jungshaking

[jungshaking]

It’s quiet from me here bc I’m over on AO3 reading this absolute monster of a book (670k words!!)

🌸 Police officer! Jungkook x Single Mom Childhood Friend Named OC

[jungshaking]

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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[jungshaking]

mutual help | index

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing | © 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝)

𓍯𝗧𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗿: 

#01 | #02 | #03 | #04 | #05 | #06 | #07 | #08 | #09 | #10

#11 | #12 | #13 | #14 | #15 | #16 | #17 | #18 | #19 | #20

#21 | #22 | #23 | #24 | #25 | #26 | #27 | #28 | #29 | #30

#31 | #32 | #33 | #34 | #35 | #36 | #37 | #38 | #39 | #40

#41 | #42 | #43 | #44 | #45 | #46 | #47 | #48 | #49 | #50

#51 | #52 | #53 | #54 | #55 | #56 | #57 | #58 | #59 | #60

𓍯𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀:

No longer available on Wattpad [read announcement here] | AO3

drabbles masterlist (in no particular order)

𓍯𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣

#the one you and Jungkook meet for the first time

#the one where you’re on your period

#the one where Jungkook saves you from a drunk guy at the club

#the one where you get drunk and Jungkook handles you

#the one where it’s your birthday

#the one with a phone call between you and Jungkook

#the one where it’s Halloween

𓍯𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣

#the one where Jungkook has his breakfast… you

#the one where you stay at Jungkook’s place and you kiss and cuddle instead

#the one where you and Taehyung almost kissed and have a conversation about it the next morning

𓍯𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣

…

𓍯𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗦

#mh!taehyung drabble

[jungshaking]

Lone Blue Egg (Master)

Header and lines by the talented @awrkives

Summary: Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he's a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he's good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he's not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn't actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.

Penguin Hybrid Jungkook x Bird Female OC Book 1 in the Birdtan Series

CW/TAGS: humor, drama, angst, cringe, explicit sex, toy play/toy uh obsession?, ice cubes, porn, cam girls and masturbation, oviposition, oral (both), edging, semi-public shenanigans, mammoth condoms, specism, language, theft

Read on AO3 or below

Part 1 (8,119 words)

Part 2 (14,495 words)

Part 3 (18,810 words)

Part 4 (13,336 words)

Part 5 (25,273 words)

Part 6 (21,855 words)

Next book in the series

[jungshaking]

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬

a/n: welcome to my little reading corner! This post is my love letter to the fics and authors that stole my sleep, left me clutching my heart, or made me shed tears. These are the stories that left their mark on me last year. New or older, re-reads or first times. I hope you’ll find something here that speaks to you as deeply as it did to me. And if you have a recs to share or a favourite trope to gush about, my comment section is always open or jump here to tell me! Let’s keep celebrating the beautiful chaos of what this fandom can bring. Love you fairies. PS: I cannot wait to dive into the projects I have started on my own ♥

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @sailoryooons Namjoon x female reader; werewolf au - absolutely astonishing, amazing rendition of the trope, kept me in the world from beginning till the end, an unmissable gem; i've found it difficult to find good namjoon!werewolf content on this app for a long time and this just embodies everything and even more that I was hoping for.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @personasintro min yoongi x reader; zombie apocalypse au - I actually revisited this fic and it was just as perfect as when I read it the first time, heck, if I wasn't sucker for Min Yoongi then, this made me crush on that man even more.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @solecize jungkook x reader; friends to lovers, inspired by stardew valley - beautiful, beautiful and beautiful, cutest fic ever, i was rooting for them so much and I just might go and re-read this now as this was so touching to read.

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 & 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐛𝐲 @lostberet min yoongi x female reader; racer boyfriend; smut - HOT, HOT, HOT, did I say HOT?

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊! 𝐛𝐲 @lovieku fuckboy!jungkook x female reader; fwb - I actually re-read this today, or yesterday, whenever, depends on when I post this, and the way the narrative flows is so captivating, and I love me some miss grande inspired content, naturally fell in love with this fic

𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 @hollyhomburg polyamory bts x reader; omegaverse au, mafia au; dom-sub dynamics - like what do you mean that I cannot marry this fic, tsk, i want to, i need to, so many sleepless night because i just wanted know what happens next; to confess, i did avoid this fic, and now i can tell that this is just the kind that you avoid and avoid and then you're completely soft and fluffy for it. such complex themes being incorporated into the narrative in a way that's going to tight your aorta enough for you to cry and cry and then it will release and you'll feel the dopamine and excitement flowing through your body. bravo.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @ktownshizzle dad yoongi x teacher female reader - when i say that this fic slapped me you won't believe why, but it did. Cutest, emotional, and just so captivating to read. ps: capybara capybara capybara capybara capybaraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

𝐚𝐦𝐲𝐠𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐚 𝐛𝐲 @chaoticpuff17 yandere yoongi x named mc; mafia au - Becca the queen has always a way to characterize the shit out of her yandere male characters and MIN YOONGI is something here! I perceive this masterpiece as a good reinvention of fics with named MCs coz we gradually forgot about that it seems. Becca to the whitehouse pls!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐲 @angelicyoongie yandere ot7 x female reader; soulmate au - as someone whose academia expertise became the study of narratology, I propose this to be a new submission to the field because this narrative structure is illegally good. Excellently crafted, scenes are gradually built upon from chapter one till the very end, and the end makes your heartbeat faster and in unison the oc (ain't gonna spoil).

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @97kuu jungkook x reader; smut, friends to lovers au - car sex became underrated trope and we should all learn and f*cking worship this smut area, pleaaaseee, I love car sex smut, I need to read about it more often and this fic is just chef's kiss.

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐛𝐲 @hueseok jungkook x reader; inspired by purple hearts - since the movie came out I was waiting who will jump to do a fic with the boys inspired by it and this one did not disappoint. Remarkable, amazing rendition, and I wish I could read it again and again for the first time.

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @chaoticpuff17 yandere namjoon x female reader; mafia au, forced marriage - words will never be enough to talk about how this fic has my brain occupied for years. it holds a special place in my heart, as this was the first ever bts mafia fic i've ever read. hence, i am doing annual re-read. sometimes even several times a read. covid times were rough and i'm glad we all had something to hold space for at the time. this fic it is for me, a sanctuary, albeit its themes, and subsequently its sequel 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

until we meet again fairies. love, p.

[jungshaking]

The Wrong Sister

Pairing: prince!Jungkook x princess!female reader

Genre: angst, smut, royalty au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: She was never his choice- until she became his world.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, angst, smut, royalty au, slow burn?, power struggle, age gap (10 yrs), older jungkook, arranged marriage, (somewhat) enemies to lovers, jealousy, jungkook is a meanie 🙁, possessiveness, hurt/comfort, politics, soft love, declarations, explicit: multiple smut scenes, consensual, unprotected sex, cold/obligatory sex, power play, loving sex, praise, degradation, oral (f. receiving), fingering, clit play, overstimulation

A/N: this was a request from a lovely anon 🫶 friends, i redid the outline for this multiple times bc i normally shy away from fantasies/royalty, so it was cool to try it out! hopefully it lives up to expectations!! (also i rlly don’t know what time period this so just imagine wtv 🫩)

Note: jungkook’s pov is noted. if it isn’t- it’s y/n’s! also y/n is 21, jungkook is 31, jisoo is 26

♡ MASTERLIST

═══════

The mirror stares back at you like it’s trying to convince you of something.

That you’re beautiful. That you’re lucky. That this is what you’ve always wanted.

But the mirror lies.

You’re dressed in layers of ivory lace and silk so heavy it feels like armor. Gold threads snake across your bodice like vines, binding you into a shape you barely recognize. Somewhere behind you, handmaidens fuss with ribbons and brocade, cooing soft words you don’t hear. Your reflection looks poised- majestic, even.

But you feel like you’re drowning beneath the weight of expectation.

Your chest tightens. Not from nerves. No, you’d welcome nerves. This is worse. This is suffocation. The perfume in the room is too sweet. The silence, too loud. Every delicate “Princess” that slips from a servant’s tongue hits like a blade.

You’re getting married today.

To a man you’ve barely spoken to.

A man who’s ten years older.

A prince from a kingdom that needed a treaty more than a love story.

You catch your own gaze in the mirror again. Your lips are painted, your hair perfectly pinned, your veil stitched with symbols older than your name. You look like a queen-in-the-making.

But inside?

You’re unraveling.

“Too tight,” you say sharply, not looking at the handmaiden tying your corset.

She freezes. “Apologies, Your Highness…”

You stand abruptly, fingers tugging the laces yourself until the pressure eases from your ribs.

“Leave,” you murmur.

They hesitate.

“I said leave.”

Their skirts whisper across the marble floor as they vanish, one by one, until the room is yours again. Quiet. Empty. Suffocating.

You exhale shakily and lower yourself onto the velvet stool near the fire. You should feel like a bride. Instead, you feel like a pawn being moved across a glittering board.

A knock at the door makes your spine go rigid.

“Come in,” you say, voice tighter than you’d like.

The door creaks open. And there she is.

Jisoo.

Your older sister. Your kingdom’s golden girl.

She steps inside delicately, wrapped in blush silk with her hair softly swept up, eyes wide with sympathy you don’t want. She’s everything gentle and graceful the court adores. She looks like spring in human form.

And she looks like someone’s first choice.

“Soo,” you say, your tone unsure- too many emotions knotted in one syllable.

She smiles. Soft. Almost apologetic. “You look… stunning.”

You blink at her. “Why weren’t you here earlier?”

“I thought you’d want to be alone.”

“I didn’t,” you admit. “Not today.”

She hesitates a step from you. Her fingers curl into each other.

You feel the question bubbling before you can stop it. “Does he love you?”

The words spill out like poison.

Jisoo’s expression flickers- guilt, shock, something unreadable but she catches it before it fully forms. “Y/N…”

“You don’t have to lie,” you whisper. “Not today.”

“I never encouraged it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You must’ve known.” Your voice cracks just slightly. “He looks at you like you’re the crown he lost.”

Jisoo swallows, her voice quiet. “He’s marrying you.”

You stare into the fire, the flickering light licking at your gown like flame to paper. “But he wanted you.”

She doesn’t answer. And her silence says more than a confession ever could.

You don’t blame her. Not really. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Maybe you should be the one marrying him,” you say, not able to meet her eyes.

“I would never take this from you,” she breathes.

You turn to face her finally. “Would it really be stealing if I was just keeping your seat warm?”

The air between you thickens. You’re not angry at her. Not really. You’re angry at fate. At politics. At the cold man waiting at the altar who wants a different bride.

Jisoo takes a step closer. “You’re stronger than you think.”

“No, I’m just better at pretending.”

She reaches out to touch your shoulder. You don’t pull away, but you don’t lean in either.

“He’ll learn to love you,” she says gently. “Anyone would.”

You let out a dry laugh, sharp as glass. “You don’t learn to love someone like me. You endure her.”

The bell tolls outside- three slow, echoing chimes that stretch across the walls like the opening notes of a funeral dirge.

It’s time.

You rise. Your gown shifts like water. You steady your shoulders, straighten your crown. You feel her watching you, but you can’t look at her again.

Because you are walking down the aisle

Not as the girl he dreamed of. Not as the sister he wanted. But as the bride he’s stuck with.

The chapel smells like ancient roses and old prayers.

You glide down the aisle slowly, deliberately, as the eyes of two kingdoms drink you in. The train of your gown trails behind you like spilled moonlight. Hundreds of royals, nobles, and dignitaries line the carved pews, all dressed in silks and golds, but none of them matter. You feel them watching, judging, whispering about your age, your family, your worth.

But you only look forward.

You keep your eyes on the altar where Prince Jeon Jungkook stands like he’s carved from ice.

He doesn’t smile.

Not even a flicker of warmth touches his face when he sees you. His expression remains cold, impassive, lips a straight line, shoulders square. You wonder if he even sees you or if he’s just counting the seconds until this political obligation is complete.

The music swells. The world fades.

You reach him.

He doesn’t offer his hand.

The High Cleric begins the ceremony with blessings in a language older than either of your kingdoms. You barely hear the words. Your fingers are trembling in your gloves. You feel like you’re underwater. Everything is soft and distant and slow.

Until it’s time for the vows.

You turn to face him. And his eyes aren’t on you.

They’re on her.

You see it. Just for a second. A flicker. A heartbeat. But it’s real.

His gaze shifts- barely, subtly- but you know the direction. You don’t even have to look.

Jisoo.

She’s seated near the front. Pale dress. Downcast eyes. Perfect posture. As still and serene as a statue. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t acknowledge it.

But you feel it. All of it.

The phantom of his feelings for her settles like a chill between your ribs.

“Repeat after me,” the Cleric intones, unaware of the slow fracture blooming in your chest.

You say the words.

You pledge your body, your name, your crown.

You do not cry.

He says the words, too. Calm. Flat. Emotionless. He binds himself to you in front of gods and ghosts, but his voice doesn’t tremble. Not from nerves. Not from affection.

Because he feels nothing.

He lifts your veil. His hands are steady. Distant.

Your first kiss as husband and wife is just that- a formality. His lips brush yours like the passing of winter wind. No passion. No warmth. No curiosity.

The crowd erupts into applause.

You smile.

You have to.

He offers you his arm.

You take it.

You walk down the aisle together, shoulder to shoulder but not touching, as cheers rain down from the golden arches of the chapel.

You smile.

You have to.

And though you can feel him beside you… 

he says nothing.

═══════

The ballroom gleams with gold and artifice.

You’re standing in the center of it, hand in hand with a man who hasn’t spoken a word to you all day. Not during the procession. Not during the ceremony. Not after the kiss. Not when he escorted you down the aisle like he was walking beside a shadow.

