#aşk ı memnu

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Aşk-ı Memnu | JJK

Pairing: non idol! Jungkook x fem! married! Reader

Summary: What is prohibited, it's desired the most. Or in which you tangle yourself in a forbidden love with Jeon Jungkook while being married to an older man. Yet it is also said that forbidden fruits taste the best.

Warnings: fluff, angst, forbidden love, food ingestion, cheating, age gap, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption (during dinner), lying, mentions of death, reader is described to be shorter than Jungkook, (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.8k

~Prompt 3: Saying “I love you” for the first time

~Snowflakes divider by @samspenandsword

~Prompt list by @flightlessangelwings

A/N: This short story was highly inspired by the Turkish novel of the same name "Aşk-ı Memnu" which translates as "Forbidden Love" in English. Let me know what you thought of this controversial story in the comments!

You can listen to the series' music on Spotify to get into ambience as it helped me a lot to write this. Just search it with the same Turkish name. Happy reading everyone!

Love knows no boundaries. Love is untamable, like the sea. Like a flame. It exists, it consumes. It destroys.

It was cold outside, the night was heavy over the city. Snow was falling from the sky yet the house was warm. The clicking of the cutlery against the expensive china plates could be heard along with the flickering flames of the fireplace.

You sat next to your husband, the man clearly enjoying his dinner and you couldn't help but smile softly at his praises for the new cook.

"So, tell me Seokjin. How is your father?"

Asked your husband, a rich business man by the name of Lee Yong-su. Seokjin smiled against his glass of wine, he put it down and looked at your husband, the two men happily engaging in conversation.

"He's quite well, actually. His treatment is going smoothly and we expect a complete recovery by the end of February."

"Give him my regards when you see him, Seokjin."

The young businessman turned to look at you, bowing his head softly at you not minding at all the fact that you were younger than him.

"Of course, Mrs. Lee."

You smiled kindly at him before the conversation between Seokjin and your husband took place once more. You continued to enjoy your dinner, allowing your thoughts to wander for a bit.

The marriage with your husband had been really controversial given the age difference between you both and the fact that he already had two children with his other wife that you knew had passed away.

Nisun was the oldest. A seventeen year old girl who resented you for taking the place of her mother. Munwoo was the youngest, he was twelve and the innocent boy never ceased to claim that if you ever divorced his father, he'd marry you instead for he had always wanted to marry a beautiful woman when he was of age.

You found it cute whenever he mentioned something like that, only smiling at Munwoo before he got distracted with his videogames once more.

But those weren't the only people that lived in the mansion when you married your husband. There was someone else. A person you had met before you became Yong-su's wife.

Jeon Jungkook.

You knew that he was the only son of one of your husband's closest friends that had sadly died in a car accident when Jungkook was barely five years old. Yong-su had taken him under his wing, providing for him and taking care of him as if he were his own son.

Jungkook was also twenty-six, just like you. And that was the first motive so as to why you two clicked so easily. Yet that fact was the beginning of a web of lies and passion that you had never thought you’d be a part of. 

He was also very handsome, a sleeve of tattoos adorned his right arm, his lip and eyebrow were pierced and his hair was rebellious like his soul. Jungkook was a really attractive man and, according to his own phrasing, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. 

Lust ruled your relationship with the son of your husband’s best friend. Desires of the body, flames of the heart. Feelings were never involved, or at least that was what was planned in the very beginning. 

But to be honest, nothing was ever planned. This mess you were now tangled in started with a glance, continued with a kiss and ended with you in his bed. Sentiment was never supposed to happen. Everything was dominated by a mutual carnal infatuation. 

You weren’t in love with your husband. The marriage had only been a great opportunity for you and your soft revenge on your cruel mother but Yong-su was deeply in love with you. To him, it didn’t matter the nearly twenty years age gap between you both. It didn’t matter that he had been married before. It didn’t matter he already had two children. He loved you, he cherished you, he wanted you almost in a fierceful way. 

“Darling, are you alright? You aren’t usually this quiet during dinner.”

Looking at your right, you met the concerned gaze of your husband, you smiled slightly though not fully. 

“I’m alright, I just have a headache.”

Yong-su frowned, you felt the eyes of everyone on you, even Jungkook’s gaze. It burned you to even know he was looking at you. 

“Don’t worry about me, dearest.”

Silence filled the room after those words left your lips before soft conversations began to arise once more on the table. The children started talking about a new movie that was going to come out next week while your husband and Seokjin talked about business. Jungkook was still looking at you and you were able to read the concern in his dark eyes. 

You smiled at him, ever so delicately and he nodded subtly. Taking in your silent reassurance as he resumed his dinner. 

