#don’t read jjk ever even if it’s the last thing you do don’t do it

[screampied]

‘ THIS AIN’T FICTION, BABY! (it is kinda..) ★

☆ sum. jjk men finding out you write jaw dropping smut. boo you whore. can you even do half the things you write about? well . .

warnings. fem! reader, feat. gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, breaking the forth wall kekw, smut writer reader, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, squırting, manhandling, cuńnilingus, whiny men, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstim, spıt, impact play, breaking the bed, bréeding, size kinks.

GOJO ☆

“oooooh,” a husky low voice coos right next to your ear. hot breath ghosts against the tiny hairs that stand tall near the back of your neck. you bit your lip whilst you’re in the midst of being stuffed full of cock. just plain evil . . satoru’s got you cockwarming him while a fat thumb of his skims down your phone. “let’s see. gojo smut, gojo satoru x reader, hey that’s me, heh,” and he pauses, a snowy brow raising up in daze once he sees your user displayed in bold near the very top of the search bar. “cockwarming gojo, how fitting, angel.”

“toru, fuck,” you whine, making a cute attempt at trying to snatch your phone away. weakly pawing at his wrist, he holds it up even higher. you gasp, feeling his swollen tip swivel its way deeper inside your cunt. “don’t read it,” you fall back into his chest, moaning once he starts to purposely bounce his thigh. embarrassment had you hot, you could practically feel your heartbeat accelerating by the minute. “ ‘s embarrassing.”

satoru squints, resuming to scroll down the glowing screen before a free hand of his trails toward your pussy. he hums, “aw, pretty girl’s got a hobby i didn’t even know of, hm. here, you say ‘he’s got you right on his lap, suppressing a moan with your teeth dug into the bottom of your lip as you’re taking him fully. .’ such nasty literature,” and the edges of your nails pierce into his pants leg. the half on long black slacks that satoru wore were merely all ruffled and ragged thanks to your pretty fingernails tugging at it with all its might. as he continues to read, you’re whining, desperate to move, desperate for at least some kind of friction. as you’re squirming on his lap, satoru’s eye then twitches. “ ‘gojo satoru also would whine in bed?’ this has to be a typo. .”

and of course, his ego gets bruised.

the pout on satoru’s face was adorable. as you’re trying to sturdy your hips, he buries his face into your chest. “mmph,” he’s shoved right between the softness of your tits, his personal happy place.

although—he had to admit, he was flattered that you wrote such lewd compositions about him. you moan as you’re grinding against him, feeling his achy cock slam into you deep within each wet bounce. satoru makes a mess as he’s buried between your plush mounds, remnants of stringy saliva dribbling down the valley of your chest. pretty, his white lashes flutter as you’re quickening your hip movements and he gasps. “oh, f- fuck, angel. ‘s no fair when you ride me like thaaat.”

and you can’t help but giggle—despite your cock drunken state, he’s still got that little glower of a pout on his lips as you’re rutting into him.

satoru’s clenched abs flex more the second you run a finger down the sharp outline of his pecs, watching him immediately fold at your touch. “but you always whine, ‘toru,” you argue in a shivering voice, your cunt tightly squeezing around his length. his wide girth makes your mouth water, such thickness was just insane. you bury your unstable knees into the center of his thighs before his broad big arms wrap around you.

he’s holding you—almost squishing you.

but just like you wrote, satoru whines the second he ends up cumming early. with the way you ride him and the crazed speed of your hips, he never ever lasted long.

it was cute,

he was always confident until he’s buried deep inside your pussy, whining and sobbing pathetic cacophonies of your name at how good you feel clamping around him. it’s merry lukewarm, as he snaps, a puddle of thick syrupy cum shoots into you deep and he’s an entire frantic mess. pants of airy breath slip out of his pink lips as he’s giving you a fill, biting into your neck to hide his slutty whimpers. “god, ‘m gonna die,” he sniffles, squeezing pressure against your bare ass. you hold onto him tight as he’s pouring such slippery wads of seed into you at once—velvety hot amounts spit inside your pussy and you’re matching heavy gasps for air right with him, entirely in sync. “fuck, fuck baby, mommy.”

“what?”

“s- shut up,” he back tracks, and he sees the smug expression growing on your face. satoru lightly smacks a hand over his face before groaning, his cock all milked and flaccid. “i said baby.”

NANAMI ☆

tender mahongy eyes stare deep into your eyes as your fingers happily intertwine with his. tangled and curled, he’s got a soft grip as his body hovers completely over yours.

with ruffled blond strands running down the front of his forehead, nanami brings a kiss toward your cheek as he’s not just fucking you, but making love to you in missionary. “sweetheart, you left your laptop open you know,” and you moan once you feel his plump tip circle its way inside of your gummy inviting walls. already, you’re coating his entire dick with your slimy slick to the hilt. your eyes widen at his words before the left side of your twitching lip is met with another gentle kiss. “i didn’t mean to be nosy, but i saw a little ‘headcanon’ about me, is that what you call it?”

you glance into his eyes with abashed intent as a burning wave of heat sprays over your face. fuck, the pulse of your thumping heart only grew louder as your first response was utter silence.

“i—” you mutter out, and he chuckles at your lack of words, digging his head into your neck. nanami’s scent was strong, it goes through each of your nostrils and you felt yourself throbbing from his touch alone.

his strokes were tender and precise. he’s swaying back and forth as his bare body continues to rut straight into you. pent up muscles of his that were merely perfectly sculptured—identical to the physique of a greek god, you couldn’t help but stare. you just couldn’t help but ogle at how he’s so pretty, how fat tears of sweat race down both sides of his bulky arms. no one could blame you for writing about nanami, although—the things you wrote about him, they were pretty risqué to say the least. with a growing pout, your arms throw over his shoulders as he’s presenting your cunt blissful deep thrusts. “okay, i write about you sometimes, ‘ken. ‘m sorry.”

“sorry for what exactly? being talented, silly girl?” he whispers in a raspy tone.

nanami cups your chin so you could look right at him, naturally leaning into his touch. he focuses on the way your eyes soften and he’s plummeting girthy inches into you raw. your toes curl, running down his back and tickling the scratch marks that paint against his flushed skin. “don’t be sorry,” he adds, pressing a wet kiss near the crook of your neck. “i’m flattered. although, dirty talk isn’t exactly my forte. you know this, my love,” and you moan, feeling the edges of his teeth playfully nibble at your exposed flesh. as pounds of skin resume to smack against each other loudly, nanami slowly lifts up your leg, tossing it over your shoulder. “my favorite part had to be when you said i pulled on your hair ‘n called you a ‘messy whore’ .”

“y- you weren’t supposed to see that,” you nervously grin . . trying to avoid how you were so close to finishing. just a few more thrusts and that was it, you’d be finished, done for. you’ve felt embarrassed before—but never to this extent. he was teasing you, nanami kento was teasing you. and pathetically enough, your pussy twitched as he recited your exact filthy written words. the bed continues to creak and groan as jolting bodies move and move together, amongst each other, and on top of each other.

with kind eyes, nanami watches as you bring both of your hands up to your face, hoping to shield yourself from any more embarrassment.

“oh, honey,” he coos in a melodically low tone. his cock reached so deep that strangled moans flew out from your lips left and right. his tempo was always just right. he never wanted to lose control, but after reading your work, he knew you’d probably like that. crimson damp lips press under your chin before he grunts, preparing himself to be milked dry.

“hngh, don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he huffs, in a soft alluring voice. everything felt abnormally tender, nanami’s softly swerving his body against yours in irregular addictive arcs in such impassioned ardent. the more you stare into your eyes—the more your blown pupils dilate.

once he cup both sides of your face, you lean into his touch. his base was thick, swollen and full. you craved him more than anything, and it’s as if your words were actually coming to life.

“there she is, that’s my girl,” he grits in a raspy voice, prying your hands away from your face. his touch was forevermore gentle. with a soft smile, nanami presses his twitching ruby lips onto yours as you both prepare to cum in euphoric torrent. bedaubing a plump thumb over your bottom quivering lip, he slows his thrusts down a few beats—hearing you vocal pussy’s squelches before a wrinkle of a smile curls against his lips. “now, now. make a mess on your husband’s cock jus how you write them in your little stories, my love.”

