neverevergonnaletbtsgo

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter eleven: a world without you

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

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oh yeah, i made a spotify playlist for this <3

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: caleb desperately searches for you. what he finds leaves him unsettled.

word count: 10.5k words

warnings: please, please, PLEASE read the trigger warnings before proceeding. lightly proofread...it ain't perfect!

author's note: hi! thank you so much for being patient with me! the story is taking a slightly darker turn! it will still focus on their relationship but...this is going to put their relationship to the test

content warning: mentions of death/murder, bodily harm, manipulation, experimentation, exploitation, self loathing, angst, professor lucius is lowkey a sadist

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @lemonwithstupidity

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Seven months and twenty eight days.

It has been seven months and twenty eight days since Caleb let the woman who haunts his every waking thoughts and nightmares slip through his fingers.

He allowed himself to fall from the sky that day, slipping through the clouds as Ever’s plane vanishes from behind, becoming a black speck amongst the birds in the blue sky. The image served as a reminder of his failure to keep you safe, to keep you out of the professor’s hands and away from Ever.

Now, you’re gone and all he is left to do is pick up the remaining pieces of his sanity while trying to find you.

The days pass him by. Days blur into weeks and weeks blur into months. Caleb has become a shell of himself in your absence. All of the color in his life has been drained and his once (somewhat) patient persona as Colonel has become known as an officer to avoid in the headquarters.

Caleb dedicates every single second of his day to finding you. He pokes around the Fleet’s security files, just barley able to grasp onto a lead before the General, most likely puppeted by the Professor, locks him out of the system.

Caleb has become a Colonel that holds no power within the Farspace Fleet. He holds no power in Ever, having been dropped from the Professor’s precious right hand man spot, and he has no power in whenever he goes home, forever forced to stare at the ceiling, trying to think of new ways to get you home.

It is like a ticking time bomb slowly eating away at the seconds of his days. Knowing that you are in the clutches of Ever and Professor Lucius scares him. He is terrified because he knows that the Professor has a sadistic side to him, an unstable hunger for power and evolution that will devour the entire world from around you. Professor Lucius will not stop until his final plan comes to fruition and you, my dear, just happen to be at the center of his plans.

Caleb sighs, closing his eyes. He lays in his bedroom, the weather destroying the outside world as he battles impulsive thoughts of storming into Ever as a one man army, ready to do anything to bring you back into his arms, to smell your perfume, to feel your warmth against his skin…

Your face crosses his thoughts. A small smile spreads across his face, the man instinctively reaching out for your. Your hands are just about to meet, his fingertips just barely grazing yours, before your body is enveloped in smoke, being dragged away into the depths of his mind. Your screams and cries for help twists his stomach, contorting it so all he can feel is nausea. 

A tear slips from Caleb’s eye. His mind is a battlefield and yet his heart remains steady, unable to betray the turmoil that crashed throughout his mind. From the first day they took you, Ever’s surveillance on him has increased. He has felt the whir of the chip inside his body, the person on the other side of the monitor closely looking at his vitals, his heartbeat. He can’t let Ever or the Professor think that he has become unstable with you away, a flight risk that will destroy everything that Professor Lucius has built. He cannot allow them to have a reason to bring him in to, to beat him into submission.

Maybe this has been Professor Lucius’ plan all along. Once Caleb has found someone to fill in the void of his heart and mind, the elderly man planned to rip them away from him, to use them as a pawn in their never ending game of cat and mouse.

Caleb has always been a good soldier when he believes in the orders he is given. Anything outside of what he deems to be right, well, let’s just say that the Professor made sure to erase any part of him that likes to disobey. The Professor has made sure to erase the morals Caleb once held. He has left Caleb with an obedience that a losing dog has towards its owner.

You helped him loosen the collar. Your prescience reminded him of what he is fighting for, his motivation to continue on with his days until he can finally rest. With you gone, his life has no more meaning. Maybe he should give in to the Professor, to allow the older man to consume his mind and body, to contort and twist his limbs into a person — no, a solider — that Caleb cannot recognize in the mirror.

His purple eyes feel heavy. His eyes flutter shut, his body almost succumbing to the disastrous desire of sleep.

Caleb’s body jolts awake. He sits up in bed, shaking away the drowsiness that lingers in his limbs, and slips away from the confines of the sheets. His feet carry him out of the bedroom and into the openness of his apartment. None of the lights are on, just the occasional flash of lightning through the large windows he hasn’t been bothered to shield with curtains.

The thunderstorm outside serves as a reminder for him letting you walk away. He should have never gone inside and left you alone. Caleb knows that you’re a runner, it is one of your fatal flaws that inevitably cut your time together short, and it is a flaw that he will try to bury with love and reassurance once you’re back into his arms. If you’ve fallen to a fate that he’s unable to bring you back from…

Caleb stops once he reaches the kitchen. He hasn’t cleaned since the night you left. Crumbs litter the countertop from his last meal. He sighs, knowing that you would have had some witty comment about him turning you into a housewife whenever you come over, always having to pick up after him. He knows you wouldn’t mean it. He desperately misses the toothy grin that would flash across your face as you swiped the crumbs into your hand and into the nearest trashcan.

A sigh leaves his lips. It hangs in the air, weighing down on his shoulders. The man cleans the crumbs and places his dishes into the sink, not wanting to clean them just yet with the hop that you’ll walk through the door at any moment, wanting to hear how you’d chastise him for being so messy during a time when he needed to be clean the most.

Every now and then, Caleb grabs the perfume you left behind and sprays it inside the rooms, on his pillow, and in all of the places you used to fill in whenever you were at his apartment. The last time he sprayed was a week ago when he could barely bring himself to leave his bed. The notes from your perfume kept him going and it helped him push through the monotonous days.

Should he spray it again? The bottle is almost empty so maybe he should salvage it instead of being selfish. He should spare the leftover drops of perfume, be merciful, and not take out his frustrations and depression on it.

Caleb finds himself on the couch. He sits in your spot, grabbing the pillow that you always hugged to your chest and mimicking your movements, resting his chin against the smooth material of the fabric. He slowly inhales, his body melting into the couch’s cushions, as your familiar and welcoming smell lulls him into sleep.

There’s a knock at the door. Caleb’s head perks up, his purple eyes landing on the dark brown door. A pair of footsteps run from behind, infectious giggles and laughs while Josephine tries to keep up. Caleb looks over his shoulder, watching as Josephine attempts to grab her as she jumps around with damp hair.

“Caleb? Would you be a dear and grab that for me?” Josephine’s voice is light and airy.

It’s everything that Caleb hates. She may not remember what Josephine and her colleagues have done to them, but Caleb does. The boy decides to not fight it, though, and stands from his spot on the brand new couch. He scratches around an old bandage that sits on the inside of his arm, a place where he was frequently poked with needles while in the clutches of Ever.

Caleb navigates the house, weaving through a plethora of opened cardboard boxes. Inside sit brand new items. Clothes, kitchen utensils, shoes, decorations, picture frames…all of which were bought to give off the image that Josephine is a gracious grandmother to her adoptive children.

He cautiously approaches the door, hesitating to grab the doorknob. He hopes that he can get away with the excuse that the people left or that it was some prank, like the ones he saw on the screens when he first left the facility. The boy thinks that the coast is clear when another knock sounds off from the door. He sucks in a breath and opens it up, expecting it to be soldiers from Ever when in actuality it’s…

You.

You stand in front of him, just slightly shorter, with a bright smile on your face and a plate of cookies in hand. Your mother stands behind you, a proud smile on her face as you extend the cookies towards him. Your dress is a navy blue and you have an white ribbon laced into your hair, formed into the perfect bow any girl has. Caleb is unable to breathe, his eyes flickering between the plate of baked goods and your pretty eyes.

“Hi…” your voice is quiet and your demeanor is shy. You take a step forward, the rim of the plate pushing into his personal space. He isn’t complaining, though, and holds out his hands to take the plate from you. “Um...” you turn around and look at your mother, who gives you a thumbs up and a smile. You turn back around and meet his eyes again, making Caleb’s tiny boy heart skip a beat. “Welcome to the neighborhood! My mom and I baked these for you and your family.”

Caleb is unable to say a word. All he can do is nod and smile, warmth spreading through his chest at the kind gesture. He has never experienced this before, to have someone gift him something with no ulterior motives or expectations to receive something back. Just as he’s about to say something, Josephine and her come walking down the hall.

Her laughter grows as she gets closer and Caleb instinctively steps to the side so she and Josephine can come out. The two of them smile down at you, thanking you for the cookies and king gesture all while Caleb just stares. Your eyes move to him every now and then, sharing a small smile with him. Eventually, he returns it, sheepishly looking away as his cheeks warm up.

“It looks like you have a lot on your hands,” your mom speaks up from behind, approaching the door, “would you like me to take them for a bit so you can have some time for yourself?”

“That would be wonderful,” Josephine smiles, a sigh of relief washing over her body.

Caleb looks up at her, his mind already fighting against the idea of leaving the safety of their home, but his gut tells him that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to forever live in a state of fight or flight. He watches as you, your mother, and her leave the close proximity of the door. He turns his face away, looking back up to Josephine who leans down, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Caleb,” her voice is tired, weary. She holds the weight of his and her’s worlds on her shoulders, carrying the weight of responsibility and accountability for her previous actions. “You deserve to go be a kid. Go and try to have some fun, okay?”

Josephine gently nudges him towards the trio. Her laughs fill the air, the young boy listening as she lists off her favorite types of sweets and favorite things she has seen since moving here. He sighs, nodding, and turning around. He keeps his eyes on the ground, unable to look away from the dark gray gravel. When he looks up, though, he notices you waiting at the gate for him.

“You’re Caleb, right?” you quietly ask. He nods as he approaches you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You tell him your name and he instantly memorizes it, loving how sweet the sound of your name is against his ears.

A butterfly flutters overhead. You look up, your smile growing brighter at the sight. You reach a hand out and the insect immediately lands on your tiny hand. Its wings are a bright orange color. It’s reminiscent of a sunset, one that he desperately wishes to see sometime soon.

“Do you…like butterflies?” he asks, finally breaking his silence. The two of you begin to walk in the direction of your house, which sits right next door to his. You ecstatically nod, a quiet laugh leaving your lips.

“My dad likes to say that we’re all caterpillars ready to become butterflies,” your voice is like music to his ears, your words as sweet as you are. The orange butterfly leaps from your hand and takes flight, its orange wings quickly flapping under the afternoon sunlight. You turn to look at him, smiling as the two of you approach the open door of your home. “Everyone deserves a second chance to become something better, don’t you think?”

Caleb nods, wholeheartedly agreeing with you. His heart swells and feels so full with a newfound purpose blossoming inside his body. He’ll become a butterfly, one that is as pretty as the wings that you already wear. He will not let his past define who he is, even if he is just a young kid who has no idea how the world works.

No longer does he love the colors white and gray. Instead, he much prefers blue and orange, the color of your dress and the butterfly that brought you two together.

“Come on,” you take his hand, tugging him towards the door, “let’s play!”

As soon as the two of you step through the door, your appearance changes. The two of you are older now. Eleven years old, to be exact. He finds himself in your backyard, surrounded by thriving greenery of your parents’ garden. A swing set sits in the middle of the lawn and she swings back and forth with the help of another kid, one whose hair is as black as night and his eyes sharing similar shades of the green grass and yellow flowers.

He sits beside you on the red and white blanket, popping an apple slice inside your mouth while you watch Zayne push her on the swing. There’s a small smile on her face, one that he has always found comfort in whenever he needed it the most. He rests his chin on his hand, melting into his own touch at the sight of you. Your eyes move to him, a small blush creeping up onto your cheeks. You look away, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“What are you looking at?” you ask, unable to meet his gaze. He found it so cute, how you always avoided his eyes whenever you caught him staring.

In just a few years, you’ll be boldly challenging him instead of being so shy. He loves the fact that you were able to undergo a third rebirth, shedding your cocoon of shyness and coming into a confident persona that he loves even more.

“Nothing,” he chuckles, leaning in to make your blush deepen even more.

“You’re such a jerk,” you mumble under your breath, earning a hearty laugh from him.

He wishes he can respond to you, to come up with some quirky quip about how cute your blush is or that he wishes that you would sit with him like this for longer. But all good things must come to an end. It’s just a fact of life.

She comes running over and places herself between the two of you, a proud smile on her face while Zayne takes his place at your side. You greet him with a smile and he nods in return, the man never having really changed throughout the years, which makes Caleb feel a tinge of jealousy. 

“Let’s play a game!” She proclaims with a fist in the air. Caleb’s eyes move between you and Zayne, his attention not on her as she begins to list off games that the four of you can play.

“Is there something you would like to play?” Zayne leans in to ask you. Caleb clears his throat, standing from the blanket. Everyone turns to look up at him but his purple eyes remain focused on yours.

“I propose that we play hide and seek,” Caleb smirks, knowing that it is the perfect opportunity to get you away from Zayne. “I can be the first one to find you guys! How does that sound?”

“Hide and seek?” Zayne stands from his spot, arms crossed over his chest while Caleb’s remain on his hips. “We aren’t—”

“It sounds like fun, Caleb,” you comment with a smile, standing and helping her up once you’re done. Zayne quickly shuts up and diverts his gaze, a hint of embarrassment flashing across his face. “Give us a minute to hide?” Caleb immediately nods, one that you return with a confident smile.

Not even a second later, the three of you bolt away and out of the backyard, knowing the set boundaries that your parents set so none of you go too far. Caleb turns around and closes his eyes, beginning to loudly count down from 60.

The closer and closer he gets to the last number, he can feel the summer air turn chilly. The once warm and inviting wind turns cold, slapping across his chapped skin like how one of Josephine’s colleagues would slap him whenever he cried about not wanting to crush metal objects with his mind or didn’t want to drink the bad tasting juice they made him drink before another experiment.

Caleb stops counting. He opens his eyes, seeing that he still remains in your childhood backyard. Everything is dead, though. Decomposed, overtaken by complete and utter decay. Rotten.

He looks down and spots his Colonel uniform on his body. He can’t move, feet cemented into the ground. No matter how hard he tries to fight against it, even trying to use his Evol to move but it doesn’t work. Tears fill his eyes as the familiar feeling of helplessness from his childhood seeps into his body. He cries out for help and looks around to see if someone — anyone — is there to help him.

A pair of hands cover his eyes from behind. He shudders under the touch. The pair of hands become wet from his tears. He closes his eyes, unable to bring himself to stare at the person who graces him with their touch.

He feels like a child all over again. Hopeless, unable to do a god damn thing to fight back against those who have hurt him so much. Caleb lets out a loud sob, his body trembling. The touch over his eyes turns warm, the feeling inviting and familiar. He keeps his eyes closed as a tingling sensation spreads across his face as their small fingers begin to wipe away his tears.

Caleb opens his eyes. Suddenly, he’s eight years old again. You stand in front of him, wearing the same navy blue dress you did when you first met him. You gently caress his face, wiping away his tears. A small, reassuring yet bittersweet smile spreads across your lips. A single tear rolls down your chubby cheek, eyes red from irritation.

“Find me,” you breathe the words out.

“What?” his voice cracks from under the pressure. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to fight away the image of your strained eyes.

When he opens them, he’s seventeen years old. You wear the outfit on the day you told him to leave you alone, a command that he should never have obeyed.

It’s his downfall…being a good soldier.

“Find me,” your voice that was one strong begins to deteriorate. Caleb feels like he’s being suffocated as his body racks over from helpless sobs.

“I can’t!” he cries out, “I’ve done everything I can!” Caleb reaches up to rub his eyes.

You stand before him in the same dress you wore on the night of the Peace Summit’s Gala. The black dress is a sight for sore eyes, something that he wished so many times that you would wear again during the happy and peaceful hours of your newfound relationship. He reaches out for the silk fabric, wishing to feel the material. His white sleeve of his Colonel uniform catches him off guard, unable to bring himself to close the distance.

“Find me, Caleb!” you raise your voice as the rain picks up, drenching your hair and outfit.

From around the corner of the house, Farspace Fleet soldiers appear. Their dark uniforms remain ominous, faces covered with pitch black goggles and the black fabric of their uniform covering the lower half of their face. Their footsteps are loud, the Colonel able to feel each and every vibration from their steps as they grow near. Caleb reaches out for you, desperate to hold on, but your arms are taken by the soldiers.

“Find me, Caleb! I’m going to die here!” you scream over the thunderous wind. Lightning strikes from a distance, the thunder rattling the bones inside of his body. “I don’t want to die! Please!”

The soldiers begin to drag you away from him. You kick and push them way, trying to fight against their forceful grasps. You gasp for air, making Caleb feel even more breathless, the Professor’s hand around his throat slowly tightening, making it impossible to breathe.

“I’m coming!” Caleb cries out, trying to force his feet to move.

He gasps, feeling as the vines from the garden curl around his ankles. The thorns push through the smoothed leather, piercing into his skin. Caleb hisses and reaches down to fight the earth as it begins to swallow him whole. He gasps, looking up as your bloodcurdling screams echo inside his ears, the sounds haunting him as his body is forced beneath the earth. Dirt and mud cover his body. A strike of lighting hits his body, forcing him deeper into the ground.

Caleb’s body jolts awake. He screams out your name. He loses control of his Evol, the living room becoming destroyed within seconds. The picture frames that once hung on the wall have fallen, the glass shattering and scattering across the floor of his living room. The television screen cracks and the ottoman that sits beside his couch flies across the room, landing near the kitchen. Pillows disperse, a few of them shredding from the sheer force and power of his Evol.

His chest rapidly rises and falls, his heart pounding on the inside of his chest, his breathing ragged, unable to fully catch it. He looks around, desperate for something that reminds him of you, to trick himself into thinking that you’re here or that you’ll be back in his arms sometime soon.

He can still hear your screams. Your pleas and cries for help.

Tears run down his face. Caleb doesn’t wipe them away and looks to the side as he tries to get his breathing back under his control.

With once glance to the side, he notices that the sun is out. The storm has passed. The sky is a remarkable shade of blue, one that he would comment on to you to try and get a smile out of you so early in the morning. His heart aches. He stands from the couch, his bare feet avoiding the remnants of shattered glass that lay across the floor.

His Colonel uniform feels heavier than usual. The corners of the metal pins on his chest are unusually sharp when he drags his finger along the edge, the metal cutting into the pad of his thumb. He doesn’t mind the pain. If anything, he deserves it.

Caleb steps through the door, slamming it behind him, leaving behind a wake of destruction that bloomed from his grief over you.

Today, things are going to change. Today, Colonel Caleb Xia is going to find you.

The day has dragged on for longer than it needed to. Caleb remains behind his glass desk, shuffling through random forms and mission reports that he quickly stamps his signature onto. The stack slowly shortens, just like the leash that the Professor has him on.

Whenever he leaves his office, he can feel the eyes of lower ranking soldiers and Adjutants on him. He pays them no mind, simply making the mental note to keep an eye on them just in case they decide to follow him and test his patience.

He wants them to follow him. He wants them to give him a reason to put them in their place, to declare them to be treasonous, to give him a reason to crush them beneath the weight of his Evol. Caleb would do anything to unleash the anger that he feels towards the Professor and Ever. He wants to avenge you for the harm that they have undoubtedly caused you. He wants them to pay with their blood, to break their bones until they are begging for mercy, for him to go easy on them.

Is that something you would want too? Will you also wish for them to pay with their bodies for all of the sins that they have committed?

Caleb’s mind wanders to you whenever he’s alone. He tries to put himself in the mindset of Professor Lucius, wondering where in the world he would tuck you away, where he’d hide you as a punishment against him.

Ever’s main base would be too risky. Caleb has been there one too many times for the Professor’s comfort, having been one of his many soldiers in the army he is slowly building. Holding you hostage in the Farspace Fleet’s administrative building is too risky as well seeing how Caleb knows the place like the back of his hand. There are other Ever bases that you could be held at, places that Caleb has visited as a child. What Caleb neglected to look at, though, are the bases that the Fleet has. A few of which that are placed conveniently close to one of Ever’s laboratories.

Caleb faintly remembers something that Josephine once told him. It was on one of the many nights in her later years, a time in which she was beginning to slowly lose her mind due to constant migraines and trips to the hospital. She was lucid one night, sitting alone in her chair as she slowly knitted a new scary for him to take back to the DAA.

Josephine stared out the window, the metal knitting needles frozen in her hands. It was a particularly cold day in Linkon. Caleb came back to help Josephine out, to shovel the snow in the driveway while she stayed inside on her day off from the Association. Caleb came back inside, hands frozen and his heart chilled by not having seen you at home.

“Caleb,” she called out to him. She barely looked in his direction, her eyes forever trained on the snow that falls from the window. Caleb approached her side, sitting in the old chair that he used to fight with her over who gets to sit in it. She usually won.

“Yes, grandma?” he spoke through gritted teeth, hating the affectionate family name. He only said it for her sake.

“Do you remember that snowy day?” Josephine’s voice is quiet, tired. She finally turns to look at him. “The Professor let the two of you go out and play in the snow as a treat for completing the job.”

The job meaning Ever killing her and forcing him to lift retired fighter jets and rusted train cars. Caleb fractured both arms from the sheer force of his Evol, the weight of the objects shattering his body. He remembers how the Professor called him broken but that it’ll be okay, that he’ll give the poor boy a second chance for her sanity.

“Yes,” he follows her gaze outside the window. Each snowflake is different, that’s a fact you told him when you partnered up for a class project.

“That place…nobody can leave it once they’re inside. You should consider yourself to be lucky.”

An ugly silence falls between them. Josephine reaches out and places her hand on his knee. It doesn’t bring him comfort.

From just outside the window, you cross by with a red scary covering the lower half of your face. You scurry across the frozen sidewalk, laughing after you almost slipped and fell. That brought him the comfort he needed.

What was Josephine trying to tell him? Was there a hint within her words or was she just spewing out crazy talk like she usually did before the house blew up?

Caleb sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He should consider himself lucky to have escaped from that place? Did Josephine not realize that she was the one who brought them there? That she is the reason for their pain and suffering as innocent children caught in a mad man’s crossfire and fucked up plans for the world?

Caleb turns to his computer. The Farspace Fleet’s logo stares back at him, the dark blue hues reminding him of the place he works at, the circumstances that he lives within. The confines of the cage are closing in on him. All he needs is a key to get out and escape so he can break you free too.

He stands from the desk, glancing at the family picture of him, her, and Josephine. His heart twists inside his chest. He should have placed a picture of you on here instead.

Caleb grabs his work laptop, one that he rarely ever uses, and places it inside his bag. He quietly exits his office, feeling no eyes or stares on him, as he begins to formulate a plan. If there is any chance that the place Josephine was speaking about still exists, then he is going to find it. He will do whatever it takes, spend however much money it will require, just so he can bring you back into his arms.

“Where are you going?” a voice says from behind him in the parking garage. Caleb places his bag into the backseat and turns around, shrugging his Colonel’s jacket off of his body. 

“Home,” Caleb’s response is short, cold. His Colonel persona quickly takes over his body, any warmth that was once stowed away and tucked beneath the confines of his skin disappeared. He stares at his Adjutant, Liam’s eyes cold and unresponsive yet there is a hint of desire behind them…a desire to help out his superior officer in his time of need.

“The General will be back today,” Liam’s voice remains monotone, dead. Caleb raises an eyebrow and rolls up his dress shirt’s sleeves. “He’ll want to see you.”

“More like me with him,” the angry comment leaves his lips before he can even think about it. Caleb sucks in a breath. Liam steps forward, a slow nod moving his head.

“Lunch made you sick,” Liam slowly speaks the words. Caleb straightens his posture, narrowing his eyes at the slightly shorter man. “You had to go home to recuperate. To be the best that you can possibly be for the Farspace Fleet.”

“The General will understand,” Caleb nods, confirming Liam’s cover story.

Caleb gets inside his car and closes the door behind him. Without looking at Liam, he drives away, speeding back to his destroyed apartment.

He sits himself down at the desk inside his bedroom. He pushes aside anything that will get in his way and opens up the laptop. He quickly logs in and moves to the Ever security database. It is something he has had access to seven months ago, but was kicked out. Since then, Caleb has been unable to get back inside the database to try and find the corporation’s files on you.

He stares at the log in page. The cursor blinks at him, slowly ticking away with every passing second. It beckons to him, your screams and cries filling his mind. Caleb swears he can hear you from down the hall but pays no attention to it, believing that it is just his mind playing stupid tricks on him. He wouldn’t even be surprised if it was a new aspect of the Toring chip inside his body, a way for the Professor to taunt him while he tirelessly searches for you.

Caleb types in his username and information. He is immediately kicked from the server, the login page staring at him once again. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, and cracks his knuckles. He loosens his tie, tossing it to the side. He glances away from the screen.

If only Josephine were alive to help him find the arctic base. Maybe then would this search finally come to an end, his pain and agony being able to rest with you back in his arms, your skin pressed against his as he protects you from the world, vowing to never let you go ever again.

Wait…Josephine. 

Caleb turns back to the computer. Although it was a little under twenty years ago that Josephine left Ever with her and Caleb tucked away in the back of a car, she still may have access to the company’s mainframe. Holding onto that small sliver of hope that flashes across Caleb’s heart, he slowly types in Josephine’s username, guessing what her password could possibly while trying to remember if she had told him about it in the past.

The damn Toring chip just had to do a number on his memories, didn’t it?

He stares at the small asterisks of the password. It’s long, yes, but everything that he has learned since living with Josephine as her perfect grandson, the spitting image of what a role model should look like before his untimely death. He sucks in a slow and deliberate breath.

The air around him turns stale. Your scent no longer lingers in the air. The rays of the sun leak into the room through hastily closed curtains, the golden light of the decaying day spread across his bedroom floor.

Caleb knows he will only have a few minutes inside the database before they recognize Josephine’s user inside the mainframe. In and out, that’s what needs to be done.

His finger hovers over the keyboard, ready to press the enter button when he hesitates again. He draws his hand back, gnawing at his bottom lip, his teeth digging in harsh enough to pull blood from his body. Caleb looks to the side, his Evol opening up a drawer. Inside sits a USB drive. He quickly inserts it into the computer, opening it up so he can download any and all files that revolve around you before he is kicked out.

His hands tremble, his breathing unsteady. Is he ready for what he’s about to see? How badly has the Professor treated you? Or have you been sitting pretty this whole time ready to be saved at any given moment?

He slowly breathes in, mentally preparing himself for the absolute worst. How will he react to the news that your body is stuffed inside some bag ready to be incinerated at any given moment?

No! He can’t think like that. He can’t afford to.

The man grabs his phone, his wallpaper lighting up. It is a photo of the two of you at your friend’s wedding. You look gorgeous in the bridesmaid dress, while he smugly smiles at your side, your purse strung over his shoulder. He sighs, focusing on the smile you wear. Your hand lays on his chest, head resting against his shoulder.

Caleb wishes he could go back into that moment and steal you away, to lock you away in the tallest building he can find so nobody can ever hurt you ever again. Only he will have the key to the door that you are hidden behind. Only he can move in and out. The rest of the world can politely ask him to see you. He’ll consider it.

He slowly exhales. He clicks the enter key and waits, watching as the database processes the login information. His heart races. His palms are clammy. He rapidly taps his foot against the bedroom floor. The small circle stares at him, his heart hoping that for the love of god it lets him in, getting him one step closer to you.

The screen goes blank. Caleb’s heart stops. The computer screen refreshes and it displays Ever’s database but from Josephine’s security clearance, one of the highest an employee can have. He gasps, fingers attaching to the laptop, and he quickly begins to navigate his way through the security system.

Caleb disregards any files about Viper or any of the other people he works with through Ever. He shifts through newer files, isolating it from the past seven months to narrow his search. Many of the reports are filled with nonsense about new diets for the team that lives on the base while others talk about upcoming research on Evols that Caleb doesn’t pay attention to. That is, until he sees a familiar number.

V-03

Caleb’s body goes numb, his blood cold. He blinks at the numbers, moving closer and closer to the main file source involving the mysterious V-03. He knows his place as X-02, and she is A-01, so who is V-03?

The deeper and deeper he moves inside the project file, the heavier his shoulders become. They begin to slouch, his eyes unable to blink or move away from the screen. Caleb quickly clicks through the folder, downloading anything and everything that he can find. The USB drive keeps up and swallows the files, making untraceable copies that will not be led back to him. He looks at the clock that blinks on the glass panel by his bed.

Three minutes have passed by. He guesses that he has about two or three left before they realize that Josephine, a phantom they killed a year ago, is haunting their security system. 

One folder in particular catches his attention. He doesn’t open it just yet, staring at the label.

Programming

He swallows the lump in his throat and downloads copies of it. His purple eyes move to another folder, quickly repeating the process as it dawns on him that he has finally found you. The file containing documents for V-03 were hidden away, only being accessible through back routes and hyperlinks imbedded into other documents. Professor Lucius is safe, Caleb knows this, and he knows just how precious you are to him. He’s going to keep you as hidden as possible yet keep you in plain sight so that it can torture Caleb with the idea that he could have found you sooner.

Two minutes quickly goes by and Caleb has downloaded everything involving V-03. It’s a long shot thinking that he has found you but with all of the clues and hidden messages with the way many of V-03’s comments have been blacked out only makes him believe that it is you, his heart aching at the thought that the Professor has made you endure the same process he did as a boy.

Caleb quickly logs out of the mainframe once he is done with little under a minute to spare. He removes the USB drive from the laptop and places it on his desk beside his personal computer. He takes the other laptop and uses his Evol to make it float the air. He inserts the USB drive into his computer while the Fleet’s laptop is slowly crushed into a small metal ball, the force of the surrounding gravity replicating the anger that simmers inside Caleb’s chest. The metal ball falls to the ground just as Caleb opens up the files about V-03, staring at the folder’s names.

Programming. Experiments. Evol. Purpose.

Caleb’s mouth goes dry. His mouse hovers over the names, sliding back and forth, unsure which one he should take a look inside first. He sighs and clicks on the folder labeled Purpose, hoping that this is the least worrying of them all.

Inside the folder sits a single document alongside a video. The video’s thumbnail is of Professor Lucius. Caleb sighs, his heart racing inside of his chest, as he clicks the video. It begins to play.

Professor Lucius enters the frame. He sits down and Caleb recognizes the office he is in. He leans closer to the screen as if it is going to transport him inside.

“The purpose of Project V is simple. The Farspace Fleet has given Ever the task of enhancing its soldiers and worker so that every single one of them will be able to fight with whatever threat it is that comes their way. The General has personally requested me to do this,” the Professor sighs, a slight smirk tugging the corner of his lips, “and he even has a participant in mind for the trial period.”

Caleb shudders. He pauses the video as a wave of nausea crashes throughout his body. Caleb suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. The smell of decay that comes from the kitchen, the way the curtains flow back and forth from the ceiling fan, and the way his leg bounces up and down as anxiety courses throughout his body. He closes his eyes, unable to stare at Professor Lucius, and presses play.

“She’s a spitfire and yet she is one of the most obedient Fleet employees I have ever met. She is strong minded and gets the job done no matter what. I have only met her a handful of times but she has proven to be the perfect mound of clay for me to mold.”

Caleb stands from the desk and rushes away. To hear Professor Lucius talk about you so casually, talking about you as if you are a toy to be played with, makes his skin crawl.

“She will be our lucky V-03, a continuation of the…failed experiments from twenty years ago,” the Professor emphasizes the word ‘failed’ with such disgust and contempt that Caleb knows it was directed at him.

Caleb is the man the Professor hasn’t been able to tame. Caleb is the soldier that disobeys orders. Caleb is the weapon that got away, that fights back against the Toring chip every chance he gets. Caleb is the man who has evaded many of the Professor’s traps. Caleb is the person that Professor Lucius wishes to tame and he is using you as his leverage.

“Experiments will begin shortly. Additionally, she will be the first test subject to receive an all new Toring Chip, one that hands full bodily autonomy to Ever and the Fleet for controlling. It will be controlled through a small tablet. We’ll be able to control her breathing, consciousness, and emotional regulation while the chip is inside her body. Whoever holds her leash is in control.”

Caleb exits the video. His fingers move at a light speed pace, moving into the folder labeled Programming.

The inside of the folder is filled with hours of footage. You sit in the center of the screen. In some thumbnails, you look tired, in other ones tears run down your cheeks, frozen in time as you cry. The last video, though? Your face is completely still and is void of all emotion.

Caleb presses the first video, a sharp pain already striking through his heart.

“Day one of programming,” the Professor’s voice is heard from behind the camera. “V-03 is uncooperative and is unwilling to accept the Toring Chip implant. We will give her one last chance to accept before we turn to…more severe consequences.”

He can hear the amusement in Professor Lucius’ voice. You sit in the center of the frame, strapped down onto a chair. Your eyes dart around the room, hands trembling from beneath the straps. Your eyes well with tears. You begin to shake your head, arms tugging against the restraints that hold you down.

“Please…” you speak out, voice quiet, fear laced throughout your tone, “I-I don’t know what I did or why I’m here but please…don’t hurt me.”

Caleb knows what your plan is. He knows exactly what it is you’re thinking int his moment. He knows that you’re trying to appeal to Professor Lucius’ humanity. The irony here is that while you think the Professor holds humanity, Caleb knows he has none. If you think that he only experiments on adults — as if that makes it humane and acceptable in the first place — what would you think when you inevitably find out that Caleb was just a baby when he was passed off to Ever?

“Will you accept the Toring Chip? Yes or no?”

“What? Why would I?” you audibly laugh, leaning back as much as you can into the metal chair, the same chair that Caleb once at in when he was just four years old. “I’ve seen what it does to people! Why would I want to do something to myself like?”

You were always so opinionated, weren’t you?

“One more chance…because I’m in a good mood.”

“No!” your voice lowers, shaking. One of the scientists in the room nears you. You try your best to wiggle away from him, fighting against the restraints. “NO! Stop! Get off of me! You can’t make me do this!”

Your screams and yells are animalistic. Your appearance is covered by the scientist’s back. Caleb’s breath gets caught in his throat.

“Please stop! Ca—” the video’s audio cuts out. All Caleb can do is watch as your body thrashes around from under the scientist’s grip, a long syringe hangs in their hand, the metal catching the light. The video abruptly ends when you kick the scientist, causing him to topple into the camera. He exits the video and opens up a document, one that has been meticulously blacked out.

Your name is blacked out of the document, erasing any trace of your true identity. To Ever, you are V-03. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Caleb scrolls through the document. His eyes widen at the horror they put you through the first day. He connects the clues through the redactions, his stomach twisting and churning.

Subject will be known as V-03. Her psychological evaluation (REDACTED). V-03 refuses to answer questions about (REDACTED). Professor Lucius stepped in. He informed her of previous experiments. When (REDACTED) is mentioned, (REDACTED) and she (REDACTED). V-03 mostly speaks of the Colonel after this.

Caleb’s breath gets caught in his throat. The Colonel… Why are you trying to save him before you save yourself?

Subject was told that she will have Toring Chip V.3.9 implanted in the base of her neck. Subject refused and became aggressive. Once sedated, subject was told that if she does not cooperate, we will  (REDACTED) and make sure he (REDACTED). Subject agrees.

He moves out of the document, brows furrows at the computer screen. Caleb glances to the side and catches a brief glance of a document that acts as an overview for the new Toring Chip.

Toring Chip V.3.9 will be implanted as the base of the subject’s neck. Toring Chip V.3.9 will not be (REDACTED).  Unlike Toring Chip V.1.3, V.3.9 will not be taken out (REDACTED). Professor Lucius says that this makes the Toring Chip permanent instead of temporary.

An unsettling feeling ferments in the bottom of Caleb’s stomach. He closes his eyes, swallowing the bitter taste that forms across his tongue. It only worsens, though, leaving him trembling. He scrolls to the next video.

You sit in the same chair with dark eye bags under your eyes. Caleb blinks away his tears. He reaches for the screen, the tips of his fingers grazing against the image of your face.

Silent tears flow down your cheeks, eyes completely dissociated as the world moves around you. A man and woman in white lab coats move about the room like they live in it. They laugh and talk about their days, their plans for the night. The man’s wife made a pot roast. The woman plans on watching a movie. You stare into the nothingness of the room, allowing them to move your body and insert various needles into your arms in the same exact spot Caleb’s were located as a kid.

He looks down at his arm, the light and faint scar mocking him. He can’t help but wonder if you’ll have the same scar once he gets you out of there.

Professor Lucius enters the room. You don’t meet his gaze. He sits in his usual chair that is placed across from you. Caleb can see his reflection in the two way mirror that is right behind you. The two scientists shut up and move behind the camera. Caleb memorizes their faces as they pass the camera, making a note to make them pay for their sins as well.

“Good morning, V-03.”

“My name is—” the audio cuts out again.

Caleb is unable to look away, unable to bring himself to breathe as he reads your lips, the way you make for sure the Professor knows your name. Through the reflection, Professor Lucius leans forward. The side of his arm slips into frame. He can’t read the Professor’s lips, but he can continue to read yours.

Caleb? You said you wouldn’t hurt him. You promised!

You jolt forward in the restraints. The Professor’s body shakes, probably laughing at your plight. Tears well in your eyes.

Don’t hurt him…please. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of this!

Caleb leans forward, his nose almost touching the screen. Oh, how he wishes that he would have been there to wipe away your tears of agony, to rip you out of the chair and away from the people who are subjecting you to such torturous methods. He clears his throat, pushing away the urge to throw up, and moves to the next document.

It is a scanned copy of Professor Lucius’ notes. His handwriting is barely legible to anyone outside of Ever but Caleb knows the special characteristics of the way he writes, having deciphered many notes from meetings and hidden messages that hid orders behind veiled threats. Caleb scrolls through the file, unable to tears his gaze off of the screen.

V-03 remains uncooperative. The chip has been implanted into her neck but she shows signs of defiance. Threats towards (REDACTED) do not work anymore. Will calling her by her name work? Or do I need to beat her into submission?

V-03 is too much like X-02. If only she were more like A-01, then we would have made more progress.

Caleb closes his eyes. He knows how much you hate being compared to her. He can’t even imagine how you would have reacted if the Professor said these words to your face. Caleb can’t help but wonder if you fought back or accepted his words as the final truth to put you in your coffin.

Moving to the next page, there are pictures of you while you’re asleep. The back of your head has been shaved, just enough space for them to insert the Toring Chip. Caleb memorized the way the stitches were sewn into your skin, the way that the Ever doctors treated you with little care seeing how the stitches were jagged and messy.

Were they taking care of you? Have the stitches been properly taken care of or did you get an infection due to lack of care?

“Good morning, V-03.”

You look tired. You’ve lost all of the extra weight in your face, your cheeks sinking into your skull. You remain dissociated as the Professor sits beside you. He wears a big puffer jacket, his breath prominent in the air, while you’re stuck in a thin hospital gown with wires and tubes connected into your arms. Caleb watches as he takes your hand, brushing the hair out of your face. There are bruises on your arms with one particularly nasty bruise across your cheekbone.

“Are you ready to cooperate?”

You don’t respond. You slowly blink, staring into nothing, eyes glazed over as the Professor straps you down into the chair. He sighs, shaking his head at you. The audio cuts out. Caleb sucks in a breath and reads the Professor’s lips.

X-02 isn’t coming to save you, V-03. He’s a broken weapon. You…you will be our saving grace.

The audio comes back to the video just as the Professor sits back in his chair beside the camera.

“V-03, it was recommended to us by psychologists to undergo the Interlinked Program so we can have your full cooperation before we begin our experimentation,” the Professor sighs. You look away, tears rolling down your eyes.

Caleb’s heart aches. Exhaustion has taken over your body. At this point in the process, which Caleb estimates to be about a month or two in, Ever makes sure that the test subject is mentally hazy, to take advantage of their weaknesses and offer a way out, a saving grace that feels like an oasis in the middle of a never ending desert.

“V-03, if you do this for us, we will make sure that you get a blanket tonight. It’s so cold out, don’t you think? Wouldn’t a blanket be nice to sleep with before your big day?”

“Please don’t hurt me,” your voice trembles through the speakers of the computer. It is just loud enough for the camera’s microphone to pick up. It sends icy daggers through Caleb’s chest.

He should have worked harder to find you. He should have flown after the plane and done what the Professor has taught him to do best: destroy things.

“Look at the screen, V-03. We are going to show you a series of images. I’ll guide you through them. The camera is going to read your body temperature and language. We have full control over your reactions. We know everything. Whenever I say interlinked, you must say it as well. Understand?”

You weakly nod.

A screen illuminates from behind the camera. A man steps into frame, moving behind you with a tool that Caleb knows. It is to adjust the Toring Chip’s functions, to tweak it to fit the soldier they have put inside of. He presses it up against your neck and you shudder, more and more tears rolling down your cheeks as you tug against the restraints.

“Let’s begin,” Professor Lucius states. He clicks a button and your face is covered in various different lights. “I’m going to tell you your baseline. Memorize it. If you don’t, you know the consequences.”

You weakly nod again.

“Your baseline is: Weeping willows decay under the scorching sun with no water to flourish. Repeat it.”

You remain quiet. The Professor sighs and snaps his fingers. A soldier walks into frame with a baton in hand. He slams it into your stomach. You cry out in pain, head rolling back. The soldier grabs your hair and movies it so you look at the screen once again.

“Say it, V-03.”

“Weeping willow decay under the scorching sun with no water to flourish.”

“Good,” Professor Lucius scribbles something into his notebook. “Have you ever been in an institution? Interlinked.”

“Interlinked.”

“A man and woman hold hands. Interlinked.”

“Interlinked.” You gulp. With a wave of the Professor’s hand, the soldier hits you again. You let out a cry, jolting around in your chair to try and get away.

“Whenever an animal is trapped, V-03, it will chew of its own leg to escape. Are you the same? Are you an animal? Interlinked.”

“Interlinked,” you breathe through word out, fear already running through your body.

Caleb closes the video, unable to watch anymore. He is in a trance, his clammy hands slipping along the keypad as he moves over to am untouched folder.

Experimentation.

Caleb sucks in a sharp breath, the chilled air of the room making his lungs tingle, feeling so dead yet so alive. It is the bulkiest folder with thousands of documents as well as hundreds of videos.

You lay on a table completely naked with tubes moving in and out of your body. The camera is set to the side, your appearance hidden behind doctors in lab coats and scrubs. You look to the side, the terror and pain flickering across your eyes as they begin to tear into you.

Caleb remembers this feeling. He remembers being awake for every experiment and modification they made on his body. They numbed him so he wouldn’t be able to move or feel agonizing pain. He could still feel the drag of the scalpel into his skin, the way his flesh was sliced into with such ease as Ever modified his arm.

You look as if you want to scream out, to cry for help. You can’t do any of it. Caleb wishes he were in your place instead. He would undergo hundreds of more experiments if it meant that you wouldn’t have been touched by the Professor’s plans.

He opens up a new video. Professor Lucius sits in the center of the video, sitting inside his office with a look of determination and sadistic satisfaction written on his face. He clears his throat as he settles into his seat, shrugging off his jacket before tossing it away.

“Our mission here at Ever is to push the human race to its fullest potential. We want to make life easier for mankind, wanting it to thrive and flourish with no obstacles in our way. The way I see it, despite all of the technological advances that we have seen in the world, we are still in a Stone Age. With the growing population of Evolvers, I can’t help but think to myself if there is a way to gift the same abilities to normal people. V-03’s DNA sequence is unique. She, like many other people, possess the DNA sequence needed to become and Evolver. It just…needs to wake up.”

To wake up? What is he talking about? Caleb thinks to himself. Chills run down his spine. The place where his Toring Chip sits tingles. His arms vibrate, his Evol having a mind of its own, his bones rattling underneath the flesh and muscles of his arm.

“What happens when we push he human body to brink of death? To stress it out so much that the body is forced to ignite the DNA needed to evolve in real time. V-03 will be the first of her kind if this hypothesis proves to be true.”

Images of you on the medical table flashes through his head. Caleb winces, closing his eyes as he tries to fight off the images of Professor Lucius digging into your chest, grabbing your beating heart into his hand, squeezing it to get you to squeal. Caleb can see the smile on the man’s face, the sadism of his actions giving him immeasurable pleasure as you wither beneath his touch.

The next video begins to play.

“V-03 will undergo beatings and lacerations as the first step of her Evolver process. The Toring Chip will send shocks throughout her body when she is about to pass out to keep her awake to prolong the process.”

The video ends and the next one begins.

You lay on the ground, your sobs curdling Caleb’s blood as soldiers beat you with their batons, kicking you with their metal toed boots. He watches as you tremble, crying out for them to stop — to have mercy on you — but they don’t let up. They continue their kicks before Professor Lucius calls them away like dogs. You shiver. You’re curled up into a ball, protecting your stomach as you cough up blood, face beaten beyond recognition.

“Your baseline, V-03,” the Professor calls out.

“Weeping willow decay under the scorching sun with no water to flourish,” you speak between coughs.

“An animal needs to be beaten into submission. Interlinked.”

“Interlinked.”

The video ends.

“V-03 shows signs of Evolving. Her Evol is special. Health regeneration. We’re going to push further to see just how far we can take it.”

Caleb opens up a file filled with countless photos. He thanks whatever higher power there is for sparing him from hearing your pained cries and begs for them to stop hurting you. Seeing them, though? He wishes he could go blind.

He shuffles through images of you with various wounds. A knife dragging along your arm. A torch being held against the flesh of your stomach, burning you. In another photo, you’re laying on the ground with multiple bloodied spots on your body, presumably where you’ve been shot multiple times.

Caleb can feel the phantom pains of the small metal bullets digging into his skin. His skin burns. His breathing grows heavy as he continues to see what they have done to you.

“V-03 cannot die. We can slice her neck and she will go unconscious, her heart still beats, but her brain activity shows that she is still alive and is…asleep. We cannot figure out where her consciousness goes if it is a dreamlike state or if she is truly just asleep. Her heart is her weak spot. If that stops beating, then she will die. V-03 also shows signs of being able to heal others with her touch. She has Evolved far beyond our expectations.”

Professor Lucius hesitates when he speaks. He rubs his eyes and turns back to the camera. A small smile graces his face. He’s finally reached his victory.

“We plan on showing the General this in a month. A showcase of our progress of the toy he has gifted to us. He deserves to see how we have molded his soldier into something…remarkable. With her DNA, we can figure out how to change the sequences of others. We will help make unstoppable soldiers for the Farspace Fleet and for the world.”

A phone rings from the other room.

Caleb slams the laptop shut. He shudders, body uncontrollably shaking. He pushes away from the desk, tears freely flowing from his eyes while his heart remains still. He exits his bedroom. His motions are calculated and careful. He enters an office that sits just at the end of the hall, a space where the two of you decided to have Fleet business happen whenever either of you brought work home.

Caleb sits in one of the chairs, grabbing the ringing phone, and brings it to his ear.

“Colonel Xia,” Liam’s voice is low from the other end of the call. “Professor Lucius has invited you to an Ever Group meeting as the General’s temporary Adjutant.”

please drop a like, reblog, & comment!! i love see what you all have to say <3

i <3 commenters

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

— Borrowed time, part 5

‼️Caleb x reader x Sylus. Reader not MC. University AU. Modern AU. Angst angst angst!

Everyone knows Caleb is in love with MC. Everyone. Including you. But that does not stop him from flirting with you, teasing you, keeping you close. And it definitely does not stop you from falling for him—even when you know you’re just a stand-in, a place holder.

“I bet you still thought of me.”

song: party 4 u by charlie xcx [this song has been the main inspiration for this series, so whatever you feel listening go this song, i hope you’ll feel that while reading this series as well]

word count = 9.6k

i appreciate all likes, comments, reblogs, and asks. i may not reply to all of them, but i want you to know that i reread them over and over <3

i cant say im proud of this chapter, and tbh theres so much i hate about this part, but if i dont post this right now, i dont think i ever will, so please be kind, but i appreciate constructive criticisms! if this part felt unsatisfactory, just pretend this update didnt happen lol

ps. thank you so much for over 1k followers??? heres a thousand roses for all of you 😭🌹

part 1 | masterlist

The door creaks open.

The closet’s darkness slips away, replaced by blinding light and loud cheers.

But everything feels distant.

Your breaths are shallow. The warmth of his breath still clings to your skin, the ghost of his lips a lingering echo. His touch—still branded into your waist, your jaw, the hollow between your ribs. Your pulse hasn’t settled.

The air outside is cool, but your skin burns.

You stumble slightly as you step out, Sylus behind you—his shirt rumpled, one button undone. His silver hair is tousled, a little too messy. Your lips sting. You know you look wrecked.

And the crowd eats it up. Whoops and whistles explode around you.

You try to smile. You try to breathe.

But then your eyes land on him.

Caleb.

He’s across the room, half-lit by the cheap string lights, drink forgotten in his hand. His jaw is tight, his expression unreadable—except for his eyes.

They are cold.

Piercing.

It’s not anger. It’s like he’s looking right through you—like you’ve somehow ruined something sacred. Like you’re the disappointment.

Your chest tightens.

And then, just behind him, you catch a flash of movement.

MC.

Her head is down, hair shielding her face, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she brushes past him, shouldering her way through the crowd.

Caleb snaps out of his trance in a heartbeat. His face shifts—concern overtaking scorn—as he calls after her and follows without hesitation.

And just like every time before, he doesn’t even spare you a second glance.

The cheers fade into static. Laughter turns tinny and distant, swallowed by the ringing in your ears.

It hits you all at once.

The heat. The mess. The press of Sylus’s body against yours. The way you leaned into it. The way you wanted to. The way you let yourself.

And then��MC’s face. Her voice. Her smile when she told you he’s kinda cute, isn’t he?

Guilt slams into you like a car.

It punches the breath from your lungs.

You feel it in your throat, acidic and raw, threatening to spill. A sickening twist coils in your stomach, bile licking at the edges of your tongue.

What have you done?

What did you just let happen?

Your skin crawls. The warmth you felt seconds ago now feels wrong—disgusting. It clings to you like smoke. Like shame.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold in the nausea curling up your chest.

Sylus says something beside you, low and teasing, but you don’t catch the words.

All you can hear is your own blood rushing in your ears.

And all you can feel is the weight of what you’ve just done. The taste of it. Bitter. Burning.

And the worst part?

You don’t even know who you’re more disgusted with—Caleb…

Or yourself.

You don’t wait for the whispers.

You don’t wait to see if MC turns back or if Caleb says anything at all.

You push through the crowd, pulse hammering in your throat, lungs clawing for air like there’s not enough oxygen in the room, not enough space in your ribs for this many feelings, this much shame.

The door slams shut behind you but it’s not enough.

Not enough to drown out the ghost of Sylus’s hands still on your waist. Not enough to erase the memory of his mouth against yours, hot and unbothered and too real.

Not enough to wipe away the scowl in Caleb’s eyes or the way MC couldn’t even look at you.

The night is too loud. The world is too close. Everything—everything—is pressing in on you.

So you push everything out of your way, scouring to find air.

You don’t think, don’t breathe, just bolt down the steps of the villa, sandals slapping against stone, the wind catching in your hair, stinging your eyes, stealing your balance. You don’t care.

The beach calls to you like a goddamn siren.

You trip onto the sand, knees buckling, breath shaking, heart feral in your chest like it’s trying to break out and leave you behind. You tear your heels off, toss them somewhere you’ll never find again, and march straight toward the water like it might wash you clean.

The ocean crashes louder than your thoughts.

Salt fills your nose. Wind tangles in your hair. The stars above are too bright, mocking. Too calm for the storm splitting your insides apart.

You drop to your knees at the shoreline, water licking at your calves, seeping into your clothes, and you let it. You need it. You need the cold. You need the sting. You need to feel something real.

Because everything in your chest is twisted. Twisted and wrong and out of place.

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against your knees, breathing like each inhale might keep you from unraveling completely. You wish it were just the alcohol. Just a mistake. Just a hazy memory you could laugh off tomorrow.

But you remember it too clearly.

His mouth. The weight of his gaze in the dark. The way his hand didn’t hesitate when it slid against your jaw, when he leaned in like he’d been waiting to taste you all night.

And you let him.

Worse—you wanted it.

The thought turns your stomach. You dig your fingers deeper into the wet sand, nails scraping at the earth, like maybe you can bury the part of you that’s smiling.

Because she’s there.

Somewhere inside you—beneath the nausea, beneath the shame—there’s a version of you curled up, smug and satisfied. A version who watched MC’s face twist, who watched Caleb’s scowl turn cold, and felt nothing but satisfaction.

That part of you is smiling.

You hate her.

Because that part of you—the one that enjoyed it—she’s been quiet for a long time. Always biting her tongue, always watching from the corners while MC took the spotlight, while Caleb gave his warmth to someone else. You taught her to wait. To be kind. To be better.

But god, you’re tired.

Tired of twinkling for people who never look up long enough to see you. Tired of being loved only in parts—when you’re easy, when you’re quiet, when you’re beautiful and harmless.

You’ve always been the supporting character in everyone else’s story. The best friend. The comic relief. The tragic footnote.

So tonight, you wanted to be the villain.

So tonight, she let herself out.

You let her kiss him.

You let her drag Sylus into that closet and tilt your chin up with a smile that begged “ruin me if you want to.”

And she did.

Now here you are, buried in the sand and sea, trying to figure out if the guilt eating at you is heavier than the satisfaction still curling at the edge of your lips.

You’re not supposed to feel this way.

You’re not supposed to want to be seen like that. Wanted like that.

Not at the cost of MC. Not at the cost of Caleb’s crumbling expression.

But you do.

You wanted them to see. You wanted to be wanted. And for a second—you finally were.

And for that, you are repenting your sins, kneeling by the shore and letting the cold eat you whole.

The tide rushes in again, crashing against your skin.

You raise your head, throat raw, eyes burning.

You sit there, watching the waves hit and retreat, over and over, counting the sparkling stars reflected on the ocean surface, until you could not feel your feet.

This is your way of atoning—because you fear the girl curled up inside you, biting on her nails every time a tear threatens to fall. Because the damage she has done once you let her out for a fraction of a moment is irreversible. Collateral.

And because you can’t promise this will be the last time you let her out.

You finally return to your room, dread curling tight in your chest like a vice. Each step down the hallway feels heavier than the last, your body moving on autopilot, mind spiraling with possibilities.

You hesitate at the door. Fingers resting on the knob. You aren’t sure what you’re bracing for.

An angry Michaela?

A tear-streaked Michaela?

A cold, distant Michaela who won’t even look you in the eye?

You don’t know which would be worse.

The knob turns with a quiet click, the door creaking open. You take a breath—slow, bracing—and step inside.

Empty.

The room is quiet. Still.

Her suitcase remains tucked in the corner. A half-drunk bottle of water sits on the bedside table. The lights are off, the curtains drawn. Not a trace of her. Not even the ghost of footsteps.

Somehow, it’s worse than yelling.

You stand there for a moment, motionless, caught in the heavy weight of nothingness.

Then your phone buzzes.

MC [02:46 AM]: Had to clear my head. Be back later.

Short. Punctuated. Not cold, but definitely not warm either.

And with that, you’re left alone.

Surrounded by silence.

Sinking into it.

You sit on the edge of the bed, heart thrumming against your ribs.

You should feel relieved.

You grip the edge of the mattress tighter.

You should be thankful the confrontation didn’t happen yet.

But all you feel is this crawling unease.

Like the silence is just the eye of the storm.

And when she comes back—

You’re not sure which version of Michaela you’ll meet.

And worse—you’re not sure which version of you she’ll find.

You get changed and crawl under the covers, body heavy, soul heavier. The silence is your only companion—thick, choking, unforgiving. You bury yourself into the blankets like they could shield you from the weight of what you’ve done.

Eventually, exhaustion drags you under.

•

Rustling wakes you.

Sharp. Precise. Intentional.

You blink your eyes open, and there she is.

Michaela.

Her back turned to you.

Her suitcase is open on the floor, half-filled. Clothes folded with a neatness that feels hostile.

You sit up slowly, throat dry.

She doesn’t look at you, nor say a word.

You rise. Move toward your side of the room. Get ready in silence. The kind of silence that screams.

Every breath feels wrong. Every second, guilt crawls further up your throat, pressing, choking, aching.

You swallow hard, then try to break the weight as you part your mouth to speak.

Your voice is quiet. Fragile.

“Michaela… last night, I—”

Michaela freezes for only a second before she turns around, face already wearing a smile that feels too sharp, too bright.

“Was such a blast! You gotta tell me all about what happened in that closet!” She winks.

“No—I—”

“Don’t think too deeply into it!” She waves her hand casually, like you’d just brought up a funny memory from a party instead of the reason her bag is half-packed. She lets out a breathy laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s college, Yn. People kiss like, all the time. It’s nothing.” Her face drops slightly, but returns back to its beaming state. She reaches for your hands, and her voice lowers down. “It’s just a kiss, isn't it?”

A pause.

“Y-yeah,” you utter.

Her face beams once more as she squeezes your hands. “Besides, he is a pretty good kisser, isn’t he?”

You stare at her. The smile she’s wearing is dazzling—carefully crafted, practiced.

But it doesn’t reach her eyes.

And that hurts more than if she’d screamed at you.

The silence that follows is unbearable.

Eventually, the two of you gather the last of your things and leave the room. You walk side by side, the air between you tight with everything unsaid.

