#BTS author

[jungshookz]

y/n seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger and to be quite frank, namjoon's unimpressed

➺ pairing; professor!namjoon x y/n 

➺ genre; mostly sfw with a little something something at the end!! namjoon is a philosophy professor who suddenly has to share his precious lecture hall newbie professor y/n!! we all know i am a big fan of enemies to lovers/opposites attract and i love it even more when both of them are total nerds!! y/n’s approach to philosophy is so ridiculous and namjoon can’t stand her!! namjoon is so stuffy and y/n can’t stand him!! god damnit just kiss already!! 

➺ wordcount; 7.2k

➺ summary; you’re the newest professor joining the university, and all of a sudden, it feels like namjoon actually has someone to compete with for the first time. 

➺ what to expect; “Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; what is this feeling? — wicked soundtrack 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon isn’t a fan of change. 

he’s always liked things in a particular way — he only likes notebooks with a seamless, perfect binding for the spines, he only likes ballpoint pens and never gel, he only uses traditional coloured highlighters and none of that strange, pastel-coloured junk, and he only likes to use a sandalwood scented essential oil diffuser in his apartment and his lecture hall 

most of his life has been planned out (he planned out how the next twenty years of his life would go when he was ten, and according to this twenty-year plan, he’s pretty on track) and he likes it that way, so yes, he isn’t a big fan of change when it comes to such an important timeline like this

he’s currently a professor at the university he got his phd from, and because part of his twenty-year plan included going from his bachelor’s degree to his master’s degree to his doctoral degree, it means that he’s actually the youngest professor on the staff’s roster (which, again, was part of his plan all along) 

he’s been teaching here for nearly two years now and has built a very solid reputation with his co-workers, he’s the school’s most sought-after professor when it comes to his philosophy classes — he teaches three undergrad classes and two graduate classes and every semester they’re always packed and students will always email him to try and get into the class when the capacity is full — and he’s pretty sure he’s getting a raise soon, which is great because he’s been meaning to splurge on a new electric tea kettle that lets you control the temperature and sings a little song when the water’s done boiling 

“alright, let’s bring today’s discussion to a close.” namjoon shakes his wrist, checking the time on his watch before nodding to himself — the lecture ends in five minutes, so he’s wrapping up right on time and he’ll be able to grab a coffee and a croissant before his office hours start, “what we’ve explored today is really just a glimpse into the vast and ongoing conversation about how to engage critically with your existence.” he hums, leaning back against his desk as he looks out at the sea of students in front of him, the sound of pen tips scratching on paper and typing on keyboards coming from all over the room 

“after you leave class today, i’d like for you to reflect on the choices you make — not just the big, life-altering ones, but the miniscule, everyday decisions.” he reaches up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “are they leading you toward a life of purpose and integrity? or are they dictated by external pressures and unexamined habits? we’ll continue this discussion next time, but until then, i’d like you to keep questioning, keep thinking, and keep living philosophically. as always, i have office hours here from 3:30-6 if you have any questions. class dismissed.” he nods, and almost immediately the class breaks into packing up, murmurs rippling through the vast lecture hall 

namjoon smiles lightly to himself as he gives himself a mental pat on the back

yet another successful lecture!

he really does love teaching, and he’s so grateful that he’s able to do something that he actually likes for work 

shaping young minds is something that he’s always wanted to do, and he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job as a professor 

…

oh, who is he kidding? of course he’s been doing a fantastic job as a professor! 

he smiles politely as his students trickle out the door, turning around to grab his wallet out of his backpack 

croissant time! 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“hello, are you here for office hours?” namjoon isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see someone standing by his desk, looking around the empty lecture hall, “it actually starts at 3:30, so it would be great if you could come back in fifteen minutes and i’d be happy to answer any questions you have about the lecture.”

“oh, hi!“ you spin around with a smile, and namjoon returns a polite one as he sets his coffee and pastry bag down on the desk, “no, i’m not here for office hours, i’m here to check out the lecture hall for when i start teaching alongside you next week. you’re namjoon, right? i’ve heard so much about you, i’m y/n y/l/n and i’m really excited to start working together-“ you stick your hand out for him to shake and he immediately frowns, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at you with a scoff of disbelief 

“teaching… alongside me?” he tilts his head, reaching over to give your hand a shake after a moment of hesitation (it would be rude of him to turn down a handshake, and he has to admit you have a nice, firm handshake), “i’m sorry, what are you talking about?” 

“didn’t you get the email? i’m the newest philosophy professor joining the staff-“ you slide your tote bag off your shoulder and pull your phone out, “they told me i’d kinda be shadowing you before they can determine if i should lead my own lectures or not. so i guess i’m a co-professor for now, but eventually i’ll just be a professor. i’ve seen a few of your lectures online, i’m looking forward to working together and-“

“co-professor?” namjoon interrupts, holding his hand out to make you stop talking, “i’m sorry, this is the first i’m hearing of this.” he fumbles for his phone before looking through his email because there’s no way he would’ve missed an email as important as- 

okay there it is 

yep 

he totally missed that 

“i see.” namjoon pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “okay, well… i guess you can just sit with the class and listen to the lectures. i don’t need an assistant professor, but you can help give out handouts or something-“

“well, that would make sense if i was a TA, but i’m not entering this classroom as a TA or an assistant professor, i’m entering it as a co-professor. we’re equals!” you point out, namjoon’s eyes widening when you pull a pen out from your bun and slap a copy of the class syllabus down on his desk 

he’s appalled to see that you’ve written all over it, and not only that, you’ve used multiple colours to take notes instead of the traditional black, blue, and red 

…pastel purple?!

“i took a look at the lineup you have, and to be frank, it’s a little stiff. your students are drowning in dense readings, and i don’t know about you, but i actually hated reading so much when i was in undergrad-“ 

“well, that sounds like it’s a you problem, because i liked reading and always appreciated when the professor gave us something dense and enriching to read-“

“why not swap out one of the medieval philosophy lectures for something a little fresher?” you suggest, using the back of your pen to point to the lecture he has planned in a few weeks, “maybe we can do a session on philosophy in science fiction? ooh, ethics in AI might be fun, no? it’s something they can apply to the modern world-“

“philosophy isn’t about chasing trends. it’s about discipline, rigorous thought, and engaging with foundational texts that have shaped human understanding for centuries, professor y/l/n-“

“it’s doctor.”

“what?”

“dr. y/l/n. i just graduated with my phd.” 

a moment of silence passes as namjoon processes all of this new information

processing…

processing…

“you-“ still processing… “you what? how old are you?”

“you should never ask a woman how old she is, but i’m two years younger than you. and i know that because i actually took the time to look at your profile on the university’s website after getting the email that we’d be working together for the rest of the semester-“

“rest of the-“ namjoon chokes, reaching up to adjust his tie, “okay, respectfully, dr. y/l/n, my whole point is that students have no business calling themselves actual philosophers if they can’t wrestle with aquinas and avicenna-“ 

“right, because thirty pages of medieval metaphysical debates on the essence of angels is going to determine whether or not a student can call themself an actual philosopher. i’m not saying to abandon the classics, i’m just saying it’s not gonna hurt to throw in a few discussions that’ll make philosophy feel a little more… alive to them!” 

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes as he takes a seat at his desk, keeping his eyes glued on the scribbles all over your copy of the syllabus 

there’s no way he’s gonna work with someone who thinks pastel purple is an appropriate colour to use when taking notes 

he reaches over to grab his coffee, taking a sip and- 

his coffee is cold 

he waited too long and now his coffee is cold, and he would’ve been drinking perfectly lukewarm coffee if it weren’t for the fact that you came and disrupted his whole schedule like this 

“anyway, i’m open to discussing spicing up the syllabus once you have the time. i don’t want to take up any of your office hours, i know you probably have students lined up outside already-“ you fold the syllabus back up into four squares before tucking it away into your tote bag (namjoon is once again appalled you don’t have a folder for your papers and seem to have based your organising system off mary poppins’ purse), “but it was really nice meeting you, dr. kim. you have my phone number and email when you want to arrange a meeting.”

“…right…” namjoon trails off, and for the first time is rendered completely speechless and doesn’t know what else to say 

all he knows is that there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow this co-professor business to happen. 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

you let out a breath as you shut the door behind you, your shoulders finally slumping 

you hated that whole interaction 

you can already tell that working with namjoon is going to be a pain in the ass 

you’d heard some things about him — you’d heard about how great of a lecturer he is and how he genuinely cares about what he’s teaching and what his students are learning from him, but you’d also heard that he was pretty stuck in his ways and not… super cooperative, which you already saw first hand 

at the same time, you had to admit that that was a quality that both of you shared — you’re not exactly a fan of being co-professors, you’d much rather just take the reins and lead the class yourself while namjoon sits off to the side, but you are the new one around here and you do want to be liked 

so you can play nice for now, because the most important thing you’re focusing on is securing your place as an official staff member and making a great first impression on your new co-workers and your new students 

you’d prefer for namjoon to like you, but he seems to be a tough nut to crack 

the both of you should at least try to get along, and you’re willing to do that as long as he’s willing to meet you in the middle 

so… let’s just hope he’s willing to meet you in the middle

your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans and you pull it out, surprised to already see a text from namjoon 

okay

this is great!

the fact that he’s already opening a line of communication is a good sign, maybe this semester won’t be hell on earth after all 

the smile on your face slowly disappears when you finally get around to reading the texts, your eyebrows knitting together instead

Hello, Dr. Y/L/N. This is Kim Namjoon. Please save my number so that we may communicate with each other if needed. The semester has already begun, therefore I don’t think there has to be any changes made to my syllabus. We do not need to discuss this topic any further. Thank you.

you don’t even get a chance to really process his text before another one pops up 

Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you. 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon sighs to himself as he makes his way up the brick stairs to enter the philosophy building, reaching up to adjust his tie 

for the first time ever, he’s running a little behind (only by like, three minutes, he’s not that reckless) but it’s only because he spent the earlier portion of the afternoon speaking with the department head and practically pleading them to change their minds about this whole co-professor situation 

he’d gone into the office with many good arguments tucked into a neat little powerpoint presentation 

for example, he doesn’t need a co-professor because he knows what he’s doing and you would only slow him down 

also his students consistently have high grades and his classes are always packed each semester so there’s no issues with consistency or lack of interest 

sure, philosophy can be a stiff subject to work with but he thinks he’s done a great job at teaching it and upkeeping enthusiasm 

the point is he doesn’t need you, and if anything you should just be teaching your own class and the students who don’t make it into his class can all go to you! 

(maybe he shouldn’t have made that last comment, but it’s true.) 

but of course, because luck wasn’t on his side, his presentation didn’t convince the department head to change his mind 

apparently you were a “great addition” to the staff and that namjoon should feel lucky he gets to work alongside such a “smart, well-spoken young professional” who is “just as good at teaching as he is” 

ridiculous

totally ridiculous 

what’s even more ridiculous is the fact that you seem to have become a fan favourite despite only being here for literally a week 

your mug is already right next to his in the cupboard in the professor’s lounge

it’s clearly a handmade mug you probably made at one of those pottery places because the edges are a little bumpy which makes it wobble a little when you put it face down 

the outside is an eggplant purple and the inside of the cup is painted a shade of sage green and it looks like a child would drink chocolate milk out of it 

his mug is sensible and professional 

it’s plain white with his initials on the front printed in times new roman 

everyone knows it’s his mug and there’s never any confusion 

he even heard a rumour about one of the spare rooms in the philosophy department being cleared out for a new office for you if things work out 

and yes, he has his own office already, but he just thinks everyone is being a little hasty clearing out an office space just for you 

he can’t even imagine how you’d decorate the space 

you’re probably one of those people who have little trinkets everywhere and you’ll probably have like a miniature pool table on your desk to play with 

he shudders as he thinks about having to sit in oversized beanbag chairs instead of actual chairs 

“alright, alright, alright!” 

namjoon’s surprised when he opens the lecture hall door to an unusually bustling room, the students chatting animatedly as they flip through their notebooks

the air is alive with the rustling of papers, clinking of metal water bottles, and the occasional burst of laughter and he frowns as he sees a few of them leaning forward enthusiastically compared to the usual scene of them scrolling through their phones or talking to each other

he turns his head and sees you at the front of the room, perched casually on the edge of the desk twirling a purple pen between your fingers before shoving it into your bun, “now, something a little controversial...” you pause dramatically, “red ink for grading. ethical, or a crime against student morale?” 

namjoon’s jaw immediately clenches as he rolls his eyes — obviously this has something to do with the text he sent you the other day about your ridiculous coloured pens and your little ego’s been bruised and that’s why you’re being bratty 

but whatever, because if anything this is just proving his point — you’re an immature little kid totally unfit to be his equal! and he’s more than happy to let you make a fool of yourself in front of his students, so sure, go ahead and talk about your little purple pen for all he cares 

the room erupts in laughter and groans and namjoon silently makes his way over to the front to join you, pulling his chair back to see that you’ve already put your backpack down on it 

he picks it up and plops it down on the ground, using his foot to kick it under the desk before taking a seat and hanging his backpack on the back of the chair 

“i always feel like i’m being yelled at when i see red ink!”

“exactly!” you laugh, sliding up to sit on the edge of the desk with your legs swinging slightly, completely blocking the class from seeing namjoon, “it’s psychological torture. red ink doesn’t just mark mistakes, it screams them. it’s aggressive. but what about if i used green? or pink? or… pastel purple? would you feel a little different about your grade?” 

“it would feel… friendlier?”

“friendlier, right?” you grin, tapping your temple as you look out at the room of enthusiastic students, “then here’s the real ethical dilemma, kids — if something as small as ink colour affects how we perceive feedback, then what do we think that says about bigger, more serious choices? if we can reframe an experience with something as simple as colour, then what other biases are shaping the way we see the world around us? something to think about...” 