And now, in front of hundreds of watching eyes, it’s time for the first dance.

The music begins. You take one step forward, and so does he.

His gloved hand rests against your waist like he’s afraid to touch you too firmly- as if contact might imply something that isn’t there. His other hand holds yours, just tight enough to be respectful, just distant enough to make your stomach sink.

You lift your eyes to his.

And for the first time, he speaks, “You should smile.”

Your breath catches.

“That’s what they’re expecting,” he continues, voice low, precise. “A happy bride. A glowing princess.”

You try to smile, but it curls wrong on your lips.

“And you?” you murmur, eyes still fixed on his. “Are you pretending too?”

His grip tightens ever so slightly. “I’m fulfilling a role.”

You laugh- soft, bitter. “And what role is that? Dutiful husband or heartless executioner?”

He doesn’t answer.

You move together across the marble floor like strangers trapped in the same song. The music is beautiful, swelling in delicate arcs around you. But you can’t feel any of it.

“What did I do to make you hate this so much?” you whisper.

He blinks, slowly. “I don’t hate you.”

“No?” you scoff. “Then why won’t you look at me the way you looked at her?”

The words are out before you can stop them. His jaw clenches.

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“She’s already in it,” you breathe. “You put her there when you looked at her during our vows.”

The music swells again, a waltz that sounds too pretty for this kind of pain.

“I don’t want to embarrass you,” he says finally, voice tight.

You force a smile- sharp, graceful, empty. “Too late.”

He turns you in a slow spin, elegant, effortless. From a distance, the court sees perfection. A prince and his new bride, radiant under the candlelight.

But you know better.

You feel the space between your bodies like a scar that hasn’t healed yet.

“Do you love her?” you ask, quiet enough for only him to hear.

He doesn’t answer.

His silence slices deeper than any truth could.

You feel your chest tighten, throat burning. But your face? Your face stays royal. Untouched. Serene.

“Will I ever be more than her shadow to you?”

You see something flicker in his gaze, but it’s gone as fast as it comes.

“You were not the choice,” he says at last.

You blink. You stop moving for half a second. Your shoes nearly slip on the polished floor. The world tilts.

But then the music carries on.

So you do too.

He guides you back into motion, and you match him- fluid, poised, empty.

When the music ends, he steps back. Bows. You curtsy.

Applause erupts across the hall. And you smile so wide it almost cracks your face open.

═══════

The halls are empty when you’re escorted to the royal bedchamber.

No music now. No guests. No watching eyes. Just the sound of your heels against marble and your pulse humming beneath your skin.

The doors are already open.

He’s already inside.

You step in carefully, unsure of what you’ll find. The room is as grand as you imagined- pillars of carved obsidian, embroidered silks draped from the high ceiling, a fire crackling in the hearth like it’s mocking you with its warmth. A table is set with untouched wine. Rose petals litter the floor like someone believed romance could be faked.

He stands by the window, facing away from you. Still dressed in full ceremonial regalia. Still silent.

The doors shut behind you with a hollow thud.

You wait.

You don’t know what you’re waiting for. Instructions? Affection? A beginning?

Instead, you get nothing.

You unclasp your cloak. It falls silently around your feet. Your hair is pinned and tight, your corset aching against your ribs. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to be held.

But he still won’t look at you.

“It’s done,” you say quietly, just to break the silence.

He hums in acknowledgment. Doesn’t turn.

You take a step forward, cautious. “Is there something you’d like me to do?”

At last, he speaks. “Sleep. That’s all.”

That’s all.

The words hang heavy in the air.

You try not to show it, but your fingers curl against your side. “Isn’t this… expected?”

“I don’t owe them a performance.”

“And me?” you ask.

He turns to face you now, slowly. His expression unreadable. Cold. He looks at you like a decision he regrets making. Like a formality he’s been assigned.

“You don’t want this,” he says.

You flinch at the assumption. “You don’t know what I want.”

“You want love. Passion. Devotion.” He crosses his arms. “I’m not the man who gives those things.”

“No,” you say, stepping closer, “you’re the man who gives silence. Distance. Glances meant for someone else.”

His jaw ticks.

You keep going. You’re tired of swallowing pain. “You said your vows. You kissed me. You danced with me. And not once did you pretend I was enough.”

“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Oh, so this is honesty?” you snap. “This- coldness. This rejection. This… emptiness?”

He sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. His voice is quieter now. “It’s mercy.”

You shake your head. “It’s cruelty.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment.

You break the silence again. “Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t want to be just some treaty girl, either? That I didn’t want to marry a man in love with someone else?”

His face flickers. Just briefly.

You don’t know what emotion it is. Pity? Guilt? Regret?

But it fades too quickly to hold onto.

“You can sleep in here if you want,” he says, voice controlled again. “Or I’ll have a separate room prepared.”

You take a deep breath, walk past him toward the bed. You don’t look at him. Not this time.

“I’ll stay here,” you say softly. “Not because I want you. But because this is my marriage, too.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, spine straight, heart hollow. And he walks away without another word.

The doors close.

You are alone.

Again.

You unlace your corset with trembling fingers. You slide the jewelry off your skin like it’s shackles. You curl beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling that feels more like sky than stone.

And for the first time since the ceremony began, you let the tears fall. No one hears them. No one sees. And when morning comes, you will wear the crown like it never hurt.

═══════

The palace is dead quiet after midnight.

You lie still in the enormous bed, staring up at the carved ceiling, your body wrapped in satin, your heart wrapped in stone.

Jungkook came back hours ago.

He didn’t speak when he entered.

He didn’t speak when he undressed, carefully, methodically, folding his ceremonial uniform with military precision and draping a robe over his bare chest. He didn’t speak when he climbed into the opposite side of the bed, a world away from your side.

He just turned his back to you.

And that was that.

You listened to his breathing even out. Watched the fire in the hearth dim into embers. Let the weight of the sheets press your body down like a crown too heavy to wear.

Sleep never came.

The silence around you was too loud.

You watched the moonlight crawl across the walls until your eyes ached. You imagined what it might’ve felt like to be chosen. To be wanted. To be seen.

You almost didn’t hear it.

A whisper. Barely there.

You blink, breath catching, your body frozen as stone.

Then again- soft. Muffled. Threaded with sleep.

“…Jisoo…”

Your heart stops.

The name barely drips from his mouth- half breath, half confession- but it’s real. It slithers through the shadows between you like smoke.

“…Jisoo…”

He shifts in the bed beside you, still deep in dreams.

And you?

You’re wide awake.

The ache in your chest is immediate and consuming. Sharp enough to make your eyes water, soft enough to break you slowly. You don’t speak. Don’t move.

You lie there, paralyzed. Because how can you scream when the knife was never even meant for you?

It was a whisper. A sleep-talk. A mistake.

But it was her name. Not yours.

Not once tonight- not in his gaze, not in his vows, not in his arms- did you belong to him. But her? She owns the quietest part of him. The part he doesn’t even guard.

You turn your head toward him slowly. His face is peaceful in sleep. Untroubled. Like he hasn’t just carved you open.

You stare at him for a long time.

And for the first time since this all began, you don’t feel sad. You feel cold.

Numb. Resolved.

You pull the covers tighter around you- not for warmth, but for armor.

He may have married you.

But he dreams of her.

And if he thinks you’ll stay quiet forever, if he thinks you’ll simply live in her shadow…

He doesn’t know you at all.

═══════

The first week of marriage does not belong to you.

It belongs to the court.

Every morning begins with a maid waking you before the sun, layering you in gowns chosen by someone else, and fitting a crown so heavy you can feel it in your spine. Every day ends with aching cheeks from holding the same smile for hours.

They don’t call you by name anymore.

You’re Her Royal Highness, Princess Consort of the Northern Kingdom.

A title. Not a person.

The palace calendar is full- parades, charity luncheons, handshakes with foreign diplomats, appearances at schools, hospitals, markets. At each stop, you are arranged like part of the decor. A jeweled accessory for the prince’s arm.

He almost never offers it.

When he does, it’s for the benefit of the crowd. An elbow bent at a perfect angle, a smile carved into place like it was taught, not felt. He’s a master of performance.

So are you.

The people cheer for the image of you both. They throw flower petals into the street, shout blessings, push forward to glimpse their fairytale couple.

If only they knew fairytales rot when the gold is only paint.

At the textile factory, you stand beside him while the foreman gushes about the kingdom’s prosperity. At the ribbon-cutting for a new bridge, you’re handed the scissors, smiling for the press while Jungkook stares past you at some distant point, as though the moment doesn’t require him.

Sometimes, you catch yourself wondering if he forgets you’re even there.

You’ve learned the choreography. Sit still. Smile faintly. Look engaged, but not outspoken. Be regal, but not commanding. Be graceful, but not bold.

Be there.

But never be.

The only time you feel remotely human is during the carriage rides between engagements, when the curtains are drawn, and the crowds can’t see you.

That’s when the silence between you becomes unbearable. He doesn’t speak.

You don’t either.

But you glance at him once, catching his profile in the dim light. It’s like looking at a portrait- beautiful, distant, untouchable. You turn away before he can feel you watching.

By the end of the week, you’ve perfected the role:

A crown without a voice.

═══════

It happens because it has to.

Not because he wants you. Not because you want him. But because it’s expected. Because the kingdom will talk if it doesn’t.

The door opens without a knock. You glance up from your seat on the edge of the bed, silk robe tied loosely around your waist, hair falling over your shoulders. He steps inside, closing the door with quiet finality.

“We need to talk,” you say.

“Not tonight.” His voice is low, clipped, as he shrugs out of his coat. “This isn’t a conversation.”

Your brow furrows. “Then what is it?”

He looks at you but it’s the way a jeweler inspects a gem before deciding if it’s worth setting. “It’s what’s required,” he says. “For the line. For the crown.”

Your chest tightens. You know the court’s whispers- how the marriage will be scrutinized until you produce an heir. You know the timeline they expect. You’d expected distance. You hadn’t expected to feel like an appointment.

He approaches slowly, rolling his cuffs to his forearms. When he stops in front of you, he doesn’t touch you right away- just stands there until the air between you grows heavy.

When he stops in front of you, he looks down at you with the same expression he wears in court- measured, guarded, cold.

“Stand up,” he says.

The command leaves no room for hesitation. You rise.

His hands land on your waist, not with affection but with control, guiding you closer. His mouth meets yours in a kiss that isn’t really a kiss- no give, no hunger, no softness. You press harder anyway, trying to spark something. He responds by gripping your jaw, holding you still.

“You’re trying too hard,” he murmurs.

“At least I’m trying,” you bite back.

A slow, humorless smile curves his lips. “Careful.”

He turns you with deliberate force until your knees meet the bed. You sit. He follows, untying your robe in one smooth pull. It falls to your sides, cool air grazing bare skin.

His gaze sweeps over you- assessing, not admiring. “Beautiful,” he says, tone flat. “But beauty doesn’t make you powerful.”

You swallow. “Then what does?”

His eyes lift to yours, sharp as steel. “Control. And you don’t have any here.”

The word sends a shiver down your spine- half fear, half something you don’t want to name.

He presses you back into the mattress with a firm hand to your shoulder, sliding the robe from your arms. His touch is skilled, confident, but there’s no tenderness. Every movement feels deliberate- designed to take without giving.

You arch into him once, testing him. His palm flattens against your sternum, holding you down.

“Do you think I’ll lose myself for you?” he asks softly, mockingly. “You can’t provoke me into wanting you.”

The words burn hotter than his hands.

When he finally takes you, it’s with the same efficiency as everything else he does- controlled, unhurried, purposeful. The sounds in the room are soft but sharp: the creak of the bed, your shallow breaths, the low rumble of his voice telling you to hold still.

His grip on your hips is firm, guiding you exactly how he wants. You try to match his rhythm, to pull him closer. He shifts his hold, pinning your wrists above your head against the mattress.

“Not yours to lead,” he says. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

It’s almost clinical. Almost mechanical. Your body reacts anyway- heat, breathlessness, the helpless ache for more. But you know he’s watching every flicker of your expression like a general studying an opponent’s next move.

When it’s over, he pulls away immediately. No lingering touch. No kiss. Just rises, adjusting his clothes with the same precision he undid them.

You’re still catching your breath when he looks at you one last time. “This is duty, Princess. Don’t confuse it with anything else.”

And then he’s gone.

The door shuts behind him.

You stay there, robe open, pulse still racing- not from closeness, but from the sting of his words.

═══════

The council chamber smells faintly of parchment, polished wood, and the faint metallic tang of ambition.

You sit in the gilded chair to Jungkook’s right, posture flawless, hands folded in your lap. It’s your first time attending a full royal council since the wedding. You’re here to listen. To be silent. To play the part of the well-bred consort.

At least, that’s what they expect.

The chamber doors close, and the discussion begins. Ministers rise, presenting their concerns: border tensions with the Western Kingdom, grain shortages in the southern provinces, a brewing dispute with the merchant guilds.

Your husband listens with that same infuriating calm, speaking only when necessary, voice even, deliberate. A king in training.

But when the Minister of Trade suggests raising tariffs on imported grain to “incentivize” local production, something twists in your chest.

“That would starve half the southern provinces,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

Every head in the room turns.

Jungkook’s gaze cuts to you. Sharp. Warning.

The Minister blinks, surprised. “Your Highness, the measure-”

“-would drive up prices so high,” you continue, “that families already struggling would have to choose between bread and rent. And if the people are hungry, unrest follows. That is not ‘incentive,’ Minister. That is negligence.”

Murmurs ripple through the chamber.

Jungkook’s voice is quiet but firm. “Princess-”

You turn your head slowly, meeting his eyes. “Am I mistaken?”

A pause. His jaw tightens.