Butterflies flew in your stomach at his concern. At what you had seen in his eyes. Those hidden emotions behind his gaze. A dark galaxy you loved getting yourself lost in. The place where you found comfort during lonely nights and a refuge when your soul tormented you. Yet the fact that your love was forbidden only made you want it more. It attracted you more. You desired it more. You needed it more. Needed him. As if you were metal and Jungkook was your magnet. Like a forbidden fruit. Prohibited yet delicious.

“Are you alright?”

You knew that voice. Its raspiness did things to you that shouldn’t happen as a married woman. His deep voice always captivated you. You turned around, facing Jungkook. He stood in the kitchen’s doorway, leaning against the frame as his gaze pierced your own with intensity that a shiver ran down your spine.

"Yes, I just took a pill for the headache. Don't worry, Jungkook."

He frowned softly at your last sentence, uncrossing his arms as he walked towards you with his large steps. Your breath hitched in your throat when he stood in front of you a little too close for it to be proper.

"I always worry about you, (y/n)."

You swallowed, not knowing what to say. Nothing came to your mind. There were no words in your mouth to express, no thoughts in your mind to keep you busy.

"You matter to me more than you could imagine."

You looked aside, trying to break free from this chain he held you in. You took a deep breath, eyes focusing on your nearly empty glass of water that rested on the counter.

"Stop it, someone could hear us."

He took another step towards you, eyes never leaving your form as he gazed down at you.

"Uncle Yong-su is in his study with Kim Seokjin,"

His fingers grabbed your chin ever so softly, turning your head so that your eyes met his before he continued in a soft murmur.

"and the children are already upstairs."

His hand cupped your face while his thumb caressed your cheek in delicate touches. His dark eyes took you in; your beauty, your personality. Your essence.

Your hand rested atop his own. Even when the feeling of his skin against your own burned you with desire and adoration, you weren't allowed to show your sentiment freely.

"I don't want to risk it, Jungkook."

He smirked at your whispered words. Daring to take another step until your chests were almost touching. His warm and minty breath fanned your face and you, once more, lost yourself in his enchanting eyes that held your whole world.

"Risk what, (y/n)? Us? Are you that scared of my love for you to be known to the world?"

Your eyes widened at his words. You took a step back in pure instinct, forcing his hand to leave your cheek as you shook your head in silent motions of hidden despair.

"Because I love you, (y/n). I have for a while. And it only keeps growing in my heart."

You took a deep breath, trying to process everything that was leaving his mouth, wrapping your head around the fact that Jungkook was in love with you. If anything, it complicated things even more yet that didn't mean you craved it any less.

"You can't. Jungkook, you can't love me."

His hands were on your shoulders the next second making a soundless gasp leave your lips. His eyes bore into yours like never before that you nearly felt his soul touch your own.

"But I do. And I do not regret it."

You stood in silence, never breaking eye contact with him. Why now? Why did he have to say such a thing now?

"If you do not love me, say it. Say it and nothing left my mouth. Say it and I'll try to stop."

But how could you say that you didn't love him when your heart beats for him and only him? How could you tell such a lie when you loved him more than your life?

"Jungkook, I-"

"Love, are you there?"

The voice of your husband was heard from around the corner. Your eyes widened in fear and Jungkook put a finger over his lips, signalling you to stay quiet as he went to hide behind a wall, opposite from the kitchen's entrance.

You turned around in time to face your husband crossing the doorway with a soft smile on his lips.

"Yes, I just took a pill for my headache."

Yong-su frowned and walked over to you, eyes searching on your own with concern.

"Are you alright? I need you to sign some documents but if you are not feeling right you can do it later."

Your eyes momentarily looked at where Jungkook was hiding before you shook your head with a smile.

"It's alright, I can do it now."

Yong-su nodded, walking out of the kitchen with you behind him. But just as you were about to leave the room, you turned to look back only to spot Jungkook peeking out from around the wall upon hearing your fading footsteps.

With your heart skipping a beat, you sent him a subtle nod. The trace of a smile over your lips before you disappeared behind the wall.

And it was in that moment that he smiled to himself, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest upon the silent confirmation of your love for him.

It didn't matter if it was prohibited, that it was a sin. That you were betraying your husband with Jungkook. For you were his forbidden fruit he should not even gaze at but your essence was addictive he couldn't think to stop himself. Not now, not ever, because love knows no boundaries. Love is untamable, like the sea. Like a flame. It exists, it consumes. It destroys.

December/15/2023

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[faintingheroine]

From the Afterword of the German translation of Aşk-ı Memnu

(It is Google Translate but I think the general meaning is apparent).

But exactly the novel is so unexpectedly open to interpretation and that’s part of what makes it great.

[okuryazarlar]

Aşk-ı Memnu, Mai ve Siyah, Kırık Hayatlar gibi her kuşak tarafından okunan eserlerin sahibi, ilk büyük Türk romanının yazarı ve Servet-i Fünun Edebiyatı'nın nesir ustası kabul edilen Halit Ziya Uşaklıgil'i aramızdan ayrılışının 79. yılında saygıyla anıyoruz.