“are you just about done, dr. y/l/n?” namjoon raises an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against the desk as he leans back against his chair, “because i’d like to get started with class now, if you’re ready to go.” 

“ah! dr. kim, sorry — i know you usually like to start your classes with a silent ten minutes of quiet reflection of last week’s lecture, but i figured i’d warm up the class myself since this is my first day as co-professor.” you chirp, sliding off the desk before turning to face the class again, “very lovely to meet you all and i’m looking forward to getting to know each and every one of you as we progress with the semester!” 

“kiss ass.” namjoon coughs into his fist quietly, getting up from his seat before smiling warmly at his students, nudging you aside with his hip before clapping his hands together, “alright, class! medieval philosophy, let’s get into it…” 

you immediately roll your eyes when you turn to face away from the class, taking a seat next to the desk and crossing one leg over the other 

he’s just jealous because the students clearly like you more and you’ve only been here five minutes

but if this is how he wants to play, then you’re more than willing to play along.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon finds that the simplest things in life bring him the most pleasure

a hot cup of black coffee, the perfect scent of sandalwood in a room, the feeling of cracking the spine on a brand new notebook… 

but most importantly, a perfectly toasted buttery flaky croissant from the cafe on the bottom floor of the philosophy building

he’s eaten these croissants ever since he was a student here, and he always has a croissant after he teaches classes here on tuesdays and thursdays — it’s like a reward! 

“what do you mean there are no more croissants?!” namjoon slams both palms down on the counter, pulling away immediately when he feels that the surface is a little sticky 

gross 

“sorry, namjoon!” hoseok shrugs, “i just sold the last croissant to- actually, i think you know her, she said she’s the new professor in the philosophy department-“

you.

“i know who you’re talking about.” namjoon grits his teeth, looking at the pastry case for anything else that might satisfy his midday sweet treat craving but he doesn’t want a stupid sea salt chocolate chip cookie or a raspberry white chocolate scone, he wants his plain buttery croissant that you probably only bought to spite him! 

“yeah, her!” hoseok grins, setting namjoon’s coffee down on the counter, “she’s really nice, isn’t she? she said she likes the way i do my leaf design on her caramel lattes, no one’s ever complimented my leaves before- it just feels so nice to be appreciated for once-“ 

“no!” namjoon snaps, pointing a finger at hoseok, “you have to stop yourself from being charmed by her, it’s all an act and- and- next time she asks for a latte, you should do a giant- a GIANT frowney face-“ 

“well, i don’t think i’m going to do that but-“ hoseok frowns when he notices a vein starting to bulge out namjoon’s forehead, “hey, you seem a little tense! how about a cookie on the house?” he asks, using his tongs to pick up the sad-looking cookie before putting it in a paper bag for namjoon, “it’s just a croissant, namjoon. i know you like ‘em every tuesday and thursday but if it makes you feel better i’ll save you one on thursday! it seems like both of you guys like croissants so i can definitely save two of them-“

the both of them look over to where you’re sitting by the window with his croissant while you flip to the next page of whatever stupid book you’re reading, and namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver in the slightest when you look up and over at them 

you smile brightly, raising the croissant in the air a little before taking a massive bite out of it, rubbing your stomach and nodding your head exaggeratingly 

namjoon’s eye twitches and he turns back to look at hoseok

“it is not just a croissant and you know that, hoseok-“ he snatches the cookie from his friend before shaking his head in disappointment, “she is a siren and you are a helpless, weak little sailor-“

“hey! what the hell, man?!” 

“WEAK little sailor!” namjoon exclaims as he storms away, angrily shoving the cookie into his mouth and wiping crumbs off with the back of his hand sloppily 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“tae, have you seen my mug?” you frown, taking a few steps back to see if you can get a better view of the second shelf, “i usually have it on the first shelf but i can’t find it anywhere…” 

“is it not there?” taehyung — he’s the janitor here and you guys got along pretty quickly — hums, setting his mop aside before walking over to join you by the cupboards, “i swear i saw it there this morning, that’s odd. i’ll keep an eye out and let you know if i see it anywhere. you sure you didn’t leave it in your lecture hall?”

“no…” you trail off, shutting the cupboard doors gently with a sigh, “hm. i’m sure it’ll pop up somewhere. thanks, anyway…” 

you like to think that you’re a pretty chill person, but there’s just something about misplacing something that really irks you 

because then you start thinking about when the last time you saw the missing object was and then it turns into a spiral of how you could be so careless and irresponsible and lose something and also it makes you anxiously think about someone else using something that belongs to you and only you 

that’s your good luck mug!

you made it at a colour-me-mine in freshman year and you’ve used it ever since 

you’re convinced it has some kind of magical power because the mug always happens to be there when you get good news

it was there when you got accepted into your graduate program, your doctoral program, and it was literally in your hands when you got the email from the university accepting you as a new professor

so… hopefully it does pop up somewhere 

you used it yesterday after class and you remember washing and drying it immediately before sliding it back on the shelf 

you chew on the corner of your lip as you push open the door to the lecture hall, your eyes widening when you see namjoon standing there taking a sip from your mug 

you open your mouth to say something but he immediately brings a finger up to his lips to shush you — the class is having their silent time and the last thing you want to do is cause a scene, right? 

“that’s my mug.” you whisper through gritted teeth, and namjoon moves his hands to the side quickly when you reach up to try to snatch it out of his hands, “you have a stupid, boring mug already-“ 

“oh, but your mug is so much fun!” namjoon grins, taking another sip of water from it 

(it’s actually killing him having to drink from this cursed vessel. why are the edges so bumpy?! how do you drink from this stupid thing without dribbling all over yourself?!) 

“it is on, dr. kim.” you hiss, forcing a smile on your face when a few students look up from their desks, “it is so on.” 

“hm.” namjoon clears his throat quietly, the two of you standing side by side with your arms pressed together, “bring it, dr. y/l/n.” 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

the next few weeks seem to go by like a blur — maybe because you’re actually having a good time teaching the class and slowly growing more comfortable being a professor (you agreed to stick to namjoon’s syllabus only if he allowed you to teach your ethics of AI lecture) but also because this rivalry between the two of you seems to be keeping you on high alert 

after the croissant and the mug incident, the two of you only continued to one-up each other 

you replaced the sandalwood essential oil in the lecture hall with a refreshing peppermint (and you really doused it in the machine so it would take multiple cycles to be fully flushed out) and in response namjoon bought the entire jug of caramel syrup from the cafe so you’d be forced to pick another flavour 

and then you took all of namjoon’s sensible coloured whiteboard markers and replaced them with bright, fun ones forcing him to write in a fuschia pink and in response namjoon bought all fifteen croissants that day which felt kind of dramatic but at the same time you can’t help but kind of respect it

whatever

all you know is that you despise kim namjoon

every morning when you wake up, you’re thinking about how else you can terrorise him besides just taking the last croissant in the display case 

every night before bed, you’re thinking about how else you can make fun of his stupid powerpoint presentations and you even considered hacking his laptop and adding fun transitions to his powerpoints to throw him off

he hates fun transitions 

with that being said, you’re willing to put the fight on pause because today is an important day — it’s your first time leading a lecture! you’ve been prepping for this ethics in AI lecture and you’re more than excited to show the class (and namjoon) what you’re capable of 

and if all goes well, you will be rubbing this success in his stupid, handsome face. 

“handfphome?” you blurt out, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as you blink at yourself in the mirror

oh 

oh no 

you don’t actually think he’s handsome, do you?

well, there was that one time he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and when he turned around you couldn’t help but notice how broad his back was 

and that other time you were looking at his hands when he was pointing to something on his stupid powerpoint and you couldn’t help but think that he had such pretty hands 

and also he always smells really good — like a combination of smokey sandalwood and his natural musk 

and when you listen to him speak it’s really soothing because he has a deep voice that kind of makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud being rocked back and forth

he’s also very intelligent and incredibly well-spoken

highly educated, charming in his own weird way (not with you, but you’ve seen the way he interacts with other professors), kinda funny sometimes, and you only know he’s single because you overheard two students whispering about it in the hallway — apparently they’d done a deep dive of his socials and there was no partner to be found, his instagram page was full of pictures of plants and quotes from philosophers 

so basically he’s a hot single nerd who’s really into philosophy and plants and you guys are only two years apart and hypothetically if you didn’t know each other and you saw him at the bar you would probably feel a little flustered if he flirted with you 

and maybe one time you watched him apply chapstick onto his plump lips and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked 

…

…

…

you take your toothbrush out of your mouth, your eyes widening in realisation and- 

“son of a BITC-“ 

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“would you let AI decide whether you get a loan? a job? parole? surgery?” you pause, letting the weight of the question settle over the students, “i know, it’s a crazy question. but maybe you already have… algorithms are making these decisions right now — sorting resumes, predicting crime, even diagnosing illnesses. AI is everywhere, and the question isn’t whether it should exist, it’s whether we should trust it…”

the only reason why namjoon is cooperating today is because you’ve (sort of) cooperated with his syllabus over the last couple weeks despite being a total menace to him personally 

yes, he’ll let you teach your ethics in AI lecture today because he’s interested in seeing what points you’ll bring up today

he can also tell you’ve been really nervous about leading your first lecture and he still remembers how nervous he was when he was in your position, so he’ll take it easy on you 

he caught you practicing your intro in the professor’s lounge and he slowly backed out so that you wouldn’t see him

and he’ll never say this to your face but from the intro alone it sounds like a pretty promising lecture

and it was kind of cute seeing you fumble with your cue cards and going over your lines with your eyes shut 

namjoon leans back against his chair as he listens to you speak, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as he crosses his arms over his chest 

sure, maybe you’re more than immature when it comes to buying his croissants and replacing his scented oils, but… 

oh god

does he respect you as an educator?! 

he pauses for a second to think, watching as you reach up to fiddle with a button on your shirt nervously 

also you actually dressed up today compared to your usual attire of a sweater and jeans and namjoon can’t help but notice that your ass looks really round in that pencil skirt 

he tilts his head slightly as his eyes continue staring at you from behind, the ooga booga man part of his brain wondering how it’d feel to grasp your waist and cup your ass as he- 

oh no

he feels his dick twitch in his boxers and he clears his throat quietly, looking down at the desk and focusing on a speck of dust instead 

oh 

what is this feeling? 

he’s pretty sure he hates you 

and he’s pretty sure you hate him, so it doesn’t make sense for him to suddenly be thinking about how sweet you smell and how pretty your smile is and how funny it actually was for you to buy the last croissant just to get on his nerves 

no 

nope 

you guys don’t like each other! 

that’s how this works!

you just came in here and totally messed up his flow and you just expect him to go along with it but he refuses to do that and after this semester is over he hopes they stick you in another building far, far away from him 

he doesn’t need anyone messing with his routine, and especially not some hotshot professor who just got her phd 

“now, some of my less adventurous colleagues-“ you step aside to reveal namjoon, and namjoon feels his jaw twitch when the class laughs lightly after you gesture to him, “would tell you that AI is a dangerous pandora’s box, something that we should fear. and sure, it’s got its problems… bias, accountability, control. but let’s not kid ourselves — human decision making isn’t exactly perfect, either. AI didn’t invent discrimination, it just inherited it from us. so can we teach morality to something that doesn’t feel?” 

“AI is a threat to ethical stability. we’re delegating moral decision-making to machines that lack genuine understanding, consciousness, or accountability.” namjoon butts in, standing up from his desk with a scoff, “how can we trust algorithms with decisions that affect human lives when they can’t even grasp mortality in any meaningful way?” 

you look at him, slightly surprised that he’s interrupted you this early in your lecture for a debate 

but sure, you’ll give it a go — the two of you haven’t actually debated over a subject before and you’re down to totally humiliate him in front of the class 

“dr. kim is a great example of what sounding like a doomsday prophet is, class.” you smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes at namjoon as the class breaks into a few giggles and chuckles, “AI is a tool. nothing more, nothing less. it doesn’t need to ‘grasp’ mortality than a calculator needs to ‘understand’ math. the ethical responsibility lies with us! blaming AI is like blaming a knife for stabbing.” 

“that’s a dangerously naive view, dr. y/l/n!” namjoon laughs, the two of you staring each other down as you stand at opposite ends of the desk, “AI systems are already making high-stakes decisions — these systems inherit biases from their training data and can operate in ways even their own creators can’t explain. if we don’t impose strict ethical guidelines, we’re ceding control to forces we barely understand-“

“you’re acting like we’re summoning some digital god that’ll enslave us all! AI doesn’t have agency — instead of fearing it, we should focus on improving transparency and fairness in these systems. ethics in AI isn’t about rejecting technology, it’s about guiding it responsibly-“

“guiding it-“ namjoon can practically hear his heart thumping in his chest as his frustration rises inside him, “guiding it responsibly?! and what happens when corporations prioritise efficiency over ethics? what- what about when governments exploit AI for mass surveillance? when biased training data leads to systemic discrimination? you’re placing blind faith in a system that rewards profit over morality- you’re playing a dangerous game, dr. y/l/n, AI isn’t just another tool, it’s a tool we may not be able to control. and your reckless optimism makes you too eager to hand over the reins-“

“maybe you just don’t like that i’m willing to embrace the unknown!” you throw your hands up into the air before pointing an accusatory finger at him, “maybe that unsettles you because you have everything planned to a ridiculous degree, like the temperature of your coffee and what time you eat your croissants-“ 

“what unsettles me is your inability to take this seriously!” namjoon presses his lips into a firm line, feeling his face heating up, “you act as if ethics in AI is some intellectual playground when in reality, it has life-or-death consequences-“

“oh, i take it very seriously, dr. kim, i just don’t think fear is the right response. fear clouds judgement, and i think you just like to have an insane amount of control over things-“

“well, excuse me! someone has to have control, someone has to make sure we don’t create something we can’t contain-“ 

“you always think you can contain things, don’t you?”