GETO ☆

“oh, boo. looks like someone’s innocent all of a sudden when she’s not writing ‘bout dick, hm? wonder why that is,” geto hums, propped right up between your trembly legs. he’s staring at you with a sly smirk that refuses to wipe off his lips. two of his hands spread your thighs apart more before kissing near your slobbering exposed pussy.

with a cunning grin, he gives your drooling folds a few friendly taps as if it was a little mic test. “finish that paragraph. c’mon, wanna make sure ‘m doin’ it right.”

a salty taste of shame fills and salivates inside of your mouth as you watch him with heart shaped pupils. he’s got the most hungry gaze, a bit of spit already dribbling from the thin corners of his lips.

“um, okay,” you moan, picking up your phone again, leisurely dragging a thumb down the neatly typed paragraphs. “it says, ‘you whine, taking s-suguru’s thick fingers happily into your slippery cunt. long digits of his rummage their way inside before curling all around. once suguru spits on your p- pussy, he pats it and calls it a good girl.’ ”

“like this?” geto snickers—copying your exact words, using the flat palm of his hand to rub against your bare clit. you whimper, entirely sensitive as his thick digits toy with your soddened folds. your thighs continue to jostle and shake and he found it so adorable at how you just couldn’t stay still. so cute, he’s got darkened irises focused on you and only you the entire time. these seconds felt like hours, and as he gathers a nice amount of saliva, he spits right on your cunt. just like you wrote it . . you gasp at the sloppy cold saliva cascading down your pussy. the cobwebby strands that pour from his lips had such a pretty glimmer to it. the warm breath of geto that fans against your entrance makes you twitch in elated pleasure.

he’s so sloppy, unapologetically. just like your drabble said—he then pats your cunt with an open palm before leaning right up close, pulling a thumb down your pulsating uvula before licking it passionately. “good fuckin’ girl.”

you whine, your knees practically buckling and he’s just eating your expressions up. “y- yes— like that, fuck,” you move a few long black strands away from his face. geto dips two fingers inside and he stretches you out so easily with his digits. your lips form into a cute ‘o’ shape as you mewl out a desperate cry for more. as he’s watching you succumb into such bliss, he’s got such a pretty face. it makes his dick twitch in his sweats at the thought of you writing about how he goes down on you. the specifics, how sloppy he is, even how he spanks your cunt only to then shamelessly lick the slick mess right up with his tongue.

the thought that probably hundreds of your horny little readers read about this, about him, about his tongue . .

geto’s tongue was ruthless.

he lays it flat against your cunt before fluttering his long black lashes closed. he huskily groans, not even caring that you weren’t reading anymore. as his brows arch into a contorting furrow, he slides in two fat fingers. you whimper at the sudden big yet deliciously enthralling stretch, yanking roughly on his hair. “s . . sugu,” he pulls his slick covered fingers out, licking them clean whilst staring you right in the eyes. you tremor within his hold, feeling his palms tighten its grasp on both of your thighs. you couldn’t lie, this felt a lot better than fiction. so much better . .

he’s making out with your pussy, swirling his tongue around and spelling out all of the letters of his name. creating such a mess, your slick then starts to stream down his chin to which he happily licks it up. groaning, geto then slurps at your drenched hole before giving it yet another kiss. his chin had such luminescent shine to it. you cup his face with shaky hands as he’s eating you out through another orgasm and he jibes.

“mhm, your writing could use a bit more dirty talk though,” he critiques, swiping a thumb against his lips before he spanks your cunt for the umpteenth time.

with your legs sporadically quivering, he playfully bites on your clit, watching you squeal as you’re riding orgasm out on his tongue. “oh, and make sure you add in your little fics that i bite pretty clits too.”

CHOSO ☆

“bottom? w- what’s a bottom?”

choso quirks a brow in cute confusion, slouching back as you’re still getting over your most recent orgasm.

both pounds of sweltering skin melt into each other, sticking together like glue as your hips grow unsteady. choso was reading one of your published works and he can’t help but grow curious. the way you wrote about him, how you portrayed him as whiny and submissive, it does something to him—he personally always thought he was dominant. cute. .

“oh, don’t worry about that, baby,” you timidly utter, trying to conceal an incoming moan once his cock buries its way deep in yet again. he’s nice and snug everyone and it drives him crazy. choso’s got a pout—but it quickly turns into a lewd expression once your sopping pussy swallows him right up again. two jittery hands creep their way onto your rickety hips and he moans once he feels himself already bottoming out. “f- fuck, cho.”

his eyebrows were still all furrowed and he’s got a cute scrunched up expression. “ ‘m not a bottom,” choso grumps, leaning in to sneak a kiss near the corner of your mouth. despite the raspiness lingering underneath his tone—you could hear the incoming whine desperately trying to escape. choso’s black ponytails had cute ribbons in them—by you, and he’s biting his lip at the feeling of your hips starting to grind. “i- i can be dominant too.”

“prove it,” you whisper, a bratty impish glint forming in your eyes. choso scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you but it doesn’t last at all because he’s already pussy drunk to the max.

those two words. . those two words was all it took for him to manhandle you like a rag doll, politely and respectfully tossing you into the springy soft mattress.

it bounces from the abrupt weight crashing down and you gasp once choso backs up his words, and oh, he’s fucking you stupid. you let off a gargled three second moan once choso spanks your ass, using one hand to repeatedly drag you back into his chiseled hips. sharp thrusts plow into you with such speed that you’re left with a dumbfounded expression. your eyes were rolling back and your tongue was lolled out as choso was fucking you in doggy.

as much as you write about him, he doesn’t like doggy, mainly because he can’t see your pretty face. it kills him—but he can’t deny that the view of you like this was so pretty, so enticing. your buckling knees lock as you’re cupping a hand over your mouth, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

choso’s cock was so weighty and thick that it’s got a lazy curve, a mean curve that makes itself known in every part of your insides. he’s no stranger to your body, he knows the exact layout. such stamina—you didn’t expect him to be so feral, it’s as if he was an entire different person. “fuck, fuuuck,” he throws his head back, giving your ass more and more hard spanks. the recoil was his favorite. it was just the way your pretty shaped ass would bounce back onto him. he’s in love with love, in love with your pussy, in love with you. “ngh, gotta show you ‘m not a bottom, baby.”

“c- choso,” you whimper, and his fat base swings against your ass, almost shocking you from the electric friction. you’re drooling—he’s got you stupid as your swollen chaste clit bumps up against his pelvis every single time. the bed hollers out a plethora of cries as he’s jerking more and more into you. your cunt’s drooling dewy slick all down the undersides of your thighs. you even make an attempt at trying to touch yourself. with slickness though, choso snatches your wrist away.

“no baby. ‘s my pussy,” he grumbles, pinning an arm behind your back. you’re babbling—squatting forward as he’s feeding your needy pussy with such inches. choso hisses at the brief twinges of pleasure all due to your sloppy grip. you’re brutal, wetting up his base with your dewy slick. he can’t help but stare and gawk at the way your ass presses up against him. choso’s bottom lip quivers at how good it feels and how good you feel. no matter how much of a front he puts up, he’s gonna whine. “f- fuck. teasin’ me with your hips, baby. so mean.”

yet as he’s dragging you back and forth, watching as your chest heaving and your thighs try to clamp inward—you abruptly cum, gushing all over choso’s cock. he huffs at how sudden it was, and he knew you didn’t expect it in the slightest. so pretty, your final orgasmic cries sounded like a sweet candied harmony and he could feel your quavering body breaking down with his shaft still shoved deeply inside. your mess soaks up the entirety of the dark sheet, now being drenched in a damp grey color. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper, shaking as your head slumps into the pillow. choso whines at your own pleasure, and he doesn’t even care if he doesn’t finish. he pulls out, crawling toward you before burying his face into the nook of your neck. “c- choso, oh my g- god.”

as your flimsy arms hold him close, accepting his embrace, he goes back to his clingy needy self again, speaking in a shivering soft voice. “h- have you ever wrote about squirting yet?”

with droopy eye lids, you were longing for a kiss. as if he read your mind, he leans in—planting a sultry balmy kiss right onto your lips. “no,” you mumble, moving a few strands out of his face.

choso licks near your neck, one of his hands sprawling your sticky legs apart and he brushes a finger against your slick wet cunt. “w- well, you can always write about that,” and you gasp once he lifts your leg up, easily tossing it over his shoulder. with pleading eyes, choso sighs. “but, can we do that again, baby? i- i think i like when you squirt on me.”