[mecnun1cinar]

Listeye bak Türk dizi tarihinin bunlardan ötesi yok bambaşka mevzu hepsi(aşk101 dışındakileri bahsediyorum klasik ergen filmi)

[berenkhalidm]

Beren Saat 😍❤️

[mormezarlik]

[literatureismyentirepersonality]

Literary Isolation: The Heart of Charlotte Brontë

@faintingheroine answered an ask about Nihal’s isolation in Aşk-ı Memnu and by a series of tangential jumps in my brain, it made me realise that because Charlotte Brontë discourse can often focus very much on Jane Eyre, people don’t necessarily consider just how key a theme isolation, specifically intellectual isolation is in her work, as well as the wider work of women writers of the time.

The most famous example is of course in Villette, where Lucy Snowe is ‘alone’ at the pensionnat over the holidays and becomes ill, mirroring many episodes in Charlotte Brontë’s own life. This is the novel where Charlotte explicitly set out to confront female isolation.

Yet, in this particular instance there are several things to remember, the most mind-boggling being that neither Lucy nor Charlotte were literally alone. There were servants and other lower-class individuals around her who she was unable or unwilling to befriend. The issue is one of a supposedly intellectual difference, but realistically, a class-based difference.

As a governess in English homes and as a teacher/student at the Pensionnat Heger, Charlotte identified that she was operating in a liminal class space. She was neither as lowly thought of as a servant, nor as highly thought of as her employers/students. Even when the holidays were over and she had pupils and other staff members to associate with, Charlotte created false animosities between those who she perceived as above or below her in status, i.e., convincing herself that Madame Heger hated her because she knew of Charlotte’s feelings for her husband (she likely hadn’t a clue), convincing herself that all of her employers hated her (tellingly, reasons less clear). These apparently imagined animosities served to justify the sense of class isolation Charlotte felt and the feelings of isolation, the lack of equal friendships became key elements of her drawn-from-life style.

This isolation from ‘equals’ wasn’t just something Charlotte experienced when away from home, though her sisters and brother certainly supplied the lack. When Maria Brontë, wife of Patrick Brontë was alive, they were social creatures, often visiting and receiving visits from their friends/family in the local clergy, but after Maria’s death, Patrick alienated his female friends by asking them to marry him and, having removed to Haworth not long before Maria’s death, was at a distance from his friends/her relations in the clergy who had their own busy parishes to attend to.

Distance from these friends and business in the parish meant that the young Brontës were mainly in one another’s society; within Haworth itself, the other inhabitants were of a different class and that was a barrier only Branwell was content/able to cross, and not until he was of an age to frequent the public houses. School should have been an opportunity for more socialisation, but after the disaster of Cowan Bridge (the school that inspired Lowood, as repeatedly confirmed by Patrick Brontë and Arthur Bell-Nicholls), Patrick was tentative about sending the girls to their next school, and Anne and Emily both struggled with their health while they were away from home. Charlotte, however, made a few friends, and that she recognised their value can be seen in her handling of isolation in Shirley.

Shirley presents us with a heroine who is also in a liminal class space. She does not belong to the slightly bourgeoise class of new money industrialists, nor wholly to the respectable clergy because of her mother’s past. Yet instead of presenting her with a class equal, Charlotte Brontë presents her with an intellectual equal. Shirley transgresses class to end Catherine’s isolation, but also to end her own isolation as the only woman of status in the area.

One could argue that the Brontës are a unique case, but this is simply not true. There were many isolated parishes in England and no doubt many clergy daughters who grew up without being exposed to other children, and may not have been able to afford to go to school.

Much as Charlotte Brontë likes to distance herself from Austen, the same problem occurs in Emma, when Emma is left as the only woman of her class in Highbury and therefore must either live in complete isolation or associate with those who society believes beneath her. She cannot socialise as an equal, and no doubt there were other young women in Emma’s position, isolated only by their status.

In Wuthering Heights Cathy Linton is isolated in this same way, as were Isabella and Catherine before her. I suspect this is also part of Nihal’s isolation: she is of a particular status and is therefore mostly at home and alone. Those she might associate with are not accessible to her except in public places and until Bihter connects the family with the Melih Bey set, she does not have access to these public places. Yet Cemile is right there! But Nihal is separated from her by status and by false extension, intellect.

The loneliness that these women felt must have been very real, but it’s also difficult for us as modern readers to grapple with the fact that they were very much not alone. They were surrounded by people; the only thing between them and the social pleasure they desire is class structures and false intellectual superiority.