“and you always think you can push boundaries without consequences!”

“you’d be surprised how many boundaries can be pushed safely, dr. kim.” 

there’s a beat of silence between the two of you, the air heavy with something that doesn’t feel like loathing, but rather… 

you pause, remembering all of a sudden that the students should be debating with each other instead of watching their professors do it 

“uh-“ you turn back to face the class before letting out a chuckle, “let’s take twenty minutes to discuss this subject with the person next to you! dr. kim and i have to re-evaluate the structure of today’s lecture, please pardon us-“ 

the class breaks into discussion and both you and namjoon exchange glares as you head towards the door

the two of you stumble against each other and get caught in the door for a second, both of you wanting to be the first one out to lead the way 

“oh, get off me-“

“you get off me!” 

“what is your problem?!” you snap as soon as you leave the lecture hall, heading straight for an empty classroom nearby, “you’re supposed to let me lead this lecture, today was my day and you just couldn’t help yourself!”

when the hell is this going to end?! 

there’s no way the both of you can work together if he’s going to get this heated in a debate

and sure, he made some really good points and the nerd inside of you is saying that that really good debate session might as well been some form of foreplay but that’s beside the point 

“oh, please.” namjoon kicks the door shut behind him, “all we did was get into a debate, you should be glad i participated at all-“ 

“you know what, i actually do know what your problem is.” you whip around, jabbing a finger into his (firm) chest, “you’re just a little man who’s threatened by me because we both know i can do your job just as well — or honestly, even better than you can, and this is the first time you’ve had any sort of competition. i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you just have to accept the fact that i’m going to be here and i’m sticking around for a long, long-“ 

“i’m going to kiss you, and if you don’t want that to happen, then tell me now and we can go back to the classroom and i’ll sit there quietly for the rest of your lecture.” namjoon interrupts, and your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat 

“wha-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face flush, “you- i’m sorry, what?”

“you heard me, y/n.” namjoon looks down at you, and you’re half expecting him to quit the act and say that he’s just fucking with you, but… “so what’s it going to be?” 

a moment of silence passes and you feel your thighs press together slightly when namjoon reaches up to loosen his tie slightly, his chest falling and rising in heavy breaths, “funny. you’re so quiet all of a sudden.” 

“i…” your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, “fine. you- we-“ you straighten your posture, trying your best not to show how flustered you actually are, “but make it quick because i have a lecture to-“

without another word, namjoon closes the distance between the two of you and in one fluid motion, presses his lips against yours and now you can finally confirm that his lips are as soft as they look 

you grip the front of his shirt to pull him closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that matches the intensity of your back-and-forth over the last few weeks 

your lips move against each other’s as namjoon’s hands slide around your waist to pull you in even tighter, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough 

you’re breathless when the two of you eventually pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart thumping wildly in your chest 

“this better not be some weird prank-“ you manage to blurt out, head still spinning from what was a very, very good kiss, “because i’m petty enough to call the catering company and tell them to nix the croissant deliveries entirely-“ 

namjoon laughs, leaning down for another kiss — this time softer, more deliberate — before pulling away with a playful eye roll 

“we’re gonna go back in and you’ll finish your lecture, and if you’re free tonight, i’d love to take you out for dinner.” he murmurs, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being a little shy

it’s cute

“i’ll go out with you… on one condition.” you hum, reaching up to adjust his glasses for him 

“hm?” 

“next week you let me lead a lecture on examining the moral dilemmas faced by superheroes in film and comics — like how batman has a no-kill rule and-“

namjoon immediately groans as he turns and heads towards the door, “oh my god, you are infuriating-“

“what?! it’s a good subject!” 

🎙️ ask y/n about her thoughts on the nature of consciousness (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[soft-for-yoongi]

Okay... I may have started another fic but it's a little different but also not at the same time...

Would you guys like to read about one of the members acting sick, trying to get the others to take a break? Or is this something that you wouldn't really want?

[hyungieyoongi]

It’s my three year Tumblr anniversary! I am so grateful to everyone who has joined me on this journey. I could include an endless amount of people who have made me smile, inspired me with their writing, brainstormed ideas with me, and have always been down to fangirl, but here’s just a few that I love so dearly and wouldn’t be here without:

@delacyrose224

@alpacaparkaseok

@milk-and-moni

@jiminshairline

@dulce-pjm

@park-jimin-isnt-real

Missing my besties and BTS extra today. Thanks for sticking around 💜

[vintagemoonsstuff]

can anyone recommend me bts fic which feels like summer/spring vibes? any member is fine but maknae line would be good.

[seokwrts]

I LIKE ME BETTER | jjk

PART ONE

summary : After walking in on her boyfriend Sanho cheating, Y/N moves out and ends up living with Jungkook, a cocky yet caring acquaintance she once couldn’t stand. What begins as a tense, passive-aggressive roommates situation slowly transforms into something deeper, as both navigate heartbreak, vulnerability, and emotional healing. Through stormy nights, late-night confessions, domestic routines, and quiet tension, Y/N and Jungkook gradually uncover the warmth and safety they’ve both been missing—especially in each other.

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen just living under the same roof?”

pairing : jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre : roommates , fluff , smut

word count : 4.5k

warnings : Explicit. This story contains sexual content, explicit language, and themes of emotional trauma. Expect a roommates-to-lovers slow burn with intense enemies-to-lovers tension, mutual pining, and eventual smut. Features include domestic intimacy, past cheating, emotional hurt/comfort, and lots of kitchen tension. There’s jealousy, unresolved sexual tension, first times, comfort sex, and characters who are both emotionally guarded and touch-starved.

The toothbrush was still in the cup.

His shirt still hung on the back of the chair.

The vanilla candle she’d lit two nights ago still flickered faintly in the corner, scenting the room with a memory it no longer deserved.

Everything looked the same—everything but him.

Sanho.

On the couch. Shirtless. Laughing. Arms draped around a girl who wasn’t her.

The same girl from his contact list—the one she had once asked about during a quiet dinner, wine glass in hand and something unsettled in her voice.

“She’s just a friend, babe.”

That girl now sat nestled into him like she belonged there.

Like Y/N had never existed.

His hand was resting on the small of the girl’s back, thumb moving in slow, familiar circles.

The way he used to touch Y/N when he was trying to soothe her. Calm her. Keep her.

And for a moment, all she could do was stand there—motionless, silent, keys still clenched between white knuckles, while the ground crumbled beneath her.

She didn’t scream.

Didn’t cry.

Didn’t even blink, not right away.

It was strange, how pain like that didn’t make noise.

It just sat inside your chest like a heavy, rotting secret.

He saw her. The laughter stopped.

His head snapped toward the door. His expression flickered—first confusion, then horror, then that awful, choking guilt she’d seen before.

A crack formed in the perfect little mask he wore for everyone else.

But not for her.

Never for her.

“Y/N—” he breathed.

She could’ve unleashed everything in her. All the rage, the heartbreak, the months of second-guessing herself.

She could’ve screamed “How fucking long?”

She could’ve marched over and thrown his stupid records off the shelves or smashed his phone into the floor.

But she didn’t.

She just looked at him, like she was seeing him for the first time. And maybe she was.

“No.”

That was all she said.

One syllable. Low. Final.

It wasn’t a cry. It wasn’t a plea. It was a closed door. A lock snapping shut. A full stop at the end of a love story that never should’ve started.

Sanho stood quickly, the girl still tangled in his lap scrambling to fix her top. “Wait—wait, baby, just—just listen for a sec, it’s not what it looks like—”

Not what it looks like?

God, he had the fucking audacity to pull that line?

She turned on her heel without another word. Walked out, heart caving in her chest, jaw tight, eyes dry.

Not because she wasn’t hurting.

But because she’d already cried enough for him in all the nights she waited for his texts, all the mornings she woke up feeling like a ghost in her own bed.

Each step was a scream she didn’t let out.

And when she closed the door behind her—it wasn’t a slam. No rage. No theatrical heartbreak.

Just a soft, measured click.

But it sounded more like a funeral.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

She didn’t remember how long she walked.

Through the streets of Seoul, neon buzzing overhead, air thick with the smell of late-night food stalls and engine fumes.

She barely noticed the music thumping from passing bars, the chatter of couples holding hands. It all moved around her like she didn’t exist.

Her feet took her to the only place that didn’t feel like a lie: the Han River.

She sat on a cold metal bench near the edge, the water stretching wide and black in front of her. Quiet.

Still.

Unbothered by her tiny, shattered world.

She stared at it until her eyes stung, until the city behind her dimmed and the ache in her chest throbbed like something alive.

And still, she didn’t cry.

Because fuck him.

Because crying was what she did before—when she thought she was losing something real. Now she knew better.

He wasn’t worth the tears.

He wasn’t worth any of it.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

Her phone vibrated once. Then again. Then again. The texts came in waves, each one more pathetic than the last.

Sanho [7:14PM]

Please just talk to me.

Sanho [8:02PM]

You’re overreacting. It didn’t mean anything.

Sanho [10:17PM]

I messed up, okay? I’ll fix it. We can fix it.

Sanho [1:03AM]

Do you really want to throw away everything we had?

She turned the screen off. Tossed the phone beside her on the bench like it was diseased.

Everything we had?

He threw it away the second his lips found another neck.

When his fingers moved across that girl’s skin like Y/N never even existed.

Fuck him.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

The next morning, she moved like a machine.

No tears. No music. Just packing.

The room looked like someone else had lived in it. Her clothes in the closet. Her books on the shelves. Her green Jeju mug by the window.

That mug.

He bought it during their trip. Said it reminded him of her eyes.

Now it just looked like bullshit.

She left it behind.

She didn’t leave a note. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t even text. She just grabbed her duffel, wheeled her suitcase through the quiet hallway, and shut the door on two years of her life like it was nothing.

Because in the end, that’s what it had meant to him.

Nothing.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

Her best friend let her crash on a futon in her tiny studio for two nights. It smelled like ramen and floor cleaner. The radiator was broken. But it was safe.

She barely ate. Barely slept.

Mostly just lay there, wondering how she could feel so hollow and still so heavy at the same time.

By the third morning, the ache in her chest had calcified into something solid.

She picked up her phone and started searching. No more waiting. No more sleeping in someone else’s corner.

She needed a place that was hers—even if it was small, even if it was broken, even if it was shared.

That’s when she found it.

Available Immediately:

Two-bedroom apartment in Hongdae. Quiet area. Natural light. “Character.”

Shared with one existing tenant. No pets. 500k deposit. Rent negotiable.

She didn’t think. She just called.

By noon, she’d toured it.

By 3 p.m., the lease was signed.

“Roommate’s already living there,” the landlady warned as she handed over the keycard and a scribbled door code. Her voice was dry, not unkind, just matter-of-fact. “Keeps to himself mostly. Don’t worry, he’s not a creep.”

Y/N blinked, the key cold in her palm. “That’s… comforting?”

The woman shrugged, already turning back toward her office. “You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just don’t touch his guitar.”

That was all she got.

No photo.

No proper introduction.

Just a number, a code, and a list of passive-aggressive post-its waiting for her future.

And frankly, Y/N wasn’t in the mood to care.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

The hallway leading to the apartment smelled faintly like burnt coffee and wet paint. The kind of scent that lingered in buildings where the rent was just low enough to make you tolerate it, and just high enough to remind you you’re still paying to suffer.

She reached the door, punched in the code with a sigh, and stepped inside.

The scent of incense hit her first—smoky, musky, like sandalwood and something a little bitter underneath. Then came the sound: a bassline vibrating low through the walls, like a heartbeat that didn’t know how to settle.

Then came the sight.

The apartment was chaos—but the curated kind. Lived-in, but not messy. Controlled disarray.

Posters were pinned crookedly to the walls—bands she vaguely recognized, some in English, others in Hangul scrawled like graffiti. A guitar leaned lazily against a chair that had seen better days. Ashtrays were used as coin trays. Open sketchbooks were scattered across the coffee table, some smudged with what looked like ink, charcoal, or maybe just frustration.

A used hoodie hung off one kitchen stool. A half-empty mug sat beside a tub of protein powder on the counter. A neon sign buzzed quietly from behind the curtain—something about “love” and “ruin” in script too artsy to read clearly.

And then there was him.

Standing in front of the sink, a spoon in his mouth and zero fucks in his eyes.

Black hair, loose waves, half tied back like he couldn’t be bothered to fully commit to a man bun. Sleeves rolled up just enough to show off inked forearms—swirls and lines that disappeared beneath the fabric. Headphones hung around his neck. His shirt was half-unbuttoned. A silver lip ring caught the light as he chewed on a piece of gum and gave her the kind of look people gave cold coffee.

“You’re the replacement?” he asked, voice flat, tone somewhere between suspicion and boredom.

Y/N blinked once. Twice.

Okay. This was happening.

“Roommate,” she corrected, hoisting her duffel a little higher on her shoulder. “Not intern. Or a stray cat, in case that’s where your brain went.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh, like she’d told a bad joke. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Wow,” she muttered under her breath, stepping inside. “Aren’t you just a warm fucking welcome.”

He didn’t respond, just moved back to the counter, rummaging through a drawer like she wasn’t still standing there with exhaustion weighing down every limb.

She set her bags down slowly, deliberately. The hardwood creaked under her boots.

Why do all men either cheat on you or treat you like you’re a Netflix error message?

Her thoughts were rapid fire now.