“You are… uninformed,” he says at last.

You lean forward, resting your hands on the table. “Then perhaps inform me. Tell me how destabilizing our food supply will help secure your rule. Or ours.”

A faint gasp from one of the scribes. A few ministers look away, hiding smirks. The Minister of Trade fidgets.

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change, but you see the flicker in his eyes- anger, yes, but something else. Curiosity.

You look back at the table. “Instead of tariffs, subsidize local farmers to increase production. Buy excess grain directly from them at fair prices, then sell it cheaply in the provinces that need it most. The treasury loses nothing if the surplus is sold abroad. Everyone wins. The farmers, the provinces, the crown.”

The room goes still.

Then, slowly, the Minister of Agriculture nods. “It’s… a sound plan.”

More murmurs. Agreement.

Jungkook leans back in his chair, studying you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You can feel his gaze on your skin, hot and assessing.

“Very well,” he says finally. “We’ll consider the Princess’s… suggestion.”

It’s not an admission. Not in his tone.

But you’ve already won.

When the meeting ends, you rise before he does, smoothing your skirts. As you pass his chair, you feel his hand catch your wrist under the table.

You glance down at him.

His voice is low, for you alone. “We will discuss this later.”

You smile sweetly. “Of course, Your Highness.”

And you leave the chamber with your head high, the echo of your heels a victory drumbeat in the quiet hall. Yet, the moment the council doors close behind you, you know he’s following.

Your heels click against the marble corridor, echoing between the towering pillars. You don’t turn around, but you can feel him gaining on you- steady, purposeful, silent.

You make it halfway to your chambers before his hand closes around your wrist.

He pulls you into a side room- an antechamber lined with bookshelves and an unused writing desk- and shuts the door hard enough to rattle the hinges.

The air changes instantly.

He steps closer. Not close enough to touch, but enough that you can feel the weight of him, the way his presence seems to draw the oxygen from the room.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he says, voice low, razor-edged.

You arch a brow. “Speak?”

“Undermine me in front of my council.” His gaze is molten steel, locked on yours. “You embarrassed me.”

You take a deliberate step forward, closing some of the space between you. “I saved you from making a decision that would’ve turned half your kingdom against you.”

His jaw flexes. “That’s not your place.”

“And sitting there like a decorative vase is?” Your voice is calm, but each word lands sharp.

He moves closer, forcing you to back up until the edge of the desk presses against the back of your thighs. His hands plant on either side of you, caging you in without touching. “You don’t understand how dangerous it is to overstep in that room.”

You tilt your chin up. “I understand perfectly. They’ll eat you alive if they think you’re weak. And nothing says weakness like a wife too afraid to speak her mind.”

His eyes narrow. “You think you’re clever.”

“I know I am.”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing. His gaze drops briefly- not to your mouth, but to the stubborn lift of your chin- then returns to your eyes.

“You enjoy provoking me,” he says quietly.

“Only when you deserve it.”

One corner of his mouth twitches- not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. “Careful, Princess. If you make a habit of this, you might find I have… inventive ways of teaching obedience.”

You lean just slightly into the space between you, your voice a whisper. “And if you keep underestimating me, you might find I have inventive ways of winning.”

The tension between you is almost unbearable- not heat, not tenderness, just raw defiance meeting raw authority.

Finally, he pushes back, giving you space. “You’re not stupid,” he says. “But you are mine to manage.”

You smooth your skirts, stepping past him toward the door. “If you think I’ll be managed, Your Highness… you really haven’t been paying attention.”

You don’t wait for him to follow.

═══════

5 years earlier (jungkook’s pov): 

The gala had been suffocating.

Perfume and politics choked the air inside the ballroom. Every step, every word, every glance felt calculated. The music was loud enough to cover whispers but not loud enough to drown them out.

Jungkook slipped through a side door.

The night air hit him like a blessing- cool, crisp, tinged with the scent of rain. He loosened his collar and exhaled, letting the weight of the crown’s expectations roll off his shoulders, if only for a breath.

That’s when he saw her.

Jisoo.

She was standing at the edge of the balcony, moonlight touching the soft curve of her cheek. A pale silk gown flowed around her like water. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her lips moving faintly as she hummed something he didn’t recognize.

She turned when she heard him.

“Oh- Your Highness,” she said, voice light, careful. She curtsied, the movement graceful, unhurried. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be out here.”

“I needed air,” he admitted.

Her smile was small but knowing. “So did I.”

They stood there for a moment, the muffled music from the ballroom spilling through the open doors. He should have gone back inside. Instead, he found himself asking, “Do you come to many of these events?”

“More than I’d like.” Her gaze drifted toward the gardens below. “But my father says it’s important to be seen.”

The words were simple. Obvious, even. But the way she said them- steady, resigned, without bitterness-  struck him. She wasn’t like the others inside, scrambling for attention or advantage.

“I suppose he’s right,” he said.

She looked at him then, really looked, and for a second, he thought she might see past the prince to the man beneath. “You wear the pressure well.”

The compliment shouldn’t have mattered. It was the kind of thing royals said to each other all the time. But there was no jest in her tone, no false sweetness. It felt… clean.

Someone called her name from inside- a soft summons from a lady-in-waiting.

She dipped her head. “I should go.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Jungkook stayed on that balcony long after, the faint sound of her humming still in his ears.

It had been nothing- a polite exchange in the quiet. But in a life where every word was a weapon, her simplicity had felt like a shield.

Years later, he still told himself she was different.

He never noticed that he didn’t know a single thing more about her.

═══════

Two months change nothing… and everything.

The last time you and Jungkook stood together in the council chamber, you defied him in front of his ministers. He hasn’t forgotten. Neither have you.

The winter gala is your first appearance together since then.

The ballroom glitters under crystal chandeliers, every corner alive with silks, jewels, and the low hum of politics disguised as conversation. Gold light spills across polished marble, and the air is warm with the scent of champagne and candle wax.

You’ve chosen your gown carefully.

Silk the color of deep wine, cut low enough at the back to reveal the elegant dip of your spine, the fabric clinging to your curves before spilling loose in a daring slit high on your thigh. By court standards, it’s scandalous. By yours, it’s perfect.

You don’t tell Jungkook you’ve done it for him.

You tell yourself it’s for you.

The heads turn as soon as you enter on his arm. Ministers pause mid-sentence. Noblewomen whisper behind jeweled fans. Men look longer than they should. You feel the power in it- the way the room bends toward you.

Jungkook’s grip on your arm is tight enough to bruise.

“Enjoying yourself already?” you murmur, eyes fixed forward.

“You think this is clever?” His voice is low, dangerous. “Every man here staring at what’s mine?”

“Every man here staring at their future queen,” you correct softly.

He doesn’t reply, but you feel the tension radiating off him.

And then you see her.

Jisoo.

She stands near the far end of the room, surrounded by a small cluster of dignitaries. She’s dressed in soft silver, hair pinned in perfect curls, a picture of refined restraint. The kind of elegance that draws admiration without scandal.

She sees you. She smiles- polite, warm, and just a little too knowing. You smile back, the kind that could be taken for friendliness or challenge.

You make your rounds, greeting nobles, shaking hands, accepting compliments that dance on the edge of impropriety. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you even when he’s not beside you- especially when you laugh at another man’s joke, your fingers brushing his sleeve as you speak.

When you finally return to Jungkook’s side, his jaw is tight.

“Careful, Princess,” he says under his breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You sip your champagne, unbothered. “So are you.”

The orchestra swells, the floor clears for the next dance. He offers his hand, not out of romance, but because tradition demands it.

You place your hand in his and let him lead you into the spotlight.

Around you, the court watches. Some curious, some envious, some waiting for one of you to slip.

Under the chandeliers, his hand rests low on your back, almost possessive.

You wonder if he’s imagining Jisoo in your place. You wonder if it’s killing him that he can’t look away from you.

═══════

The ride back to the palace is silent.

Not the comfortable kind.

The kind that crackles with things unsaid.

You can feel him beside you in the carriage, his body still wound tight, his hand flexing once on his knee as though resisting the urge to act. He doesn’t look at you, but his gaze burns into the side of your face all the same.

When the carriage stops, he’s out first, striding through the palace doors without a word. You follow, heels clicking against marble. He doesn’t slow down until you’re inside your chambers.

The door shuts hard behind you.

“Do you enjoy humiliating me?” His voice is sharp, each word laced with steel.

You slip off your gloves one finger at a time. “Do you enjoy pretending you own me?”

He takes two steps forward, closing the space between you. “Everything you did tonight- the dress, the smiles, touching him-”

“-was diplomacy,” you cut in. “Something a ruler should understand.”

His eyes flash, and then he’s crowding you backward until your spine meets the wall. His hand presses against it beside your head, trapping you in place.

“You wanted my attention?” His voice drops lower, dangerous. “Now you have it.”

Your heart kicks hard, but you lift your chin. “And what will you do with it, Your Highness?”

His mouth crashes onto yours- not gentle, not tentative, but claiming. His other hand drags up your thigh, finding the slit in your gown and shoving the silk higher.

“Prove to you,” he murmurs against your lips, “that you can play with anyone else in the room… but you’ll still end up here.”

You bite his lower lip, pulling back just enough to smirk. “And if I’m not impressed?”

His grip tightens on your hip. “Then I’ll try harder.”

He turns you toward the bed in one swift movement, the skirt of your gown bunching in his fist. You go willingly, but when he pushes you down, you twist to look over your shoulder.

“Still just duty?” you taunt.

He freezes for a fraction of a second- then his hands are on you again, rougher now, dragging you back against the hard, unmistakable shape of his cock through his trousers. “Tonight? It’s a lesson.”

The dress comes off in a series of impatient tugs, pooling on the floor. His palms roam over your bare skin like he’s taking inventory, thumbs digging into your ass before parting you just enough to feel the heat of his breath between your legs. You shiver, but refuse to turn your face away.

His clothes follow- not rushed, but stripped with deliberate precision, every motion dripping with control. When he finally presses the heavy, hot length of him against your entrance, he holds there for a moment, letting you feel every inch before he pushes in.

The stretch is deep and sudden, making your breath catch, your nails digging into the sheets. He doesn’t give you time to adjust- his hips drive forward in hard, unrelenting strokes, the thick slide of him hitting deep enough to make you gasp every time. His hands lock your hips in place, forcing you to take him exactly how he wants, his pace a brutal, steady rhythm meant to grind down your defiance.

But you meet every thrust, rocking back against him with just as much force, your slick making every connection filthy and loud.

“Say you belong to me,” he orders, voice ragged.

You shake your head, breathless but smiling even as pleasure twists low in your belly. “No.”

His mouth is at your ear in the next breath, teeth grazing the shell before his words pour over you like molten heat. “You will.”

You push back harder, grinding until the head of his cock drags against that sweet, swollen spot inside you. A moan slips free- you swallow it down before it can give him satisfaction. “Or you’ll learn I don’t belong to anyone.”

The challenge hangs between you, thick as the sweat on your skin. Neither of you slow down, each thrust sharper, wetter, more desperate. The slap of skin fills the room, your breaths tangled with curses and broken sounds you’d never admit to making.

You’re so close you can feel it buzzing in your bones but you hold it back out of spite, out of sheer will. His fingers slip down between your thighs, finding your clit and circling hard until your resolve cracks and your body shudders around him.

He follows with a deep, savage thrust, spilling into you with a low groan, hips grinding through the aftershocks like he’s branding you from the inside.

When it ends, you’re both breathless, flushed, staring at each other across the tangle of sheets.

He doesn’t kiss you. You don’t ask him to.

“You’re exhausting,” he says finally.

“You’re obsessed,” you reply.

And you both know you’re right.

═══════

Two weeks have passed since that night.

The night where anger blurred with want, where neither of you surrendered but both of you took.

Since then, you’ve spoken little. Polite exchanges in public, calculated silences in private.

The world sees perfection. You see the cracks.

This morning, the palace gardens are alive with late winter sunlight. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of blooming camellias and damp earth. You’ve always preferred this part of the palace- away from the council chambers, away from the eyes of the court.

Your ladies follow at a respectful distance as you take the marble path toward the upper terrace. The view from there sweeps over the river, the towers, and the city beyond- a reminder of everything that belongs to the crown, if not to you.

You’re halfway up the wide steps when your heel catches on the edge of your gown.

The world tilts.

Your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp as your foot slides on the slick marble. You stumble forward, ankle twisting hard. The pain shoots up your leg before your knees hit the ground.

And then- 

Strong hands catch you before you collapse completely.

The scent of warm spice and leather floods your senses.

“Y/N.” His voice is low, urgent.

You blink up into Jungkook’s face. For once, his expression isn’t composed. His eyes are wide, scanning you for injury.

“My ankle,” you breathe, wincing as the weight shifts.

Without hesitation, he bends and sweeps you into his arms. The motion startles you, your hands gripping his shoulders instinctively.

“Put me down,” you protest.

“Not a chance,” he says, his tone sharp but not cold. It’s threaded with something you’ve never heard from him before. Fear.

He carries you to a shaded bench, lowering you carefully. His fingers are warm and gentle as they press around the swelling ankle, his jaw tight.

“You’ll be off it for a day at least,” he says.

“It’s just a twist-”

“You’ll rest,” he interrupts, brooking no argument. “I’ll have a physician sent immediately.”

You tilt your head. “Are you… worried?”

His eyes meet yours. For a heartbeat, he doesn’t answer. “You are my wife,” he says finally, voice softer than you expect. “What happens to you matters.”

“You’ll stay in your chambers today. I’ll make the arrangements.”

And before you can protest, he bends again, one arm hooking under your knees, the other around your back, lifting you as if you weigh nothing.

“Jungkook-”

“Save your breath,” he says, eyes fixed forward. “You’re not walking on it.”