Outside, everyone is saying their goodbyes. Laughter, hugs, last-minute selfies. But none of it touches you. Not really.

You spot Caleb near the car, arms crossed, jaw tight.

He shifts his weight, arms crossed, leaning against the car with that infuriatingly calm expression—like he’s been waiting to deliver a blow.

“Well, well,” he drawls, eyes dragging over your form. “Eventful night, huh?”

You freeze mid-step.

His tone is light, teasing, even laced with that familiar cocky lilt—but it cuts deeper than any insult. Because you know Caleb. You know exactly when he means it. When the smile on his face is just another weapon.

“Hope he was worth the show,” he adds with a smirk. You can’t quite get a read on his face, can’t really understand whether the smirk is teasing, jabbing, or insulting.

You don’t answer. You can’t. So you walk past him without a word.

But he’s not done.

He leans in just slightly, voice dropping low enough for only you to hear:

“I bet you still thought of me.”

It hits you like a slap. You don’t flinch. You don’t give him that satisfaction. But it scorches down your spine, curling into something heavy and sour in your stomach.

All words run dry in your throat.

Because you know you did, and he knows you did.

So, swallowing down the lump in your throat, you quietly climb into the car.

The ride back is a void—quiet and cold despite the sun that floods through the windows.

Michaela sits in the front, headphones in, eyes fixed outside. Her expression is unreadable, a delicate mask of serenity.

Caleb drives in silence, but the tension in his body betrays him.

His knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. The muscle in his jaw ticks every time the car slows.

And yet—despite everything—you still see the way his hand occasionally reaches over to Michaela’s thigh. Subtle. Familiar. He squeezes gently, reassuringly, every time the silence grows too loud.

You sit in the backseat, hands clenched in your lap, stomach churning, heart clawing at your ribcage.

Because somehow, in this cramped little car filled with silence and ghosts, you still feel like the one who doesn’t belong.

•

You finally find yourself back in your familiar space.

The door clicks shut behind you.

Shoes off. Bag down. Keys tossed on the counter.

The silence wraps around you, soft and undemanding.

For the first time in days, you breathe without pretending.

You shower, letting the water scald the memory of Michaela’s laugh off your skin.

You eat something. Actual food. Not alcohol. Not regret.

And for a brief, flickering moment, you start to feel okay again.

Until your phone pings.

A message.

Unknown [6:43 PM]: So?

You freeze.

Every part of you stills—except for your heart, which begins to pound like it remembers the thing you’ve tried so hard to forget since last night.

Something forbidden.

Something thrilling.

Something wrong.

The memory comes back in flashes as guilt claws its way up your throat, hot and unrelenting. It tastes like shame.

You stare at the screen until the words blur.

And then, with trembling hands, you type.

You [6:50 PM]: It was a mistake.

You [6:50 PM]: Don’t text me again.

You hit send before you can think twice.

Your phone slips from your grip, landing face-down on the bed as you bury your face in your hands.

“It was a mistake,” you mumbled.

•

The following days were the most peaceful ones you’ve had in what felt like forever—quiet, slow, and mercifully uneventful. No parties. No whispered gossip. No sharp glances from Caleb or strained smiles from Michaela. Just the soft hum of routine and the space to finally breathe.

You sleep more. Eat better. Enjoying the lasts of your break. You’re rebuilding yourself piece by piece—one uneventful morning at a time.

But the moment you start feeling a little more like yourself, Monday catches up.

The quiet comfort of the break ends the second your feet hit campus tiles. The world spins forward like nothing ever happened.

Michaela acts like nothing ever happened.

She greets you with the same bright smile, the same light giggle, the same affectionate bump of the shoulder. As if that night was just another one of many forgettable college party blurs. As if your lips had never touched Sylus’s. As if her eyes hadn’t dulled the second they landed on you.

And you pretend too.

Because it’s easier that way. Safer.

Later that day, she loops her arm through yours as you walk out of class, swinging your hands between you. “Let’s go shopping after lectures? I need a new outfit or something for the first viewing next week,” she beams.

You nod before you can think too hard about it.

“Oh—” she adds, with that little flicker in her voice that always precedes something calculated, “I invited Caleb too.”

Your smile doesn’t falter, but your stomach twists.

The shopping trip is tolerable at best. Michaela slips into her spotlight with ease—twirling in front of mirrors, holding up dresses with playful pouts, laughing just a bit too loud at jokes that don’t quite land. Caleb sticks close, fingers brushing her waist, whisper her ear when she grins too hard.

But his eyes wander.

You catch him sometimes, gaze flicking to you when Michaela isn’t looking. Just for a second. Just enough to leave that same sour taste in your throat.

You don’t acknowledge it.

You can’t.

Instead, you smile when Michaela pulls you into the dressing room with her. You nod when Caleb asks if you’re tired. You pretend not to notice how her laugh dims a little when he lingers by your side for too long. You go through the motions—lift the hangers, compliment the colors, offer the safe, neutral opinions you’ve mastered so well.

It’s like muscle memory now. Playing your role.

Because if you don’t look too hard, you can almost believe this is normal. That nothing’s changed. That your mouth hadn’t betrayed you. That your silence wasn’t stitched from guilt.

By the time the sun dips below the skyline and the three of you step out of the store, bags in hand and feigned joy in your lungs, you feel wrung out—drained from smiling too much and meaning none of it.

Caleb says something—something teasing, probably—and Michaela laughs like a girl in love.

You stay a step behind them, clutching your bag a little too tightly.

You tell yourself it’s fine.

You tell yourself you deserve this.

Because in this triangle of careful lies and quiet betrayals—

You’re the one who kissed the wrong boy.

And you were the one who almost said yes again.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Michaela says, as if it just came to her. “You have to come to the premiere next month.”

You blink. “The… premiere?”

She grins. “The film. The one we shot over break? We’re doing a small screening—kind of like a soft launch—for friends and crew.” She swings her shopping bags absentmindedly. “It’s just this tiny old theatre on 12th. Indie vibes, red velvet seats, ancient projector that might burst into flames halfway through—super charming.”

You force a smile. “Sounds cute.”

“You’ll come, right?” she says, looking at you over the rim of her cup. “I already told them to save you a seat.”

You hesitate—but not long enough for her to notice. “Sure.”

She beams. “Perfect.” Then, casually: “Sylus will be there too. I made sure he’d come.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the straps of your bag.

“Made sure?” you echo, trying to keep your tone even.

Michaela shrugs, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes—the kind that always means she’s saying more than she lets on. “Yeah! I’ve been seeing him pretty frequently these days. Bumped into him a few times after the shoot… had coffee once or twice. He’s actually really funny when he’s not being all mysterious and broody.”

“Oh,” Caleb joins, light and amused. “Him. Great. Can’t wait to hear him brood about cinematography or whatever the hell it is he does.”

Michaela laughs, linking her arm with yours again. “Be nice. He’s actually been really helpful lately.”

“Helpful,” Caleb echoes, quirking a brow as he pops the lollipop from his mouth. “Didn’t realize mysterious bad boys were part of the crew now.”

“He’s not a ‘bad boy’,” she says, rolling her eyes.

She says it lightly, but there’s a deliberate lilt in her voice—a softness, almost flirtatious.

Your grip on your bag tightens, the fabric biting into your fingers.

You nod once, slow. “Didn’t know you two were close.”

She hums. “We’re getting there.”

Then, with a coy smile: “He asked a lot about you, though. Thought that was cute.”

Your chest constricts. The air feels thinner somehow.

“Anyway,” she says, skipping in front and spinning to fully face you, “it’s going to be such a fun night. You should wear that black slip dress—the one you wore to Jenna’s party? You looked so good in that.”

And all you could mutter in response was a short hum along with a smile.

•

The following days were as normal as they could’ve been. Well, aside from the fact that he has suddenly been everywhere.

At first, it was subtle.

A glimpse of him through the glass-paneled door of the editing lab, leaning over a student’s shoulder.

The sound of his voice drifting down the hallway—low, smooth, impossible to mistake.

Then you saw him again, this time in the courtyard. Talking to a group from the business department, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a coffee he barely drank from.

Word spread quickly.

“I thought he took most of his classes online?” someone whispered nearby.

“He does. No one ever sees him around.”

“Then why’s he here now?”

“Who knows? Maybe to complete his last courses before graduation?”

“He’s a business major, right?”

“Yeah, but like… old money business. Scary smart. The kind that makes you nervous to breathe too loud.”

You kept your head down, but your pulse never quite stayed still.

Because every time you caught sight of him, he never once looked your way—

And yet, you felt his presence like it was stitched into the fabric of your day.

He was too composed. Too polished. Too calculated.

And somehow, his silence was louder than if he’d cornered you outright.

“Just a mistake,” you mumble to yourself each time you see his figure waltz by.

But your quiet whispers to calm your nerves didn’t prove to be a very sustainable method.

Not when the universe seems hellbent on rubbing it in.

You see them together.

Once in the corridor outside the media building—her laugh echoing off the walls, his hand casually in his pocket, head tilted down to hear her better. They walk side by side, their pace easy, unhurried.

Michaela looks effortless next to him—bright-eyed, golden, her hand brushing his arm as she says something that makes him smile.

Not his usual smirk. Not the quiet, condescending curve of his mouth he wore like armor.

You stop in your tracks.

Just for a second.

Long enough for Michaela to spot you.

She waves. Cheerful. Unbothered. “Hey babe!”

He followed her gaze and landed on you. The smile on his lips curls up a little higher as you meet his eyes.

“Hello,” amusement coats his voice.

“Hi—”

“I’m probably not going to be free today for our usual hangouts,” Michaela cuts in, turning to you with an apologetic pout. “I asked Sylus to help with some of my work… You can hang out with Caleb by yourself, right?”

Before you can answer, she adds with a dramatic sigh, “Please tell him to chill and that I’m fine—just really busy. He’s been blowing up my phone non-stop these days.”

You force a smile, nodding once. “Yeah. Of course.”

She beams, already tugging Sylus further down the hall.

He casts one last glance your way.

A flicker of something in his eyes—teasing, sharp, unreadable.

As soon as you’re left standing there, caught in the space between their footsteps and your silence, your phone buzzes.

You glance down,

Caleb [4:28 PM]: where are you

Caleb [4:28 PM]: arent we having dinner today

Caleb [4:28 PM]: are you with her? she’s not answering my texts

Your stomach tightens.

You can still hear Michaela’s laughter fading around the corner, Sylus’s low voice murmuring something back.

Caleb [4:29 PM]: nvm

Caleb [4:29 PM]: i’ll find you myself

You don’t even remember agreeing to it.

One minute you’re reading Caleb’s texts with a pit in your stomach, the next he’s striding up to you outside the lecture hall—jaw tense, eyes scanning over your shoulder like he’s half-expecting Michaela to appear.

“She’s with him, isn’t she?” he asks, no greeting, voice clipped.

You blink. “Caleb—”

His expression shifts. He exhales, scrubs a hand through his hair, and forces a smile.

“Whatever,” he says, eyes softening as they settle on you. “Doesn’t matter. You’re here.”

And just like that, the edge in his voice fades.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your shoulder. “I’m starving. Let’s go grab something before I start chewing my own arm off.”

You hesitate for half a second, but he’s already walking ahead, glancing back to make sure you follow.

•

Dinner ends up being at this tiny place tucked behind the arts building—warm lighting, mismatched chairs, the kind of quiet hum that makes everything feel a little softer.

You sit across from him, arms tucked against your chest, still a little shell-shocked from everything.

He notices.

“You’ve been doing that thing again,” he says between bites. “Where your brain goes somewhere else and forgets to take your body with it.”

You snort. “And what thing are you doing right now?”

He leans back, exaggeratedly smug. “Being charming and irresistible, obviously.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth lifts. Just a little.

When your food arrives, he pushes his plate toward you with a quiet, “Try this. It’s better than yours.”

You glance at him, suspicious. “You haven’t even tasted mine.”

He grins. “Exactly. That’s how confident I am.”

It’s silly. Stupid, even. But it helps. The knot in your chest loosens just enough to let a small laugh slip out.

And then—just as you’re mid-bite—his voice softens.

“Hey.”

You look up.

His eyes are steady now. No teasing. No act.

“I never really got the chance to say it properly,” he murmurs. “About what happened at the filming set. That night. Everything.”

The clinking of cutlery fades around you.

“I was inconsiderate,” he says. “I thought too little. Acted too harsh. ”

He looks down at his hands for a moment. “I overlooked your feelings. And I hurt you more than I meant to.”

You don’t know what to say.

So you just watch him as he finally lifts his gaze again, softer now. Warmer.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry.”

The air between you stills.

“Can’t say I really enjoyed the stunt you pulled though,” he jokes.

The dinner continues quietly—less heavy now, more like the old rhythm you used to share with him. Caleb cracks a few jokes, pokes fun at your serious face, and makes exaggerated guesses about the lives of people at nearby tables. You end up laughing more than you expected to.

Then, as you gather your things to leave, he tilts his head toward you with a mischievous glint.

“One drink?” he asks. “There’s this quiet place nearby. They make the worst cocktails I’ve ever had in my life. Thought you’d like it.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds irresistible.”

He grins. “Exactly.”

The bar turns out to be this cozy hole-in-the-wall tucked behind a bookstore, dimly lit with string lights that look like they’ve been up since 2003. There’s an old piano in the corner no one plays, and the bartender greets Caleb like he’s a regular—which is both comforting and mildly concerning.

The music’s soft. The booths are deep and worn-in. And somehow, the world feels smaller here.

Caleb orders for both of you, raising a brow at you across the table. “Just trust me.”

You don’t. But you drink it anyway.

“You’re smiling,” he points out, pleased with himself.

You arch a brow. “Must be the worst cocktail I’ve ever had in my life.”

He lifts his glass. “To consistent branding.”

You clink glasses, laughter warm between you.

The kind of warmth that sneaks up on you—gentle, nostalgic, easy.

And then, somewhere between the second and third drink, he leans back, eyes softer now, his playful edge melting at the corners.

“You know,” he starts, swirling what’s left of his drink. “I don’t really remember what my parents look like anymore.”

You glance over at him.

“You don’t talk about your family much,” you say gently.

He lets out a breath. It could’ve been a laugh.

“Don’t really have one,” he says. “Not really.”

He lifts the glass to his lips, but doesn’t drink. Just rests it there, like he needs something to hold on to.

“Thankfully, Michaela’s took me in,” he continues. “Thankfully…” he repeats, quieter this time.

Your mood sours from the mention of her name. Of course she would be mentioned.

“She has always been sick since she was a kid. ‘Cause of her bad heart.”

You stay quiet. Let him keep going.

Something in his voice says he needs to.

“It’s always been my responsibility to keep her safe,” he says, almost like he’s reminding himself. “Since we were kids.”

His fingers drum against the glass, slow and steady, like a heartbeat.

“And whenever I failed to do so… well…” he trails off, then smiles, a crooked, breathy thing that doesn’t touch his eyes. “It never really ended very well.”

You feel the weight of those words, the way he tries to tuck pain into them like they’re just another part of the joke.

“He used to remind me constantly… of my purpose…” Caleb mumbles, his voice slowing, slurring slightly. His words are slipping like his grip on the glass—loose, tired, too worn down to hold on.

You watch his eyes begin to dim, heavy with drink and something much older.

“You’re too drunk, Caleb,” you say softly, reaching out to steady the glass before it tips.

He blinks at you. Slow. Dazed. And then his lips part, just barely.

“That I’m just a stray…” he whispers, almost to himself. “If no one needs me…”

His gaze unfocuses for a moment. You don’t think he even realizes he’s still speaking.

Your breath catches.

He’s still smiling, faintly, lazily. But it’s the kind of smile that scourches your chest.

You slide your hand across the table, fingers brushing his. He doesn’t move.

“You should go home,” you murmur.

He doesn’t answer. Just leans further into his folded arms, the tension in his shoulders finally giving out.

You sigh, quietly.

The bar is warm, the night colder. And somehow, without much thought, you find yourself wrapping his arm around your shoulder, whispering half-hearted complaints as you half-drag, half-guide him out the door.

•

The days fly by like leaves lifted off the branches.

Nothing of the past has ever been mentioned ever again—the few days at the film set, the tense atmosphere between you and Michaela, nor the night Caleb slumped into your shoulder, murmuring half-truths through the haze of cheap liquor and old pain.

Classes resume. Group chats return to life. The cafeteria starts serving that awful tomato soup again. You slip back into the rhythm like nothing happened.

But the cracks are still there—just beneath the surface, waiting.

You’re sitting under the shade of a banyan tree behind the humanities building. It’s quiet, peaceful, a little breezy. Your lunch is balanced on your lap, half-eaten. Michaela plops down beside you with a soft “ugh” and a dramatic stretch.

“God,” Michaela says brightly, appearing at your side like she always does—seamlessly, like a breath of perfume. “He’s actually so funny once you get him to talk.”

You glance at her. “Who?”

She tilts her head, playful. “Sylus,” she says, drawing the name out. “He’s been helping me prep for the Q&A tomorrow. Said I needed to sound less ‘pageant’ and more ‘visionary.’ Whatever that means.”

Her laugh is breezy. Too light.

“Oh?” you respond, forcing a smile. “Sounds like you’re getting close.”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” she says quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Coffee here, late-night notes there. He’s just so…” She trails off, eyes sparkling. “Interesting, don’t you think?”

You hum. Noncommital.

Michaela doesn’t seem to notice—or pretends not to.

She takes a sip of her drink, then suddenly perks up. “Oh! The premiere’s this Saturday. Are you ready?”

You blink. “Ready for…?”

“The spotlight, duh,” she grins, nudging your arm. “To see yourself on screen, see the scenes you played in come together with the background music. And to see your name in the closing credit!”

You roll your eyes, but it makes you smile. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is,” she insists. “You looked amazing, even in the trailer. You carried that café scene.”

You snort. “I said four words.”

“Yeah, but you felt those four words. I almost cried.”

You laugh together, and for a second—it feels real. Familiar. Like the last few weeks never happened.

“Have you picked an outfit yet?” she asks between bites of salad.

You shake your head. “Was just gonna wear something simple.”

Michaela gasps. “No. You’re not walking into an indie theater full of film nerds in ‘something simple.’ You have to look effortless. Like you’re not trying, but also like… if you were trying, you’d end worlds.”

You glance at her, raising a brow. “That specific, huh?”

“Always,” she says, eyes sparkling.

And for a moment, it’s just the two of you.

Two girls beneath a tree, laughing about dresses and dumb film boys and the weight of appearances.

It feels soft. Safe. Like how things used to be.

And it hits you with a quiet ache.

Because even now, part of you still wants to believe this friendship can survive what’s been done.

That maybe you haven’t already burned the bridge.

That maybe—just maybe—she hasn’t noticed the match in your hand.

The rest of the week passes in quiet, deliberate steps.

Classes blur. The campus grows louder, buzzing with exams and end-of-semester deadlines. Your name gets tagged once or twice in the group chat—reminders about call times, wardrobe, a blurry meme of someone joking about crying during the Q&A.

You try on outfits with Michaela after class, like you promised.

It’s surprisingly normal—her room filled with scattered hangers, half-empty iced coffees, the faint sound of a playlist humming from her speaker.

You laugh. You bicker. You twirl.

And then—Saturday arrives.

The day of the premiere.

It’s just past golden hour when you step out of your building, the sky painted in soft streaks of lavender and orange. The air is crisp. The kind that wakes you up and reminds you something’s about to happen.

The old theatre on 12th is just as Michaela described it—small, a little run-down, with velvet seats that creak and a marquee that flickers every other letter.

There’s already a crowd forming outside. Film kids in too-large blazers and thrifted dresses, professors dressed semi-formal but too cool to act like it, and the crew—all wide-eyed and excited, passing around programs and laughter.

The theater glows in the soft spill of marquee lights, buzzing faintly overhead as you approach, clutching your clutch tighter than necessary.

The car pulls up just as you step onto the red-carpeted pavement.

And then you see her.

Michaela steps out first, the silk of her silver dress catching the light like water. It slips over her frame effortlessly—cool-toned and reflective, like moonlight turned human. Her lips are painted a soft coral, her eyes dusted with shimmer, and her smile—bright, unbothered, breathtaking—lands like a punch to the chest.

Then comes Caleb.

He unfolds from the car in slow, unhurried movements, sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled neatly to his elbows beneath a tailored blazer, the collar unbuttoned just enough to suggest trouble. His hair is slicked back, not too perfect, and a hint of cologne catches the air as he leans slightly toward Michaela, saying something close to her ear.

You feel it instantly—the pull. The heat.

They look like they stepped off a magazine spread. Like they’re here to be looked at. Owned it. Earned it.

Your stomach twists.

But then her eyes find yours.

“Yn!” Michaela beams the second she sees you, waving you over like the oldest friend in the world. Her voice cuts through the crowd with effortless warmth. “You look stunning! Oh my God!”

You force a smile, walking toward her as she reaches out and takes your hand for a brief spin. “See? I told you that dress was the one. Absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” you murmur.

Caleb’s gaze drifts lazily toward you. His eyes widen slightly, just for a second—subtle, but there. And then that crooked, lazy smile of his crawls up his face like he’s trying not to let it show too much.

“Damn,” he mutters under his breath, voice low, just loud enough for you to hear over the soft chatter of the crowd. “You do look good today, shortcake.”

You don’t turn to look at him. You don’t smile. But your pulse stutters anyway.

Inside, the lights are low and flickering, casting everyone in gold.

You find your seats near the front.

You sit first.

Then Michaela slips in beside you, smoothing the back of her dress.

Then Caleb—his thigh brushing against hers, jacket folding as he slouches back with that usual too-cool ease.

And then—

An empty seat. Reserved with a single placard.

SYLUS QIN

You stare at it for a second too long.

The serif font. The clean white card. The space he hasn’t filled.

People slowly fill the theatre, and the chatter dies down as soon as the introducing speech starts. Cheers and laughter are exchanged as the producer welcomes everyone, and soon, lights begin to dim, the hush rippling through the room like a spell settling.

The first flicker of light sears across your vision—too bright, too sudden. You blink, disoriented.

The grainy opening shot bleeds onto the walls, painting everyone in uneven strobes of white and shadow. Your hands curl into the fabric of your dress.

Then you hear your voice.

Just a small line, off-screen. But it makes your throat tighten.

And then you’re there. You.

A glimpse of your face on camera—too quick, too exposed.

Your stomach flips. A cold rush spreads down your back. You shrink into your seat without meaning to.

The flickering continues—scenes switching with sharp cuts, too fast, too loud. Your eyes strain to follow. The glow of the screen presses against your skin like heat.

You feel it in your temples. In the base of your skull.

A thrum. A pressure.

You try to breathe slower.

But there you are again.

In the corner of the frame. Behind Michaela’s shoulder. Walking across the background, smiling as she delivers a perfect monologue.

You’re always there—but never really there.

Never centered. Never seen.

Just enough to anchor the shot.

Never enough to be remembered.

Your heart races faster.

You glance sideways—Michaela is watching intently, chin tilted just so, the soft rise and fall of her breathing unbothered. Her hand rests lightly on Caleb’s arm.

You try to focus on the screen, but the lights are too much now. The images change too quickly. Your skin feels hot. The sound dips and rises, warping in your ears. Laughter in the film echoes strangely, like it’s bouncing around inside your chest instead of the room.

You swallow down the tightness clawing its way up your throat.

Breathe.

You stare at your knees. At your folded hands.

The screen flashes white again—another cut. Another shot of Michaela framed in golden light, eyes brimming with perfectly timed tears.

And just behind her, out of focus—your figure. Barely lit. Barely there.

You curl your fingers into your dress and force yourself to stay still.

Because if you move—if you flinch, if you breathe too loud—it’ll feel too real.

Like this isn’t just a movie. Like your position in the film is just as it is in real life.

Your breath hitches.

Get through this. Just get through this.

But the room feels too full. Your lungs too tight. Your face too visible under the flickering screenlight.

So, with quivering hands, you quickly excuse yourself out quietly, muttering a soft “I need to use the toilet,” to Michaela.

Your fingers brush her arm as you squeeze past, knees knocking against the velvet seat in front of you.

You don’t look at Caleb.

You don’t dare.

The moment you reach the aisle, you bolt.

The darkness of the theater presses in from all sides, but the exit sign glows red—blessedly real, blessedly distant from the version of you being projected for everyone else to see.

You push through the heavy doors.

Out into the hallway.

Into the quiet.

It’s cooler out here. Dimmer. The hum of the projector muffled by layers of walls.

And still, your hands shake.

Your chest heaves.

You press your back against the corridor and squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe again.

To stop hearing the lines you spoke, the laugh that wasn’t yours, the way you stood just out of frame.

You weren’t supposed to matter.

You weren’t supposed to be seen.

But seeing yourself just that—seeing yourself as nothing more than a narrative device—knocks all air out of your lungs.

And so you do what you do best in situations like these.

You walk.

Down the corridor. Past posters for old plays and peeling signs pointing to locked rehearsal rooms. The soft clink of your heels echoes against the concrete, sharp and rhythmic, the only sound in the hush that follows you.

Left. Then right.

You take the stairwell without thinking—something about the way the door hangs open, waiting.

Up.

One flight. Two.

You’re not counting. You’re not really anywhere.

Just moving.

The final door gives with a groan.

And then—open air.

The rooftop is quiet. Dimly lit by a few tired bulbs and the soft haze of city lights glowing from below. The wind brushes past your cheeks, tugging at the hem of your dress, the strands of your hair.

You inhale slowly—deeply.

The air fills your lungs and doesn’t choke. For the first time tonight, your chest doesn’t feel so tight.

You hug your arms around yourself, rubbing warmth into your skin as you move toward the edge of the rooftop. The wind tangles softly in your hair. The quiet is heavier than silence—it’s soothing. Honest.

The sounds of the premiere, the echoes of your lines, the weight of Michaela’s smile, Caleb’s lingering glances—all of it stays behind those concrete walls.

But the moment your shoulders finally drop—the tension unwinding from your spine like thread pulled too tight—

a voice slices through the quiet.

“The movie boring?”

You jolt.

And there he is.

Leaning lazily against the railing at the far edge of the rooftop, one hand resting in the pocket of his black slacks, the other loosely curled around a cigarette he hasn’t lit. The wind toys with the edges of his shirt, untucked and open at the collar, the soft fabric fluttering just enough to hint at the warmth beneath.

His silver hair—bright even under the dull rooftop lights—shifts with the breeze, strands falling across his forehead in that effortless way that should be illegal. The city glows behind him, casting shadows across the hard angles of his jaw, the sharp lines of his cheekbones. His eyes catch yours beneath long lashes, amused, unreadable.

He doesn’t move.

He doesn’t need to.

Just the sight of him—calm, crooked smile in place, posture loose like he’s got nowhere to be and nothing to prove—pulls something taut inside you all over again.

Sylus Qin.

Looking like trouble sculpted in moonlight.

And you walked straight into it.

Your voice stumbles out, more breath than word.

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just tips his head slightly, eyes trailing over you in that infuriatingly slow, unreadable way of his.

“Didn’t realize rooftops were exclusively yours now.”

His voice is quiet but laced with amusement, like he’s already enjoying how thrown off you are. The wind picks up, tousling the silver strands of his hair. He doesn’t fix them. Just leans back against the railing again like this is his space now. Like you’ve wandered into his scene.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he adds, gaze settling on you. “Didn’t strike me as the type to abandon your own premiere.”

Your jaw tightens. “It’s not my premiere.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he murmurs, eyes glinting. “You were in almost every shot. That little background smile of yours really carried the emotional arc.”

You shoot him a glare. He shrugs.

“Relax,” he says, voice dipping just enough to make your skin prickle. “I’m just making conversation.”

And then, without breaking eye contact, he pulls the cigarette back out from his pocket—like he knew exactly when to use it for effect.

You watch as he rolls it between his fingers, slow and practiced, before slipping it between his lips. His eyes flick downward, shadowed beneath dark lashes, as he flicks the lighter.

A soft click.

A brief spark.

Then flame.

He cups the light with one hand, shielding it from the wind, the gesture intimate in its precision. The flame catches the edge of the cigarette, a quick sizzle, and then a curl of smoke unfurls between his lips as he leans back—head tilted, silver hair brushing the collar of his jacket.

He exhales through parted lips.

Smoke spills from his mouth in a lazy stream, rising into the night air.

And for a moment, the whole rooftop smells like sin.

You swallow. Hard.

Because it shouldn’t look that good.

No one should look that good doing something so simple.

But he makes it look like poetry wrapped in gasoline.

Dangerous. Beautiful. Impossible to look away from.

He glances sideways, catching your gaze—then smirks around the cigarette.

“What?” he says, smoke curling past his teeth. “You want one?”

You ignore his question as you cross the distance between you with quiet steps, heels clicking softly against the rooftop floor, until you’re beside him.

Close, but not touching.

You lean forward onto the railing, elbows braced, eyes fixed on the world below. The city stretches beneath you—cars like fireflies, neon signs blinking against concrete, life spilling in all directions.

“Heard you’re pretty close to Michaela these days.”

Words slip out of your mouth before you could stop them—carried off too quickly by the breeze.

Sylus doesn’t respond right away. Just takes another drag, eyes still on the skyline, unreadable behind the soft glow of the city lights and the rising smoke.

“Is that what people are saying?” he asks, voice low, like he’s half-amused, half-bored.

You glance sideways at him, but his expression doesn’t shift.

“She’s been… talking,” you murmur.

He exhales slowly, smoke curling from the corner of his lips. “Yeah. She does that.”

There’s a beat of silence. The kind that leaves your thoughts too loud.

“She seems to like you,” you add, keeping your voice light. “Says you’re funny. Helpful.”

His gaze finally cuts to you, slow and sharp. An eyebrow arches. A slow, knowing smirk tugs at his lips.

“You sound jealous,” he says, voice dipped in something darker. Teasing. Dangerous.

Your breath falters.

“I’m not.”

He hums, low in his throat, clearly unconvinced. Then, he turns—just slightly—enough to face you, enough to make you feel it.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he murmurs, voice barely above the wind.

He leans in, just a bit. Not close enough to touch. Just close enough that the air between you shifts.

“I mean… if you wanted my attention,” his eyes drag slowly down your face, “you didn’t have to bring her up to get it.”

You blink. Hard.

The smirk deepens. He takes one last drag from the cigarette, flicks it to the side, and exhales—

Right past your shoulder, warm and slow, like it was deliberate.

Then he turns back toward the railing, arms resting casually as if he didn’t just turn your pulse inside out.

“Relax,” he says again, voice smooth and cruelly amused. “I’m just making conversation.”

“Fuck you and your conversations.”

“Language, princess.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, slow and smug, like he enjoys your bite more than he should.

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks next—just watches the lights below with that lazy, unreadable calm.

“The deal’s still on, by the way,” he says, almost offhand. “I don’t usually hold my deals this long.”

Your breath catches—but you don’t answer. Not immediately.

Instead, eyes still fixed on the city, you ask quietly,

“What’s it like?”

He glances sideways.

“To smoke,” you murmur, voice soft against the wind. “What does it feel like?”

That catches him off guard.

His smirk fades into something quieter—still sharp, but thoughtful.

He straightens a little, resting his elbows on the railing, eyes narrowed at the skyline like he’s remembering something he can’t touch anymore.

“It’s… warm,” he says eventually. “First few seconds burn. Then it’s just heat in your chest. Makes everything a little slower. A little duller.”

He glances at you again, eyes shadowed beneath silver strands.

“You’d hate it.”

And then, softer—

“You’d get addicted.”

You glance at him, the corner of your mouth twitching. “That confident, huh?”

His smile returns, crooked and slow.

“Always.”

Then—without looking away—he reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack again, taps it once against his palm.

“Wanna try?”

You hesitate.

Just for a second.

The rooftop wind brushes your skin. The lights below blur like you’re not quite grounded anymore.

“…Okay,” you say finally, barely above a whisper. “Sure.”

His gaze lingers on you for a breath longer than it should—sharp, slow, searching.

Then, with practiced ease, he slips the cigarette between his lips, flicks the lighter, and inhales. The tip glows ember-red. Smoke curls around his face like it belongs there.

He steps closer.

Not fast. Not aggressive. Just… inevitable.

Until your backs are no longer parallel, but aligned.

Until his body is angled toward yours, his hand brushing the railing beside your arm.

Then he exhales—slow, steady—up into the air first, just to show you how.

And before your thoughts can catch up, before your pulse even finds a rhythm, his hand slides around your jaw. Gentle, but certain. Fingers curling under your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“Open,” he murmurs.

And you do.

He leans in—closer, closer still.

Not to kiss. Not yet.

His mouth hovers just a hair’s breadth from yours, and then—

He exhales.

Smoke floods from his lungs into yours, warm and heady and tasting like fire and him.

It hits you all at once—your lips parted against his, the heat of his breath rolling into your mouth, your chest, your nerves. Your hands grip the railing behind you, fingers curling tight.

And just as your knees begin to weaken, just as the smoke begins to burn—

His lips press to yours.

Not soft.

Not tentative.

It’s full, hungry contact—heat and pressure and something sharp beneath the surface. He kisses you like you’re something he earned. Like he knew this was coming the moment you stepped onto that rooftop.

And god, you let him.

His hand slips from your jaw to your throat, thumb resting lightly just beneath your pulse. You feel it hammering there, wild and fast. He deepens the kiss, mouth coaxing yours open further, tongue tracing the edge of your bottom lip like a tease, like a challenge.

You kiss him back.

Harder. Needier. Like you’ve been holding it in.

Like you’re finally letting go.

The smoke lingers between you. In your mouth. Your chest. The heat of it coils through your veins, makes the moment feel reckless, dangerous, electric.

When he finally pulls away, just barely, your lips are still parted—still chasing after him.

And Sylus—

He’s already smirking.

“Told you,” he breathes, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“You’d get addicted.”

Your breath comes shallow. Foggy. Like you’re drunk—from the smoke. From him.

From the way his voice sits too low in your stomach, too warm in your throat.

You blink, dazed. “What the fuck was that?”

He laughs—low, rich, and dizzying.

“Still want to call it a mistake?”

You don’t answer. Can’t.

Not with the nicotine still curling in your lungs. Not with his breath still ghosting yours.

Maybe it’s the way the air thins between you again.

Maybe it’s the flush that rises to your cheeks when you look up at him and realize he hasn’t stepped back this time.

Or maybe it’s just that dangerous cocktail of heat and haze and the taste of sin still lingering on your tongue.

“I think,” you whisper, eyes flicking to his mouth, “you didn’t teach it properly.”

His gaze sharpens. That smirk falters, just for a second—enough to show the hunger underneath.

“Oh?” he breathes.

You nod. Barely.

He leans in. Slowly. Purposefully.

His hand grazes your waist, his breath brushing your lips—and just when you think he’s going to kiss you again—

He pulls back.

Barely an inch. Just enough to keep you chasing.

His smirk returns, lazier this time. Meaner.

“Didn’t think you’d beg so soon,” he murmurs.

You glare. “I didn’t beg.”

“Mm,” he hums, dragging a finger along your jaw, “Not yet.”

Then—finally—he kisses you.

But it’s slower now. Crueler.

His mouth moves with calculated ease, like he’s studying you. Like he wants to see how long you can last with the tension stretched this thin.

He barely gives you what you want—just enough heat to make your knees unsteady, just enough pressure to make you lean in.

When your hand fists in his shirt, tugging him closer, he lets out a quiet laugh against your lips.

“Impatient,” he mutters, and you feel it—low and hot—right in your throat.

And then he deepens the kiss.

Because he knows you’re done pretending you don’t want it.

And he’s done pretending he doesn’t love watching you unravel.

But in the middle of it all—his fingers sliding under your shirt, your hands fisted in the back of his hair, breaths shared like secrets—

It hits you.

A crack of clarity.

Sharp and sudden, cutting through the haze.

You pull back.

Not far, but enough. Enough to breathe. Enough to speak.

“Why are you doing this?”

His brows knit, just slightly. You feel the shift in him, the quiet tension settling beneath the heat.

You keep going. You have to.

“What will you get out of the deal?”

Your voice is low, but steady. The question tastes bitter in your mouth—maybe because you’ve been trying to pretend it didn’t matter.

But it does. It always did.

He watches you, smoke still clinging to his breath, his thumb pausing on your skin.

And for a moment, he doesn’t answer.

Like he’s deciding what version of the truth to give you.

Like he’s debating if you’ve earned it.

He fully pulls away, the warmth of his body gone in an instant.

You watch as he straightens his spine, smooths down his collar with one hand, runs the other through his wind-tousled silver hair—like he’s putting his armor back on. Like he needs the distance again.

“I’m not playing games,” he says.

His voice is low. Still sharp, but there’s something underneath now. Not heat. Not flirtation.

Something older. Quieter. Worn.

You cross your arms, still catching your breath. “Then what is this?”

He pauses.

You see the flicker in his eyes—a calculation, a hesitation. The part of him that always weighs what to say and what to bury.

Then his lips tug into that same maddening smirk.

“You’re just really pitiful,” he says, voice lazy with mock sympathy.

Your brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”

“Kind of like someone I knew,” he continues, like he didn’t just insult you to your face. His tone is still light, but something about the way he says it—too casual, too precise—makes you freeze.

He doesn’t elaborate right away. Just glances down at the city lights below, cigarette smoldering between his fingers again.

He takes one last drag from the cigarette before flicking it over the edge, watching the ember fall like a dying star.

Then he turns back to you—smirk faded now, voice lower, rougher. Real.

“Let’s just say—” he begins, eyes locking with yours,

“you get to use me to get whatever you want…”

A pause. A slow step closer.

“And I’ll use you to get whatever I want.”

He lets the silence stretch between you, lets the weight of the words hang there like smoke.

“Sounds fair?”

You don’t answer right away.

You just stand there—wind tousling your hair, the taste of smoke still clinging faintly to your lips—watching him.

Watching the way he doesn’t push.

Doesn’t ask again.

Just lets the offer hang in the air like a match waiting to be struck.

Your thoughts spiral—through the flickers of the film, the ache in your chest as you watched yourself play the shadow, Michaela’s bright voice, Caleb’s wandering gaze, Sylus’s mouth on yours, the weight of his hands, the things he said.

And the worst part?

The way all of it made you feel alive again.

Like something inside you had finally stirred.

Like you were tired of being careful. Tired of being quiet. Tired of waiting for someone else to hand you the pen to your own story.

You draw in a breath, meet his eyes.

“Fine,” you say, soft but steady.

“I’m in.”

His smile is slow. Pleased. Like he already knew.

But he says nothing. Just nods once and turns to leave, hands in his pockets, silver hair catching the rooftop light.

You don’t stop him.

You stay there for a moment longer, listening to the echo of your own heartbeat.

And when the rooftop door clicks shut behind him—

You’re still tasting sin.

Still thinking about the deal you just made.

And wondering who, in the end, will really get what they want.

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

COMEBACK/APOCALYPSE

eunhyuk x gn!reader — 577 words.

genre: angst/comfort, (probably) established relationship

warnings: mentions of death, grief, and swearing. nothing else i think!

synopsis: Eunhyuk returns. You don’t know how to deal with it.

author’s note: i miss him so have this. also me when you’re coming back and it’s the end of the world and we’re starting over and i love you darling and i am done

“You’re dead.” you say, “I’ve finally made peace with that. You should not be here.”

Steady as your voice may be, you’re unsure how much of your carefully crafted detached exterior manages to hold up in the face of Lee Eunhyuk’s apparent return to life. He looks as calm as usual. The way he stares at you feels somewhat unnerving��� A gaze that refuses to let go, one that pierces right through you.

You feel the walls around you crumbling before you can do anything about it. You never stood a chance. “Eunhyuk.” you sigh, tone almost pleading. Please tell me you’re real. Please tell me you’re alive. Even if it makes no sense, say it, please. You hold his gaze as he takes a few short steps towards you.

“I’m sorry.” he says. Your throat feels tight and your eyes sting. “That you grieved for something that wasn’t gone.”

This is so much worse. But there isn’t a good way this situation could’ve gone.

This is one year and some months of sinking into a void of growing despair, with nothing to grab onto to stop it. It’s one year and some months that really feel like a decade of your very heart withering away. It’s one year and some months of surviving a monster apocalypse, and somehow having the sight of the person you craved to see the most be the thing that truly breaks you. The floor feels like it’s disappearing under your feet. You’re falling again, and it feels ten times worse and more instant. Like death. You’re dying and he’s saying sorry for not ever truly leaving.

“No, I,” you pause, forcing yourself to actually breathe, “I grieved over someone that was gone. You were gone. This was over a whole year without a single sign from you. An entire year of forcing myself to believe everyone’s words. ‘He’s dead’, ‘He’s gone and under the crumbled building’, ‘You’ll never see him again’, that was real.”

Eunhyuk doesn’t say a word.

“I didn’t want to believe it. I was so sure of it— That you weren’t really gone. You wouldn’t leave so easily. I didn’t believe it at all.” you shake your head, gaze moving aimlessly, “I eventually had to stop believing, and I’m sorry that I did. But you can’t just come back this way.”

“Should I leave?”

He’s dead serious, the fool. Polite and conscious of the boundaries he might’ve pushed by simply making himself known to you again.

“No. Are you kidding me?” you take a step forward, but it’s awfully hesitant. Like if you get too close you’ll see his skin is translucent and he was never really there and you’d been yelling at the wall. “You can’t leave. Not again.”

What are you supposed to do with all these feelings? It’s terrifying. He really is here.

“What can I do?” he asks, tone as steady as you’d hoped yours would come out. Every moment you practiced that false image of calm, your reference had subconsciously been Eunhyuk. Calm and level-headed, mature, the perfect leading figure. You’d never see Lee Eunhyuk slip up over his own emotions. That’s what you strived for.

But as it turns out, it’s not easy to be like this.

So out of touch. You need to make sure.

“Take my hand.” you say, ask, “Please.”

He looks down at your hand, then back up at you when he shortens the distance between the two of you. His hand is careful when it takes yours, slowly bringing it up between both of your chests. His skin is just as cold as it was, as cold as you remembered. Rough, contrasting how gentle his movements are. You stare at him and he stares at your hand.

“Now?”

“Now you promise not to die without me.”

That’s not something he can promise, you know it already. His expression tenses for a moment, like he’s in pain, but it’s gone just as fast. “I can’t promise you that.” he says, looking up at you, “You know that.”

“You’re the worst person I know.” you say, lying through your teeth. Eunhyuk carefully reaches his free hand towards your face, pressing his palm to your jaw.

“I am, aren’t I?” he says quietly, expression unchanging. “I’d usually call bullshit, but I admit I sort of believe you, all things considered.”

You scoff but it’s hard for it not to turn into a laugh. It’s light and not the definition of happy but it feels somewhat comforting. Your heart feels painfully tight. There’s something inordinately scary about allowing yourself to hope again.

“You know, once it actually clicks in my head that you’re really here, I’m going to cry like I never have before?”

“Don’t waste your energy on that.” he hums, “Still, I’ll be here through all of it, if it happens. I’ll be there. I won’t leave again. Not like last time.”

You lean down until your forehead hits his shoulder. He moves his hand to the back of your head, and the other just tightens around your own. There’s no need for more than that to say I love you, silently, in your own way.

“You will?”

“I can promise you that much.”

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚- 01

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡

College roomate!Jungkook x college roomate!reader- fwb 2 Lovers

You find yourself having to share your room with a very sexually active medical science major who so happens to fancy you. Good thing he´s as charming and spontaneous as you, leading to many crazy parties and places you probably should not be hooking up at. When Jungkook started ignoring all his booty calls after accidentally calling someone by your name, unable to fuck away the thought of you, he knew he was cooked. Would he really leave his playboy antics for that sweet company of yours?

series- one!

content: mild slow burn- fwb2l, roomates, mutual pining, player jungkook that falls devoted to reader, cocky!JK, Confident!reader, psychology major reader, banter, parties, lots of smut (duh)

episode- warnings: mention of weed, drugs, alcohol, the word slut

Taglist: @khadeeeeej @ot7stansthings @whoa-jo @smoljjks @stvrlighytt @nono13bnd @jungshaking @junniesoleilkth @deepikhaprakash @rockstryoon @tatamicc @jjeonjjk7 @kookieandjoonberries @jcrl99 @httpjeonlicious @wnteraezz @aphrodyteeth

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡

"I dont know Jungkook isn't this a little too much?" The mirror in front if you reflects back a clear imagine of you in a very short- barely ass covering- black mini dress.

The occasion for a beautiful, tight black mini dress that ties up in the back with pink silk ribbon, that also has your chest practically spilling out?

Another party your roomate drags you too.

Okay, maybe not drag.

Over the proximity of five months, your charming roomie had become a good friend.

You aren't even sure how it started, maybe the bickering, countless sexual jokes, his ego clashing with yours on the daily or purely that you've spend so much time in the shared dorm,

But Jungkook definitely knew how to match your energy.

From door-dashing food when both of you got high out of your minds, studying for hours together and increasingly stressing each other out to more crazy things, like running from the cops after doing fire crackers in an abandoned building.

You just matched each others freak perfectly.

"If too much means looking sexy then yes, way too much. But you know, nothing to be ashamed of" he answers your previous question, leaning against the doorframe with his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

You shake your head, deciding to just go with the dress.

"Alright, lets go. Who's driving?" He gazes down into your eyes as you walk to the doorframe, heels clicking on the floor with each step.

A small smirk forms on his face, "No one, its a dorm party. Let's both get wasted"

Usually, Jungkook and you agreed that one person always stays sober, to drive back and take care of the other person if something happens.

"I don't wanna drink much Kook, but you let loose eh?" smacking his firm chest, a small giggle leaves your lips.

In return, his eyes go to your chest, pressed together tightly and in perfect view for the taller male to look down into.

His eyes wander back up to your face, every time you giggled it made him want to tease you more

"Sure bunny, but I gotta keep an eye on you if you look this good" the smug look on his face makes you want to scream,

So does the nickname,

It started randomly, kind of

You mentioned that bunnies are your favorite animals, hugging the pink, soft bunny plushie to your chest back when Jungkook and you went to get some stuff for the apartment,

You couldn't help but stop at the sight, plushies always make your heart melt.

He still remembers how soft you looked, adimiring the small plushed animal.

He decided that day to call you bunny, saying that it just suited you,

He also bought you that plushie

You roll your eyes at his teasing comment, looking up into his eyes with a innocent look,

Not failing to notice how good his lip ring looks as he plays with it slightly.

"Oh will you? I think you're just gonna go fuck some random girl again, leave me all alone"

Instinctively, he leans down with the same smug smile still placed over his face.

"Awh.. is bunny jealous? Don't worry, i'll make it quick this time" he winks, patting your head in an effort to mock you

Without getting the chance to say something back, he turns around, walking to the front door with a small laugh leaving his lips.

You decide it's for the better to just walk out with him.

Over the course of these last months, you aren't the only one that got to know Jungkook,

Many, many girls around campus have learned about him in possibly the only way you haven't,

Which is during sex.

It's to no surprise that a very physically attractive, smart and charming guy like Jungkook has girls swooning over him left and right.

Arguably, the fact that he sleeps around quite a lot also shouldn´t come as a surprise.

It did however, take some time to get used to hearing his moans through your paper thin walls,

Sure you were fine with sleeping on the couch like once a week,

Given the fact that you would have to be in the same room, a couple meters apart otherwise.

Sleeping on the very comfy living room couch isn't what bothered you at all,

More so, hearing him tell these girls all sorts of things, hearing his groans and the sound of skin slapping in every lewd way possible.

"You're such a slut"

"Just like that yeah?"

To hear the bed ramming against the wall which each grunt,

Just to go to sleep there the next day, like nothing happend.

It took some time to get used to it.

Get used to the slick running down your inner thighs when you could hear his sounds of pleasure,

Opting for soundproof headphones instead to avoid the need to do something about the way you felt.

Get used to him sending each and every one away after, sometimes crying, explaining that he was honest from the start.

He always told the girls, or so he said he would, that he's just sleeping with them for fun, just once.

One single time only.

Jungkooks has never been the relationship type so he claims,

"I just haven´t really felt more than physical attraction before, and I´m not dying for it either" he revealed in another cross faded open heart conversation, one of many nights.

What's worse is, getting used to him shamelessly flirting and smiling to you after,

As if you wouldn't be just another fuck to him, another girl on his long list, if you were to engage in it with him.

That thought right there, being just another one of his hookups , is precisely why you swore to never sleep with Jungkook, it would change your friendship, the one so perfectly matched.

No matter of ridiculously tempting it is.

The sexual banter would probably stop, given that he "got what he wanted" so to speak,

Even if Jungkook isn't that type of guy, it wouldn't be the same.

"This dorm is huge man what the fuck"

Between the blaring music and some familiar faces, Jungkook's big doe eyes look over the student apartment.

Significantly more spacious than the one on your own, presumably housing 3 people.

"Oh look! Chaewon's here too" you smile, immediately squeezing your way through the crowd to get to her.

"YOU CAMEEE" her bubbly voice rings as she engulfs you in a warm hug,

You laugh, embracing her in the same way she does,

"Wow you look so hot tonight" her mouth lets out a overly dramatic whistle, hands finding their way to your arms.

You smile when her lips form into a flirty smirk, eyes ranking over your figure

"You're one to talk Chae, that skirt is so cute"

It's true, Chaewon's silver mini skirt topped with her black waterfall- neckline top and gorgeous black heels makes for a perfect outfit, only adding to her already present beauty.

If there is one girl in the entire world you would wanna steal the looks from, it would have to be your best friend.

"Oh hi Jungkook" her eyes suddenly dart next to you, where Jungkook is now standing, having his decorated hand clasped around your waist.

You try to ignore how good it feels to have him close,

Chaewon shoots you a look, letting you know she immediately noticed it.

"Hey Chae. Didn't know you were coming" he smiles faintly,

You can't help but watch his eyes, hoping to see if they wander down her body like they normally would if another pretty girl stood in his vicinity.

It never made sense to you, how he hasn't slept with Chaewon yet.

She's stunning, into his looks like most girls on campus and she definitely isn't looking for something serious,

Not even at risk for begging for Jungkook to come back,

Nonetheless, he never once made a move on her.

She points to the kitchen, "I wasn't planning but, Minnie invited me. Want a drink?"

Jungkook and you nod almost perfect in sync, making her laugh and squeeze her way past more people,

You follow behind tightly, now feeling both of Jungkook's hand around your waist as you keep walking,

His breath is suddenly tingling on your neck, softly moving to your ear,

"Gotta make sure i don't lose ya' "

The sound of his voice to closely on to your skin is a sensation that makes you shiver

Every idiot would notice the heavy sexual tension between you two,

You would love to know what it feels like to feel vulnerable below him,

Having him burried inside your own sex and feeling his lips tracing your skin,

But it's of no use, you wouldn't ever give up a friend like him for one time pleasure.

"What do you want?" Chaewon snaps you out of your thoughts, the music is slightly quieter in the kitchen.

Assembled in front of you are lots of bottles, empty solo cups, crates of beer, some strange looking fruity cocktail mixes but most importantly,

A big, full bottle of vodka.

"Four shots, vodka pure please"

Jungkook laughs, leaning against the counter,

"Didn't you say you'd take it easy?" His eyebrow cocks up as he speaks,

"It´s four shots" you reply, rolling your eyes

"You're a lightweight bunny" he winks, turning back to Chaewon

"Give me a moscow mule and i'll be good"

Chaewon smiles, shaking her head as she hands you your first shot

"My pleasure guys"

Four shots quickly turn into four more, the sway of your hips in the music playing, unsure of even the current song, just feeling to good to stop

Feeling the people around you, you keep dancing, maybe stumbling at this point,

Even though you feel your head getting lighter and you're ignoring the burning hurt on your feet from constantly moving on heels,

Nothing mattered with enough shots.

Nothing until you notice that Chaewon,

Who you could feel was just beside you, right there dancing and laughing with you,

Is no where to be found.

Your feet stop momentarily, almost faling over from the sudden halt

Trying to look everywhere between the people, whipping your dizzy head around to find her sitting somewhere, maybe dancing with a guy, maybe mixing another drink

But you can't see her, instead you find the man you came with,

Sitting on a couch with a girl you know you recognize from somewhere, leaning over and whispering something into her ear

Instead of trying to think in your hazy state of mind, you legs are developing a mind on their own, walking over to said couch for who knows what reason,

He smiles at her, rubbing his larger hand over her exposed knee softly,

That's right, you recall now,

She's definitely in your social studies class.

"Kook? Have you seen Chae?" Grabbing a hold of the couch in order not to tumble forward, your words come out slightly slurred.

He removes his hand from her skin, diverting his attention to you,

He seems sober, relatively sober in comparison to your state.

"I think she went upstairs with someone, come sit down you're about to collapse" he pats the other side of where he's sitting, giving you a warm look.

"Actually, we were kind of talking? Is it okay if you sit somewhere else for now?"

Jungkook doesn't take his eyes off you, scoffing as he's standing up from the couch,

She fake smiles briefly, although her eyes look confused,

You think so at least, unable to really make out anything clearly at this point.

"Let's go bunny, we're done here tonight anyways"

With that, you giggle, consumed by the liquor in your system as he escorts you out of the dorm.

Once the cold, july midnight air hits you, you can feel the hairs on your skin stand up,

Legs wabbling, weaker than they were minutes ago distracted by dancing the night away.

You can make out the sound of his laughter, scooting closer to you

"Take your heels off please i don't want you to break any bones"

There is not enough alcohol in the world to make you back down on your pride, sometimes you don't quite trust even your own words,

Like right now,

"No kook i- 'lll be finee" your eyes roll as you begin walking,

"Other direction bunny"

"Right, i knew that"

He shakes his head, wrapping his beautifully painted arm around your naked shoulders, making sure that you really don't go breaking any bones.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Remind me why i drank again" your groans catch the attention of Jungkook standing in the kitchen.

Being awake from the sensation of a pounding headache isn't exactly pleasant, even worse when you feel dirty from not having showered the night before.

Automatically, your aching feet take you to the kitchen for a glass of water,

"I thought you died, its literally 2pm" he says while stirring the big pot placed on the counter,

You lean over curiously,

"What'cha making?"

Jungkook grabs two bowls, filling the first one up and sliding it over to you.

"Hangover soup of course, look at your state miss" he puts a spoon in the bowl before pinching your nose,

You punch his arm lightly, inhaling the delicious scent of the boiling hot soup bowl in front of you,

"Thank you kook. What about you? No hangover?"

"Nah. After i saw you taking your sixth shot i figured it's better if someone is stable enough to find the way home" he laughs softly while filling his own bowl.

"Awhhh you're such a sweetheart" you tease, making a pouty face at him, just to piss him off.

He shakes his head, sitting down at the living room table to begin eating a very late breakfast.

With a birdsnest in your hair and the smell of a party, maybe eating is allowed to come second.

"Gonna shower first i feel gross" your arms stretch over your head while you yawn,

There is no state of embarrassment Jungkook hasn't seen over five months, looking like a hot mess doesn't phase you anymore.

He eyes you up and down, a fake judging look in his eyes.

"You smell gross too"

You roll your eyes, "That's why im showering now idiot" you shout from inside the bathroom, already having walked your way over there as he talked.

Ah, it felt so nice to stand under the warm water,

To rinse yourself from the smell of sweat and alcohol and replace it with vanilla,

Feeling the headache slowly fade into the background.

To comb through your wet hair, making it soft with a hair mask.

To step out, dry yourself off and slip into fresh clothes.

"Wait"

You look around the bathroom, wrapped in a tiny towel over your half wet and naked figure,

Noticing that you failed to bring new clothes inside the bathroom, having been too occupied with showering fast to go and eat Jungkook's brunch.

"Jungkook!" You shout, hoping he can hear,

"Yeah?" He shouts back, still sitting at your dining table, kind of expecting the worst.

Usually when you shout his name like that it´s never good.

"I forgot my clothes! Can you bring me some?"

He gets up immediately, sighing in relief "What do you need?"

You think for a second, of course he's seen your laundry before, you gave up on separating the clothes long time ago.

However, you made sure to always keep the more.. sexy underwear in your care.

"Nevermind i"ll get it myself" you shout again, at which he groans

"I'm literally on my way, give me three minutes"

And so he does, walking into your guy's room, to open your side of the closet.

Grabbing a random shirt and a pair of joggers, then reaching down to the underwear drawer like it's second nature to him.

He rummages through the unorganized pile of socks and bra's, to find a pair of boyshorts he's seen about two billion times before.

Until he stops in his tracks, stumbling across something that made him bite his lip softly.

He grabs the pair of white, lacy panties that he's just discovered. A little silver heart pendant in the front, barely any material that isn't see through.

His mind runs quickly, thinking about you with nothing but these panties on.

His physical atrraction to you isn't a secret to him either,

Then again, he is attracted to practically any girl.

"What's taking so long i'm fucking freezing" you shout, still inside the bathroom,

Praying that he isn´t inspecting your lingerie.

He shakes his head, deciding to tease you just a little, hiding the panties inside the shirt he chose.

When you hear the footsteps approaching outside the bathroom, you open the door just enough to stick your arm outside.

"Thanks koo" you say while he hands you the clothes, a small smirk already creeping it's way up his face at the thought of your face when you see them,

And the fact that that's what's gonna be underneath your sweats once you walk out.