Cool. Love this. Love being ignored in my own new place. Love living with an angsty fucking album cover.

Her voice was sharp when she spoke again. “I’m Y/N.”

He glanced over his shoulder, didn’t smile. “Jungkook.”

No handshake. No nod. No “nice to meet you.”

Just silence.

Awkward, stretched-thin silence filled by the sound of rain tapping against the windows and the low thrum of music still playing from his speaker.

She crossed her arms, taking him in more fully now that the shock had dulled slightly.

He wasn’t ugly—fuck, no, he was objectively hot. Like, Pinterest thirst-board hot. But that didn’t matter. He had that specific brand of “I don’t give a shit” energy that instantly made her teeth itch.

“Are you always this friendly or am I just lucky?” she asked.

He shrugged, barely looking up. “I don’t do the whole ‘bonding’ thing.”

“Oh, I figured,” she said, kicking off her shoes and toeing them toward the rack. “It was either that or you’re just socially constipated.”

That got a twitch out of his lip. Almost a smirk.

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” he said. “Other bedroom’s at the end. Don’t touch my speakers.”

“Don’t touch my shampoo,” she shot back. “It’s imported and I will know.”

“Noted.”

She rolled her eyes and picked up her duffel, trudging toward the hallway. “This is gonna be fucking great,” she muttered.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

Her room was fine.

Small. Clean. Sunlight filtered in through sheer curtains. A bare mattress on a low platform bed. A single window facing the building across the street.

It smelled like dust and old wood and hope. Or maybe that last part was just wishful thinking.

She collapsed onto the mattress with a groan, staring at the ceiling like it held answers. It didn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ, she thought, one arm flung across her forehead. What kind of rom-com bullshit did I just sign up for?

“Hot, tattooed roommate” was supposed to be fantasy material—not her rebound reality.

Her stomach twisted. Not because of Jungkook. Because of Sanho.

Her chest still ached, but in a dull, hollow way now—like something removed too fast. The kind of pain you couldn’t cry about anymore because you’d already cried yourself dry.

“You’re not gonna fucking think about him again,” she told herself out loud. “We are not doing the Sad Girl Shit tonight. We’re a new bitch now. A bitch with rent.”

She got up and started unpacking with mechanical force, slamming drawers open and folding clothes like they owed her money.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

Later that night, she emerged from her room in pajama shorts and a hoodie, hunting for food and maybe—God forbid—some civility.

Jungkook was shirtless now, sprawled on the couch with his sketchpad on his lap, a pencil moving quickly between his fingers. Headphones in. Eyes sharp. Jaw tense.

Jesus. Okay, he really is hot. Dammit.

She cleared her throat. “Hey. Kitchen’s fair game, right?”

He didn’t answer.

She repeated louder, “I said, kitchen’s fair game?”

He finally glanced up and yanked one side of his headphones off. “Why are you yelling?”

“Because you have the fucking sound barrier on your head.”

He blinked at her. Then nodded toward the fridge. “Go ahead.”

She flipped him off under her breath and went to dig through the fridge. Not much. Leftover tteokbokki. Half a bottle of Coke. Three cans of beer. Protein shakes.

She grabbed the beer.

Popped it open.

Took a long sip.

Jungkook spoke from the couch. “So… what’s your deal?”

Y/N turned, beer in hand, leaning against the fridge like a soap opera villain. “You mean, why did a broken, emotionally wrecked woman move into a grunge boy’s apartment instead of therapy?”

He smiled. Just a little. “Something like that.”

She took another swig. “Ex-boyfriend. Cheated. Ate shit. I moved out.”

“Damn,” he said, pencil still moving. “What a guy.”

“Oh, he’s a fucking treasure. You’d love him. The human equivalent of a softboiled egg with an Instagram account.”

That made him laugh. A real one this time.

And it hit her harder than she expected.

Something about the way he laughed—low, sudden, surprised—like he hadn’t done it in a while.

Jungkook looked up again, this time properly. “Well… welcome to hell, roommate.”

She raised her can. “Cheers to shared misery.”

Their eyes locked for a beat longer than necessary.

And that’s when she knew it.

Clear as the goddamn moon outside.

This was going to get messy.

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow.

But sometime soon—between the passive-aggressive post-its, shirtless mornings, late-night sketching, and secondhand incense—

Shit was going to burn.

And Y/N?

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop it.

They were opposites in every imaginable way.

And not in a quirky, “wow, opposites attract!” kind of way. No. They clashed like oil and vinegar—and not the expensive kind you drizzle over artisan bread. The cheap shit. The kind that spills, stains, and smells like regret.

Y/N liked quiet mornings. Tea, calm Spotify playlists, the soft hum of her skincare fridge, the whisper of a pen against a planner.

Jungkook made protein shakes at 7 a.m. like he was competing in Seoul’s Loudest Roommate Olympics. Blender screaming. Trap music thumping. Half-naked with only a towel slung low on his hips, just to complete the auditory and visual chaos.

She took long, hot, soul-resetting showers.

He’d drum on the bathroom door with a fucking spatula if she took more than fifteen minutes. “Some of us have biceps to build!” he once shouted. She retaliated the next day by blasting Taylor Swift’s All Too Well (10 Minute Version) on loop while showering for thirty-eight minutes.

She labeled the kitchen shelves. Clearly. Systematically. With her own goddamn money.

He laughed for five straight minutes, then moved everything around like a chaotic little gremlin on a mission from hell. She nearly cried when she found the cereal in the pan drawer.

And so, they adapted.

Barely.

They communicated mostly through notes. Passive-aggressive ones, stuck to any available surface—fridge doors, cabinets, shampoo bottles, his protein powder container.

Jungkook, stop leaving your damn socks on the dining table. That’s where I eat.

→ Y/N, stop acting like the sock police. No one died.

I have class at 8 a.m. Stop screaming into your mic past midnight.

→ I’m not screaming. I’m singing. You’re welcome for the free concert.

You drank my oat milk. Again.

→ It was expiring tomorrow. You’re welcome for preventing waste.

Eat shit.

→ Already did. Thanks to your cooking.

She sometimes fantasized about moving out. A cute studio with plants. A view of the Han. A cat named Nico. No Jungkook.

He probably fantasized about roommates who didn’t color-code the pantry and leave Post-its that accused him of crimes against almond milk.

And yet… neither of them left.

Because in between the blender wars and label-maker tyranny, there were moments.

Small. Invasive. Unwelcome.

Moments that made her heart skip or her mouth press into a line. Moments she’d think about late at night when her brain wouldn’t shut the hell up.

Like the time he left tea outside her door.

She didn’t think he’d heard her crying. She’d stuffed her face into her pillow, blanket over her head, trying to muffle the sound. But he had.

There was a knock.

Then silence.

When she opened the door, a chipped mug of warm jasmine tea was waiting on the floor. Steam curled from it like something sacred. No note. No pity. Just… kindness. Quiet, unspoken kindness.

She drank it.

Didn’t say thank you. Couldn’t.

But the next morning, for the first time in weeks, she didn’t bitch about the blender.

Then there was the lamp.

Her desk lamp had fried itself mid-study session, sputtering out like her will to live. She sighed, muttered something about everything being broken, and left it.

The next morning, it was glowing. Fixed. No fanfare. Just… working.

She stared at it like it had grown legs.

“Who the fuck does that?” she whispered to no one.

Jungkook did.

She didn’t ask. Didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

And then, the worst moment. The one she couldn’t forget.

She came home early from class one afternoon, shoes in hand, and stopped in the hallway.

Jungkook was on the couch, hunched over a sketchpad, headphones in, pencil moving in soft, precise strokes. She hadn’t seen him draw before.

What made her heart jackhammer was the figure on the page.

A faceless woman, shoulders curled inward, wearing a sweater that looked exactly like hers—the oversized beige one she wore when she felt like hiding. The details were haunting. Exact. Tender.

It wasn’t just a sketch. It was a feeling. An intimacy.

She backed away before he saw her and closed herself in her room like a coward. She lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for two straight hours, cursing the weird twist in her stomach.

What the fuck was she feeling?

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

He never asked why she moved in suddenly.

Didn’t dig, didn’t pry. No sympathy. No therapist-mode bullshit. And that somehow made her trust him more than any guy who’d said, “If you ever need to talk…”

She never asked about his bruised knuckles or the nights he came home smelling like cigarettes and adrenaline. Never questioned the darkness under his eyes.

They lived parallel lives. Same fridge. Same bathroom. Same ceilings over their separate beds. Close enough to hear each other breathe, but far enough to pretend they didn’t care.

It was limbo.

It was maddening.

It was fucking confusing.

Some nights, when the silence got too loud and her mind started spinning—

She wondered.

What would it be like to blur the lines?

To walk out when he was humming in the kitchen, hair tied up, lip ring catching the light—and just kiss him?

Not a romantic, slow kiss.

A messy, chaotic, shut-the-fuck-up kiss. Just to see. Just to know.

Would it make the tension go away? Or would it ignite it like gasoline on a match?

But she never acted on it.

Instead, she left him another Post-it:

Stop leaving your wet towel on the bathroom floor. Again.

Underneath it, scribbled smaller:

P.S. Thanks for the tea.

That night, the towel was gone.

And a new Post-it appeared on the fridge:

P.S. You’re welcome.

The next morning, she found a protein shake waiting for her on the counter.

And a note stuck to it:

Try it. Not poison. Swear. —JK

She blinked at it, then cautiously took a sip.

It was actually… good.

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself. “Of course it is.”

That night, she left him a tiny Tupperware container of her homemade kimchi fried rice with a sticky note:

Apology for calling your blender Satan.

Next morning?

Apology accepted. But Satan has better manners.

She snorted into her coffee. She didn’t know what they were now.

Enemies? Allies? Passive-aggressive friends with incredible timing?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t simple. And it sure as hell wasn’t boring.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

It happened one night after a storm rolled in.

The power went out. The whole building fell silent except for the rain tapping against the windows like impatient fingers.

Y/N sat on her bed in the dark, knees drawn to her chest. She hated storms. Not because of the thunder, but because it reminded her of that night—the fight before he cheated. The storm when Sanho had promised forever and gave her betrayal instead.

She didn’t cry. But her fingers clutched the blanket like it was the only thing tethering her to the earth.

There was a soft knock.

She looked up.

Jungkook stood in the doorway, shirtless, his phone flashlight casting a faint glow across his face. Shadows clung to his jaw, his collarbones slick with humidity. His usual cocky expression had been replaced with something gentler. Something careful.

“You good?” he asked, voice low, words soft like he was trying not to scare her further.

She nodded, but didn’t speak. Her throat was too tight. Her silence said more than her voice ever could.

He hesitated, shifting on his feet like he didn’t know whether to leave or stay.

Then, without a word, he stepped inside, tossed a hoodie onto the bed, and sank down beside her—back against the wall, legs stretched out. His phone light clicked off, and for a moment, they were just silhouettes in the dark.

Silent company.

She didn’t thank him.

He didn’t need her to.

“I’m not gonna cuddle you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she muttered, trying to disguise the break in her voice with sarcasm.

He let out a low laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But he didn’t move.

They sat there. No notes. No insults. Just quiet breaths in the dark, surrounded by the storm.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she did—shoulder barely touching his. Something about the solid weight of him nearby. The calm of his presence when everything else was loud.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

Jungkook’s POV

She fell asleep against his arm.

Her breathing evened out, lashes resting against her cheek like spider silk. Soft. Peaceful. Her face, usually sharp with wit and layered defenses, looked younger in sleep. Almost fragile.

Jungkook sat still.

He hadn’t meant to come in. But when the lights went out and he saw her bedroom door cracked open—something tugged. The kind of instinct that came from watching someone suffer in silence for weeks and pretending you didn’t care.

But he did. Fuck, he did.

He told himself it was curiosity. Or maybe roommate guilt. But sitting there now, staring at her—he knew it was more.

It wasn’t just the way she looked, though she was beautiful—undeniably so, in a way that hit you slow and then all at once. It was the weight of her silence. The grief she never named. The brokenness she carried like it was her fault.

He used to think she was dramatic.

Now, he knew she was just surviving.

He leaned his head back, watching the flashes of lightning cast shadows across the ceiling. His hand twitched beside hers. He wanted to touch her. Just once. Maybe tuck her hair behind her ear. Maybe press a palm to her back and tell her she wasn’t alone.

But he didn’t.

Because he wasn’t sure he could stop at just one touch.

And then—there was a knock.

He stiffened.

Carefully, he lifted her hand from where it had slipped onto his thigh, laying it gently on the blanket. She didn’t stir.

Another knock. Louder this time.

He moved through the apartment barefoot, muscles tense, heart inexplicably pounding.

He opened the door.

A guy stood on the other side. Tall. Soaked. Hair plastered to his forehead like he’d been running through the rain. Brown leather jacket. Shifty eyes.

“Is Y/N here?” the guy asked.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Sanho.”

The name hit him like a punch to the gut. Oh.

Of course it was him.

Jungkook leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. “She’s sleeping.”

Sanho tried to peer inside. “She lives here?”

“She does.”

“With you?”

A pause. A beat.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said slowly. “With me.”

Sanho’s eyes narrowed. “Are you her boyfriend?”

The question hung in the air like a match waiting to be struck.

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. “No.”

But something in him wished he could say yes.

Sanho scoffed. “Right. Look—can you just tell her I stopped by? I didn’t know she was… living like this.”

Jungkook’s brow rose. “Living like what?”

“I mean… with some dude she barely knows? After everything? Kind of reckless, don’t you think?”

That did it.

Jungkook stepped out, pushing the door half-shut behind him.

“You don’t get to judge her,” he said, voice low and sharp. “Not after what you did.”