The world tilts in a different way now, the solid heat of him under you, the steady rhythm of his steps carrying you through the garden paths. Court attendants bow as he passes, some openly staring, but he doesn’t slow.

He carries you up the palace steps, down the corridors, and straight into your chambers-  only setting you down on the bed once you’re surrounded by the familiar silk and shadow.

His hands linger for a heartbeat longer than necessary before he steps back. “Rest.”

Then the mask is back, and he’s gone.

═══════

The physician leaves just before noon.

“It’s only a mild sprain,” he’d said, binding your ankle with clean linen and instructing you to stay off it for a day or two. “Nothing serious, Your Highness. As long as you rest.”

You’re propped against a fortress of pillows in your bed, silk sheets spilling over your legs, a cup of cooling tea at your side. The room is too still, too quiet. You’ve never been good at sitting still.

Your ladies-in-waiting keep offering to read to you or bring fresh flowers, but you send them away after the fourth polite interruption. It’s not their fault you feel caged. The crown fits heavy enough without being confined to your chambers.

You’re staring at the gilded canopy when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call.

Jungkook steps inside.

You blink. “I thought you had meetings all afternoon.”

“I do,” he says, but he doesn’t leave. He crosses the room, the sound of his boots muffled against the carpet. “I wanted to see if you were following orders.”

“Orders?” you repeat, arching a brow. “I didn’t realize marriage came with a chain of command.”

His gaze flicks to your bandaged ankle. “You’re still in bed. That’s a start.”

You expect him to leave after that, but instead, he moves toward the table and pours you fresh tea, setting the cup within reach. You catch the faintest furrow between his brows, the one that appears when he’s thinking too much.

“You didn’t have to-”

“It was closer to me than to you,” he cuts in.

“Right,” you murmur, hiding a small smile behind the rim of your cup.

He stands there a moment longer, as if debating something. “If you need anything-”

“I’ll send for a guard?” you finish for him, teasing.

His eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no heat in it. “Exactly.”

He turns to go, and something in you flares- curiosity, stubbornness, maybe both. “Jungkook.”

He pauses at the door.

“You caught me before I fell,” you say. “Why?”

For a heartbeat, his eyes meet yours. “Because you’re mine to protect.”

Then the door shuts behind him.

You’re left staring at it, unsure whether his words were a claim, a duty… or something else entirely.

═══════

By morning, the dull ache in your ankle has faded to something tolerable. Not gone- but not enough to keep you trapped in bed.

You dress yourself in a pale blue day gown, something soft and unassuming, and braid your hair back in a way that says I am perfectly fine, thank you. Your ladies-in-waiting hover nervously as you make your way to the sitting room.

“Your Highness,” one begins gently, “perhaps you should-”

“I’ve rested long enough,” you say, taking the first careful step toward the door. “There are things I need to see to.”

They exchange looks but say nothing.

The moment you open the door, you nearly collide with him.

Jungkook stands there, dressed in deep charcoal, the morning light catching on the silver clasp at his cloak. His gaze drops immediately to your feet, to the subtle limp you try- and fail- to hide.

“Where are you going?” His tone is calm, but there’s a weight to it.

“For a walk,” you say. “It’s a palace, not a prison.”

His jaw flexes. “Not without me.”

You fold your arms. “You’re busy. I can manage.”

He steps past you into the room, closing the door behind him. “You can barely walk without favoring that ankle.”

“I can walk,” you counter. “And I intend to.”

Something flickers in his eyes- not anger, not quite- before he exhales sharply. “Then I’ll escort you.”

It’s not a request.

You consider arguing, but there’s something in his stance, in the set of his shoulders, that tells you it will only waste time. So instead, you smile- sweet, false. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

He offers his arm. You take it, because refusing would feel like losing, and you refuse to lose to him in anything.

The walk is slow, deliberate. The gardens are busy with attendants pruning roses and sweeping paths. You can feel the eyes on you- the court always watches. Jungkook’s hand stays steady under yours, guiding you away from uneven ground, adjusting his pace without comment when you falter.

It’s infuriating how natural it feels.

When you reach the far end of the garden, you stop beside the fountain, pretending to admire the lilies floating on the surface.

“See?” you say. “Perfectly capable.”

He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re stubborn.”

“And you’re controlling,” you reply. “Somehow, we make it work.”

For a moment, it almost feels like truce.

Almost.

Then he says, “Next time, I’ll carry you from the start.”

And before you can respond, he turns and starts back toward the palace, leaving you to follow with the faintest, most infuriating smile tugging at your lips.

═══════

The royal conservatory smells faintly of jasmine and politics.

Today’s luncheon is meant to honor a visiting trade delegation, but as always, it’s also a performance- a showcase of unity between the prince and his consort. You sit at Jungkook’s right, posture perfect, hands folded loosely in your lap.

The conversation drifts from tariffs to art to upcoming festivals. You answer politely when addressed, keeping your smile fixed in place.

Until Lord Jimin speaks.

He’s old money, old power, and old enough to think his opinion is law. Leaning back in his chair with a practiced smile, he says, “It’s lovely to see you out and about again, Your Highness. I’d heard you’d been… recovering from a fall? I suppose marble steps can be dangerous… for those unused to palace life.”

A polite ripple of laughter travels the table. The words are coated in courtesy, but the meaning is sharp- a reminder you’re an outsider, unaccustomed, and perhaps unfit.

You meet his gaze without flinching. “It’s true. I fell. Luckily, my husband was there to catch me.”

“Yes,” Jimin says smoothly, “though I imagine His Highness has far more pressing matters than tending to scraped ankles. Affairs of state require… sturdier footing.”

It’s a dig. Gentle enough to pass as banter, but you hear the insinuation beneath it: fragile, ornamental, a burden.

You’re ready to respond, but Jungkook speaks first.

“Lord Jimin,” he says, voice even but edged with steel, “you mistake grace for weakness.” The table quiets instantly. “The Princess has already proven herself in council and in matters of policy. She is not a burden. She is my partner.”

Jimin blinks, caught off guard.

“And,” Jungkook continues, his gaze locking with the older lord’s, “if I ever hear you suggest otherwise again- even in jest- I will ensure you regret it.”

A ripple of stunned silence follows. Somewhere down the table, a glass is set down a little too quickly.

Jimin forces a smile. “Of course, Your Highness. I meant no offense.”

“Then perhaps,” Jungkook says, his tone softening but not losing its weight, “you should choose your words more carefully.”

The conversation resumes, but the balance at the table has shifted.

You glance at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable, his focus already on the next course being served.

But under the table, you let your fingers brush his hand- not a thank-you, exactly, but an acknowledgment.

He doesn’t pull away.

The luncheon ends in a blur of polite farewells and murmured congratulations. You don’t remember half the names of the people you shook hands with- not because they weren’t important, but because you could feel Jungkook beside you.

Not just beside you. With you.

Every time you replay his words- “She is my partner”- your pulse stirs a little faster.

The doors close behind the last of the guests. Servants move to collect the empty glasses, but Jungkook’s voice stops them.

“Leave us.”

The room empties quickly. You’re still standing by the long banquet table when he crosses to you, his steps unhurried, but his gaze locked on yours like he’s already made a decision.

“You enjoyed that,” you murmur, chin lifting.

“What?” he says, stopping just close enough that you feel the warmth of him.

“Defending me.” You allow a slow smile. “Making it clear I’m yours.”

His hand is at your waist before you can react, pulling you flush against him. “You are mine.”

The words aren’t cold this time. They’re hot. Dangerous.

You open your mouth to retort, but his lips crash onto yours- not claiming like before, but taking, deep and insistent, like he’s been holding it back all afternoon. His tongue pushes past your lips, tasting you, coaxing a soft sound from the back of your throat.

Your fingers curl into his jacket, dragging him closer. The kiss breaks just long enough for him to murmur, voice rough, “Tell me to stop.”

You don’t.

He lifts you onto the table in one motion, your skirts spilling over polished wood. His mouth moves to your neck, your jaw, his teeth scraping lightly before his hands shove fabric higher and higher, until your thighs are bare.

“This isn’t about duty,” you breathe, half dazed.

He pushes you back so you’re lying on the table, bunching your dress up, and then he drops to his knees between your legs. Your breath catches. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you open. 

“No,” he agrees, his voice low, almost dangerous. “This is about you.”

And then his mouth is on you- a slow, deliberate lick over your slit that makes you jolt.

He doesn’t give you time to think before his mouth is on you- hot, wet, and devastatingly slow. His tongue slides from your entrance to your clit in one unhurried stroke, making you jolt.

His hands grip your thighs like steel, keeping you open while his tongue circles lazily, deliberately avoiding giving you enough pressure to push you over. He pulls back just enough to blow a warm breath over you, watching the way you shiver.

“Already wet,” he murmurs, smirking before diving in again, licking you like he’s savoring every drop. He alternates between slow, languid strokes and fast, focused flicks over your clit until your hips are rocking into his face.

You try to pull him closer, but he shakes his head against you, forcing you to take his pace. “You’ll come when I say,” he growls, before sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. The sound that tears from your throat is half-moan, half-curse.

He doesn’t stop. His tongue fucks into you, wet and insistent, before returning to your clit. The obscene sounds of his mouth on you fill the room, mingling with your ragged breathing. You’re panting now, thighs trembling against his grip, every muscle wound tight.

When your climax finally breaks, it’s sharp and shuddering, your back arching off the table. He holds you there, riding out every wave, his mouth never leaving you until you whimper from oversensitivity.

Only then does he rise, mouth slick, eyes dark. He leans over you, his cock already pressing against your thigh. “You don’t get to keep pretending after this,” you whisper, still catching your breath.

His hips still for a second, gaze locked on yours. Then he leans to your ear. “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

He frees himself and pushes into you in one deep, steady thrust, the thick stretch forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. The aftershocks of your orgasm make every inch of him feel amplified, your walls fluttering around him as he bottoms out.

He doesn’t give you time to settle- his hips draw back slow, almost teasing, before slamming forward again, the table groaning under the force. The rhythm he finds is hard and sure, each thrust hitting deep enough to make your breath hitch. His hands grip your hips, dragging you into every snap of his body, the sound of skin meeting skin sharp in the quiet room.

You cling to him, nails digging into the back of his jacket as he fucks you like he’s trying to brand himself into your muscles. The slick slide between you is filthy, your wetness coating him, making each thrust faster, harder.

When his mouth finds yours again, the kiss is desperate-  teeth, tongue, shared breath- his pace never faltering. He swallows your moans, dragging them out until they’re rough, uncontrolled sounds you swore you wouldn’t make for him.

Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, angling him deeper, and he growls low in his chest, the sound vibrating against your mouth. His hand slips between you, thumb finding your clit and circling just hard enough to make your vision blur.

“Come for me,” he orders, voice ragged. You do- helplessly- your body clenching around him as the climax rips through you. He groans, hips driving deep one last time before he spills inside you, grinding through the aftershocks until you’re both shaking.

For a moment, the only sound is your mingled breathing.

When it’s over, he stays inside you just long enough to make you feel the weight of it- then pulls out, tucking himself back in with slow precision. He adjusts his jacket, then reaches down, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You should eat dinner in your chambers tonight,” he says.

It sounds like an order. It feels like care.

═══════

It’s only been a few days since the luncheon- and what happened after- but already, the edges between you and Jungkook are back to cutting.

The council chamber is thick with debate. A dispute over land rights has ministers talking over one another, and you’ve had enough. You speak up, cutting through the noise with a solution that’s both strategic and bold.

The room goes quiet. Even the scribe pauses his pen.

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change, but you catch the way his knuckles tap the table once- a subtle warning meant for you.

When the meeting adjourns, you rise with the others, smoothing your skirts. You expect him to walk beside you. Instead, he barely glances your way.

“You enjoy taking command in front of my council,” he says as you step into the corridor. His tone is light enough that an outsider wouldn’t catch the bite beneath it.

“They were wasting time,” you reply evenly. “I offered a solution.”

“You offered my solution,” he says, eyes forward. “Before I could give it.”

“That’s not my fault,” you counter, but he’s already striding ahead.

By the time you reach the great hall, he’s gone. No explanation. No dismissal. Just gone.

You wander the palace to cool your temper, your steps echoing in the quiet corridors. You’ve never cared much for the east wing- it’s quieter, more private- but today, you find yourself there.

A door at the end of the hall stands slightly ajar.

Jungkook’s office.

You hesitate, but curiosity wins.

Inside, the space is meticulously ordered- shelves lined with ledgers, a polished desk, the faint scent of ink and parchment in the air. You trail your fingers along the edge of the desk, noticing the papers stacked with military precision.

And then, near the bottom of one stack, you see it.

An envelope. Unsealed. Your name isn’t on it and the handwriting is Jungkook’s.

The date at the top freezes your breath in your chest- the day after your wedding.

You shouldn’t read it. You know that. But your fingers are already sliding the page free.

The first word you see is her. 

Jisoo.

Your stomach twists.

You look toward the door- still closed- then back at the page, your pulse loud in your ears.

You sink into his chair, the letter trembling slightly in your hands.

Whatever’s written here, you already know it’s going to hurt.

═══════

My dearest Jisoo,

I should not be writing to you. Every reason I have been given tells me to let go- to accept the reality they have bound me to. But it is not reality I am living in. It is a sentence.

Yesterday, I stood at the altar with your sister. I said the vows. I placed the ring on her finger. I lifted her veil. And the entire time, all I could think was how wrong it was that it was her standing there, and not you.

You should have been my bride. You should have worn the crown beside me.

But politics is a crueler ruler than either of us. You know as well as I do that your father would never have allowed it- not with the trade agreement your marriage prospects could secure for your kingdom.