SUKUNA ☆

“breeding kink, interesting,” the demon gruffs, hearing you whine after he swipes his phone from your hand, wondering what in the actual hell could be so important.

he’s reading a strange explicit story of himself that’s apparently called a ‘one shot,’ according to you. how stupid, he thinks. sukuna’s irked vermillion-shot eyes skim through the many paragraphs of filth before he spanks your ass, making you keep your most recent arch.

“ah, seems like y’r even more nasty than i thought,” and your breath hitches once he circles a palm over your stinging rear cheek— an attempt at soothing the sudden pang. hearing your cute muffled whimpers, he mocks your noises. “aw, if you wanted me to ‘breed’ you princess, you could have just asked.”

“ ‘kuna, ‘s embarrassing,” you moan, gasping once he smears his leaky tip against your entrance. he was right - you could’ve ask, you could have asked him to do all the little dirty things you wrote about, you could have . .

swallowing the invisible lump that resides at the roof of your mouth, you imagine yourself being stuffed full of sukuna’s cum. so much to where he ends up getting you all swollen—you’d be nothing but sitting pretty with a cute plump tummy, wads and wads of glossy runny cum just slickly dribbling down the sides of your ass and thighs.

“write like a slut ‘n you even act like one too,” he hums, using a thumb to slide down your pussy. sukuna’s staring openly at how you’re already so soaked, so drenched and he looks like he’s ready to feast. your puffy folds glisten with your own arousal and it’s so so cute. “wonder if you write while havin’ a pussy this sloppy too,” and he smacks it raw, feeling your entire body jolt from the sudden impact. you fall into the soft padded mattress and he darkly chuckles at your weakly spot-on reaction time, aligning himself. “poor baby. spendin’ all this time writing when you could’ve been getting . . ah, what’s the word? oh, right. bred, heh.”

and sukuna does more than just breed you—he quite literally overflows your cunt. he’s a demon, and demons cum a lot.

you’re an entire puddled mess that was filled to the brim.

the sheets were all damp and stained and you’re glistening with droplets of perspiration—radiating from his heat entirely. “s- sukuna, fuck,” you weep out his name, hearing the sloppy spurts of cum still dribbling out of you. such a mess, your mouth waters as you realize just how full you are. you always wrote about this sort of thing but never knew that your silly fiction could turn into mere reality. both of your thighs stick together as you’re left trembling with an arch in your back. he’s cackling at your state, watching as globs of creamy ropes leak out of your slobbering pussy.

“how cute, jus might mess around ‘n get you pregnant, yeah,” the demon jibes, a sharp fang poking underneath his bottom lip. you’re haplessly quivering. your panties that were lazily dragged to the side were all torn and ripped, coated in a ivory white color also. as you’re trying to collect breaths—you then let off a moan once he presses himself deep against you.

your womb was completely flooded, you’re drowning with his stringy cum and with his hot burly body right up against you, you feel him right there. you couldn’t miss it, he’s so long and thick that he’s practically tickling your goopy insides. sukuna wraps a hand around your throat whilst another hand sneaks toward your pussy. “bet you’d like that, fuckin’ freak,” and he’s smearing circles against your folds. you twitch at his cursed hand, his cock still tucked inside of you before he laughs against your ear. “you want a baby, huh. wanna carry my demon babies, don’t ya princess?”

you nod and he lets off a snicker of amusement. “keh. bet you do,” and his voice lowly pitches. you moan, feeling him pull out of your dripping cunt, plugging his spilling cum back in with a single thumb. “fuck, better write about this too, princess. let all your pathetic readers know how much of a sloppy pussy their favorite author has,” and you gasp once he quickly flips you over. sukuna suddenly dives head first between your legs, lapping his flick tongue against your folds. “mmph, now watch me clean you up,” and he spits on your pussy only to then look at it with disgust. “messy girl.”

TOJI ☆

“nuh uh, get the fuck back here babygirl,” he grabs you by the hip, and you let off a moan once his fingers trail up your skirt. a wavering crinkle prods near the edge of his left twitching eye as he’s processing such raunchy words about him. a dry chortle leaves from toji’s mouth as he makes you lie on your tummy, multitasking by slapping his swollen cockhead on your dribbling folds. “ya always told me you were a writer but i didn’t think you write ‘bout this,” he purrs, and your toes curl once he’s aligning himself against your slick heat. but fuck was your cunt just was drooling for him. both folds were weeping for him to just go in already, and yet here he was - teasing you. “really? what’s with the whole ‘toji daddy kink’ thing? i look like the kinda guy that’s into that?”

you feel embarrassment creep up your shoulder. he was reading that part, the part where reader calls him ‘daddy.’

sheepishly trying to crawl away from his grasp, you swallow ignominy. “ ‘s not real, i just made it up toji,” you try to explain through gritted teeth. but as he’s reeling you back into his keen structed hips, you lewdly mewl. he’s just so fucking big, happily massaging your walls freely with just a few inches. your mouth widens as you hear him lowly snickering in the background. a snickering laugh that never failed to make your pussy throb.

toji grabs at the fat of your ass, stubby fingertips poking through your skin. with a mean spank, it’s a non-verbal sign for you to stay still. “y’er a fuckin’ slut with your writing, baby. i bet ya haven’t even tried these kinks,” he teases, and you moan again once his cock delves deeper into your walls. with such ease, you back raises up into an even sluttier arch. “hm, lets see if y’er as nasty as you write,” and you hear him grunt briefly, one of his hands gently wrapping around your neck. toji gets right up close to your ear, flicking his tongue against your soft earlobe. “go on, say it.”

“s- say what?” you squeak, but you knew exactly what he wanted. never in a million years would you have thought toji would discover your little erotic hobby. by now, he’s balls deep—you whine, feeling yet another sharp swat smack against your left ass cheek at the lack of response. you’re chewing on the inside of your cheek in guilt before you hear toji smack his lips in sheer vex.

“c’mon, don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone, salacious timbre pouring on his entire voice. toji feels your pussy dripping around him and he hums, giving you just one single tease of a thrust. your body jerks forward and you whimper sweetly. he’s so close up to you, hard washboard abs of his that were proudly flexing grinds against your back. he’s pressing his muscular weight onto you, careful not to crush you but just enough to. inching his lips back toward your ear, he kisses near your neck. “call me daddy. jus like how you write me, little girl.”

as you’re feeling a few throbbing pangs between your thighs, you shiver underneath him. burying your head in shame between your arms, you whine. “ngh, daddy,” and a weird feeling pools around the insides of your stomach. butterflies and a mixture of flutters swarm inside of you and you moan. once those words slip past your lips so prettily, toji raspily groans. he pistons his hips before not even seconds later, he’s fucking you stupid. babbles of babbles leave from you, and you’re acting just like the main character you write for. ironic, you’re clinging onto the silky cream-colored sheets, bawling up the thinly-made fabric with your clammy fists before squealing. “fuck, daddy ‘m not gonna last.”

“should hear how stupid you fuckin’ sound, baby,” he growls, merciless hips snapping into you at full throttle. you were gonna break, you just knew it. toji’s thrusts were so powerful that you’re left squeaking out pathetic whimpers—his cock stretching you out as if you were elastic. “fuck,” he runs a hand through his messy dark tresses. his shaggy strands were unkempt, overgrown a bit and running down his eyes. he’s got to cock his head up a bit just to see your pretty face and your even prettier ass. “c’monnn, do that cute arch you describe in y’r slutty fics.”