Sanho rolled his eyes. “It was one mistake. People cheat all the time—”

“You touched someone else while she waited for you to come home. You made her feel crazy for suspecting what she already knew. That’s not a mistake, that’s fucking manipulation.”

Sanho’s jaw clenched. “Why do you even care?”

Jungkook stepped closer.

“Because I see the way she flinches when she hears the front door open. Because she can’t walk into a storm without shaking. Because she smiles like it hurts. And you’re the reason.”

Silence.

Sanho scoffed. “You trying to be her hero now?”

“No,” Jungkook said, eyes dark. “I’m trying not to beat the shit out of the guy who broke her.”

Sanho stared him down, but he didn’t have a comeback. Just swallowed hard and turned.

“I’ll tell her you came by,” Jungkook said, stepping back inside. “But don’t come back. She’s not yours to hurt anymore.”

He shut the door. Hard.

The echo followed him down the hall.

𓏔 🪑 ✿🥛🐈

The next morning, Y/N woke up groggy.

The storm had passed. Pale light slipped through the curtains. Her skin smelled faintly of rain and laundry detergent—and something warm, something familiar.

Jungkook’s hoodie.

She blinked and sat up slowly.

Her bedroom door was cracked. No sign of him.

She stretched, then padded into the kitchen in bare feet. Reached for her tea—and froze.

A yellow Post-it was stuck to the fridge.

His handwriting.

Your ex was here last night.

No commentary. No opinion. Just information.

Her stomach twisted. She took the note down slowly, eyes scanning it twice.

And right under it, smaller writing she hadn’t noticed before:

I told him not to come back.

Note : hey tumblr !

i’m ario and this is my first time here.hoping this little corner of the internet treats me kindly .i’m here to make memories, meet moots, and maybe even share some soft chaos.kisses, comfort, and kind energy are always welcome 💌

lots of love,

xo ario 💋

[iarchmybaculaa]

Pairing: Ex! Jungkook x reader

Rating: 18+ (Please be mindful of what you consume)

Warnings: Jungkook is subjectively a little toxic, Mentions of an ongoing divorce, possessive! Jungkook, Girl Dad! Jungkook, unprotected sex (don't do that irl), oral sex (f receiving), Slight brat reader, Jeon Jungkook is a menace, reader is implied to be black

Word count: 5.2 k (I think)

🎧: Woo- Rihanna

For: @hobicakess and Paige💗

Jungkook is good at a lot of things

Hes a fantastic singer. He dances very well (even if he likes to fein shyness at parties). Jungkook can cook, he can multitask seamlessly and (almost) effortlessly, and he can put Jinhae to sleep in a matter of minutes… It would be much easier to list the things that Jungkook isn't good at.

Jungkook isn't very good at sharing.

He doesn't like sharing food, clothes or people.

You think it may be his biggest if not only flaw.

Jungkook considers the people in his life his. He doesn't expect them to have the same importance in someone else's life, as they do in his. And he doesn't expect them to think of other people the way they do of him, either.

You don't know if it's because he fears that he'll be replaced, or because he was raised as an only child. But whatever it was, Jungkook let it consume him. Holistically.

You remember how he had reacted when Yoongi- his mentor,had taken on a new intern. Jungkook and Yoongi had attended the same highschool within a few years of each other; and had met again when Yoongi was a TA at SNU. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing, as less of a student, and more like a little brother; and their bond lasted way beyond college. Yoongi was so proud of Jungkook that he was practically All he spoke about. Jungkook had gotten used to things being that way.

Then one day, all of a sudden, Yoongi was no longer “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook”; he was all “Jimin, Jimin, Jimin” much to the Younger's chagrin.

To his credit, Jungkook was nothing but nice to Jimin during the time he worked for Yoongi. He bought him coffee once in a while and even invited him out for drinks whenever the opportunity arose. Jimin was cool. Jungkook would even go as far as to say that Jimin was his friend. Jungkook barely knew the guy! He had nothing against him.

It was Yoongi he was pissed at.

Yoongi was the one who owed Jungkook his loyalty. Yoongi was the one who had nursed Jungkook through his first hangover, and held him when he cried about failing a class. Yoongi was there when Jungkook got his first, off campus apartment. Yoongi was Jungkook 's Yoongi.

At first, Yoongi didn't understand it. It made no sense that Jungkook seemed so fond of Jimin, yet he soured whenever the latter's name was mentioned. It gave him whiplash. It went on for a solid month and a half of Jungkook's scowls and petulant pouts for Yoongi to finally realize that something was deeply wrong, and that he needed to get to the bottom of it.

It took 2 bottles of soju and 3 glasses of whiskey for Jungkook to crack. His reasoning was so funny that Yoongi almost didn't feel bad for laughing at him. All it took to pacify Jungkook was for Yoongi to give him a hug, followed by a quick

“you'll always be hyung's favourite, Kook-ah.” as he ruffled his hair.

Jungkook was only 22 when that had happened. And he'd like to believe he's grown a lot since then.

He's advanced enough in his career that he's not Mr. Bang's payroll anymore, but rather pays him. Jungkook has grown in a literal sense too, having had a growth spurt one random day after he turned 23 (there was no containing him once he realized that he was 6 feet tall) .

Jungkook has (helped) create life; your daughter Jinhae. It's the thing he's proudest of, second only to marrying you.

But Jungkook is only human.

So it's only natural that he feels an itch rise on the back of his neck everytime he picks Jinhae up from your apartment, and all she can talk about is your new boyfriend.

He got so…irritated the more Jinhae babbled on about “Woo- Woo” that he felt a little silly. But who could blame him? He would be holding Jinhae 's hand as they walked through the park for their daddy daughter time, and every other sentence would be about this ‘’Woo Woo”.

Seokjin had once joked that she had switched from being 'Daddy's girl' to 'Woo-Woo’s girl' , and Jungkook 's body took a screenshot. He shot Jin a look so vile, that the older stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

Jungkook really had tried to ignore it as best as possible. And he (thought) he was doing fairly well until that evening, when Jinhae had let it slip that:

‘’Mama kissed Woo-Woo today.”

He had just picked her up from her taekwondo class, and was about to pull out of the parking lot when Jinhae gave him the oh so lovely news.

Jungkook isn't a monster, he thinks he's let this little charade go on for much longer than was respectable. He wasn't going to let that slide.

He took a sharp left and sped down the highway. If he wasn't so caught up in his head, he would've heard Jinhae 's excited scream of:

“YAY! we're going to Uncle Yoonie's house’

You had just finished taking a long, warm bath. Your feet had been aching, and your back felt worse than it did before you had gotten your epidural. You needed a break; desperately.

The silence in the apartment was a welcome change.

You loved Jinhae with all your heart, but children were tiring to deal with alone. Children could be incredibly difficult, just for the fun of it. Especially spoilt, almost-five year olds who are used to their daddy obeying their every beck and call.

God forbid you didn't do “ the voice” right, after reading “The little Prince” five times in a row! suddenly you were public enemy number one.

At least you could bask in the fact that Jinhae never threw (noisy) tantrums or threw things, but you felt that she had quadruple the attitude your hus- ex, accused you of having.

But tonight, the only attitude you have to worry about dealing with, was from Kim when you researched the earliest seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians. What can you say? There's truly nothing funnier to you than upper class white women trying to be relatable. To this dat, their target audience was a mystery to you. You can't think of a single person whose biggest problem was how many times their name got googled in a day. You find it hard to take anything they ‘’go through' seriously, because if we're being honest, people really are dying Kim!

You walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft white robe.

You reach for the the lilac, silk pajama set laid out on your bed. You had bought it from an online lingerie store, after a few glasses of wine a few weeks ago. You had been so…bored that you did the most exciting thing your numb brain could come up with in that moment.

You scoff at your past self. It was more cute than anything, not nearly as scandalous as some of the items you have hidden in the back of your closest. But you're not complaining.

The shorts are a bit shorter than you expected, but the silk is soft a high quality, and the lace that lines the top isn't itchy at all. You untwist your bun, and your braids cascade down your shoulders. You grab the bottle of black castor oil from your dresser, and run the nozzle along the parts. You sigh as you reach up to massage your scalp.

It's in little moments like these that you miss Jungkook the most. You hate to admit, but you used to be just as spoilt as Jinhae. Jungkook used to pamper you in every way possible. He would oil your scalp for you, order your hair products months in advance so that you'd never run out, and give you massages whenever your shoulders stood too rigid.

But you didn't have Jungkook anymore. You suck your teeth in annoyance at yourself for thinking about him so much.

You had just finished applying your vitamin c serum to your face, when you heard an incessant pounding on your door. You pause your music just as Kali Uchis asks if she can get a kiss. You're confused as to why someone is knocking on your door, when you have a very obvious doorbell attached to the frame. It's even stranger given what time it is.

You slip your feet into your cow print night slippers, as you step off the plush rug that lay on the floor in front of your vanity; and unto the floor.

The slippers slap against the floor as you walk towards the living room, and to whoever the hell wouldn't stop pounding on your door at 9pm on a Friday.

You throw the door open, ready to demand an explanation when you stop dead in your tracks.

To say you're surprised at who is standing at your door would be an understatement. You're not sure who you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't Jungkook. You're even more surprised to see him without Jinhae in tow.

You don't think that you've been alone with Jungkook for more than a few minutes at a time since the divorce; and even so, Jinhae has always been just a few feet away.

You feel worry start to settle in your stomach.

“Where's JJ? Is she okay?” You ask, praying that what came out of his mouth next isn't bad news.

He chuckes. It's a sound that comes from deep inside his chest and reverberates across the empty hallway. It's an empty laugh, with no humour behind it. It makes a chill run up and down your spine.

“Jinie is fine. She's with Yoongi; and she's the last of your worries right now” he says.

For once, Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile the entire time he's been in your presence. It's obvious that he's mad, but you're not sure at what. You're not sure that you vare.

He isn't wearing a suit right now, and you can't recall the last time you'd seen him in anything but.

Jungkook worked extraordinarily long hours. You knew that working late and being burnt out would be a part of his life, especially the more his business grew, but it hadn't phased you at the time. There was nothing to be phased about.

At the time, Jungkook always put you first. And when Jinhae was born, he did the same thing. There was never a time where he had left you to fend for yourself with a newborn. He had been there through it all. From colic, to 3 am feedings to explosive diaper changes. He had never let you feel alone as a parent, or in your marriage.

Until around 8 months ago that is.

8 months ago, you feel like Jungkook had just stopped trying.

You know for a fact that Jungkook is terrified of being poor. It's why he always has another merger to make with one of his three companies, and dips his toes into every industry imaginable. His influence spanned over tech, real estate and even clothing. You think Jungkook's fear is understandable, you don't think it's fair. It was teetering on the edge of paranoia and greed.

He was trying so bad to make sure that he could take care of his family, that he wasnt.

He would get home from work after Jinhae went to bed, and left before she got ready for school. You had spent one too many nights falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home; only to wake up in your bed the next morning with a handwritten note on your bathroom mirror. They were sweet and all..but not much more.

As much as you appreciated the affirmations, his words meant nothing when there was no action behind them. Promises to come home home early the, family outings that never happened… You felt like you were a kid whose love was expected to be bought with money, and placated with empty commitments all over again. You could count on a bouquet of roses being delivered at your door every morning, more than you could count on your own husband being there.

You hated it.

You were starting to hate him.

It had gotten to a point where Jungkook had just given his secretary reign over his personal phone. You almost lost your mind when you had called him to ask what he wanted for dinner once, and she answered and told you that he was busy.

You could hear Jungkook 's laughter in the background, and the noise was not a professional setting. In fact, it sounded a lot more intimate and cozy. Like a restaurant or small bar. You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't even get the chance to talk to Jungkook about it, because you barely saw him.

The look on his face when you served him the divorce papers in person at his office was borderline comical. His eyes had widened so far out of their sockets, that you thought the expression was causing him physical pain. You had said nothing. You simply handed him the papers and stayed long enough for him to read the heading. He clearly wanted to communicate through words on paper, so who were you to not oblige him with some?

As far as you know, Jungkook had never signed the papers, but he did follow all the other conditions you had outlined in your petition for separation.

He got an apartment for you and Jinhae in a building he didn't own, and was never late for any pickups or dropoffs, save for once when he had the flu.

A part of you had forgotten how young Jungkook was.

The suits he wore aged him plenty. Not in an old, haggard way, but in a way that made him appear more refined and serious than he actually was. His hair was always cut short and clicked away from his face. The collars of his shirts were always ironed to sharpness. Hell, he even wore sensible shoes.

If you hadn't seen every inch of Jungkook 's body before, and gone to college with him…You would have pegged him for an uptight dogooder. You're sure it helped him get taken seriously in the corporate world, but overtime, it was as if Jungkook had forgotten his roots. As if he had morphed into a no nonsense, mormon-esque version of himself.

But the Jungkook standing before you now, is the Jungkook you know and lov- respected. Jungkook who proudly wore his colorful sleeve of tattoos,silver hoops through his lips and a stud in his nose. The Jungkook who liked to wear cargo pants and oversized shirts with stomper boots he could barely walk straight in.

You knew he had showered before he had come over, because his hair was still curly. He hadn't blow-dried it. His hair is much longer than it was when you had last saw him. It fell past his eyes now. He had started growing it out sgain because Jinhae told him she wanted to. At least, that's what he had told you.

What had really happened was that Jinhae had been asking a lot of questions about “ when appa wasn't so old” one Saturday when they had gone out for ice cream.

“Appa, Mommy says your hair used to be w-eally long and pwetty. Can it come back? Mommy misses it.”

Jungkook hadn't cut his hair again since.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” He asks, one eyebrow raised at you.

You fold your arms across your chest.

“I'm not sure why I should. Besides, I don't think that this is a good time.”