Finally, you take the clothes in hand, already annoyed when you can't find any underwear,

"Don't tell me he didn´t get me any" you sigh to yourself,

Until,

"This annoying little-",

The pair of your precious white panties falls to the floor.

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

Warnings- Mentions of blood, gore and murder scenes, eventual smut, JK is definitely a hard dom and mad possessive, vampire bites and blood sucking.

A/N- Even though I have tagged the people who asked to be tagged, there will be no taglist for this series from here on. I only tagged you guys to sort of let you know this series has started. It's a big struggle to keep all those usernames up to date so you might wanna turn on the notifs :)

Please find the introduction to the world of Amour Mort here!

You ran through the forest, tears in your eyes making it difficult to see the path ahead, but you could tell you were venturing deeper into the more dangerous side. At the back of your mind, you were very aware that you shouldn’t be here past midnight, and that if someone found you breaking curfew, you would probably be executed by the throne, thinking you were some sort of rebel revolting in the recent uprisings. But all of that paled in comparison to the despair gnawing at your soul.

The branches clawed at your skin, leaving angry red marks, but you didn’t slow down, only realizing you had come here barefoot when tiny stones began hurting the bottom of your feet. You were being chased—not by a person, but by your own thoughts and the relentless ache in your chest. Your father’s words would not stop playing in your mind, your palms pressing against your ears as you closed your eyes in an attempt to silence his voice.

"You're nothing but a burden to me. I wish you had never been born!"

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your right foot, sending you stumbling and falling to the ground with all the air being knocked out of your lungs. You winced, letting out a whimper as you managed to look back, gasping at the bear trap that had clamped around your foot. Its teeth dug into your flesh, and blood pooled on the dead leaves beneath you.

“No…” you cried out, sobbing at your misfortune, the pain from your wound shooting through your leg in waves. A thought came to you: maybe this is how you die, completely alone and unloved, with no one to care that you weren’t at home right now.

‘That’s not true! Lila cares…’

Your mind screamed at you, your sister’s pretty face popping into your head. Well, this was true; your sister did care about you. But really, there was only so much she could do when your father did not even acknowledge you as his daughter. You still remembered the party where a guest mistook you for a maiden working in the mansion. It had truly hurt you, but there was nothing you could say, not when that is probably what your father wanted the world to think. A part of you thinks he hates you because your mother died just five days after you were born, but how could you, a mere baby, be at fault for that?

Gathering all your energy, you began to drag yourself to a tree nearby, wincing and whimpering with every wave of pain that washed over you. You could even feel the burn on the skin of your forearms where it rubbed against the rocky and muddy ground, convinced that the sleeve of your dress was beginning to tear. Were you even going to make it back home? Did you even want to make it back home?

Upon reaching the giant tree, you pushed yourself up, managing to rest your back against the trunk, finally getting a good look at the steel trap wrapped around your foot. Meant for animals, it was likely a tool for the poorer vampires who couldn’t afford human slaves and fed on animal blood instead. It was the one law that favored humans: vampires were forbidden to feed on them freely. But nonetheless, it was always the innocent ones who had to pay the price. The night-walkers were given the gift of strength and brutality that they used against the weak, be it you or an animal.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, your breathing growing harsh, and your vision growing blurry. It was the blood loss, and you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Either you were getting used to it, or your body had started focusing on the fact that you were dying instead. Whatever was happening, it was not good, and you had no idea how to help yourself.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not at this time.” A voice broke through the darkness, making you jump in surprise, your eyes immediately landing on a man’s silhouette standing just a few steps away from you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and, swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself further against the tree, hoping that would make you disappear.

Was this someone who was going to turn you in? Maybe the cause of your death was going to be execution and not a bear trap?

Your silence only prompted the man to move closer to you and into the moonlight filtering through the trees, your lips parting as you took in his face. He was truly breathtaking, with black hair that fell across his forehead and eyes that seemed to pierce through the night. There was black ink peeking at you from under the collar of his black shirt on his neck, more patterns emerging from under his rolled-up sleeve right up to his knuckles, making you wonder just how much of his body was tainted like this.

“N-neither should you,” you said bravely, though your voice was small and weak.

He chuckled in response, making you purse your lips as you watched him kneel down beside you, your body subconsciously shifting backward even though there was nowhere to go, every single thought in your mind long gone in the presence of this man.

His eyes slowly moved across your body, taking in your tear-stained cheeks, your tattered dress, and your bloody foot, tutting at the condition of your wound.

“This is why you shouldn’t be here, little human,” he said, your eyes widening as you caught a hint of amusement on his face, your blood running cold at the realization. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you were suddenly very aware of the blood you were soaked in, your eyes nervously flitting between him and your poor foot. If you had to die, you didn’t want to do so at the hands of a vampire. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine the pain that was probably about to suffocate you when he ripped your heart right out of your chest.

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, staring into his eyes with tears in yours, shaking your head when he smirked and leaned in closer to you. Closing your eyes, you let the tears fall freely and turned your face away from him, his breath fanning your neck and making you whimper.

“You must taste exquisite.” He inhaled deeply, your chest heaving as his words made your heart thump harder in your chest. This has to be it. He was going to drain your body right now, and no one was going to find out ever.

Preparing yourself for the attack, you closed your eyes shut and gripped the skirt of your dress, thinking about your family for the last time before your life was taken from you.

“But I’m not going to do that.” Came his voice, your eyes slowly opening as you glanced over at him, noticing the sudden distance he had put between the two of you. A frown etched on your forehead, your tears drying up on your cheeks as you processed his words. He was not going to hurt you?

“I’m too old to lose control over a bit of blood.” He gestured nonchalantly towards your foot, shocking you at how he thought this was just a bit of blood. You were literally going to pass out soon.

“Wh-why are you here?” you stammered, biting your tongue when his expression hardened, his eyes sending daggers your way and letting you know that you shouldn’t have asked him that. Silence engulfed you both, your eyes failing to look away from him. It was almost as if he was holding you prisoner under his gaze, a flash of guilt disappearing from his dark eyes as soon as it came.

“I had to get away before they caught up to me,” he confessed, a cool breeze ruffling his hair as he stood up and stared down at you, his eyes reading the confusion in yours.

“Who-”

“My sins,” he responded before you could even ask, his thick boots crunching the leaves on the gravelly path as he walked in front of your stretched-out leg and sat down on one knee. A flash of lightning struck through the sky at that very second, as if to show that the heavens had heard his confession too. And when the thunder illuminated his face, you could swear you had seen the very face of evil.

“Are you scared of me?” he asked, tilting his head as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head hesitantly. But you knew he didn’t believe you when he let out a small laugh. It sounded bitter to your ears, like he was mocking you for being so weak yet trying to fool him at the same time.

“Well, you should be.” In one quick motion, his hand ripped apart the trap into two pieces, your flesh being freed from the sharp claws that were jammed into it. Dots filled your vision as your lips parted in a silent scream, your chest hurting as if you were having a heart attack, and maybe you were because you felt your body go limp as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Strong arms held you before you could hit the ground, your head suddenly resting against a firm chest as your breath came out all raggedy. You could feel sweat beading on your forehead, your body not having any energy to even let you open your eyes for a second.

“W-why…” you breathed out, your voice a bare whisper in the night. And the next thing you knew, you felt a hand pressing against your lips before a metallic taste filled your mouth. With all the energy left in you, you opened your eyes wide and grabbed the tattooed arm feeding you blood, your attempts at pushing it away failing miserably.

“Sshh, you need this. You need me,” the vampire whispered above you, his chin resting atop your head as he ran his free hand through your hair. Knowing that you couldn’t fight him off, not like this, you gave up and swallowed the disgusting liquid that made your body feel warm all of a sudden. You could hear your heart pumping and your breathing steadying as the blood worked its way into your system, your senses sharpening, and your strength slowly returning.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his arm away, and you let out a string of coughs, gasping for air while the awful taste lingered on your tongue. It was truly ironic how the blood of someone dead could heal a living being. How a killer could give life to someone. And you were sure that this man who had saved your life was a killer too. Why else would he talk about his sins catching up to him?

“What did you do that you had to run away?” you asked as soon as you found your voice, your tired eyes glancing up at the man holding you. His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips, sending shivers down your spine when he brought up his thumb and rubbed away some blood from the corner of your mouth.

“What’s your name?” He avoided your question smoothly, pretending you hadn’t spoken a word to him. Frowning, you thought about it for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell him who you were. But at the same time, you weren’t a very valuable human. There was really nothing he could want from you that would make him hunt you down.

“Y/N,” you said, averting your gaze to your foot, which was now void of any wounds. Your skin looked completely smooth and untouched except for the dried blood staining it, leaving you staring in awe.

“Well, Y/N,” he started, regaining your attention, “you’re gonna find out tomorrow.”

You frowned at his words, wondering if this implied that he was going to see you tomorrow to tell you what sin he had committed. Too lost in your head to notice that he had stood up, you saw him offer his hand to you. Your fingers hesitantly took hold of his cold ones. With ease, he pulled you up as you slightly lifted your dress and examined your foot, pleased with the fact that there was absolutely no pain anymore.

“This is-” You turned to glance at the man, only to be met with darkness. The vampire was gone, the forest was silent, and you were alone once again.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @girl8890 @adasboredom @acrazybiotch374 @tutnotmytea @leilei-9 @yoonjinhusbands @kumakoyan @ttanniett

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

The great war | ch.15

Summary: you may have won a war but there is still the battles you lose.

Pairing : princess!femreader x princewarrior!jungkook.

Genre: royal au, medieval romance, literally the whole song ‘the great war’ by t.swift, gore, wartime, action, female hysteria, enemies to lovers, forced marriage, the fmc is a BADASS, angst etc.

Rating: rated pg16

Tag list is open, send an ask to be in it.

Series master list

Main master list

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Jungkook’s curdling screams echo in the castle, your fingers clutched around the staircase railing, jimin climbing down. “What happened to him?” You asked, “tae and he fought, I tried to help but he didn’t even let me in.” He says as you nod, “If you could, please check on him, princess. Both of them are borderline maniacs.” You nod, “you should go now, it’s very late.”

He gulps, eyes lingering at the door of his friend. “I’ll…take care.” You try to assure, them he looks at you. Nodding, “Good night, princess. I’ll stop by if I could.” “Good night jimin.” Originally, you just said it for the words. You Weren’t going to go inside and take care of him or even see his face. But something in you twisted at the screams filled with agony.

Jungkook isn’t a weak guy, and surely how much can Taehyung hurt him? You sensed something wrong, something utterly inexplicable. So, just out of curiosity, your feet turn the way his tall doors stand. You gulped, it was past midnight, really deep into the darkness. The door was slightly open, you softly pushed it and stepped inside.

Eyes widened at the sight. Jungkook pressed a lit lamp against his shoulder, and you gasped. He snapped his head to you, you were quick to focus back on your demeanour. It wasn’t a wide-open wound but one bloody one, as if something crashed against his shoulder. Jungkook was all sweaty, pants ripped for the most part, shirt off thrown somewhere.

Your fingers twitched, “what are you…doing?” You asked, he breathed heavily, “Get out of my room.” He embraced himself and pressed the hot lamp against his shoulder again, creating more burn marks. You don’t know what clicked into you, but you Ran and snatched the lamp from him. “Are you fucking crazy!?”

You examined his wound, “how the hell did this even happen?!” You touched them as he hissed, “I told you to get lost y/n!” His loud shout echoes in the chambers, and you fumed. Holding his shoulder and examining the wound, he lowly grunts. “What did he do?” “Smashed a fucking plant on me.”

You gulped, “This needs medical care. I should call for the doc.” You say and take your steps back, “No need!” His voice echoes, and you halt and look back at him. “Are you sure?” You asked, “Yes.” He says and hisses while lying down. You sighed, picking up his shirt and going inside the bathroom, washing and wetting it. Jungkook breathes heavily, eyeing the little chandelier above his head.

“Get up.” You say, walking toward him, he eyed you. “For what? Stop bothering me and go back to your room.” You sighed, holding his bicep. He examines your face, “what makes you think your wound will heal if you cook it like a fucking fish?” He scoffs, “What can you even do?”

He screeched when you twisted his arm. “Fuck!” He curses while getting back on his butt. You gently press the cold cloth against his hot, swelled shoulder. He hissed, “When I told you to get back inside, why didn’t you?” You asked, cleaning any blood. For this actually, he had no answers.

Even he himself is seeking that, what is it that made him act like crap? You glanced at his face and saw multiple cuts and wounds. “Do you love him?” You pressed the cloth on his eyebrow to clean the blood. He looked at your face, and you gulped, exhaling. “Why should that concern you?”

You said it blankly and wiped his lips. He almost said it—but then he didn’t. You cleared your throat, taking out a small bottle filled with green liquid. “Is that poison?” He frowned, “No. It’s a medicine.” This was the one you used for your menses, you just thought it could work for a little while. Especially until Jungkook is ready to get himself healed by a professional, after all, it had sacred water in it.

You spread it across his shoulder lightly. With its watery consistency, it dripped down his shoulder to his chest and down his nipples. That was one disgustful sight in your opinion. He hissed for the millionth time when you spread it on his neck. “What does this even do?” You ripped his shirt, “I don’t know.”

He looked at your face, clutching onto the sheets when you tightly wrapped it. You moved to his head spread his hair and checked the scalp, “Ah! What are you doing!?” He held your wrist as you frowned. “You should take a bath tomorrow. It’s all a bloody mess.” You freed your wrist as he frowned, heart twisting.

You gulped and wrapped a piece of shirt around his scratchy head and tied a knot. You sigh, dizzy in your head, you need sleep. You step back, “I’m going. Good night.” Jungkook’s dry lips parted as you wiped your hands, “call the doctor tomorrow.” You say and turn your back, running out.

“Wait!” You stop and turn your head, “tomorrow morning, you have a hearing in court. The decision after the voting of your request. I was trying to inform you.” You sighed, even more sad and confused now. You know how the voting turned out, the final decision won’t be different either. “Okay. Good night.”

Jungkook exhaled, seeing you disappear. Heart heavy for some reason, you’re usually witty, vengeful or confident. Today you seemed sad, more on that, you seemed confused. Is it something he did? Or taehyung? Or someone else? He wonders, “Didn’t even turn off the lamps.” He looks at his shoulder, tightly wrapped with his shirt and even his hand is wrapped tightly.

He gulps, sliding down his bed, “I even forgot to feed Tyro,” he chuckled, admiring his chandelier. With the soft breeze that followed through his window, Jungkook hadn’t even realised when it had been morning already. He groans at the still-numbing pain in his body, somebody knocks and walks in. Jemmy bows, “Glad to see you awake, prince. Good morning.”

Jungkook whizzes in pain, and Jemmy sighs. “The doctor has been waiting for you to wake so she can treat you. Should I call her?” Jungkook shook his head, “give me water first.” Jemmy nodded and served him a glass of clean water. Seeing him gulp it like a kid in thirst made him smile sadly at the prince. “Do you want more?”

“No.” Jungkook cleared his throat, “the court…” “oh! Yes! There’s very happy news coming today from the court, especially for you.” He blinks, gulping. “What is it?” “Princess’s request has been accepted. The royal brothel will be removed from the castle and will reevaluated as whatever she wants it to be.” A satisfying smile spreads on jungkook’s lips, “good. Call the doctor.”

Jemmy nods and walks out, Jungkook stares at the ripped shirt wrapped around him. He chuckled at your triple knots, they were so intact and tight that they didn’t budge a bit even in his sleep. The doctor came and applied herbs and stem juices to quickly heal his wound. Preferably, she also told him to take Critical care to not move his arm, he might’ve broken a few bones too.

“It will be fine in a few days, though it needs to be changed every three to four days, I’ll stop by.” She bows as Jungkook nods, “Okay. You shall leave.” She took her belongings and left. Jungkook puffed out air, “Jemmy!”

Jemmy scrubbed his other arm. “I met your dear friend, sir jimin on the staircase. He asked how are you, I’m so sorry prince. I should’ve been here when you were in so much pain last night. I was unaware.” Jungkook shook his head, “it’s fine.” Jemmy clears his throat, “Dare I ask prince, you couldn’t have wrapped such knots all by yourself. Did someone help you? Just asking so I could thank them!” Jungkook chuckled, shifting in the tub.

“Yes. Princess did.” Jemmy’s eyes widened so wide he almost gasped but gulped it down quickly. “Oh. That’s good. I’ll make sure I’m grateful enough for it. I apologise again.” “Shut up.” Jemmy gulps and adds water over the toned, muscular, bruised body of his master. “Why don’t we use the bigger bathe area anymore? You even made Tyro bathe here. And even with your bathing ceremony with the princess.”

Jungkook looked at Jemmy, “Because I don’t like it. Now quit asking questions and get done quickly.” This time his tone was a bit harsh as Jemmy nodded, “I apologise.”

“Congratulations princess.” Simon said as you gulped, “Thank you.” You walked towards the castle. “Don’t we deserve a little treat for that!?” His voice echoes as you sprint, “You don’t!” You frowned at the crowd of people, a bunch of Women protesting against you as you followed the king and stood before him. Eyeing every servant and guard closely, he raised his brows at you.

“Is there something wrong, princess?” You exhaled, “Why did you do that?” You bite your lower lip, “why did you go against the whole court?” He hums, thinking for an answer. He looks at your face, white beard, crown on his head, wrinkly skin, sinful eyes. “Because I want to see how far can you go.”

He smiles, you gulp. “Now will you excuse us, m’lady?” He pats your shoulders and walks away with his parade. You frowned, eyes roaming at every person you could catch. Fingers tapping against your thigh anxiously, “Who could it be…if not him?” “Princess!”

You gasp at Jemmy. “Oh did I scare you? I’m so sorry.” You shook your head, “No..you didn’t. Why are you here?” He smiles charmingly, “I came to say thank you to you. For last night, I was unaware of his condition, you should’ve just called for me.” You swat your hand, roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway-like place to the main hall of the castle. “You shouldn’t be thanking me but your master should be apologising for such childlike behaviour.”

He sighs, “That’s true. But you know what is he like.” You disappointingly shook your head, “very well.” He smiled even though you’re not even looking at him. “You should go and look after him. Did the doctor come?” He nods, “I called her immediately after he woke up.” “Good.”

You squint at the plate of food ahead of you. “Congrats?” You looked up at Jungkook who sat ahead of the large dining table and picked a good red shiny apple, munching on it. “How terrible this life has to get to see you before sleeping and at my breakfast table.” He shrugs, “Say how more blessed can you get.”

You roll your eyes, you stare at Jungkook munching on his apple like a hawk. You almost asked him, but he’d probably flip the table and murder you. So you held back, picking up your spoon instead. “Have you heard from Hoseok?” You asked, taking a bite. “Uh-huh, he’s doing well, jasper has been reevaluating, and labourers are travelling.”

You hum and nod, “And about the killer?” He scoffed, “That’s on you, remember? You promised to find him.” You gulped and looked up at his face, smiling. “Trust me, I’m so very close.”

“You’ve been staring at your food for so long, princess. are you okay?” The king’s voice broke the chain train of your thoughts. You looked up, embarrassed. Jungkook glancing right beside you, “Oh um, I apologise. I’ve been too tired lately.” He nods, “Sleep well, don’t let all these politics and warfare make you a ghost.” He looked at Jungkook wrapped in cloths, “and how did that happen?”

Jungkook glanced midst his chewing, “fought with tae.” He sighs, “You are not kids anymore. It was fine when you were. Quit being reckless for once.” It was the same family dinner, with about five guards around the table. “I’ll take care.” He says and the king sighs, “It feels nice to sit back down here again. It’s all crusty back in the chambers.”

You swirled your Wine as you walked back to your chambers, you glanced at Jemmy, then gave a known look to jimin who was walking down the stairs. “Do you always have to smell this strong every day?” You looked at Jungkook, “You have made remarks about me smelling good about fifteen times already. Quit it.” You say and notice Jemmy running away, probably dismissed.

You walked toward your room until he held your wrist as you yelped, “Why do you keep running away from me?” He frowned, you sigh. “Just because I showed you human decency for once doesn’t mean I’m starting to like you, Jungkook.” You say and try to free your wrist, “You know you’re lying to yourself with this one.” You glanced at him and freed your wrist, about to say something but a servant came running upstairs.

“Good evening, princess. Lord Kim has sent a message that eighteen soldiers have been slaughtered by Nicarta on the south borders of Kyrell. And they’re barging into towns and holding people hostages.” You frowned, and Jungkook turned to her. “What!?” He ran down the stairs, “where is he!? How the hell did this happen?!”

You quickly walked up to your chambers only to find Jemmy messing with your drawers, he looked at you, green small potion bottles as you gulped and closed the doors. “I knew it.”

tagging: @kookxin @orcakills @starlight-1010 @jeon-ruby @seokout @jeonqky

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

to build a home | chapter thirteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: angst. angst. angst. i’m so sorry. jealousy. self doubt. ira talks im sorry!!! but i felt like it was important. oblivious kookie :/ confused oc!! sad oc :( soori’s teething and it breaks my heart. oral (f receiving) 😈 

Author’s note:  hi besties!! another tbah sunday! i love being back soo much. this is an odd chapter, i feel. i sort of lost track of time and how much of it i actually had to finish so it’s a bit of a shorter one. it’s missing the final part, sort of. and it was making me anxious! because i wanted to post today. and then i remembered i make the rules so… chapter fourteen is coming no longer than wednesday!! it’s outlined and it’ll be what was missing in this chapter. we’re back to tbah sundays after that tho :)  i love u guys so much. do let me know what u think of this chappie, i love book clubbing with yall!! xoxo

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Thirteen 

When you get home that night, you smell like him. It alters your senses, your body nothing but a phantom touch of where he’d been. You look at yourself in the mirror and laugh at how obvious his mark is. He doesn’t just show on your smudged mascara or your messy hair, no. He’s all over your eyes. You can’t tell if the glint in them is from the remnants of the pleasure he made you feel or from the tears that threaten to fall. And perhaps that’s just what you need. To cry. Not with feminine rage music playing in the background, or in a burst of anger, but just to cry. To let yourself feel whatever it is your heart needs to. You can feel it, the way it screams at you and begs you to just let it be. 

So you let it. You shower, letting your tears get lost in the water that falls down your body. You cry when you let yourself release the feeling and you cry when you wash him off your body, his smell going down the drain alongside your anger. Now you’re just sad. 

You cry your skincare off and give up on it tonight. You brush your hair until you can’t stare at yourself in the mirror anymore, because it just makes you cry more. For some reason the reflection that stares back at you convinces you that this is why he doesn’t love you. You look like a little child, hopeless and helpless. Eyes puffy, bared faced, in your old pajamas with the faded print that once said, born to be cute. You’ve had them since you were fifteen and all of a sudden, your nostalgic attachment feels dumb. You feel dumb. And pathetic. And sad. Your brain is cruel, letting you know exactly what it thinks. How could he want to be with someone like this? Like you? It’s almost ironic how your words of hatred all originate from words of love. From the words of love he didn’t reciprocate. 

You think of Ira, because the streak of cruelty couldn’t just end there. You think of her beauty, of her face. You wonder if she ever felt like this about herself. If she ever stared at the mirror and didn’t feel like the reflection staring back at her was enough. You don’t want to be unfair towards her, but you doubt it. You doubt someone like her could ever walk into a room with uncertain steps and words that faltered. All you can see when you look at her is confidence and beauty. Her and Jungkook made sense together. It almost felt like a perfect trick from the universe – a power move. 

You get under your covers, exhausted and with the hints of a headache that threatens to settle aggressively if you kept the tears running. You hug the teddy bear you’d grown emotionally attached to when you were six. It makes you feel pathetic yet again, but it also brings comfort and so you pull it closer to you. You wonder if you’ll ever fully grow up. The heart ache turns into something bigger, something downright existential and it won’t stop. Even if you tell yourself that it’s irrational, that things just look bad right now but won’t be like this forever. The self doubt roots inside of you, growing branches that grow through your body. Will you ever become something out of who you are right now? Will you write a book, buy a house, travel the world, start a family? The last one breaks you with a nature that’s so acute it brings back the tears. 

You grab your phone, an intense desire to type Ira Sommersmith into the search bar. You find it kind of funny – to be comparing yourself to someone that you can literally google. When did you ever stand a chance with him, really? When did it ever make sense that he’d choose you? When did it occur to you that you were enough?

Ira was from a small town in Europe you couldn’t pronounce. When she was younger she spent most of her time riding horses, they were her biggest passion. She even says it in an interview after they ask her what she thinks she’d be doing if she wasn’t a model, pondering on it for a second before replying, “I’d be in a farm, riding horses all day.” And even though her hair is perfectly styled and she’s wearing very pointy stilettos, you believe her. Her dreams sound completely valid to you because amidst her sharp features, she has a soft face. 

Another article tells you she’d been scouted when she was sixteen. She’d been on holiday in London with her parents – she was an only child – and she’d gotten stopped in the street. In another interview where she talks about this, she laughs timidly when they ask her, her gaze down when she says, “they told me I was beautiful in the way things in important places where. Like magazines and billboards,” she softens the flattery by saying, “if you consider those things to be important, of course.” And it’s during that interview that you realize you can’t hate her. Not because you don’t want to, but because she makes it really hard to. 

She’d been on her own ever since – traveling the world, walking the most important catwalks in the most important cities, grazing the covers of every magazine and billboards, she’d even made a couple of movie appearances. You wonder how you could’ve missed her. She seemed to be everywhere. She sits on a makeup chair, two people behind her doing her hair at the same time, while someone else works on her face. She talks about having had a 4 am call time, sleeping very little the night before, being jet lagged and hungry. But she laughs as she says this. You almost laugh, too. The camera man asks her how she keeps up with the hecticness and she doesn’t sit on her words for even a second before she says, “I have a really great support system. My family, my friends. Also, I always keep a snack on me.” The video shows pictures of her, in different settings, with said family and friends. You actually recognize some of the faces – actresses, models, influencers. You pause the video in the middle of a particular frame when you see a face you recognize better than the others. It’s Kenny. It’s probably the picture that dates back the furthest, they both look so young. You type their names into another Google search and their friendship is revealed to you in an almost too perfect of a timeline. They’d been friends since they were eighteen after meeting backstage at a Chanel show. Your eyes widen. A Chanel show. Holy fuck. Who were you acquainted with? Kenny almost looks like a different person behind the camera, her eyes fierce and face cold. 

You scroll and scroll until something catches your eye. It’s a paparazzi picture, taken in a big city you don’t recognize. Hobi has his arm around Kenny and Ira and Jungkook hold hands and look into each other’s eyes as they strut down a sidewalk. It looks straight out of a catalog, or something. They’re perfect. Then it’s his name alongside hers that you’re typing into the search bar. You’re surprised to find that their relationship had been quite private, not a lot of information about it on the web besides the basics. Forbes talks about Ira being a model, Vogue talks about Jungkook being the heir to The West End Collection. The anonymity their relationship holds brings some sort of frenzy, though, as you read a couple of tweets and posts that idolize their relationship. Strangers wishing them the best, looking up to them, wishing they could have a boyfriend just like him. Another perfect paparazzi shoot of them at the beach, Jungkook picking Ira up from behind, mid-spin. She’s radiant as she laughs, body clad in a white bikini thar reveals her perfect body. There’s over 300 comments under the picture. Someone says, “if my girl looked like that I’d be in a good mood for the rest of my life.”

And you get it. You get it because she’s beautiful, and talented and easygoing. She’s confident but humble and when she speaks, you can see the way she thinks about the words before they leave her, making her sound so very eloquent. She’s gentle and dainty and her voice is soft. The more you scroll, the more you form these thoughts inside your head and then you find the perfect word to describe her: gracious. Elegant is a close second. 

Your eyes feel heavy and it’s nearly two a.m.. Your phone screen illuminates your face as another video plays. She’s being asked 73 questions. 

“What’s something you can’t live without?”

“My boyfriend.”

“So, you’re in love.”

She nods, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“He’s the love of my life.”

~

Your body aches with exhaustion, courtesy of your late night perusing. Your gaze gets lost on the fruit you’re cutting at a lethargic pace and you don’t even react when you lose grip on the knife and it comes dangerously close to cutting through your skin. 

Mrs. Chae walks over to you, but you don’t notice her proximity until she’s placing a coffee cup in front of you, her movements gentle, like she understands. When you look up at her and smile, she smiles back, briefly caressing your arm before she’s back to busying herself with her morning responsibilities. Her kindness makes you want to cry. 

You hear Soori’s cries long before she enters your line of vision, and when she finally does, she’s pouting and squinting her eyes before letting out another long wail. 

“Oh, my sweet baby,” you walk over to them, running your hands down her cheeks, wiping her tears away. She turns around, nuzzling her face between Jungkook’s neck. 

“She’s been in pain since she woke up. I gave her a bottle and some Tylenol but nothing helps.” Jungkook rocks her from side to side, hand coming to cup her little head to try and comfort her, but her cries only get louder. 

“It’s okay, the medicine will kick in soon and I’ll keep her as comfortable as I possibly can,” you reassure him, but he still looks miserable, guilt settling in the closer he gets to having to leave.

“I hate to leave her like this.”

“You’re not leaving her. You’ll be back home soon. It’s okay, Jungkook, she’s going through a totally normal process. As painful as it is for her, she’ll be fine.”

He nods and she seems to calm down, too, turning around as if following the sound of your voice. She stares at you for a second and you smile and even though she doesn’t reciprocate it, she falls into your arms the way she does every morning. 

“Hi, baby,” you kiss her chubby cheeks. “You’ll be alright. Say, I’m gonna be okay daddy!” It’s sweet music to your ears as you get a little chuckle out of her when you raise her little arm. 

Jungkook stares at her, lovingly. He stares at you lovingly, too, only you’re too busy being sad to notice. You can barely look into his eyes. 

“I’ll probably be late today again, w-”

“We’ll be here. And I’ll be with her. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, ___.”

And all you can do is smile at him, only allowing yourself to stare into his eyes for a brief second, because any longer could break you further and he’d have no other choice than to know. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing – you’re smart enough to know that. But the side of you that can barely handle your feelings wonders how hard it’d be to share them, yet again, with him. Your heart, achey as ever reminds you that it was the shared feelings he couldn’t do anything about that land you right where you are now. 

You decide to be with your sadness, alone. 

~

Soori’s pain comes in waves. In the morning she’s fuzzy, then after breakfast she seems to be doing a little better. You two play in the garden and you let her get messy with watercolors. She’s distracted enough for all of two hours, which you deem a success in your book. She cries again as you put her down for her nap. She cries until she tires herself and you hold her through it all. When you try to put her down on her crib, she wakes up, tears threatening to leave her eyes again, and so you hold her and sit down on the rocking chair, letting her sleep on you. You let her sleep as much as she needs and when she wakes up, you have drool all over your shirt. You smile, knowing that’s a clear sign that it was a deep and successful nap.

She’s good during lunch time and then fuzzy again afterwards. She throws a block at you and you hate that you have to give her the gentle talk when she’s in such visible pain. But she’s good and she listens and when she nuzzles herself into your arms ten minutes later, you know it’s because she’s sorry. She’s so smart and it’s beginning to show in every aspect of her. 

You read her books, even as she cries halfway into the third, eventually falling asleep. You let her snooze in your arms once again, but try to keep the nap short so she can have a good night’s sleep. She’s a bit groggy and unhappy when you wake her up but she gets straight to playing afterwards. You make her a snack and it seems to be going well until she’s back to restless tears. It kind of reminds you of when you’d first met her, when you were certain about having obliterated your chances at getting to spend time with the “cute baby”. She cries and cries and yet all you can think of is how grateful you are that you got the job, by some odd chance and one hell of a lot of luck. 

You stare out into the garden as you rock her in your arms. Your exhaustion is starting to get the best of you and you’re relieved when she begins to calm down, her sobs turning into tiny sniffles and her head falling into your shoulder. You give her back soft, little pats as she relaxes in your hold. And right as you think she’s about to fall asleep, her head springs up and you hear her say,

“Dada!”

You turn around, surprised eyes on Jungkook as he makes his way inside the living room. He smiles at Soori, who jumps in your hold when he outstretches his arms in her direction as he greets her sweetly. 

“Hi, baby,” he takes her in his arms, lathering kisses all over her cheeks. She giggles and you smile in relief because it’s so good to see her so happy. “Daddy’s home! Did you miss me?” she claps her hands as if agreeing with him and he laughs, kissing all over her face.

“You’re home early,” you say, a small smile on your face as you take in the scene before you.

He takes a step forward, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you. It takes you by surprise but you let him. The kiss is deep but soft and it lasts longer than you’d expect. You feel his smile on your lips long before he pulls away. 

“We closed the deal,” he says. “It’s done. We did it.” 

You smile, hugging him to you. Your face to his chest and words muffled when you say, “congratulations.” 

Soori taps on your shoulder, whining as she gets smothered between the two of you, making you both laugh as you stare at her. She looks confused and pouty, can’t decide who she wants to entertain first. She smiles at you before she’s nuzzling her head against her father’s neck. Jungkook does a little jump and she shrieks in excitement, looking back at you and smiling again. 

“I want to celebrate,” he says.

“You should. I know how hard you’ve been working for this, it deserves a celebration.” 

“With you.” He pulls you closer once again. “And Soori. Us three. We can have dinner somewhere nice, what do you think?”

You ponder on his words, suddenly being hit with the exhaustion you’ve been carrying since the morning tenfold. You also think about the way your heart has been actively breaking since last night, and probably for the past two weeks. You look at his face, a big smile that makes him look young and carefree. In times like these you convince yourself that you see him like no one in the world can. 

“I don’t know, I-” you try, but the minute you see his smile drop, it’s impossible to keep up the cold front. “I don’t have anything fancy to wear.” you follow your lies with a smile. 

He kisses you again. “You don’t need to.”

“I’d have to go change though.”

“We can stop by your place,” he runs his hand through your hair. 

“Okay,” your voice is faint. Barely there.

“Great!” He turns to Soori, bouncing her in his arms. “I need to call Jin, run him through some final protocols. I’ll be twenty minutes tops and then we can go.” 

He says this in a hurry, making his way to his office already. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He looks at you, confused. “Huh,” and then it hits him as Soori chuckles. “Oh! Shit. Yeah.” He laughs, passing her over to you. “I’ll be right back.”

He kisses her forehead, then yours. When he turns around Soori looks at you. You stare back and shrug, making her laugh. 

“He’s funny, huh,” you say, and she laughs even louder. “Yeah, he is. You have a good daddy.”

And as much as your heart exhausts itself at your words, it knows that much is true. It just can’t help but wonder if it’s enough. 

~

You stand before your closet, hands on your hips as you attempt to find something that’s presentable enough for the very fancy and certainly very expensive restaurant Jungkook had chosen. French cuisine, classic interiors and a seasonal menu. You knew it was almost impossible to get a reservation because Lucy had studied their M.O. in class and often praised their chefs. In Jungkook’s case, the reservation was one call away and probably all but three minutes to finalize. He’d told you he frequented the place quite often and that they had, and you quote, a soft spot for him. 

You skim through your dresses, skirts, shirts, all a little frantically as you look at the time. You don’t have much of it, but luckily you’d done your makeup first thing, darkening your eyes a bit to distract from the fact that you wouldn’t be able to pull a dress that impressed. Your hair was in an updo that looked like it’d taken longer to perfect but in reality, you’d gotten lucky and got it just right the first time. 

You’re in nothing but your underwear, as if the power of your sight alone could make fancy little dresses magically appear. You don’t know what to do, and so you call Lucy. 

“Hello, you,” she greets sweetly.

“Lucy, I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve been well! How have you been, ___? Oh! I miss you, too.”

You laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “I miss you more than you miss me, I can guarantee that much.”

“Never,” she says, “what’s this fashion emergency about?”

“Well, we’re going to La Mélodie and-”

“Woah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“Date night, huh?”

You think about it. “Mm, something like that, sure. But I don’t know what to wear. I have nothing to wear!”

She goes silent for a second and you can hear her gears getting into motion. Finally she says,

“You do. But you’re not gonna like it. But you’re gonna have to hear me out.”

“Okay…”

“Do you remember that Halloween, well into your hoe era, that you wore that skimpy black dress and painted whiskers on your face and said you were a rat?”

You gasp. “I was a mouse.”

“Potatoe, potato.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I’m pretty sure I flashed like, three people that night. Involuntarily. Like, I actually had to apologize for it.”

“That’s to blame on tequila, not on the dress! It was a good dress. And I’m afraid it’s your only option so you better buddy up with it!”

“Great. I guess I’ll be the slutty nanny tonight.”

“That’s a great porn title, make good use of it!”

“Lucy. Soori will be joining us.”

“Why is the baby joining you? No offense to the baby. But why?”

“Long story. I’ll catch you up later. I love you. Thank you.”

She sends flying kisses to you before hanging up. It takes you a minute to commit to it, but you get the dress out, examining it top to bottom. Yep, still skimpy. But it’ll have to do. You throw it over your body and walk towards your mirror. The reflection that looks back at you looks nothing like the sad, puffy eyed girl from last night. No, you look hot. Yes, it’s a bit short, but Lucy was right, it’s nowhere near as bad as you remember. It hugs your ass perfectly, drawing over your curves and pushing your tits upwards the right amount. There’s not much to it, just a little black dress, but you certainly do bring it to life. You throw a pair of heels on, cursing them the moment you feel the way it arches your feet in an inhumane way, and brave yourself up for the night. 

When you leave your room, Jungkook’s jaw drops. It drops in such a visible manner that he has to collect himself and close his mouth before he makes a fool out of himself. It’s your face he fixates on first. He tries to wrap his brain around what it is that makes you look so different, yet still beautiful in the way he’s so very used to when it comes to you. It’s your eyes, he thinks. The dark eyeshadow you’ve smudged on them in such a subtle but notable way. It makes your eyes big and bright but they make your gaze fall a little bit, making him feel things in the pit of his stomach. Then his own eyes scan down, taking their time to take in your body. Your dress looks painted on and his breath hitches in his throat, letting him know it was gonna be a long night if this is what one minute of you in this dress was doing to him. But what resounds the loudest in his head is that, simply put, you looked beautiful, taking up the entire meaning of the word. 

“I’m ready,” you say, letting your arms awkwardly fall next to your body, giving him a tight lipped smile. 

Soori’s enthralled by an episode of Bluey that plays on your TV screen, and so Jungkook walks over to you, granting himself the luxury to simply perceive you and enjoy the view. He smiles, and though he doesn’t mean to, it’s seductive. It makes your tummy flutter, the ever so evident butterflies that never seem to leave. 

“Fuck dinner.” He stands in front of you, leaving you wide eyed and your mouth agape at his words.

“Language,” you say, looking over at Soori. 

“She doesn’t care about us right now, trust me,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him. “You,” his hand travels down your lower back, tempting to go lower but he stops himself, “look so beautiful.” 

“Thanks,” your words are soft as you smile at him, wrapping your hands around his neck, letting his attention warm you all over. 

One of his hands travels up, landing on your cheek, gently cupping the side of your face and you close your eyes, letting the weight of your head fall into it. His thumb brushes your skin and just as you’re about to wish for it, he puts his lips on yours. He hums against them, taking his time, tasting you, letting your smell hit his senses until all he can think about is you. His tongue parts your lips, deepening the kiss as he flushes his chest to yours. You can’t fight it. You can’t deny him, you can’t even remember why it is that you were trying to just a couple of seconds ago. In between kisses and touch, you submit to him. 

He pulls away, looking into your eyes before he says, “see? I don’t need dinner. That was a great entree.”

You laugh, playfully hitting his chest. “You do have a tongue on you, that’s for sure.”

Your words aren’t meant to come off the way they do. Your intentions are a play on words to let him know he was being witty to get his way, but alas, they have him raising his eyebrows at you, a smirk adorning his lips. 

“Oh,” is all he says. 

“No, I mean,” you stall on your words, mind already transfixed on the other truth to your statement. “Because that was clever. What you said,” you stutter, “you get me.”

“Sure,” he says, nodding his head and pouting his lips, making you laugh and roll your eyes. 

“Well, it should be a quick dinner,” he says, letting go of you. “I’m already half full.”

“See? That's what I meant with the- the tongue thing.”

He hums, taking one last look at you before walking over to Soori, her mouth open as she focuses on her show. “Don’t hate me, please,” he says, as he picks her up from the couch and turns the TV off. She cries and you laugh a little at the way he apologizes to her over and over again. 

“Aw, Soo Soo,” you coo at her, and when she sees you, she throws herself into your arms, hiding between your neck as soft whines leave her mouth in expert crocodile tears. 

Jungkook chuckles at the scene before him, but in a matter of seconds the image hits him like a ton of bricks. The way you hold her, beautiful as ever as you fix the skirt of her blue dress, fingers brushing through her hair, careful not to ruin the pigtails and bows you’d carefully perfected as you got her ready. 

It’s picture perfect, he thinks. A sight he could get used to. 

~

“Welcome back to La Mélodie, Mr Jeon,” a sweet voice trapped in a 6 foot, long legged, blonde haired body greets you at the entrance. Her voice is so sweet, in fact, that you see where the soft spot he was talking about comes from. 

“Hi, Lily,” he says. “Thank you for getting us in such short notice.”

Lily.

“It’s my pleasure, Jungkook.”

Jungkook?

She smiles at Soori, who looks at her with a blank stare before she’s nuzzling her face on her dad’s chest. She then smiles at you and it takes everything in you to return the gesture so politely. Inside, you’re rolling your eyes and probably pulling a face as you imitate the way she says Jungkook emphasis on the J. 

“This way,” she says, walking towards the center of the restaurant as she guides you to your table. You don’t miss the way she swings her hips as she walks, turning around ever so swiftly as she lets her long, blonde hair fall over her shoulder. 

You feel insane. No, really. Jealousy is such an odd feeling. A foreign one, too. You’d never been a jealous person before – to be quite honest, it wasn’t because you were overly confident or uninterested. It was simply because you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice if someone was a “threat” or had bad intentions. Or perhaps deep down, you never truly cared. Oftentimes, it was Lucy that had to alert you on these things, pointing out how it was right there, under your nose! But you failed to see it every time. Not anymore, though. It’s clear as day and it stands right in front of you wearing very dark red lipstick. 

You can feel Lily’s eyes on you as Jungkook opens the chair for you, and she disguises her vitriol with a smile as you sit down. He puts Soori in her high chair and finally sits down himself. He smiles at her, thanking her again and she winks at him. Yes, winks. Your mouth drops, quite literally. Her action is so bold it’s almost admirable in your eyes. You wonder if you could ever be such a go-getter, even if it made you vicious. 

He shifts uncomfortably on his seat, looking up at you and not missing the shock that laces your face. He wonders if he should say something, but before he can come up with anything of substance, the waiter is by the table. 

“Mr. Jeon,” he bows his head politely, “and Miss…” 

You stare at him in confusion, opting for giving him your name. 

“___.”

“Miss ___,” he says, and you smile. You don’t see this, but Jungkook smiles in endearment, hand in a fist over his mouth as he covers his chuckle with a cough. 

As the waiter recites the magic behind their seasonal menu, the main ingredients they’re using this month, and today’s specialties, Jungkook looks around him. He recognizes a couple of faces and doesn’t miss the way their eyes take in the scene, dancing from him to you, and then Soori, in confusion. It suddenly dawns on him that you don’t quite look like the nanny tonight. Not that he owes any of these people an explanation, or that he cares about what they think, or what they’ll say. He’s very much past that, and has never lingered too much on it, anyway. But the more their faces turn from shock to plain confusion, the more he realizes that it’s only been a couple of months – three, to be exact – since Ira left. He wishes he didn’t, but he understands the shocked expressions. He understands why they must be thinking what they must be thinking. 

His eyes land on you, fixating on the way you gently nod as you smile to the waiter, listening to him intently. The sight of you alone makes him think, to hell with what they think. The waiter says he’ll give you a minute to look over the menu, and Jungkook orders a bottle of his favorite white wine. He’d go for red on nights like these, but he knows you prefer light, sweet flavors and so he caters to you, without you even knowing. 

“Are you happy,” you ask, a smile on your face as your eyes meet his.

“Very much.”

“You know, I know I said it yesterday, before our little… altercation,” he smiles, remembering the acts that took place in his kitchen. “But it’s all quite unreal to me. And I truly am in awe of… you.”

“I’m in awe of you.” There’s no hesitation in his words.

You shy. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“This night is about you. To celebrate you.”

“Exactly,” he says, “so let me do as I please.”

“Okay,” is all you say, because his soft demeanor and flattery are going straight to your head, looking past your heart that still breaks. 

“On that topic,” he begins, crossing his hands over the table, “I want to head to our beach house this weekend.”

What is it with rich people and beach houses? Do they all have one?

“That sounds nice… you can rest and relax. Recover from the week and all.”

“Yeah. I want everyone to come,” he refers to his friends. “Jin and Seulgi already confirmed.”

 “That sounds wonderful, Kook.” You’re kind of grateful he’s going to be away this weekend, so you don’t have to make up excuses to avoid him and you can bed rot in peace. 

“Yeah. I’m excited. I wanna go sailing and we can grill every night,” he says.

“Hm,” you nod, smiling. You think of all the TV shows you’ve been wanting to start, pondering over the list to pick a winner. 

“We leave Saturday morning.” 

“Great!” You think of pizza and brownie fudge Ben & Jerry's.

“And don’t worry, we’re not taking the plane.”

You laugh. And then you get it. 

“Huh?”

He’s equally as confused. “What?”

“The plane?”

“Yeah. You were kinda scared the last time. Plus, it’s only two hours by car.”

“I’m going?”

“Uh- yeah? I mean- I know book club is on summer break for the next three weeks so I thought- but if you’re busy or something,” he doesn’t know what to say anymore so he just lets his last words linger. 

“Oh,” I mean, you are his nanny. Isn’t it expected for you to go to these things? Just like you did the last time. He’s about to say something else, but you interrupt him, “sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He smiles as he nods at you, but it’s an uncertain smile. Like he doesn’t quite know what just happened. Soori calls you guys’ attention when she slams her plushie against the table, giggling as she plays, letting her imagination take over. Jungkook runs his hand over her head.

“I’m excited to spend time with her. I’ve missed her this week.”

“She missed you, too. It’s gonna be good for the two of you to spend time together.”

“I’m excited to spend time with-”

“Would you like to taste the wine, Mr Jeon?”

With you, is what Jungkook was going to say, before the waiter interrupted. Not that he’s to blame. If anything, Jungkook is. 

“Yes, thank you.”

The wine is good. Excellent, even. Like nothing you’ve tasted before. It’s sweet and fruity, but very light. You’re very much used to cheap liqueur and even cheaper wine, so getting to jump to the other side and try the other extremes is nice for a change. The whole night pans out like that – pleasant and delicious. The food, the wine, the dessert. You talk, swoon over Soori. At one point you ask something that makes Jungkook dive into a more elaborate explanation of what his job consists of. You let him speak, mostly because you’re interested, partly because you’re too exhausted to say anything of substance yourself. 

Lily brings over the bill, and you can hear the clinking of her heels from a mile away. She smiles as she walks over to the table, even before Jungkook acknowledges her. She’s ready to pounce. 

“How was everything?”

“Delicious as always, please do congratulate the chef for me.”

“I’m sure he’d love to hear it from you. Don’t you wanna stop by the kitchen before you head out?”

Gasp. She is so bold. God, does she fear nothing?

Jungkook laughs, awkwardly, as he signs the check. “I’m afraid we have to get going, this little one’s past bedtime.”

“Aw,” she says, and it’s not directed at Soori, no. It’s disappointment that’s so evident in her voice. “But it was so fun the last time.”

Last time, you almost say. Quite frankly, for a second you think the words have left you, because both their eyes are on you. Lily’s are laced with twisted pride, and Jungkook’s are apologetic. 

“Thank you, again, Lily,” is all he says. 

“My pleasure, Jungkook.” She bats her eyelashes at him, a saccharine smile she throws his way before she’s turning around and making her grand exit.

You stare at Jungkook, watching as he reaches for his glass of water, taking a big sip, gulping loudly. 

“What happened the last time that was so fun?”

“Nothing,” he says, bringing the glass back to the table a little sternly. “I know the chef. He’s helped me recruit a couple of chefs for The West End. That’s all.”

“Ah,” is all you say. 

“I don’t know what that was about. She wasn’t even- I mean, she was there, but it was mostly him and I speaking. She’s his niece.”

“I see.”

“Baby,” he says, nearly whines. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m just tired. I’m probably just irritable because of that,” you mask your jealousy with a chuckle.

Jungkook reaches across the table, wrapping his hand around yours. You wince a little, looking around you, feeling slightly exposed. 

“Hey,” he says. “Look at me.”

“Yes.”

He laughs at your sudden nervousness. “Stay with me tonight?”

“But Mrs Chae-”

“I gave her the day off. I’m going late into the office tomorrow. We can sleep in a little bit. I want you to stay. Please?”

Your heart begs you to at least think about it for a second. A split second, even! But the efforts are unsuccessful, and you don’t hesitate when you say,

“Okay.”

~

Jungkook’s shower is your favorite place in the world. 

Well, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic. 

Or perhaps it’s completely understandable, all things considered. You remember when there was a time you didn’t believe in shower sex. Not because you didn’t think it was real, but because you couldn’t believe people actually enjoyed it. There was nothing to enjoy about it, in your humble opinion. And humble it was, because these four walls can testify about the way you became a woman of faith the moment you experienced what you liked to call premium shower sex. 

You let the water cascade from your head down your body, relaxing your muscles as the massage jets hit just where you need them the most. Jungkook was putting Soori to bed and he’d suggested you take a shower in the meantime. And so here you were, contemplating. You think of staying here, waiting until he’s back, letting him get in the shower with you. Letting him do whatever he wants to you, really. That’s the truth of it all. 

But you don’t. You don’t because you try to be reasonable. Sex won’t solve this, if last night is to tell. And boy, was it loud and clear. So you get out, enjoying a couple extra minutes running his warm, fluffy towels over your body, brushing your hair, doing your skincare with his fancy products and spending way too much time, yet again, picking a shirt to sleep in. You opt for a simple Calvin Klein tee, pleased at the softness. 

When he makes his way to the room, you’re already in bed, Sense and Sensibility in hand as you read. He stops, taking you in before you can see him. He thanks the universe for making his dreams from last weekend come true. You smile at him, eyes following his steps as he comes to your side of the bed, planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m gonna shower, won’t be too long.”

“Enjoy,” you say. 

He turns around, about to make his way to the bathroom but before he can get far enough he’s turning back, walking towards you again. You look up, stars on your eyes is what Jungkook can swear he sees. 

“Thank you for staying. And for coming to dinner. That,” he pauses and you hear the hint of nervousness that takes on his tone of voice, “was good. I mean, that meant a lot to me, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Of course, Kook.”

He kisses you. It’s short and sweet, leaves you craving more as your lips feel his absence right away. 

The minute he’s out of sight, your heart sends a question shooting straight at your brain. It’s aggressive and angry. 

What are you doing?

Its simplicity holds deception. The simple answer would keep the whole thing contextual: he wants you to be here, he asked you to be here. You celebrated an important night with him and now you’re in his bed because isn’t that what you do? The last words get your heart going, beating faster with complexity. It says, no! It is not what you do. Or perhaps it’s what you do with your boyfriend, which he is not, by the way. Your own cruel words make you wince. Your heart opts for a softer approach, simply reminding you that you’re not doing yourself any favors. That playing house with the person that has made you question pretty much everything about both life and love in the past couple of weeks isn’t the best way to make sound decisions. That with every kiss you’re reminded of why you love him, and with every kiss he reminds you that perhaps to him, it’s just a kiss. A kiss that holds affection, sure. But not a kiss that holds love. Your incessant thinking makes you wonder if what you ask for isn’t too much. You wonder if it makes sense to want him to love you the way you did him. You couldn't ask that of him, at the end of the day. You couldn’t ask that of anyone. 

Sense and Sensibility is long forgotten, your brain too loud to make sense of the words you read. You turn to your side, cozying up against the pillows. You try to close your eyes but every time you do the images that play in your head are somewhat crazier than your thoughts. You toss and turn and simply opt for keeping a soft gaze towards the ceiling, focusing on your breath and trying to remember what Lucy’s meditation tapes you can sometimes hear in the mornings say. 

“You okay,” you hear Jungkook ask before you can see him. He chuckles at the sight of you. 

He walks closer to the bed, one towel wrapped very low around his hips as he runs another through his hair, drying it. Little droplets falling over his body, making it glisten. You let yourself stare at him because the sight alone leaves you slightly speechless. You’re not proud of it, but another part of your body pitches in on your heart’s debate and says, this is why. 

“Yeah,” you finally muster the words, “can’t sleep that’s all.”

”Mm, yeah. That happens to me when I’m really tired sometimes. Bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, makes no sense.”

“It’s okay, just try to relax, baby.” His knee hits the mattress, hair towel discarded to the side as he makes his way to you. 

“Y-yeah, I’m trying,” your eyes follow his every move as he gets closer. 

His hands rest at your knees before he says, “I like this on you, by the way,” eyes zeroing in on his shirt.

“It’s comfy,” you say, eyes closing at the feel of his fingers gently roaming down your legs. 

“Keep it, baby.”

“No, I like it on you more.”

He laughs. “It’s okay, I have plenty.”

He opens your legs, inching closer before he lets himself gently fall on top of you. Your fingers thread through his wet hair, pushing it back. 

“I’m having the best night ever,” he says, playful eyes on yours as you both laugh. 

“You must be easy to please,” you say.

“Depends on who’s doing the pleasing,” he watches the way your gaze flutters before your eyes close at the anticipation of his lips on yours. And when he finally kisses you, you both sigh, falling into it. It’s slow, just allowing your lips to lazily move against one another’s. You run your fingers through his hair, nails softly running down his scalp and it makes him groan in satisfaction. You push your body further down into the mattress, letting your legs fall open as Jungkook settles better between them. A moan escapes your lips as the motion has him pressing his cock into you. 

“Kook, I’m really tired, I don’t think I’ll handle it.”

He shakes his head, kissing you again. He doesn’t pull away as he says, “no. I want to make you feel good, baby. You don’t have to do anything.” He looks at you, eyes closing in pleasure when he pushes his hips against yours. “Please?”

You nod, a little caught in the feeling. “Okay.”

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Jungkook,” you say, turning your face away from him in a timidness that he finds so endearing. 

“Don’t ask me to stop saying it because I won’t,” he says, fingers finding your chin and turning your face to him again. He pecks your lips before he says, “fucking gorgeous.” You laugh, and he likes the sound of it and so he feathers kisses all over your face, down your neck where he knows it tickles, rejoicing on the way you giggle as you try to push him away. It’s hard for Jungkook to choose between the sweet sound of your laughter, or the way you moan when the last kiss he places against your neck ends with a tiny suckle. 

“Can I taste you, baby?” His voice is deep, right on your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Please,” and he loves the airiness the word has on your mouth. 

His kisses on your neck grow deeper, enticed by your moans and the way you pull at his hair, soft and hard. His mouth begins to travel down, letting his hands roam all over your body at a leisurely pace. He loves it when he can go slow, take his time, make pit stops on the parts of your body he loves the most. He loves your lips, and so he kisses them, snaking a hand down your shirt and cupping at your tits, drawing circles on your nipple with his thumb, making you squirm. You feel him smirk against your lips, always getting a little cocky at how well he can pull at your strings until pleasure is the only thing you can think of. 

He pushes the soft material of your shirt away, lips kissing down your chest until they’re closing around your nipple. A throaty moan leaves you and you circle your hips, making Jungkook hiss as his cock jumps from the contact alone. But he doesn’t want to focus on his immediate pleasure, no. He wants tonight to be about you. He wants to take his time with you – make you feel so good your body has no choice but to sleep the overwhelm off. 

His tongue plays with your nipple, in an ever so slow pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He lets his free hand touch all over your body, down your waist, squeezing your hips, nails scraping slightly at your thigh. He looks up at you, eyes meeting your hazy ones as he sucks on your nipple, biting gently when your fingers get tangled in his dark locks. He moves his hand closer to where you need him the most, tentative little touches that have you clenching in mere anticipation. 

“No teasing,” you warn.

“No fun,” he says, pouting before he’s biting your nipple again. 

But Jungkook just wants to make you feel good. He wants to give you what you want, he wants to hear you and feel you, and the thought of his tongue on your heat has him nearly salivating. And so he complies. You sigh when he presses his middle and ring finger against your clothed clit, tiny little circles that have you leaking in no time. He feels it, fingers dampening against the cotton of your underwear as his mouth kisses down your torso, leaving a wet trail on your tummy that makes you feel electric the moment he pulls away. His fingers hook inside the side of your panties, his touch soft. Too soft. 

“Take them off,” you say, no edge to your voice.

He does just that, pulling away for a second to roll the tiny fabric off your legs before he’s back on his tummy, between your legs, one of his own bent slightly as he gets comfortable. You find it so lewd – the way he enjoys this. The way he enjoys it when his eyes zero in on your cunt, glistening for him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” and his eyes never leave, following his index finger as it parts your slit. A low, controlled moan leaves his lips when he sees how wet you make his finger, how you leak for him. The tip touches at your clit, making you gasp before you’re letting out a moan. “And so sensitive, baby.” 