You were promised long before I had the right to ask.

Lord Dae-Hyun’s second son was a match your father could not afford to lose, and once your name was spoken, it could not be withdrawn. By the time I realized, you were already gone- sealed off by duty, unreachable by even my title.

They told me it was impossible. That I had to take the match offered. That she was the only way to solidify the alliance.

As though I should be grateful.

I am not.

Y/N is… restless. Too quick to speak, too unwilling to simply be still. She moves like she’s waiting for a fight that no one has offered her, and perhaps that is the part I resent most- her constant need to be seen, to be heard. Even in these first hours as husband and wife, she seems determined to prove something, though I cannot imagine what it is, or to whom.

She will make noise, I am sure, and perhaps even cause enough distraction to make the ministers believe she is worth the trouble.

But she is not you.

She does not have your grace. Your steadiness. The way you can command a room without raising your voice.

When I look at her, I see only the shadow of what could have been. And it is unbearable to wake each day beside the wrong sister, knowing the one I wanted most is still within reach, yet impossibly far.

I do not expect you to answer this. Perhaps you will not even read it. But I needed you to know that, in every way that matters, I am still yours.

I will always be yours.

- Jungkook

═══════

You don’t remember standing.

One moment, you’re staring at the ink-  the words curling across the page like they were meant to strangle you- and the next, you’re shoving the letter back into the envelope with shaking hands.

Your legs move without thought, carrying you out of his office and through the palace corridors. You don’t care if anyone sees you. You just need to be away from there. Away from him.

By the time you reach your chambers, your breath is uneven, your vision swimming. The ladies-in-waiting rush to greet you, offering tea, asking if you’d like to change before dinner.

“Leave,” you say, your voice tight.

They freeze. “Your Highness-”

“Please,” you add, softer this time, but your voice cracks around the word. “I need to be alone.”

They bow and file out, glancing back as though worried to leave you like this. The door shuts.

The silence is crushing.

You press your back against it for a moment before sliding down to the floor. The sob breaks free before you can stop it-  raw, shattering, the kind that leaves you gasping.

You push yourself up and stagger to the bed, sinking into the mattress as if the weight of the letter is still pressing down on you. The tears come harder now, unstoppable. You press your hands over your mouth to muffle the sounds, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no one left to hear.

Every word replays in your mind- restless, wrong sister, always be yours. Each one cuts deeper, tearing through every fragile thread of dignity you’ve tried to hold together since the wedding.

Hours pass. The light outside dims to gold, then gray, then nothing. You don’t move. Dinner comes and goes. You don’t send for food. You don’t light the lamps. The only glow in the room is the faint spill of moonlight across the floor.

The knock at the door comes late. Before you can answer, it opens.

Jungkook steps inside, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “You weren’t at dinner.”

You don’t reply.

His gaze shifts to your face- the flushed skin, the reddened eyes, the damp lashes. His body stills.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

You just stare at him, the letter’s words burning between you like a secret only you know.

You don’t remember standing, but you’re on your feet when he steps closer.

“What happened?” he asks again.

Your fingers curl into fists at your sides. “If my father let you marry her right now,” you say, your voice shaking, “would I still be here?”

His brows draw together. “What are you talking about?”

“Answer me!” Your voice rises, breaking against the walls. “Would I still be here, Jungkook?”

His eyes narrow. “You went through my things.”

“You wrote it!” you shout, the tears burning hot again. “You wrote it the day after our wedding! You said you wished it was her. You said I was the wrong sister. You said you’d always be hers.”

His jaw tightens, but his voice stays level- too level. “And what if I did? It was the truth.”

Your breath catches.

“I married you for politics,” he says, each word deliberate, cold. “Not for love. And yes, everything in that letter is true.”

It feels like the floor drops out from under you.

You take a step back, but he follows, his voice sharper now. “You think snooping through my office will make you more than what you are? It doesn’t. You were a convenience, Y/N. Nothing more.”

The sob rips from your throat before you can stop it. “You’re cruel.”

“And you’re naive,” he snaps. “If you thought this marriage was anything else, that’s on you.”

It’s the final blow- not just the words, but the way he says them, like they’re facts, not daggers.

Your vision blurs. You turn away before he can see the collapse happening inside you. “I’m going home.”

“You can’t just-”

But you’re already moving, shoving past him, through the door, and down the corridor.

Within the hour, you’re in the stables, your guards scrambling to follow orders they didn’t expect. The palace fades behind you as the carriage rattles toward your father’s kingdom.

You don’t look back.

If you did, you might see the shadow in the window- a figure watching you leave, unmoving until you vanish from sight.

═══════

jungkook’s pov: 

The door slammed behind her hours ago. And yet, the echo of her voice still lingers.

Jungkook sits at his desk, the untouched glass of brandy in front of him reflecting the moonlight. He’d been furious when she confronted him- furious she’d been in his office, furious she’d read the letter. But fury fades fast when it’s replaced by the memory of her face, wet with tears, breaking in front of him.

Six months.

They’ve been married six months. Long enough for him to know the sound of her laughter when she’s not guarding it, the precise way her brow furrows when she’s deciding whether to speak her mind, the warmth in her voice when she’s talking to anyone who isn’t him.

And long enough for him to notice her- truly notice her. The way she moves, carries herself, commands attention without even trying. The way her beauty isn’t something the court dresses gave her, but something she wears like armor.

He’d told himself from the start that she was a political necessity, nothing more. The letter he’d written to Jisoo had been the truth back then or at least the truth he’d chosen to believe. But now?

Now he remembers the garden. How light she’d felt in his arms when he carried her back to her chambers. How she hadn’t flinched when Lord Jimin made his sly dig, but met it with a smile that made Jungkook want to break the man’s teeth.

The way her hand had brushed his under the table after he defended her. The faint smile she tried to hide.

And after everyone left , the way she’d come apart under his hands. How the urgency between them had been more than anger, more than duty. The taste of her still lingers on his tongue, the sound of her voice when she moaned his name still carved into his memory. It hadn’t been detached, like before- not when he was buried inside her, not when his mouth was on her, not when her nails clawed at his shoulders like she was trying to hold him there forever. He’d been closer to her in that hour than in the entire six months of their marriage.

God, he’d said she was a convenience. Nothing more.

The lie tastes bitter.

He pushes back from the desk and stands abruptly, the chair scraping the floor. His coat is on in seconds, boots echoing against the stone floors as he makes for the stables.

It doesn’t matter that it’s past midnight. It doesn’t matter that the journey to her father’s kingdom will take hours.

He has to see her.

Not as a prince, not as a husband fulfilling some duty- but as a man who knows he’s made a mistake.

The groomsman barely has time to saddle his horse before Jungkook swings into the saddle. The cold night air bites at his skin, but it’s nothing compared to the emptiness in the palace without her.

He rides hard.

He’s going to bring her home.

═══════

The warmth of your father’s manor is different from the one you left.

Here, the air doesn’t feel like it’s pressing down on you. The corridors smell faintly of cedar and fresh bread instead of cold stone. You can breathe without worrying about who’s watching.

For the first time in months, you let yourself sit without the weight of the crown. Wrapped in a thick blanket in your father’s private sitting room, you sip tea, listening to the muted hum of distant conversation.

You’re not healed. You know that. But for now, you’re home.

The knock on the front doors comes just as you set your cup down. Footsteps cross the marble foyer, and then- a voice you never thought you’d hear here.

“Is she here?”

Your blood runs cold.

Jisoo’s voice answers, careful but unmistakably surprised. “Jungkook.”

You freeze, every muscle locking in place.

“I need to see her,” he says- no hesitation, no preamble.

Before you can even decide whether to stand or run, he’s inside. His eyes find you across the room in an instant. And then he’s moving- past Jisoo, past the threshold, crossing the space between you like nothing else exists. He’s in front of you before you can even get to your feet.

Jungkook drops to his knees, the movement sharp and sudden, his hands coming up to cradle your face like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. His eyes search yours- not for anger, not for forgiveness, but for proof you’re real.

“Y/N-”

You shove his hands away, the blanket slipping from your shoulders. “Don’t.”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. Then Jisoo, sensing the air between you, murmurs something to your father and slips from the room. The door shuts behind them, leaving only the two of you.

Your voice is low, but cutting. “You don’t get to come here, after what you said, and pretend it never happened.”

He doesn’t argue. He just looks at you- truly looks- as though you’ve hung the stars and he’s only just realizing it.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For all of it. For the letter. For what I said after. For every time I made you feel unwanted.”

You fold your arms, holding your ground.

“I didn’t know I was falling for you,” he continues, “until it was already happening.”

You scoff. “Falling for me?”

“The winter gala,” he says, and you can hear the truth in his voice. “You walked into that room and the whole court bent toward you, even when I was furious. The garden- when you fell, I’ve never been that afraid in my life. Your wit, the way you see through people at council. The luncheon- the way you touched my hand under the table like you knew exactly what it meant. And after… when we were together, it wasn’t just anger or duty anymore. For the first time, I felt like I was with you, not just my wife.”

He swallows hard. “And the quieter things. Dinners where you laughed with the servants and made them forget you were royalty. The way you read late at night, biting your lip when you turn the page. The way you hum when you think no one’s listening.”

Your breath catches, but you mask it with a shake of your head. “Words are easy, Jungkook. You’ve had six months to show me I matter and you didn’t. Why should I believe you now?”

His jaw tightens. “Because I’m standing here, asking you to come home.”

You meet his gaze, steady and unflinching. “No. Not until you prove it.”

The silence that follows is heavy, but you don’t look away. For the first time since you’ve known him, he nods- not in dismissal, but in acceptance.

“I will.”

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

The court is already buzzing when Jungkook walks into the great hall. Ministers in rich silks murmur over parchment, their jeweled rings catching the light. They fall silent when they see what he’s carrying.

An envelope. Old. Unsealed.

He walks to the center of the room, past the council table, past the throne. The letter-the one he wrote to Jisoo six months ago-  feels like it weighs more than steel in his hand.

Without preamble, he sets it atop the silver brazier meant for burning old decrees.

“This letter,” he says, his voice carrying easily in the vaulted hall, “is a lie I let live too long.”

The ministers glance at one another.

He strikes a match and drops it onto the parchment. Flame curls the edges, swallowing the words, until nothing remains but black ash.

“I have one queen,” he continues. “Not simply a wife to fulfill politics, not a placeholder for another. Y/N is my queen- in title, in duty, and in my heart.”

Murmurs ripple through the chamber.

“She is the woman who has stood beside me when I gave her no reason to. Who has shown strength where others expected silence. Who has matched me in wit, in will, and in fire.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “And I love her.”

The last of the letter collapses into ash.

He turns to the royal scribe. “Send word to her father’s court. Let it be known across both kingdoms.”

═══════

The day is uneventful until the envoy arrives.

The royal messenger steps into your father’s receiving room, his cloak still dusted with travel, the sealed scroll in his hand gleaming with Jungkook’s crest.

“For Her Highness, the Princess Consort,” he says, bowing as he offers it.

Your father watches you break the seal.

The parchment is brief but formal- the kind of statement meant to be read in public squares and whispered over in taverns:

A letter burned. Your name spoken in the great hall. You, named not only wife, but queen. And the final line, in Jungkook’s unmistakable hand: I love you.

Your fingers tighten on the parchment. You can hear the pounding of your own heart.

“Seems he’s made his choice,” your father says quietly.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not yet.

You’re still staring at the proclamation when Jisoo slips into your room.

“So… he burned it?” she says, perching lightly on the edge of your bed.

You nod, the parchment still in your lap. “In front of everyone. Declared me his queen. Said he loves me.”

Jisoo studies your face. “And you don’t believe him?”

“I want to,” you admit, your voice low. “But wanting to and trusting are two different things.”

Jisoo’s expression softens. “You’ve always been braver than you think, Y/N. Go see him. Make him prove it in person.”

The next day, you do.

The journey back to his kingdom feels shorter this time, though your heart is heavier with each mile.

When the carriage pulls into the palace courtyard, you expect the usual line of attendants and guards. You don’t expect him- standing at the base of the steps, dressed simply, holding a bouquet of deep red roses.

The door opens, and the early Spring air rushes in.

He looks up at you, something unguarded in his eyes. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

You step down from the carriage, the scent of the roses reaching you before his hands do.

For a moment, neither of you moves. Then he offers them to you. You take the roses, the petals velvety against your fingers.

“They’re beautiful,” you say, your voice careful.

“They’re not enough,” Jungkook replies.

You blink up at him. “Then why give them to me?”

“Because I needed something in my hands when I saw you,” he admits. “Otherwise I might not have been able to keep from-” He stops himself, his jaw flexing. “-from saying too much, too soon.”

The words catch you off guard.

An attendant moves to take your luggage, but Jungkook waves them off. “I’ll walk her.”

You glance at him, then at the long climb up the palace steps. “You don’t usually play porter.”

“I don’t usually try to win back my wife,” he says, matter-of-fact.

Inside, the corridors are quieter than usual. He walks beside you, matching your pace, and doesn’t speak again until you reach your chambers.

“I know words won’t be enough,” he says, stopping at the threshold. “So I’ll show you.”

“How?” you ask, wary but curious.

“By being the man you deserve,” he answers without hesitation. “By giving you reason to believe me every day, not just when it’s convenient for me. By making sure you never have to doubt you are my queen- in every way that matters.”

You search his face, looking for cracks in the resolve. But his gaze holds steady.

“Then start proving it,” you say finally, stepping into the room.

Before the door closes, you hear him say softly, “I already am.”

═══════

The council chamber feels different this morning.

The air isn’t thick with the weight of being tolerated- it hums with the quiet acknowledgment of your place at the table. The ministers rise when you enter, bowing not out of obligation, but something closer to respect.