“t- tojiii,” you whimper, the weight of the bed dipping after each continuous stroke. he’s thorough. toji’s maddened fat tip has your legs becoming more and more unstable before he smacks your ass. the powerful hit against your rear rings through each of your ears—and you pout, gnawing on your lip, knowing he wants you to correct yourself. “ngh, i- i mean daddy. ‘m gonna cum, fuck.”

but right when you’re about to finish, you’re interrupted by the ear-splitting sound of wood. you’re moaning—feeling your pussy continue to squeeze around his throbbing length that’s coated with veins all the way down to the tan swollen base. it’s loud, you gasp once the weight of the springy bed suddenly drops and you both collapse—toji falling on top of you. he doesn’t even say anything, and he pulls you up to continue fucking you but you let off a whiny whimper. “you just broke my b-bed.”

“yeah, so.”

“so..? you’re gonna have to buy me a new one.”

“right. about that . .”

[berryhobii]

Baby Mama Drama(jjk x reader)

Pairing: BabyDaddy!Jeon Jungkook x BabyMama!Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K+

Warnings: reader and Jungkook coparent, they have a daughter who is mentioned but doesn’t appear in the story, reader and Jungkook technically aren’t together but they still love each other and fool around🥴, reader irritates the hell out of JK but he can’t stay mad at them, reader is definitely a little toxic, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), oral(m and f receiving), 69 position, the sloppiest of top, face riding, fingering, reverse cowgirl, reader rides like a pro, missionary, reader has a tattoo🤭, reader is also dragging that wagon, reader also also has that certified WAP, reader is flexible, squirting, unprotected s*x(don’t do this and then turn into this couple), creampie, dirty talk, one face slap, multiple ass slaps like seriously JK is obsessed with reader’s badonk a donk, a little degradation and a dash of dumbification

A/N: I’M BACK EVERYONE!🥳for anyone who didn’t read my last post, my tumblr was suspended for a little while so that’s why I wasn’t posting. Anyway, it’s over so I’m back to work. This is a piece inspired by @joonberriess and their Sleazy!JK storyline. Shoutout to them. I love everything about the way they write JK and reader so definitely check them out if you haven’t already! Their stories make me want a sleazy baby daddy who can’t leave me the hell alone but I know I’ll never be able to handle that in real life so fictional is good enough for me!🤣this fic is just kind of a reverse of theirs where I made reader a sleazy and jealous baby mama. I know this kind of behavior is a stereotype among the black community but I am in no way condoning it. It’s just fiction and meant to be entertaining. Anyway, please let me know what you guys think as I am always open to criticism and please look forward to my upcoming posts! Much love and thanks for reading 🤎🤎🤎

~

“So, do you have any kids?”

Taking a sip of his drink, Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, one. A daughter. You?”

“Two. Their father is an absolute nightmare though. Thank goodness we have a court order. I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to pull all my hair out.” She bitterly laughed with a shake off her head, tossing the rest of her drink back. “What about you? Is your child’s mother a monster?”

Jungkook titled his head, a strained chuckle leaving him. “Um, well she’s…..something.”

The woman hummed. “I get it. A real bitch, huh? I hate women like that. Ones who can’t let their baby daddy’s go and are somehow always around. So annoying. Like don’t you have something better to do?”

“Yeah and I do it 4 times a week in my Queen sized bed.”

Jungkook stiffened at the sound of that familiar voice. There was only one person he knew that spoke that crassly to strangers.

The scent of your perfume and the smell of the mousse you used on your braids invaded his space and solidified that shit was about to go downhill.

The woman, who’s name he don’t think he ever caught, made a noise of surprise once you appeared before her. Your body stood right between her and Jungkook, forcing her to step back a little. Arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked out to the side, your eyes roamed up and down this woman’s body in a scrutinizing manner.

“And who are you?”

Leaning back a little, you plopped yourself right on Jungkook’s lap.

Looking her up and down once more, you answered simply with a big smile, “I’m unimpressed. Nice to meet you.”

Ignoring you for a moment, the woman looked around you to make eye contact with Jungkook who was shooting her a look that screamed, “please walk away!” She didn’t really understand what was going on. Who were you and why did you walk into their conversation on 10 like that? It was one thing to interrupt a conversation but to be that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know? That didn’t go down well in her book.

Copying your previous stance, the woman replied, “Well I’m unimpressed with your attitude. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”

“No but she taught me to how to wrap a bitch’s hair around my wrist and keep swinging until my arm gets tired.” Your smile was sugary sweet but your words cut deep like knives. The woman was stunned. No one has ever spoken to her this way and it was a rude awakening. She didn’t even know how to respond.

Not wanting to see you demonstrate your mother’s teachings, Jungkook quickly stood to his feet. “Well, we should really be going. It was nice meeting you. Let’s go.” He grabbed your arms to start pushing you away from the woman.

“No it wasn’t!” You called out, both of you leaving the shocked woman by herself.

Once you two had made it outside, Jungkook’s frustration boiled over.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it everytime I meet someone, you show up and scare them off? We aren’t together anymore. Is it not getting through your head? Like what the hell-“

His rant was flying right over your head because all you could focus on was how unbelievably sexy he looked today. How dare he walk outside like that? And he was going to waste all of that on some random stranger in a bar? Yeah right. Not as long as you had a say about it.

Your greedy eyes trailed from the top of his head to those bulging veins in his neck and down to his soft cock that was pressing against his jeans. Whew, just imaging that monster had your panties sticking to you. It was so big and warm and when he was giving you back shots…..

“Are you listening to me?”

You blinked a few times, your eyes slowing raising until they met the searing glare of your baby daddy.

“Uh yeah. Something about airline prices. So what are you doing tonight?”

Jungkook couldn’t fucking believe you. God you pissed him off to no end but he always had a way of letting off some steam.

“Let’s go. Now.”

“Yes sir.” You purred with that mischievous glint in your eye. Jungkook’s own eye twitched at the implications behind your tone but he decided to ignore it in favor of turning around to begin walking to his car, you hot on his heels and a Cheshire like grin on your face because you were getting what you wanted.

The drive back to his place was quiet, as was the ride up the elevator and the living room as he moved to sit down. He didn’t even raise his eyes to look at you once since you got in the car. Although you could see right through his petty act.

Flopping down on the couch next to him, your head leaning against your hand, you said, “come on, baby. You’re not still mad at me, are you? I said I’m sorry.”

No answer.

Moving closer to him, your hand trailed over his chest and up to his face to turn his head to face you, lips just centimeters apart. This wouldn’t be the first time you were on the receiving end of his heated glare and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“What do I have to say for you to forgive me? I hate when you’re mad at me, baby.”

“Then stop doing shit that pisses me off and I won’t be.” He fired back, that low tone of his sending shocks down your spine.

“I’m sorry. Now let me make it up to you.” He could pick up on that sultry voice anywhere and those bedroom eyes you were currently shooting him was a dead giveaway as well.

He rolled his eyes. “You need to stop expecting dick everytime you come over here. It’s not gonna fix anything.”

Gasping dramatically, you moved back a little to hold a hand to your chest in faux offense. “You wound me, tater tot. I came here with pure intentions to apologize to you. Can a woman not apologize to her baby daddy without him thinking she has an ulterior motive?”

An unimpressed look crossed Jungkook’s face from your dramatics and from that stupid pet name you gave him all those years ago.

“Whatever.” He mumbled. “Fine. I accept your apology. Just don’t do it again.” A warning that fell on deaf ears because yeah, you’d definitely do it again if needed but for now, you’d bask in his forgiveness.

“Thank you, baby. You know I only want to make you happy.”

“You do,” he whispered, those doe eyes lifting to connect with yours.

Your lips met, your hands pushing Jungkook back against the arm of the couch to climb into his lap. He went willingly, melting into your touch and the feeling of your plump lips. His own hands traveled up your thighs to squeeze at the plushness of your ass, his grip forcing your covered cunt to rub against his growing erection.

His grunts mixed with your low hum of pleasure as you grinded against one another but Jungkook could only tolerate about a minute of that before he started getting impatient.

Groaning against your lips, he struggled out a, “fuck. Sit it on already.”

The sounds of your giggles made him pause, eyes cracking open and his eyebrow raising because what the hell was so funny?

“Oh nothing.” You said as if reading his mind. “I just remember a very certain someone saying not to expect dick everytime I come here yet that same person is telling me to sit on his dick. How the tables have turned.”

Rolling his eyes yet again, Jungkook suddenly heaved himself up, forcing you backwards. Your giggles increased, the contagion of your amusement finally breaking him and stretching a full blown smile across his face.

