours every friday. Recommended if you didn't watch it loll! anyways, love yall.

happy april from jelly.

[jellyj777]

Will you be updating this week?

Update on Friday!

[jellyj777]

Hi guys,

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while but everything is so fucked up. My life is so fucked rn,, and I’m having too many breakdowns to form the storyline of TP but I’ll post a new chapter by next week.

Take care. XOXO