You’re a bit delirious but you manage to look at him as you nod, your voice so shaky when you say, “I need you- it’s been a while since I’ve had your mouth.”

His thumb circles your clit. “You’ll get my mouth, baby. But I just wanna see you for a little longer, ‘kay?” You nod again. “Prettiest fucking pussy.”

You’re about to shy away from his words but he wastes no time, pushing a finger inside of you, making you groan as your head hits the pillow. He tests the water, feels how tight you get around him, thumb still working your clit as he pushes a second one in. He pays attention to your moans, the jerk of your hips, his eyes never leaving you as you roll your lips between your teeth, arm hovering over your head before you’re hiding underneath it. 

“Look at me, ___.”

You do, eyes threatening to close as he picks up his pace, hitting that spot inside of you continuously, expertly matching your breath with each push and pull. 

“Fuck, I’m so close already,” you whine, closing your eyes for a second.

“Want my tongue, baby?”

“Fuck, Jungkook, please,” you plead, gasping when his index and middle finger press on your g-spot, tiny little movements against it. “Please.”

“I will, baby. God, how can I not?” His lips close around your clit, making you moan in sweet satisfaction. “You ask so nicely- fuck, ___, you taste so good, baby.” 

Jungkook is growing delirious, too, struggling to keep his own pleasure at bay, hips rutting against the mattress as he places little rhythmic suckles against your clit. You look down at him, eyes meeting his and he smiles. It’s dirty, bordering on obscene, but you love it. You love how much he loves making you feel good. 

“Like that, Kook,” you whisper, “shit, don’t stop.”

His tongue parts your folds, teasing your hole before he’s lapping at your pussy, spitting on it before his ministrations are back on your clit, sucking, licking, circling. You’re so wet, and so close, you can’t quite make out his actions. All you know is the white, warm feeling that takes over your body, making you a little lightheaded. His fingers push inside of you once again, making you clench around them, mouth parting in shock and pleasure. 

Jungkook hums against your pussy, eyes closing at the feel of you. “You’re so close, baby. Want me to make you cum?”

And the question alone could do it for you – in fact, you have to take a second to concentrate on not letting go. There’s something so fucking divine about him knowing exactly where he’s got you at. You nod, one airy, “please,” and that’s all he needs to finish you off. His fingers don’t go faster, but they go harder. His tongue focuses on your clit, silky flesh lapping determinedly at your nub, sucking on it when your legs begin to shake. 

“Oh, fuck- Jungkook,” you cum with his name on your tongue, letting out a little cry when you feel him moan against your pussy at the sound of his name. It’s too much, the way your muscles contract and then release, but you can’t get enough of it. “Don’t stop, Kook, please.”

He doesn’t. He milks you with his fingers, feeling the way you leak down his wrists, making a mess out of his mouth as you pull at his hair, nails digging on his scalp. You cum on his tongue, and you come down on it, too, letting yourself fall into him so quickly that the over-sensitivity has you pushing his head away with shaky hands. 

“Oh my fucking God.” You drop your head to the pillow behind you, hands covering your eyes as you try to regain your breath. Jungkook just stares at you, head resting on your inner thigh, smiling and drunk on you. He feathers one single kiss on the soft skin of your leg, and your body jumps a little, making him let out a boyish chuckle that makes your heart beat steadfast. You laugh, too. 

You let a couple of minutes linger on, the two of you sharing the same pillow, just laying in bed. You take a while to come back to your body and when you finally do, the exhaustion takes over. 

“Come here,” you tell him, and he obliges, body flushed on top of yours once again. Your hand travels down, feeling how hard he is. He hisses, his own hand closing around yours before he’s shaking his head. “Why? You’re so hard.”

“You’re tired. I just wanted to make you feel good. I’m okay, baby. More than okay, actually.”

“But,” you say, confusion lacing your words.

“Tomorrow. You need rest. I think I’ve succeeded at making you sleepy,” he laughs.

“Fuck, you really did.”

He lays back next to you, a sigh passing his lips before his head turns, meeting your eyes. 

“You know, you were right,” he says.

“What about?”

His smirk gives him away before his words can.

“I do have quite a tongue on me.”

~

★taglist★

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[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Chasing Cars | ch 11.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the events of ch 11 in jk's pov

☆word count: 1.2k

☆a/n: this one made me sad :( hope you guys like it! I've purposefully not put the full explanation bc it hits better later in the story sooo sorry about that. also just a note that depression sucks and I hope none of you guys have to deal with it and, if you do, please know that you aren't alone <3

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is annoyed. He’s been annoyed all day, and he really just wants to go home.

To go home to you.

“What’s got you sulking?” Jimin asks, and four pairs of eyes shoot towards Jungkook.

Indeed, they are at the restaurant for lunch, Gabrielle having joined them to eat on her lunch break from her internship. 

“Nothing,” Jungkook says, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long sip.

Taehyung frowns, yet remains silent. It’s been happening a lot frequently, and Jungkook has truly, really been annoyed by it.

“Missing OC?” Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a punch in the shoulder by Sera.

“Shut up,” she says as Jungkook clenches his jaw.

“Will you please fucking stop with that?” Jungkook lets out, unable to keep his ire from his voice.

Jimin’s gaze widens, and then he laughs. “Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Maybe because you’ve been a little shit about this the whole week?”

“You’re aware it’s making it seem like it’s true…”

“Stop, Jimin,” Sera intervenes, her tone stern and authoritative.

The only tone Jimin ever listens to. Indeed, Jimin stops, pouting, and he mumbles an apology. Jungkook ignores it, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, and he doesn’t miss the muscle feathering under Taehyung’s skin as he clenches his jaw.

“What?” Jungkook spits, unable to help himself.

“You fucking my sister?”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, his heart clenching in his chest. “Nope. You guys need to fucking leave me alone is all.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. This time, it’s Ariane’s turn to talk, and she does so with a pointed glare at Taehyung.

“I thought we said yesterday that we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.”

They did. Because scenes like this one have been happening the whole trip, and Jungkook really just wants to go home. The thought sticks around all day, up until they’ve had their shares of drink back at the Air Bnb, not feeling like going out.

Maybe Jungkook’s foul mood has been contributing to everyone’s lack of enthusiasm about going out, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d much rather stay at the Air Bnb, where he doesn’t have to avoid girls coming up to him trying to flirt.

Except Gabrielle. Though it’s not like that with Gabrielle, and he knows she’s a safe space. As much as someone can be without knowing about you - he reckons his only true safe space is you.

Perhaps that’s why he ends up sitting in his room with Gabrielle while the others chill in the living room. Partly to catch up, but also mostly to laugh at the absurdity of their parents wanting them to marry, as if they ever would.

“They’re crazy,” Gabrielle repeats for the hundredth time. “Complètement fou.”

Jungkook nods. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been like that since high school.”

Gabrielle chuckles, turning her head towards Jungkook. “Is your dad still an asshole?”

Jungkook winces, because he feels like his father has only been getting worse and worse with time, finding new ways to put Jungkook through hell all the time. Though the ignoring has been better than the fights and the constant insults he’d used to receive when he was younger, if he’s being honest.

“Yup. You really think someone like him could change for the better?”

Gabrielle slightly shakes her head. “Nah. People like our parents will die as shitty as they were the day they were born.”

Jungkook likes to think that his parents weren’t always like this. That, perhaps they were just corrupted by money growing up. But then again he can’t reconcile the image of his parents being kind to the one that he knows, that he’s known all his life.

So instead, he raises his beer. “Cheers to that.”

There’s a silence as Gabrielle drinks from the wine bottle she carried to the bedroom when they left the rest of the group back in the living room. Jungkook’s thoughts trail to you, and he wonders what you’re up to right now. You mentioned you were going out with your friends - are you already with them, or are you at home thinking about him like he’s thinking about you, too?

“What’s going on with Taehyung’s sister?” Gabrielle asks out of the blue.

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. And though he wishes to say everything, to tell Gabrielle about what he feels for you, he knows he can’t. Not as long as you haven’t said it’s okay to talk about it.

And not when Gabrielle would likely tell Ariane, and Ariane would then tell Taehyung.

“Not you too,” Jungkook grumbles, and he hopes Gabrielle can’t spy the blush slowly dusting his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears.

“I’m just wondering!” Gabrielle says, and she lets out a small laugh before pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen pictures, I feel like she would be your type.”

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound as he shrugs his shoulders.

“So?” Gabrielle presses.

“So what?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “Is something going on between you and her?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, preparing himself to lie to the one person that he’s never had to lie to before. “No.”

Gabrielle remains silent, the weight of her gaze on his profile heavy, and then she sighs. “Then, can I ask for your help?”

He stiffens. “What for?”

He knows what to expect - it’s the same as back when they were in high school, and she’d needed his help more than once then. Though he’d used not to mind, this time he hates it. So much so that he gets up, heading towards the door.

“Please,” Gabrielle says, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “S’il-te-plait, Jungkook.”

“No,” he reaffirms, turning to face her. He thinks of you, thinks of the last time he kissed you, and wishes he was with you right now. “I can’t do this again.”

“Just this once,” she insists. “And then I will never ever ask that of you again.”

He thinks of the years. He thinks of Gabrielle defending him when his father insulted him during a dinner, or that time at the charity. He thinks about every night they’d fallen asleep in the same bed dreaming about a day where they wouldn’t have to worry about their family’s influence anymore. He’d thought she’d be okay now, independent as she was, but it seems she hasn’t escaped the pressure of her family yet, much like him.

“Gaby, I really can’t…” he trails off, scanning her features, hoping that she’ll understand, that she’ll know you are in his life and would never do something like that to you.

“Please,” Gaby says, her gaze begging.

He hates himself. He always has, more than he’d ever care to admit, but Jungkook hates himself too much for what he says next.

“Just this once.”

It’s like the universe was planning for this to happen anyway. Indeed, there’s laughter behind the door, and Gabrielle immediately grabs his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Jungkook closes his eyes, tells himself that you’ll understand, that he won’t lose you. 

When Gabrielle pulls away, looking just as uncomfortable as him, Jungkook whispers, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

It’s easy, after, to pretend that the tears in his eyes are caused by Gabrielle. Even as Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as if to congratulate him, Jungkook doesn’t have to hide how much he aches from the inside out.

Gabrielle leaves, and Jungkook goes to bed right away, wishing to be able to skip time until he can see you again.

Until he can prove to himself that he hasn’t lost you.

Read chapter eleven here!

☆☆☆☆☆

:((((( i hate myself for hurting the babies so much.. please come scream at me

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 5

Summary: Fracturing your ankle was the last thing you wanted to do this weekend but I guess it's not that bad when you have your handsome husband to be your caretaker. Slice of life drabble from the future 🤭 Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.9k (damn it's been a while since I put one of these out haha) Warning: Some suggestive language if you squint really hard lmao, oc is a pouty baby because she's in pain lol a/n: Barely edited per usual Requested by: 🧜‍♀️ anon 🥰 Start from the beginning

"How are you feeling?" Jungkook asks me once we're both in the car. "Humiliated" I say, hissing when I try to readjust my leg. "People fall all the time when they're hiking darling it's not that big of a deal" he tries reassuring me but it only makes me feel worse.

"But it didn't even happen on a rocky part or anything. We were literally walking on flat ground" I groan, my embarrassment increasing after running through what happened in my head again, remembering how many people were staring at us. 

"Honey it's okay" he chuckles, leaning over to help me with my seatbelt before he puts his on. "I basically tripped on air" I groan, not giving up on how mortified I am, the pain making everything seem so much worse. 

"Hey" he says, cupping my face and making me look at him while he rubs the space between my eyebrows in an effort to smooth out the scowl I'm making, "It's not the end of the world, I promise. It might've been a little embarrassing but it happens to the best of us" he says and my scowl turns into a pout, calming down a little but still upset with myself.

"Did you really have to carry me like that?" I cringe at the thought of how ridiculous we probably looked. "Like what?" he furrows his brows, "Like you were carrying me over the threshold after our wedding" I say, covering my face as if it would help get rid of how shy I felt on top of the humiliation.

He chuckles as his only response leaving me slumping back in my chair, not wanting to snap at him just because of the pain I'm in.

"You sure it's only a sprain?" he asks and I hum, "I've had one before and it felt just like this so I'm sure I'll be fine once we get home and I can ice it" I say and he nods his head.

"Then let's get you home" he agrees and pulls out of the parking lot.

~~~~~

"Are you sure you don't wanna go to the hospital? I can schedule an appointment instead so we don't have to go to the ER if that's what you're worried about" he asks me for the fifth time tonight but I think I've gotta give in since I don't remember my ankle ever swelling up like this.

"Okay" I mumble and he walks up to where I'm sitting on the couch and kisses my forehead. "That's my girl" he praises, handing me the snacks he's prepared for our movie night before plopping down right next to me.

He rests his arm around the back of the couch so I can lean into him while he starts up the movie we chose but as the night goes by the pain gets worse and I have to remind him about making the appointment before we go upstairs to go to bed.

"I don't mind taking you to the ER if it's getting that bad" he says, looking at me with a pained expression, hating that I'm hurting. "I think I'll be alright for the night, can you just help me get upstairs?" I ask and he smirks remembering my earlier complaints.

"Does my bride need me to carry her to bed?" he taunts and I give in, agreeing with him and he gives me a soft smile and a kiss on my temple as a response.

"You ready for bed?" he asks and I nod my head, taking another look at my ankle and growing wary about what could've happened. He turns off the TV and stands up, scooping me into his arms, careful not to move too fast but I still hiss when my foot droops a bit and I notice that the pain killers have worn off.

My hiss turns into a whimper and right after I can feel tears start to well up in my eyes and I can't control it anymore, the pain hitting me in waves as he gets closer to the stairs but turns to walk towards the guest bedroom instead.

"I'm not taking you upstairs if you're crying from walking on flat ground. I really wish you would let me take you in already" he says, placing another kiss on my temple before he lays me down on the bed and quickly grabs some pillows to prop it up adjusting it for me until he sees i'm comfortable.

"No I can w-wait until morning" I say, choking back the tears now that it's supported again. "You sure?" he asks and I nod my head one last time and he decides to respect my wishes.

"Okay well your appointment is at eight AM so you'll have to wait until then to be seen. I'll call them when I wake up to see if they have any cancellations so we can get in earlier" he says and I give him a sad smile while when he wipes off my tear stained cheeks.

"I love you" I mumble and he chuckles, "I love you too baby. You know I'm always gonna take care of you. In sickness and in health remember" he says and I chuckle for a second or two.

"There's that smile I love" he says, cupping my face before leaning down and placing a kiss on my lips. "Can you get me some more pain killers please?" I mumble after he breaks the kiss. He hums in agreement, "Sure baby" he says and places one last kiss on my lips before he goes to get them.

He comes back with a glass of water and another snack making me smile. "I'm gonna go grab your phone charger for you too and this is just in case you get hungry in the middle of the night" he teases. "But aren't you gonna sleep in here too?" I ask, worried that he might leave me alone. 

"I can't honey, I might move around too much and bump into your ankle. I don't want to hurt you" he says and I understand but I hate sleeping alone. "Okay" I say and pull the blanket over my head so he won't see how upset I am about all this. He knows though, he always knows. 

"Bunny please don't cry" he say softly, kneeling down next to the bed once he hears the first sniffle. I had just been crying after being moved in here so the news of him not sleeping here with me was easy for me to get upset about. "I don't wanna sleep alone" I say under the blanket and he sighs, pulling it down so he can talk to me properly. 

"I don't like sleeping alone either Bun but I can stay with you until you fall asleep if you want" he offers and I dry my tears and nod, satisfied with the compromise. I just don't like being alone when I'm hurting like this. I know we could just head to the hospital right now and then we can be together but I know both of us deserve some rest before going since I don't know how long we would be there at this hour. 

He picks up the arm chair from the corner of the room and sets it right next to the bed. "You don't wanna just come a lay down?" I ask and he chuckles. "Oh I definitely want to but it would defeat the whole purpose. Just close your eyes and try to get some sleep okay?" he responds and I nod, doing as he says and soon I find myself drifting off.

~~~ 

When the alarm goes off for us to wake up I groan and reach for my phone to try and turn it off but instead of grabbing my phone I end up grabbing a shoulder, opening my eyes and finding Jungkook laying his head on my lap and an arm draped over my thighs while he's fast asleep. 

I smile and finally reach my phone on the night stand and turn off the alarm. I lay there for a minute, admiring his sleeping face with his lips slightly parted letting out soft snores and I brush his hair out of his face so I can see him better, stirring him awake a little. 

"Did you sleep in here all night?" I ask softly and he hums in contentment from the feeling of me playing with his hair before he responds. "I didn't want to leave you alone" he mumbles and my heart warms at that. "Thank you honey" I say, brushing my thumb along the scar on his cheek and he gives me a sleepy smile. 

"We need to get ready to go" I remind him and he nods and takes a deep breath before sitting up slowly and cracking his back. "You should've gone up to bed Daddy" I tease and he narrows his eyes at me. "You better stop that before you start" he lets out in his deep morning voice and as much as I want to push it we really do have to get going. 

~~~~

"If you took one last bad step you could've completely broken it" the doctor says, bringing the x-rays in so we can take a look and I wince seeing how deep the fracture had gone. "So what happens next?" Jungkook asks, letting me focus on the x-ray a bit more while he talks through the next steps with the doctor. 

"We need to set everything back in place and put a cast on her. It'll take anywhere from six to twelve weeks to heal and from the looks of it it'll probably be closer to twelve. "That's three months!" I say in disbelief, dreading the fact that I'll have to be off my feet for that long. 

"Yes but good news is the baby looks strong and healthy so you have nothing to worry about on that end" he says in regards to the ultrasound we had taken just to double and triple check on them especially after the x-ray. I landed on my ass so I wasn't too worried but it doesn't hurt to check. 

"Thank God" Jungkooks says, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "But no more hiking. You'll be around six months along if I'm not mistaken by the time your cast comes off and you'll have to take some time to restrengthen it afterwards" the doctor says and I nod my head in agreement. 

"Got it" I respond and I can see Jungkook deflate a little since it's one of his favorite things to do together but he understands how important my health and safety is as well as the baby's. 

"We can get you into surgery in the next twenty minutes or so so just hang tight and one of the nurses will come get you when we're ready" he says and we give him our thanks before he slips out, leaving us on our own. 

"You okay?" Jungkook asks and I smile, "Yeah, I'm just glad they're okay" I say, placing my hand over my little baby bump and he places his right on top of mine. "Me too" he agrees and leans down to place a gentle kiss on my lips and we wait patiently in the room until they're ready for me.  

~~~~~

After the surgery is done and dusted and he's managed to get me home he places me down on the couch, having carried me inside again even though I told him I was completely capable of using the crutches. He said, "No wife of mine will ever have to use those when I'm around" or something to that extent just to make me laugh, and it did.

"You take such good care of me" I say, blinking up at him slowly, still feeling a little out of it from the anesthesia since I knew I couldn't go through all of that if I was awake. "Just doing my job Bun" he says, leaning down to give me a kiss before going back outside to get my crutches out of the car, just in case I decide I want them. 

After coming back inside he grabs the footstool and sets it up to I can keep my leg elevated and puts plenty of pillows as well just like last time. "Doc said the pain meds would start waring off soon and that I should have you eat something before you take your next dose. Any requests?" he asks, walking over to the basket of blankets we have in the living room to drape one over me.

Everything he's done has just made me fall more and more in love with him and at this point I didn't even realize that that was even possible. Maybe I just had low standards from before but I don't know, maybe this is what true love looks like. It's not in the big gestures or the lavish gifts. It's the simple things like this that matter the most.  

"Bun?" he calls out to me and I realized I hadn't answered his question yet "Oh, um whatever you want is fine. You took me to my doctor's appointment and the pharmacy and everything so you can choose" I say and he nods, heading into the kitchen to start making us lunch and before I know it he's already grabbed a tray and placed it in front of me so I wouldn't have to go anywhere.

"Thank you honey" I say and he caresses my cheek before walking back to the kitchen to grab his food. When he's on his way back I hear the doorbell ring and look over at him, wordlessly questioning who might've come to stop by but he just smiles at me and opens the door, accepting some sort of food from a delivery driver which has me confused. 

"What's that?" I ask, the plain white bag a mystery to me until the scent of fries hits me and my mouth is watering. He sees my eyes light up when I figure it out and he chuckles, "And I got you your favorite" he says, handing me one of the two drinks he had brought in as well and I already know what it is. 

"Is that a mango milkshake?" I ask excitedly and he smiles while I take the lid off and take a sip, my milkshake mustache making him laugh. "That good huh?" he teases and I hum, "The baby was craving it" I say making excuses and he shakes his head but puts the fries on the plate next to the sandwich he made me. 

I take a fry and dip it in the milkshake and take a bite, and I can see him laughing again. "What?" I ask, not seeing what about this could be so funny. "You always dance around when you're eating your favorite food" he says and I roll my eyes. 

"Would you rather I dip a pickle in it like last time?" I cock a brow at him and he pretends to gag. "No please, not again" he shudders leaving me laughing at him instead. 

"I still can't believe you made me try that" he mumbles and I refute it right away. "You're the one who wanted to try it!". "Well you should've stopped me if you knew I wouldn't like it" he argues back and I giggle at his horrified expression. 

"How was I supposed to know that you wouldn't like it? They're called pregnancy craving for a reason Honey so you should've know better" I tease him and he grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. 

"Just don't eat it today alright? I don't want to have to taste it when I kiss you" he shudders. "Who said I wanted to kiss you?" I say playfully and he looks at me and then looks at my foot that's still propped up and huffs, slumping back into the couch. 

"What?" I laugh, not knowing what that reaction was for. "Just know that if you weren't wearing that cast right now you would've been thrown over my shoulder and dragged upstairs for that smart comment" he pouts and I laugh again, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around me, placing a kiss on his cheek for good mesasure.

"You know you love me" I say and he hums, "I do, and you better love me too or I'm taking back that milkshake" he says reaching for it and I smack his hand before he can get any closer. "I wouldn't be having your child if I wasn't in love with you dummy" I tease and he smiles and places a kiss on my cheek, making an aggressive smooching sound against it. 

"Stop" I whine trying to push him off and his only response is to hug me tighter and pepper me with more kisses. "Alright, alright I give up!" I call out, hoping that'll make him stop and luckily it works. He finishes off by planting one last kiss on my lips and nudging his nose against mine before standing up and walking back over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and the bottle with my pain meds. 

"Eat up so you can take your medicine, I don't want you to be in pain again" he says switching back to my handsome caretaker and I do as I'm told, eating my fill and taking the medication.

"Thank you Honey" I say, hoping to display my sincerity and he gives me a soft smile. "You're welcome baby" he answers, placing a kiss on the top of my head and the rest of our day goes by in a blur, laughing and teasing each other until the sun goes down. 

Like I said, it's the little things that matter to most and I guess it was just one of those days for us. 

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[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Fake Love Chapter 36

Warnings ⚠️ 18+, smut.

Masterlist

2 years later

YN stretched her body. As she slowly opened her eyes, she was still in bed. She saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers at her night table, with a note that said:

'I missed you, please come down to have breakfast together, I love you'

She smiled and stood up from bed to get ready for the day.

After she moved with Yoongi to Japan, despite trying her best, she couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook. She missed him so much it was unbearable. She cried every night. She felt like a zombie. Yoongi tried his best to give her space to heal while he took care of Nabi and Yuto.

YN felt lucky to have Yoongi near. She felt the support and protection she needed.

*flashback*

Yn gasped, and she sat on her bed trying to recover from the nightmare she had just had. She stood up and got out of the room in search of Yoongi. Without even knocking, she walked into his bedroom. She stood next to his bed, watching him sleep. He was there, alive. She was relieved. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand.

"Are you okay?" He mumbled.

"Sorry, it is just that I had a nightmare," she apologized. He sat up and pulled her to sit at the edge of the bed near him.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked.

"I... I'm just...am scared to lose you too..." she whispered.

"You won't, I'm here, I will always be here for you," he took her face between his hands.

"Thanks for everything you do for me and my daughter," she said

"You must know I do it because I love you, I have always loved you," he confessed.

"I know..." she replied

"I know that Jungkook will have a special place in your heart and that you might never love me the same way you did him, but I can wait...for you," he continued.

He brushed his thumb against her lower lip, as he licked his lips hesitating, she noticed this, she looked into his eyes, this was someone she once loved, and that still loves, maybe not the same passionate way she loved Jungkook but she loved Yoongi, and wanted to make him happy, so she brushed her nose against his as if giving permission. They kissed for the first time in years, and he kissed her desperately he waited for this moment for so long.

"YN..." he mumbled against her lips.

"Stay with me tonight," he asked her, placing his forehead against hers.

"Yoongi..." she hesitated. She was not ready for that kind of intimacy.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to, I just want to hold you," he said

At that, she accepted, she was scared that if she went back to her bedroom, she would regret this.

*end of flashback *

She began to go to therapy to try to get back into her life and give Nabi the attention she deserved.

Yoongi supported her through all her processes, it was no secret that he was still in love with her, and that he loved Nabi as if was his own daughter, despite her knowing that her father was Jungkook, she would call Yoongi 'dad' sometimes.

YN felt happy having Yoongi around, and she could see how happy was Nabi having Yoongi and Yuto in her life. It was not hard for her to come to the decision to give Yoongi and her a chance.

"Good morning," she said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Mom!" Yuto ran towards her and embraced her. He was now two years old.

"Hi!" She smiled at the small boy.

"Hi," Yoongi smiled at her fondly. YN walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his body.

"When did you arrive?" She asked

"Last night...I didn't want to wake you," he replied, kissing her head.

"Where's Nabi?" She asked

"Nabi!!" Yuto yelled

The now two year old came running from the living room.

"Mommy, dad's here," she pointed at Yoongi.

"I know I see him," YN chuckled.

Nabi smiled widely. Every day, she looked more and more like Jungkook.

"Let's get out tonight," Yoongi said

"Sure, where are we going?" YN asked

"It's a surprise, just wear something pretty." Yoongi kissed her hand.

"Is it a date?" She raised a brow.

"Of course," he chuckled as he gave her a small peck on her lips.

Jin desperately looked for ways to communicate with Namjoon, but it was impossible. There were no traces of him or Sana or YN. Also he was scared, to travel to Korea to find YN or her family, Jungkook has been in a coma for the last two years, and he was still in therapy since his arm was crushed in the accident, he feared that if he let anyone know he was alive that the people that try to kill them will come look for them and finish the job, plus he didn't know if Jungkook would wake up.

YN finished putting her diamond earrings and looked at herself in the mirror. The black dress hugged her body just right. She felt like a different person. She glanced at the picture sitting in her night table. It was one of her and Jungkook. They didn't have much pictures, except for the ones she secretly took of him that hide somewhere in her laptop, the one of their wedding and the one on her night table, which Sana took at one of YN'S shows, she still had her custome on, her hands wrapped around his neck as he hugged her waist, she grinned at the camera as he look directly at her, the love and admiration reflected in his eyes. She loved that picture.

She looked at the picture and felt like it was another life time, two years have passed since he died, and even though her life have changed, and she is in a relationship with Yoongi, she still loved Jungkook, she dreamed of him at night, she pretend to talk to him as she looked up to the sky. She kept some of his belongings in her closet, and the rest were still at her mother's house in Seoul. She refused to put throw them away after they sold Jungkook's house in Busan.

Yoongi and her drove to their destination.

"Where are we going?" Yn asked.

"Is a surprise," Yoongi chuckled at her desperation.

They arrived at a villa Yoongi owned. The house is a mix of Japanese style and modern comfort.

"It's beautiful!" YN gasped, looking around the place.

"Glad you like it, come let's go to the garden," he said, taking her hand. She leaned towards him, wrapping her arm around his instead.

They walked put to the garden, and they were a lake and a luxurious Yatch waited for them at the deck.

"There's where we are having dinner," he pointed at the yatch.

"Oh my! Is amazing!" She shrieked, excited.

He was enjoying seeing her this excited to be there with him.

They had dinner and enjoyed the quiet, peaceful night. The moon shined bright, reflecting in the water.

"Are you cold?" He asked as she leaned against the rail of the Yatch.

"No, I'm okay," she smiled.

He swallowed nervously as he moved closer to her.

"I know these past years have been rough for us," he began.

"But I think what we have created is beautiful, we had become a family, I love Nabi with all my heart, and I see how you love Yuto, you have become his mother" he continued.

"And you had become Nabi's father, and I thank you for that. You have been there for the both of us," she said.

"I love you so much, YN," he caressed her face.

"I love you too," she said, taking the hand he had in her face to give it a kiss.

Suddenly, he kneeled on one knee in front of her, she widen her eyes, and he took her hand.

"Marry me," he asked nervously. She was not surprised at his proposal she knew this day would come, yet her heart beated so fast.

"Yes," she whispered.

Yoongi smiled, exhaling the breath he was holding. He embraced her and took her face to kiss her lips. He paced a beautiful diamond ring on her left hand.

"You like it?" He asked

"It's beautiful, Yoongi," she grinned.

They went back to the villa, and as soon as they stepped into the house, Yoongi crashed his lips against hers. She returned the kiss.

He pushed her back against the wall as his hands moved from her waist to her hips down to her tight.

He kneeld and pushed her dress up, revealing her underwear, which he pulled down and off quickly. She moaned at the feeling of his tongue against her clit. She grinned against his tongue.

"Yoongi..." she moaned.

He groned in response as he suck her sensitive spot making her cried out his name again.

He stood up and wrap her legs around his waist carrying her towards the bedroom.

Placing her on the bed he straddle her and took her dress off. He stood up and removed his clothes, she watch him trying hard steady her breaths.

He kneeled between her legs, spreading them apart and placing his hard member at her entrance, he pushed inside of her, making her moaned loudly.

He groaned feeling her clench around him.

He moved faster inside her, as he gripped her breasts, she was a mess underneath him, whimpering his name over and over. Until she came around him, he shut his eyes as he continued pounding her harder until he find his release.

"I love you" He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Me too," she smiled.

"Mr. Kim?!" A nurse rushed into the waiting room

"Yes?" Jin jumped from his seat.

"He is awake...he finally woke up," the nurse announced.

Jin followed her towards the room.

"Jungkook..." he smiled his eyes filled with tears as Jungkook look at him.

"Jin..." he mumbled his friend name as he smiled weakly.

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

the crimson shell

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 1.9k — warnings: mild stalking, near drowning, mentions of eating humans — notes: just wanted to contribute something to mermay! this is also my first time attempting to do anything in the realms of yandere (and mermaids!), so pls be nice lol. in this universe everyone is referred to as a mermaid, no matter what gender they are. this will most likely be a two or three part series with jk growing more and more obsessed as he gets y/n into his scaly clutches :)

Part I / II / III / IIII

— summary: you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.

You inhale deeply, enjoying the salty smell that so uniquely belongs to the ocean. The last rays of sun are slowly disappearing behind the horizon, painting the skies and the waves in hues of deep pink and purple. You’re going to miss this view.

You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse sand as you let the gentle breeze caress your face. You’ve been looking forward to this for years, but now that your departure is so imminent, it feels more scary than liberating. The time has come to finally leave your home behind, and you feel a pang of regret as you realize you might not see your friends or family for a very long time to come.

Years of saving up your measly paychecks have finally paid off, and you’re setting sail for an island you’ve been hearing constant murmurs about for the last few months. Originally, you were only going to travel to the next kingdom over, hoping to find more suitable work there to help your parents stay afloat. But the talk of the mystery island abundant with riches piped your interest more than you would like to admit – and you’ve never been one to shy away from adventure.

However, you weren’t stupid enough to just blindly trust the rumours milling around your little town. In fact, you wholeheartedly believed it to be a scam until a familiar face suddenly turned up in the town square only a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t seen Jimin ever since he set sail for the unknown six months ago; and so everyone, including yourself, had presumed that your talkative neighbour had met an ill fate, and was floating at the bottom of the sea. You realized you couldn’t have been more wrong when Jimin returned with riches you never expected you would ever lay eyes on, his whole body adorned with various diamonds and gold chains.

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[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

mio angelo.

it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

word count: 33.3k (🤠; use the browser when reading to avoid the app from crashing !)

rating: 18+

content: fluff | smut | angst | mafia au | established relationship au | inspired by ‘the godfather’ (so a lot of scenes may have similarities from the novel / movie) + ‘vincenzo’ | ft. lawyer!reader, soon-to-be mafia boss!jeongguk (kinda a spoiler, but kinda not) | this fic is prose heavy !!

warning/s: swearing | mature themes | mentions of smoking, drugs, prostitution, violence, crimes, and murder | explicit sexual content | dirty talk | nipple sucking | creampie | fingering | multiple orgasms | oral (f. + m. receiving) | one mention of breeding kink lmao | praising | begging | choking | riding | cum eating | taking it from behind (lmao idk what it’s called) | overstimulation | unprotected sex (this is fiction okay - be safe irl !)

» related drabble/s: bonus scene #1; bonus scene #2

━ INTRO.

Your father has always been in debt with the Jeon Family; most specifically to their head, Don Jungsoo.

When you grew up and finally had the right amount of curiosity to ask why, Inhwan only smiled and said that the Don helped him in developing the winery—the winery that today stands as one of the most sought out wine companies in the country, slowly expanding to neighboring nations and even across other continents. He said that because of the Don’s generosity with assisting him in starting the business, taking care of matters that involved papers and endorsements and the easy transportation of goods to various well-known distributors, he was able to build a better future for your mother in about five years’ time, right before they were married and naturally, right before you were even born.

He was able to buy a massive house. He was able to raise you in a very comfortable environment, making sure that you grew up to be greatly taken care of; that you never once felt abandoned or alone, that you wouldn’t have to think twice in asking for something in whatever it is that you wanted and needed. Eventually, he was able to send you off to prestigious schools throughout your studies, even enrolled you to some classes that could develop a fundamental hobby such as drawing and playing the violin, taking any kind of measure without hesitation as long as it will assure him that he has truly done everything he can to lead you to a great future.

When you asked why Don Jungsoo offered so much to him despite the both of them not being blood related, he responded by saying “Your grandpa and him go way back. He always says that if it weren’t for your grandpa, he wouldn’t have found the success he has today.”

Hearing him say that, you were eager to meet Don Jungsoo, mostly because you never had the chance to meet your grandfather who passed away just months before you were brought to the world. At the age of twelve years old, while getting home from school that day, you were granted that opportunity as you arrived at the villa and saw an elderly man conversing with your dad in the common room, the both of them in the middle of a warm handshake, kind of like a goodbye.

That’s when you officially first met him, the Godfather, as Inhwan introduced you, promptly apologizing to Don Jungsoo for only doing so at that instance. Don Jungsoo harbored no hard feelings of course, knowing that it was nothing personal and was merely just a loss of opportunity because of the winery that Inhwan had to constantly oversee and the errands he had to do for the Family. Besides, Don Jungsoo already had the chance to meet you at your baptism and at a birthday of one of his grandsons that Inhwan and his wife were invited to, but you were very young back then to even remember it yourself.

As your eyes met that day, Don Jungsoo regarded you with delight almost immediately, fondly commenting that he thought you definitely inherited certain facial features from the father side of the family and that you have grown from a cute baby to a wonderful little girl. You smiled as he did, mumbling a shy thank you before instinctively hiding behind Inhwan’s waist, a gesture that Don Jungsoo chuckled at. It didn’t take long before you politely said goodbye when he once again concluded his meeting with your father because of the short interruption, the two men he brought along with him expressing their farewells to Inhwan too with a squeeze on Inhwan’s shoulder and also a pat on the back.

Even if that day was so long ago and was only a fragment of your childhood memories, you can always still remember that moment as if it just happened not that long ago. That day was indeed remarkable for you, since there stood the man that your dad has been talking about with so much honor and respect; the man that apparently raised your family from the ashes, the man who gave your father the chance to redeem himself, that it shouldn’t be questioned why Inhwan would treat Don Jungsoo in such a way.

You didn’t need a grown-up’s mind to realize that Don Jungsoo was an influential man. He showed it in his speech, his luxurious suit, and the people he seemed to have posing as his guard. He gave off an air of utmost authority, like there was no mistaking that he was a force you didn’t want to be reckoned with, a figure that people didn’t just respect, but also feared—and for most of your life, you only thought that it was because he was filthy and crazy rich. After all, rich people had all the means in the universe that could grant them the power to rule the entire world.

In Don Jungsoo’s case, his clan, the Jeon Family or more publicly known as JSG Group, was known to be the owner of a power company that chose renewable energy as its priority, the said establishment considered as the best across the state and among its competitors. Aside from the financial gain they already acquired with their principal enterprise, they have bought other businesses that stem from different fields—food and restaurant, motor vehicles, and even health care institutions.

They also had a lot of significant contacts, all who were as filthy and crazy rich as they were—were even secured when it came to legal matters because of the people they knew that were distinguished law practitioners; moreover, they had many friends that were involved notably in politics. It was those reasons why Don Jungsoo was named as one of the most powerful men and richest men in Seoul and has contributed so much with the immense accomplishment of your father’s winery as well. From your knowledge, JSG Group was a major shareholder of the wine company and has appointed Inhwan as the CEO to supervise its growing business.

Amidst all of that though, you shouldn’t have been naive enough to think that the winery’s said triumph was only made possible because of the Don’s well-known colossal wealth. You shouldn’t have been too dependent on the explanation that it was because Don Jungsoo was just inherently successful for everything to just go the way he wanted—for everything to fall into place in just a snap of his fingers.

It was only when you got particularly closer to one of his grandsons, Jeon Jeongguk, that you got a glimpse of what the Family precisely ran that made them so acclaimed and worshiped. It was only then did you understand and get to know what goes on behind the scenes that brought the Jeon Family such eminence, and whether your knowledge of it was for the better or for the worst, you didn’t really know.

━ CHAPTER I.

You and Jeongguk have been well acquainted since your youth. You knew him as the Don’s grandchild, the youngest in the eight that he had, and is said to be even affectionately referred to as Don Jungso’s ‘golden boy’ for he truly could do no wrong in his grandfather’s eyes.

To the Don, Jeongguk was shaped and made to be part of the business from the second he was born. Don Jungsoo said this with utmost confidence and pride in every chance he got for Jeongguk held all the qualities that he was expecting to come from an adequate head of their organization in the future. Jeongguk grew up to be a man who honored the Family’s good morals; a man who knew of loyalty, who valued true brotherhood; a man who knew when to use his brain or wield his fist; a man who you could sit down and reason with with the aim of diplomacy; a man who was adept in getting in the good sides of people, even the enemies, with his sweet tongue.

In Don Jungsoo’s three sons, there were always two or three qualities that were missing in his personal criteria for him to applaud them like he applauded his golden boy. His eldest son, Jeongguk’s father, thought too much, hesitated a lot in his choices, always wanted the majority to decide on something before he decided himself; the middle child, has never been interested in taking part of the business and most of the time remained distant with the Family in general, often treating it as nonexistent when got together with the rest of them on holidays and such; and as for the youngest, he was seen as too much of a coward to be relied on in any important mission by the Don, but he was at least dedicated in helping out in the best way he could to not be appreciated still..

As for the Don’s grandchildren, he had six girls and two boys. Since it was never an option by the Don to begin with to inflict the problems of the Family business to any of its women, his six granddaughters were ruled out automatically in his head and he only spoiled them of gifts and of love as his means to let them have a taste of what the business provided. In regards to his grandson aside from Jeongguk, who came from the middle child, the boy was much like his father who didn’t want anything to do with their source of outcome for him to be taken into mind. The Don respected the decision of his middle child and didn’t force him or his son to embrace their living, though he at least expected that they remain close to the family when it came to personal matters.

Jeongguk entered the business at the early age of 15 years old. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, for it was too young and too soon, but it was a time where there was prominent tension between the Four Families of Seoul that Jeongguk’s father convinced himself that would feel more at peace with if he knew that his son at least knew how to use a gun. Of course, the Don wasn’t consented first before Jeongguk was taught to defend himself and Don Jungsoo disapproved of Hanseo’s decision, as he always did, however, there was nothing even he could do to reverse what has already been and instead of acting like things were the way they were, in a poor attempt to save whatever innocence that is still left on the boy’s mind, he permitted Jeongguk to be introduced to their ways and to the Mafia.

Just a year after Jeongguk was brought in, he “made his bones” by being a member of Inhwan’s regime and partaking in an operation that had something to do with confronting a businessman to cave in to what the Don offered. The man was supposed to pick sides, to choose between serving the Jeon Family like he has been for half of his life or the Lee Family who came into the picture and threatened to do expeditions for them, and when the businessman declared that he was now loyal to the latter and detested his association to the Jeon clan, Inhwan permitted Jeongguk to do the honors of assassinating the traitor a few days later, thus, officially acknowledging him as a made man.

For the years that followed, Jeongguk became Inhwan’s right-hand man. It was the Don’s intention to place Jeongguk under Inhwan’s faction rather than Hanseo, for he thought that having Hanseo show his own son the ropes of the business was a little unhealthy given the man’s known wariness for the safety of his only child. So, Jeongguk became closer with Inhwan instead when it came to anything related to the business; the Caporegime he was serving trained him to be better and to be sharper in what he did.

“Jeongguk, you’ve met my daughter before, right? ____?” Inhwan said as he welcomed the grandson of the Don to his home, walking with him to his office supposedly but before they could get to the room, they had to pass through the kitchen where you were preparing yourself a meal.

Jeongguk, now 23 at that time, glanced at you and was able to instantly discern your familiar face. You’ve been a guest at some parties that his family has held in the past, he has heard your name escape past people’s lips multiple times before in casual conversations, but this was perhaps the first time that the both of you were exchanging introductions. He only knew you as Inhwan’s daughter who the Caporegime always mentioned in great esteem for being the top student of your university’s honor list; the only daughter who Inhwan cherished after his wife passed on ten years ago and who typically lived in the campus dormitory since she attended college, hence why he never had the chance to see you so close before (aside from the fact that he has studied overseas for the last four years, of course).

You made eye contact and the second you two did, Jeongguk approached you in courtesy, extending out a hand. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”

You looked at your father then back at Jeongguk, wiping your hand on the towel by the counter and finally shaking his hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”

When Inhwan and Jeongguk arrived at the office, it was obvious that you were still in the young boy’s mind. He never said anything about you again throughout the affairs he had to discuss with Inhwan though, as he thought of it as disrespectful to be straightforward with his attraction towards you to your father, but it was from that day forward that he began visiting your household frequently, even the dormitory you stayed at during weekdays, just to get to know you better, and let you get to know him more too. He was definitely interested in being more than friends, but he wanted things to run naturally and not come out as forced for him to be truly blunt about his feelings.

“I’ve been hearing that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Inhwan’s daughter these past weeks,” Hanseo, Jeongguk’s father, opened up for dinner one night. “You like the girl?”

“Would he spend the majority of his time with her if he didn’t?” His mother, Yeonjin, retorted.

Hanseo remained serious as he spoke again. “If your intentions aren’t good with her, you should drop it, Guk. She’s the daughter of one of our close family friends. It’s not good to go behind Inhwan’s back and steal his child away. If what you’re only looking for is one good night, don’t try finding it with ____.”

Jeongguk laid down his spoon gently. He was slightly offended to be viewed in that kind of light by his Pop, but he was a young man after all, and young men certainly didn’t go for serious relationships these days. “Should I ask Inhwan first before I pursue anything serious with ____ then?”

His parents shared a look; Hanseo snorted even in amazement while Yeonjin remained smiling.

“Are your intentions good with ____?” Hanseo repeated.

“I like her,” Jeongguk said. “She’s interesting, and she’s kind, and she’s beautiful, and most importantly, she gets me. We can talk for hours and I wouldn’t know because time doesn’t move as fast when I’m with her.”

Hanseo continued staring at him, analyzing him, trying to guess if he was being honest with what he just said. After what seemed like a minute of scrutinizing Jeongguk, he shrugged as if it was suddenly not a big deal. “I’ll talk to Inhwan, get him to agree in setting you up with his daughter,” Hanseo assured him.

“I can do that myself. I’ll talk to Inhwan.”

“You want to talk to Inhwan yourself?”

“Yes. I want to assure him that I’m serious with what I want with ____.”

“In that degree, we might as well just arrange the both of you two wed.”

“No, no,” Jeongguk shook his head immediately, “I don’t want it to be forced. I don’t want to rush things. I just want to know that it’s okay and my personal interests won’t affect the Family.”

The following day, Hanseo still talked to Inhwan about Jeongguk’s attraction to you as a heads up. Inhwan just chuckled, admittedly fond with Jeongguk to think of it as a bad idea, nodded, and said that as long as Jeongguk won’t do anything that would harm you or disrespect you on purpose, then he was going to be on board with whatever relationship Jeongguk was going to have with indeed his only daughter; his permission was the least of what he could give considering that Jeongguk was the Godfather’s grandson. Besides, he really wasn’t a stranger to Jeongguk at this point; he practically raised him along with the others with Inhwan’s significant role in the Family business to perceive him as not a good fit for you.

On the Friday of that very week, Jeongguk went to the campus grounds of your university. He waited outside the building where he knew you would be taking your last class, leaning against the hood of his lavish Maranello with his arms crossed and his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Passersby ogled at him; murmured about his vehicle, some even took sneaky snapshots to send to their friends about how there was such a car in the premises. Even Jeongguk himself was well talked about by the students, with his right arm covered with elegant yet intimidating tattoos, the striking manner in which he stood and leaned there, and the fact that he was wearing this orangish yellow short-sleeved Fendi button down and was pulling it off despite how its color and style contradicted to the dangerous aura he was giving.

When you got out of the building, still conversing with a classmate, it took you a few more seconds to notice him; if it weren’t for a distant voice of another classmate saying how there was a ‘literal world treasure’ before his eyes, you wouldn’t have curiously looked forward and saw Jeongguk there, already staring at you, head tilted to the side while he indulged himself in the beauty of your appearance. As you regarded his presence with a smile, he lifted his sunglasses, pushing it past his forehead and over his hair, and flashed a smirk at you.

“Who’s that hot piece of ass?” Your friend, with her jaw slightly hanging down, blatantly asked. “Do you know him?”

“He’s a family friend.”

“A family friend?”

“A good family friend.” You grinned all knowingly. “I’ll see you next week.”

You skipped down the stairs without giving your friend a chance to interrogate you further and stopped right in front of Jeongguk who met you halfway. He had a handsome grin on his face and upon your arrival, automatically reached out to get your bag for you, a gesture that you stopped from happening by swaying your tote bag and books to the other side of where he was reaching for.

“Are you just going to act like you coming here is a thing we planned?” you asked with a chuckle.

The grin hasn’t left his mouth, only transforming into a playful one. “Sorry. I’ve always been under the impression that on one of these days, you want me to whisk you away before you get home and take you somewhere far.”

“Ah, of course, you have read my mind and obtained one of my deepest desires. Though I’m assuming this far place we’re pertaining to is the beach? What’s with this polo?” You couldn’t help but tease, even touching the hem to straighten it for a second.

Jeongguk remained looking at you, shamelessly ignoring your teasing. “Pop already talked with your Dad. And I already talked with him too.”

“Talked about what?” You were still examining the print of his top.

“About us.”

That had you flickering your gaze up to meet his, your delight not being concealed as the ends of your lips twitched. “What about us?”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t pretend that you don’t know what this thing is between us.”

“I’m not following, Guk.” The mischief in your gaze said otherwise and he chuckled, shaking his head, successfully getting your belongings this time when he reached for it. “What is this thing between us? All I know is that we’re great family friends and that—”

“Go out with me,” he cut you off, not letting you go longer with your act, “go out with me and let me show you a good time. More than great family friends tonight. What do you say?”

“Tonight?” You at least looked pleased and willing. “I might have to ask my father first.”

“I told you, I already asked him.”

“Even with what you want to do tonight?”

“All I want to do tonight is to take you out on a date. Just putting it out there just so we’re clear.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, crystal clear.”

“All I need is your yes, ____,” he added. “Won’t you give me that yes?”

He knew he was going to get what he wanted either way in how you smiled, how your cheeks blushed, and how you were abruptly getting fidgety, a thing you did that he noticed would only showcase itself whenever you were giddy or nervous. Nonetheless, the rush of serotonin didn’t stop you from teasing him again when you gave your answer. “I would, but I’m not exactly dressed in an attire that matches yours. I mean, I don’t even know if I have something that’s as flashy as that in my closet.”

“You’re really amused with what I’m wearing, aren’t you?”

“I just have never seen you in anything other than black or any other dark color.” You snorted. “But I like it. You look good. Very suave, still.”

“You really think that?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. You look very handsome.”

Jeongguk had noticed too that you were not one to shy away from speaking your thoughts out. It was another trait he liked about you. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, come on—” he laughed when you did— “get in the car and I’ll drive you home first so that you can change.”

You nodded, eagerly heading to the passenger’s side, Jeongguk doing the same. “Where will you take me after that?”

“To the beach. Like you said.”

You laughed louder at that. “Sounds amazing.”

He opened the door for you and pushed it closed once you were settled inside.

Jeongguk did take you to the beach that afternoon. It was counted as your first date. You laid in the sand with him, the both of you talking about your day and other things that came to mind. You ate some cheap good food at the near convenience store, an occurrence that Jeongguk almost stopped from happening since he wanted to take you somewhere nicer for dinner, but you refused and insisted that you didn’t want anything heavy or expensive for that matter; you just wanted to be with him and act like teenage couples that couldn’t get rid of the too-happy smiles on their faces while they spent the day with their lover. Of course, you didn’t tell him the last part verbally, didn’t tell him directly yet that you wanted him to see you as a lover, but Jeongguk got the message and exactly went along with what you secretly hoped for.

By the time the sun was nowhere to be seen and the night had fallen, he told you that you two should probably get going home. The ride back was approximately 30 minutes long and he didn’t want to abuse the trust that Inhwan granted him by keeping you up too late and until the last minute for the first date. Thankfully, you agreed without a fuss, and for the whole time he drove you back to the villa, your hand was intertwined with his, laid on your thigh that was closer to the gearstick so he wouldn’t have trouble switching gears and holding your hand at the same time. He had to pretend that he wasn’t too happy with the show of affection you were sharing with him, but there was no mistaking from his expression throughout the drive that he was thrilled.

“Thank you for today, Guk,” you said as he stopped in front of your home, pushing the button that unlatched the seatbelt. “I had fun.”

“Thank God.” He laughed and so did you. You gazed at each other for a while before he squeezed your hand and let go, about to unfasten his seatbelt. “Let me walk you to the front door.”

“That won’t be needed.” You held his bicep to stop him, a successful tactic. “Dad’s probably home already and I know you say that he’s okay with us doing this but I still prefer if he wouldn’t see what I’m going to do.”

He knitted his eyebrows together, close to asking what you meant but you had already launched yourself towards him and kissed his mouth, catching him completely off guard. “Good night,” you said then, grinning, though your attempt to get out of the vehicle urgently after you said that failed to do a dramatic exit as Jeongguk gently pulled you back with a gentle hold on your wrist to kiss you again, this time in a fuller and proper way.

His calloused palm landed on your cheek, another on your neck, and when he leaned away in what seemed like hours of your lips on the other, your tongues clashing at one or multiple points in fervor—it was only so he could do the boyish gesture of smirking at you, kissing you again instantly afterwards, a soft groan rumbling in his throat while he kept you a bit longer in his car than he planned. That night marked the beginning of your budding relationship with him.

It also marked the moment when he realized that it was your nerve and determination that Jeongguk truly loved the best when it came to you. However, it wasn’t going to be for another few years that he would soon discover that just like everything in the world, your nerve and determination had limitations of its own, that there were going to be occasions wherein you would back out and play it safe—and he was willing to fill that portion of cowardice you possessed with the courage he was born with and worked hard for in his bones.

━ CHAPTER II.

Growing up, Inhwan never pressured you with the possibility that you’d have to take over the winery once you were old enough. Instead, he insisted that you follow your own dreams and he will be here, always right behind you, supporting you in any way that he could to make sure that dream of yours would come true.

Truth be told, it was never his intention to build the wine company in hopes that it could be a permanent business for his children and grandchildren—at least not at first when Don Jungsoo proposed the idea to him. The Don only told Inhwan that he should think of another venture that the Jeon Family can go into, a venture that would serve as another front for the real Family business, and in return for his efforts to build this future company and act as its CEO for the following years to come, he would be granted most of its earnings, since being so would not cause an issue with the Family due to his record of loyalty, which Inhwan felt very grateful for.

At Inhwan’s motivation, you decided to go towards the path of being an accomplished lawyer. Of course, that would take more years of studying and more years of general sleepless nights and frustration until you probably would have to wish death to fall upon you later on. But you were determined to prove yourself out there and do something that your heart genuinely longed for, not caring how long it would take and how much you would have to endure just to be at the top of your game. Inhwan, like promised, was more than willing to provide you with everything necessary for a bright road heading to your dream.

Inhwan knew you were an intelligent woman. The fact slapped him in the face every time you talked and made comments about the news or the wine company, speaking your mind out even at times no one frankly asked for your thoughts. You weren’t only smart because you knew how to memorize the texts on your school books—you were a true intellectual. He knew that and knew that he didn’t need to ask the Godfather to call important contacts to be guaranteed that you will get into the finest law school in Seoul once you were a few months away from finishing your undergraduate studies—but he still did, just to double-check, just to feel at ease that he won’t have to answer to his daughter’s disappointment when you discover that you didn’t get in.

You still got in though, thank goodness, without any of the Family’s special friends pulling some strings for him, earning it fair and square. The next thing you know, you have already spent four years in law school and have graduated, eventually passing the bar exam, your name printed as one of the top scorers. Once again, Inhwan was grateful that he didn’t have to contact anyone, knowing that if you discovered what he did, you would take it as more of an insult than a favor since more than anyone, it was supposed to be Inhwan who trusted your ability to pass on your own.

In celebration for yet another impressive feat of yours, he hosted a big get-together in the villa, inviting the Family and other people to share the momentous occasion with the both of you. Inhwan, though positive that the Don has not changed his mind in including women openly in the business, knew that the Godfather would find your obvious achievement beneficial to the Family, so he made sure to give highlight to your passing (even if it was just the start) as much as he could. You’ve been dating the Don’s grandson for four years now after all; it was only natural for Inhwan to always want to bring you into a better light and deem you as indeed worthy.

“Guk,” you breathlessly chuckled, your boyfriend’s tongue swiping against your skin, “they’re going to notice we’ve gone missing.”

Jeongguk pulled away from your neck, the skin of your throat littered with red marks that you’d have to cover up by changing into a turtle neck after the both of you were done. “So what? They’ll just understand that I’m just giving my smart girl her present.”

“And what is your present?” You couldn’t help but release a small moan when he lapped his tongue once more on your flesh and pressed himself against you deliciously harder on the mattress. “Your dick?”

“What? You don’t want it?” He snickered.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I have a greater gift other than my manhood, angel.” He leaned back fully, a handsome grin on his features, his arms supporting half of his weight as he hovered you. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Your manhood? Well, we both know it’s not something I haven’t seen before—”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, snatching a long kiss on your mouth for your silliness, “my gift. What I bought for you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You really brought something for me?”

“Of course.” Another kiss, now on your forehead, and he stood up.

He went to your dresser, took the small paper bag that you didn’t even notice the first time around for you were too preoccupied with Jeongguk’s lips to mind anything else, and sat down on the spot he was in just seconds ago to officially present it to you. You watched in anticipation as he brought a black box out, your eyes widening impulsively at what it possibly meant and what it had inside though before you could speak, Jeongguk beat you to it. “I’m not proposing. In case you were thinking about that,” he said, placing the paper bag he didn’t need anymore on the floor.

You released a huff of relief. “I would have said no anyways.”

He flashed his eyes on you, hurt. “Really?”

“You’re not proposing, right?”

“Yeah, but it’d be nice to know that if I was, you would have said yes regardless.”

“I would have, but just not at this moment. Wouldn’t want being engaged to you steal the limelight of my accomplishment.”

He snorted. “Can’t say you’re wrong. It’d be a nationwide phenomenon.”

“Sometimes, you can go too far over the top of your head, sweetheart.” You gently held his chin to drag his face closer so you could plant a kiss on his mouth.

Jeongguk smirked and opened the velvet box. There inside lay a thin gold chain necklace with five diamonds, the five of them glittering and placed tightly next to each other in the middle. You unconsciously held your breath at its gorgeousness, your interest in jewelry not being hidden at that instant, for you can’t deny that as you got older, your love for shiny things increased too, but then you thought about how this must have cost a fortune—not that it would be any problem to Jeongguk if it had—that a frown came to your face the next instant.

“Jeongguk…”

“I didn’t spend that much on it,” he defended immediately, aware that you would open the topic of how much was this. “This didn’t put me close to bankruptcy or something.”

“Huh, that’s not at all a very guilty thing to say, Guk.”

He chuckled at the sarcasm. “Well, okay—you can’t expect me not to go all out sometimes. You deserve gifts like this.”

“Do I really?”

“Of course, you do, angel.” He took the necklace from its box. “Turn around for me. Let me put it on you and let’s see what it looks like.”

You obliged, scooting towards him and spinning around to let your back face him. You swept your hair to the other side and lifted it up, Jeongguk swinging his arms over you and laying the necklace flat against your skin, the five diamonds just by your collar. The cold sensation of the chain made goosebumps rise on your nape; Jeongguk locked it in place and lightly pulled the diamonds lower to fix it on your neck.