“You’re so goofy.”

“Then do something about it, Mickey.”

In a show of strength that turned your panties from a pool into a water park, Jungkook heaved you over his shoulder, hand coming down on the fat of your ass.

“I’ll do something about it alright.”

Once you made it to the bedroom, Jungkook tossed you down onto the bed and was about to climb on top of you but you were a little quicker. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him down until he was flat on his back with you straddling his waist—his hard cock pressed right against your clothed cunt, just waiting to be released.

Leaning down, you captured him in another kiss while he captured your ass in his grip.

“Damn I love this ass….” He murmured into your lip lock which made you giggle.

After deeming him throughly kissed, you sat up to take in his flushed face and reddened lips. Perfect.

“Forgive me yet?”

He hummed, fingers playing with the hem of your top. “Maybe after you take this off.”

Ever so compliant, you gripped both sides of your shirt and pulled it over your head to reveal your bare breasts to Jungkook. His eyes could have popped out of his head, the groan he let out a mixture of arousal and slight irritation.

“You’re not wearing a bra?”

Shrugging one shoulder, you simply answered, “I knew I was coming here. What’s the point? Do you want to know if I’m wearing underwear?” That cheeky smile answered the question for him and it only sunk him further into the already unhealthy infatuation he had with you.

Gripping your ass, he roughly grinded your cunt down on his erection. The friction made both of you gasp, the air starting to feel electric as desperation began eating at both of you.

It didn’t take long for both of you to undress each other. Jungkook helped you wiggle out of those tiny shorts you wore, letting out a curse as a little drip of sticky arousal snapped back against your inner thigh. Sitting up, he grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere in the room. Now you could feast your eyes on the hard planes of his body and trace your fingers those intricate tattoos that marked up his skin.

Leaning down once again, you trailed kisses from that sweet spot on his neck, down his chest and over his abs until you reached your destination. Your eyes never left his as you began your descent, hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans to pull them down and Jungkook helped kick them off. You licked your lips at the sight of Jungkook’s hard cock slapping against his abs once you freed it from the confines of his pants . He could see that hungry look in your eye, smirking as he took hold of his erection and began lightly pumping it; a motion that drove you fucking crazy was watching him stroke himself. It just did something to you.

“You want it, bug?” He teased to which you nodded frantically.

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.” Opening your mouth, you held your tongue out to lick at it, Jungkook hissing at the contact. He slapped it against your wet muscle a few times before letting the tip slip in your mouth. You immediately wrapped your lips around it, suckling at it like a desperate whore. Which you were but only for him. No one else could make you act like this.

You replaced his hand with your own, licking and spitting all over his cock to lubricate it. Taking him down your throat, you began bobbing your head up and down, making sure to twist your wrist just the way he liked it.

Jungkook let out a series of low moans, curses, and the tiniest of whines everytime you went down. One hand gripped at the ponytail you put your braids up in and one hand behind his head, he let you take the lead. You knew just how he liked it, just the way to flick your wrist and tighten your throat to throw him over the edge in minutes.

Coming off him with a wet cough, you continued to stroke his cock, your spit soaking your own hand but that only helped the glide. Your hazy and hungry eyes stared right into his, your chin and mouth soaked in saliva. “I love this cock so fucking much.” You gasped before taking it back down your throat and bobbing your head.

Tossing his head back, Jungkook let out a strangled moan, forcing your head down. You let him, of course, relaxing your throat so he could fuck up into your mouth.

“Come sit on my face, baby. Right fucking now.” He demanded.

Pulling off him a little, you maneuvered your body until your pussy was right over his face—69 style. He gripped both of your ass cheeks in his palms, pulling you down until he could suck your neglected clit into his mouth.

You let out a sharp gasp around his cock, finally getting some type of relief. Sucking his cock made you a different type of horny and he could see that with the way your cunt was dripping.

His mouth and tongue started going crazy, ravenous as he alternated between sucking and licking, making sure to dip his tongue in your opening every once in a while. His hands continued to slap and grip at your ass, one wandering sometimes to pull your slippery lips apart so he could really get in there.

His hand trailed down from your ass to your tight opening, squeezing a finger into your spasming walls. He located that sweet spot with practiced ease, slipping in another finger in beside it and stretching your snug cunt open. The squelching of your walls was like music to his ears, adding to the salacious ‘gluck gluck’ noises your throat was making as you swallowed his cock.

Since you were horny on your way here, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start burning hot in your belly.

You pulled off his cock but continued to stroke him, your cheek resting against his thigh as high pitched moans left your lips.

Jungkook flattened his tongue, his grip on your ass guiding you to rut against his face. The fat of your ass almost suffocated him but Jungkook couldn’t imagine going out any other way. He hooked his fingers right into your gspot, your eyes rolling back and head hanging low as you used him for your pleasure.

“Oh yes! Oh yes, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!” Lifting your head, you took his cock back into your mouth, burying it all the way to the hilt in your throat. Jungkook’s hips jumped, him groaning against your clit, the vibrations sending shocks right through you.

A few swallows around his cock and a few more jabs to that spot inside of you and both of you were cumming. Your body tensed, hips rutting faster against his face to ride it out. He thrusted his hips up once, twice, three times before letting out a drawn out moan as he pumped his release down your waiting throat. Your body shivered as buzzing pleasure raced down your back and to your toes. You don’t think you’ve had an orgasm like that since…….three days ago when Jungkook ate you out in his car after he had to pick you up because you forgot to get gas.

Amazing car head aside, the party wasn’t over yet.

“Sit on it, bug. Hurry.” Jungkook rushed you, tapping your ass a few times, his breath labored and tone dripping with desperation.

Good thing you were just as eager because you crawled forward on your weak knees until he was lined up with your entrance. Reaching between your legs, you held his wet cock steady as you slid down on it. Jungkook’s hands held your ass cheeks apart to watch, eyes blurring slightly as your hot, tight, and gushing walls wrapped around him. You weren’t faring much better, your head knocking back as his thick cock stretched you to your limits. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken his cock, the pure g i r t h always knocked the breath out of you. This is why you couldn’t leave him alone, his cock was just too fucking good. You’d be damned if you ever let someone else take it from you.

Once you were settled to the hilt, your body leaned all the way forward to rest between his legs and you began bouncing your ass on his cock.

Jungkook was mesmerized by how your fat ass rippled and moved against his pelvis. At this moment, he didn’t give a damn how many women you threatened or how much you pissed him off; just the sight of your ass and the feeling of your juicy cunt wrapped around him was enough to make him remember another reason why he couldn’t let you the hell go. He loved your pussy too much. And if that wasn’t enough, the sight of that tiny ‘♡JK’ tatted on your left ass cheek certainly let him know.

Jungkook’s hands came down to slap repeatedly on your bouncing ass. “Faster baby. Fuck, this ass is so good!” The seat of your ass was wet from a combination of spit and cum, the wet slapping noises filling the space. Your moans were in competition with the clapping of your ass, your cheek pressed against the sheets and your nails digging into his calves.

“Ahhh! This cock is so b-big,” you whine, “love it so much…..right there….! Oohhhh-ohhhh fuck!”

Lifting up a little and adjusting your knees to a better position, you began throwing yourself down on his cock, the head brushing against every spot you had and sending you reeling. You’d come all the way up until just the tip was inside before slamming back down, the bed shaking underneath the force. Jungkook’s toes curled, your cunt gripping him tighter than a vice.

He was about 98% sure his soul left his body, eyes rolling and head knocking back against the pillows as his lungs struggled for air.

Not able to hold it anymore, Jungkook was quickly flipping your positions. Now it was your turn to be on your back, your legs spread in a wide V shape, his cologne invading your senses and his lips covering yours. He was everywhere, all over you. Your skin was on fire from his touch, sweat soaking your back and air becoming sparse as he kissed away what little oxygen you had left. You were obsessed with him. He was yours as you were his. Nothing would ever change that.

His cock buried itself back into your walls, a deep moan of pleasure getting caught in your throat once he began jackhammering into you. Your hands gripped the bottom of your feet, keeping them apart so he could continue to plow into your soft spot. His hips moved like a well oiled machine, making noisy contact with your ass with every thrust.