“Oh? Why's that? You lip expecting someone else,princess?’ He takes in your attire from head to toe. His eyes linger for a little too long in your chest. His voice goes deeper as he struggles to finish his last question.

You don't answer, and it makes his eye twitch.

It's so ridiculous, yet so on brand of him to create a hypothetical scenario in his head and get all eaten up about it. He takes a deep breath.

He doesn't want to blow his fuse. Not here, Not yet.

“ I need to talk to you. Inside. Please.” He asks, but it's not really a request.

You roll your eyes and turn your back to him as you walk away.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches your ass jiggle in the tiny shorts. He enters behind you, and the door closes softly with a click.

You walk over to the fridge and grab the unfinished can of Arizona Iced tea, and a glass from the cupboard. You were looking forward to having a glass of wine tonight, but if you were going to talk to Jungkook… you needed to be stone cold sober.

“You want anything?” You ask, as you pour the content into the glass. “ I think I have some b-”

“What I want is answers.” He says simply, leaning in the arched entryway.

You look at him with confusion written all over your face, before your pettiness takes over.

“ Oh yeah? Well I wanted signed divorce papers, and yet here we are.”

You take a swig from your cup and let the sweetness of the drink coat your tongue.

You see Jungkook release a breath so deep that his entire body shakes.

“ Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says with his arms crossed against his chest. “Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

You're getting irritated now, because for one, what the hell is he talking about, and two…Who was Jungkook to talk to you like that?

“Jungkook. First of all, she's our kid. And secondly, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And even if I did… I wouldn't tell you jack shit. What or who I do is none of your business.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the threshold and starts walking towards you. His steps are slow and strong. His strides are long,and he has your back pressed into the counter in a matter of seconds.

You haven't been so close to Jungkook in so long, that everything about him overwhelms you in the best way possible. He smells so, so good. He smells like sandalwood and warm vanilla. He smells like home. His proximity to you is dizzying, and you can only pray that you'll keep it together.

He puts his arm on one side of you, leaving your left completely open. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. You stayed in place. It tells him everything he needs to know.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind Y/N?” He questions. He reaches for your left hand and your heart sinks down to your ass. The diamond of your wedding ring glitters under the lights hanging from the the ceiling. The princess cut stone is practically mocking you.

“What do you think I gave you this ring for huh? Fun? Fucking decoration?” He jests, “You know, for someone who never shuts her big mouth up about divorce, you sure keep this on don't you baby?”

You don't deny it. There's no point in doing so. You know that if you do, he'll lift the ring upwards. And you know that when he does, he'll find the unmistakable circle of a tan line wrapping around your ring finger.

He strokes his thumb against your cheek, and you almost preen at his touch. “Who's ‘Woo- Woo’ baby?”

“None of your business.” You bite out.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick skull, that you are my business?!”

He runs his hand through his long hair, and you can see his face so much better. He's as beautiful as you remember and he's right in front of you.

You don't know who leaned in first, but you do know how soft lips feel as they press against yours. You fell the metal of his lip piercings touch the roof of your mouth as you suck his lip into you mouth.

He puts his hand under your ass, and your legs wrap around him on instinct. He lifts you and bring you over to the cool marble of the kitchen island.

His hand tugs on the hem of your blouse, and you pull away from him.

“Kook, we can't.” You whine as you pull away.

Jungkook uses his thumb to wipe some of the spit from the corner of your mouth, and fixes your shirt so your boob is no longer at risk of spilling out.

“Okay baby, we'll stop and we can talk over dinner. Do you want me to make something or do you want to get takeout?” He asked as he pulls away from you.

He doesn't get very far, because you wrap your legs around him, and pull you back to him.

“Wait- I didn't really mean that.” You whisper. Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion that you weren't just talking about telling him no.

“You want me baby?”

You nod your head yes, too embarrassed to open your mouth lest your voice shake.

He cradles your face, and tilts it upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You answer affirmatively, reaching forwards to capture his lips again.

Youre not even thinking about the Pandora's box that you might be opening; and quite frankly? You don't care.

You're acutely aware that you wont be able to blame your decision on being drunk or tipsy. The only thing driving you was a burning need to have Jungkook deep inside you (where he belonged).

He litters kisses along your neck as he slides his hand down your shorts. Your hips buck forward on instinct, and you shudder as you feel his fingers ghost your clit.

“Why are you naked under here?” He growls out. grip tightening around you waist. “I'm starting to think that you were expecting someone tonight.” he muses.

He spreads your folds with two fingers, reveling in the way your arousal leaks out of you and unto his fingers.

“ Is that why you're so eager, baby? Hm? Is that why you're so wet? You decided that you were gonna get fucked one way or another? Is that it?”

He asks each question as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. It shallow. He doesn't allow you the pleasure of going further than his first knuckle. You try to grind down on his digits, but he holds your hips down with his free hand.

“Whoever you've been giving my pussy away to, hasn't been doing a very good job... have they?” He groans as you clench around him.

“Jungkook please. I want-”

“Shh baby, I know. I'll give it to you I promise. Just give me one first” he begs as he speeds up his circles on your clit.

He sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your neck, and you cum almost instantly. Your body shakes and you wrap your arms around his neck as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

You barely have time to recover before he's pulling your shorts down, and cleaning up the mess you made. He catches the slick of you orgasm on your tongue just as it starts running down your leg.

He goes at your pussy like a man starved. You cry out the moment his tongue enters you. You ride his tongue with vigor, gripping unto the counter for stability.

Jungkook pulls away from you for moment. His mouth is shiny from your juices, and his eyes are already so blown out that you want to fuck him even more.

He guides your hand to his hair, and encourages you to grab the tendrils.

“Use me, baby” he instructs.

His voice is so gravelly and raw, that you can do nothing but oblige him.

You grip the roots of his hair and push his head back between your legs. You both moan when he starts lapping at you again. You hold his head in place, guiding him where you want him; where you need him.

The second time you cum, your legs closed so tight around his head that Jungkook thought he had died and went straight to heaven.

You pull him away from your core by his hair, and bring him up to your face. You clean his face with your own tongue, and lean in to kiss him so you both taste like you. Your chests are still heaving when Jungkook carries you to your room.

He lays you gently on the bed, and takes his shirt off at the same time you toss your blouse over your head. He's about to undo the strings of his sweatpants when he stops cold in his tracks..

“ Shit, baby…I don't have any condoms. I didn't plan on this-”

“ It's okay,” You reassure him “ I'm clean. Are you?”

Jungkook looks a little scandalized. “Of course I'm clean, I haven't - I havent been with anyone except you since before we started dating.” His honesty shines so brightly in his eyes that you almost want to pull him into a hug.

You release a shaky, nervous breath you didn't know you had been holding.

“ Good. I want to feel you, all of you.”

The bed sinks as Jungkook climbs over you, one leg on each side of your body.

You've missed this view. Him on top of you, chain swining in your face, and big doe eyes filled with lust for you and only you.

He takes a hairtye from around his wrists, and pulls his hair into a low manbun. His cock is already painfully hard, red and leaking from the tip.

You spread your legs as Jungkook nestkes in-between them. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and presses a soft kiss to your calf.

He rubs himself between your folds, mesmerized by how quickly your wetness coats him.

He lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses.

“Are you sure you're ready baby? I don't want to hurt you.”

“ Is that it? Or are you scared that you don't hold a candle to ‘Woo-Woo’ my” you jest. Jungkook doesn't find it very funny.

He pushes himself into you, but as wet as you are, you're still so, so tight. Your pussy is so warm…hot even, that Jungkook almost cums the moment yes fully sheathed in you.

You're just as tight as he remembers, tighter even.

You both moan when he delivers his first thrust. You haven't had dick in so long,that you'd forgot what it felt like. How it felt like to have your walls stretched and your g spot caressed, how delicious and heavy the drag was inside you. How good Jungkook was at this. You feel so good that Jungkook practically forgets that he's supposed to be mad at you.

“You know you belong to me right?” Jungkook demands as he thrusts into you, slow and forceful. You don't answer and turn your face away from him He wraps his hand around your throat as speed up.

“Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!”

His thrusts become faster, punishing. He practically ploughs you into the mattress as whatever restraint he had before vanishes into thin air. You scream the more intense the pleasure gets.

“ I should fuck another baby into you, you know that? Hm? Should swell your tummy up with another one of my kids, so you have nine months to think about why the fuck you would do something as stupid as try to leave me.”

He finds your gspot as effortlessly as he usually does, and he hits it over and over and over again.

“Jungkook PLEASE” you cry. You reach your hand out to push against the hardness of his abdomen. He takes your hand and kisses it. You're so close. So fucking close, and Jungkook can tell.

“You want to cum, don't you baby?”

You nod frantically. Your pussy is practically raw from overstimulation, and you feel so much pressure building inside you that you don't know whether you want to run away from the pleasure or dive headfirst into it.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I need to please.”

“Then tell me. Fucking tell me you're mine”

“Fuck, I'm yours, Jungkook! Please!” you cry.

“ How many people have you fucked since you left? Answer me!” He commands you, adding a finger to your clit to the mix.

“Nobody, no one, Jungkook Please!”

“ I know baby, I just needed you to admit it.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to your temple. He gives you two more delicious thrusts that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Your lurches forward as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls convulse around him, squeezing him so tight that Jungkook feels a bit dizzy.

“Baby,” he whines “unwrap your legs so I can pull out.” He gasps when your legs only wrap tighter around him. “Baby, I have to-”

“N-no,” you protest “ I want it inside Jungkook please.”

He cums so forcefully that his orgasm leaves him winded and his arms almost give out. He spils his seed into you, and you feel the warmth of it coat your walls.

He pulls out of you as he begins to soften, and collapse beside you as he tries to catch his breath. You both turn to look at each other, and Jungkook offers you a soft smile.

He notices the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, and turns his head to switch your fan on.

That's when you see it. Your eyes bug out of their sockets.

“Jungkook, what the hell is that on your neck?”

“ What are you talking about?”

“Right there,” you turn his head to the right to get a better look. Your heart starts thumming uncontrollably in your chest. Because there it was, your name in bold black letters for everyone to see.

“Jungkook…When did you get that?”

“Hm…about five months ago?” he chuckles. He had the decency to look sheepish.

“Jungkook!” You say as you slap his chest “ We weren't even together!”

“ Correction, we are together, we just have separate living arrangements.”

You look at him incredulously.

“You're crazy, you know that?’

“About you? Yeah..Real crazy baby” he flirts “Hey, you never told me woo this ‘Woo-Woo’ guy is anyways .”

You roll you eyes at him as you climb of the bed.

“I can't tell you who he's not. He's not the one whose cum is dripping out of me right now. Are you gonna join me on the shower or what?”

Fin.

[taradactyls]

So I could be totally wrong but, I believe it was sort of expected that men/gentlemen lose their virginity before marriage in regency times. But I also there’s some fandom ‘debate’ about whether or not Mr Darcy would’ve had sex before getting married. So I was just curious about what your canon for Mr Darcy in T3W is. Is he a virgin or not?

I knew someone would ask me this eventually, haha. I've actually had really long conversations with my beta reader about this trying to figure it out. It sounds like this might all be stuff that you’ve already seen discussed in the fandom, but I’ve never thought about it deeply before and so these are new thoughts to me.

I keep going over the historical real-world likelihood, the authorial intent, and the text itself but I’m still not 100%. I’ll explain my thinking and what I find most likely, but here’s your warning that it’s not a clear cut yes/no.

Because on one hand, at that time period it was most common for men in his position to have seen sex workers or have casual encounters/mistresses with women from their estates. Though I do absolutely believe not all men did that, no matter how much wealth and power they had. To go back some centuries, William the Conqueror seemed to be famously celibate (no hints of male lovers either according to the biography I read) until his marriage, and there's no evidence of affairs after it either. The best guesses as to why are that it was due to his religious devotion and the problems that had arisen from himself being a bastard and not wanting to recreate that situation. Concerns over religion and illegitimate children would certainly still have been applicable in the regency to men who thought that way. And in modern times I've seen sex workers say that when an 18/21yo is booked in by his family/friends to 'become a man' often they end up just talking and agree to lie about the encounter. After all, it’s not like every man wants casual sex, even if they aren’t demisexual or something in that vein. But, statistically speaking, the precedent of regency gentlemen would make Darcy not a virgin.

On the other hand, just how aware was Jane Austen, the very religious daughter of a country rector, of the commonness of this? There’s a huge difference between knowing affairs and sex workers existed (and no one who had seen a Georgian newspaper could be blind to this) and realising that the majority of wealthy men saw sex workers at some point even if they condemned the more public and profligate affairs. The literature for young ladies at the time paints extramarital sex - including the lust of men outside of marriage - as pretty universally bad and dangerous. This message is seen from 'Pamela' and other gothic fiction to non-fiction conduct books which Jane Austen would have encountered. Here's something I found in 'Letters to a Young Lady' by the reverend John Bennett which I found particularly interesting as it's in direct conversation with other opinions of the era:

"A reformed rake makes the best husband." Does he? It would be very extraordinary, if he should. Besides, are you very certain, that you have��power to reform him? It is a matter, that requires some deliberation. This reformation, if it is to be accomplished, must take place before marriage. Then if ever, is the period of your power. But how will you be assured that he is reformed? If he appears so, is he not insidiously concealing his vices, to gain your affections? And when he knows, they are secured, may he not, gradually, throw off the mask, and be dissipated, as before? Profligacy of this kind is seldom eradicated. It resembles some cutaneous disorders, which appear to be healed, and yet are, continually, making themselves visible by fresh eruptions. A man, who has carried on a criminal intercourse with immoral women is not to be trusted, His opinion of all females is an insult to their delicacy. His attachment is to sex alone, under particular modifications.