He kissed your shoulder sweetly when he was done. “Okay, let’s see it.”

You both stood up, trudging to the full length mirror you had in your room. As you stood before it, you could clearly see the diamonds gleaming with enthusiasm; you’re already sure that no one would miss it when you go outside and greet some guests again. You know they would automatically think that it was Jeongguk who gave you such an exquisite present, considering that even though your father would not hesitate to give you expensive jewelry like this one, Inhwan didn’t exactly have the same good taste as your boyfriend to have the necklace mistaken as his gift.

“Looks like it was made for you,” Jeongguk commented with a proud smile, kissing the same spot on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

He chuckled, encircling his arms around your waist, still placing sweet kisses on your skin.

“How much is this?” You still couldn’t help but ask.

He shook his head. “No, no, this is a gift, I won’t tell you how much it costs.”

“Just give me an estimate, Guk.”

“It’s as grand as my love for you.”

You scoffed. “I’ll be offended if I discover that this isn’t as expensive in my head.”

He laughed. “I assure you it’s worth a lot. When have I ever given you anything that didn’t match your significance to me?”

“That’s your flaw, really. You spend too much.”

“I don’t mind.” He nuzzled his face on your neck. “Not if it’s for you.”

You turned around and embraced his torso, smiling, touched and swooned by his words as he always had the ability to do. You pushed yourself upwards with your toes, properly kissing him on the lips and Jeongguk reciprocated the gesture with a content smile, his hand on your hip tightening.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate it, you know I do. But next time, how about you give me something that isn’t too glorious, alright?”

“No promises.”

You narrowed your eyes on him, a complaint bubbling inside you though just as you were about to say it out loud, Jeongguk was quick enough to prevent your actions by capturing your mouth again with his, humming in a teasing manner as he slowly led you back to the bed.

Three knocks on your door interrupted the moment, the two of you freezing at the sound. “Guk? Are you in there?” A familiar voice was heard from the other side of the door.

“No, he isn’t,” you promptly lied.

“____, I can sense that you’re holding him captive even from miles away.” He chuckled.

You sighed and untangled yourself from Jeongguk, opening the door.

There outside at the hall stood Seokjin, the adoptive brother of Jeongguk who was also a good friend of yours and an already valued lawyer himself. He was five years older than him and six years older than you, and being someone who always treated you like a little sister of his own, especially when you started to date Jeongguk, he was always kind to remind you since your law school days that if ever you needed anyone’s guidance about your shared field, he was there and was only one call away. You told him you were certainly going to take him up for that someday when you indeed needed his help, very comfortable with him to possibly open the topic in the future.

Seokjin glanced at Jeongguk. “Your grandpop wants to talk to you.”

“What is it about?” Jeongguk was smoothing his hair.

“Business, as usual.” Seokjin looked at you next. “Sorry for stealing him away—and in the middle of your party too. But it’s important.”

“No worries, I understand. Besides, Dad might not be too thrilled if he caught us in here before you have. We were just going to join the others again anyway.”

“Ah, yes, remember to keep yourself pure before marriage, ____. Saving yourself for your wedding night is definitely still the trend with the old folks.” Seokjin grinned.

“A possible yet at the same time impossible task,” you further joked.

“I’ll see you again later, okay?” Jeongguk appeared beside you to head to the door, pecking your cheek and glancing at his brother. “Jin, look at what I’ve bought, isn’t it beautiful?” He pointed at the necklace you wore.

Seokjin turned his eyes on it like asked and pursed his lips in approval, staring at it with an amused expression, nodding. “Gorgeous. You wear it well, ____. Of course, that is if we’re talking about the diamond necklace and not the forming hickeys.”

Your face burned; you tried to look nonchalant to preserve what’s left of your dignity, moving your hair then to the front to conceal the love bites. “Well, both were given by this clever guy right here.” You glared at Jeongguk who was staring at your neck now with an even prouder gaze. You hit him on the stomach because of it.

“That doesn’t come as a surprise.” Seokjin snorted and patted Jeongguk’s back as the young man stepped out. “We’ll catch up with you again after we’re done. I won’t keep him for too long.”

“No, it’s really alright. Settle what needs to be settled. In fact, don’t bother to return him if it’s that important.”

Seokjin laughed, pushing Jeongguk away before the latter could snap something back. “Noted. Congratulations again, princess. I look forward to seeing you in court one day.”

“Thanks, Jin. Hopefully not against each other though.” You smirked.

He chuckled and strided forward with an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading him to the direction where your father’s office was located.

You’ve been informed that the Jeon Family has been talking about matters concerning the winery. The Don, being the Chairman of the board, was discussing affairs with Inhwan that you weren’t really aware of for your father never liked sharing them with you.

It was odd in your opinion, to still be kept under the light about anything that involved the wine company, for you’ve had the impression that once you grew up and has made it apparent that you could be a good help to the business despite your choice of profession not entirely centered around it, he would be more open to letting you in the scoop. Instead, you still had to mostly hear news about what he planned for it through hints from Jeongguk or other employees. Whenever you’d ask Inhwan yourself if there was anything you could do for the business, he would only squeeze your shoulders as he hugged you from the side, assuring you that you didn’t have to worry about anything, and that he could manage on his own and with the help of the Don just fine.

You let it slide but you were always salty about his secrecy deep down as you even reckon that Seokjin was more involved with it than you were. You’ve eavesdropped once in a conversation shared by your father and his friends at the patio of your villa that Seokjin was practicing his law degree exclusively for the Don (you’ve taken it as he was a part of the lawyers representing JSG Group), meaning he probably took care of anything related to the legalities of the winery too.

In a part of your mind, you didn’t get why Seokjin wouldn’t want to kick start his career first by gaining experience and taking a lot of various cases first rather than working for one big client after graduation. You knew the Don probably could offer him a sum that no client could ever give him, but in regards to the practice of law itself, you weren’t so sure. It seemed to be working out for Seokjin regardless though; he has always been sharp-witted and sensible anyways to not make the right decision.

Eventually, you’d have the opportunity of knowing exactly how sharp-witted and sensible Seokjin can be; you’d be far astonished to the point of actually beginning to deem him as a better lawyer than you were yourself, because unlike you, Seokjin had a certain quality within him that made him the perfect legal adviser.

━ CHAPTER III.

Jeongguk, since the day he became a made man, was always reminded that everything that revolved around the Mafia was strictly business. The transactions, the meetings, the negotiations, and even the violence that may come along with it if diplomacy was not the effective way to go was part of the whole ordeal. He had to instill in his head from the very start that nothing from their world should be taken personally—even if a member gets hurt because of another Family or a mafioso becomes a traitor to their organization. Everything was still going to be considered as business or done for the sake of business; nothing should ever be taken personally or with the aim to hurt the mafioso’s personal life.

That was one of the reasons why the Cosa Nostra was still seen as an honorable society despite the dangers and the various dirty businesses it carried out. Even though their people were comprised of crooks, thieves, murderers, and other nouns to describe generally bad people, they still had a set of morals of their own that they religiously kept within themselves and followed. However, there were flaws and loopholes to those ethics they observed, and the thin line that separated business matters and personal matters was something they overstepped at times in being too inflamed with their innate greediness.

“Are you sure it just happened? No one attacked my father?” Hanseo frustratingly asked through the phone. “How about that guy? Jang Yeocheol? He was obviously more than displeased when the Don refused to fund his plan for that wack of a narcotic casino. He didn’t do anything about it?”

Jeongguk waited patiently in the single leather chair inside the office. One thing he was sure of is not to rush and ask questions when Hanseo was asking them to someone else and was obviously agitated over the line. The person he was talking to was the Don’s bodyguard, the person who was in charge of driving him in and out of the office and to any other errands he wanted to go; his name was Yoongi and from Jeongguk’s knowledge, he was also one of Inhwan’s most trusted men, a guy he considered as his right-hand man since Jeongguk formed his own regime.

“Okay. I’m sending men there for backup. No doubt the news is already out about the Don’s condition.” Hanseo ended the call and glanced at Jeongguk.

“What happened to Grandpop?” he put forward.

“Stroke. Just fell in his office chair and his secretary found him there. Don’t worry, he’s okay, he was spotted early on and the doctor in charge of him is Dr. Hwang. I’m sure he’ll be doing anything to make sure the old man’s okay. You know him, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk nodded. “He owes Grandpop a lot of favors. Should I do something? Should I go to the hospital too?”

“No, no, I don’t want you going there until I’m sure there really isn’t foul play involved. I know it’s not unlikely for Pop to suffer from something like that, the man’s not getting younger after all, but it’s still better to be sure. I’m going to have them review the CCTVs at the office; I’ll ask a guy I know to look through the phone calls of anyone close to the Don recently. Especially Yoongi—just for a safety measure, I don’t think that kid has it in him to betray us if that was the case.” Hanseo dialled another number on his phone.

Jeongguk took out his phone as well, the other one he used for the business. “Don’t you want me to call anyone too? The other Three Families might be jumping on this opportunity to put us in the bad light; for sure they’ll have the people think that his condition is worse than it already is.”

“I already have Seokjin working on that. He’ll be talking to the director at HSN News to make sure nothing leaks or at least nothing makes a big deal out of it. Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to your uncles? Ask them where they are and how they’re doing.”

“Really? That’s all you want me to do?”

“Yes, Guk, just go ahead and do it for me.” Hanseo made a hand movement that meant ‘go do it’ as he said his greetings to the person who just answered his call.

Jeongguk started calling his two other uncles at his father’s request; the second eldest, though having never shown his obvious affection for their Family, was panicked when he got Jeongguk’s call, quickly asking if the Don was alright. Jeongguk assured him that everything was okay and that they were handling it here in the headquarters, a.k.a. the home of Don Jungsoo itself, efficiently. His uncle murmured his praises of thanks to the heavens and promised that he’ll be travelling as fast as he could back to Seoul, in which Jeongguk immediately said that the best thing that he could do there is wait for a while until they confirm that matters are truly fine; once all of that is done, Jeongguk will ask Inhwan to send a couple of men over to his uncle so that his travel can be arranged, a preposition that the second eldest son of Don Jungsoo agreed without further complaint.

For the youngest of his two uncles, the Family scaredy-cat as Hanseo liked to tease his brother for, already knew what was happening when he answered the call. It was obvious that he was shaken but was gratefully getting his shit together as he told Jeongguk that he’s already digging into it too. This uncle of his talked about how even though the Don was already in his late 70s, he still believed that his father would not fall into sickness like that, a statement that Jeongguk had to disagree to since it was him who had to see the Don every single day and see him act more like his age the more time passed by, but he chose not to say anything for the sake of his uncle who still thought of the Don so highly that even natural causes just didn’t seem plausible for him.

After Jeongguk was done making that last call, he was about to go back to the office and update himself with the next course of actions that Hanseo must already be devising when he saw your Caller’s ID flash on his screen and he figured you must have heard the news too. He answered quickly, hearing your concerned tone over the line right as he pressed the phone again against his ear.

“Hey, Guk, is he alright?” you asked, your sweet voice entering his ears that he unconsciously relaxes, not noticing that for the past thirty minutes or so of talking with his uncles and going over with what he knew so far, he has been tense and sweating through his palms.

“Yeah, he is. They’re still checking on him though but he’s fine.”

“That’s great to hear. I was surprised when I saw the article online. Do you know that they already wrote something about Don Jungsoo?”

Jeongguk closed his eyes in exasperation. “Now I do.”

“It’s horrible. I mean, I understand that they may think that the news would downplay the company but why would they go as far as reporting a personal matter like that so quickly. It’s practically inhumane.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighed, agreeing despite knowing the precise answer to your wonder—that the news of the Don’s illness would bring definitely confidence in the other Families, that others would assume that the Jeon clan wouldn’t be as powerful as they were without Don Jungsoo, given that the majority of the important contacts they had were acquired thanks to their loyalty to Don Jungsoo.

A short pause. “How about you, sweetheart?” you asked. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugged even if you couldn’t see it. It was the first time someone asked how he was doing after the whirlwind of events. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m okay but I don’t know. I don’t feel good.”

“You must be feeling bad, I’m sorry for asking a stupid question. Your grandfather is in the hospital for god’s sake—it wouldn’t be unusual for you to feel that way. Should we visit him where he’s admitted later when I’m done here? Or you can go ahead and I’ll follow.”

“Sure, just right after I check in with Pop. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go there together.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“Thanks for asking how I am, angel.” He sighed, a small smile appearing on his features. He hated it when you downplayed your thoughtfulness by claiming it was stupid; he didn’t want you to think that he didn’t think it was sweet or touching. “I needed to hear your voice after the news. It’s a nice reliever, you know?”

“He’ll be fine, Guk.” You assured him. “The Don’s a strong man—a good man too. He’ll be okay.”

Jeongguk nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’ll be fine.” A thought jumped in his mind abruptly. “How’s your day, by the way? Have you talked with your dad?”

“Yeah, he called. He said he’ll be sending a chauffeur for me—for what reason, I don’t know what; he said that he just wanted me to get home safely. I declined though, I told him I wanted to talk to you first. Does this have to do anything with the Don?”

There were these moments wherein Jeongguk was positive that you knew much more than what you let on. He never would think you were stupid to not get what the Family really did after all these years of your father being a caporegime and your romantic relationship with him who plays an important role in the business; it’s just that a lot of people typically only assumed that the Don’s power and wealth all rooted from the power company and the other ventures the Jeon Family pursued, that it wouldn’t surprise Jeongguk if that’s what you only thought of as well. However, there were always said times like these in which you’d give him a flicker of awareness that he’d also always find himself second guessing.

Before he could have answered, Seokjin, who had slipped inside the office with Inhwan earlier while Jeongguk was conversing with his uncles, peeked outside at the hallway and looked at him. “Your pop’s asking you to pack it up quickly. You still talking with the two?”

“No. This is already ____ I’m talking with.”

“Hurry up, kid.”

Jeongguk hated it when Seokjin called him ‘kid’, even if it was used in a context of brotherly affection. He watched as the acting Consigliere disappeared inside the office again; he focused his attention back to you, still on the line and waiting. “I have to go,” he said, not bothering to pick up where the conversation was on. “They’re asking for me.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I’ll text you if I get the go signal, alright? Don’t go anywhere and just stay in the firm. I’ll fetch you myself when I finish talking to them.”

“Is it really that bad for all of you to behave this way?” Your tone was joking, light, but he knew that it was a serious question.

“No, no, it’s just a precaution. I think you’re already aware that Grandpop has a lot of enemies, don’t you?”

“I know. I just don’t know why you’d have to be careful with me too.”

Everything in the Mafia was business, nothing should ever be personal; alongside that, the Families mostly kept their words in never hurting women or children. “Just a precaution,” Jeongguk repeated. “I want—and I’m sure Inhwan wants as well—for you to be safe,” he explained.

You didn’t push it. “Okay then. I’ll be here and I won’t go anywhere unless it’s you who’s taking me.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

Jeongguk got the memo four hours later that the men that Hanseo hired to investigate the Don’s case concluded that there was no foul play involved and that the stroke the Don experienced was merely a normal occurrence because of his old age. Hanseo and the others expected it already, for since the last weeks, there have been instances in which the Don’s speech would be incomprehensible, a usual symptom for the illness. However, every time they raised the concern to the Godfather, insisting that he should go and see a doctor, even going as far as bringing the doctor themselves in the headquarters, the old man dismissed every single one of their attempts and said that he was doing well.

“We still need to secure the hospital though,” Jeongguk added after. “A lot would take advantage of Grandpop’s state. They’d want to use the excuse of his body failing on its own when they succeed in doing whatever bullshit they’d come up with in trying to get rid of him.”

“That won’t be a problem. We’ve got soldatos there from Inhwan’s regime and Seokjin already talked to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department to make sure it’s handled properly there at the hospital,” Hanseo said. “I’d ask you to send more from your regime, Guk, but let’s not draw too much attention.”

“I agree,” he nodded. “Can I go there now then? I’d like to visit him, see how he’s doing personally,” Jeongguk asked.

“Sure.” Hanseo nodded with a sigh. “Your grandma is already there so look after her too, she must be in shock as well. She always scolded him with the smoking and the drinking all these years that I bet it’s what she’s going to nag about once Pop gains consciousness. Plus, from now on, I’d like it if someone who’s actually part of the Family to be beside Pop’s bed all the time.”

“Okay.” Jeongguk looked at Inhwan. “I’m picking ____ at the firm. I’m going to be bringing her to the hospital too. Is that okay?”

Inhwan always appreciated Jeongguk’s respect for him whenever it came to you. Jeongguk never once made it look like he was unworthy of Inhwan’s trust since the both of you started going out by blatantly using his title as the Don’s grandson to do what he wanted. “You do that,” Inhwan urged.

“When do you plan on proposing to her?” Hanseo suddenly brought up while Jeongguk was heading to the door. “It’s been what? Five years? When are you going to tie the knot?”

Jeongguk glanced at Inhwan the same time Seokjin did, the Consigliere hiding the amused smirk that was beginning to show with a glass of scotch being raised to his lips. “Are you seriously going to bring that up right now, Pop? In front of Inhwan?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Inhwan looked teasing, “you know you already have my vote, Guk.”

“I appreciate that but I don’t plan on proposing yet,” Jeongguk said.

“How come? What are you waiting for? ____ already graduated, she’s already doing well in her job. The both of you can start trying to make a family. It won’t be easy to do that in the future, I’m just saying. We’re looking at the worst case scenario here, and you know that if anything happens to Pop, you’ll be my underboss.”

“Not yet,” Jeongguk only reiterated. “And Grandpop’s going to be fine. There’s no need for me to rush into these things.”

“Jeongguk,” it’s Seokjin who spoke next, “you do know that when the Don wakes up, he won’t be the same anymore, right? He’s already having problems with his talking even before this happened; no doubt we’ll have to expect worse for the following days.”

“Propose to ____,” Hanseo said in a more authoritative voice. “Then when Pop wakes up and he’s doing okay—if he doesn’t look as bad as we’re expecting him to be—let’s get you and ____ married. We’ll have the Don attend and then it’ll be shown on the news how the Don still has the strength to attend to one of the momentous occasions in his grandson’s life.”

“So, you want to use an intimate and personal event in my life as a publicity stunt?” Jeongguk scoffed.

“Don’t take it to heart, Guk.” His father frowned. “It’s for the Family.”

“It’s bound to happen sooner or later anyway,” Seokjin added. “You’ve been trying to find a ring, haven’t you?”

“Not really the time to bring that up, Jin.” Jeongguk clenched his jaw, though his annoyed expression quickly faded and he found himself nodding at the end. “But fine, alright. I’ll do it if it’s the way we should go.”

“Great.” Hanseo smiled. “Let’s just pray harder that the old man gets a full recovery then.”

Jeongguk drove to the law firm you were working at with the thought of marriage in his head. It wasn’t like it never hit him that it’s about time that the both of you get wed; Hanseo already pointed out that it’s already been five years, Seokjin already mentioned it too that he’s been finding an engagement ring as well. It’s not like Jeongguk still had his doubts most especially, he was already sure from the moment that the two of you uttered your first I love yous to each other in the past that you were going to be the one and only woman he’ll want to hear that from—no one else.

He was just afraid of pulling you into the Family further. It was inevitable and a given already, as he never once thought of letting you go for the sake of your possible safety. It was selfish and terrible of him but he always thought that if other members of the Family could do it and still keep their wives and children safe, why can’t he? After all, the Mafia might always resort to violence and blackmailing when certain happenings don’t fall in their favor, but as much as possible, they tried to not step over the line and harm a Mafioso’s blood family. Doing so would bring shame to their values and would wage a war between the Four Families as they’d support their member’s want for vengeance and justice. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

Jeongguk only hoped that it’ll always remain that way for as long as the two of you lived. He doesn’t think he would take it if something happened to you because of the business he was involved in. It was already bad enough that you’re the only weakness of your father, the only person he cherished now after your mother’s passing; now you’ve managed to become Jeongguk’s apparent weakness too.

He soon arrived at the entrance of your firm’s building. He already texted that he was on his way minutes ago, so he was pleased to see you marching out of the doors quickly once you saw his vehicle, hopping inside the passenger’s side and automatically leaning towards him as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You good?” you asked straight off the bat, a hand on the back of his neck, fingers lightly massaging his nape.

Jeongguk relaxed again at the action and stared at you before being the one to lean towards you this time, kissing you on the mouth, longer and fuller. “I am,” he said as he let go, facing forward. “All thanks to you.”

You snorted while putting on your seatbelt. “Well, I’m glad. I take it that there are no concerning affairs about the Don?”

He only shook his head in confirmation, driving forward. It didn’t take long until you both were at the hospital; Jeongguk was satisfied to see that there were a significant number of men there at the entrance, alert and eyes continuously scanning the area. When they took notice of the Don’s grandson, one of Inhwan’s men, Yoongi who was mentioned earlier and was proven innocent, greeted the two of you and insisted on letting a soldato park the car so you both could head on your way. Jeongguk thanked him and proceeded on grasping your hand, pulling you with him as he followed Yoongi towards the Don’s room.

Jeongguk hardly looked at his grandfather while consoling his grandmother along the side. He never saw Don Jungsoo as helpless as he looked at that moment; the Don has always been a hero in Jeongguk’s eyes; his protector and the person he was sure would never desert him even if worst comes to worst. Even if the doctor in charge of Don Jungsoo already assured and explained to Jeongguk that they’ve already put the necessary meds to stop the blood clot and that they’re also monitoring the Don closely, Jeongguk somehow was still not at peace.

He looked like he was though, that he was calm and composed, thanking the doctor with such politeness the Don would commend him for before Jeongguk added that if his Grandpop comes out of the hospital better and healthier, he’ll put in a word to Hanseo to reward the doctor for the service.

“Do you want me to go out and buy food?” you whispered to Jeongguk as he stared at the television, his face expressionless and making it obvious that whatever was playing in the screen wasn’t capturing his interest; his grandmother already left to eat and get some clothes at the Jeon Residential Area, so it was just Jeongguk and you for the meanwhile until his uncles and cousins would arrive. “Guk?” You placed a hand on his thigh when he didn’t answer.

He dazely turned to you. “Yeah?”

You smiled. “Are you hungry? I can go out and buy food and you can stay here.”

“No, don’t leave.” He shook his head, scooting closer to you on the sofa you were both situated in. “I’m not that hungry yet. Are you?”

“Not that much.”

“Okay.” He held your hand and pulled you towards him with it, just so he could place an arm around your shoulder. “We can just stay here until Uncle comes.”

You gazed at him from the side. “Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart,” you murmured as you leaned your head back at his bicep.

He dared to smile. You always had a knack at reading his mind—it’s either that or he’s been visibly bothered for the past minutes for you to finally say something. “Just worried about Grandpop. Hate seeing him like this.”

“Yeah, I know. This sucks.” You pressed your lips together. “Dr. Hwang said he’ll be fine though. He’s already pulling through, all we’re waiting for is when he’ll wake up.”

“I have no doubt that he’ll be fine. I just don’t like waiting. I don’t like this stage—the uncertainty. Until I see his eyes open and have him talking to me, I’ll always feel bothered.”

“We can visit him everyday until that happens. Will that make you feel better about this? I bet it’ll make the Don happy too; he’ll be pleased to know his favorite grandson has always stuck by his side.” You grinned, teasing a little.

“How do you do that?” Jeongguk abruptly blurted and you raised your eyebrows. “How do you make things feel so easy? So light?” It wasn’t the time to act lovey-dovey, especially a few steps away from the Don’s bed, but Jeongguk got reminded of his father’s request to propose to you and marry you soon, and he deemed this second as one of the reasons why having you his wife would be one of the best decisions he’ll ever make if he decides to finally go forth with it.

“I’m made for you like that.” You smirked, squeezing his hand. “I’m your personalized lover.”

Jeongguk laughed. “That’s corny as fuck.”

“Excuse me? I’m trying to lighten the mood here more and you’re going to insult my attempts?” You were already laughing with him though.

“I love you.” He grinned and ducked his head to kiss your nose since your lips were too far from reach. “Always be my angel, okay?”

You dragged yourself higher to do his unfinished task, kissing him on the lips, just an innocent peck. “I’ll stay on your shoulder forever.”

“You better.”

You kissed him again. “I love you too, Guk.”

He sighed in content, petting your head gently while you laid your temple against his chest.

Jeongguk indeed came to the Don’s hospital room everyday after that, staying longer than you could as you had a job to maintain, keeping himself updated first hand about any news about his grandpop’s health. For days he sat at the farthest side of the sofa while various visitors offered their wishes of recovery to Don Jungsoo, holding the old man’s hand and kissing it, crying on it even as if to show how sincere they were, praying profusely for his fast recuperation. Sometimes they’d offer their wishes to Jeongguk or to Hanseo when the latter was present too.

Finally after nine days, the Don opened his eyes and Jeongguk was there to witness it happen, immediately jumping out of his seat and pressing the nurse call button as per protocol right after.

The Don looked at him, his old and misty eyes staring at Jeongguk. “Hanseo?” he said and even with the error, Jeongguk still smiled.

“It’s Jeongguk, Grandpop. It’s me. I’m here.”

“Jeongguk,” Don Jungsoo repeated, slowly recognizing him. “Jeongguk, my golden boy.”

Dr. Hwang and the nurses swarmed inside the room quickly and soon enough, the other members of the Family were already there too, having just gotten the news thanks to Jeongguk who called his father as soon as the medical staff were taking care of the Don. Even you managed to arrive at the hospital upon Jeongguk’s text swiftly, entering the VIP room with Inhwan and approaching Don Jungsoo alongside your father, the old man offering you a tired yet pleased smile as your gazes connected and you bowed in respect.

You stayed with Jeongguk for another two hours before one of Jeongguk’s uncles convinced him that he should go home, take a nice shower, and rest while they take their turn in looking out for the Don. Jeongguk agreed and obviously asked if you could come home with him, which you nodded to, said your farewells to the Don, and then fled with Jeongguk to go to their home at the Jeon Residential Area. Once there, you stayed in his room as he took a nice bath, sprawled your body on his bed and waited until he was done so you could ask what he wanted for dinner.

He came out of the bathroom just as you were talking with a fellow associate at the law firm on the phone. You ended the call shortly at his return and smiled at him; Jeongguk went to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist that you would have been fazed about if it wasn’t an already common sight to see. Nonetheless, it was still a sight that you were happy to be blessed with, your eyes trailing to the curve of his tattoo-filled arms, his defined chest and abs, right over to his muscular back that Jeongguk noticed you were truly ogling at when he glanced at your direction.

“You’re drooling, angel.” He smirked and you flickered your stare back to his eyes. “You like what you see?”

“Don’t I always?” You let out a huge breath, Jeongguk grinning and walking to your spot on the bed.

He leaned down, tilting his head to the side and pressed his mouth against yours. You ultimately melted at his touch and your insides easily squirmed in desire with that one gesture. Jeongguk felt the same way, felt the same impulse to go where this was headed faster. Being the patient and considerate man he always was however, he waited until you made the second move, the move that will reassure him that you wanted it as much as he did, and the instance you tugged his towel downwards that caused it to fall down, he didn’t waste time in pushing you forward so that you’d lay on the bed and under him.

The Jeon Family was still a little old-fashioned sometimes because of Don Jungsoo; the Don still expressed his disapproval of premarital sex whenever the subject rose as he’s a firm believer that a woman should be kept pure before the night of the wedding. It was an ironic principle by the Don really, as he still condoned the organization protecting one of the largest strip joints in the city and subsequently caved into the business of prostitution as well. Perhaps it was just a value he wanted to keep within the family—a value that Jeongguk has honestly not been able to keep with you.

It was foreseeable though as you and Jeongguk were in your prime, only in your late 20s, still considerably young; the both of you were also a good looking pair and a very smitten one too. It simply would be impossible to think that nothing happened at least once in the five years you’ve been a couple. If that was the case, people would have to commend you two for the self-control and the dedication to keep the Don’s virtues within yourselves as well.

For the past week, Jeongguk has been longing to have you this near him. He’s been too preoccupied with his grandpop’s condition and what’s been going on in the business too that he hasn’t indulged himself in anything that could keep his mind away from it. With the Don unable to lead, it was Hanseo who acted as the boss of the Jeon Family; whether a lot approved of it or reckoned Hanseo as a great successor so far, Jeongguk wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to hear anything that would cause unnecessary anger and stress on his part, so he chose not to hear the opinions of others about it. He only knew that Seokjin argued a lot with Hanseo just to put his father in the right mindset.

It’s obvious that Jeongguk has indeed been craving this with the harsh slams of his hips against your thighs as he spreads you further. It’s been seconds since he triggered an orgasm from you after eating you out like a starved man, shoving two fingers in and out of you rapidly as well, intent on making you come and get you prepped for him as fast as he could for he truly has been too eager to feel you around him again. Two weeks of not getting to make love with you was too much of a long time for Jeongguk to put it plainly.

“You wasted your shower,” you moaned as he lifted a leg of yours over his shoulder, your intention to tease apparent even if you were already being railed deliciously.

“I can just take another one. With you.”

You felt the pit of your stomach beginning to knot once more in pleasure and Jeongguk grunted as you squeezed him tighter. He dropped your leg and fell forward, latching his mouth around a nipple while a free hand groped your other breast. You gripped the hair at the back of his head, tugging its strands firmly, prompting a louder grunt from Jeongguk that sounded more of a growl than any other sound he has made and he let your nipple go to return to your mouth.

“Fuck—” you cursed with a hiss— “I’m gonna come again.” You whined.

“Touch yourself for me,” he softly ordered.

You followed his command and reached down to strum your clit hastily, Jeongguk pounding his cock inside your cunt in a sloppier manner. He too was close and was already aiming to take the both of you to your highs without any more delay. In a few more thrusts, more dirty whispers on your ear as he coaxed you to come again—to milk him dry and to let yourself go—your second orgasm rippled through you greatly; your loud noises of ecstacy probably being heard beyond the four walls of Jeongguk’s bedroom that he covered your mouth with his own to not let anyone near catch it. He might be delighted to let anyone know you were being treated well in the bedroom, but he still valued your want of privacy.

“Can I come inside?” He’s heaving, sweat running down his temple and chest. “Please? Please let me come inside your pretty pussy.” Jeongguk was whining at that point, dragging every bit of his control to not blow his load just yet.

You nodded, eyes closed, muttered yes over and over again, and with your permission, Jeongguk came inside you like stated. He groaned against your neck, forehead crushing the pillow by your head, his sweet moans eliciting goosebumps to rise on your skin. He gave you a couple of slow thrusts and then pulled out, kneeling on the mattress between your legs to stare at his cum seeping down your cunt. He grinned, stroking the tip along your folds in satisfaction, pushing two fingers in to keep his load in it, and when he was done, he crawled to your side, gently hauling you to his chest.

You ran your palm on his opposite shoulder and squeezed it while your cheek rested on its twin. “I’m tired.”

“You can take a nap,” he whispered, planting kisses on your forehead and hair, anywhere his lips could touch.

“I feel icky down there.”

He laughed and you pushed yourself up to glare at him playfully. Jeongguk remained grinning; he cupped your face and kissed you on the lips again. Soon you were on your back like earlier and he was hovering over you, the both of you making out. “Angel,” he mumbled, the endearment he loved using the most because of his reasoning that you were one of those heavenly creatures yourself, rang in your head in a more loving way, and you clung yourself against him closer, “you’ll marry me if I asked, right?”

You released his lips, pushing his face away, your thoughts returning to earth at his out of the blue inquiry. “What?”

“Marry me,” he said with more conviction, his eyes staring through yours. “I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.”

You chuckled. “I already am.”

“Then make me the happiest man alive by saying yes.”

“Guk—”

“I love you. You love me. We’ve been loving each other since forever. Why don’t we officiate it?”

“Is this your ‘I just got laid and I feel high’ brain speaking?”

“____…” he called you by your name, a rather rare occurrence if it’s just the two of you than most people would think; you understood then that he was really being serious, “I want to marry you.”

You gazed at him, your hand pushing his hair back away from his face. You appeared amazed, like you were waiting for the punch line of his joke or for him to generally just take his words back—but it never came, Jeongguk just remained staring at you, waiting for you to answer, and with a shaky exhale after realizing he was for real, you nodded. “Okay. Propose to me then.”

He kissed you; he placed his lips close to your ear; he murmured and confessed his love to you all over again. You smiled all throughout, your heartbeat beating fast and your eyes welling up as you listened to him recount dozens of memories with you, memories that you weren’t even aware he remembered up until that moment. As his finale, he asked you again if you would do the honor of marrying him, to make him the happiest man alive, though barely finishing his sentence, he abruptly propelled himself up from his position and rummaged for something in the bedside table at your left, and when he let you see what he stole from the drawer’s contents, it was a red box.

“Have you always had that right there?” you exclaimed, amused.

“No, just last night. I was beating myself up for not being able to think of a creative way of proposing soon and I might have shoved this ring too hard inside the drawer.”

You chuckled. “You’re unbelievable, Guk. You’re naked and you’re proposing and now you’re telling me you’ve endangered my supposed engagement ring?”

He ignored your teasing, acknowledging it only with a grin. “Will you marry me?” he finished his propal and opened the box; as expected of Jeongguk’s superior taste, the diamond ring that was placed in the center was so gorgeous you widened your eyes in astonishment.

You stared at the ring longer and looked up at him; you tipped your head to the side for effect and gestured to him to come closer. He did with a roll of his eyes, setting his head near yours and you hooked your arm around his neck, pulling him lower before whispering too in his ear. “Yes.”

What happened next was consisted of childlike giggling, Jeongguk pushing the ring on your ring finger, Jeongguk tackling you in an embrace, the both of you telling each other “I love you so much” until the phrase wore out, and then the inevitable love making for the second time that evening that also came to be more heartfelt than the last one—one that Jeongguk automatically added to his long list of unforgettable memories with you, his soon-to-be wife.

━ CHAPTER IV.

You didn’t want anything too flashy, that’s what you made clear. You wanted the wedding ceremony to only be attended by close friends and family; you wanted it to be intimate and personal as a wedding you thought should be. And although Jeongguk agreed and understood your point when you told him that, he expressed early on too that it was not going to be easy to make it happen for the sole reason that the person you were marrying was the grandson of the great Don Jungsoo—meaning that flashy and well-publicized would be the adjectives that would describe your wedding with him and not intimate and personal.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely right across from you on the table; the two of you were having lunch in some fancy restaurant near your law firm, the topic of wedding plans arising while you ate. “I wish I could say that I can just go ahead and tell Grandpop that I’d like to keep our wedding private, but you know how he is. You know how this family is.”

For the last few weeks, the Don’s health has been better. There were still risks, of course; he wasn’t magically cured from all illnesses just because he woke up and recovered. He was still an old man after all, and ever since the incident happened to him, his speech has notably become incomprehensible at times; a part of his face also slightly drooped, though you wouldn’t really notice it unless you’ve been staring at the Godfather your whole life and was sensitive to changes like that. As for his body though, he became thinner and in every step he took, looked like he grew heavier too. However, in regards to Don Jungsoo’s wisdom and ability to share intelligent thoughts, it was still gratefully there, just shared in a fashion that was a bit slower than before and perhaps harder to understand.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said. “What if we just elope and get married at some place like Vegas instead?” You were clearly joking. You showed it in the small upward curve of the other end of your lips, but you knew that Jeongguk sensed that there was still some genuinity hidden behind your light guise. “I’m kidding,” you added for a quick measure.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. There’s no reason for you to do so.”

“It’s just that I think I’m depriving you of spending our wedding day the way you want it. Haven’t you dreamed about something like this when you were young?”

“I did. I forgot about it eventually too. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’ll be a big deal to me if my beautiful bride won’t be happy on our special day.”

“Keep up the flattery and I’ll assure you that your beautiful bride will be happy.” You chuckled.

“Okay, how about this—” Jeongguk reached out and grasped your hand— “you do everything you want for the wedding and I won’t object. You can pick the theme, the food, the cake—everything. The only thing I’ll be having control over is the extra guesses for the ceremony and reception.”

“Guk, come on, I won’t deprive you like that. This is your wedding too.”

“I just want it to be memorable and have it the way you want, angel.”

“As long as you’re the one I’m saying I do too—it’ll be memorable and be exactly like I dreamed of. Don’t worry.”

Jeongguk grinned. “You mean that?”

“Would I have said yes if I didn’t?”

He chuckled and brought your knuckles to his lips, smooching it loudly in a playful yet sweet way.

Two months after that, you had your engagement party at the villa. Your home was big enough to accomodate people and it was a good thing that at least in that event, you had only spent it with your close loved ones and not anyone who wanted to suck up to your groom and steal him throughout the whole event, perhaps drowning him in unnecessary praises and ego boosts to get a good word from Jeongguk to Don Jungsoo. It was Jeongguk’s promise that he would ask the Don to keep the engagement party as exclusive as what you wanted, and indeed it is what happened.

There were people from your law firm, friends from college and from law school, and as for Jeongguk’s peers, he invited only a small number of people he knew; he told you they were mostly family friends, some college friends too, and close relatives. Your father, Inhwan, couldn’t help but invite his own set of guests, mostly people he knew through the Don. Of course, that only meant that the Don and his wife were also present in the event, along with Jeongguk’s parents, Hanseo and Yeonjin, and Seokjin with his wife as well.

A lot of people gawked and praised your diamond engagement ring, gushing how it looked dashing on your beautiful hand and how Jeongguk must have really gone all the way to buy it for you. In the moments your fiancé heard such admiration, he, who was standing beside you all day, smiled and squeezed your waist, glancing at you before declaring that it’s because you only deserve the best every single time. Ladies shared meaningful looks of envy with each other and teased you for being so lucky; gentlemen whistled in hilarity and gave Jeongguk playful pushes. Anybody with two eyes saw how you both shared great love and respect for one another, that it was always either admirable or gut-wrenching (in a good way).

“Are you ready to be part of the family?” Seokjin suddenly popped beside you and handed you a champagne flute. Jeongguk just left to go to the bathroom and unbeknownst to you, had asked Seokjin to take his place for a while until he came back.

You thanked him. “Is that question some kind of test?”

“Yep. If you say the wrong answer, I get to claim that fancy ring as my prize.” He nodded at your hand where the ring glimmered in the hanging lights. “I think I can support my family with that for over a couple of years.”

You snickered at his sarcasm.

While you were growing up, you have always admittedly been closer to Seokjin than you were with Jeongguk. Before your fiancé officially entered your life and claimed what would soon be his permanent place, it was Seokjin who you frequently saw and hung around with. The two of you had a similar sense of humor that you found clear connection in; he was and acted like an older brother you never had—in Jeongguk’s case, he already was an adoptive brother of the young man for since the death of Seokjin’s parents when he was in high school, Hanseo, who was his godfather, took him in the family. Inhwan was there to fend for him too, hence why you two became close, however, there was a period in your friendship wherein it faded out a little when he went to the States to pursue his baccalaureate and Juris Doctor degree, a path that you too was supposed to take as an aspiring lawyer yourself but with your father having no one close to real family if you did, you opted to stay.

“Is it odd that I’m a little nervous about it?” you asked him after a few seconds of silence. “Like, me and Guk have been together for so long, and I know his family likes me, but why do I still feel like they might change their mind when we get married?”

“As in Yeonjin becomes an evil mother-in-law?” He smirked and you gave him a look at the question. “Your worries are pointless, really. You know they already adore you. Hell, even the Don loves you and that’s an achievement of its own. You don’t have anything to be troubled about, ____.”

“The Don loves everyone.” You sipped on your flute.

“He loves everyone who his family loves,” he corrected. “To others he’s just kind and generous.”

You scrunched your forehead together and stared then at the Don who sat on a table far from yours. He was talking to Hanseo and Inhwan, a rather somber expression on his face; his mouth moved in a slow and steady bearing. You’ve thanked him earlier for going still despite his obvious declining health. He was still able to do things on his own and appear like he has always been, but being one to know what’s really going on behind the glamour of Don Jungsoo, you were aware that his first case of having a stroke took its toll on him; a fact that you noticed the Jeon Family has been trying to conceal.

“Seokjin, can you be honest with me?” you suddenly began.

He glanced at you. “About what?”

“The reason why your family insists on having the wedding as soon as possible.” You turned to him. “It’s because of Don Jungsoo’s condition, isn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Just an observation.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think questions like that ought to be asked to Jeongguk instead?”

“I already did.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“He said that he wants his grandfather to be present and healthy on the special day, that’s why we should get married as soon as possible.”

“Then that’s the reason.”

“That’s a reason,” you said. “I have a feeling there’s more.”

Seokjin stared at you and brought the rim of his champagne on his lips. “You’re a smart girl, princess,” he replied. “And because of that, I’m sure you’ll figure it out on your own.”

You dared to snort in amusement. You knew that Seokjin was another one who didn’t budge, but it was still worth the shot.

You wanted to be let in with whatever has been happening since the Don’s mishap as you didn’t think that the way they reacted was how a normal family would when the head of your clan just suffered from a stroke. They were still sympathetic, of course, overly concerned about the health of the Don, however you had felt the tension that rose within the Jeon Family in the days that Don Jungsoo remained lying unconscious on his hospital bed. You saw how troubled Jeongguk was, even saw your father look visibly stressed, though what you had found most peculiar were the way outsiders were reacting to the news of the Don falling ill. They were taking every opportunity to bring down his name and his family—referring to him with titles such as ‘mob boss’ and ‘king of the underworld’ that it was impossible for you not to be curious.

“What did I miss?” Jeongguk returned to your place with raised eyebrows. “What’s with the serious faces?”

“I was welcoming ____ to the family,” Seokjin told him.

You decided to play along. His disregard of the last conversation probably meant he wasn’t keen on talking about it again. “More like threatening me. He wants to steal my ring.” You laughed at the same time Seokjin did when he heard you.

“I’m going to see this more often, aren’t I?” Jeongguk’s arm snaked around your waist while his eyes moved back and forth between you two. “The both of you just constantly ganging up on me with inside jokes or whatever?”

“Maybe. That’s what makes ____ the best sister-in-law, though.”

“The only sister-in-law actually.” You snickered. Seokjin clinked his glass with yours.

After the engagement party took place, came the rapid planning for the wedding. Don Jungsoo was ever so kind to pledge that all expenses for the ceremony and the reception were to be paid by him, an offer that you wanted to reject for even though you appreciated his kindness with all of your heart, you didn’t want to burden him and take advantage of it in that kind of extent. Jeongguk convinced you not to do so and just go along with it though; he said that The Don gained happiness by doing favors like that to his loved ones, especially to his favorite grandson, as he proudly claimed. Jeongguk insisted that it would bring great satisfaction to his Grandpop to know that he made a huge contribution to an important event of both of your lives.

So, you agreed, and in five months’ time, the wedding ceremony commenced and with just a blink of an eye, you found yourself being a true married woman to Jeon Jeongguk. You vowed to love him endlessly and to always be by his side in a cathedral that fit hundreds of people, people who you either knew well or have never met in your whole life. But you found yourself not caring as much with the amount of individuals present like you initially did. All you cared about was how handsome Jeongguk looked in his midnight blue tuxedo and his hair styled in a fashion that had one side slicked back and the other had some strands falling on his forehead, his big and boyish grin that he displayed right after when he shed some tears as he saw you walk down the aisle, his promises of devotion to you from that point forward, and especially the strength and earnestness of his kiss when the priest finally said “You may now kiss the bride”.

“I love you,” he whispered to you as he leaned back, his face only centimeters away, those words the only thing processing in your head while the crowd clapped and cheered

You grinned, kissing him more. “And I love you.”

The reception was held in one of the Don’s owned properties, a spacious mansion that no doubt was able to cater the hundreds of guests present. It was decorated in line with yours and Jeongguk’s chosen theme for the reception which was rustic, fitting the also rustic architecture of the venue. There were dark wooden chairs and tables covered only partially with white linen tablecloth; hand-tied bouquets and florals with greenery on baskets at some parts of the walls; antique ornaments and lights hanging on the ceiling; and the ambiance of the place was simply just the way you both wanted, delighting you two when you first arrived.

You slightly grew self-conscious with the amount of guests again when the host introduced you and Jeongguk as a married couple. You scanned the audience and saw a lot of familiar faces—and they were familiar not because you knew them personally, but because you have seen them on TV or in a newspaper once. You were aware that the Don had a lot of friends from the entertainment industry too, but you didn’t think that some of them would actually be close enough with the Don to be invited to the wedding.

“Just say the magic word and I’ll bail us out,” Jeongguk said against your ear while a distant relative of his sang in the center of the hall. The fun games were over and the program was going towards its end, the only thing left were the warm messages and the performances that your loved ones prepared for the special day.

You turned to him and chuckled. “First of all, I have no idea of this magic word that you’re talking about. Second of all—that eager to get me alone, huh?”

His eyes glinted.

You two made a pack since your engagement party that you would not partake in any sexual acts (the most would only be making out or groping if the libido was too tough to handle) before the wedding to make the night of the honeymoon more awaited for. It wasn’t even that long, to be frank (okay, maybe it was—five months was a considerable long time) but it was the longest in a while that you haven’t had sex since you started doing such act with him. Jeongguk was okay with the idea and agreed that it’ll make the wedding night more worth the wait.

However, earlier at the room where the both of you changed into different clothes for the reception, Jeongguk had kissed you and you kissed him back with the same flaring passion he was showing, prompting an unplanned heavy make out session that also brought a palm of his on one of your ass cheeks, your husband squeezing it and groaning, murmuring how he couldn’t wait until later to have you again. You jokingly slapped it away and told him to be more patient, which he groaned louder for and kissed you one last time before finishing on dressing up.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he continued, still whispering close to your ear. “You looked so gorgeous in the wedding dress—and now look at you right now, angel. You’re really giving me the impression that you truly are a gift from the heavens.”

You smiled. You were wearing a more daring attire for the reception, a lace maxi dress with a straight neckline and thin shoulder straps; it had a slit on the right side just above your knee as well, but it wasn’t that aspect of the dress that made it daring, it was the fact it completely exposed your back from behind and only had strings tied across its ends to make it appear not completely backless.

“You can take it off for me later,” you told him with a smirk.

Jeongguk huffed at that. “Don’t plant the idea in my head or I’m going to have a boner all night.”

“Well, it’s only fair. Do you think I’m fine with your chest practically in my face?” you retorted, and in cue, flickered your gaze down to his chest where the polo he was wearing had three buttons opened, giving anyone the view of his impressive pecs.

He seemed pleased that you noticed it. “You’re more than welcome to take it off for me too.”

“I’ll rip it off you, sweetheart.” You chuckled and pecked the corner of his mouth. He hummed and placed a cheeky hand on your upper thigh at the action, and when your eyes followed where his hand was travelling, you automatically lowered it down to your knee. “Guk.”

“Okay, okay,” he frowned and faced his palm up, an invitation for you to intertwine it with his and you accepted the offer, “I’ll behave.”

For the rest of the night, after the special performances by good friends and family, the reception felt like a campaign and Jeongguk was the candidate as it neared its conclusion. Acquaintances and business partners talked and congratulated him—they congratulated you too, of course, but you sensed that it was only mere politeness that made them do so. Their real target was still the Don’s grandson and having the chance to butter him up for the sake of getting on the good side of Don Jungsoo. In fact, you think that Don Jungsoo was perhaps more acknowledged than you throughout the evening as you recalled the amount of men that went to his table and shook his hand in eagerness for the duration of the function.

“Really, Dad? You’re going to cry at this last moment?” you teased your father; his expression was solemn and he had his lips pursed as you bid him your farewells to go to the airport where you’ll be flying to Jeju Island for the honeymoon. He didn’t cry when he handed you to Jeongguk at the cathedral, or shed a tear when you shared your father-daughter dance at the reception, but now it looked like his tear ducts were finally surrendering in defeat.

“I’m not crying,” he denied, though his hug was tight when you embraced him. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’m still coming back after two weeks, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, kiddo.” He pulled back and kissed you on the forehead, holding you out within arm’s length to gaze at you fondly. “I guess I’m a little overreacting. Imagine if your mom was still here.”

“No doubt there’ll be waterfalls coming from her eyes.” You joked. One of the fond memories you had of your late mother was how easy it was to trigger a tear from her.

“Inhwan,” Jeongguk just finished instructing some men to help with the luggages so he decided to join the two of you, “or is it Dad too from now on?”

Inhwan laughed lightly as the young man stood beside you. “Sure, why not? You’re officially my son-in-law now anyways.”

Jeongguk gestured for a hug and Inhwan complied. He patted Inhwan’s back and said with a soft voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to always make ____ happy. She’s safe with me.”

“I know you will.” Inhwan grasped his shoulder when they both leaned away. “That’s why I like you so much, Guk. You’re a good one, you take care of my kid well.” They shared a smile.

While they continued to talk, you approached Hanseo, Yeonjin, and Jeongguk’s grandmother. You told them your thanks again for being part of the momentous occasion and for helping in making it happen in the way you wanted. Hanseo told you that it was no problem; Yeonjin kissed your cheek and said she was happy to finally have a daughter herself; Jeongguk’s grandmother embraced you and gave your cheek a kiss as well, saying there that she should begin passing on famous recipes in the Jeon household to you. Next, you moved to the Don who was just about to go ahead and sit at the backseat of his designated vehicle, but upon seeing you walk to him, stopped and waited until you two were finally standing face to face.

“Thank you so much for everything today, Don Jungsoo,” you said, bowing to show your respect. Even though the Don has been nothing but kind and goodhearted to you in the past years you have known him, you were still cautious whenever you interacted with the old man for the reason that is you were still intimidated by his presence and the powerful aura he gave off. “I appreciate it so much, truly, I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for being so generous.”

“You’re part of the family now, ____,” he clasped a hand of yours between his and tapped it gently, “so please feel comfortable to call me as Jeongguk would. It is I who should be thanking you for being there for my grandson no matter how difficult that boy can be. Everything I’ve done is nothing compared to the joy you’ve given him amidst the hardships he goes through everyday.”

“Oh, it comes both ways, I assure you. Jeongguk was clearly raised well for him to be this wonderful.”

“I hope that stays for a long time then—you and Jeongguk respecting and loving each other. One thing I’m sure in this withered life of mine is that loyalty plays a huge part in how events play out. The best investment you can ever have in your life is a good partner to spend it with.” He gave your hand another pat and then he let go. “Tell me if Jeongguk ever gives you a hard time and I’ll teach him a lesson.”

“That’s impossible, Grandpop.” Jeongguk walked from behind you and hugged his grandfather goodbye. “I don’t think you've noticed but ____ clearly has the pants in this relationship.”

They laughed, the Don’s laughter coming out as a wheeze though the smile on his face was unmistakably and genuinely amused. He said his final farewells to you two and you told him yours, saying too that you hope for him to keep on getting better that the Don appreciably smiled at and said his thanks. You watched as the vehicle he was in drove away, two more following closely behind as another led the path, placing the car where Don Jungsoo was in the middle.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk asked when it was just you two there.

You smiled at him. “Yeah.”

You arrived at Jeju Island at about 10:56 PM that night. Out of all the places you could have gone to, you and him decided that Jeju Island was the one to go for the honeymoon because it was the same place where you celebrated your first anniversary in the past. Besides, you two didn’t want to go to another beautiful country and exhaust yourselves more with the travel time and all the arrangements you’d have to do for the location you’d be staying in for two weeks. The hotel you’ll be residing in was sponsored yet again by Jeongguk’s family.

“I hope you’re not too tired.” Jeongguk smirked at you while you both walked out of the elevator to head to the suite you were going to settle in for the mini vacation.

You glanced at him and smirked back; your hands were intertwined and you were swaying it back and forth childishly. “Me? Of course not.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent. How about you?”

“You really want to ask that?” He was looking at you differently now, eyes shaping themselves in a manner that you were all too familiar with.

“Well, I’m asking you because I’m just hoping you won’t sleep on me. I know we haven’t gotten proper action in months for you to miss this opportunity but let’s be real—when you’re tired, you’re tired.”

“I swear, I’m not.” He chuckled and paused with you as you arrived by the door. “I’m too pumped for me to be and indeed miss this opportunity.” He brought out the keycard, pressed it against the intended spot, and you heard the lock disengage with an audible click

At the sound of that, you began to get jitters. It was another one of those funny things you’ve been experiencing with anything related to Jeongguk since the engagement—that even though you’ve been with him practically half of your life and was one of the people you could be your absolute self and be assured you won’t be judge—you were starting to feel awkward and shy at times, such as this moment right here where even though Jeongguk had already kept the keycard back in his pocket and had opened the door to welcome yourselves to the room, you were frozen on where you stood, your feet seemingly stuck.

He appeared to have sensed your sudden showcase of reluctance for he abruptly faced you, his hands going on your bare arms as he smiled. “Let’s go?” He tilted his head towards the suite. Your luggages were already there, placed kindly by the hotel staff while you and Jeongguk were finalizing some papers at the lobby.

You shook every feeling of wariness away and nodded. At the gesture, Jeongguk’s smile widened into a grin and as fast as he could, he scooped you in his arms in what popular media would call ‘bridal style’, emitting a surprised yelp from you though you prevented your mouth from producing more noise by covering it with a hand while he walked further inside the room, kicking the door close behind him.

“Guk!” You laughed and he did too, face getting closer to yours until he captured your lips successfully.

You reciprocated as soon as you felt him kiss you, your arms being thrown around his neck so you could support yourself better. Jeongguk laid you down on the bed and you realized that rose petals were on them when your back hit the mattress, your eyes opening and spinning down to check if what you were thinking of were true and true enough, there they were. You had to make a mental note to thank the owner of the hotel for being accommodating enough to do the effort of creating a romantic atmosphere; they might do this as a standard for newly-weds, but the owner was a good friend of Hanseo’s so you wanted to express your gratitude personally.

“You said I could take this off, right?” Jeongguk ran his hands on the sides of your dress and you nodded.

He moved his mouth to your throat and kicked off with what he’s been yearning to do for those whole five months of not getting the proper taste of you. Despite the longing and the anticipation though, Jeongguk didn’t act rashly; instead he did anything rather excruciatingly slow—the way his lips moved against yours, how he untied the straps that enabled your dress to stay together, the manner in which he removed it from your body, planting wet kisses on your skin where the fabric of your dress previously glided on… fucking hell, you didn’t know whether you were trembling already because of his obvious unhurriedness or because you knew where his ministrations were going to take you.

“So pretty,” he breathed out raggedly as he squeezed your breasts. You were completely undressed before him as he intended, the only thing left was your white laced underwear that you wore to match the dress. “I think I’m going to nut by this sight of you alone, angel.”

You dared to chuckle. “Is it my turn to rip your polo off now?” Your hands were fondling the collar of his top.

“Be my guest.” He smirked.

Unlike him, you were swift in unbuttoning his long-sleeved polo, hastily pushing it past his shoulders to slide it off his arms. In the approximately ten seconds you did that, you kept on kissing him, sucking lightly on his lower lip, Jeongguk helping you in discarding the material away from his body as well. When that was done, he surged forward, laying over you on the bed, and you quickly carried on with removing his pants, briskly unbuckling his belt and unzipping it to grant you the freedom to tug it down his thighs.

As he pressed his body against you, you ultimately felt his hardness on your stomach, a sensation that you groan at, your insides tingling. You instinctively reached down and grabbed his cock over his boxers to feel it more, massaging and groping it, just the way he liked and what Jeongguk responded to by nibbling your jaw harshly. “Fuck,” he moaned before uttering a warning, “not too fast, not too fast.”

“Want you,” you pant, ignoring his protest, your palm not slowing down, “right now, Guk. Want your dick in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” He grunted, disposing of his boxers and flinging it off his feet. “Does my pretty wife want her mouth fucked first?”

You grinned at the title. It made your pussy clench into nothing. “Yes.”

He gnawed at your jaw before leaning back. “Scoot higher for me.” He instructed and you followed, backing up on the bed until you stopped at the pillows by the head. There were still petals all over the sheets that you had to flick them away with the back of your hand.

Jeongguk trailed his kisses from your knees up to your inner thighs, hands sensually caressing your sides then your breasts. He always had a thing for your tits; he received pleasure from just seeing them cupped by his hands, loved it when it jiggled when he fucked you hard—the image of that alone popping in his head making him harder. Without delay then, he proceeded on going forth with your request, Jeongguk kneeling over you, both of his knees on either side of your shoulders, the tip of cock on your chin.

There was precum leaking on it, a sight that you salivated at. Jeongguk gave his shaft a few strokes, teasing you by gliding the end of his dick on your lips. “Shit,” he groaned when he indulged himself in finally pushing his cock inside your mouth, “that feels so good already, angel. Just like that—I missed that mouth.”

His thrusts were relaxed. He didn’t really want to rush. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and pushed all loose strands away, wanting to get a clear view of your face. You had your eyes closed and you were bobbing your head voluntarily to meet each thrust of his hips. At one instance, you let the tip reach the farthest it could go and you gagged a little, pulling back with a heavy gasp. Jeongguk stretched behind him and touched your clothed heat, feeling how soaked it already was and how just a light press brought a lengthy moan out of you.

“Fuck, fuck.” He cursed as he fucked your mouth faster, your hand palming his balls, though upon the last minute, once his cock was starting to pulsate and his balls were tightening, he pulled back.