Your mouth dropped open, “oh my…..fffucking g-god…!” Tears welled up in your eyes as blinding pleasure spread over every nerve in your body.

Jungkook grunted, his own pleasure peaking at the sight of your fucked out face.

“Yeah? You about to cum? Are you gonna what the fuck I say and stop acting so fucking jealous? Huh?” Drool dripped down the sides of your mouth as you tried to form sentences but hurried ‘yes yes yes’ were the only words you could manage. “How many times do I have to fuck you before you get that through your thick head? I only want you. Fuck you push my fucking buttons but I know it’s just because you want me to fill up this tight cunt, isn’t that right?” A slap came across your cheek, orgasm crashing into your body without warning from the sudden strike.

Jungkook could feel wetness soaking his pelvis and cock, jaw tightening as he began moving even harder—the headboard knocking into the wall so hard that he doesn’t think he’ll get his security deposit back for this place.

“Juicy fucking cunt squirting all over me. Mhmmmm….I’m gonna fill this pussy up. You want that? Want me to send you home with my cum running down your legs?”

Your ears were ringing, his dirty talk propelling you right into another endless orgasm, your toes curling in the air as blissful overstimulation began to take over.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts and he was burying himself deep in your sopping cunt. His cock throbbed inside you, the thickness pressing right into your abused gspot. Your hands released your feet to scramble against his back, sharp acrylics digging into his skin and making him hiss in slight pain.

“Ohhhhhh shittttttt….fuck baby,” He groaned out as he pumped creamy ropes inside your clenching pussy, your spasming walls sucking him in and milking him for everything he was worth.

Both of you collapsed from exhaustion, Jungkook’s face planting itself in your breasts and your legs falling weakly to the bed with a light thump. Only the sounds of your heavy breathing filled the room, both of your hearts beating wildly as you two came down.

~

“So am I forgiven?” You asked as you two soaked in the tub, the scent of an apple scented bath bomb wafting around the room.

Jungkook was behind you, head leaned back against the wall as he tried not to fall asleep. “I guess so. Just stop doing that, okay? It’s so embarrassing.”

“Deal.”

A beat of silence washed over the room, just the sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub filling the space.

“One more time.” You suddenly said.

“Huh?”

“You asked me how many times do you have to fuck me before I get it through my thick head to stop being jealous. I think one more will do the trick.”

Jungkook let out a chuckle, opening his eyes only to find your beautiful irises staring back at him with that playful and lustful glint.

“You’re impossible.” He scoffed with an endearing shake of his head.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: August 2024

Hi! Thank you so much for looking at my fic recs— I truly hope you find something that you haven’t read, or something to reread maybe? Please show all of these wonderful authors some love on their original post to let them know they made something wonderful ✨

Some of the authors on this list is on hiatus, but please don’t let that stop you from reblogging or commentating on their story— because you don’t know when they might pop back in and see your lovely comment/reblog, so please— if you like something, show some love to the author 🥰

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | 💜 | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Discord Discourse: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @joheunsaram [4k]  // knj x f.reader // idol!au, internet relationships, s2l, fanfic writer!reader // 🌩️🥰

📝 Kim Namjoon likes to spend time in a discord server… dedicated to him. With new friends and a budding crush, will he ever be able to truly be himself without revealing who he is?

🗨️ oh this one is so good! It’s amazing! The concept and plot is soo funny! I would be scared if this happened to me 😂

⭐You Set My Heart on Fire: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @hayjeon [21k] // knj x f.reader // one night stand, s2l, workplace!au, fireman!Namjoon + paramedic!reader // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 as a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

🗨️ holy shit this is amazing 💖 Namjoon as a firefighter? So fucking hot 🔥 oc as a surgeon turned paramedic ✨ and all the action, the tension, the friends with the whole crew and all the guys??? 🥹 Fuck. This one is amazing, another favorite! 

⭐Show Me How @imaginationofacrazyfangirl [3.9k] // knj x f.reader // tinder!au, virgin!au // 🥵

📝 you swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hookup on tinder.

🗨️ omg this is really amazing! I’m going to warn you that it ends on a cliffhanger and there’s no other part to it, but it’s so amazing and it’s worth a read even though you’ll 100% be left wanting more 🥹😂 Their chemistry is so off the charts and the foreplay is so good 👏🏾

⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k] // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, workplace!au, single dad!Namjoon // 🥵🥰

📝 the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking amazing 🥰 I love everything about it and the plot was so fluffy 🥺 Namjoon was just so fluffy and I love his kid ✨ Such a sweet holiday fic, and even if it isn’t read around Christmas time it will bring a smile to your face. It’s truly amazing 💯💜

⭐Sweet Company @remedyx [4.4k]  // knj x f.reader // coffee shop!au, christmas!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 no one should ever have to spend the holidays alone. Coffee makes for better conversation than eggnog anyway.

🗨️ ih this was so cute and fluffy with a sprinkle of angst. I really loved the length that Namjoon went through for oc and it was such a sweet gesture 🥹 It’s completely SFW!!!

⭐Lost & Found @l0mljeonjungkook [9.6k]  // knj x f.reader // single mom!reader, bf2l // 🥰🥵

📝 eight years beside him were nothing but a roller coaster ride. Being a single mother wasn't easy, but your best friend, Kim Namjoon made your way smooth. You never knew you felt something for him until you read his diary, which you weren't supposed to read ever. What will you do, if not only you but Hyeon, your baby, and your best friend Namjoon, wants the same, what you desired for so long?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹

⭐All Mine @cui-nisi [3.8k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, fwb, e2l // 🥵

📝 with Jin being the student body president, you have to keep your purely sexual relationship on the DL, but what happens when it’s no longer just sexual?

🗨️ oh I really liked this one! The tension and energy between oc and Seokjin uffff 🔥

⭐Textbook Love @helenazbmrskai [11.6k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, writer!reader, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 loving your best friend’s brother is forbidden so what is even more forbidden you might ask. It’s writing smut about him. Can you still remain friends after he discovers your secrets?

🗨️ iiihhh, it was so good! ✨🥵

⭐Small Tuna Fish @floralseokjin [17.1k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? It the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear. 

🗨️ damn, this was so funny, sweet and sexy at the same time ✨💯 loved the plot, the car wash–the wetness?? Omg. Everything was so fucking perfect 💖

⭐Dream Come True @sugaurora [16.8k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

🗨️ shit I’m in love with this 🤧 It’s so fucking amazing, beautiful, sweet and fluffy. I lived it so much 💖 💯

⭐With You @yoonpobs [22.1k] // ksj x f.reader // marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.

🗨️ I really adore stories where the characters undergo emotional development 🥹 and these… They grow so much, and they even have supportive friends and family 🤧 Jin was a bit of a douche yes but he learned from his mistakes (hopefully keeps at it) and I really loved everything in it 🤧✨ I also loved that Jin suggested couples therapy, because I think that would be a big assert for them to achieve a healthier marriage 🥹 and when he asked oc on a date, and she went “but were married?” 🤭 also, I really think that going on dates while married is a really good way to keep the marriage alive too 🥰💜 I really loved it 💯

⭐Warm This Winter @jamaisjoons [51.6k] // ksj x f.reader (ft. ex!jjk) // one night stand, s2l, exes (jjk), christmas!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas.

🗨️ PERFECTION 💯 This was so fucking incredible, I don’t know where to begin… I love Jin in this, he’s so fucking funny charming, sweet, kind and witty. He’s so him. The dynamic between all of the characters was amazing, and the tension and unresolved feelings between oc and Jungkook was so fucking good! I loved all the jealousy too, and then the fading of the jealousy. When things shifted for oc, how Seokjin helped her, and in that, she fell for him 🤧 Such a lovely Christmas story! There’s a lot of angst in it, yes, and tension, dear god, the tension is so good 😭 there humor, happiness, live and friendship. And missed chances, living with consequences 🥹✨ IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ IT BEFORE, DO IT NOW, AND IF YOU HAVE, READ IT AGAIN 💖

⭐The Devil Wears Valentino @orchidyoonkook [10.4k] // myg x f.reader // devil!Yoongi, “friends” to lovers, spooky!au // 🥵🥰🌩️👻🪄

📝 having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way. And obnoxiously flirty.