The definition of a rake is more than a man who has seen a sex worker once, it's about appearance and general conduct too, but again, would that distinction be made to young ladies? Because they seem to simply be continuously taught 'lust when unmarried is bad and beware men who you know engage in extramarital sex.' As a side note, Jane Austen certainly knew at least something about the mechanics of sex: her letters and literature she read alludes to it, and she grew up around farm animals in the countryside which is an education in itself.

We can also see from this exert that the school of thought seems to be 'reformed rake' vs 'never a rake' in contention for the title of best husband, there's no debate over whether a current rake is unsuitable for a young lady. And, from Willoughby to Wickham to Crawford, I think we have a very clear idea of Jane Austen's ideas of how likely it is notably promiscuous men can reform. This does not preclude the possibility that her disparaging commentary around their lust is based more on over-indulgence or the class of women they seduce, but it's undoubtedly a condemnation of such men directly in line with the first part of what John Bennett says so it's no stretch to believe she saw merit in the follow-on conclusions of the second part as well. Whether she would view it with enough merit to consider celibacy the only respectable option for unmarried men is a bit unclearer.

I did consider that perhaps Jane Austen consciously treated this as a grey area where she couldn’t possibly know what young men did (the same reasoning is why we never see the men in the dining room after the ladies retire, etc) and so didn't hold an opinion on men's extramarital encounters with sex workers/lower-class women at all, but I think there actually are enough hints in her works that this isn’t the case. Though, unsurprisingly, given the delicacy of the subject, there’s no direct mention of sex workers or gentlemen having casual lovers from among the lower-classes in her texts.

That also prevents us from definitively knowing whether she thought extramarital sex was so common, and as unremarkable, as most gentlemen treated it. But we do see from her commentary around the consequences of Maria Bertram and Henry Crawford's elopement that she had criticism of the double standards men and women were held to when violating sexual virtue. Another indication that she perhaps expected good men to be capable of waiting until marriage in the way that she very clearly believed women should. At the very least, a man who often indulges in extramarital sex does not seem to be one who would be considered highly by Jane Austen.

She makes a point of saying, in regards to not liking his wife, that Mr Bennet “was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice.” This must include affairs, though cheating on a wife cannot be a 1:1 equivalent of single young men sleeping around before marriage. However, the latter is generally critically accepted to be one of the flaws that Darcy lays at Wickham’s door along with gambling when talking about their youth and his “vicious propensities" and "want of principle." Though this could be argued that it’s more the extent or publicity of it (but remembering that it couldn't be anything uncommon enough that it couldn't be hidden from Darcy Sr. or explained away) rather than the act itself, or maybe seductions instead of paying women offering those services. I also believe Persuasion mentioning Sunday travelling as proof of thoughtless/immoral activity supports the idea that Jane Austen might have been religious enough that she would never create a hero who had extramarital sex.

So, taken all together this would make Darcy potentially a virgin, or, since I couldn't find absolute evidence of her opinions, leave enough room that he isn’t but extramarital sex isn’t a regular (or perhaps recent) thing and he would never have had anything so established as a mistress.

I’ve also been wondering, if Darcy isn’t a virgin, who would he have slept with? I’ve been musing on arguments for and against each option for weeks at this point. No romantasy has ever made me think about a fictional man's sexual habits so much as the question of Darcy's sexual history. What is my life.

Sex workers are an obvious answer, and the visits wouldn’t have raised any eyebrows. Discretion was part of their job, it was a clean transaction with no further responsibilities towards them, and effective (and reusable, ew) condoms existed at this time so there was little risk of children and no ability to exactly determine the paternity even if there was an accident. It was a fairly ‘responsible’ choice if one wanted no strings attached. In opposition to this, syphilis was rampant at the time, and had been known to spread sexually for centuries. Sex workers were at greater risk of it than anyone else and so the more sensible and risk-averse someone is (and I think Mr Darcy would be careful) the less likely they would be to visit sex workers. Contracting something that was known as potentially deadly and capable of making a future wife infertile if it spread to her could make any intelligent and cautious man think twice.

Servants and tenants of the estate are another simple and common answer. Less risk of stds, it can be based on actual attraction more than money (though money might still change hands), and is a bit more intimate. But Wickham’s called wicked for something very similar, when he dallies (whether he only got to serious flirting, kissing, or sleeping with them I don’t think we can conclusively say) with the common women of Meryton: “his intrigues, all honoured with the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman's family.” And it isn't as though Wickham had any personal duty towards those people beyond the claims of basic dignity. Darcy, who is shown to have such respect and understanding for his responsibilities towards the people of his estate and duties of a landlord, would keenly feel if any of his actions were leading his servants/tenants astray and down immoral paths. Servants, especially, were considered directly under the protection of the family whose house they worked in. I think it's undoubtable that Mrs Reynolds (whose was responsible for the wellbeing - both physically and spiritually - of the female servants) would not think so well of Mr Darcy if he had experimented with maids in his youth. It would reflect badly on her if a family entrusted their daughter to her care and she 'lost her virtue' under her watch. Daughters/widows of others living on the estate not under the roof of Pemberley House are a little more likely, but still, if he did have an affair with any of them I can only think it possible when he was much younger and did not feel his duties quite so strongly. Of course lots of real men didn't care about any of this, but Darcy is so far from being depicted as careless about his duties that the narrative makes a point of how exceptional his quality of care was. Frankly, it's undeniable that none of Jane Austen's heroes were flippant about their responsibilities towards those under their protection. I cannot serious entertain an interpretation that makes Darcy not, at his current age, at least, cognizant of the contemporary problems inherent in sleeping with servants or others on his estate.

A servant in a friend’s house would remove some of that personal responsibility, but transfer it to instead be leading his friend’s servants astray and in a manner which he is less able to know about if a child did result. That latter remains a problem even if we move the setting to his college, so not particularly likely for his character as we know it… though it wouldn’t be unusual for someone to be more unthinking and reckless in their teenage years than they are at twenty-eight so I don’t think having sex then can be ruled out. Kissing I can much more easily believe, especially when at Oxford or Cambridge, but every scenario of sleeping with a lower-class woman has some compelling arguments against it especially the closer we get to the time of the novel.

Men did of course also have affairs with women of ranks similar to their own, though given Jane Austen’s well-known feelings towards men who ‘ruined’ the virtue of young ladies we can safely say that Darcy never slept with an unwed middle- or upper-class woman. Any decent man would have married them out of duty if it got so far; but if he was the sort to let it get so far, I think it impossible Jane Austen would consider him respectable. Widows are a possibility, but again, the respectable thing to do would be to marry them. Perhaps a poorer merchant’s widow would be low enough that marriage is off the table but high enough that the ‘leading astray’ aspect loses its master-servant responsibilities (though the male-female ‘protect the gentler sex’ aspect remains) but his social circle didn’t facilitate meeting many ladies like that. Plus, an affair with a woman in society would remove many layers of privacy and anonymity that sex-workers and lower-class lovers provided by simply being unremarkable to the world at large. It carries a far greater risk of scandal and a heavier sense of immorality in the terms of respecting a woman’s purity which classism prevented from applying so heavily to lower-class women.

I think it’s important to note here that something that removes the need to think about duties of landlords towards the lower-classes or gentlemen towards gentlewomen is having affairs with other men of a similar rank. But, aside from the risk of scandal and what could be called the irresponsibility of engaging in illegal acts, it’s almost certain that Jane Austen would never have supported this. For a devout author in this era the way I’m calculating likelihoods makes it not even a possibility. But if you want to write a different fanfiction (and perhaps something like a break-up could explain why Darcy doesn’t seem to have any closer friend than someone whom he must have only met two or so years ago despite being in society for years before that) it does have that advantage over affairs with women of equal- and lower-classes. I support alternate interpretations entirely – it just isn’t how I’m deciding things in this instance.

I keep coming back to the conclusion that, at the very least, Darcy hasn’t had sex recently and it was never a common occurrence. It wouldn’t surprise me if Jane Austen felt he hadn’t done it ever. Kissing, as we can see from all the parlour games at the time, wasn’t viewed as harshly, so I think he’s likely made out with someone before. But in almost every situation it does seem that the responsible and religious thing to do (which Jane Austen values so highly) is for it to never have progressed to sex. I also don’t think it conflicts with his canon characterisation to say that he wouldn’t regard sexual experience as a crucial element of his life thus far, and his personality isn’t driven to pursue pleasure for himself, so it’s entirely possible that he would never go out of his way to seek it. So, I’m inclined to think that the authorial and textual evidence is in favour of Darcy being a virgin even if the real-world contemporary standard is the opposite. (Though both leave enough room for exceptions that I’m not going to argue with anyone who feels differently; and even if you agree with all my points, you might simply weight authorial intent/textual evidence/contemporary likelihoods differently than I do and come to a different conclusion).

Remember that even if Darcy is a virgin this wouldn’t necessarily equate to lack of knowledge, only experience. There were plenty of books and artwork focused on sex, and Darcy, studious man that he is, would no doubt pay attention to what knowledge his friends/male relatives shared. Though some of it (Looking especially at you, 'Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure') should NEVER be an example of appropriate practice for taking a woman's virginity. Darcy would almost certainly have been taught directly or learnt through exposure to other men talking to make sex good for a woman – it was a commonly held misconception (since Elizabethan England, I believe) that women had to orgasm to conceive. It would be in his interests as an empathetic husband, and head of a family, to know how to please his wife.

Basically, I’m convinced Darcy isn’t very experienced, if at all, and will be learning with Elizabeth. But he does have a lot of theoretical knowledge which he’s paid careful attention to and is eager to apply.

[twinroomies]

AUTHOR UPDATE 4/28/25:

You know, normally I wouldn't put this here, but I realize a lot of you might not know who I am necessarily, so this might be funny. Don't get used to it, this is a Roomies blog primarily! Ever wonder what I do outside of this comic? It looks something like this: !!! (WARNING: FOUL LANGUAGE)

I'm a 3D Animator, I have my degree in it! I've worked all around the internet. I really, REALLY like fights, too, and this WILL come up I'm sure at LEAST ONCE. Torrian Crawford and Monty Oum are my IDOLS, I'm sure there's not much of an overlap in fanbases here, but I think it's fun to show people what else I do, ya know? Helps break up the monotony, spice it up a tad! As for the comic, I usually do these things in bursts, so I'd assume the next burst I get for this comic will see it completed. We have all the backgrounds done, the line art is mostly done, it's a matter of sitting down and finishing it now. Probably in a week or two. It should also come with new character sheets for Azzy and Chara, which is really what I'm dragging my feet on! Rendering is hard😆!

Anyways, have a great night, everyone! Stay safe, okay?

[aft4rhours]

Do you have any blog or fic recs for yandere or mafia BTS? You’ve got me obsessed now!

ily! 💗 and yes, in no particular order bc they're all from my reading lists:

@pynkgothicka — yandere ♡⃝ㅤgangsters ෆ, rockstars, scorned lovers

@aajjks — yandere ♡⃝ㅤemperors, bullies, hybrids, sugar daddies, horror movie aus (jungkook centric)

@jeonggukieverse — yandere ♡⃝ㅤthrillers, mind games, mafia ෆ (jungkook centric)

@taetaecherub — yandere ♡⃝ㅤbullies, stalkers, sweet boyfriends

@yoongsisbae — yandere ♡⃝ㅤlover jungkook, seven days a week and the fantasy

@luv-gukkie — yandere ♡⃝ doctors, stalkers, kidnappers, mafia ෆ

@kooktrash — yandere ♡⃝ coworker taehyung & boyfriend jungkook

@silv3rswirls — yandere ♡⃝ㅤstepbrothers, werewolves, serial killers

@sxtaep — yandere ♡⃝ㅤdance teacher hobi

@themochiverse — yandere ♡⃝ㅤmonster namjoon

@deepdarkdelights — yandere ♡⃝ㅤmonsters, ghosts, cults

here's a list of darker themed blogs if you're interested in dead dove content. enjoy! 🫂

[nabibaby143]

Starting to Write Fanfics!

Hello everyone! My name is Nabi and I have always been interested in writing fanfics. I want to write everywhere from bestie hangout to the smutty depths of this world :3 Im mostly interested in writing K-pop style fanfics but l'm open to any characters. Im just writing this to ask for ideas for fanfics (you can request on profile to) and tips and such from other fanfic writers.

Lots of love,

Nabi 🦋

PS. Im willing to do most kinks and such but I will not do non consensual or r@pe stories. Know that I may add kinks I will not do in the future to my profile.

[jungshookz]

y/n really wants a persimmon dragon jellycat and yoongi will fight anyone to get it for her 

i went to the toy store today for some birthday eve shopping and i got elbowed at least three times in the jellycat section trying to get my hands on the onyx dragon + my brother was actually the one who made the “and they’re all adults” comment so LOUDLY which was so embarrassing and that’s what inspired this teeny tidbit 

➺ pairing; roommate!yoongi x y/n (new pairing?? same universe as roomie!tae tbh except yoongi and y/n have never been enemies and have always been respectful of each other and they also just renewed their lease for another year so clearly they make great roommates) 

➺ genre; honk honk humour!!! yoongi is kind of chaotic in this LOL

➺ wordcount; 1.3k 

»»————- 🐉 ————-««

“oh, man… when do you think they’re going to let us in? because i asked the lady and she said ten minutes but that was like, half an hour ago…” you mutter, poking your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you get up on your tip-toes for a split second to look over the crowd and into the store

you saw the cutest jellycat online (it’s a blue and orange dragon and what makes it even more adorable is the fact that it’s called the persimmon dragon) and it was unfortunately sold out but the website said that it might be in stock at the toy store downtown - and it seems like you weren’t the only one who got that memo because when you and yoongi got here there was already a line around the corner 

and maybe you’re paranoid and you’re pretty sure that the store will have enough for everyone but you’ve been eavesdropping on people’s conversations and now you know there are at least three other people who are aiming to snag their very own persimmon dragon for the holiday season 

“ugh! i knew we should’ve come earlier.” you can’t help but pout before crossing your arms over your chest, “i told you we shouldn’t have stopped for coffee.”