I think my end point is that isolation was a major problem for women of the period and one that is very pressed in literature, particularly the work of Charlotte Brontë. But that problem was not a simple one, and when viewing these works through a modern lens it’s important to recognise the unspoken aspects of these issues.

[hissizbirisisblog]

Birbirine düzgünce veda edememiş iki insan mutlaka yeniden karşılaşır....

[magisterhego]

What did you think about Behlül’s relationships with Bihter and Nihal? Did he love either of them? Did either of them love him?

I think he did actually love both of them, but in his own way. He seems to have a tendency to have a great big romance that he quickly burns out and rinse and repeat with the next person he fancies.

As to whether he was loved, I'd say yes by both, but also in a limited way. I think he's kind of like the high school crush of a girl from a very small town, where the girl wants to date someone mostly because she thinks it's exciting at that age. And so her crush toward the guy develops more out of her daily life having a very limited pool of potential boyfriends, than out of any wow moment of attraction to that guy in particular.

For Bihter, I think she would have equally fallen for a different person who was young, handsome and charming, and consistently close at hand to observe.

But I don't know if she'd have slept with anyone who was not so casual as Behlül. His cheerful lack of morals and friendly persistence surely helped a bit to remove some mental barriers in her mind. With someone less happy-go-lucky, she'd maybe just have had lovesickness and stayed at that as a 'noble' kind of compromise between cheating and withering without experiencing real love.

There is a word I can't quite translate, 'prepustiti se' (to let yourself go, to abandon yourself to a feeling/situation, can be have positive or negative connotations), which I feel works for both Bihter and Nihal's feelings to Behlül.

They were first pursued by him and they seem to have almost purposefully convinced themselves into loving him. Both were lonely and desperate in different ways.

Bihter was in an unhappy marriage, I don't think I need to elaborate too much as she herself describes it all in a self-aware way in the novel.

As to Nihal, she was frankly somewhat neglected by her family. Yes, she's otherwise "spoiled", but they made huge decisions to remove her brother, and her governess, and her kitchen buddies, and didn't even tell her until the very moment it had already happened! Extremely frustrating and scary for such an already isolated girl. She lived from day to day not knowing who she could lose next, no wonder she got all emo.

So when the situation came that everyone was suddenly eager to marry her to a guy - one she already knew and trusted and casually bantered with - I think half of the appeal would be a young girl's physical attraction to Behlül as a man, but the other half would be the idea of finally keeping someone for herself (because her family couldn't very well decide to whoosh away her husband on a whim, lol). I can see why she'd accept the situation.

[asavnazstory]

[princesssarisa]

This character is a young teenage girl in a privileged Middle Eastern household that includes slaves. She has one parent still living, the other dead, and a stepparent whom she hates. Whether she or her stepparent is the real protagonist is a matter of debate. She experiences sexual awakening (or something like it) over the course of the plot. She can still be childlike, but is considered enough of a young woman to be an object of male desire, and she can be innocent, tender, and poetic, but also fiercely jealous, possessive, self-absorbed, and vindictive. She seems to be on one extreme end of the Madonna/Whore dichotomy, but arguably she's more complex than that. She also has a young male underling in unrequited love with her, who eventually dies.

Am I talking about Oscar Wilde's Salomé, or Aşk-ı Memnu's Nihal?

Of course both the plots and the two characters are more different than they are similar, but I still think an interesting essay could be written about them.

@faintingheroine

[faintingheroine]

The thing about female characters is, when their actions are truly analyzed they are frequently at least as complex as their male counterparts in the same work of fiction but the works they are in are less likely to hold up a neon sign saying “THIS CHARACTER IS COMPLEX” regarding them whereas male characters’, especially anti-heroes’, complexity tend to be a lot more self-congratulatory. Readers and viewers are also more willing to consider male characters complex.

Yes this applies all across the board, from female characters in best pieces of fiction ever written to the ones in the trashiest ones.

Like Nihal is a fairly complex character, almost nothing about her is simple, from the way she suppresses and manipulates her jealousy of her brother to her relationship with her fiancé. But no reader regards her as especially complex because she is a teenage girl who acts her age.

For a female character to be considered even remotely complex she has to die or have illicit sex (frequently both).

[benegeminincisi]

Anlatılanları dinlemeye değil anlaşılmaya ihtiyacımız var.

[mecnun1cinar]

Bi(H)tter cikolataya bayilirim BWHSSYWKSSBS

[berenkhalidm]

[nx1100]

Tr

“Öyle tuhaf ki bir an çıkıyorsun aklımdan, sonra bir şarkı çalıyor ve sensiz geçen her güne ağlıyorum.”

Fr

"C'est si étrange qu'un moment tu quittes mon esprit, puis une chanson joue et je pleure pour chaque jour qui passe sans toi."

Ang

"It's so strange that one moment you're out of my mind, then a song comes on and I cry for every day that passes without you."