🗨️ there is just so much in this one, and it’s so fucking amazing!!!! There’s so much lore, and brilliant storytelling and the writing was just so fucking suberb ✨ This is hands down one of the best stories I’ve ever read, and I’m so happy I did and I’ll revisit this story again sometime, because, fuck, it was just soo fucking good!!! 😭 I think this will be a perfect read at least once a year, preferably around Halloween— and then also on Yoongi’s birthday, because 🥵 Really, you should read this anything, multiple times! This has really become one of my personal favorites 💎

⭐By the Time I’ve Figured Out What it’s Worth @ugh-yoongi [20k] // myg x f.reader // musician!Yoongi, est. relationship, marriage!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 you used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs. the shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. all those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

🗨️ this was so heartbreakingly good, I don’t know where to begin!? It’s so raw and real, and this is very special to me, because I relate to the plot a lot. It really describes some struggles of marriage and relationships so well, how they handle the tough times! It was such a good read! Is it angsty? Yeah. Did I cry? Yeah. It was just perfection. I was really moved by this. So relatable, raw and realistic. So emotional. So beautiful 🤧💖

⭐The Seventh Muse @wwilloww [6.7k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, librarian!au // 🥵🥰

📝 as a writer, your favorite place in the world is the library. But you’re quickly coming to realize that it might not be the books that keep drawing you back, but the handsome, smart librarian who always knows exactly what you need.

🗨️ Cute and I really like it 💖

⭐Too High @ysljoon [1.7k] // myg x f.reader x fwb!Hoseok // toxic relationships, ex!Yoongi// 🌩️

📝 you haven't moved on from your ex, can someone else pick up the pieces for you or are you going to keep yourself in the cycle of the failed relationship?

🗨️ Oh this was bittersweet 🥺 going back to a guy who hurt you (I’m guessing emotionally), but he’s your home and comfort 🥺 I can see why OC’s toxic in her behavior, and I feel sad for everyone involved 🤧 The story is really good and it’s very emotional 💖

⭐Three Tangerines (series; ongoing) @kithtaehyung [n/a] // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ 3tan is back on the list!!! 🥰 In case you haven’t read the new drabble of 3tan717 ‘Bet Wrong’ please go do it now, it’s so fucking good, sweet and dirty ✨

⭐Swing Life Away @aphrodijin [5.2k] // myg x f.reader // marriage!au, pregnancy!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

🗨️ This was so fucking cute and sweet!! Omg I loved it so much 😭💯💜

⭐Minted (series; ongoing) @/kithtaehyung [9.4k] // myg x f.reader // haegeum!au, gang!au, street king!Yoongi, street cart vendor!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous.

🗨️ Another amazing story from Ryen! This Yoongi is dark and so so interesting. There’s a lot of suspense, tension and angst, but it’s so fucking good! It’s fast paced, and it’s a slow burn at the same time— don’t ask me how Ryen does that, but it’s perfect! 👏💖

⭐Not Interested @sehunpeachy [20k] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, college!au, swim team!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 nobody has ever succeeded at swooping you off your feet. that is until you become coach assistant for your college’s swim team and maybe then, you learn everybody deserves a chance at love.

🗨️ wow, wow, wow. Enemies to lovers? 🥵 The tension between them was so fucking good, and the fact that it was a swim team??? Ehm hello? It was so wet, juicy and perfect!!! I loved everything in it (it was also witty and funny!) ✨💯

⭐After Hours @yminie [5.3k] // jhs x f.reader // retail!au, workplace!au, manager!hoseok // 🥵

📝 it’s no secret your manager is very, very good looking. So what can be expected of you when you spend one too many nights locked up on your own with him?

🗨️ manager Hoseok? I would not be able to function at work 🥵 it was so hooooot ✨

⭐Stop Being so Cute @thatmultifandomhoe [3.4k] // jhs x f.reader // coffee shop!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 intentionally left blank by the author.

🗨️ this was so cute 🥹💖

⭐Gone Wild @johobi [6.5k] // jhs x f.reader // bf2l, fwb, roommate!au // 🥵

📝 Hoseok consumes porn like he does Cheetos: in unhealthily large amounts. He’s seen, and jacked off to, most things imaginable. But there are those photos that always draw him back… 

🗨️ fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was so amazing ✨💯 The tension?? So high and hot! The smut? I don’t know where to begin?? 🥵

⭐Me & You @/jamaisjoons [6.5k]  // jhs x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 your relationship with your best friend has always been strange - especially since you started as friends with benefits. 

🗨️ this was so fucking hot I’m going KAVSVDBAKAVFK 🤧

⭐Fake Love @aquaminwrites [16.2k] // jhs x f.reader // fake dating!au, christmas!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 every year, your family spends the holidays at your parents’ cottage in the country. Freshly single and not wanting to be picked apart by your family for being alone, you decide to recruit one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend. The only available volunteer? Your brother Namjoon’s roommate, Hoseok. Only problem? He absolutely hates your guts. 

🗨️ I just love Christmas stories, and then you add a fake relationship, only one bed and enemies and brother’s best friend??? Hello. It was awesome, thank you very much ✨ I really loved it 💖 so, so good! 💯

⭐Potent Pink (series; discontinued) @dntaewithluv [6.9k]  // pjm x f.reader // neighbor!au, fuckboy!au // 🥰🌩️😂

📝 the first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

🗨️ it was so good! And I feel like I want to know so much more about why Jungkook doesn’t like Jimin, why he’s saying not to invite him into OC’s life. It was such a good prologue! 🥹 Sadly it hasn’t been updated, so I’ll make this as a discontinued series… But I still think it’s worth a read because both the writing and the story was so good 💜✨

⭐Mismatched Pages: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @knjoodles [1.2k + 4.2k]  // pjm x f.reader // university!au, writer!au // 🥰🌩️

📝 you love writing. it’s your passion, it’s what you dream to do forever. up until you find out the guy you really like also happens to be the guy who’s stealing your ideas. then it sucks.

🗨️ this was really cute 🥹 it hasn’t been updated after chapter two, so I assume that it’s discontinued. I really like the plot though!!! 💜

⭐Blooming Days @bluekyun [15.3k] // pjm x f.reader // university!au, bf2l, pregnancy!au // 🥰🌩️🥵😂

📝 a typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever?

🗨️ ahhhh this was so cute, lovely, fluffy and funny! It was also sprinkled with a bit of angst that made me tear up and scared for a moment 🥺 but the ending was happy 🥰 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Tonight @pjmparadise [6.5k] // pjm x f.reader // idol!au, s2l // 🥰🌩️

📝 during a visit to New York, Jimin stops in front of a bar in passing and takes notice of you inside; lonely, gloomy, and so beautiful. He’s immediately drawn to you and can’t shake the image of you. He returns later that night, hoping he can still meet you. But will you feel the same way?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹 And for some reason, this felt very “who” coded 🥹 really fluffy but it’s a bit bittersweet, but hopeful ending! I really loved it 💖

⭐Never Falling + Forever Falling + Free Falling @yoonia [21k + 30.5k + 22k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, workplace!au, assistant!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 for Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

🗨️ this has been on my trl for forever, and then, it was only a one-shot, so color me pleased and pleasantly surprised to find out that this is now a freaking trilogy 🤯✨ I loved everything in it, and it’s so fucking amazing— if you have not already read it, you are certainly missing out! This is definitely one of my all time favorites 💎

⭐Eldorado @smoochkooks [38k] // pjm x f.reader // gold diggers!au, e2l, slowburn, adventure!au // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 not all that glitters is gold but you, qualified gold digger, carrying on your back immense experience acquired all around the globe, came to the city of el paso del conte with one goal in your mind: to hit the jackpot of the eldorado of Texas. and nothing, no tragedies and adversities will stop you from pursuing it. but in every fairytale-like, too-good-to-be-true story, there’s a catch. this time, it comes in the name of park jimin, annoyingly handsome archeologist, your sworn enemy and biggest rival. 