You exhaled, some saliva connecting your lips and his cock, and Jeongguk kissed your mouth sloppily before he slithered down to stop right in front of your cunt, working faster now as he pulled your underwear off and dived right in between your legs, sucking and slurping on your clit with a profound determination. His groans and grunts added to the pleasure—you loved hearing him get so into the act of whatever it was that he was doing to drive you crazy—craved it at times even, his sweet sounds even staying in your mind after you were both done. Jeongguk spreaded your lips and spat right on them and went back in, growling.

“So sweet. I’ve been dreaming about tasting this pussy again,” he said, two fingers rubbing it as his tongue licked your clit. “I could drink you up all night.” He inserted the fingers right in your hole and you mewled, arching your back slightly at the movement, moreso as he rapidly pushed it in and out, all the while still sucking your bundle of nerves. It felt like it was going on forever; everything was so good and your toes were curling already in anticipation. He switched between fucking you with his digits and his tongue, your walls welcoming the muscle every time and giving him something to taste.

“Ah—holy shit, I’m close—” you grabbed a fistful of his hair— “fucking hell—I’m going to come.”

The usual thing that Jeongguk would have done was keep up with his speed until you were coming on his face, your juices right on his mouth, his chin, just everywhere—but he stopped, for he had already thought that if there was anywhere you would be coming on for the first time in the last five months, it was going to be on his cock. And so he pulled away and hauled you closer by dragging you towards him roughly with your thighs. You gasped at the sudden showcase of strength, Jeongguk dropping back over you to devour your breasts.

His shaft was pressing against your heat, so near that it was causing you to be more impatient. Jeongguk nibbled a bud and squeezed the other, noisy and so fucking erotic it was sending you off to another space. You couldn’t take it anymore; you tried rubbing your folds together on his dick.

“Fuck me, Guk—please, please,” you begged and cried. “I can’t—I wanna feel you so bad now.”

He stopped paying attention to your tits and looked up, his hair messy and his eyes completely dazed. He brought himself higher so your faces were in level and kissed you; you still tasted what’s left of you in his mouth. “You want my cock inside your pussy?” he asked.

You nodded hastily. “Want it, please.”

“Really? How much?”

“So fucking much.”

“Is that the best thing you could do?” His fingers wrapped itself on your jaw and he tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, just made you steady—made you pay more attention to reality; he knew you liked it. “Beg harder for it, angel,” he said, looking straight in your eyes now.

You whined. “Please, please, please—I want it.” You marveled his chest, your palms appreciably massaging his pecs. “I want you to fuck me hard—want you to come in my pussy, fill me up so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” His fingers moved to your throat as he leaned back. “You want me to knock you up on our wedding night?”

“Jeongguk—please—fuck me, please.”

He dared to chuckle at the desperation. “Well, who am I to deprive my wife of what she wants, hmm?” He began to align his dick on your entrance. It’s been too long since his manhood was directly on your heat that even he shudders at the contact. “My beautiful wife deserves to be fucked good, doesn’t she?” It was obvious how the fondness of calling you his wife was already planted within him in the not even 24 hours of being married.

You were definitely not thinking straight anymore as he pushed it in. “Yes, yes, yes—” you moaned the words out in a chant, the stretch his cock does to your cunt compelling a louder cry from you in pleasure.

Jeongguk too was desperate. He fucked you fast and hard straight off which your slickness allowed him to do so without difficulty. His fingers that remained on your throat tightened in just the right amount, choking you in just the right way as he kept himself at a distance while he hovered over you. Jeongguk has always been a mix of aggressive and loving when it came to bed; it was either he was too aggressive or excessively loving, both that you didn’t have any complaints about. At the end of each ‘session’, he always satisfied you nonetheless and made you feel absolutely amazing—you never had one encounter with him that had you dismayed or upset after.

You were really getting close the more he rocked against you. You weren’t one too hard to be pleased—to trigger an orgasm from—especially if it’s Jeongguk we were talking about here, and given the five-month long of abstinence from sex to make this first night of the honeymoon extra worthwhile, you were too sensitive to hold back and control yourself from coming already. Jeongguk of course sensed that you were close, he groaned and growled whenever you clenched around his cock, your warm walls bringing him to the edge alongside you.

“You gonna come, angel?” He let go of your throat and was spreading your legs further, pushing and bending you forward. “Gonna come for me?”

You nodded, unable to speak, and he gave you one last hard kiss before he paused in working his hips to start lifting you up, erupting another whine from you for you were already there at the very last second when he did so, though you tried to make yourself as light as possible as he sat and made you sit on him, his cock not leaving your cunt. You got the hint and attached your mouth back on his, riding him in a fast pace instantly, continuing on where the both of you left on.

Jeongguk gave your ass a hard slap and gripped them firmly, bouncing you up and down on his dick faster. “That’s it, that’s it,” he grumbled, sliding his hand down to strum your clit, “that’s right, fucking use my cock to get off. That cock is fucking yours to use.”

You threw your head back and he used that as an opportunity to lavish on your chest, sucking and licking, and with the overwhelming sensation of his dick, the friction, the stimulation on your clit—in an abrupt snap, you came hard without warning, practically screaming his name as you did so, thighs convulsing uncontrollably, Jeongguk moaning too, cupping your face and dragging it close to his so he could kiss you and add to the pleasure you were experiencing.

You rode him until your thighs were aching and until he was on the verge of coming himself. Jeongguk urged you off him and turned you on your back when he was close, the side of your face falling on the mattress. He held your hips up, pushed your upper half down further, and fucked you senseless immediately, not wasting time, overstimulating your sensitive pussy but it was too good to ask him to stop.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good—so tight, don’t know how I fucking lived without the feel of this for fucking months—” he moaned and gave your ass another hard slap, the sound of it ringing in your ears and making you clench. Jeongguk cursed again at the action and bent down to press his chest against you, sloppy kisses given on your shoulders and neck. “I’m gonna come. Gonna come inside you.”

“Please,” you choked out.

“You too. Come with me, angel.”

“Guk,” you whined, your tone protesting.

He was ramming onto your harder, his hips going haywire, and his hand went under your bodies to caress your breast, fingers pinching the bud. “Please—fucking, holy shit—I know you can. I know you can come for me. You’re my good girl. My sweet—” he shoved his cock deeper, pulling back from the tip and then pushing it all in— “sweet, fucking, beautiful girl.”

It is when he did that previous movement for a couple of times and whispered more praises in your ear that you found yourself experiencing another orgasm the same time that finally he too came with a very audible groan, his thick seed spilling inside you and filling you up. He squeezed your ass harshly, nails digging on them a bit, and then he pulled out after a few more thrusts, eating your pussy from behind right after as if everything wasn’t enough. He groaned at the taste of his cum mixed with your juices; he felt blood rushing to his dick again at the arousing taste of it and the image of your swollen cunt a second ago with his seed pouring down.

“Guk,” you whined, “too… too much,” you said when it was really starting to hurt.

Jeongguk leaned his face away and calmed down, granting soft kisses on your buttcheeks, his kisses travelling upwards until he had you laying on your back again, his mouth back on yours. “I missed fucking you,” he declared explicitly and you had the nerve to laugh, the pit of your stomach tingling in agreeableness.

“Told you it was worth it,” you bothered to joke and Jeongguk chuckled, his breathing ragged but he was composing himself, raising his head and looking at you.

“You’re worth it,” he said.

Your heartbeat escalated—as if it hadn’t been beating fast enough with the events that just transpired—and you placed your palm on his cheeks, stroking it affectionately. “You too. I love you so much, Jeongguk.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling, endearing bunny-like features showcasing themselves; he appeared like a different person from the man who was just drilling your cunt a while ago. “I love you much more, my angel.”

“No, no, that’s unfair. No one gets to love the other more.”

“It’s true though,” he argued. “But I didn’t mean that as a way to compete with what you feel—I’m just saying I love you much more. Much more than I can always say.”

You squinted your eyes at him and laughed. “Okay, Dr. Cheesy.”

“You laughing at me?” He playfully grazed his teeth against your earlobe and you squealed, Jeongguk chuckling.

You smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt; you kissed him repeatedly, wounding your arms around his shoulders, sighing in peace and thanking the universe for setting you up with a man as extraordinary as your husband. He returned the gesture and the both of you continued to consummate your marriage again and again throughout the night, the passion and the intimacy undeniable as what should be expected with newly-weds who were deeply in love with each other.

That prevailed in the next few days to come. You and Jeongguk were going at it like—well, as you liked to describe him as—as bunnies. You two were practically never seen outside the hotel suite except for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, sometimes even skipping going to the buffet area and opted for room service instead. Though when all the oxytocin died down (there were still left, but controlled) and you weren’t taking the other’s clothes off in every chance that either of you could get, you went to the beaches and famous travel spots around the island.

There you had the opportunity to do all the things your busy lives couldn’t let you two do. Both of you went hiking to famous mountains, visited majestic waterfalls and caves—you and Jeongguk even went horseback riding where he showed you some serious skills that you don’t think you’ve had the chance to see before, and generally just headed to all the tourist attractions your itinerary contained. All throughout, you forgot about your life waiting in Seoul for a while, this honeymoon with Jeongguk proving to be an event that you most definitely wanted to recreate in the future if said life allowed you to.

“I don’t know if I’m aroused or disturbed,” Jeongguk whispered to you while you two stared at a sculpture of a man and a woman clearly having sex; the woman was doing some kind of handstand and the man was behind her, supporting her and quite frankly, had his penis inside her too. One of your destinations was the famous Loveland in Jeju Island, where apparently there was really a lot of R rated art involved all over the park just like what you’ve been briefed about.

You snickered. “Maybe we’ve been having sex too much that it’s not as exciting to see.” You tilted your head to the side to get a better look at it. The details amazed you.

“Absolutely not,” he disagreed with a scrunched forehead, gazing at the sculpture too in interest still. “Do you think we can do that position later?”

Your hand flew up to hit his chest at the sudden question, eyes widening. “Jeongguk!”

“What?” He was grinning already though. “Is it wrong for me to ask?”

“Can you not ask it at this second?” You laughed. Your face was already burning at just the thought of Jeongguk having you in that position.

“So, you’re down to do it then?”

“No,” you gave him a look, “and even if I was, I don’t think I can carry myself and be able to do what the lady is doing.”

He nodded as if he was in deep thought. Jeongguk was wearing a familiar button down polo that day, the same orangish yellow Fendi one you had teased him for when he first officially asked you out, and even in the five years that has passed, he still looked unbelievably delicious on it, his tattoos that have gained in number on full display and a new set of sunglasses hooked on the front of his top, tugging it lower than normal. “I mean, we can do it while on the bed, like without you doing the handstand.”

“You really want to try it, don’t you?”

“You mentioned us having sex and now you planted the idea, angel. It’s your fault.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and looped an arm around his. “Let’s get out of this place before you get any more ideas.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a no, sweetheart.”

You still did it however—the revised version of course—that very night as well. You’ve concluded once more that there’s just no way you could ever resist Jeongguk the moment he begins working his charm. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted; you thought that it’s because he always got what he wanted too in the entirety of his existence that he was already a master in memorizing what people wanted to hear or see from him to make them do him the favor. At some point when you were just starting to get friendly with Jeongguk, you constantly teased him for being a spoiled grandson of the Don and he would retaliate playfully that you were a spoiled daughter too by your father. You had said that ‘okay, that makes us even then’, but you still thought that your level of being spoiled was no match to his.

Despite that, Jeongguk never appeared to be arrogant or entitled. He was raised well by his family who were the first to get a taste on how to slowly rise up to power by working diligently and then getting the eventual desired result. From what Jeongguk told you on the intimate nights you have shared before, his father introduced him to their business at a young age and taught him everything necessary to know, his knowledge increasing the same time his age did in due course. He studied overseas for college at the Don’s wishes, returned after he finished and got his degree, and met you officially a few months later when he entered your home with Inhwan. Since then and since you pursued a relationship with him, Jeongguk has never been anything but lovely. It caused you suspicion at first for you didn’t believe that a man your age could be that mature and that understanding, but Jeongguk was simply ‘built different’ that you later on went along with the fact that he was just truly extraordinary.

When the last four days of the honeymoon came in, business related calls were disturbing you and Jeongguk at random hours of the day. You had an associate you worked on a case with who was studying and running errands for you for the meantime, a minor real estate case that was going to have its first hearing in a month, and the topic he usually brought up when he continuously called or messaged you. Jeongguk, on the other hand, seemingly had more pressing issues with JSG; he was the President of the company after all.

You peeked out on the balcony where Jeongguk just answered a call. “Guk? The car we booked to that dining place just arrived. The driver’s already in the lobby.”

He glanced at you. His face was serious and he raised a hand up, a signal to ask you if you would wait. You nodded and pretended to let him mind his own business while you checked your purse if you’ve forgotten anything—you said pretended because even though you were doing all that, you stole subtle glances at his direction, his back facing you and the only view you had the opportunity to see through the glass door. However, his arm movements were still discernible and at the instance he suddenly brought a hand on top of his hair, distressed, head nodding vigorously, you were positive that he just received some kind of bad news.

You no longer hid how you were staring at him; you paused whatever it was that you were being busy with and waited until Jeongguk finished the call. As he did, he didn’t even bother putting his phone back in his pocket; he just raised the hand that was holding it to accompany the other one already on his hair before sitting down on the sun lounger with a motion that came out like he slipped. You didn’t think twice about marching out to talk to him.

“Hey,” you gently touched his back, “who was that? Anything wrong?”

Jeongguk looked up and your worry escalated when you got a glimpse of his tear-filled eyes. “He passed on, ____. Grandpop—he didn’t… he got another stroke and—Pop said he didn’t make it this time.”

“Oh my god—Guk, I’m so sorry.” You automatically engulfed him in an embrace and Jeongguk fully let himself cry in what felt like frustration, his face turning towards your neck where you felt his tears dampen your skin. You whispered words of comfort as he sobbed, rubbed his back and carressed the back of his head; Jeongguk showed you a newfound kind of vulnerability at the knowledge that his grandfather was no longer alive and made it apparent that you were going to be here for him and that everything was going to be okay.

You didn’t know the true impact of it—but the death of Don Jungsoo was definitely the last thing any member of the Jeon Family wanted, which meant unlike what you were murmuring, everything was not going to be okay.

━ CHAPTER V.

The trick with the wedding worked. Seokjin informed Jeongguk before he got in the car to the venue of the reception that there were for sure spies sent from the other prominent Seoul Families to oversee the ceremony. By that time, the associates would have already informed their Caporegimes and the Caporegimes would have already informed the underboss as well who would have relayed the message to their respective Dons. Jeongguk was glad to hear that, thankful that at least their efforts of arranging everything and marrying you quite early on than what both of you preferred didn't go to waste.

For the first week of the honeymoon, at early dawn when he woke up before you would, he’d shared a call with either Seokjin or his father. They included him in all business related transactions and heard his side to forward it with the Don when they discussed it with him. Don Jungsoo only approved or declined any plans they had or prepositions from other people they received, then Hanseo acted his demands out as the active underboss. Don Jungsoo was going to retire soon, the Godfather established it when he was restored to health, and wanted Hanseo and especially Jeongguk to be more concerned with the business now that he was a few steps away from officially handing over the business.

Though upon the Don’s sudden yet still foreseeable death, despite how they’ve been preparing for something as terrible as this to fall to the Jeon Family, Hanseo was still shaken to be deemed as the new Don of the clan and be the head of their syndicate. Even if he saw himself as adequate and intelligent enough for the position, Hanseo knew he wasn’t as great as the late Don Jungsoo to live up to his father’s shoes. Perhaps his son, Jeongguk, was more fit for it than he was ever going to be, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bestow such responsibility unless Jeongguk was given no choice. For now, Hanseo had to do extremely good on his reign and prove to the members that he was deserving to be the Godfather.

Ultimately, Jeongguk took the death of his grandfather more badly than he thought. He was still rational and handled it the way Don Jungsoo would have wanted him to; however deep inside, there was a fire of hatred and anger burning inside of him that he only released in sessions at the gym where he boxed his frustration out, upset that Don Jungsoo’s passing had to happen when he was having the time of his life with you. He didn’t regret the honeymoon or wished that he had done anything differently in the last few weeks—it was just he didn’t understand why an unfortunate incident had to fall upon his Family when he thought things were beginning to go back to the way they were.

Jeongguk remembered how Don Jungsoo didn’t like the plan with the publicity stunt at the wedding when Hanseo informed him. He shook his head profusely, saying then that weddings are intimate ceremonies and should not be mixed with business; he said that he didn’t want his grandson to get married out of the blue just so they can show off his (then) improving health to the other Families.

“I was intending to marry ____ soon anyways, Grandpop,” Jeongguk reasoned. “Why not hit two birds with one stone?”

“You are?” Don Jungsoo mused. “You’re not saying that just to appease me?”

“It’s true,” Seokjin vouched for Jeongguk. “Guk’s been thinking about it even before we were planning this.”

The Don snorted and smiled, the first since a while. “Well, it’s about time. You need a woman like that in your life, Jeongguk. You don’t meet a lot of her kind these days.”

“I agree.” Jeongguk chuckled. “So, we’ll go forth with it, won’t we?”

The Don shrugged. “All I have to do is to not look sickly, don’t I?”

“Which I’m sure you’ll do fine, Pop,” Hanseo assured himself more than he did to Don Jungsoo. “Dr. Hwang said you’re improving. We’re going to plan the wedding and hold it as early as we can too.”

“Alright. Tell Inhwan not to spend a dime on his daughter’s wedding. I’m willing to pay for all the expenses.”

“That includes my share too, right?” Hanseo joked and the Don cracked another smile.

It did go on to be successful as they hoped. The Three Families that stood along them—the Lee Family, Yang Family, and Park Family—got the message that Don Jungsoo was well and managed to attend his grandson’s wedding in a great state. Operations continued to be quiet and the waging tension within the Mafia faltered as no one no longer questioned the health of Don Jungsoo, thus seeing the Jeon Family as credible once again. Of course, it wouldn’t have been too long as well before they all of the sudden hear the revelation that the same healthy man they were told about suffered a stroke while sleeping and no longer woke up.

“Let’s book the next flight back to Seoul,” you said after minutes of just holding Jeongguk in your arms. He was sobbing, his nose running and his head already thumping because of how hard he has been pouring his emotions out.

Jeongguk cried like a kid and he hated it whenever he did. It was not something he had control of though and he was just thankful that it was only you who had the chance to see him that way when he broke down after being called and notified by Hanseo. “Not yet,” Jeongguk replied, “I’ll, I’ll have to… I’ll have to call—”

“I’ll do it,” you finished for him, stroking his hair one last time and standing up to go back inside the room and get your phone.

He held your wrist; he looked a little disoriented to form his thoughts properly and his cheeks were still wet, his eyes glassy from sobbing. “No, ____, it’s best if—”

“I’m going to call my dad and he’ll be in charge of our flight back,” you cut him off again. “Or would you want me to call Seokjin instead?”

He stared at you, puzzled for a millisecond, but he was always under the impression that you already had an idea of what he and the Family truly did. You just didn’t confront him about it or made it too apparent that you knew something that wasn't intended to be known yet. Well, at least, not yet, you didn’t. “That would be better,” he affirmed your last statement. “But you should use my phone. This phone.”

You nodded and got the phone from his grasp before doing as said. Jeongguk was transparent to you early on that he used two phones; he used one for personal matters and the others for business affairs. Your number was on both devices.

Seokjin indeed handled yours and Jeongguk’s safe flight back. As you both arrived at the Jeon Residential Area—the place where the houses of the Don, Hanseo, Seokjin, and yours and Jeongguk’s were already built along with the other vacant ones intended for guests—there were a large number of men waiting for both of your arrival. Seokjin was there by the gate, a phone in his hand, talking to somebody else, though when he spotted the two of you getting out of the car, he rushed to end the call and walked towards Jeongguk, embracing the younger boy tightly with only one arm while he used the other to reach for you as well.

“I’m sorry the honeymoon was cut short,” Seokjin said.

“Jin, don’t be ridiculous, that shouldn’t be something to apologize for,” you answered.

“Grandma’s been crying for hours,” Seokjin said again, this time more to Jeongguk, “you two should go ahead and make your presence known.”

“You should go ahead, angel.” Jeongguk rubbed your back. “I’ll just talk to Jin for a bit.”

You nodded and walked to the front steps of the door. Once you entered and was out of earshot, Jeongguk turned back to his adoptive brother who had a melancholic expression. Seokjin’s eyes were a bit puffy and when he talked earlier, his voice was hoarse, meaning that like Jeongguk, he had been mourning over the death of the Don.

“Where’s Grandpop now?”

“At the mortuary. Your dad’s there with him and Inhwan and some members of his regime. They’ll be bringing him back in an hour or so or whatever how long it takes to get the old man ready. We’ll be holding the wake here in the house and they’re already preparing the space for it, some people are already cleaning it—the garden, that’s where it’ll be, yeah.” Seokjin appeared as disoriented as Jeongguk was in Jeju Island. “You have a cigarette, Guk?” he abruptly asked.

Jeongguk sighed at him. “No. I already quit, remember? I thought you did too.”

“Yeah, but I really need a smoke right now. All of this is making me crazy.” He sighed and glanced at some of the men who were nearby to where they were standing, one of them taking something from inside their jacket to reveal a cigarette box, Seokjin dashing to the guy and getting a stick, placing it between his lips and letting the soldier light it up for him. Returning next to Jeongguk again, he puffed out a smoke with a relieved breath. “Don’t tell my wife about this,” he told him.

Jeongguk grimaced. “I don’t need to. She’d smell it on you immediately. And seriously, Jin, you were doing well on not lighting a single cigarette for over a year.”

“Just one and I promise, I’ll stop,” Seokjin said and began speaking again, his previous sentence not taken seriously by himself. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with all of the Don’s important and political contacts after his funeral, one by one.” Seokjin got straight to the point. It was a time for grieving supposedly, but business doesn’t stop along with everything else when something terrible happens, and so Seokjin wanted to get it out the way as soon as Jeongguk arrived. “They’re going to be talking to Hanseo—I’ll be there too, of course, and so will you—and we’re going to see if they’ll remain affiliated with our Family. It’s best if we establish that early on and be clear where we stand. Without the Don, we’ll surely be losing half of our assets if Hanseo doesn’t convince them that they’ll still be gaining something from us.” He blew out more smoke.

Jeongguk watched it get lost by the windy night. “That’s good. We should keep the business going as it always has been. No need to make it a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, it is a big deal—we just don’t make it look that way to others, don’t make it seem like we’re lost or that we even think that the business is going to be hopeless from now on. It’s common sense and the obvious response but I wanted to reiterate it to let you know.”

“I get it. We can talk about that more when Hanseo gets home with the Don. We’ll discuss it too with Inhwan at the office.” Seokjin finished the cigarette quickly and threw it on the ground, crushing it with his feet. Though living within the Jeon Residential Area and accepted as an official member of the real Jeon family, he never once called the Don ‘Grandpop’ or Hanseo as his ‘Pop’. He always placed a barrier between himself and Jeongguk’s family but strangely cared for them like he was blood-related still. When it came to Jeongguk, he treated him like a real younger brother. “How are you, kid? Before I forget to ask and force you to go follow inside the house.”

Jeongguk chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m fine. I feel like shit. But I’m fine. You?”

“Likewise.” He snorted. “I’m just wishing that we’ll pull through this as smoothly as we can.”

They went inside after the short conversation and Jeongguk’s mood further deflated at the sight of his grandma in absolute tears. His mother, Yeonjin, was comforting the old lady and you were there doing the same, serving her with a warm cup of tea to soothe and calm her with Seokjin’s wife. Seokjin went to the kitchen to grab a mint and Jeongguk approached you four sat on the couch, going beside his grandmother and embracing her. He listened to her stories of distress, of how she loved the Don and has never loved another man in her whole life besides him. She said that though it hurt to have him leave earlier, she was glad that Don Jungsoo had passed in a peaceful death—in his sleep, and not by any means of violence, to which Jeongguk agreed to with a nod.

By 2:07 AM, Jeongguk’s uncles had arrived and they’ve taken his place beside the grieving wife of the Don who still couldn’t sleep until Don Jungsoo’s body and casket was placed at the garden and properly arranged. Jeongguk excused himself after giving his greetings to his uncles and subtly searched the house for you; he last seen you go upstairs where the bedrooms were with Yeonjin, and peeking at each one when he went upstairs to look harder, he saw you at one of the guest rooms, laying on the mattress though he was fast to notice that you had your eyes wide open to assume you were already sleeping.

He entered and purposely made enough noise to have you acknowledge him, and you did with a snap of your head to his direction, your eyes softening the second your gazes met. “Hey,” you said.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” He walked to the side of the bed where you were at. “Our luggages are back at our house, just so you know. We’d have to unpack but we can do that in the morning. The master’s bedroom is already ready though; you can sleep there for the night if you find it uncomfortable here.”

You slowly sat up and leaned back at the headboard. Jeongguk perched close to you and grabbed a hold of your hand on your stomach. “Aren’t you tired?” you questioned.

“I am.” He pressed his mouth together. “But I want to wait until they bring home Grandpop though. You should go to sleep, angel.”

“Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when someone comes and finds you?”

“I think we both know better than to assume I’ll be waking up that easily with a nap.”

You chuckled. “I’ll kick you off the bed then if I have to.”

“I’ll wait with the others,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I haven’t talked to Pop in person. Haven’t seen Grandpop again either. I don’t want to wait too long for that.”

You nodded and fondled with his fingers. “Well, can you at least lay with me? For five minutes?”

Jeongguk chuckled, poking his tongue on his cheek before it was his turn to nod slowly, gesturing for you to move and give space for him. “For just five minutes.”

He laid down and wrapped an arm around your shoulders while you hugged his torso and pressed your cheek against his chest. You heard his fast beating heart, heard each breath he took, and the both of you said nothing for a short time. Jeonggguk ran his thumb up and down your arm and you played with the fabric of his shirt, the silence comforting yet daunting in an odd way for Jeongguk who abruptly thought of your actions back at the suite in Jeju. At that second, he was thinking if he should begin introducing the concept of the business to you—just a snippet of it—a vague description that would give you an answer but a lacking one for the events that would come. He could never explain the whole thing to you, the Cosa Nostra, unless it was the most ideal thing to do anyways; he stuck by their code and even if he didn’t, he didn’t want to stress you with the knowledge of what his Family did.

You managed to fall asleep in his arms and Jeongguk gently moved you to a better position on the bed before he kissed your temple, tucked you in, and left the room to go downstairs. It was 3:39 AM and he was sure that they were already arranging Don Jungsoo’s wake at the garden. His ears caught the engines of vehicles and the slams of the doors, followed by incoherent chatter and clicks of glasses that no doubt were shared by Caporegimes who fled from their territory to visit the Godfather.

“Guk,” Hanseo said when Jeongguk appeared from the staircase, “I’m glad that you’re here.” He was holding a glass of whiskey in another hand, eyes bloodshot and face looking older.

Jeongguk frowned as he walked towards him. “How are you, Pop?”

“We’re on our own now, Guk.” He ignored the question and clasped a hand on Jeongguk’s opposite shoulder. “I’m counting on you the most starting from now on. You got that? We have to keep the business running steady now that Pop’s gone.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighed, “we’ll sort it out.”

“I know, I know, of course, I do.” He drank the entirety of the glass in one gulp. “You’re my underboss now, kid. You’ve always been a strength in the Family—now I need you to divide your regime, your soldatos, to other factions—you’re going to be more hands on in this than you ever were.”

“Alright.” Jeongguk agreed. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. For now, you should stop drinking. You don’t want to get too drunk to entertain the soldatos and the guests that’ll go here. We have to talk too with Seokjin and Inhwan later.”

Hanseo nodded rapidly and to prove that he wasn’t going to drink more, placed the glass down on one of the tables in the living room with a rather loud thud. Jeongguk gave him a look but said nothing and just focused on striding to the garden where indeed the coffin of the Don was now situated. He inhaled deeply and watched the men from the funeral home organize the flowers and other necessary stands; his grandmother was also there, wiping the glass that enclosed Don Jungsoo in the casket that made approaching him harder for Jeongguk. Though when he and his grandma made contact and the old lady beckoned him to come closer like a child, he did and ashe saw him lying there, at peace and groomed in the best possible way, Jeongguk no longer found it hard to accept the reality of his passing, the thought that the Godfather deserved the long rest he had in stored now was enough to make Jeongguk feel better about it.

The wake of the late Don was attended by various personalities. The most controversial being policemen, judges, lawyers, prosecutors, and even politicians. Of course, the Dons of the other Three Families paid their respects as well, personally coming to the Jeon Residential Area and even going to the funeral afterwards when it was held a week after it. During that period, Jeongguk discussed with Hanseo and Seokjin repeatedly, sometimes including Inhwan at the meeting too. They handled everything needed to be addressed about the business; they went with what Seokjin said prior, which was talking with the contacts of Don Jungsoo and ensuring that their affiliation remained with the Jeon Family. Majority of them guaranteed that they’ll be honoring their friendship with the Don even after his death and that it can be counted on that their loyalty will still stand with their clan; the little others left though asked for understanding and some time to think about it for some organizations have also begun negotiating with them.

“It’s the Lee Family,” Hanseo said, sitting on the leather chair inside the office of Don Jungsoo; it felt strange to see him over there instead of his grandfather, Jeongguk thought, “they’re hoarding as much as they can. They’re trying to bring themselves to the top again. They even took the bait of Jang Yeocheol’s casino plans that Don Jungsoo didn’t want to take part in.”

“It’ll bring them more money, that’s why,” Seokjin said. “The casino will be used for narcotic operations. They’ve agreed to finance Yeocheol’s business and even pledged to protect him from the authorities with their legal contacts. It’s a logical route to go. Drugs are the leading commerce now, it’s being introduced in South Korea further; however, it’s the kind of filth Don Jungsoo didn’t want us to go with. He was already aggravated with the strip joints and all that when we caved into prosititution—drugs was the last thing he wanted to have associated with our Family.”

“Yeocheol will certainly want to talk to you again, Pop. He’ll want to restate and propose that we invest in him once more now that you’re the new Don. He’ll be hoping that you won’t have the same mindset as Grandpop and accept his offer this time,” Jeongguk told Hanseo.

“I wouldn’t want to go against one of my father’s last decisions.” Hanseo leaned back on his chair and sighed. “If Yeocheol arranges a meeting, we’ll entertain him, out of respect and courtesy. Ask a few questions too that we didn't get to ask last time for it was Pop leading. But we won’t dive into the business of narcotics, that’s already for sure. Do you have any objections about that, Consigliere?” He nodded at Seokjin.

“I’ll be honest,” Seokjin started off, “if it was Don Jungsoo who was about to get offered with it again, I would have said yes at this instance. Like I mentioned, drugs are the leading commerce these days, and I genuinely think it’d be good for us if we take a shot at it while it’s still slowly booming in the country.”

“But I’m not my father,” Hanseo supplied Seokjin’s reasoning early on and Seokjin nodded.

“You’re not, and we’re still at risk of losing some of our contacts and our legal defenses—one of them is even part of the Supreme Court and two are senior prosecutors. What Yeocheol wanted from us was legal protection, that was his main target, given Don Jungsoo’s connections and his power. So without that, I can only guess that his offer won’t be as grand as the last one. He’ll try to maybe it a little higher so we’ll bite, but the determining factor on how much we will gain from this is how much we will invest in the business still. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that—it’s just that are we going to be comfortable with the fact that the Lee Family is going to gain more from it than we will?”

“I’ll go with you when he asks for another meeting,” Jeongguk said to Hanseo. “I’d like to hear his offers face to face again.”

“What happens when the offer’s good then? Do you think we should go for it?” Hanseo asked him.

Jeongguk shrugged. “I doubt it will be significantly better, or I at least doubt it’ll be better than the Lee’s. We’re going to be second in his priority list with that Family in the picture. But with the question of whether we should go for it or not, I’d like to reckon that we should. Let’s not involve ourselves with the operations though, it will be too risky for us, considering our state at the moment, but perhaps we should focus more on financing and a bit of what we could do for legal protection as an initial contribution to his business. Then we can see where it’ll take us or maybe we’ll just stick to that initial contribution, to honor what Grandpop’s would have wanted.”

Seokjin and Hanseo shared a look; the both of them were thinking of the same thing, Jeongguk had the same rationality, practicality, and leniency as his late grandfather. The way he even enlightened them with what he thought held the same aura as Don Jungsoo. “Okay,” Hanseo showed his approval with a raise of his eyebrows, “it’s time for us to wait for their move then.” He concluded their discussion at that note.

Another week passed and Seokjin received a call from Yeocheol himself, the man asking if he could arrange a meeting with the new Don of the Jeon Family just like what Jeongguk had predicted. Seokjin told him that he will contact him again after he forwards the message to Hanseo and within the next two days, the appointment was made to happen, Hanseo, Seokjin, and Jeongguk present at the private room inside a restaurant that Yeocheol booked for the occasion. There they discussed about the business, what Yeocheol wanted, what the Jeon Family would do and get if they partake in it, and at the end, Hanseo still declined as what Don Jungsoo did—the only difference was that Don Jungsoo was better with his words and better at appeasing the person he’s breaking the news on that the Jeon Family will not meddle with their affairs.

In Hanseo’s case, he didn’t possess that kind of ability, didn’t have a smooth tongue or the charm to win the favor of the opposing party despite his decision, and so when they left the venue, Yeocheol was mad and contacted the Consigliere of the Lee Family. He was going to make Hanseo regret his choice and withdraw it.

━ CHAPTER VI.

RMEC Law Firm was recognized to be one of the best law firms in the state. It garnered clients with high ranks in your society and housed lawyers at the top of their game, including you who was appointed as an associate in the two years you’ve been lending your service to the company. Don Jungsoo asked Seokjin to endorse you to the Chairman after you passed the bar exam and Mr. Kim, the mentioned Chairman, in respect and with the aim to give back to the Don’s generosity for what the latter has done to him before, gladly took you in and played a big part in boosting the early stage of your career by assigning you to their uppermost clients.

You have been so grateful to Don Jungsoo, you expressed your thanks by sending flowers that he liked to his main office and boxes stocke bread that he liked to share with his men, and it was well appreciated by the Don as Jeongguk told you when the both of you saw each other that very day, saying that the Don was glad to see such a gesture from you.

Now, it has been almost two months since Don Jungsoo’s death; things were going back to normal but at the same time, going off to another direction. His family no longer looked disheartened or grieved so openly like they did on the first days of his passing; they were more focused on maintaining the JSG Group’s reputation and business to still be caught up with their own personal stress of losing a loved one. From your husband’s words when you asked if he was truly fine, the Don would have wanted them to move on quickly and get on with life rather than mourn never endingly—so that is what they were doing.

Three knocks on the door to your office made you look up from the papers you were reading and when you did, your gaze fell on Jeongguk who had a hand on the handle and a handsome smile on his features. You returned the smile and marked the last page you were scanning before standing up to meet him halfway.

“You didn’t say you were going to visit,” you said with a chuckle, Jeongguk placing a paper bag on the long table you had in your space before stretching his arms out.

“If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He embraced you and kissed you swiftly on the lips.

“Still, a warning would have been nice.”

Another kiss and he leaned away after, you instinctively glanced at the glass windows to check if anyone was there snooping. You had learned it the hard way when a couple of associates saw Jeongguk burying his head on your neck in mid-make out session and biting along your clavicle when he visited you in the past; that act of his became a hot topic for a solid month—how the extremely attractive and rich fiancé then of ____ was close to eating her alive in her office.

However, that wasn’t the reason why you were cautious at the moment. Aside from the teasing that you received from your co-workers when they heard the rather spicy incident, there were also questions that arose that time that made you uncomfortable and a little worried for they were clearly said with malicious intent about Jeongguk’s family.

“Is it true that he’s the grandson of the mobster?” a female junior associate of the firm asked you, bumping elbows with you while all of you waited for the President to arrive at the conference room. It was the perfect moment to bring such a topic up as all of the lawyers were there to curiously listen.

“He’s probably a part of it too.” Another one, a male and a few years older, reckoned with a chuckle. “It’s a family business when it comes to those things.”

They looked at you to wait for an answer but you only pressed your mouth together, an action that meant you were clearly going to keep your lips sealed and not give them the satisfaction of biting back. You were still considered a rookie within the respected lawyers sitting with you at the long table and therefore didn’t want to cause any fuss on your part.

“His family runs JSG Group, a shareholder of this law firm,” Namjoon, the son of the Chairman who also worked as an attorney in the firm, piped in nonchalantly in behalf of you and you turned your eyes on him along with the others there, “and I don’t think it’s good to conspire and gossip against a member of a major shareholder, Mr. Oh.”

“We’re not conspiring, Namjoon. We’re just joking and bantering here. Aren’t we, ____? Mobsters aren’t a thing now anyways. This isn’t the 1950s. It’s not like the Mafia is still here.” The former man grinned at you as if you were good friends.

You didn’t answer again; you just kept on staring at him with a blank face until he grew disturbed and was looking at the woman earlier for a supporting comment. She didn’t say anything too though, and the two of them settled uncomfortably on their seats and feigned innocence as they brought another topic to the table.

You smiled at Namjoon in thanks and he gave you a small nod, resuming his skimming on the folder in front of him. He was untouchable because of his position and influence in the company; you were glad that he was your senior when you were only interning in the firm.

In regards to what your two co-workers mentioned about Jeongguk’s family business, you decided not to concern yourself with it further by searching for answers. They didn’t try poking you around with their ill-natured remarks after the incident at the conference room; they left you alone pretty much the following weeks, avoiding you like the plague but you couldn’t care less to wonder why their approach to you drastically shifted. Deep down though, you were assuming that it had something to do with their stunt reaching the Jeon Family, particularly Jeongguk who might have heard what happened through Namjoon as they were friends themselves.

You already had an idea that the reason why Don Jungsoo was so respected and acclaimed was because of something related to that kind of occupation or involvement with affairs that weren’t exactly clean business; it explained why their family a lot of enemies, why a lot feared them, why majority sought for the day that Don Jungsoo’s empire would fall. That’s why you kept a safe distance from it all as well—because you didn’t know how you would react when you do confront Jeongguk about it and he verifies your theories. Just like what’s been happening since the late Don’s death; you were aware that something was going on within the business due to Jeongguk’s frequent bad moods and his late night departures. He has been busy for the past weeks and has been stuck with his father or Seokjin most of the time too—you noticed and acknowledged all of that but didn’t say a word about it. You’ve been in this kind of phase with your dad, wherein you wondered and got worried all the time, so you had a clue or two on how to live with it with forced ease and ignorance.

Jeongguk followed your glances at the windows and smirked. “Paranoid that someone will catch us again?”

You went back to him and snorted. “You really know how to read my mind.” You proceeded on walking to the paper bag where there were small boxes of take-out from your favorite dining place. “What’s with the surprise visit though?”

“Can’t a husband surprise his wife at work?” He snatched another kiss, on your cheek instead, and helped you in unpacking.

You gave him a look of teasing doubt, causing him to chuckle. Jeongguk was always sweet and loving, but he wasn’t one to think of surprises or gestures of affection like this for you to believe him.

“What’s with that look?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“Oh, you know what this look means, sweetheart.”

He rolled his eyes, surrendering then. “Fine. I know I’ve been absent, alright?” he explained. “I just wanna make it up to you.”

You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, Guk, but you do know that I understand that things have been busy right? You don’t have to force yourself to do these things just because of guilt.”

“They’re not just because of guilt, silly. I’ve been missing you too. I came here because I wanted to see you.”

Your smile widened to a grin. “So, does that mean you’ll be joining me here? You’ll eat this lunch with me?” You were hopeful now but he frowned right away. He has been absent a lot. You’ve spent many nights being able to fall asleep on the bed and not have him beside you.

“Uh, not now,” he sighed as he gave you the direct answer, “later though, I promise. I’ll join you for dinner—I’ll even cook for dinner and then you can have me all night.”

“Is that for real this time? You won’t run away while I’m taking your pants off because someone called?” You reminded him of what happened the other day when you two were heading to business and then he abruptly left you to take care of matters concerning the company.

“Yes, I won’t bail on you tonight.” He moved behind you, hugging you from there and encircling his arms around your waist. “Pop’s heading somewhere too and Seokjin has the same plans as I do, which is to obviously woo the wife. So, I swear, you’ll have me as much as you want, angel.”

You laughed, swiftly kissing his exposed cheek as he laid his chin on your shoulder. “Good. Also, now that you mentioned it, I think Dad’s going to be with Pop. I invited him for dinner first since he kept on saying he was feeling lonely with me not always in the house anymore but then he said he had plans tonight.”

“Dad has been guilt tripping me about that too.” Jeongguk chuckled. “He said that since I took his daughter away, he’s starting to know more about the rooms of the villa. Has he told you that he’s turning one of the guest rooms to a home bar?”

“Wow. He decides to do that the second I move out, huh?”

“It’s a fun concept. Just wish he had done it too when I had more reasons to go there.”

You snorted and Jeongguk grinned.

As you finished placing the take-out on the table and opening all the containers, Jeongguk made it known again that he wouldn’t be able to stay long and that he had to go; he had a meeting with a potential investor, he said, though he added as well that your dinners plan with him later will still go according to plan like he promised. You nodded and he gave you a long kiss on the mouth and on the forehead as an apology for going out so soon before leaving you alone to eat the delicious lunch he bought for you, which didn’t seem as appetizing as it usually was without Jeongguk to share it with.

At 7:31 PM, you were driven home to the Jeon Residential Area by your chauffeur. Arriving at the huge gate that secured the premises, you took note of the seemingly hundreds of men hired to guard the whole sector while the vehicle you were riding passed through. They doubled the security four days ago for a reason you didn’t know—and you didn’t ask, just mentioned it casually one time as a way of saying that you found it still concerning despite your indifference; Jeongguk assured you that it was nothing to worry about and it was just—as he always says—a precaution.

You thanked your driver as he parked in front of your home with your husband and bid your good night, hopping out and walking towards the front door. The car only left when you had closed the door and were taking your shoes off, the smell of familiar home cooked food blessing your nostrils that you hurriedly went to the kitchen to see what it was. You were definitely surprised to see Jeongguk behind the stove with an apron on the moment you stepped in, and you remembered a part of his promise where he claimed he was going to cook dinner for the two of you tonight.

“You really are cooking,” you said with an amused huff.

He lifted his gaze up and placed his spoon down. “Correction, I cooked. Past tense. I’m already done. You’re right in time.”

“Is it any good?” you teased; you marched forward to give him a kiss of greeting on the lips which he happily obliged to.

“Of course, it is. You insult me, angel.”

“I was kidding.” You swayed your hip towards his to set him off balance.

He chuckled and pinched your side as a payback that you whined at before he nodded to the dining table and turned off the stove. “Let’s set up the table and eat.”

“Okay.”

Among the other things that Jeongguk hasn’t been doing because of the past busy month was cooking, and it was because of that reason too why having dinner with the food he just cooked made the night a special one compared to the others in a while. He truly cooked better than you and was more useful in the kitchen. You were sure of that because unlike you, he grew up with a mother and a grandmother who taught him all the basics and guided him with the recipes he knew of today. You, on the other hand, mostly relied on YouTube video tutorials and did a lot of trials and errors on your own. It wasn’t until you and Jeongguk were getting serious that you began learning from Yeonjin to be a better cook yourself.

“What do we have for dessert?” you asked after swallowing your last spoonful of rice. What he prepared was delicious and fulfilling that you’ve been going on about how good it was while you ate, your husband’s ears reddening at the endless compliments. Not one to draw attention to himself for a long time though when it came to you, he’d ask you more about your day and open random subjects to get out of the limelight.

Jeongguk glanced at you; he still wasn’t done eating. “Each other.”

You kicked him under the table and he almost choked, startled. “You’re ruining my mood for good food, sweetheart.”

“Am I not good food?”

“You’re not even food.”

“Okay, I’ll rephrase that—am I not good to eat?”

You snickered and continued staring at him, the grin on your face remaining. He really was the most ridiculous man you have ever met sometimes. It was one of the qualities you loved most about him too though.

“There’s ice cream on the fridge,” he added shortly with a laugh and you thanked him immediately, standing up to get yourselves some mugs so you can start scooping for the both of you. He was in the middle of drinking water when the doorbell rang multiple times, sort of like in a frenzy, and he placed the glass down to attend to it. “I’ll get that.”

You watched him leave his chair and you went back to your quest. It was probably Seokjin who was ringing the doorbell at this time of the night, you thought, as he was the only one present in the Jeon Residential Area like you and Jeongguk were. This kind of circumstance happened frequently anyways that you didn’t even bat an eye as the sound of the doorbell echoed inside the house, you just assumed that it was his brother who wanted to talk to him urgently about god knows what. Though you can’t lie and say that you didn’t find the frantic doorbell ringing didn’t put you off guard even a little bit.

You were glad actually to have someone as close as Seokjin within the compound. It enabled impromptu lunch double dates with his wife who you were getting close with since you got engaged to Jeongguk. She was a beautiful and nice lady, only three years older than you were; she worked as a preschool teacher in a nearby school, which you praised her for because you don’t think you’d have the same exact patience as her when it came to kids to tolerate a job like hers.

“That son of a bitch!”

The ice cream scooper you held fell on the sink where you were washing it because of Jeongguk’s sudden booming voice and shout of profanity. You froze for exactly two seconds, time moving slowly, your heartbeat quickening, and with the wariness that was beginning to erupt in your system because of what you heard, you headed to the hallway where the front door was to see what the commotion was all about.

There you saw Seokjin hissing at Jeongguk, his hands firmly gripping his shoulders, his words inaudible and incoherent from the distance between you and the two of them; as you made your presence known, Seokjin’s eyes flickered to you and his eyes softened for a quick second, a look of downcast falling on his features.

“Hey, Jin,” you started it off casually, your voice unconsciously quivering at the nerves, “I thought you were off to woo the wife?”

Seokjin stared at you in a manner that you didn’t like. It screamed pity and guilt and sadness and the next thing you know, he was turning away from you in frustration, his hands on his hips as he faced the other side of the front door that was still open. You snapped your gaze to Jeongguk then and he was approaching you, his eyes glassy and stern; in each step he took, your heart dropped lower and lower, the uncertainty and the possibilities of what might have happened supplying frightening thoughts in your mind. It all came to a stop when Jeongguk carefully held both of your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your skin gently as if you were this fragile being.

“Guk,” you gritted your teeth, the anxiety was bubbling up too fast for you to handle; you’ve just been enjoying dinner with him, what have possibly gone wrong for the mood to shift like this? “what is it? Is everything alright?”

“Angel, listen hard, okay? I don’t want to repeat it again,” he said in almost like a hushed mumble. He knitted his eyebrows together, his tears piling up further—were they in sadness or anger? You weren’t so sure yet. “Pop and Dad got shot. We don’t have a definite lead on who might have caused it and now they’re in the hospital. But ____, Dad… your father… he didn’t—they couldn’t do anything anymore.”

Your heart was sent crashing down, you even think that you heard them shatter to pieces. His words entered your ears effectively but they weren’t processing well. You felt sick all of the sudden and your head was starting to hurt at this overwhelming want to sob, your eyes welling up. “What?”

Jeongguk gulped, his palms moving from your cheeks to your hair in an attempt to caress you in comfort. “He didn’t make it, angel. When they arrived at the scene, there was no pulse.”

“What? That can’t be true.”

“They did everything they could.”

“No,” you held on to his wrists, pushing him back, but he was strong and so he stayed holding you, “no, no, no, Guk—what? He can’t be—that’s not possible—it can’t be. I was just talking to him earlier—I even sent him a text while I was being driven home—” you were starting to hyperventilate, your tears running down. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest; you were thrashing and you were sobbing uncontrollably, the reality in which your father was dead was sinking in and causing your temples to ache further— “no, he can’t be—whoever told you that—it’s bullshit!” You looked up at Jeongguk, the way you looked at him was pleading, in defeat; your gaze was telling him that you wanted him to tell you the opposite, you wanted him to assure you that Inhwan was still alive. “Tell Seokjin—whoever it was that said, that said that—that said that Dad is dead—is a liar!”

He only stared at you in return, his own tears falling on his face. Inhwan was a prominent figure in his life as well, and to say that he was devastated and angry by the news would be an understatement. The sight of hum crying with you made you sob harder, his expression of loss and regret; it made your knees weak and your surroundings ringing deafeningly that caused Jeongguk to carry you in his arms better—it was getting impossible to breathe then and your vision was turning crucially blurry.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispered, embracing you tight, letting you sob hard on his chest, “I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”

Before you could even think of replying, to demand an answer from him why he was apologizing, you passed out in shock of the overwhelming events, and Jeongguk caught you quickly, shouting at Seokjin who rushed back inside to get you. Together they carried you to the living room sofa, Jeongguk ordering Seokjin to get a glass of water while Jeongguk called Yeonjin if she could come to your household and take care of you. His mother agreed, already aware of the unfortunate event, and after they said their assuring words to each other, Jeongguk hung up and waited until you woke up.

As you did, your eyes blinking and brimming with tears once more, he kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “I’m going to take care of this,” he said in a promise. You were coming back to your senses and you were remembering what your father suffered from. “I’ll handle this. I’ll find out who did it and, and—I’ll kill the bastard myself.”

You were still groggy and disoriented but you understood his statement perfectly. You gazed at your husband and saw now a new guise being shown on his face; it was familiar and foreign all at the same time. You’ve seen him aggravated before, have seen him being so frustrated when things didn’t go his way—but this right here… this dangerous and angry bearing he had, it was a totally different expression that you haven’t had the chance to see in the past decade of knowing him. It scared you and it urged you to think about Jeongguk’s well-being more than the horrible news earlier for a split second. “Jeongguk…” you whimpered.

“I’ll kill him.” His jaw was clenched. “I’ll make him regret what he did, angel. I promise.”

“Guk…” you breathed out and tugged on his forearm. He looked at your grip and allowed you to pull him towards you, to wrap your arms around his neck to cry some more. He sighed against your neck, whispered his apologies over and over again though with no explanations why, and when you decided to finally respond to what he was telling you, Jeongguk stiffened in surprise, not expecting that you would request such a thing, especially at your state, but who was he to judge and deprive you of the opportunity? So, nodding and kissing your cheek, he agreed.

You just told him you wanted to kill the man who did the shooting incident that led to your father’s death yourself, and indeed that was going to be what Jeongguk would enable you to do.

━ CHAPTER VII.

The bastard’s name was Lim Sehyung, a man who was an associate for the Lee Family. He was known to be precise and attentive to what is being asked of him by the Caporegime he was under, and for his latest assignment, he was to shoot the Don of the Jeon Family as a threat from the Lee clan that meant Yeocheol, who was under their wing, meant serious business.

To do that successfully, he followed the pattern of Hanseo’s whereabouts, he bribed a dishonest Mafioso within the Jeon clan, and offered the person more money if he gave the information that Sehyung needed. In only two weeks after his Caporegime told him of what he needed to do, he executed and met the unsuspecting Don Hanseo while he was leaving a restaurant with his Caporegime, Inhwan. He shot the Boss three times, all in the parts that wouldn’t be fatal because his death was not what the Lee Family wanted yet, but he wasn’t as merciful to Inhwan who he showered with bullets and who fiercely fought back, shooting even the latter’s forehead for a safety measure.

Within the two weeks after he committed the crime as well, the same Mafioso he bribed would be forced to reveal Sehyung’s identity as the soldato of the Lee clan who did such a terrible act—the said mafioso was beaten until he spilled the beans when Seokjin received the tip that he was was the one who sent the details of Hanseo’s frequent whereabouts to Sehyung, and when he did confirm that he was the one who betrayed his Family and conspired with Sehyung, in Jeongguk’s rage, he personally sliced the mafioso’s tongue off, asking Yoongi, who was the reserve Caporegime of Inhwan’s faction and was the acting one upon his captain’s death, to send the piece of muscle to Sehyung as a warning that they were aware of his doings and that he would be next. As Yoongi agreed and got to business, Jeongguk shot the mafioso with one bullet to his brain.

That was one of the few times that Jeongguk’s anger got the best of him. Because of the Lee Family’s schemes, his father was in the hospital trying to recover from his bullet wounds and his wife, you, just lost her father; to top that all of, he was now hailed as Don Jeon, the head of their syndicate with Hanseo’s bad condition and his uncle who didn’t have the wits to lead willingly giving the title to him. Jeongguk accepted the responsibility right away as soon as Seokjin informed him of the shooting, knowing that it was him who was supposed to help his late grandfather’s empire rise up again, and even that was a hard task on its own, what he found harder was breaking the news to you that night when your dad was murdered.

Inhwan was cremated after you visited his body at the morgue. Jeongguk was there with you when you did, and he took note of how you only hugged and sobbed against the lifeless body of Inhwan; you didn’t pull the sheet away from his face to look at him for one last time. When Jeongguk asked you about it as gently as he could, you told him that you didn’t want your last memory of your father to be of an unrecognizable dead man’s face who was killed without mercy.

Your answer made Jeongguk angry again though he had more control of his temper by that time and knew he had to be logical now in the steps he would be taking in the future. Amidst all the noise and the tabloids spreading more dirt about the Jeon Family because of Hanseo’s misfortune however, Jeongguk never heard one question from you about it or at least an answer why your father was involved with the mess and had received the most lethal blow. He knew then that you knew of what he did and what his Family was capable of; he guessed that he should have known anyways because of what he said on the couch the night the two men were shot and what you said in response to his proposal.

Seokjin helped you with the legalities regarding the winery. He was the one who pulled the strings and transferred all the entities to your name. It wasn’t a hard task and a big deal since you were married to the Chairman—Jeongguk was now the acting Chairman as well—so, just like that, you were appointed as the new CEO to lead the wine company.

“Guk,” you murmured to him before sleeping, two days before you would meet the man who arranged the demise of Inhwan, “promise me you’ll always be safe.”

He exhaled harshly, pressing his mouth on the corner of your lips. “I promise, angel.” It was a white lie. In the business, he could never be safe, but he would try to do better from that on just for you.

“You’re the only one I have now.” You told him that in a showcase of vulnerability and your voice trembled as you did. “I can’t afford to lose you too.”

“You won’t.” He ran his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep for it was only then he’s able to leave you to the care of his mother. “I’ll always be here. I won’t go anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You cracked a smile, though a tear also fell out of your eye in that instance and he held you in his arms again until you were truly asleep. He left you in his mother’s safe keeping, hugged and assured his mother too that everything was going to be fine, and left that night to go to his grandfather’s house where the main office for operations was still organized and discussed with his Consigliere, Seokjin.

There they devised a plan that would be soon the prominent factor of why a war between the Four Mafia Families of Seoul would commence, the infamous bloodshed making it to national television as men were found dead on the streets and institutions were burned to the ground—and alongside that plan was the objective of being the winning syndicate out of the four, the strongest Family to be glorified and recognized, a ploy that would also be successful in months to come thanks to the combined ruthlessness of Jeongguk for their enemies and Seokjin’s intelligence that contributed to their excellent strategies.

His prime concern for now was having Sehyung pay for what he did to Hanseo and to Inhwan. On early Monday morning, Jeongguk had the solution for that problem as Yoongi called him and informed that they had taken Sehyung into captivity. He was pleased and impressed that Inhwan’s reserve Caporegime was truly competent to do the job right; he told Yoongi that he would receive a great sum of money for his adequacy and relayed to him all the details on where to bring Sehyung and what to do with him for the meanwhile.

“You think ____ can do it?” Seokjin asked him a day before Sehyung’s murder. They were lounging in the office, at their grandfather’s den, having just finidhed talking to some men over the phone to carry out their plans.

“Do what?”

“Kill someone.”

“I don’t know.” Jeongguk shrugged and brought his glass of whiskey to his lips; despite his nonchalance, he was greatly worried about you. “____’s capable of anything as long as she puts her mind to it.”

“Yeah, but killing someone, Guk. That’s a whole different story and you know it.”

“I won’t force it on her. I’m just giving her what she wants—if she decides not to do it, I’ll gladly finish the job.”

“You sure she wants that? She wasn’t just acting out of her emotions that night?”

“I asked her a couple more times after that night and believe me, she’s… she really wants to do it.”

Seokjin nodded in understanding and Jeongguk, who knew where his brother was coming from, made sure you were still 100% on board with your idea on the day he was going to bring you to the warehouse where Sehyung was already beaten like a pulp, like the soldato he trusted and conspired with, already on the brink of death and the only thing keeping him from hell was the bullet you were going to shoot.

Jeongguk knew you weren’t one to be squeamish easily, but if you were to see someone being beaten and kicked over and over, pieces of their flesh flying everywhere, he wasn’t so sure if that was still going to be the case; that’s why he opted not to let you watch the bastard get beaten in front of your eyes.

“You sure you want to do this?” Jeongguk questioned as you both got out of the vehicle. The warehouse you were walking on was a favorite torture place by the Jeon Family; it was only natural that Sehyung was going to be executed here. “I’m giving you an out right now. I’ll send you home with Seokjin and I’ll do it.”

“No.” Your expression was serious but your tone was uncertain. “I need to do this.”

“You don’t need to do anything. If you’re doing this because you think Inhwan would have wanted it for you—”

“Why else would he have taught me how to use the gun?”

“For self-protection,” he replied coolly.