Jungkook takes his seat at the head of the table. You take yours at his right but for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re in his shadow.

A dispute over the naval fleet’s funding takes center stage. Two ministers argue over whether to cut costs or invest in new shipbuilding.

You listen. And when their voices climb over each other, you speak.

“Cutting costs now will cost us more later,” you say, your tone firm but measured. “If we invest in the fleet, we secure our trade routes. That’s more revenue in the long term- and more security for our allies.”

All eyes shift to you.

One minister hesitates. “But, Your Highness-”

“She’s right,” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, his gaze steady on you. “The Princess’s proposal is sound. It will be implemented.”

You allow yourself a small smile, meeting his eyes.

The discussion moves on, but the shift lingers- ministers asking for your opinion, valuing it, weighing it as they would his. And each time you speak, Jungkook listens. Not with the detached patience of before, but with intent, his attention fixed on you as though no other voice in the room matters.

By the end of the session, the room feels different again. Not because you’ve changed, but because they’ve started to see you as you’ve always been.

A queen in the room.

═══════

The council chamber has long since emptied, but the weight of the day lingers in your shoulders.

You find him in his office, the golden light of late afternoon spilling over the maps and scrolls spread across his desk. He looks up when you enter, his expression softening almost imperceptibly.

“You were remarkable today,” Jungkook says, leaning back in his chair. “The fleet’s commanders will be sending you wine for that decision.”

You smile faintly but don’t sit. Instead, you step closer, your skirts whispering over the polished floor. “I need to ask you something.”

His gaze sharpens. “Anything.”

You stop a few feet from him, folding your hands in front of you. “What do you see in me,” you ask slowly, “that you never saw in Jisoo?”

The room stills.

He blinks once, as if he’s not sure he heard you right. “Why are you asking me that now?”

“Because,” you say, keeping your voice even, “you’ve told me you love me. You’ve burned your letter. You’ve defended me in court. But there’s still a part of me that wonders if you love me for me, or because I became what you needed.”

He rises from the chair, closing the distance until he’s standing right in front of you. “You think I’d confuse the two?”

“I think,” you answer, meeting his eyes, “that I deserve to know the difference.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The only sound is the quiet ticking of the clock on the mantle, marking each second between you.

And then he nods once- slow, deliberate. “Alright. I’ll tell you.”

He doesn’t look away when he speaks.

“When I thought of Jisoo,” Jungkook begins, “I saw… calm. The kind of quiet the court praises. She was gentle, and she fit the image of a queen in everyone’s mind, including mine. But it was a dream I built out of fragments. I didn’t know her. I had a single conversation with her.”

He takes another step closer. “And when I married you… I told myself it was only politics. But then the reality of you started undoing me.”

Your breath catches, but you don’t interrupt.

“The winter gala,” he says softly. “You walked in wearing that wine-red gown, and the entire court turned toward you- not because of your title, but because you owned the room. And I hated how much I noticed. The garden, when you fell-  I’ve been in battles where men were dying around me, and I wasn’t as scared as I was in that moment.”

His voice lowers. “Your wit in council. The way you don’t back down, even when I’ve given you every reason to. That day you outmaneuvered Lord Jimin with a single look and a sharper tongue- I wanted to kiss you in front of everyone.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding.

“And the luncheon,” he continues. “When you touched my hand under the table, I thought it was nothing. But afterwards… when I had you in my arms, when you let me in completely- it wasn’t anger, or duty, or proving a point. It was you. Just you. And I realized I’d never had that with anyone before.”

He exhales slowly. “You don’t just fit the image of a queen. You are one. And I see you, Y/N- not the crown, not the alliance, not my title beside yours. Just you. And I love what I see.”

He runs a hand through his hair, almost like he’s searching for the right words. “I think I was in love with you before I even understood it. Before I let myself admit it. Every time you challenged me, every time you made me see the world differently, it was another thread pulling me toward you. And now… now I can’t imagine a world where you’re not mine.”

The silence between you is different now- not the sharp-edged kind that’s filled your marriage, but something warmer. Something that pulls you toward him instead of pushing you away.

When he reaches for you, it’s not rushed. His hands frame your face gently, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. His kiss is unhurried, deep, and you taste the truth of everything he’s just said in the way his mouth moves against yours.

You let him guide you back toward the bed, but this time there’s no battle for control- only the steady pull of his hands and the unspoken promise in his touch. Every glance, every brush of his fingers is a question, and you answer without hesitation, giving him all of you.

When his lips trail down your throat, you feel the weight of his love in the way he lingers, his mouth pressing gentle kisses, his nose brushing your skin like he’s breathing you in.

Clothing falls away slowly- not torn, but removed like it’s precious. He studies every inch of revealed skin with eyes that are soft and heavy with want, his hands tracing you as though he’s committing each curve to memory.

He eases you back onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs, and lowers himself until his breath ghosts over your core. The first kiss he presses there is slow, deliberate, making you gasp. “You’re so beautiful here,” he murmurs, before his tongue drags through your folds.

The first wave comes quickly- his mouth seals over your clit, tongue flicking just right while two fingers slide inside you, curling until you’re gasping his name. He hums, the sound sending shivers through you as you clench around him, hips rocking helplessly.

He doesn’t let you come down. His mouth never leaves you, his fingers easing out only to be replaced by the wet slide of his tongue dipping inside you, tasting everything you give him. You whimper, overstimulated already, but his hands pin your hips to the mattress, holding you there until the second orgasm crashes over you- sharper this time, your thighs trembling around his head.

When you sag against the bed, panting, he kisses your inner thigh, his voice low and reverent. “One more for me, love.”

You can barely shake your head before his mouth is back on your clit, slower this time, coaxing instead of demanding. His fingers return, pumping deep and steady while his tongue traces lazy circles. The build is excruciatingly tender, your body tightening until you spill over again, crying out and clinging to him like you might drown without him.

Only then does he finally come up to you, his mouth finding yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Perfect,” he whispers, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “You’re perfect.”

He lines himself up and pushes into you with a long, steady thrust, the head of his cock stretching you inch by inch until he’s buried fully inside. Your lips part in a shuddering gasp, your body still fluttering from the last climax, the aftershocks wrapping around him and drawing a deep groan from his chest.

He stills there, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard like he’s savoring every second of being inside you. “God, you feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “I love you so much.”

His hips begin to move- slow at first, dragging all the way out before pressing back into the hilt, making you feel every inch. Each thrust is deep and deliberate, his hand finding yours between your bodies and lacing your fingers together like he’s anchoring himself.

He kisses you through it, the kind of kisses that steal your breath- soft one moment, hungry the next. His free hand strokes your cheek, tucks your hair back, touches you like you’re fragile and the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“You take me so well,” he breathes against your lips. “Every time… every time you feel like home.”

The words make your chest ache in the best way, your hips rising to meet his as the rhythm builds. He shifts slightly, angling his thrusts until the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. His thumb finds your clit again, stroking in slow, perfect circles that have you gasping into his mouth.

“Come with me,” he whispers, his voice almost desperate. “Please… I need to feel you.”

It hits you fast, your body clenching hard around him as your climax rips through you. He follows instantly, his hips stuttering as he spills deep inside, groaning your name into the crook of your neck. He keeps moving, slow and gentle now, riding out every aftershock until you’re both trembling and breathless.

When it’s over, he stays inside you, his chest pressed to yours, his hand still laced with yours. Finally, he eases out, tucks himself back in, and gathers you against him. His lips brush your temple in a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, quieter now, like the words are meant just for you.

You close your eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart under your ear, and for the first time since you married him, you let yourself believe it.

═══════

Four months pass, and the court is no longer divided over you.

You’ve stood in the council chamber beside Jungkook, your voice carrying as much weight as his. You’ve walked the gardens with visiting dignitaries, negotiated trade proposals, and heard the people’s petitions in the great hall. Every step, every decision, every glance exchanged with him has been watched- and now, no one doubts.

Today is the day it becomes official.

The great hall is a sea of color, banners of both your kingdoms and his draped from the vaulted ceiling. Sunlight pours through stained glass, scattering jewels of light across the marble floor. Nobles, ministers, and foreign rulers fill the room, their eyes on the dais where two thrones sit side by side.

Jungkook is already there, dressed in ceremonial black and gold, a crown resting lightly on his head. He turns when you enter, and the faint smile that touches his lips is for you alone.

The High Chancellor’s voice rings out, carrying over the hush. “By the will of the Crown and the grace of Almighty God, let it be known throughout this realm and beyond its borders: Princess consort Y/N, beloved daughter of the realm and consort to His Majesty the King, having been found worthy in faith, in honor, and in steadfast devotion, is this day anointed and crowned.

From henceforth she shall be known as Her Most Gracious Majesty, Y/N, Queen Consort of this Kingdom, Guardian of the Crown’s dignity, and sworn companion to the Sovereign.

May her counsel be wise, her heart steadfast, and her reign beside His Majesty bring peace, prosperity, and glory to the realm.

Long live the Queen!”

You step forward, and the crown- lighter than you imagined, yet impossibly heavy with meaning- is placed upon your head.

When you rise, Jungkook takes your hand in front of the entire court, his grip warm and steady. The cheers that follow echo through the hall, the sound of a kingdom bearing witness.

You glance at him, your heart steady and certain.

Once, his heart was elsewhere. Now, it beats for me alone.

═══════

♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 08/15/2025

Taglist: @mar-lo-pap @lovingkoalaface @whoa-jo @kiliskywalker666 @sucker4jeon @annpeachy-blog @kaiparkerwifes @nikkinikj @asyr97 @jjkluver7 @bammbi-jeon127 @kookoo-kachoo @angelsdecalcomania @kayswatanabe @kelsyx33 @tatamicc @llallaaa @chromietriestowrite @k1ll1ngcl0wns @jahnaviii @mfsitscho @traumaanatomy @yu-justme @bangtaniess @roseda @hottigerboba @xumyboo @bangtansfav-7 @ggukieskookie @granataepfelchen @blubird592 @mellyyyyyyx @gukkiemybaby @likeesapphire @jaerisdiction @amarawayne @elithenium @heyinwluv85s @prilnextdoor23 @Strxqrd1 @uli_o7 @jojojoliejolene @kyrasworldd @sc05

[jungshaking]

5 SECONDS TO FREEDOM

↻⠀𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞: "you shouldn't have let him race you six months ago. he should never have been able to beat you. but he did-and now you're stuck with a Latino menace whose tongue drips with sexual innuendo and whose eyes turn molten black the moment they lock on yours. too bad you've got a double identity to protect—engaged, and the heiress to Hayashi Motors."

↻⠀𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: rivals to lovers, double life drama, slow burn, street racing, fuck buddies, latino!jimin ↻⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: here (MUST READ) ↻⠀𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park jimin x f!reader ↻⠀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing | 𝐰𝐜: 23k+ | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 3/? ↻⠀𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: ao3 | wattpad | taglist

⟨°˖✧ chapters ✧˖°⟩ | *= smut

#00 | #01 | #02 | #03 | #04 | #05 | #06 | #07 | #08 | #09 | #10 | #11 | #12 | #13 | #14 | #15 | [...]

⟨°˖✧ plot✧˖°⟩

You've spent years building the perfect reputation on Tokyo's underground racing circuit. By day: the dutiful heiress to Hayashi Motors. By night: "Hachiroku," the untouchable street queen who's never lost a race worth mentioning. Until him. The Latino street racer who everyone only knows as "Jaque." Midnight purple Skyline R34. Spanish curses and a smile that spells trouble. Racing for pink slips during midnight runs, trading insults that feel too much like foreplay, and falling into a physical arrangement was never in your plans. And honestly? Between your fiancé waiting at home, your family's expectations, and this man who speaks filthy promises in Spanish against your skin—someone's bound to crash and burn. Too bad the adrenaline feels too good to stop.

⟨°˖✧ drabbles ✧˖°⟩

▷ garage confessions ▷ skyline whispers ▷ hayashi family dinner ▷ midnight calls home ▷ engagement party ▷ the wrench ring ▷ mountaintop surrender ▷ spanish lessons ▷ borrowed jacket ▷ engine grease kisses ▷ what happens in neutral ground ▷ mechanical failures

⟨°˖✧ extras ✧˖°⟩< ☆ playlists: • the soundtrack • jimin's garage playlist ☆ moodboards: aesthetic • characters ☆ car specs: jimin's skyline • y/n's ae86 ☆ asks : ask the disasters (open) | asks about the fic ☆ readers’ requests ➜ through asks! ⤷ pov reversals (requests: open) xxx ⤷ drabbles (requests: open) xxx

☆ disclaimer☆ this is purely a work of fiction. characters, cars, and racing scenes are fictional and not meant to encourage illegal activities. all intimate scenes feature consenting adults in fictional scenarios.