“you made me get up at 8am just to come to the damn toy store. trust me, we needed the coffee - or at least i did.” 

“you know, i’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be a line to get into the store but people are just swarming around the entrance to try to elbow their way in,” you get back up on your tippy-toes and it seems like the entrance is so close yet so far, “this crowd is ridiculous!”

“you know what’s even more ridiculous is the fact that everyone here is an adult.” yoongi raises an eyebrow and you feel your face flush slightly when a handful of people turn around to shoot him a scowl, “you are all adults. lining up to buy expensive ass plushies.” he emphasizes, and you immediately reach over to pinch his arm before letting out a nervous laugh and offering a stranger a sheepish smile 

“sorry. don’t listen to him.” you chuckle, reaching up to rub the back of your neck, “he’s just- we- we love jellycats, he’s just kidding-“ 

“oh, it’s all good!” the stranger shrugs with a shoulder, “i mean, he’s not wrong.” 

“see?” yoongi looks over at you and you can’t help but shake your head before rolling your eyes 

“they’re adorable plushies and people are allowed to spend their adult money in whatever way they want. you spend money on your video games and i don’t judge you for that.” 

“you actually do judge me for that. all the time. in fact, you make fun of me when i show you my new skins on fortnite-“

“okay, but the difference between us is that a jellycat is a real item and your skins aren’t, you’re playing dress up with characters you can’t even touch-“

“they are very real to me, y/n-“

“the doors are open!” 

yoongi doesn’t get much of a chance to defend himself before the crowd of people start moving quickly, entering the store like a swarm of hives 

“okay, this is the game plan-“ you loop your arm with yoongi’s to keep him attached to your side, “you go in there and you go straight for the persimmon dragon. i don’t want anything else, i just need that dragon. and i want to treat myself to the bigger size, i don’t want that little one-“

“well, that’s hurtful to the little one, i didn’t realise you were discriminating towards sizes-“ 

“not now-“ you’re too focused on the task at hand to even entertain yoongi’s lame joke and as soon as you enter the store you feel your eyes darting around in an attempt to lock in on your target 

blue and orange blue and orange blue and orange 

bears, bunnies, even broccoli - it’s almost like you’re seeing every single jellycat except for the one you want and you know that this is supposed to be a wholesome activity, shopping for a cute little plushie, but whenever jellycat is involved it always turns into a bloodbath 

someone shoves past you holding at least five plushies in their arms and you can’t help but gawk because that has to be at least over $300 worth of jellycat plushies 

“oh, there!” you gasp, pointing towards the back when you finally spot the blue and orange coat of the persimmon dragon but the smile immediately drops on your face when you notice the girl next to you perking up and suspiciously picking up her pace towards your precious dragon 

your heart starts to beat faster when she pulls ahead and now you know she’s going for the dragon because it’s the last one on the shelf and you can quite literally sense her desperation to get to the back of the store (same, though) 

“how- ow, jesus- how important is it to you to get this plushie?” yoongi curses under his breath when someone steps on the back of his sneaker, “if you break it down, this is just cotton stuffing and fabric and like, two beads. we can totally DIY a jellycat-“

“IT’S NOT THE SAME-“ you whip around and yoongi is genuinely startled at the fire in your eyes, “i’ve been wanting the persimmon dragon for so long, i’ve literally had it on my wishlist and the only reason why i’m rewarding myself with it is because of the promotion i got at work-!” you get interrupted when someone accidentally swats your face with a purple bunny jellycat, making you let go of yoongi’s arm to reach up to smack it away and before you know it you’ve completely lost him in the crowd 

people are really starting to swarm now and you even hear a scream of excitement from somewhere and you look around, panicking as you try to figure out which way you’re supposed to be heading 

“hey, we got here first!” you hear a voice ring out and you turn to see that girl from earlier gripping onto the tail of the persimmon dragon 

“no you didn’t, we grabbed it at the same time, and you wouldn’t even have known this was here if it wasn’t for my friend!” yoongi snaps, and you almost let out a yelp when he tugs at the dragon with his hand wrapped around its neck, “you’re just a leech! give me the goddamn dragon-“ 

“i want it!”

“i want it more!” yoongi reaches over and flicks the girl on the forehead and she immediately lets go of the tail to reach up and press a hand against her forehead, “happy frickin’ holidays, good luck finding another magical blue and orange dragon-“

“yoongi, you can’t do that!” you manage to elbow your way over to him and he looks back and forth between you and the girl 

“well, do you want the dragon or not??”

you pause, looking at the dragon in his arms before turning to look at the girl (who now has a red mark on her forehead) 

“…happy holidays, i wish you the best of luck in finding another persimmon dragon-“ 

“you guys are dickheads-! what the fuck-“ the girl is dragged away by her partner and yoongi grabs your hand before leading you through the crowd, still busy as ever

“you’re buying this for me, by the way-“ yoongi holds up a little coffee bean plushie as he hands you your dragon, “these things are actually kinda cute.” 

🎙️ ask y/n about her jellycat collection (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[soft-for-yoongi]

Can someone please help me make a masterlist 🥴 I have no idea how y'all do it, and I want to make it easier for everyone to find my 20 plus fics 🫠🫠 I should probably search it up..

[hyungieyoongi]

I wanted to do a quick update for y’all to let you know why I have been a little bit MIA on writing fics lately—I am currently studying for the Bar Exam and it is taking up all of my creative and mental energy. I miss y’all, I miss Bangtan, and I miss writing. I hope to back to it sooner rather than later. Sending you all my love 💜 - E✨

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

My life. 😅

[broken-mandolin0357]

Hi! Can I ask for a fic with bts Jungkook, where reader is pregnant and has some difficulties during her pregnancy and Kook is super gentle and caring, making sure she's as comfortable as he can make her? Over all a bit angsty because of worried and concerned Kook, but super fluffy with the way he takes cake of his partner. ♥️

It would make me really happy if you wrote something like that, but of course it's up to you and whether you like it or not. ♥️

Thank you, take care! 😘

╚ Fluff|| Fluff, angst?|| Established relationship (marriage)|| headcanons|| GN! reader, but written with Fem! Reader in mind

╚ Sypnosis: "Pregnancy in one process which is the prettiest yet sometimes the cruelest process a lady goes through for lover...weird, no? But you're lucky, your husband loves looking after you!"

╚ Author's letter: Thank you for requesting this!! Sorry for releasing this late!! Though this is not something i'd write usually, I'm happy to write this!!

Jeon Jeongguk (전정국) X Pregnant! S/O

◆ Okay now we have particular stages of pregnancy and no, I don't mean the first, second and third trimester, I mean the different times in your pregnancy where you were treated completely different by Jungkook...

The reveal of pregnancy

◆Jungkook was with you in the gym and exercising, he was helping you in all the exercises like the sweetheart he was and something as on your mind, you were thinking how to reveal it to him that you were pregnant...Not like you were afraid he wouldn't want it because he's too much of a sweetheart and you both have been married for while now..But still...

◆ Jungkook was always playful, sweet, and sometime even sassy with you...Not like you minded, you knew what you signed up for and you loved him for being his sassy self and he would treat you like a independent person like you should be treated!!!

◆ You thought about it and even asked the members for suggestion on how to do it under the excuse on how they would think Jungkook would want to learn about your pregnancy, all of them had different ideas and you obviously got no-where....Until you decided to do it like any normal person, small but simply getting him a onesie in his favourite colour for your future bunny...

◆ You got home form shopping a bit and you were easily tired since your pregnancy...you fell asleep on the bed with Bam, with the bag with the onesie out thinking Jungkook was gonna take time to get home...unluckily, Jungkook came home early and saw the bag, he thought it was for him and wasn't trying to but couldn't resist seeing what was inside...and when he found the onesie...your symptoms started to make sense...

◆ The nausea, tiredness and nose bleeds and other good stuff...He immediately got behind you and became the big spoon, holding your stomach...He was SO excited for it...He cried a few tears wiping them on your top's shoulder and kissed your cheek, holding the onesie tightly in his hand as he held your stomach and slept with you...

◆ When you woke up found him immediately kissing you again and again and smiling at your tummy and kissing your tummy as well...And that is when you realized he found out because you literally fell asleep putting the bag in front of his face... Your mentally slapped yourself, but smiled because at-least you were gonna have a baby with the one you loved the most...No?

The first few weeks...

◆ The first few weeks ere fine, with Jungkook revealing your pregnancy to everyone; the members and your parents and his parents and your family and his family and yeah..

◆ He was pretty chill with you during the first few weeks but did put a bit of restrictions on certain things like NO alcohol, sushi, raw meat and those types of things...I mean he has a point and of-course you followed those rules!

◆ Jungkook would also kind of make sure you're not training too hard during gym dates with him...Making sure you don't lift too heavy weights, you don't get your heartbeat over 180 beats per min, made sure you had plenty of water, a change of clothing, made sure to escort you to the toilet to pee a million times with a smile on his face, you know just being a bit protective...Nothing too much!!

◆ Jungkook would hold your hands when you walked down stairs, up stairs, made sure you wouldn't slip on the floor after getting out of shower, you didn't eat anything that made you feel sick and all that!!

v The first time he saw the baby at the ultrasound...he definitely cried a few tears and as you laid on the bed, Jungkook siting beside you face buried in your chest as he cried a bit of tears as you pat his head...Jungkook slowly looked up from his positing of his face buried in your chest to stare at the baby and smiled at it and kissed you and you had to manage him being a bit lovey-dovey during the next few days...

The first kick, first craving and the first time Jungkook cried because he wanted to have the baby out of you and in his arms.....

◆ Slowly the weeks passed and your stomach definitely grew...He would literally share everything in his closet with you and even brought you clothing matching him which is made to accommodate to your pregnant belly throughout the pregnancy from the first month to the ninth and of-course you cried and he spend the next few minutes holding you on his lap and kissing you and comforting you cluelessly...

◆ Jungkook would take you on a good babymoon and he even brought along the boys so they could all celebrate being the crazy boys they are and give you a free show and you ended up crying because you were so thankful to them for making you smile and the boys especially had to comfort you saying they were basically your brothers and friends and whatnot and you shouldn't cry and yeah that did not help cause you cried more because it made you more happy...

◆ All the boys are a bit clueless except Namjoon, cause when Jungkook wouldn't allow you to have coffee or caffeine cause it would be bad for the baby, Namjoon came to your rescue saying it was okay for pregnant women to consume a certain amount of and yeah he saved you...

◆ Jungkook is also kind of insecure along-side you, despite following you to every appointment and class...he feels as though he would never be enough for the baby, often leaving them out of the picture as a idol or the child would have to live upto the harsh standard his father made which they wouldn't be able to follow and start to hate him...Of-course that's not true as you let him cry into your belly comforting him by running your fingers through his hair and explaining how he would be the best father rather than he worst husband!!

◆ Jungkook once saw you get insecure about your stretch marks and god....what thing she did that night to make sure you found it beautiful as he fucked you...punishing you for when you degraded yourself and praised you the whole night and made sure....to leave many hickeys near your stomach to find in the morning ....It was one blessed night and he got scared he hurt you in the morning...

◆ Oh and speaking of sex..he barely has sex with you, not that there's anything wrong, he finds you very sexy and beautiful but still kind of scared he will crush the baby or something even though you explained that not only was sex a good way to kick-start labor but also the baby won't even feel you both having sex...still he felt embarrassed by it and you didn't have sex for until the baby was out...

◆ And as you reached closer to your ninth month...Oh god...the switch in Jungkook flipped because you were no longer allowed to lift weights in the gym....no jumping, no rough cardio, no those types of stuff where you sweat a lot, become kind of drained and feel pain...he ain't gonna risk shit! He was treating you like a small newborn kitten...you didn't hate it..but still...it took him...a lot to be convinced to let you move around a bit...you get to play with Bam, so that's good!!

The closer the due date got...

◆ Oh and the time when the due date got closer he was so fucking stressed he revealed your pregnancies to ARMY and they of-course were head-over-heels to say hello to Jungkook's baby despite knowing they won't see it's face they didn't care about that, everyone send gifts and so much more to Jungkook the next fanmeet...

◆ You and Jungkook didn't even have to shop for ninety percent of the things as you got everything from fans themselves, still for safety reasons you made sure there wasn't any camera attached and everything and even the boys got you a lot of things...the baby was gonna be spoiled rotten as you would have guessed...

◆ Jungkook also get EXTREMELY protective during this time cause he felt you were very vulnerable during this time...and made sure you didn't leave the house a lot, unless VERY important he got everything for you or got someone to do it!!

◆ Jungkook made sure the crib and everything was set and packed your hospital bags 2 months in advance just incase....And he would wash the baby stuff's and clothes a million times and make sure everything was spotless for them for when they come home!!

◆ Held your hand very tightly through the whole labor and delivery and when he held the baby, he definitely cried and the boys though teased a bit were very happy for him if not more than you and Jungkook, they helped Jungkook in all the fatherly duties cause the boy is still a baby at heart and everyone listens to the maknae no? Your baby definitely grew to be very humble yet spoiled.....

© the header and writing belong to me, broken-mandolin, Aurelia, Moon, Kiara. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for ready and if you like this check out my blog!

[savior-of-the-ink]

It's been exactly one year since I first played Titanfall 2