You glanced at him, your eyes wary and yet determined, and he held out his hand. You sighed, taking it, and he led you to the doors where a couple of his men were there along with Seokjin, Yoongi, and of course, Sehyung who was tied in a chair. Stepping past the entrance, he caught a clearer sight of the bastard’s face and saw that it was almost indescribable by how much they’ve assaulted it; from the way your hold tightens on his hand, Jeongguk knows you were seeing it too.

“You sure you want to do this?” It was Seokjin who asked you that again while he approached you two, a gun ready in his hand. “Have you ever held one of these things before, princess?” He teased you.

“What do you take me for, Jin?” You had the nerve to chuckle.

“I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing,” Seokjin said, handing the gun not to you at first, but to Jeongguk. “Can’t turn back time once it’s been done.”

“He’s right,” Jeongguk agreed. “One last time, angel. You can back out now and I’ll do it.”

“I want to do it.” You gritted your teeth together. “I thought you were going to let me do it?” You were staring at Jeongguk with a hard gaze.

He returned your stare; he was analyzing every feature on your face, trying to detect anything that would give off your reluctance. Seeing none, only your frustration, your glassy eyes, and your pressed lips, he picked your wrist up and placed the grip of the gun on your palm. “Safety lock is still on. Do as you like then.”

You huffed out a breath and strode forward to where Sehyung was situated. Jeongguk followed but stopped at a distance to give you your space, Seokjin following beside him and halting at the same time, copying his movements. Together they watched you stand a few centimeters away from the man who shot your father, your arms raising and the gun you’re holding being pointed at Sehyung immediately.

Sehyung sat there immobile. His eyes were opened but you could barely see that they were because of how swollen it appeared. His whole face was a bloody mess and so was his body, streaks of blood shown on his clothes and some still pouring from cuts on his skin. As he noticed your presence before him, he lifted his head up, smiled mockingly, scoffed—and then with every last bit of strength he had, he spat blood beneath your feet and chuckled.

It was in that second, when Jeongguk thought you were finally brave enough to pull the trigger as soon as possible, that your hands began shaking, the breath you let out quivering as if you were cold. It was the least of what he was expecting from you—he reckoned that you would have shot the man at exactly the instance a droplet of blood landed on your shoe in irritation of what Sehyung still had the guts to do—but it made you react the opposite, made you second guess your actions and hesitate.

“Whaing ait yor ating fore?” Sehyung’s speech was gibberish as he taunted you, a large number of his teeth no longer in his mouth and his consciousness was fading out slowly. “Kill me, you bitch!”

Jeongguk gazed at you from behind, waiting like the rest, his fist was formed beside him in anger of what Sehyung uttered but he controlled himself to give you your chance—to give you what you asked him to. Everyone present anticipated your next move, to see the wife of the Don commit the same grave sin they have to be a made man. However, when the sound of your scared whimper entered his ears instead of the fire of a gun, when he saw your composed stance loosening and your feet staggering back because of the intimidation of your father’s killer, Jeongguk dashed forward automatically, threw the promise he made to let you shoot the man far off his mind at that instance, and positioned himself behind you, one of his hands on your shoulder and one on both of your hands that were holding the weapon.

You had all the nerve and the determination in the world for a lot of things; you studied law, you handled pezzonovantes as clients, you managed to be with Jeongguk even on the days you knew there was serious danger lurking around him and his family—but out of all the things you’ve been brave for, you certainly couldn’t do it for this one, and Jeongguk didn’t want you to go forth with something you obviously weren’t ready to do. He realized then at your reluctance and frightened state that he didn’t want you to get blood on your hands, to be responsible for another person’s death. You were one of the few glorious things in his life, the guardian on his shoulder that reminded him of the goodness still in this world, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of what you thought you wanted to do.

Ever so gently, he took the gun from your grasp and moved his palm from your shoulder to your eyes, covering them, using it to turn you around until he pulled you to his chest. There you sobbed, latched onto his shirt, and whispered apologies for not being able to get on with but Jeongguk didn’t mind them, he was focusing on holding the gun properly with one hand to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong, the best he could do was just shush you in comfort.

“It’s okay, angel,” he mumbled, his hand on your eyes moving to the back of your hair, caressing it while he continued to shush you like a baby. “I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a kiss on your temple.

As the last syllable flowed from his mouth, he didn’t prolong it any longer and shot Sehyung twice—one on the head for what he did to Inhwan and the other on the mouth for the foul name he called you. You flinched in his arms at the booming sound, much more because of the sudden drop of Sehyung’s chair backward at the force of the bullet lunging in his brain, and Jeongguk calmly handed the gun to Yoongi who was waiting by the side to get it from him.

At the same time Jeongguk shot Sehyung, a soldato of the Jeon Family shot the underboss of the Lee clan while he was exiting the golf he frequented in at another location, and while that was taking place, another also gave Jang Yeocheol the taste of his own medicine under Seokjin’s orders for planning such treachery to the Jeon Family. Those murders would erupt the war between the Four Families of Seoul and would force Jeongguk to urge his Family (and all his loved ones) to go to the mattresses with him to protect themselves from the awaiting bloodshed from the rivalring organizations.

“It’s done,” he said.

You exhaled, nodding, and instead of being repulsed for witnessing Jeongguk murder a man in front of you like he abruptly feared as the bullet went through Sehyung’s forehead, the thought occurring to him that he has shown his worst side to the woman he loved, you embraced him tight and took heavy breaths to calm yourself. It was then that Jeongguk vowed to himself that he will never let you see him kill or harm another man ever again.

He was positive now that you were absolutely certain of what he could do, what his Family was capable of, and how much power they truly possessed. For the months to come, he would have to be more transparent to you than he has ever been before to keep you safe and to assure you that he too was going to be safe. The War of the Four Families was going to be the reason why you would be the first lady to join the Mafia in the Jeon Family, joining hands with Jeongguk and Seokjin as the three of you bring your clan back to the summit.

“Thank you,” you murmured and he looked down at you, strange to hear your gratitude considering what he did to obtain it. He was still expecting you to run away or to at least stare at him with disgust. The only thing you did was keep him closer to you, not wanting to let go.

He smiled and kissed your hair. Jeongguk was going to look after you until his very last moment on earth, both for his sake and for the sake of your late father.

“Anything for you, my angel.”

THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

tagging: @mercurygguk @fan-ati--c @moonchild1 @unicornbabylover @shameless-army @1-800-seo @fancystrawberrynerd @dreamamubarak (striked means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag them !)

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: TBA

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

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[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Fake Love Chapter 37

No warnings, thank you to all that continue reading this story. Sorry for grammatical errors, I didn't have time to edit.

Masterlist

After Jungkook woke up, the doctors explained to him what have happened, also they informed him that he had a grave injury on his column, which prevented him from walking, the doctors explained that he will need several surgeries and maybe years of therapy for him to walk again, but then again that outcome was not hundred percent promised.

Needless to say he was devastated by this, he just lost two years of his life, and the maybe the ability to walk forever. Fortunately Jin was finally able to locate Namjoon and Sana, who were able to communicate with Taehyung, the three of them immediately fly over to America to meet them.

"I can't beileve you are alive," Namjoon hugged his dear friend.

"Why you didn't contact me sooner?" Namjoon asked Jin

"I tried, but you guys disappeared from the earth, I couldn't find, also I was truing to stay out of the grid, in case someone was looking for us," Jin explained.

"We all thought you were dead," Sana said.

"YN?" Jungkook asked.

Everyone went silent. No one knew who and how should tell him.

"YN...suffer so much after they told her you died..." Taehyung was the one who spoke.

"Where is she now?" Jungkook asked, he felt something was wrong.

"She...she and Nabi were in danger, people were after her for the money and the business you left for them, they needed protection..." Namjoon explained, but was cut off the Taehyung who scoffed.

"Please! That's was just an excuse for Yoongi to get into her life again like a fucking disease!" Taehyung exclaimed

"Tae..." Sana shook her head

"Yoongi?" Jungkook questioned.

"He arrived at the house the day of your funeral with his son, promising to protect her and Nabi, now that he is the boss of the Myoui family, but all that was an excuse to be close to her, he took her to Japan away from everybody, creating their own little family with Yuto and Nabi, and now they are getting married," Taehyung told him.

Everyone waited for Jungkook to explode and get angry, but it didn't happened he just stay there silent looking down at his legs.

"We tried to communicate with her, but we couldn't, Taehyung tried to get to her but my aunt didn't let him, she denied him her phone number and address, and is almost impossible to get to Yoongi," Sana spoke.

"As if he would let this news get to her ears, by now he probably suspects something is going on," Taehyung crossed her arms.

"But you know what I won't let him get away with it, I will go to Japan and got through the security, I don't care, but I will make sure YN knows about Jungkook maybe you..." Taehyungs planning moment was interrupted by Jungkook.

"No..." he said. Everyone turned to look at him.

"What?" Taehyung asked in disbelief.

"Let her marry him, if she is doing it is because she must love him now," Jungkook said.

"She loves you Jungkook," Sana assured him

"Maybe that was before, her feelings must have changed..." Jungkook continued

"You don't know that...Yoongi took advantage of her pain, and desperation to keep her daughter safe, he didn't even let her mourn you," Taehyung tried to put on some sense into Jungkook.

"And so what?! Look at me! I can't walk, I might stay like this all my life, what kind of life will I offer her? How could I protect her? Will she be stuck forever taking care of me?" Jungkook exclaimed, tears filled his eyes.

"The doctors said there is a chance..." Jin said.

"And what if doesn't work? Besides it will take years for me to recover..." Jungkook continued

"Maybe she will want to stay by your side, she loves you Jungkook" Sana said.

"I won't do this to her, let her be happy, I don't want her to stay by my side out of obligation or pitty" Jungkook said.

"And what about Nabi? Your daughter, will you abandon her? Give up on her too? You know she knows your face? She knows you are her father," Taehyung asked, desperately trying to bring back the strong Jungkook he met. At the mention of his daughter, Jungkook looked up, with a shine in his dark eyes. The memory of his little girl coming back to him.

"Of course not...I will go back for her, but when I am strong enough to fight, walking or not I will go back for Nabi, but let YN be happy with Yoongi, let her marry him," Jungkook said.

After that no one tried to change his mind, Namjoon didn't speak the whole time cause he knew his friend, and right now Jungkook was lost, depressed maybe, and also it was not a good time to let everyone know Jungkook was alive, they needed to be strategic. However they all promised to keep a secret the fact that Jungkook was alive. Taehyung was not happy about it but still he promised, and also planned to be close to YN.

YN and Yonngi got married three months later after his proposal, the ceremony took place in Korea, of course her mother, and Taehyung were there, as well as Sana and Namjoon.

YN was nervous, as she look at herself in the mirror.

"Are you happy?" Her mother asked.

She thought about it.

"Yes, Yoongi is a good man, he loves me and loves Nabi," she replied.

Her mother smiled as she continued to fix her veil.

YN walked down the ailse and she couldn't stop herself from thinking of Jungkook, she loved Yoongi but her for Jungkook was passionate, was beautiful, she will never love someone like she loved him. She shook her head and focus on the present day, she wanted to give the best she had to Yoongi, he deserved her efforts to make him happy.

Yoongi looked so beautiful in his black suit, his face light up at the sight of YN walking towards him on her white dress, it was like a dream come true for him, he always dreamed of this moment.

"Does Jungkook know is today?" Taehyung whispered to Namjoon

"Yes," Namjoon simply reply

"And? He is still not doing a move?" Taehyung asked.

"No...keep your voice down, there are eyes watching us," Namjoon said.

All of Yoongi's allies and businesses partners were in the wedding, happy to see that he was still in control of Jeons widow and money.

Jin and Jungkook kept hidden in America as Jungkook slowly recovered from the surgeries and started his therapy. Namjoon tried to keep them informed about everything regarding the business ans well as Taehyung who kept Jungkook informed about Nabi, and her whereabouts, he often send him pictures of her, which gave Jungkook the strength to keep going and try to have a positive mindset, he wanted to reunite with his daughter soon.

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

The Moon Knows Our Secrets (2) - Final

Exes to Lovers!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!OC | Soulmate!AU 

genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers, vampire/werewolf hybrid (emphasis on werewolf), soulmates, forced proximity

rating: explicit

description: He doesn’t remember loving you. How could he, when you’re the one who erased his memories? You run into him a year later at a wedding. The year after that he’s reported missing and you go off to find him. Then you wonder: did he ever forget you?

word count: 17.7k

warnings (SPOILERS!!!): tension, resentment, fight scenes (nothing too graphic), Boxer!JK, injuries, blood, spying, drama with exes, arguing, underground cage fighting with ill intentions, OC and JK wrestle for control when he goes into his rut, a magic spell gone wrong, biting, JK and OC's POVs are included, HAPPY ENDING

smut warnings (tread carefully): masturbation (male), JK later goes into his RUT, kissing, unprotected sex, thigh job, oral sex (male and female receiving), scratching, rough sex, face-fucking, standing sex, knotting, creampies, dirty talk, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, hickies, nipple play, tummy bulge, lots of cum, marking, doggystyle, slight breeding kink (no pregnancy), slight dumbification, pain kink, brief mentions of anal, chains, hand jobs

a/n: This is an epilogue for my series Moonstruck (inspired by TVD), but it can be read as a STAND-ALONE! You do not have to read Moonstruck (but it will be more satisfying if you have 😉). This is the most smut I've written in a while and I tried out a new writing style too. I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and asks always make my day, thank you! Or if you prefer AO3, I post there too.

| Part 1 | Part 2

Six Months Later…

Another unknown number. You stare at your phone on the motel bed like the device is an uninvited guest as you step out of the bathroom, scrunching a towel around your damp hair. The clock on the wall reads midnight. 

Maybe it’s a client?

The call disappears before you can answer it, reverting to the lock screen—the wedding group picture from last year. You had cropped it where it showcases only you and Jungkook. It’s a tad pixelated from being zoomed in so much, but the same deer-in-the-headlights expression pokes through on both of your faces. He was holding you in a dip position because you had almost fallen. The memory makes you smile every time, and you need a little joy in this dreary room. 

You sit on the bed and the phone rings again, as if on cue. The towel is cast aside as you answer it, tapping the button for speaker mode. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss [Y/N]?”

Even your alarm clock can’t get you out of bed this fast. You’re up on your feet, placing the phone against your ear as your heart rate spikes. There’s no way. That deep, smooth voice was unmistakable, especially when it used to whisper the filthiest things in your ear. “Y-Yes, this is her. Who is this?”

As if you don’t already know. “I’m Officer Kim Taehyung, Headmaster Kim gave me your number.”

What’s the latest phone model in store? Because you’re seconds away from shattering the current one in your hands. Or maybe you should redirect your anger around Namjoon’s neck instead. You kept your words steady as you said, “Oh, I see. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m so sorry to call you at this hour, but I’m worried about a… a friend of mine,” he says. His hesitation on the “friend” label piques your interest. “I haven’t been able to reach him in a couple of weeks. I’m worried he’s gone missing.”

Wait. He’s an officer now? 

“If an officer such as yourself hasn’t been able to find him, that is worrisome. I’m assuming your friend is supernatural. Because that’s kind of all I do…”

“Yes, of course. He’s a hybrid.”

Your heart is lodged in your throat, unable to force the things you want to scream out. You had to take a deep breath before asking in a low voice, depicting how serious this is, “He’s a what?”

“A hybrid. Do you… know him?”

Do I know him… what a stupid question. You roll your eyes as if he could see you through the phone. “Text me everything you have on him. I’ll find him.”

“How?”

“Are you questioning my skills? I said I’ll find him.”

You hang up after that and collapse flat on your back, the mattress squeaking from your weight. You shouldn’t be so harsh on him; the poor man wasn’t up to date with all that’s happened. It’s not like he would know your history with Jungkook. Or you, for that matter. You made sure of that.

A buzz from your phone snaps you from your thoughts.

KTH: His name is Jeon Jungkook. His last known location was his apartment up north. I’ll send you the address and a picture.

He’s a man of his word, as the next text contains a map with the location marked by a round red pushpin. As much as you want to cremate Namjoon, Taehyung has given you the first lead you’ve had in months. If anything happened to Jungkook, you’d never forgive yourself. 

*Bzz*

Well, that’s new. It’s a picture of Jungkook under a white duvet, his arm bent, his head propped on his hand. Most of his body was covered, but the amount of skin showing at the junction between his neck and shoulder lets you know he is naked. Or at most, shirtless. Both are equally hot options if you have anything to say about it. 

His lips are pressed together into a coy smile, but his eyes are screaming “fuck me.” Like a personal challenge. 

KTH: Oops. I didn’t mean to send that picture.

You: It’s fine. I got the jist of what he looks like.

Why he has such a suggestive photo of Jungkook in the first place was concerning, but not enough for you to press further. 

Jungkook’s Point of View

My guard is up as my opponent swings his fists. His moves have zero technique, relying solely on blind rage as he tries to knock me out. Too bad I was quicker than him, playing the defensive first while I decided the best way to secure my victory. 

As we shuffle around the caged ring, the burly man in front of me grows impatient, like a bull taunted by a red cape. The more he charged, the more I dodged. He hasn’t gotten a single hit in, which only spurs the crowd to cheer louder for me. 

My heart is battering around in my rib cage, excited from the adrenaline rush. Having the spotlight on me, adoring fans, and exerting my muscles makes me feel alive. I don’t focus on anything else. I can’t. If I want to win, I transform whatever turmoil brews inside me into determination.

The rules are simple: no weapons, no biting, only fists and feet. Classic brawl style. We may be wolves, but there are boundaries, or our pride would cause a full-on slaughter.

The guy in front of me is drenched in sweat, and I see how his movements slowed—he was getting tired. It was time for me to go on the offensive.

I launch a kick, aiming for his right side. He caught it without even blinking, earning a choral gasp from the audience. They assume I’m in a bind, but I focus all my strength on my other leg and smack the dude across the face at lightning speed. He fell with a resounding thud, but I don’t wait for him to regain balance. 

I hit him with all I got—jab, cross, jab, cross. Right hook, left hook. He cowered in the corner like a bitch and I knee him in the gut. It was like watching a boulder topple over, his pride smashed into smithereens. Throwing my arms up, I circle the cage to pump up morale. The crowd bangs their fists against the enclosure as I roar. The referee begins the countdown from ten. 

Another victory added to my streak. Maybe I’ll treat myself and get laid tonight. I can smell the eager ones in the room and when I first got here, I always turned them down to be modest. Fuck that. I’m finally going to do it. 

I scan the room for potential suitors when my eyes land on her. It was like tunnel vision where everyone else was blacked out and she was the light at the end. I’m nothing but a moth to her flame, so gobsmacked that I rub my eyes to ensure I wasn’t seeing things. 

When I come to, she’s gone. There’s no way. 

I worked so hard to get over her. Is my brain so fucked that it’s starting to make me hallucinate? It seems years of therapy did absolutely nothing. Thanks, Jin.

Next thing I know the big guy recovers and tackles me to the ground. He got a good hit in; I tasted blood. There was no time to dwell on a figment of my imagination. My thirst for victory shouldn’t be underestimated as I swing my fist square in his jaw. I wasn’t going down that easy. 

Yikes. That’s a doozy.

I’ve been examining my face for five minutes now, hating how he split my lip open. Oh well. It’ll heal soon enough and I sent him home with far worse. 

That was the last fight of the night, so I had the locker room all to myself. The staff went home after sending the customers on their way. I go to my locker, type in the combination, and pull out a spare change of clothes and a towel. 

I head to the shower, placing my things on the bench. I undress, the first thing being my tank top, which had splotches of blood stained on the white fabric. Most of it wasn’t mine anyway, thankfully. I remove my shorts, discarding them in the same pile as my top. 

I enter the shower and close the curtain, turning the water onto the hottest setting. Once it hits my skin, I throw my head back and feel my muscles release its tension as I bask in the warmth. I tilt my head forward to get my hair damp when thoughts of her creep into my mind. 

It felt real. She looked real. I remembered everything about her appearance from head to toe even if I only saw her briefly. 

Her hair was dyed now to a color that suited her features. She had minimal makeup on that further enhanced her natural beauty. Her body was adorned in black skinny jeans where the seams were in front, matching her black combat boots and leather jacket. Underneath was a short-sleeved v-neck, her cleavage prominent and so inviting. Ugh. I shouldn’t be thinking about her in such a way, but where was I supposed to look? Her push-up bra was doing god’s work. 

Man, I’m so pathetic. I shouldn’t lust over her. She left me not once, but twice. What’s worse is she doesn’t know I remember everything. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept vervain on me that day. Would my life have turned out better? 

I dispense some body wash into my hands, lathering it between my palms before rubbing my torso. My hands trail down to my groin area, and I thoroughly clean it because sweaty balls are such a turn-off. But then I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, stroking it slowly. 

It looks like I’m washing it, but I already know what’s coming next. Memories of her are like shards of glass I can’t remove, embedded so deep that it scars. I reminisce about our past. How it felt to touch her, kiss her, love her. Her sweet moans, her soft breasts, her addictive scent. I’m palming myself and shuddering. Unlike her, my hands are calloused, but I pretend I have her soft touch.

I close my eyes and fantasize. I’d tear her clothes off with my bare teeth, mark all over her chest with my lips, turn her around, and take her. Indulge in my primitive urges and teach her a lesson. God, I wanted to fuck someone tonight, anyone, but my mind defaults to her. 

The soap makes it easy to glide my hand up and down my cock. I’m going much faster now, my breaths more ragged. No one’s here anyway. So I moan. I don’t give a fuck anymore. I just need to come and get this out of my system. 

I’m about to finish when there’s a gasp outside my stall. My entire body stills and I don’t take a moment to ask “Who’s there?” like the stupid idiots you see in horror movies. I think about what to do next and then commit. 

After turning off the water, I pull the curtain back and step out. I glance to my left to see the shower stall at the end has its curtain closed. It wasn’t like that before. 

I put on my boxers because I sure as hell wasn’t going to face this intruder naked. I plan to charge in there and drag him out without saying a word. Other than the sound of my footsteps, it’s eerily quiet. I reach my hand out, but as soon as I’m about to grab the curtain, the shower turns on. 

I hesitate, wondering if I’m about to be an asshole who’s about to expose an innocent soul out in the open. Before I built my reputation, I was jumped for being the new guy multiple times. That stopped after the third guy went home with three broken ribs though, but I can never be too careful. Some people were sore losers.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Great. I’m not only stupid but polite. I’m sure the person behind the curtain will slit my throat any moment, so I better act fast. I grab the curtain and attempt to pull it, but it’s stuck. 

Or rather, someone is holding it still. I yank harder this time, but they refuse to budge. I use both hands, gripping it extra tight, and tug with all my might until the sound of torn fabric echoes in the room, revealing the culprit.

The person I thought I healed from, the one I once thought I would heal with, is standing right before me, her eyes as wide as mine. I can’t think straight, so my body moves without permission as I charge forward, pinning her to the wall face first. I have her arms pinned behind her back, catching my breath when I realized what I had done. 

I don’t want her to look at me. Because then I’d have to accept the fact that she’s real. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Your Point of View

Where do you start? Do you tell him you tracked him down to the countryside and climbed down a creepy cellar door behind a barn only to find out he was an underground cage fighter? Or explain how you followed him to the locker rooms hoping to get a word with him until you tripped on your shoelaces? 

It’s difficult to decide when he’s got your arms twisted behind your back. They were getting sore. 

“I–I heard you were missing,” you say, wary of your next choice of words. “Can you please let me go?”

You attempt to move, but he holds your wrists with one hand while using the other one to render your head immobile. He uses enough force to press your cheek against the cold tile.

“I didn’t say you could move,” he warned, his voice laced with venom. “Congratulations, you found me. I’m no longer missing.”

“And you’re a cage fighter?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re cheating. This place is only for werewolves and you’re a—”

He flips you around so quickly you almost get whiplash, your back pinned to the wall while he covers your mouth. He has a murderous glare, his jaw clenches, and the vein near his temple bulges out. “Be quiet. You never know who’s listening.”

Your eyes drink him in, ogling him unashamed because his beauty should have been illegal. His hair was damp, but you can tell it’s cut short now. He didn’t have any piercings in, his natural beauty was enough to make anyone fall to their knees—which is exactly what you wanted to do for him. But you don’t make a sound. 

You couldn’t help but notice the glorious sight of his inked sleeve. When did he get that many tattoos? You bet there was a story to each one, but before you can dwell on it, Jungkook shifts his hand from your mouth to your eyes. 

There’s a sense of deja vu from his actions. The last time he covered your eyes was to prevent you from compelling him two years ago. Following through with such a heartbreaking decision was difficult, but you believed it was for the best.

As for now? You’re not sure. 

“So you stalk me because you thought I was missing, follow me into the showers, and now you’re ogling me like a pervert?”

He got you there. “I… I didn’t mean to…”

“If the roles were reversed, I’d look like some sick freak. You invaded my privacy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Let me ask you something, and I expect you to be honest: Were you listening to me earlier?” He saw you tuck your lower lip under your teeth like you wanted to seal the words shut. “Answer me. And don’t play dumb.”

“Yes,” you say, meek and pathetic. “I heard you.”

You can’t see him, but his eyes are crazed like he doesn’t know how to act around you. “And did you like what you heard?” He closes the gap between your bodies, his bare chest barely brushing against yours. His lips are ghosting across your own as he continues. “You like hearing me get off like some sick freak? Is that what you are? A fucking pervert?”

“N-No…” You don’t sound convincing in the slightest. 

His hot breath fans across your face. “I didn’t even get to finish.”

You gulp. “I… I could help you finish…”

Before your hand has a chance to sneak over to his lower region, he snatches it. “You aren’t allowed to touch me.”

“Technically, you touched me first.”

“Bratty now, are we? Don’t be flattered. I’d rather touch myself.” He releases your wrist, but his other hand is in the same spot, obstructing your sight. “I’m going to jerk off and you’re going to stand there until I’m finished.”

“What?”

“You heard me. And you’re going to keep hearing me until I’m satisfied. Understand?”

The constant steam from the shower was nearing the point of suffocation, but his words were far deadlier. “Okay.”

“Hands behind your back. I don’t want you tempted. Perverts like you can’t be trusted.”

You have to scold yourself for igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach from his slander, but you obey. Though you can’t see him, you hear the soft smacking sounds of him jerking his cock, surprised at how quickly he was to start.

If you had your sight, you’d be able to see how he is staring at your lips, wishing more than anything he could kiss you. How his eyes trail down to your cleavage and how the droplets of water made them look more enticing. His mind is racing a mile a minute through all his fantasies of how he’d take you, punish you, torment you until you were begging to come. As much as he does want to fuck you, you’re so damn gorgeous that admiring you was enough. 

His moans sound like soft sobs the closer he approaches his climax, his hand speeding up. It’s erotic, whiny, and sexy when he’s so desperate. He’s grunting through gritted teeth, panting like he’s running out of breath. You wonder if he makes the same noises when he’s working out. 

Fuck, you’d give anything to see him now. But his intentions were clear. You were to be still until he was finished. 

“Does this turn you on?” he asks, his voice shaky. He lays his chin on your shoulder, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “I’m close.”

He lets out a choked gasp, whispering “fuck, fuck, fuck” as he pumps himself as fast as he can, reaching his high and submitting to the pleasure. It’s unbelievably erotic and he comes in his hand, catching the spurts of cum. He pulls back and stares at your lips again.

“Open.” Your mouth obeys willingly and he shoves two of his cum-soaked fingers inside. You close your lips around them, sucking them clean and savoring his taste. It’s bitter and slightly salty, but you welcome it. “Good girl.”

The praise brings a grin to your face. He rinses his hand under the water, turns it off, and finally releases his hold on you. You see the large expanse of his back as he walks away, almost drooling at his size. He slips on a loose black T-shirt, sweatpants, and slides. 

He looks over his shoulder. “Do you need clothes?” 

The question makes your heart swell. “I’m good.” 

Jungkook hears you mutter words similar to Latin. He turns around to see your necklace glow when you rub it between your thumb and forefinger. Your clothes dry in an instant, and he chuckles. “When did you learn magic?”

“I’ve had some free time.”

He peers down to your feet, letting out a heavy sigh as he walks over. Getting down on one knee, he ties your shoelace and you can’t help but melt. 

“I hope you have some free time now,” he says, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “I’m not done with you yet. We need to talk.”

It’s past 3 AM. The air is cool and crisp, carrying a faint scent of hay. Stars are twinkling in the clear night sky while the moon casts a silvery glow, illuminating silhouettes of barns in the distance. It’s quiet since folks are deep in their slumber, so walks home are usually serene. 

“Jungkook, wait up!”

Today’s an exception. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”

You jog to catch up to his pace on the dirt road. He rolls his eyes but slows his steps, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t you say we needed to talk?”

He stops abruptly, and you almost bump into his mountainous form. “Okay. Talk. Why are you here? You made it clear the last time we met that you couldn’t stay.”

You fumble with your words, as your brain isn’t quite as speedy as your lips. “Well I… I wasn’t in my right mind then.”

“Did I hurt you?” Your expression softens when you see the concern in his features, those brown doe eyes so big and round that you can see your reflection in them. Had he spent all this time fearing the worst?

“No… not in the slightest. I left because I was embarrassed.”

“I don’t believe you. You looked at me like…” He closes his eyes as if the next words would pain him. “Like I was a mistake.”

“No!” you exclaim, shaking your head. “You are anything but a mistake.”

“Then why do I feel like you’re hiding something?” He invades your space, his large frame towering over yours. “Why are you really here, [Y/N]?”

This is your chance to tell him the truth. With one command, you can make him remember loving you and all the shared memories that came with it. You’re ready to love him the way he deserves, but the thing is… you’re not sure you deserve him. Consequences were in order and pain was inevitable. He’ll hate you. He’ll feel betrayed.

Panic takes charge, forming an excuse for you. “I told you… someone told me you went missing. I was worried.”

He raises an eyebrow, prodding the inside of his cheek with his tongue like your answer was unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

Jungkook drops his arms to his side. “Wow. That son of a…” He clasps a hand to his forehead, pacing back and forth in utter disbelief. “Guess I have two stalkers.”

“What exactly is Taehyung’s relationship to you?”

He stops and faces you, looking like you had offended him. “There is no relationship. There will never be a relationship, but he doesn’t seem to get that! God!”

You place your hands on your hips. “I don’t understand.”

He decides against elaborating but quickly changes his mind after seeing you use Taehyung to deflect.

“He’s an old roommate. We used to fuck. Okay?” Time seems to stop between you two but for an entirely different reason. You’re abhorred, unable to comprehend the fact your ex fucked your other ex. This must be the universe’s punishment for messing with their memories. Because the Jungkook you know would have never sought him out after everything Taehyung put you through.

You fucked my ex?! The dude who tried to kill you?! The guy who backstabbed us and harmed us?! Are you insane?!

You have to bite your tongue before the house of cards collapses. 

“I was experiencing my first rut. It was overwhelming. Not like I could fuck a human without hurting them. Permanently,” he adds, watching how your face morphs into one lost in thought. “What’s up?” 

You snap out of it. “Oh. Nothing. Before Taehyung, I went west because there were rumors of the ‘Cervix Splitter’ and thought…”

He stares at you, mouth agape as he points to himself. “You thought that was me?!”

“I don’t know!” you say, holding your hands out with your palms up. “I think they might have a serial killer loose… damn.”

“Can we please stick to the subject?” he asks, exasperation coating every word. You nod and gesture for him to continue. “Anyway, he and I ran into each other and one thing led to another. We were both hybrids with needs. It was a good arrangement, but then he got obsessive. Wanted a relationship. I said no.”

You give him a look of sympathy as you recall how Taehyung reacted when you broke up with him. Even though you erased your existence from his mind, it seems his obsessive tendencies lingered. Some things never change. “He didn’t like that very much, did he?”

“What do you think? I ran away, so he’d leave me alone. It worked for the past few months until you showed up.” He narrows his eyes into slits. “Did you tell him I was here?”

“No. He keeps texting me though.”

He points an accusatory finger at you. “You’re not going to tell him anything. Got it?”

“I won’t. But if you keep that tone up, I might reconsider,” you warn.

“And how would that benefit you? Do you know Taehyung?”

Unfortunately. “It’s my job to help those in need in the supernatural community.”

“What are you, the Scooby Doo gang?” He steps back to laugh. “Is this what you’ve been up to since you’ve left?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you scold. “Helping is what I do. I’m good at it. It clears my mind.”

“Okay. Then you can ‘help’ yourself out of here. Tell Taehyung you didn’t find me while I go home and rest. I’m exhausted.”

He dashes off, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. You follow at once and encounter a quaint cottage surrounded by forestry. Jungkook waits at the front door, folding his arms across his chest.

“Do you need something else?” he asks. You swear you can see the cogs turning in his mind, unable to figure out what’s your angle.

“Are you going to continue fighting?” 

He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s a great stress reliever. Keeps me from…” His eyes flit to your lips for a brief second. “... overthinking. Plus I get great perks. Respect. Fans. Money.”

“You don’t need money.”

“I know, but it’s a power trip having it. Besides, people bet on me. I’d hate to let my loyal benefactors down.”

You mirror his stance, folding your arms as displeasure passes your face. “You’re a hybrid. It’s a given you’ll win every fight and that’s not fair to their pack.”

“Only if they find out.” You’re about to counteract his argument, but he beats you to it. “Look. Boxing’s my thing. I enjoy the rush it gives me. Exerting my muscles, feeling that sweet burn, and fighting until my body gives out—it’s addicting. I feel alive.”

His eyes shimmer with every word he speaks like he was putting on a speech to inspire high school kids. It only brings you more dread when there’s a confession on the tip of your tongue. 

“Well… do you have to box here?”

“I like it here. Now if you don’t mind…”

He pulls out his keys, turns around, and inserts them into the lock. You nibble on your thumbnail, scrambling to come up with another excuse. Once he enters, you use your enhanced speed and invite yourself in. 

“Can I stay?” you ask, quick to shut the door. He chuckles, impressed by your tenacity.

“What is with you? Don’t you have a Cervix Splitter to catch? Please leave.”

The words bubble up in your throat, forcefully coming to the surface like word vomit. “You can’t stay here!”

The outburst garners his undivided attention as he stares at you dumbfounded like there is Wii music playing in the background. “Why?”

“There’s some people who know you’re a hybrid…” you reveal, your voice reduced to a mere squeak.

“What did you say?” he asks through gritted teeth. You don’t reply and he repeats himself, this time with a lower volume, which spooks you more than if he was shouting. “What did you do?”

“When I came here to find you, I asked if anyone saw you. I showed them a picture and told them you’re a hybrid. Thought it’d make it faster…” You let out a small laugh. “I was kinda right…”

Jungkook looks like he’s at a crossroads of whether to hate you or murder you. Or both. “Why would you expose me like that?”

“I didn’t know it was a secret.” He lifts his fist at an angle toward the door, and you wait for him to slam it down in anger. However, he sighs and lowers his hand slowly, splaying his fingers against the wood. You blink twice, choosing your next words carefully. “I don’t understand. Why would you hide the fact you’re a hybrid?”

He holds onto the sides of his head like he is about to rip his hair out. “Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm is dripping in every word. “Did you forget how your grandparents tried to kill us when they discovered your existence?”

What did he say?

His hands drop down by his side as do yours. Realization dawns upon you two, the world coming to a screeching halt. Shock renders you immobile as the gears in your head try to turn, but they’re overwhelmed by the million questions plaguing your mind. He shouldn’t know that. He shouldn’t remember that. Unless… he never forgot.

“You remember me… You remember everything,” you say in a breathy tone. You should’ve seen it coming, especially with how he acted at the wedding. “How do you—“

“I had vervain on me,” he confesses without the slightest remorse. 

You take a small step back, almost stumbling. “So this whole time… you never forgot me? You knew what I did and didn’t say anything? You slept with Taehyung?!”

“That’s what you got from this? That’s what you choose to focus on?” His question pins you for a fool. 

“Because that’s the stupidest thing you could’ve done! I erased his memories so he could start fresh. Same with you!”

“What difference does it make? I asked, no, I begged you not to erase my memories and you did it anyway.”

You steel yourself to remain calm. “Because I didn’t want you burdened by me anymore. I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

He tilts his head, his eye slightly twitching as he raises a finger like he is about to lecture you. “Stop. Stop saying it was best for me when the reality was, you were only thinking about yourself.” He takes a sharp inhale. “You wanna know why I got with Tae? Because I was a mess when you left. Devastated. Broken people look for broken people, [Y/N].”

You threw your head back. “Oh my god... This is precisely why I wanted you to forget.”

He almost snarls. “You don’t get it, do you? You always do this. You make decisions without my consent. I never asked to be a hybrid, I never asked for any of this shit.”

You place a hand on your chest, offended. “I’m sorry, you’re upset I turned you to save your life?”

“You turning me was what started this whole mess,” he spits out, revulsion apparent. “I was sired to you, I fell in love with you, I went through hell and back only for it to not matter in the end. You left me. I could forgive you the first time, but not for the second.”

There aren’t any words you can say to combat this. 

“I remember everything about you. About us,” he says, the look in his eyes resembling a kicked puppy. “I remember what you said the day you tried to compel me.”

“Don’t,” you plead. He throws your words back at you in a rather snarky manner.

“‘When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me.,” he quotes. “I used to think I’d be okay waiting for you to come around… but that was incredibly stupid. You came back only to abandon me again and for what? To go around playing vigilante?”

“Jungkook…”

“No, I’m not done.” He starts to pace back and forth. “Did you ever stop to think about what I wanted? Of course not. Because in the end, it’s all about you. You should’ve erased everything. What was the point of only erasing my love for you, huh?”

“What do you want me to say?” you ask, fighting back tears.

“I want you to tell me the truth. You erased Taehyung’s memories of you because he was a psychopath but spared me the smallest glimpse. Why? Why not erase it all?”

“Because I love you!” you exclaim. He stops pacing, shooting you a skeptical glare. “And knowing that you still remembered me, even a tiny part of me, was comforting enough to help me move on. I needed space.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet? But I’m not your safety net, [Y/N].” He walks over to his front door and pulls it open. “Get out.”

You shake your head. “Jungkook, please.”

“Either you get out or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and force you out.”

The resentment he had must’ve grown exponentially over the years. If you push him further than you already had, he might snap. So you exit his house but go for one final attempt at whatever relationship you can salvage with him.

“Please let me stay. I can protect you from those cage fighters if they decide to get even.”

“No. You’ve done enough.”

“Jungkook—”

“Enough!” His voice carries, causing birds to flutter their wings and find solace in another tree further away. You watch as he towers over you again, but beneath his icy glare is a heartbroken man. “Since I first saw you, I have belonged to you completely.”

He tightens his fists, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before saying the next part.

“I have always belonged to you. And for that, I suffered. I came here to escape, to heal, and it worked. I was at peace and you waltz in here, stirring up chaos in my life where it’s not welcomed.” His eyes never waver and you don’t dare look away. “And what’s funny is how you expect me to do what? Take you back?”

“I… I don’t know. I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” he finishes for you. “Do you think it’s easy seeing you? I’m angry, [Y/N]. You make me so mad I can’t even think straight.”

“Then yell at me! Don’t push me away.”

“I’m pushing you away because I know you. And I know what hurts you the most.” He caresses your face longingly, slowly, like it’d be the last time. His fingers ghost the surface of your skin, and you lean in, desperate for more. But he pulls back. “Either you choose me or you lose me. And it’s too late to choose me now. Goodbye [Y/N].”

“No,” you say like a stubborn child. “I don’t want to leave you. I’m afraid to lose you. Please.”

He clicks his tongue at you as he shakes his head. “I suggest you face your fears. It’s not like this is the first time.”

The last thing you see is the door being slammed in your face.

Jungkook’s Point of View

That was the worst sleep of my life. I couldn’t stop thinking about her and how I left her. She deserved all my venomous words, but empathy made me regret everything. Why do we even need such an emotion when all it does is make us feel like shit?

It’s pitch black in my room. The low-pitched sound of the air conditioner is my only companion. I enjoy being alone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely. I shouldn't get used to missing her, but I’m used to it again. I wish she were here.

I decide to get dressed and quickly leave the house. For once the angel and devil on my shoulder agree, pressing me to find her but for two different reasons. One says to forgive and forget, the other craves to deliver punishment and commit sins. 

I tell myself I’m going hunting instead. Rabbits and squirrels fall prey to my clutches and I feel a pang in my heart when I drink their blood, but I have to survive somehow. Before I knew it, it was dark outside and the moon looked lonely, almost like it was crying in the night sky. 

I couldn’t find her. I searched all day, but the countryside is vast, and I’m drenched in sweat. Checking the time on my watch, I see I’m late for my next fight. 

Shit. 

It’s fine. She’s an Original Hybrid and can take care of herself. 

Rushing back to the barn, I circle to find the angled cellar door. I pull the handle, descend downstairs, and run into one of the bouncers. Aside from cage fighting, the underground establishment is used for clubbing and drinking most days of the week. I hear the heavy bass from the music, feeling the ground shake from the vibrations. I greet the bouncer with a handshake, but he stares at me like I had pissed in his thermos. 

“Ms. Lim wants to see you,” he says, his voice gruff. He gestures his bald head towards the door that says “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” on the right, so I head there. There’s a narrow hallway and at the end of the corridor is her office. I slowly open the door. 

“Jungkook,” Her nasal voice already has a trace of annoyance as I poke my head in. She’s sitting behind her desk with two henchmen about twice my size, both dressed in suits with their hands clasped in front. “Come in please.”

I do what she says and she points to the chair in front, so I sit. “Hello, Ms. Lim. I know I’m late, I’m sorry. Can I have the next fight?”

Her mouth twitches. “No. We need to talk.”

She snaps her fingers and the two bodyguards stand on either side of me, each placing a firm hand on my shoulders. When I squirm, they hold me tighter as if cementing me still. I let out a nervous laugh, feigning innocence. “What’s going on?”

The middle-aged woman adjusts her thick-rimmed glasses, scoffing like I was being impolite in the presence of royalty. “I run a tight-knit business, Jungkook. My wolves… They follow me. They listen to me. Because I’m honest and upfront. I don’t dish out bullshit.”

She stands, placing her hands behind her back as she circles the front of her desk, closing the gap between us. 

“Wolves like to fight. It’s in our nature to have some aggression. Here you can release it in a healthy, controlled environment,” she says. “When you first arrived, I liked you right away. The sheer arrogance you had, the drive to win—you were a natural for the ring. People bet on you because you never let them down.” She leans against her desk, lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose bridge to look at me. “You don’t want to let people down, right?”

The bait can’t be more obvious, but I indulge her anyway. “Of course not.”

My answer seems to placate her and she puts her finger under my chin, tilting my head up. “Then I need you to tell me the truth. What are you, Jungkook?”

“I’m a wolf. Just like you, ma’am.” Not like that was a complete lie. I am a wolf. Half.

She grips my chin harder, her pupils blown so wide that they overtook her irises. “Is that all?”

“Look, it’s clear you know something so why don’t you…” She whips out a pistol from underneath the slit in her long dress and I stare down the barrel without moving a muscle. 

“There’s no fear in your eyes. Probably because you know and I know that this crummy little thing won’t kill you.” She pulls the trigger, but the shot is empty. I try my best not to scowl as she puts it away. “One of my men ran into a strange girl yesterday. She was hysterical, almost aggressive in asking about you.”

“Make your point.”

“She told me you were a hybrid. Is that true?”

I lean back against the chair, my shoulders less tense now that the secret is out. “Yes. So what? I’m still part wolf.”

“You’re half-wolf,” she corrects. “I don’t give a damn about you being a hybrid. But I do care that you weren’t fully transparent with me. And people talk. Word gets around I’m letting a hybrid take all the winnings and my business is done.”

“No one has to know.”

“Oh darling… she blabbed all over town about you. I’m sure everyone already knows. But I have a deal for you if you want to stay.”

Judging from her toothy smile, the chances of this deal being more beneficial for her than me are high. “What deal?”

“Do you know how much money I can make if I put two hybrids against each other?” she asks, flashing a smirk. “Especially with a pretty little thing like her against someone like you. The crowd would go wild.”

I shake my head. “I’ll pass. She’s not into cage fighting and I don’t hit women.”

“Who says she’s not?” I don’t like her tone and the insinuation behind it. “Darling, who do you think is taking your place right now?”

“What?”

“[Y/N] is fighting her heart out at this very moment. The wolves adore her. Probably because I said whoever beats her gets to breed her.”

This time I force myself to stand, knocking out both men when they attempt to grab me again with a one-two combo. They collapse with a resounding thud, and I head straight for Ms. Lim. I’m holding her dress collar and lifting her in the air, but she remains unphased.

“Where is she?”

“I see she’s important to you.”

“Where is she?!” I shout, not caring that I spit on her. 

“She turned you, right? How’d she do it? Did you two have sex?”

“I’m not asking you again,” I warn. She wraps her hand around my wrist, her irises shifting to a muted gold as she pries my hold off her, dislocating my hand. I curse in pain, fully prepared to retaliate, but she snaps her fingers three times. 

I hear footsteps from behind me and the door opens with a loud slam. Looking over my shoulder, I see about fifty men in black suits who are bigger than me enter the room. They all bear matching stoic expressions, but their fists are up and ready as their pointed glares shoot in my direction. 

“There isn’t much information on hybrids and experimenting on an Original is too good of an opportunity to pass up. I’m sure my boys would love to breed her. Then business would be booming with hybrid fighters at my side!” Ms. Lim cries.

My blood is boiling and I swear I’m seeing red. I snap my wrist back into place without breaking eye contact and backhand her across the face. She falls to the floor, stunned, holding the side of her cheek. “I thought you said you don’t hit women!”

“My apologies. I meant beautiful women.”

Three men grab me—one at each arm and the last holding my waist. The others line up, each taking a jab at me. The first punch is aimed at my stomach. One breaks my nose. Another hits me square in the jaw. I see stars by the time Ms. Lim stands, holding her hand up for them to stop. 

“How dare you? Oh, I’m going to make sure your little girlfriend is knocked up. Poor thing has no clue what plans I have for her.”

I muster enough strength to spit at her, flicking droplets of blood onto her face. She shrieks in disgust and slaps me in return. I only laugh like a madman.

“Good luck… she’s infertile…” I say, trying to find my breath. “And my girl can take care of herself. She won’t lose.”

“It’s okay. I can still find plenty of uses for her. If my boys can’t breed her, they can still fuck her once they’re done with you. I bet she screams pretty,” Ms. Lim says.

“You’re lying!”

“Am I?” She snaps her fingers again, prompting the last man who punched me to step forward. He pulls out something gold from his pocket, dangling it in front of me like a carrot for a rabbit. My face falls when I recognize the double moon charms. “Mr. Ahn here is the first one that defeated [Y/N]. He’ll get to have her first.”

The douchebag has a devilish grin as he slips the necklace over my head. He pats my cheek twice before smacking it hard on the third. I bare my teeth, more than ready to kick his ass, but other men are holding me still.

“I’m going to check the status of our beautiful prize and see if she’s ready for Mr. Ahn,” Ms. Lim declares, exiting the room with the sleazy bastard. Right before she closes the door, she sticks her head in and adds, “Whoever gets that necklace from him gets to have her next.”

The door shuts and I’m shouting curses at her until my throat is hoarse. All sense of self-control goes out the window as I unleash my wrath, my anger blinding me as my fists take control. In cage fights, I’ve had to hold back. But now? I’m ready to demolish anyone who gets in my way.

Your Point of View

After Jungkook kicked you out, you roamed the area for a place to stay. With your abilities, you had endless options: an inn, a motel, a farmhouse, or even the forest if you prefer. Heartbroken, you planned to wolf out until a middle-aged woman found you on the side of the road. 

She drove beside you, parked her car, and rolled down her windows. Your first instinct was to walk away, but she mentioned Jungkook and how she was his boss. She told you how her place wasn’t too far away, offering a place for you to stay the night. 

Questions kept pouring out of you, but she wouldn’t answer until you agreed to her offer. Your guard was up the whole night despite the fact she was a werewolf too. She doted on you with tea and snickerdoodles, but you didn’t dare take a bite until after she did.

Though you were on edge most of the night, her aura was warm, like a grandmother’s love or what you could only imagine as such. Your grandparents tried to eradicate you for being a hybrid, believing that your existence was an abomination. It’s funny how Ms. Lim, someone not blood-related, treated you far better than they ever did.

She answered your questions about Jungkook, but you didn’t dare overshare about your relationship with him. She persuaded you to join her the next day at work, offering the gym and free training sessions with her best fighters. You weren’t sure at first, but then ultimately gave in.

The next day Ms. Lim gave you a tour of the underground cellar and you couldn’t believe how massive it was. Everyone you encountered greeted you like one of the family, and you got to learn new fighting techniques with her bodyguards. 

When it was nighttime, Ms. Lim suggested you fight for real. You worried it’d be unfair, but she assured you the opponents were more than willing. 

Your first opponent is a man who looks like the descendant of a Viking. His muscles are so large you can see the veins bulging underneath his skin. He gives you a crooked smile, which you would’ve found somewhat attractive if he hadn’t made a sexist comment the next second.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in the ring? Hasn’t no one swept you off your feet and wed you yet?” You make the first move and use his words against him, sweeping him off his feet with your leg. He falls flat on his back and laughs while the crowd cheers. “It’s a shame. You’d make a great mother.”

“I’ll pass,” you say, sounding extra snarky. 

“Come on. You know you can’t beat me.”

The man got back up only to be taken down again with a skillful spin kick, causing his back to slam against the cage. You smirk as his expression shifts to anger, and he tackles you to the opposite side like a mad bull. Grunts come from both sides as you use your elbow, jabbing the top of his head until he lets go. 

You jump high and hang from the top of the cage, using your strong thighs to hold his head hostage. His oxygen depletes as his face turns purple, clawing at your legs but you don’t let up. His hands fall to his sides before his body collapses. Only then do you let go and land in a cool pose, feeling like a superhero. 

The crowd goes wild and you jump up and down like a kid who scored the winning goal. “I did it!”

You see why Jungkook loved this place so much. It’s an indescribable feeling, a rush of exhilaration as glory consumes you. 

Once you see Ms. Lim and her main bodyguard, you step out of the ring and greet her. “Ms. Lim, did you see? I won!”

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, giving you a toothy grin. “I know. I told you you’d do well. Let me show you your prize.”

You gasp. “I get a prize?” 

She leads you through the sea of fans. “Of course. Everyone gets compensated.”

You enter a door that leads you to a narrow hallway. The lights were dim, but it was enough for you to see something horrific. From where you stand to the door at the end are unconscious bodies strewn across the floor. Some are slumped against the wall, others are flat on their back or stomachs, each carrying some deformity. There’s blood splattered on the floor, but it wasn’t gorey enough to be deemed a bloodbath (though the sight was still alarming).

“What the fuck happened?” you ask. Ms. Lim screams in shock when she steps in, covering her mouth as she stumbles back. If not for Mr. Ahn, she probably would’ve fallen.

The door at the end of the corridor opens and you hear ragged breathing. There you see Jungkook stagger out, barely able to hold himself up with one arm. He has cuts on his face and a black eye, so his vision is halved. His tank top is in shreds, the fabric hanging by a thread as it dangles from his bruised body. 

He regains part of his strength once he sees you. “[Y/N]?”

You rush over to catch him before he falls. “Jungkook, what happened?!”

He’s putting his entire weight on you, close to fainting. But one look at Ms. Lim and he’s fired up. “That bitch… I’m gonna kill her…”

Ms. Lim wastes no time, urging Mr. Ahn to run away with her while you’re left bamboozled. “Ms. Lim?”

“She’s going to pay… She’s going to…”

Jungkook can’t fight his body’s limits anymore. The last thing he sees is darkness.

Sunlight pours through the window, stirring Jungkook from his slumber. He slowly opens one eye, surprised to see snow-covered trees and clear skies outside. In a daze, he sits up, holding his side as a sharp pain shoots through his body. He’s quick to notice his upper body has been covered in gauze and bandages. 

Whoever did it was meticulous. His chest and shoulders are tightly bound in layers, protecting his battered torso. The bandages crisscrossed over his ribcage, some were wrapped around his biceps, with the gauze extending down to his forearms. Bloodstains seeped through while he was asleep, but they don’t warrant any concern for now.

Jungkook touches his face, finding the cut on his cheek and upper lip taken care of. His other eye is no longer swollen, allowing him to observe his surroundings. He sees he’s in a cozy room, the wood ceiling and floors making him believe he’s at a lodge. There’s a large window to his right as well as a nightstand. The lamp sitting atop casts a warm golden glow, and Jungkook turns it off by pulling the string. 

There’s a gentle knock on the door. “Jungkook? Are you awake?”

He lays back down, covering his body with the duvet and closing his eyes as if he had never woken up. The doorknob jostles as you enter the room, holding a cup of water. You see his state and tip-toe closer, setting the mug on the nightstand. 

Staring at people while they sleep is creepy, but Jungkook looks angelic. Even if his face was marred, it didn’t stunt his beauty. If anything, his injuries made him more beautiful, the bandages being proof of his protectiveness. What he was protecting, you don’t know. 

“When you wake up, we seriously have a lot to talk about,” you whisper, pulling a nearby stool to sit on. “I don’t know why you did what you did. Ms. Lim and her men were so nice to me. She let me stay at her place after you kicked me out.”

You stick your tongue at him like a brat but end up giggling at your immaturity. 

“You were right to kick me out though,” you say, sighing. “Even with the best intentions, I can’t make things right. I’m sorry. Trust me, no one is more frustrated with me than me. That’s why when Ms. Lim suggested for me to fight, I didn’t hesitate.”

You ball your fists. “But it was so fun. I won my fight like bam! Bam! Bam!” You punch the air at each onomatopoeia, and Jungkook has to refrain from laughing. Why were you so cute?

“I get why you do it now. I’ve always had to fight for survival. I didn’t think it could be… gratifying. Anyway, I support your cage-fighting career,” You purse your lips. “But I guess you don’t have one anymore, considering what you did back there. I’m honestly confused. Why did you hurt them? I chased after Ms. Lim and uh… well, she burned your house down.”

You wait a second as if he’d respond. “She told us to never come back with no explanation… I didn’t even get my prize for winning,” you huff. 

Jungkook grunted, almost like he didn’t like what he was hearing. He turns onto his side, so he’d be facing away from you and wraps himself in a blanket burrito. The spot where he once lay had something gold in it. You carefully pick it up and caress the double moon charms with your thumb.

“My necklace…”

You stare at the back of his head, the gears in your head turning as you try to put the puzzle pieces together. Upon closer inspection, you notice faint bloodstains on the back of the charms and some on the chain.

“Did one of those men have my necklace? You beat up thirty men for it?”

“It was around fifty, but who’s counting?”

Your breath hitches, wondering if you were hearing things. Jungkook slowly sits up, resting his back against the headboard and flashing a cheeky grin. Heat spreads to the apples of your cheeks. 

“Were you awake this whole time?”

“Maybe.” He gives you a quick once over. “Are you hurt? Did anyone touch you?”

“Hmm? I’m fine. I should be asking you that. You took a beating and I’m still confused as to why.”

He slumps against the headboard, sagging like a dramatic blob. “God, you’re dense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? My necklace is all bloody… was this the prize Ms. Lim intended to give me?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes so far back they might as well get stuck. “Ms. Lim’s prize wasn’t the necklace. It was you. You were her men’s prize after the fight. She planned to let them have their way with you.”

Your eyes fall to the ground, your heart heavier than an anchor in a bottomless sea. Jungkook sees how you clutch the necklace in your fist, wishing he hadn’t revealed the truth so bluntly. 

“Hey… I’m sorry,” he begins. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No. I was naive. After what happened with my grandmother, I thought Ms. Lim was different. Anyway,” you say, changing the subject. “That’s why you did what you did?”

“I thought she had you trapped somewhere. Or that without your necklace, you were at a disadvantage. She told me Mr. Ahn defeated you and I just went berserk at the thought of something happening to you.”

It’s hard not to see the love he has for you in those beautiful eyes of his. “I never fought Mr. Ahn, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve won. I’m freakin’ awesome in the ring.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I know. I never doubted your skills. She riled me up and I assumed the worst.”

“Well… Thank you for looking out for me. I’m glad to have my necklace back. I thought I lost it for good.”

“I thought I lost you.”

Time comes to a standstill. No more words are shared, yet so much is being said through simple eye contact, an unspoken language only the two of you understand. Your hearts are burning, aching with desire, but you don’t dare act on it. You don’t deserve him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself to maintain restraint. 

“Can I put it on you?” he asks, pointing to the piece of jewelry in your hand. 

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” A white glow emits from your fist and when you open your palm, Jungkook sees the necklace is spotless. You hand it to him and shift positions, so your back is towards him. He scoots closer, his legs now dangling off the bed. 

When he brushes your hair away, your body tenses up. You see the gold chain from above before it settles on your collarbone. Jungkook leans in, getting a better view of the clasp but struggles to attach it. Seconds tick by like hours, but you don’t mind how long he takes. His hot breath on the nape of your neck is distracting you anyway.

“Almost got it…” he mumbles. And thank goodness too because you didn’t realize you were holding your breath the entire time. Once he’s finished, he leans back but you turn your head to the side and almost end up kissing him.