© jungkoode 2025 | banner/div credit: @dailynnt no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[jungshaking]

Me 🫱🏼‍🫲🏻 established relationship

OUR LITTLE LIFE

moments in your little life with the man of your dreams, from the domesticity found in early morning burnt toast and bedtime kisses to late-night diaper disasters, passive-aggressive arguments about laundry, and him proving that married sex can in fact still break the headboard.

tags: sliceoflife!au, married!au, pregnancy!au, businessman!jungkook, sahm!reader

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

status: ongoing

main masterlist character moodboards oll tag oll extras

01: the one where date night goes wrong (5.5k)

02: the one where jungwoo is sick (3.6k)

03: the one with the lap dance (6.7k)

[jungshaking]

🙏🏻 yes

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE

jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

tags: fwb!au, co-workers!au, professor!jungkook, professor!reader, fwb2l, slow burn

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

status: ongoing

main masterlist character moodboards spotify playlist

tmhtl tag tmhtl extras tmhtl amm

01: the one where you lock the bathroom door (3.5k)

02: the one where you're sick (2.7k)

03: the one where you break a rule (6.7k)

04: the one where you spend the night (8.6k)

05: the one in jeju (16k)

06: the one with all the crying (13.6k)

6.5: the flashback (5k)

07: the one with the box of letters (6.3k)

08: the one with the voicemail (13.8k)

09: the one where he takes you on a date (12.5k)

[jungshaking]

Top 2 Jin solos

Epiphany - BTS

[jungshaking]

you guyssss 😭😭😭 my inner teen has never been so happy

We got Blood, sweat & tears and Dope for SING ARMY 😭😭 also SPRING DAY!!!! So so happy I got to hear it live

[jungshaking]

jungkook fic recs - pt. 3

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

pls reblog if you like any of my recs and don´t forget to support authors!❤️

riding jungkook´s nose - ( @euphoricfilter ) we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease

fucking in the gym - ( @euphoricfilter ) this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors

wicked - ( @noteguk ) smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading

strings attached (to my heart) - ( @jungkoode ) smut, crack, fluff, IT HAS IT ALLL, spider man au, college au, spider-man!jk x journalist!reader. READ THE TAGS BC ITS GOOD AF, bc wdym you combined sub-loser-desperate jk who also has a noona kink wITH a superhero au??? it´s like you wrote it for me,, (also, this deserves many many more notes imo)

think i need someone older - ( @redcherrykook ) smut, whipped rich older bf!jk (PERIOD!!) x younger!reader. JESUS FUCKING CHRISTTTTTTT!!! no more words needed, this one´s pulled right out of my maladaptive daydreaming folder

fade into you - ( @nmjoo-n ) SMUT, fluff, fwb to lovers au. barista!jk, possessive obsessive toxic lovesick!jk (LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO). this is a whole 2022 masterpiece, they way this is written, and the way jungkook is borderline PSYCOTICH (or in love ig) for her is so hotttttttt. deff one of my favs

this is how you fal in love - ( @jeonqkooks ) fluff, smut, angst if you squint. rockstar!jk au, est relationship. this is beautiful, a 2022 gem. love love love how lengthy and detailed this is

frost impressions - ( @fortunexkookie ) soccer coach!jk, teacher!reader, gamer au, work au, idiots to lovers, one sided pining at first, it´s a longggg one. another 2020 masterpiece, one of my favorite fics out there, he´s so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression. so so so entertaining and fun to read, jk is silly af lmao, can´t stop putting his foot in his mouth, theres a bunch of cute second hand embarrasment situations

Over The Odds | The Confession - ( @jungk0oksthighs ) ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series

wrong time - ( @spideyjimin ) smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life

don´t blame me - ( @ctrlsht ) sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc

failed quickie - ( @vminizzle ) cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but shit happens, he likes his hair pulled!!1!

someone older - ( @bonny-kookoo ) smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again

[jungshaking]

The Rich Man’s Crochet Club [Master List]

A series of one shots centered around a chaotic group of friends whose friendship began based on one shared commonality: they all were still v i r g i n s.

Headers: by the wonderful, tremendously talented @underthejoon​ (I LOVE THEM ALL)

Member: Namjoon

Word Count: 32,476

Summary:  When they were freshmen in college, Namjoon began a club with his six closest friends. The one thing they all had in common? V i r g i n s as fuck. Obviously, they couldn’t call the club the Virgins Club and so, the Rich Man’s Crochet Club was born. Until time passes and Namjoon is the only one left. Now, the Club has one, final mission: to get Namjoon laid.

Member: Hoseok

Word Count: 4,110

Summary: The story of how Hoseok lost his virginity. Based off this line in RMCC:  “That’s the whole point,” Hoseok explains, dropping a wink which makes Namjoon groan. “That’s how I lost my virginity, you know. I scored the winning run in a championship game and that night, Tiffany something-or-other jumped me in a dirty frat bathroom. It was…” Hoseok pauses for effect. “Heavenly.”

Member: Jungkook

Word Count: 6,870

Summary: The story of how Jungkook lost his virginity. To quote Seokjin/Namjoon: “What Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him and – let’s be honest – his story is hilarious. One pump,” Seokjin laughs, sounding like a hyena. “One pump and he’s done.” // Ducking his head, Namjoon tries not to smile. “It was a rookie mistake,” he protests, defending their friend. “Jungkook was overexcited and couldn’t control himself. He got better.”

Member: Jungkook

Word Count: 42.7K

Summary: The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend.

RMCC FAN ART TAG

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

A/N: These one shots are all listed in order of being written. Chronologically, the order is: Trouble, The Virgin Volume, The Rich Man’s Crochet Club and then, The Monogamy Monologues. 

[jungshaking]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 7....

Series...

Bound by Fate, Chosen by Love || Jungkook x Reader I Werwolf x Witch |Supernatural au || @sweetvoidstuff

Summary : A witch bound by duty. A werewolf bound by instinct. When fate intertwines their paths, they must decide if love is worth defying expectations. Hunters threaten their people, forcing them to fight side by side. As tensions rise, so does the pull between them—soft moments turning into something far more intense. A quiet invitation, a lingering touch, a whispered question that changes everything. In the end, choice matters more than destiny. But with danger still lurking, will they have the chance to choose each other?

A Black Eye & Two Kisses || biker!jungkook x reader | strangers to lovers || @igwb

Summary: you knew life wouldn’t be easy as a woman in a world built by men. you had grown up knowing that it was only a matter of time before you, too, would face that same brutal reality. even as you dreamed of something else—something as simple as independence—you understood how utopian that idea was for a woman in times like these. but who could have known that, sometimes, freedom could come from a man himself? a lost soul, like you, caught in the same struggle, trapped in his own way. a soul that, despite everything, might just understand your pain

Another Time || Jungkook x reader | soulmate au || @jkwrites-m

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

In love with love (with you) || Jungkook x reader | office!au | coworkers!au | frenemies to lovers | idiots to lovers | kind of childhood friends to lovers || @pantoneyoongi

Summary: you’re a romantic. jungkook? jungkook is not. 

Something about you || teacher!JK and researcher!OC | friends au | vacation au | semi slow burn a | romcom-ish vibe || @ahundredtimesover

Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

One-shot...

Bridges we almost burned || jungkook x reader || @kooffeecup

Summary: when you see your boyfriend giving ride to the new intern frequently because he thinks it’s convenient, something snaps inside you.

The Grumpy Girlfriend Protection Program || sunshine bf x grumpy gf | office worker! reader x veterinary student! jungkook || @jincapableoflove

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has always been the sunshine in every room; warm, kind, and completely oblivious to danger. Luckily, you, his grumpy, overprotective girlfriend have made it your personal mission to keep him safe. But when the threat shifts to you instead, Jungkook proves that even sunshine can scorch—and for you, he’d burn.

Beneath His Love || Two-Shot | yandere!jungkook x reader || @ctrlsht

Summary: Jeon Jungkook was once just a foreign high school friend until he disappeared without a word after graduation. Years later, he came back, not just to reconnect, but to claim a place in your life as your lover. To everyone else, your relationship is something out of a fairytale, the kind others envy. And for a while, you believed it too until the mask he wore began to slip, revealing a side of him you never saw coming.

Married for 7 days. || bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader || @kooklovee

Summary: Matching rings and a joke—your boyfriend says you're married. What he didn’t expect is for you to play along the whole trip... And the more you pretend...the less it feels like a game.

Higher power || brother's best friend jungkook x reader || @jiminrings

Summary: waiting for jungkook to love again doesn't guarantee you a permanent romantic spot in his life, even if you've been in love with him the longest.

alternatively, you promised yourself to keep confessing to jungkook, your brother's best friend, every year until you turn twenty-eight.

Somehow you || nerd!jungkook x reader || @timelessjk

Summary: he was the quiet one in class. the type who never talked unless called on, who looked at the world from behind thick-rimmed glasses and stayed out of everyone’s way. you? you were the girl everyone knew. the one who never let anyone in. you weren’t looking for connection, and he wasn’t the kind to ask for it. but still… he did. and somehow, it worked.

heajix || alien!jungkook x reader || @httpjeon

Summary: you find yourself on palacios, home to the sehebon. unfortunately, it’s not by choice and you quickly realize how deadly the planet is.

After the bell || illegal boxer Jeon Jungkook x Bookie F!reader || @jeonluvz

Summary: run the books in the backroom—dirty bets, dirty money, dirtier deals. On paper, everything looks clean. But anyone who matters knows better. They think you’re in it for the cash. Only Jungkook knows the truth: you’re not betting on the fight—you’re betting on him. You wear his old jacket like it means something, posted up ringside with that blank stare that makes men nervous. But when he wins, you slip through the back and let him have you however he wants. Because the real score? It ain’t the payout. It’s his name being attached to you.

That kiss || Two-Shot | bestfriend jungkook x reader || @aurora-writesjjk

Summary: two best friends fake-date for a wedding, but one unexpected kiss sparks real feelings, jealousy, and a confession that changes everything.

Black ribbon bride || Two-Shot | Mafia!jungkook x reader | Mafia AU | Dark Romance | Forced Marriage || @youthguk

Summary: “I want this one,”he said, eyes on you like a predator. A marriage sealed in diamonds and blood. You were supposed to hate him, but monsters don’t let go of the things they’ve claimed.

Love me, even if I don’t deserve it || fuckboy jungkook x reader || @dailynnt

Summary: He didn’t believe in love. You wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. But sex became a trap. Feelings a mistake. Jungkook thought he could keep you, even when he kept disappearing whenever he wanted. You stayed, until got tired of waiting. And when you left — he finally understood what losing truly means. He wants you back. Not just your body — your heart. This is a story about passion, pain, and a second chance…

Strawberry sunset || werewolf!jungkook x reader | harry potter au | best friends au || @sunflowercds

Summary: it’s seventh year. your last year at hogwarts! it’s the year for wrapping things up as you begin to make plans for the future… however, you find yourself doing the complete opposite, and your life begins to unravel before your very eyes. oh, how things take a turn for the worst.

alternative summary: tell me, do you believe in right person, wrong time?

Trophy boy || bestfriend!jungkook x reader || @dumpywrites

Summary: Beauty privilege exists, that's why you're selling your hot best friend.

[jungshaking]

OUT OF LINE

↪︎𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞: "You don't flirt back. You don't fold. And Taehyung is running out of rules left to break."

↪︎𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: enemies to lovers, sports au, emotional slow burn, explicit smut, arrogant!tae, real madrid football player!tae ↪︎𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: here (MUST READ) ↪︎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim taehyung x f!reader ↪︎𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing | wc: 27k+ | chapters: 3/44 ↪︎𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: ao3 | wattpad | lineverse guide | taglist ↪︎𝐣𝐤’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: between the lines by @writesvani

◦•◦ CHAPTERS◦•◦ | *= smut

V̲O̲L̲U̲M̲E̲ O̲N̲E̲ ⤷ "first fouls & fresh bruises"

ᯓ⚽︎ #01 | ᯓ⚽︎ #02 | ᯓ⚽︎ #03 | ᯓ⚽︎ #04 | ᯓ⚽︎ #05 | ᯓ⚽︎ #06 | ᯓ⚽︎ #07 | ᯓ⚽︎ #08 | ᯓ⚽︎ #09

V̲O̲L̲U̲M̲E̲ T̲W̲O̲ ⤷ "red cards & rough play"

ᯓ⚽︎ #10 | ᯓ⚽︎ #11 | ᯓ⚽︎ #12 | ᯓ⚽︎ #13 | ᯓ⚽︎ #14 | ᯓ⚽︎ #15 | ᯓ⚽︎ #16 | ᯓ⚽︎ #17 | ᯓ⚽︎ #18

V̲O̲L̲U̲M̲E̲ T̲H̲R̲E̲E̲ ⤷ "offside hearts & hidden halves"

ᯓ⚽︎ #19 | ᯓ⚽︎ #20 | ᯓ⚽︎ #21 | ᯓ⚽︎ #22 | ᯓ⚽︎ #23 | ᯓ⚽︎ #24 | ᯓ⚽︎ #25 | ᯓ⚽︎ #26 | ᯓ⚽︎ #27

V̲O̲L̲U̲M̲E̲ F̲O̲U̲R̲ ⤷ "yellow warnings & wounded pride"

ᯓ⚽︎ #28 | ᯓ⚽︎ #29 | ᯓ⚽︎ #30 | ᯓ⚽︎ #31 | ᯓ⚽︎ #32 | ᯓ⚽︎ #33 | ᯓ⚽︎ #34 | ᯓ⚽︎ #35 | ᯓ⚽︎ #36

V̲O̲L̲U̲M̲E̲ F̲I̲V̲E̲ ⤷ "extra time & earned victories"

ᯓ⚽︎ #37 | ᯓ⚽︎ #38 | ᯓ⚽︎ #39 | ᯓ⚽︎ #40 | ᯓ⚽︎ #41 | ᯓ⚽︎ #42 | ᯓ⚽︎ #43 | ᯓ⚽︎ #44

◦•◦ PLOT◦•◦

There are rules in football—on the pitch, off the pitch, and especially around the team physio’s daughter. Taehyung’s only got one left to break. You weren’t supposed to grow up around football. But you did—back when your dad worked for Barça, back when #8 still waved at you from the locker room tunnel. You’ve changed cities, changed colors, and still, you know better than to fall for a player. Especially one like Taehyung. Madrid’s #2. Arrogant, egotistical, and so casually confident it makes your teeth clench. He likes games, slow smiles, and pushing people just to see how far they’ll go. You don’t flirt back. You don’t make it easy. And he has no idea what to do with that. You’re not a fangirl. You’re not impressed. And you sure as hell aren’t scared of him. The only thing Taehyung hates more than losing… is coming second to a Barça boy. And he’s never been one to stay in line.

◦•◦ DRABBLES◦•◦

ongoing - new fragments added regularly

◦•◦ EXTRAS◦•◦ ☆ playlist: • lineverse soundtrack ☆ moodboard: pinterest ☆ tags: #outofline • #lineverse • #ofllyrics ☆ asks : ask the disasters (open) | asks about the fic ☆ readers’ requests ➜ through asks! ⤷ pov reversals (requests: open) xxx ⤷ drabbles (requests: open) xxx

☆ DISCLAIMER☆ this is a work of fiction. all characters and activities depicted are fictional. bts members are used for visual reference only.

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[jungshaking]

전정국 | 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇���𝗌

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Barcelona’s streets are full of legends — but none quite like Jungkook, the soccer prodigy who’s taken the city by storm.

You’re the ultimate nepo baby with a sharp tongue and a knack for making everyone question how you got here. He’s the cocky soccer star who’s determined to prove you’re more style than substance. You’re sarcastic, entitled, and completely self-aware; he’s loud, extroverted, and impossible to ignore.

Together, you clash like two unstoppable forces—witty insults flying, chemistry crackling, and a rivalry that no one saw coming.

So go ahead—try to keep your cool. But be warned: in Barcelona, the only thing hotter than the summer sun is the mess you’re about to get tangled in.

brother's best friend, enemies to lovers, sports romance

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: soccer!player jungkook × nepo!baby y/n

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, angst & smut, separate warnings will be listed in each chapter

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10,9k + more soon

ʟɪɴᴇᴠᴇʀsᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇ

ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʟɪɴᴇ (ᴛᴀᴇ'ꜱ sᴛᴏʀʏ) @jungkoode

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: click HERE to join

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx ׅ ‎ ˖ ݁

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter one: spin the narrative

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter two: we're going viral

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter three: ✎ 𓂃 soon

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter four:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter five:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter six:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter seven:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter eight:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter nine:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter ten:

ᴇxᴛʀᴀꜱ & ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ ׅ ‎ ˖ ݁

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ BTL moodboard

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ lineverse playlist

+ more coming soon.

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ׅ ‎ ˖ ݁

I do not own Jeon Jungkook, BTS, FC Barcelona, the sport of soccer, or literally anyone or anything else famous that appears in this chaotic masterpiece. If I did, I’d be writing this from a beach in Ibiza, not my questionable Wi-Fi connection. Everything here is pure fiction and the product of my sleep-deprived brain. Please don’t sue me. I’m broke, and my only asset is half a pack of gum and crippling emotional attachment to fictional men.

all works published here are created by me (@writesvani on tumblr). i own all rights to my original works, including any written content, original characters, and plotlines. copying, redistributing, translating, or posting my works on any other social media without my explicit permission is strictly prohibited. all rights reserved.

[jungshaking]

MASTERLIST

ESCAPISM

SUMMERY:

He leaned closer to her, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "There's a darker side to the underbelly of Seoul, Aalia," he said. "Kitty Gang is just the tip of the iceberg."

PAIRINGS: Jimin & Moon | Yoongi & Aalia | BTS ( OT7 )

GENRE: Dark Romance, Smut, Mature, Mafia

RATING: Mature, 21+, NSFW, MDNI

NETWORKS:

AUTHORS'S NOTE:

Escapism is a dark romance—intense, poetic, and deeply atmospheric. It explores desire, deception, and the pull of the forbidden.

This story is also written by two authors. Both working on the two couple. Please read with caution. For those who stay, welcome to a world where love and darkness intertwine.

Copyright Notice EscapismAuthor V & Author QMarch, 2025 © 2025, Valeria & Querida. All rights reserved. This work, including all text, characters, plot, dialogue, and related materials contained within Escapism, is the property of Valeria & Querida. No part of this book may be copied, stored, or shared without the author’s written consent. The characters, events, and settings are products of the author's imagination. Violations of this copyright will be pursued to the fullest extent of the law.

CHARACTERS

Aalia Vito Hong - I don’t chase. I attract—and then ignore

moodboard

Lee Moon - Revealing the moon behind the clouds.

mooboard

Park Jimin - Alley Cat or Kitty Gang? Whats your name?

moodboard

Min Yoongi - What's the matter - afraid the temptation?

moodboard

CHAPTERS

Chapter 1 - Aalia & Yoongi - Dante’s Inferno

He moved along the leather sofa of the booth, drawing even closer to her. "Just how innocent are you, really?" he asked. "Have you ever been this close to a man before, darling?"

Chapter 2 - Moon & Jimin - New Moon

She pouted dramatically. "Why?" Then, teasingly, "Also, what's your name? Should I call you 'masked man' or 'alley cat'?"

Chapter 3 - Aalia & Yoongi - Shamelss

"Good morning." His voice cut through the idle murmurs, deep and smooth, laced with an authority that settled in the marrow of her bones. “My name is Min Yoongi, and I’ll be your business studies professor for this year.” The words were simple, professional, but all Aalia could think to herself were three words; What. The. Fuck.

Chapter 4 - Jimin & Moon & Taehyung - Best Friend

"Baby girl," he stopped walking and turned to face her. "Why are you so intrested?" He tilted his head, eyes flickering over her face like he was trying to piece something together. Then his lips curled. "Don't tell me you went there?" She stayed silent. His smirk widened. "You did."

Chapter 5 - Aalia & Yoongi - I Walk the Line

He smirked, but he did not push the topic further. Instead, the car fell into silence again, the tension growing in the air between them. He inhaled, and that’s when it hit him—the scent. The scent. Dior Hypnotic Poison. It was the same perfume she had worn that night at Kitty Gang.

Chapter 6 - Jimin & Moon & Taehyung - Kiss Me

Taehyung’s patience snapped. "You motherfucker! What did you do to her?" Jimin exhaled slowly, his face a mask of indifference. "Nothing,"

Chapter 7 - Aalia & Yoongi - Vincenzo

“You—ahhahah…” she tried to compose herself, wiping beneath her eyes. “You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.” Yoongi chuckled, the sound deep and slow. “And why is that?” “I am not going to the nine circles of hell,” she said, still laughing.

Chapter 8 - Jimin & Moon & Aalia & Yoogi & Taehyung - Game Night

Min Soo’s smirk deepened, sensing the crack in Moon’s silence. “You said truth, right?” Her voice turned soft, mocking, almost childlike. “So tell us the truth, Moon.” She tilted her head, letting the words linger, drawing them out like silk unraveling in the wind.

Chapter 9 - Moon & Jimin - Good Girl

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” he asked, his voice oozed with playful torment. The only response she could give was a moan—every sensation he delivered too overwhelming to permit rational thought. “Use your words, baby,” Jimin coaxed, the high stakes of his request clear in the heavy deamnd of his voice. “Tell me what you want, Moon.”

Chapter 10 - Aalia & Yoongi - Wonderland

“Who was he?“ his voice was low. Aalia knew exactly who he was refering to. “Oh, that is insolent,” she said sarcasticly. “None of your business.” He chuckled at her sarcasm, low and smooth, like the purr of an expensive engine idling in the night. "Everything about you is my business, Aalia,” he said.

Chapter 11 - Aalia & Yoongi - Escapism

And now, here she was, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. His fingers twitched at his sides. He should not. He had promised her restraint. He leaned in, his forehead nearly touching hers, his voice a silken whisper against her trembling breath. “There are so many things I could teach you, Aalia.”

Chaper 12 - BTS ( OT7 ) - Run Beautiful

“Namjoon,” Jin called out once he made out of the club. His voice was slightly breathless from running and urgent. “The police.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Namjoon wanted to facepalm himself. “I leave for a few minutes.”

Chapter 13 - Moon & Jimin - Like Crazy

A moan fell from her lips when he gripped her hip with his other hand, his finger dug into her hipbone as if he was leaving behind a tattoo of his fingers. Her own hand wrapped around his wrist, not pushing it away to let him know that he was hurting her, but she encouraged it. “You’re being such a good girl for me, baby,” he said, kissing beneath her. “My good girl. My Moon.”

Chapter 14 - Moon & Jimin - Strawberry 

His hand moved, finally, to the side of her neck, thumb brushing her jaw, guiding her closer. She melted into it, her hands curling around the front of his shirt, clutching it like it was the only anchor she had. He pulled back a fraction, just enough for his breath to ghost over her lips. “You taste…” he trailed. “Like heaven, baby.”

Chapter 15 - Aalia & Yoongi - Damn Those Eyes

“Here are my rules,” he began, his voice lower now, smoother. “I don’t want secrets between us. Not just the obvious ones. I mean the real ones. The quiet thoughts that keep you up at night. I want you to tell me what you’re feeling. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially then.”

Chapter 16 - Aalia & Yoongi - Older

When he pulled back, she was glowing from ruin. From what he'd done to her. From what she'd let him do. And he was stunned. Utterly, completely undone by how beautiful she was like this. Like Eve, moments before the fall. Like Persephone before Hades. “Mine," he whispered. "Yours," she breathed.

Chapter 17 - Aalia & Yoongi - OHMAMI

Yoongi chuckled softly. " I meant trust me with secrets... fears... doubts," he murmured, the weight of the request almost sounded like a plea. "I want you to trust me truly. And I don't want you looking at other men, and I sure as hell won't be looking at other women." He said it not like a man claiming ownership-but like a man placing an oath at her feet. His voice bore no chains, only softness. Only the ache of someone who had been lonely for too long and couldn't believe he was being allowed to feel this way.

Chapter 18 - Moon & Jimin - Moon Phases

“You want to play a game?” she asked, without looking at him. “A game?” She finally turned, her gaze dropped to his mouth, then slowly rose to his eyes. “Truth or dare.” His heart stuttered. The last time they played was during Game Night at Kitty Gang, and it did not end well.

Chapter 19 - Moon & Jimin - Red

Moon met Jimin's gaze, and for the first time, she felt the weight of his command press down on her. "Undress for me," he'd said, but something stirred within her, a whisper of rebellion she hadn’t heard before, and she shook her head. "No," she whispered, the word rolling off her tongue, an unfamiliar taste of defiance and fear.

Chapter 20 - Jin & Moon & Taehyung - Inner Child

"You motherfucker," she hissed, the words imbued with frustration. Yet, beneath the ire, there was a spark of admiration for his audacity, his willingness to push her in ways others dared not to. Jin, on the other hand, smirked, leaning against the doorframe. His calmness was laced with a subtle softness—an elder sibling reminding his younger counterpart that he was always one step ahead. "When will you learn to respect your elders?" he chided gently, a hint of warmth beneath the words.

Chapter 21 - Aalia & Yoongi & Moon & Jimin - Dangerous Woman

As the night continued and they had moved to dessert, Moon's gaze caught something beyond Aalia's shoulder, the shift in her demeanor whispering of a change in the atmosphere. "Oh, fuck." The oath held enough weight to hang in the air like bell chorusing a warning.

Chapter 22 - Moon & Jimin - Ride Me

“I was terrified,” Jimin continued, a tremor slipping into his tone as it cracked under the strain of his own heartache. “Terrified of losing the only woman who ever saw me for more than the man people wanted me to be.” The words carried the haunting echo of his vulnerability—a vulnerability gifted only to her, the one soul who had ever truly held his essence in her hands.

Chapter 23 - Aalia & Yoongi - Teacher's Pet

He felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, one that couldn't be stopped even if he wished it. His gaze held hers. One second. Two. Then, the words came—low, steady. “Yes,” he said, still looking only at her. “I am seeing someone.”

Chapter 24 - BTS ( 0T7 ) & Moon & Aalia & Rachel & Soo Yun - DIONYSUS

Elevated above the dancers, five figures sat cloaked in a shroud of otherworldly allure—the gods of this modern Olympus that was Seoul. They were gods dressed in designer black while the world below danced in chaos, but up here it was like they casted divine judgment from the peak of Olympus

Chapter 25 - Aalia & Yoongi - Love Story

“Stay,” he whispered, and the word trembled slightly as it left his throat. Not from fear, but from something more dangerous: hope. His voice carried the ache of years lost to silence. “Please.”

Chapter 26 - Yoongi & Hoseok & Namjoon & Jungkook - Daechwita

Yoongi leaned back in his chair and sighed as he spoke almost kindly. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't kill you. I don't care how much you were paid. I just want you not to say you're not innocent because it insults my intelligence, and it makes me very angry. That's all."

Chapter 27 - Moon & Jimin & Taehyung & Jin & Rachel - House Of Cards

The other patrons had long retreated from the immediate vicinity, sensing the shift, understanding that this conversation was not for idle ears. “Either you tell us a price,” Jimin spoke with a voice smooth as silk yet edged with steel, “or you're the morning breaking news.”

Chapter 28 - Moon & Jimin & Taehyung - Filter

"You’re driving me crazy," he rasped, his voice hoarse. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she continued to tease him with her intoxicating moves. She stepped even closer, pressing herself against him. Her hands slid up his torso, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "You're not the only one,” She murmured, her voice just barely audible over the music.

Chapter 29 - Min Soo & Jimin - Lie

“Moon-” "You fucking psychopath motherfucker." Moon spat venom as she looked at him. “Wait-”

Chapter 30 - Moon & Jin & Jimin & Taehyung - Lost

"You broke me.“  "Broke you?" He breathed out, his head snapping up to look at her. “How… how am I supposed to fix it? You won’t even look at me." He asked, his expression turning desperate.   " You can’t fix it. "  His hands stop just short of touching her leg, his fingers flexing nervously. "Is... is it really unfixable?" He asked softly, his eyes never leaving her face.