“Oh sorry, I—” You move away, but he places his hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place. 

“Stay.”

Stay still? Stay with him? Whatever he meant, it sounded like a command, a challenge, a test. You’re entranced by how close he is, your nose about to touch his, and his lips—fuck. They’re drawing near, but he stops a centimeter away and smirks like a damn tease. You swear you’re on fire, the heat radiating off his body further exacerbating things. 

His eyes droop down, but it’s not to your lips. Rather, he takes his free hand and holds the double moon charms between his forefinger and thumb, sliding it until it’s positioned in the center. 

“There,” he says, still far too close. There’s a deep yearning in his eyes, a passion he longs to share with you, but he’s holding himself back. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You pout. “What, suddenly you’re okay with me around?”

“Seeing you drives me mad, but not seeing you makes me insane,” An aw almost slips out of you, but you nod instead. “I’m trying so hard to hate you…” he whispers.

You match his volume. “Why?”

“Because it’s easier than admitting the opposite.” He finally releases his hold and leans back, allowing you to regain a semblance of sanity. “So where are we exactly?”

You fiddle with your necklace and try not to dwell on his words. “I used a teleportation spell and it took us here.”

“Randomly?”

“No. I didn’t know what to do, so I cast a spell to take me to Professor Jin. He’s here with Namjoon. They’re on vacation.” 

All of a sudden Jungkook groans and he’s clutching his abdomen. “Ah fuck...”

You jump out of your seat to examine him closer. “What’s going on?”

Sweat forms on his upper lip, his body temperature rising steadily as if someone turned on the heater to its max. It’s an all too familiar feeling. He laughs at the horrid timing, but it exacerbates his pain.

“I’m going to need you to learn a new spell,” he says, panting so much you fear he’d pass out.

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to go into a rut,” he answers, glaring at you like you’ve made a grave mistake, “and I don’t have boxing to distract me anymore.”

“Do you want me to help—” 

“No,” You can’t help but feel offended, and undesired, but he adds, “I don’t want to take advantage of you. It’s not right.”

“Okay…” You rub your arm and like the keen observer he was, he tacks on another thing and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make you feel better or himself. 

“I don’t give consent because it’s out of my control. Our time together shouldn’t be influenced or pressured because of other circumstances.”

You almost laugh at the hilarity of that statement. “Isn’t that the whole basis of our relationship? Everything always comes with a condition. This is exactly why I left…”

Jungkook’s pained expression morphs into something worse—dismay. You go for damage control, wishing you could take those words back and shove them far into the depths of your mind where they couldn’t hurt anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, full of regret, “I shouldn’t have said that. If you say no, I understand. It’s a no.”

“It’s fine. Not like you’re wrong. Can you go get Jin please?”

Jungkook’s Point Of View

I want to tear these bandages off. And then my skin. It’s too damn hot and the timer on my sanity is dwindling. The snow outside looks inviting and is the only blanket I want covering me. 

A knock on the door garners my attention and [Y/N] rushes in, carrying something silver between her fingers.

“Sorry for the wait, I got it!” Fuck, she smells incredible. There’s nothing on Earth that can compare to her delicate, sweet aroma. It’s my Kryptonite, my guilty pleasure. Once she draws near, I pin her to the bed, ignoring the soreness of the muscles I was supposed to be recuperating. “Jungkook?”

I snuggle into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent like some deranged pervert as I squeeze her hip. The closest description is like a honey-sweet fruit, ripe for picking. But fruit bruises easily when they fall into the wrong hands. And now she’s in mine.

She whimpers softly, and it only further fuels my arousal. “It shouldn’t be this easy yet your hold over me is… pathetic.”

I hover over her face and bring a hand up to squeeze her cheeks, forcing her lips to pucker. Cute. 

“Do you know what filthy things I want to do to you? I’ve been fantasizing for years about this moment,” I say, unable to contain my smirk. Her chest heaves against mine and the panic that flashes across her face is adorable. I loosen my grip a bit so she can reply. 

“Tell me then,” she breathes and I chuckle at how wobbly her voice sounds. 

“I wanna fuck you like I hate you. It’s not going to be that tender bullshit, I’m going to be rough. I’m going to use you and all your holes until you’re screaming and I’m the only one that occupies your thoughts, so you can see the hell you put me through when you left. I’m going to bring you to heaven only to drag you back down to Earth and make you sin harder.”

I can smell much more than fear coming from her silence. Her fingers are clutching what I can now see is a silver body chain. She’s fast, but I’m faster as I pin her wrist down before she can put it on me. Her hand is hanging over the edge of the bed and I grip her wrist, upping the pressure and twisting slightly until she groans in pain, dropping the chain. It falls with a soft clink and I give her an amused grin.

“Was that mediocre thing supposed to quell my urges?” I taunt.

“Ideally, yes,” she remarks, unable to hide her bratty attitude. “Let me put it on you.”

“No.”

She gives me a look like I’m a bad child about to be put on time-out. Maybe I want to be bad. “Jungkook.”

“Come on… you said it yourself. You want to help,” I use my thigh to part her legs. “I’m in desperate need of it.”

She scoots her body upwards to get away, but like a parasite, I latch on and follow, pressing my entire body weight on her. “Jungkook, no. You said no. This isn’t you.”

“Oh, but what if it is?” She stops squirming and my eyes widen like I’ve gone insane, glad to have her attention. “What if this dark, twisted, horny part of me is who I am? What if I want to ravage you and my rut is simply pushing me to finally not hold back on loving you?”

“You… love me?”

Somehow that question pulls me from the depths of lust for a split second. “I never stopped.”

There’s a silent period where we stare at each other. Sometimes I think we’d hold the world record for how long one can zone out, lost in a world of our own. But my needs resurface, clouding my mind with crazed lust. I’m corrupted by something I can’t control and no matter how hard I resist, she’ll be in the crossfire.

She must have noticed her small window of opportunity because she pushed me off with her inhumane strength. I bounce on the mattress when I land on my back as she scrambles to grab the chain off the floor. She makes a break for the door, but I block it, tackling her to the ground so I can feel her soft body against mine again. 

We tussle and roll around like animals, the chain flying across the floor during the scuffle. It’s a wild game of Capture The Flag, each of us diving for the coveted item. She’s on her stomach, crawling towards it until I take her ankles and drag her backward, cackling like a madman. And like in horror movies, she screams and squirms, kicking me until I let go. 

She drags her body forward, snatches the chain, flips around, and clamps her thighs around my head. Her strong muscles could probably break a watermelon, but I welcome the constriction.

“Ooh, yes, make it hurt,” I choke out, wheezing out a short laugh. Revulsion in her scowl, she cages me in tighter, and I pull back so she slides towards me. Using my remaining strength, I lift her so she’s now perched atop my shoulders, her sweet pussy right where I want it. I dart my tongue out to lick a stripe, the barrier of her leggings so thin that she yelps from the contact.

I’m on my knees and I move forward, pressing her back against the wall. It supports her weight and I pin her hands down, so she can’t sneak the chain on me. She’s shouting at me, but I only hum in return, so she can feel the vibrations of my lips close to her lower ones. 

“Jungkook, let me go!”

“I can already taste you… such arrogance to think you can handle me.”

I look up through her thighs, earning a sharp inhale from her. “Trust me… I’ve been holding back.”

She chants foreign words under her breath and my ears soon discover a sharp ringing noise, making my brain feel like it’s being shredded by a cheese grater. I hold my head with both hands, toppling over and releasing her as we both fall to the floor. When the cacophony subsides, I see she’s standing above me with the lamp. She’s ruthless as she smashes it against my head, the glass shards scattering everywhere. 

I lay on my stomach, dazed, and she put the chain on me hastily. It glows as it erases all forms of rage and lust, and my mind clears while my soul aligns. That’s when the painful sensations of my injuries I had ignored earlier hit me in full force. 

With impeccable timing, the door to our room swings open, and in comes Jin and Namjoon. Jin has his arms up in a fighting pose, his hands encasing two pink orbs prepared for attack. Namjoon has his crossbow gun pointed at me until [Y/N] waves him off with a dismissive gesture.

“You’re a bit late. Put it down.”

The orbs flicker out and Namjoon lowers his weapon, being the first to speak. “What happened?”

“Things got… rough. I put the chain on him. He’s fine now.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. “Can someone please get the first aid kit? I’m bleeding again…”

Your Point of View

Jin’s making it a point to be hospitable. He dragged you around the lodge, indulging you in all the amenities the lodge offers. From paying for your food and drinks to complimentary snowboarding, it was almost like he was overcompensating. 

While he was gracefully swerving down the hill, you spent most of your time falling face-first into the snow, frustrated at the bulky clothes you had on. You called it quits and he finally yielded to your pleas.

Back at the lodge, you shed yourself of your multiple layers, feeling like an onion. At least now you can caramelize by the fireplace in the lobby while sipping on a piping-hot cup of cocoa. 

Jin makes his presence known, plopping himself onto the same futon where you sat with a refreshed “Ah, hot cocoa. Delicious!”

You roll your eyes when he holds his mug out, but you clink your cup against his anyway. “I hope you and Namjoon had your fun in the shower. That’s a nasty hickey.”

He coughs, adjusting his turtleneck to cover up said blemish. “Sorry. I didn’t know you would need me.”

“It’s fine,” you say, glancing around for any unwanted spectators. You whisper the next part. “I grabbed your spellbook and did it myself.”

He bears a proud smile, looking like he is about to deliver well-deserved praises when suddenly, his expression falls. Setting down his beverage, he seemed rather pale despite being near the fireplace. He looks up at the night sky and you follow his gaze. “Oh shit…”

You set down your drink too, paying no mind as it sloshes enough to spill over. “Jin… what’s wrong?”

“It’s a full moon…”

“Yeah. And?”

He shoots up like a rocket and sprints upstairs to his room. You follow at once, off-put by his erratic behavior. He’s found his spellbook on the bed where you left it, flipping through the pages so quickly, you thought they’d rip. Once he settles on the desired section, he shoves the book in your face. 

“Is this the spell you used?!”

You eye the page in its fancy script, seeing the same picture of a wolf howling under the moon. “Yes. It says Binding Chain at the top and I read it. It suppresses a male’s rut.”

“Did you see the fine print?”

“There’s a fine print?” you echo. Skimming the page, you squint at the very bottom to see an anecdote at the bottom marked with an asterisk. You read it out loud. “On the night of a full moon, the binding chain’s powers are reversed. Rather than suppressing a rut, the male’s urges will be amplified…”

The book shuts and you’re greeted by Jin’s stern look. It’s the same one he gave you that time you set his hair on fire by accident. “The closer it gets to midnight, the more unhinged Jungkook will be. This is why you should’ve asked me for help.”

“How was I supposed to know? He was in pain and you were bumping uglies with Namjoon!”

“Spells like this are tricky, especially for novices. We don’t even know if you did it right.”

“Gee, thanks for the bode of confidence.”

A concerned voice from the doorway calls out to you and Jin. “Whoa, whoa, what’s going on here?”

You both turn to see Namjoon in his winter gear, covered in snow like he was a dessert dusted with powdered sugar. Jin walks over and brushes some off his furry hat. “[Y/N] used the wrong spell for Jungkook. His rut is about to come back tenfold and it won’t be pretty.”

“It’s not my fault,” you argue. “If you and he weren’t fucking each other, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Okay… this is horrible timing,” Namjoon says with a forced awkward laugh. Jin holds him by the shoulders.

“Honey… where’s Jungkook?”

“I… lost something important when we got here. Jungkook and I went out to look for it. I gave up, but he’s stubborn and is still out there.”

You look out the window and see the snowfall getting heavier, each flake larger and more frequent as it piles on the thick blanket that already covers the ground. Visibility was diminishing and you could barely see the outline of the moon in the sky. 

“I’m going to get him,” you say, determined. They look at you like you have three heads. “I’m the only one who can handle him on a night like this.”

“It’s dangerous. The snow is getting worse out there,” Namjoon warns.

“Yeah, and whose fault is it that he’s still out there? He may be immortal, but he has limits too.”

Namjoon recognizes your stubbornness; you share that with Jungkook. He pulls out his phone, hastily texts something, and sends it, which triggers a chime on your phone. 

“There’s a cabin out there that I use on my missions sometimes. You’ll find a cage in the basement that can hold Jungkook for the night. Food, water, clothes, sedatives, weapons—you name it.”

He offers you his crossbow gun, but you decline. “I can get through to him.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. But… It doesn’t feel right to hurt him. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Stay safe. We’ll come find you in the morning.”

Winter is the superior season, some would say. Because with the cold, you can layer clothes nonstop until you’re warm. Newsflash: that’s a lie. You’re freezing your ass off despite your best efforts to combat the frost, but Mother Nature couldn’t resist challenging your limits.  

The weather has taken a turn for the worse as snow swirls around you, making it difficult to see or hear anything. You trudge through it, the flame in your palm being the only source of light and heat as harsh gusts of wind threaten to extinguish it. 

Your magic was technically infinite, considering your necklace was a conductor for it. The jewelry siphons the magic from your hybrid body and allows you to use it like a witch would. However, like with most things, if you overdo it, it drains your energy and weakens its potency. 

When you reach the forest, the wind howls through the trees as your breath comes out in heavy puffs. Each step you take sinks deeper than the previous one until you’re knee-deep in snow. The ground is uneven and your steps slow because even the slightest misstep could be your last. With no one around for miles, this was not the way you wanted to go out. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but the flame flickers until darkness remains. 

“No… no… please…” You wrap your arms around yourself, the biting cold unforgiving. A rustle in the distance alerts your fight-or-flight and you scan your surroundings, seeing a dark silhouette who you can only assume is… “Jungkook?”

Whoever it was burst into a sudden sprint in the opposite direction. Your body has a mind of its own, chasing him down without hesitation. You reach a clearing where his broad back faces you, the moon casting a soft glow behind his figure. He turns around, revealing his ruby red eyes with streaks of gold, which sparkle like luster dust in water. 

His face is unreadable until you risk a step forward. 

“Don’t come closer!” he barks, startling you to retract back. The hurt in your eyes breaks him, but he couldn’t bear to be a burden for you to shoulder. “I feel like I’m going crazy. You shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s the full moon. The body chain is making things worse. I can—”

“No!” He bares his teeth and bends his knees as if preparing to pounce. “You need to leave. Now!”

Falling onto all fours, he lets out a strangled groan, cursing like there was no tomorrow. His bones snap, pop out of place, and lengthen to create a new foundation for his werewolf form. It was like all his organs were set ablaze, the searing pain shooting throughout his body. You deny his request and take another step. 

“Stay… away!” he orders, his voice roughed and strained.

His head hangs low, clawing the snow beneath him. Though shapeshifting was a great distraction, doing so during a rut could have unpredictable circumstances. It was far too dangerous; he knew better but was desperate for relief. 

“Run…” he breathes, lifting his head. Your legs tremble from his unwavering, lethal gaze. “Run!!!” His canines peek through when he growls at you once more and you are hit with the severity of the situation. Fear strikes through you like a javelin and combined with your rush of adrenaline, you escape the premises. 

Everything is a blur as you zig-zag through the snow-capped trees in the forest. You don’t stop running until your lungs burn to the point where you’re about to vomit. Despite how numb your fingers are, you check your phone, looking up the location of the cabin. It’s not too far away and if you can manage to lure Jungkook there, he’ll be safe for the night.

An eerie howl startles you and you trek forward, looking over your shoulder every so often. It’s not until you come across a line of forestry, where there’s a gap in the middle of two trees. Upon closer inspection, you squint at the darkness that sits between them, and two glowy orbs greet you. 

A low snarl sends chills up your spine as two black paws emerge into the moonlight before their true form follows. You’re face to face with the big black wolf, its eyes glowing with feral intensity. The body chain’s magic allowed for the accessory to enlarge, accommodating Jungkook’s new size. 

“Jungkook…”

He doesn’t respond, almost like that name was foreign to him. All he does is crouch, and you start to regret not having a weapon. With a growl, he lunges at you, powerful muscles rippling under his fur. You barely dodge in time, but his claws graze your arm, ripping through my coat and drawing blood. 

Damn. I’m getting sloppy. I need blood.

You clutch onto the wound, hissing at him as your eyes shift to fiery gold. “Stop! Jungkook, it’s me!”

He circles you like a shark, instilling more fear before he pounces again. His heavy weight forces your body to topple backward, the snow cushioning your fall, and soon stained a vivid crimson. Jungkook had bitten your shoulder this time, his fangs sinking deep. 

Not even your blood-curdling scream dissuades him from prying his jaw off. You feel the prick of tears behind your eye, but you push through it, using your remaining good arm to punch him. The wolf is hurled about twenty feet away and you force yourself up.

“Okay… it’s clear you’re more beast than man right now…” you say, panting as more blood trickles onto the snow. The wolf shakes its head and slowly rises, its predatory gaze stripping you of your fortitude. 

Just then a deep rumble beneath your feet alerts you to look up, where the heart of the mountain was. The signs are there: the snowpack drifting, ominous cracks in the ground, and a thunderous roar as snow cascades down the landform.

“Shit…” you say, running in the opposite direction. “Come on! Chase me!”

Thankfully you don’t have to ask twice. Jungkook’s hot on your trail as the snow is on his. The ground continues to shake, the avalanche's roar deafening, drowning out all other sounds. Both your lives are at stake and you run to the cabin up ahead, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

As you reach the door, you swipe the keycard Namjoon lent you, the faint click giving you a moment of reprieve. You throw the door open at the same time Jungkook tackles you from behind. You stumble forward, his weight crushing you as he slashes your back with his sharp claws. 

Now you’re pissed.

You flip onto your back, clutching his paws while his jaw snaps towards your face, spit flying everywhere. 

“God, Jungkook! Get a grip!” You grunt as you exert your muscles, throwing him into the living room area. A wooden table is smashed into bits and the TV screen has a crack down the middle, but you don’t care. You kick the door shut just as the avalanche slams into the ground outside, its force shaking the cabin walls. 

The noise is overwhelming, but it distracts the beast long enough for you to search for the basement. The cabin’s small space makes it easy as one narrow door sits in the corner, so you try your luck. There’s a set of steep, wooden stairs and you descend quickly, seeing dim recess ceiling lights that cast a soft yellow glow. 

Unlike the cabin, the basement was underground and wide, with ample space for the cage Namjoon had promised. It’s in the furthest left corner with thick chains attached to the floor and ceiling. A workbench greets you once you reach the last step, filled with various weapons and tranquilizers you were all too familiar with.

Due to his hybrid nature, your best bet is to grab the syringe with vervain and wolfsbane. Reassurance is but a fleeting moment when Jungkook descends the stairs too, determined to finish you off. 

He bites your leg this time, and you jam the syringe into his neck simultaneously. Once the wolf loses consciousness, you stumble backward and hit your head on the edge of the workbench, drifting into darkness.

Jungkook’s Point of View

Something wet touches my fingers and it stirs me awake. My muscles are screaming, feeling like I have been hit by a semi-truck. I open my eyes, forcing myself to sit up and look at my hands. 

“Oh my god…”

Red is all I see. I’m covered in it. My lips taste it. But I don’t remember how it got there and that scares me. However, I look over to see [Y/N]’s unconscious body next to me. The blood is hers, pooling from her head and her body looks like a corpse from a crime scene. I’m terrified now, crawling over to her while my body shakes. 

“No… please.” 

I saw the gruesome claw marks on her arm, the nasty bites on her shoulder and leg, and her head wound that was still bleeding. I lift her head first, then her back, seeing the scratches there too. I don’t know what to do other than hold her close, listening for signs of life. It’s faint, but she’s breathing. 

“Who did this to you?” I breathe, but the question is stupid. I’m covered in evidence of my crimes, a sin with no solution. Her face looks sickly, so I bite my wrist and put it against her lips, forcing her to drink my blood for sustenance. 

I choke out a sob when I don’t see a difference.

“I’m so sorry…” I kiss the top of her head, praying to anyone who hears it, to bring her back to me. 

“Jungkook…”

I thought I was hearing things until she calls for me again. It’s a fucking miracle. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to…”

“Shh… haven’t you heard of kissing a person’s boos-boos?” Her lips curl into a faint smile and I’m thrown for a loop. How can she speak so lightly about the horrors I’ve committed?

“You must have a concussion. I need to patch you up.”

“No. Kiss my wounds, silly. Just like you did to my head.”

I was too distraught to realize, but the blood on the rug we were on had vanished. Her hair no longer smells of iron either and realization dawns on me.

“Okay. Let me help you get out of your clothes first.”

It’s not a smooth process, but she handles it like a champ as I maneuver her coat, shirt, and tank top off. I pause every so often when she winces, making sure she’s comfortable before I move on. Her boots come off next and then her leggings, leaving her only in her undergarments. 

Lying her flat on her back, I get on top and kiss her shoulder area first. It’s a magical sight watching the wound seal itself as new skin regenerates while the blood evaporates. She coos at the relief, giving me a warm smile. 

“That feels nice.”

I head for her arm next, giving it several smooches to cover the claw marks. Each one repairs itself the same way. I lean back on my knees, holding her leg up until it reaches my lips and I leave another kiss there. Her eyes shimmer in excitement as do mine when the bite heals. 

“Can you turn around for me?” I ask. She gets on all fours, exposing her back to me. It was the nastiest injury yet, the laceration deep and red. I don’t care and kiss every inch of her skin until it goes away, noticing how she shivers each time. 

Once she’s fully healed, I see a cage in the corner and eye the chains inside. I get up and head there, frantically trying to get the cuffs on. She follows me and I curse at my shaky hands for being too slow. 

“What are you doing now?” she asks as if it’s not obvious.

“Damn it all, why can’t I get this on?!” She places her hands on mine, steadying them until they stop trembling. “[Y/N], please. I need to be chained up. It’s dangerous for you to be here, I almost killed you!”

“But you didn’t. I’m fine. I knew the risks.”

“Why didn’t you beat me senseless? I deserved it.”

She shakes her head, still able to give me a soft smile as if I didn’t try to maul her to death however long ago. “Because your rut… it’s not easy to deal with. And I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you. Besides, I messed up on the spell.”

She points to the body chain on me. “On a full moon, it amplifies your rut. Not suppress it.”

I drop the cuffs and grab the body chain instead, ready to yank it off when she snatches my wrists. 

“Don’t,” she orders. “I want it on.”

My eyes widen. “This thing almost got you killed.”

“It’s hot on you.”

“Are you okay? Is your head fully healed? Why are you—”

She pecks me on the lips to shut me up. It’s cute, sweet, and simple. Sometimes I wish we were simple. 

“Jungkook… ever since I saw you at the wedding, I haven’t been able to heal properly,” she confesses. 

My hands drop to my sides. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure. But whenever I got a cut, it healed but not as fast as it usually did. And I thought about when I got hurt at the wedding, how you kissed my hand, and how fast it healed then. This has never happened to me before, but I realized… I can’t be without you.”

She caresses the side of my face and I shiver at her gentle touch, placing a chaste kiss on her palm. “No… you were right to leave. I’m dangerous.”

A finger comes up to my lips. “Shh… our fates are entwined whether you like it or not, you stupid bastard,” I can’t help but chuckle and she giggles. It lights up my world. “When you said you never stopped loving me back at the lodge… were you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Her expression is teetering between fondness and confusion. “Sorry, that’s not romantic, huh?”

“It is to me. I love you too.”

Her confession triggers something in me. It's a carnal, animalistic need and I realize my rut is surging back with renewed intensity. 

“My love, I need you to make a choice,” I say with labored breathing. Sweat coats my hair, matting it to my forehead. My body feels like I’m being incinerated inside out. “I want you permanently. Not temporarily. Body and soul. Your devotion. If you stay…”

“I’ll stay. I promise,” she says without a trace of hesitation. But I can’t help but be reminded of the past.

“How do I know you won’t leave again?”

She ponders her answer but then says, “Because when I’m not focused on my future, I’m focused on ours.” 

It brings me immense joy, but my lust drowns it out. 

“Okay. We’re going to need a safe word. Or you need to promise you’ll defend yourself against me by any means if it becomes too much.”

“Jungkook—”

“I mean it. Because everything I said at the lodge was true. Everything.”

She wets her lips at the memory, which tempts me with depravity. “Are you okay if I’m still infertile?”

“I never minded it. Because I’m going to fuck you like I’m gonna breed you anyway.” 

She nods. “... Red.”

“Red,” I repeat and then I’m all over her.

Your Point of View

Jungkook lunges at you, his movements a blur of desperate need. You’re pressed against the iron bars of the cage as he kisses you like he’ll devour you whole. His hands roam your body to tear off your bra and panties, and you gasp, but he swallows it by kissing you deeper.

His hands are greedy, kneading your breasts in circular motions. He twists one of your nipples with his forefinger and thumb, the sensation borderlining pain and pleasure, but you succumb to it. Especially when he stops kissing you to lower himself, sucking on your other nipple. He doesn’t hold back and tugs on it between his teeth, earning a mewl from you. 

When he pulls back, he releases it with an audible pop before giving the other one the same treatment. Your hands run through his hair, gripping hard enough to make him moan with hunger. He pushes your breasts together, so he’s able to suck both nipples simultaneously. The sight enraptures you, and you swear he’s the most attractive man alive. 

“I can’t wait, I need you now. I need you many… many times tonight,” he says after he’s left several purple constellations in his wake. You’re turned around, holding onto the bars for support as his bicep slithers around your neck. His lips find purchase on the shell of your ear. “God, I want to destroy you.”

He slips his thick cock in between your thighs, feeling the copious amount of slickness between your folds. He thrusts back and forth and you rock your hips in tandem, appreciating his restraint. Each time his tip brushes against your clit, you moan to the ceiling while he groans against your neck. 

You’re sensitive, on the brink of an orgasm, but Jungkook comes first. White spurts of cum spill out from his tip, and he shudders when you use your hand to coax out more. 

“Fuck, I can’t hold on anymore. I’d do more to prep you, but I can’t wait. I’m sorry.” 

Despite coming already, Jungkook was still fully erect. You swore he might’ve even gained an inch. He was deliciously massive, blessed in both girth and length. 

“It’s okay. I can take it,” you assure. 

“If it’s too much?”

“I say red.”

Jungkook holds onto your hips and pulls you back, your body now parallel to the floor at a ninety-degree angle. You arch your back and stick your ass out for him, even going far as to shake your peach to tantalize him. Without needing to guide it, he slams his dick into you with such violence that it leaves you winded. 

He wastes no time thrusting, his pace desperate, rushed, and greedy to satisfy an insatiable hunger. You’re holding onto the bars for dear life as he fucks you like it’s his last day on Earth. There’s a burn that comes with not having time to adjust to his inhumane size, but you endure. Lust covers a world of hurt and the stretch ignites a fervor. 

The basement is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin and unabashed moaning. Jungkook grips your hips so tight, they bruise. He smacks your ass multiple times, each sting resulting in a tighter clench from your soaking pussy, which drives him wild.  You love how he stretches you out, how he’s using you like a dumb fucktoy for his cravings. You want to please him because it pleases you. 

Without warning, he pistons into you faster, and you can barely see straight. His last thrust is sharp and calculated, a rough grunt escaping him as he empties himself into you. Your legs are trembling when he pulls out, admiring how his cum oozes out of you. 

Sliding down to the ground, you rest your back against the cage and close your eyes to catch a break. However, Jungkook smacks your cheeks a couple of times to get your attention. He’s erect again, no surprise. You swear with each orgasm, he’s getting bigger. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

He places a hand on your head, guiding your lips to his throbbing cock. It’s coated in shared body fluids, but you open your mouth like an automated response until he slides himself in. You gag when he hits the back of your throat and he pulls out, but not all the way. You have to mentally prepare yourself for what comes next as he grabs ahold of both sides of your head, fucking your face as he pleases. 

You’re choking and saliva dribbles down to your breasts, your eyes sting with tears, but he keeps going and you take the abuse. He doesn’t hold your head lovingly. Rather, his hand cages you in, guiding you however he sees fit. Your jaw is sore, but that’s a small price to pay when you have the most gorgeous man throwing his head back in bliss because of you. 

Once his hips stutter and he comes again, you swallow the slightly bitter fluid and he releases you.

“Get up.”

You’re a bit dizzy, so he helps you to your feet. You see him squat and bring your legs atop his shoulders. In one swift motion, he stands with you perched atop and you squeal, holding his head in fear of falling. 

“Jungkook!”

“Hold onto the cage.”

You don’t question him and do just that, thinking about how this was the same way you took down your opponent back at the farm. However, the only danger here was Jungkook having you right where he wanted you.

He sticks his tongue out and begins lapping up your juices from earlier. You’re unable to process being suspended in the air while getting eaten out at the same time. It’s thrilling, and you almost sob when he invades your walls and tongue-fucks you. The slurping noises that leave him are obscene. It’s as if you were his last meal, which only coaxes out more arousal. It’s too much when your orgasm nears, but he grabs your ass tighter and everything snaps.

You’re screaming his name, rolling your eyes in the back of your head. Your ears ring, your toes curl, and you shut your eyes to ride the waves of bliss. You don’t even realize when you’re back on the ground because it feels like you’re not even on the same planet anymore. 

And suddenly you’re in the air again. Jungkook grabs the underside of your thighs and lifts you, your legs perched around his waist and your hands around his neck. He uses one hand to guide his tip to your entrance, and your breath hitches. 

“We’re not done yet.”

“I never want you to be. Use me.”

He sinks you onto his cock, bouncing you like a rag doll. You hold each other close, staring intensely into each other’s eyes. Everything burns inside Jungkook’s body. His thighs, his arms, his heart—but that pain fuels him to fuck you harder. You kiss him first this time, inserting your tongue and sliding it against his. It’s sloppy but erotic, and he only ups his speed. 

He doesn’t last long and comes again, but you wait until he decides to put you down. You’re on your back now and he places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“God, I wanna fill you up again. Breed you until you’re exhausted.”

He has hold of your ankles, bringing them up high until your knees hug your chest as he inserts himself again. You can see his fat cock going in and out of you, his cock creamy and white from your slick. Your tummy bulges with each thrust, but the nightmarish visual is, somehow, incredibly sexy. He makes you feel full, yet you can’t seem to get enough. 

“Fuck, how are you still going?” you whimper. He chuckles like he’s flattered, lowering your legs so he can lay flat on top, chest to chest. You’re both sweaty and reek of sex, but it feels right. 

“Because you’re my soulmate. I’m going to ravish you.” 

Hours pass. He’s more beast than man at this point, almost unrecognizable. This wasn’t making love. He was determined to fuck your brains out. 

Every position imaginable, no part of your body went unexplored. If you were a country, he was a sergeant invading every part of you. You’re bruised and full of bloody scratches, but so was he. 

Whenever you were nearing the possibility of passing out, he found a way to give you a break. Whether by humping your thighs again or using your hands, he didn’t care. You’re soaked in his cum, a sticky, filthy mess that he deemed beautiful. He took pride in his work like you were his canvas for a Jackson Pollock painting. 

His boundless energy inspired him to get creative, making use of the cage’s chains. He had you dangle from the ceiling as he fucked you from the front. From the back. In your ass. 

If he thought you were tight before, your ass was a whole other story. You’d never taken something so big. It took a while for you to relax and though lube was ideal, the copious amounts of cum he filled you with earlier worked fine. More than fine. Something about him shoving his two fingers in you to draw out his cum to finger your asshole felt lecherous. You swore you were going to tear in half, but when his tip brushed sweet spots you didn’t know existed, you came harder than the previous times.  

Now you are on all fours, his hand in your hair, locking you in the humiliating position. He penetrates deep inside, loving the way your ass jiggles every time your bodies meet. You’ve been reduced to a moaning mess, unable to think about anything but his cock. 

You’re saying “Yes, yes, yes!” but the words are slurred, reduced to pure nonsense, thanks to his brutal movements. His thrusts are merciless, repeatedly hitting you in that sweet spot with no signs of slowing down unless he changes positions. 

“Fuck, this is it,” he grunts. He carefully pulls out, lies on his side, and brings you close so you’re on your side too. Lifting your leg, he slides into you again and resumes penetration. This time when he comes, you can see your belly expand from how much he fills you up. His monstrous cock swells and you whine from the discomfort, feeling like you’re about to pop. 

“It hurts,” you cry. Jungkook cuddles you as his knot takes form, ensuring no cum spills out. 

“I know, love. It’ll be okay.” He litters your neck with kisses to distract you from the pain until you’re used to his new size. You’ve never felt so full and can’t believe you’re stuck like this for who knows how long. It’s a phony moment of reprieve, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once the pain subsides, you lay there as he hugs you, feeling his chest on your back. He holds your hand, intertwining his fingers in yours. You take this chance to look at his tattoos, noticing one stand out in particular. 

“What’s this?” you ask.

You’re pointing to a tattoo of a lake with mountains that have a full moon situated between them on his forearm.

“Oh, that? It’s where I first fell for Namjoon when he sparred with me.” His playful lilt makes you pout.

“Hey…” 

Jungkook kisses your shoulder and grins. “That’s where I first fell for you, silly. And where I fell for you again the night of the wedding. I contemplated getting rid of it, but… I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Aw…” A question pops into your mind that you’ve been dying to ask. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why did you have vervain on you that day? Why carry the burden of knowing?”

He hums like he was expecting that question. “Because I know you too well and maybe… I wanted to keep that pain because it was my last link to you. I couldn’t give that up.” He turns your face so you’ll look up at him. “I love you, [Y/N].”

Saying those three words back again didn’t feel like enough. He was your one and you wanted to spend eternity with him.

“Mark me. Make me yours for good.”

His doe eyes form an OJO face, which earns a laugh from you. Despite all that’s happened, this manages to surprise him. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, and you allow him to mark you as his. 

The next morning you and Jungkook are cleaned up, cuddling by the fireplace in the living room area. 

“Why is there a saxophone over there?” you ask, pointing to the random instrument near the door.

“You know what… I’m not sure.” Jungkook gets up, walks over to it, and picks it up. The face he makes while examining it is endearing, but you’re curious when he reaches his hand in the bell of the instrument. “I feel something.”

He pulls out something small, but you recognize the diamond instantly. “Is that a wedding ring?”

His face morphs into panic. “It’s not for you,” he blurts. You giggle and approach him, swiping the ring. 

“I know that, silly. You wouldn’t propose to me here.”

He visibly relaxes, rubbing the back of his nape, cheeks flushed. “It’s Namjoon’s.”

“Oh! Is this what he asked you to help him find? Is he going to propose to Jin? How sweet!”

A strange hissing noise distracts you two, and you turn your attention to the window. The snow from the avalanche is melting rapidly and soon, the door opens, revealing the couple you were just talking about.

“We’re here!” Jin shouts with his arms out in a ta-da position. 

“Again… you’re a little late,” you tease. Namjoon strides in, taking a look at the damage you two inflicted in the small space. 

“Geez… what did you two do?”

“What didn’t we do?” Jungkook says, giving you a wink. You can only laugh as you playfully hit his shoulder. 

The clothes the cabin had were a size too big on you, so they drooped on your small frame. Namjoon and Jin are quick to notice the bite mark on your exposed shoulder and how it solidified into something akin to a tattoo.

“Oh… Oh,” Jin says, realization hitting him as his ears turn red. “Congratulations!”

“Well, we should congratulate you too,” Jungkook says, giving Namjoon a pointed look. The man is confused at first, but then nods once he feels you slip the metal item into his palm. He’s ecstatic and immediately grabs the saxophone. You and Jungkook grin while his rather awkward proposal plays out, with Jin mostly unaffected and choosing to criticize his partner’s clothing choices instead.

“Hey! I practiced hard for you and you only talk about my clothes?!” Namjoon says, but the smile he wears lets you know he’s not hurt. Jin laughs and hugs him.

“I’m touched!”

Namjoon finally gets down on one knee and pops the question. “Will you marry me then?”

Now Jin’s entire face is flushed. “Oh my god… of course, my gentle giant.”

Jungkook and you give each other a knowing look, wondering when your turn will come next. He holds your hand and you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“That’ll be us someday,” he says.

“I know. But I’m not in a rush. I’m already yours.”

General A/N: Hello!!! Thank you for reading until the end. I appreciate reblogs and asks if you wanna share your thoughts. 💘

Moonstruck Readers A/N: So for those who are curious, I was going to include NamJin’s wedding where Taehyung shows up and he sees OC and JK together. And that could lead to a whole other spiral of feelings. ;) But I’m not promising to write it. This is their happy ending and OC and JK do get married eventually. 

Or if you’re like my friend who keeps saying TaeKook should both be with OC, well, that’s in another universe I guess. LOL!

[neverevergonnaletbtsgo]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Nine

Summary: Filling in Grey on everything that happened came with a rude awakening but you calm yourself down like you always do...even if it's to your detriment Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 5.1k~ Warnings: Explicit language and a heated discussion that talks about death and not grieving their lost love ones (idk how else to put it) a/n: Barely edited per usual 😅 Start from the beginning

Jimin goes home after I insist on making him breakfast, using it as a sort of apology for last night. He assures me he didn't mind while giving me a tentative hug goodbye and leaves before he can see my reaction. 

I smile as I watch him scurry off and catch a glimpse of a rosy blush on his cheeks. That boy is way too easy to read and it's so endearing but I just hope he'll learn soon that not everyone has the purest of intentions at heart. 

I finally take the time to look through my notifications after cleaning up the mess left over from breakfast and out of habit I search for a sign of life from Jungkook but come up empty handed. 

I did ask him for space but I didn't realize how much I was going to miss the simplest things like a good morning text or a funny video left in my DMs.

I push past those feelings and check the notifications I do have and see a few from Grey and a message from Jin letting me know that he got home safe as well as a good morning text to check in on how I'm doing. 

I reply, being completely honest with him and let him know  that I'm feeling pretty down today, but leave out the events that happened after he dropped me off. I'll tell him eventually but I don't want to burden him with it or have him accidentally tell Jungkook. 

We both need time to ourselves and bringing him in after I told him I need space is gonna be way too confusing for the both of us.

My uncle texts me right after I close my messages with Jin asking me if I can come in to cover someone's shift and I groan at the thought of it. It's late at night though and Grey's gonna be there so I reluctantly agree. I need to tell her everything anyways so might as well get paid to do it. 

Jimin texts me later to check on me and asks if I wanted him to come over tonight. I let him know that I'm gonna be working late so I'll be fine but he jumps at the opportunity of accompanying me to work and he doesn't take no for an answer. Laughing at his antics I let him know what time I'm leaving and he says he'll wait for me outside. 

I decide to take the rest of the day to clean up my apartment and get some laundry done. 

Going through my room I grab my dirty clothes basket and take it over to my washer and dryer and as I'm placing the basket down on the floor next to them I hear my phone ringing in my room. I answer it but before I can even say 'Hello' I'm already being cut off.

"What crawled up Jungkook's ass and died?" classic Grey, I think to myself.

"Yeah about that..." I start but trail off.

"Luna, what did you do?" she asks in a serious tone clearly sensing that something big happened between us.

"What time do you start work tonight?" I question hoping she has time to come over beforehand since there's no way she's waiting for me to tell her tonight.

"I'm only working four hours tonight so I start at the same time you do" she says filling me in on the rest of the information my uncle left out.

"Can you come over?"

"Shit it's that bad huh?" she says before continuing with a quick "Yeah I'll be there in 15" but knowing her she'll be here in 30.

I thank her and she hangs up the phone, quickly getting ready to come over since I know the suspense is killing her. 

I dig through the basket and throw my laundry in but notice that the shirt at the bottom is Jungkook's. I start thinking about the past few days we spent together and I can't help but worry about him, wanting to know how he's feeling. 

Before I crack and try to reach out to him I throw the shirt in and close the lid in an effort to close off those thoughts as well. After starting the washer I send Jimin a quick text letting him know that I'll be going to work with Grey so he won't need to come pick me up. He offers to walk with the both of us but I assure him we'll be fine. 

We end the conversation there and he tells me to stay safe and lets me know he'll stop by the store later to give me pepper spray. I decline but he said he already bought it and it's nonrefundable so I laugh and tell him to come around 10.

I'm pulled out of the conversation by the sound of Grey punching in the code and swinging my front door open. "What did you do?" she asks immediately, throwing away the possibility of me distracting her with small talk. 

"Why do you assume I'm the one who did something?" I say as a weak defense. "Because you're always the one who did something" she says giving me a knowing look and I can't help but nod my head in agreement knowing that she's right for the most part. 

"Okay but this time it wasn't like that" I say continuing to defend myself. "This is gonna take a while" she says walking over to the couch and plopping down onto her spot. "So, what happened?" she says getting tired of the momentary silence. "You know how Jungkook and I got together the other night?" she nods her head encouraging me to continue. "Well he kinda sorta told me he's in love with me".

Her jaw drops momentarily before jumping in "He told you? Why didn't he tell me he was gonna tell you? After all of these years of keeping his secret and he doesn't even tell me! That's fucked up man" she says with a look of utter betrayal. 

"Wait, he told you?" I ask, completely shocked that even she had known. "Girl he didn't even have to tell me. He's been in love with you since before I met you guys. But yes, he told me like sophomore year of high school or something like that" she admits. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" I question feeling slightly betrayed. "Do you tell me everything Jungkook has ever told you?" she questions crossing her arms over her chest. "Well...no" I say in defeat. "Exactly, you guys have your secrets and him and I have ours. To be fair most of ours were pretty much about you but I guess since it's not a secret anymore we don't really have any" she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Did you really not know?" she continues. "No! I had no clue! I mean, I always knew that we were close but I always told myself that he didn't like me like that" I admit. "Well then you're more clueless than I thought you were" she says while picking up her phone to check the time. I let out a slight groan and cross my arms over my chest, already haven beat myself up about all of this. 

"Girl, that man has been following you around like a lovesick puppy ever since you guys were kids" I grow silent having a few memories flash through my mind of when he really did show that he liked me and as much as I hate to say it there have been a lot of them. 

"So, what happened after that?" she prods further. "Well I sorta freaked out on him and had a panic attack" I say rubbing my neck. "You did?" she cringes gaining secondhand embarrassment and I nod my head, mortified that I have to live through it and talk about it again. I see almost a look of pity in her eyes but it's gone in a flash and is replaced with curiosity, silently waiting for me to continue.

"He got worried and told me that I didn't have to say anything, so we just stargazed for the rest of the night. We went back to his place after we were done and nothing really happened. He said something to me when he thought I was sleeping though. Something like 'I know you're hiding something from me and I wish you would let your guard down'" I relay and he nods her head, thinking about what he could possibly mean but also knowing that she's been feeling the same way. 

"I hate that he can read me like that. I can never hide anything from him but I guess that just shows how well he knows me. Same with you" I finish off, poking her bicep. "Hey, it's not my fault you forced me to be friends with you" she says rubbing her arm. "Oh come on it's not that bad" I tease. 

"Yeah yeah whatever, but what I wanna know is why Jungkook has gone all moody on me. I texted him because I wanted to see what happened with the whole stargazing thing and all he responded with was 'I don't know ask y/n' and I was like 'Shit you used her government name? What the fuck did she do?' and he left me on read". "He said that?" I say feeling somewhat downtrodden. "Yeah..." she says trailing off.

I take a deep breath and decide to tell her the whole story about what happened yesterday...

"So yeah we're not really on speaking terms at the moment" I end after filling her in on everything. 

"Shit, that's heavy" she says under he breath, "I know. I've been over thinking this whole thing but this is Jungkook we're talking about. I don't want to lose him if things go wrong" I say feeling myself getting choked up at the thought. 

"Luna you're not gonna lose him, that boy loves you way too much to let you go" she says while rubbing my back trying to reassure me. "You know everyone keeps telling me that but none of us really knows what Jungkook is gonna do except for Jungkook! It's seems like it was pretty easy for him to shut me out right away so what's stopping him from just disappearing? Grey I'm fucking terrified, and I really don't know what the fuck I'm doing" I say, reaching my breaking point.

"Oh yeah, and then on top of all of that I guess I have a fucking stalker now" I say letting out a laugh dripping in sarcasm. Grey looks at me clearly confused and all I can do is nod towards the envelope on the table. 

She picks it up and gives me a questioning glance before she empties out the contents on the table. The frown on her face keeps on getting deeper and deeper with every picture she sees. 

"Luna, what the fuck?" is all she says waiting for me to explain. "Yesterday when I came back home from the whole fiasco with Jungkook, this was waiting for me on my doorstep. No one was in the hall, and no one was on the street outside" I explain plainly. "Do you think one of your neighbors did it?" she questions picking up some of the pictures that she's in. 

"Maybe? I don't really know though, I haven't had a chance to really process it, let alone think about who it could be" I pause for a second when she gets distracted with a picture of Jungkook and I kissing. 

"I asked Jimin to come over last night" I say nervously, not knowing how she'll respond. "Jimin? You mean that kid that came into the store the other day? Don't tell me you guys-" "No! No, nothing like that" I say cutting her off. 

"When I opened the envelope up for the first time I started to freak out you know, the whole nine yards. I meant to call Jungkook because he's the one who, well you know, the one who usually helps me get through it but when I went and clicked on my most recent texts I guess Jimin was close enough to Jungkook that I accidentally called him" she nod along, understanding the situation and waits for me to continue.

"I told him I called him on accident but I was already too far gone that he could tell something was wrong. He offered to come over, and I said yes. Thinking about it now, it might've not been the best decision" I admit and she cringes, a clear sign that she agrees with me.

"He knows about Jungkook now... more than I would've liked him to" I say picking up a picture of Jungkook and I from when he came over the other night. "What are you gonna do?" she asks trying to figure out where my head's at. "What can I do? My best friend is in love with me, and tells me at the same time a new guy conveniently walks into my life. Now I'm confused because I already started to like Jimin, but Jungkook and I have so much history and that's the problem. I love Jungkook, I've loved him for years but I pushed those romantic feelings to the side because I thought it was hopeless to even try. Everything is just so confusing and I keep on telling myself that and everyone that talks to me knows it's my excuse as well. I feel like the world is caving in on me and I don't know why. I have two guys who have a crush on me, big deal" I say sarcastically, letting out a shaky breath. 

"It's so stupid and I don't know why I'm taking things so seriously" I let out, tired of holding it all in. "I wish everything would just stop so I could catch my fucking breath" I finish ending my rant for the moment. "I think I know why everything is hitting you harder than usual" Grey says trying to bring me back down from the fit I've worked myself into. I look at her expectantly waiting for her to continue but I wasn't prepared for what she said next.

"The anniversary just passed didn't it?" hearing it now makes me feel stupid, seeing as she found the cause for all of this pent up anxiety so quickly. 

"I guess I forgot..." I lie but she won't let me gloss over it. "No for fucks sake Luna you didn't! I know you like to go around and pretend like everything is fine but you can't just forget about what happened to them. Keeping all of these things to yourself isn't going to magically make it all go away. Your parents died Luna, don't you think they at least deserve to be acknowledged?" she finishes the lecture she gives me every year and I never know how to respond. 

"When was the last time you went to their grave?" she asks in a softer tone. I shake my head and wipe away the tears that are threatening to fall "I don't know" I say getting choked up. "I know you would like to think that you've moved past that part of your life and that you've healed but in all the years I've know you, you really haven't given yourself time to do anything about it" she says taking a hold of one of my hands. 

"I love you, you're my best friend and I want to be there for you but there's only so much I can do. At the end of the day you're the only one that can choose to heal".I know she's right, fuck she is so right but I can't bring myself to fall apart like that. If I do...well then I don't know what'll be left of me. 

I've dealt with this pain bubbling under the surface for so long, giving fake smiles and crying behind closed doors, but just enough to be able to force that fake smile again. The only ones who have ever really brought out that true smile have been Jungkook and Grey. Without them, I don't know who I would be, or if I would even be here anymore. 

"I can't do it" I let out just loud enough for her to hear, tears free falling. "Why can't-" "Because I don't know how!" I say raising my voice at her. "There's too much, too fucking much that I just... I don't know how to let it all out. I feel like if I do I'll shatter into a million pieces and I'm afraid that the next time I look in the mirror, I won't recognize myself. I've been like this for so long that I don't think I could put myself back together again once I fall apart" I choke out and stop to catch my breath.

"Don't you want to let all of that go?" she tries but I can't accept that. "That's all I have left!" I yell through a sob. "That's all I have left of them, the pain, the trauma, that's all I fucking have left of them. Call me sick but holding it all in feels like I'm holding onto the broken pieces that they left behind. If I let that go... then there's nothing left" I finish trying to wipe off all the tears that were streaming down my face, only letting go for just a second like I always do. 

"I have no memories from before the accident, everything is gone. All the times we spent together and the love that they gave me, it's all gone. It's been suppressed for so long that sometimes I don't even remember what they looked like" I say looking up at the ceiling and blinking back the rest of the tears before they have a chance to fall again. "I only have one picture of them here and I put it in a drawer because I can't bring myself to look at them without falling apart again".

Grey takes a moment to think and I take that chance and get up to grab us both a bottle of water from the fridge, slowing my breathing and trying to calm myself down. 

"I didn't know..." she trails off, not knowing where she should take this. "No one does, not even Jungkook" I say curtly not wanting to elaborate further but she presses anyway hoping I'll let her in a little more. 

"But didn't he meet you right after it happened? You guys didn't talk about it when you were kids?" she asks but I shake my head. "Jungkook wasn't like that when we were little. He knew I was hurting but he never pressed me to talk about it. I would open up to him sometimes but he knew my limits and he didn't want to push past them. Once we got older he talked to me about therapy a few times but I always brushed it off saying I was fine and that I was just feeling a little sad that day and we would drop the conversation" I explain. 

"He seems pretty pushy with you though, or at least from what I've seen" she says tilting her head, confused at the explanation I've given. "He makes me open up and talk about other things sometimes but when it comes to my parents or my family in general he tends to leave it alone. I'm pretty sure he knows I need professional help to unpack all of that shit" I chuckle dryly. 

"But you still don't want to go? I could go with you if you want" she offers but I shake my head, "Jungkook has said the same thing to me many, many times and I also told him no so can we just drop it, please?" I ask, taking a drink of water to break up the conversation and luckily she complies, taking a drink of her's as well.

We sit there in silence for a bit before I decide to break the built up tension thats been created between us. "Well," I say patting my thighs before standing up and clearing my throat, "why don't we get out of here? There's this new place that Jimin took me to the other night and I wanna show you!" I say quickly changing the subject. 

She shakes her head at me and rolls her eyes "Yeah, but you're paying" she says, standing up and grabbing her bag to go. "Fine, but give me like ten minutes to get ready and then we'll go" I say and rush into my room to get dressed while she lets out a big sigh of annoyance and slouches back down onto the couch. 

Going into the bathroom to brush my teeth I notice how bloodshot my eyes are from all the crying so I quickly open the cabinet behind the mirror and search for my eye drops, hoping they will soothe the burning sensation that had been a natural consequence of showing more emotion than I had planned to. 

I blink a few times after I apply them, letting the drops settle in my eyes and wipe away the excess before brushing my teeth and washing my face hopefully getting rid of the red tint thats still splayed on my face and dry off before getting dressed for the day.

Stepping outside the building was a lot more jarring than I had anticipated, feeling the violent urge to look over my shoulder every few seconds but I do my best to shake off those feeling and focus on getting to the subway station. I try to keep a constant conversation going with Grey about her new kitten Smokey and how he's been driving her nuts to distract me from it all and for now it seems to be working. 

"If I would've known how difficult it would be to take care of a kitten I would've gotten a goldfish instead" she huffs as we get off at our stop but when we start to walk towards the exit I see a figure lurking in the shadows as we pass by and my body goes stiff in response. I'm only brought back once Grey pulls on my arm to keep going, trying to get us out of the busy stairwell. 

I follow her wordlessly until we get to the top of the steps and it's then when she takes in my body language. "You okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost" she says with a crooked smile. "I thought I saw someone watching us so I got a bit spooked but it was probably just my imagination" I say physically shaking off those feelings. "Come on, the cafe is just around the corner" I say now switching rolls, with me now pulling her along instead.

It's pretty easy to spot the place as it's the only one that's doused in a violet hue and I get even more giddy the closer we get. 

"This place has pretty much become once of my favorite places in the city" I say proudly even though I've only been once. "Bora?" Grey says unamused, "As in Purple?" she asks and I nod my head while dragging her in, secretly hoping she'll love the place too. "Very creative" she says still criticizing the name of the establishment but I don't take it to heart. She's never the type to get excited about cute or themed anything so I'm not phased by her reaction. 

Once we make it past the entryway and are greeted with the ever glowing neon lights is when her interest starts to peak. "I'm surprised it's not one of those girly fairy like cafes you've taken me to in the past" she says as she roams around on her own, checking out the interior and I smile knowing that deep down inside she's loving it. 

"I'll go get us some drinks, are you hungry?" I ask and she nods and continues to make her way over to the records displayed in the far corner that I failed to notice before. Seeing as music has been a big interest of hers since before we had met I'm not surprised to already see her flipping through their collection and messing around with the record player.

Making my way over to the counter I place our order and head back to pick out a table close to where she seems to be still tinkering with the poor thing. 

"You know it's probably more for show than anything else" I say teasingly and she sits down with a silent huff confirming my suspicions. "You could always ask them if they ever thought about getting a real one" I suggest but she waves off the idea. 

"Too much of a bother" she says and shrugs her shoulders "They've got a pretty good sound system in here anyways so I'm sure they don't plan on it. The records they have are cool though" she says while letting her eyes wander around the rest of the place. 

"Well then they must have good taste if even you like them" I say before someone joins our conversation making me jump. "I guess that would be me" a charming guy with a purple apron says as he walks over with our order. "You like Deftones?" Grey asks giving him a once over."Is that so hard to believe?" he says with a sideways smile but before Grey has a chance to open her mouth to utter something that I'm sure would come off as harsh I jump in changing the subject. 

"Oh um, we didn't order those" I says glancing down at the pair of lilac macarons "It's on the house" he says giving me a smile while placing it on the table along with the rest of our order. "It's new to the menu so let me know what you think" he says giving us a shallow bow and tucking his tray under his arm before he walks back over to the counter.

"He was cute" I say to which she responds with narrowing her eyes at me, clearly meaning that she thinks the same. 

"What, no insults? You usually say 'Ew he looks like a piece of gum that's been stuck to the bottom of a garbage man's shoe' or 'He looks like how the sewer smells' or the dozens of other insults you've thrown out whenever I've pointed out a guy to you" I continue with a teasing smile grabbing one of the macarons left in between us. 

"This one isn't too bad though" she mumbles under her breath. "I'm sorry what was that? I couldn't hear you" I say continuing to embarrass her even more. "Shut up" she says copying me and throws the whole pastry in her mouth, her eyes widening when she takes in the flavor and lets out a groan. 

"Shit these are good!" she says, clearly sad there isn't another one. "I could go order more if you'd like?" I say making moves to stand up but she grabs my hand and pulls me back down into my seat. "It's fine we've got other stuff here already. By the way, what the fuck did you order me?" she says glancing at the beverage that was placed in front of her.

Yours is called 'The Stars' and it's a lavender lemonade with a splash of butterfly pea tea and popping lychee boba. Mine is called 'Rain' and its a black cherry iced tea" I say taking a sip of my more conservative dark purple drink compared to her bright colorful one, both in stark contrast to our personalities. 

"Why'd you have to get me the girly one?" she grumbles taking a sip of the purple concoction, surprised at how much she's enjoying yet another one of the menu items. "Because I knew that you would like it...even if you didn't want to admit it" I say with a sideways smile before taking a glance down at my phone seeing a message from Jin.

'What's got you feeling so blue?'  he asks, hoping not to sound too pushy.

'Just Jungkook stuff. I still haven't made up my mind but I'm worried about him, he's never blown up on me like that so I feel like something else might be wrong' I send quickly before placing my phone face down and cutting the croissant I got us in half, smiling at the huckleberry filling cross section. 

"They really wont let up on this purple theme huh?" Grey scoffs with a shake of her head taking half of it for herself. "I guess not" I say laughing at her clear disgust with the mystery substance but takes a bite anyways trusting my judgement. 

"Well I guess it wasn't a huge chore coming here seeing as everything here tastes alright" she says, admitting that I have good taste this time around. 

"Wow high praise? Looks like someone woke up on the right side of the bed today" I say never letting up on the teasing. She's always teasing me mercilessly at work so I don't feel bad poking fun at her today. Gotta take the opportunities when I can. 

"I take it back you have shit taste" she says trying to fight back. "Nope what's done is done, can't back peddle now" I say  playing coy and she finally accepts defeat, slouching back into her seat, her preferred state of being in almost all situations.

After finishing up Grey heads towards the exit while I place our dishes in the designated bin. 

"Everything was amazing and those macarons were to die for!" I say fulfilling his request for our impressions. "I'm glad you liked them! Here take a few more for the road" he says bagging up two more. 

"Oh I couldn't possibly take those! You already gave us the other ones for free" I say shaking my head no. "Well I've already boxed them up so they can't go back in the case. It would be a shame to waste them" he says and now I am on the receiving end of his coy antics. 

"Well, thank you" I say as he places the small box in the palm of my hand but I quickly slip a few dollars into the tip jar before leaving with a shy smile. "Come back again soon...both of you" he says clearly telling me he's curious about Grey without telling me. "Don't worry we will" I say and wave him off before running out the door to catch up with Grey. 

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