🗨️ this has been on my trl list for some many fucking years 😭 well, I finally got to read it! And it was amazing, it was so fucking funny! Filled with witty banter, jokes and stereotypical jokes 😂 World building was so good too! And the smut? Fire 🥵 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Backseat Serenade @jungkxook [10.7k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, band!au, brother’s best friend, punk!Taehyung // 🥵

📝 falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

🗨️ This was so fucking amazing 🥵💜✨

⭐Any Way You Want It @noteguk [6.6k] // kth x f.reader // childhood bf to lovers // 🥵🥰

📝 in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

🗨️ fuck this was so cute, and fuck the smut was so hot 🥵✨💯

⭐Supernova @whatifyoulivelikethat [n/a] // kth x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵😂

📝 Kim Taehyung is your best friend. Considering him as anything more was asking for a collapsed relationship. You two were just two points in the sky, side by side, always shining together. Stars aren’t meant to collide, right? 

🗨️ ØANFBGÆSB. Yep. Speechless. It was so hot! Amazing! And funny too ✨💜

⭐Rent-a-BoyfriendTM + drabble @jimlingss [12k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, fake dating!au // 😂🥰

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ fuck this was so freaking cute and fluffy with a small sprinkle of angst. Perfection 👏🏾 🥰💯

⭐The Assistant: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @lavienjin [3.8k]  // kth x f.reader // workplace!au, assistant!Taehyung, boss!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 Kim Taehyung is your assistant and moonlights as a masseuse in the evening. When you came to the office the morning after a bad date, all you wanted is his hands all over your body.

🗨️ really liked this one ✨💜

⭐Lovestruck @seokstrivia [9k]  // kth x f.reader // jock!au, s2l, slowburn // 🥵🥰

📝 it was love at first sight, however, what you had imagined was very different from real life. In other words, Kim Taehyung didn’t know you existed.

🗨️ cute, cute, cute 🥰

⭐Chasing Cars (series; completed) @oddinary4bts [218.5k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ the series are completed! I still need to read the last chapter, but it's so fucking good 💜 If you haven't read this one yet, you really should, and remember to read all the drabbles from JK's pov for each chapter ✨

⭐Bottle Up Old Love @wintaerbaer [4.6k] // jjk x f.reader // exes to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

🗨️ aaaaaaah this was so good! The smut, the plot (JK is protective and I love it), I really loved everything about this ✨💯

⭐Hold Me Close + Hold Me Closer @ahundredtimesover [22.6k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

🗨️ omg this was so fucking amazing 😭✨ The characters are amazing in this, there’s cute backstory, details and the sibling bond is top tier, and the chemistry between oc and Jungkook is so fucking good! The tension is perfect and I love the slow burn 🥰 I feel this was also a bit on the existential side, which I really love. Like the dialogue had me thinking about my own life! I love when that happens! And it was so fun reading about siblings, and I’m missing my own baby sister right now. Anyway, it was exceptionally good! Amazing! 💯 And there’s a mention of Jungkook’s glazed potato incident you can’t miss! It was so fun (both this and the run episode 😂). Can’t recommend this one enough!!

⭐Right Here @namluve [13k]  // jjk x f.reader // 90’s!au, high school!au, fwb to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 you had always been a part of the plastics and he was born on the wrong side of town. what happens when your worlds collide, and you realize that he is the only one in your life that’s not fake? 

🗨️ omg this was so heartbreakingly sad 😭😭😭😭 It was beautiful, and I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m so sad 😭 that ending 🤧

⭐(Un)welcomed Addition @shuadotcom [9k]  // jjk x f.reader // neighbors!au, fuckboy!au // 🌩️🥰

📝 after a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind…unless your feelings get in the way of course.

🗨️ it was funny and cute! I really liked it and there is a plot twist in there that I won’t spoil! ✨

⭐Jump Then Fall (Into You): pt1 + pt2 + pt3 (one-shot; completed) @writtenwhalien [52k] // jjk x f.reader // bf2l, cruise!au, fake dating!au // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

🗨️ this story is so fucking good! I love everything in it, and the characters are so good and detailed (even the minor characters!!!). This is totally a new all time favorite of mine 🌟

⭐Dragonheart (ongoing series) @captain-joongz [22.1k+]  // ot7 x f.reader // dragon rider!au, high fantasy!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 the Gong-li Empire has been on the peak of its power for a little over a millenium, and there was a very simple reason for that - dragonkind. When the first emperor of the Li Dynasty struck a deal with a witch that would allow him to bind dragons to the crown and force them into obedience, it was the beginning of its reign of terror and the end of freedom for creatures as old as nature itself. Now, a woman hoping to change everything enters the ranks of the elite dragon rider unit among the imperial army and meets seven men that not only change her life, but help her change the fate of the whole world.

🗨️ this is so fucking amazing; there’s a lot of lore to dig into, the characters are good and funny. The storytelling is so good too! I can’t wait to read more of this one ✨ If you love fantasy and dragons, I’m sure you’ll love this one 💜

⭐End of the World: a Flickering Hope + Drabble + Epilogue  [4k + 1.2k + 0.9k]  // myg x f.reader // s2l, apocalypse!au // 🥵🥰😂🌩️👻

📝 your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? 

⭐Whalien52 [10.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // s2l, dystopian!au // 🌩️🥵👻

📝 you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do? 

⭐When It Sinks In [13.1k]  // ksj x f.reader // est. relationship, mermaid!au, amnesia romance // 🥵🪄🥰🌩️

📝 life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

Thank you so much for reading my rec list, I hope you’ll reblog it to make it reach more people! There’s some insanely good reads on here ✨

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and borahae 💜

[taegularities]

colour me in: seven | jjk (m)

Summary: At first, it's an argument that causes the unwanted, childish distance between Jungkook and you. And then… open blazers and a lip ring.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: est. rel.; fluff, smut ➳ warnings: an argument, cute couple-y things but also they're dorks n cringe sometimes, seven jk (incl the promo pics, laundromat hoodie bf koo, and drenched in the rain koo!!), fighting over food, they're a bit mean to each other, but they adore each other too, brief mention of a rough childhood, sexual tension, taeun being everything, kissing, dumb jokes, period and pms mention!!, a photoshoot!, subtle hints to the future of the main story :'); explicit sexual content: ahh.. making out, dirty talk, oral (f. & m. receiving), brief spanking, face-fcking, light choking, sweet and rough sex, dom jk, big dick jk, whipped simp jk, petnames, multiple orgasms, sex on the couch n on the floor? :'), he loves her a$$ and tiddies, multiple positions, cockwarming!!, mention of aftercare... the ending lol :D ➳ word count: 25k lmfaoo it's oneshot sized yall 😁 ➳ a/n: hi!! welcome back!! this is part of my series colour me in, but you can read it as a standalone-oneshot!! tysm for supporting me and encouraging me, guys, it means so so much. this is also unbeta'd, so pls go easy on me LOL. and since this was a piece of worrrrk.. come and talk to me about it, it makes my day fr fr <33 ➳ listen to: seven by jungkook | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

In hindsight, your argument was blissfully domestic after all. In hindsight, maybe even comedic.

You’ve seen these things on TV and read about them in novels; didn’t experience them growing up because your parents didn’t really fight over such harmless matters. They never needed to lift a finger in their ultramodern kitchen, filled with up-to-the-minute equipment to fill their table.

But Jungkook and you don’t rely on such luxuries. You do things for yourself. So, such a couple-y, casual life leads to couple-y, casual arguments. Requires it. Fighting is healthy; entangles two souls some more.

Which is exactly where you are now. Exactly what you’ve become: A true unit. Quarrelling over trivial, everyday things.

Just to end up folded in half, holding onto the very last of your sanity, biting back more inappropriate screams.

In regards of making up, you’re perhaps not that casual. Because he’s a relentless, brutal beast.

Wrecking you right where everything began.

Monday

The end of the day begins with a giant hole in the middle of your thoughts.

Your previously whirring brain tossed away all thoughts of advertisements and seasonal launches, vacant and dark until your senses shut down everything that wasn’t vital to survival.

Like the lights of the evening as your car passed the streetlamps. The tired faces on the pedestrian zone, the odd wrinkles in your skirt, or the scent wafting from the kitchen when you step out of your heels.

Your mind operates on reflexes and automatic movements; the ball of your palm rubs against your eyelid, realising too late that you’re probably smearing your eyeliner.

A sense of reality only truly returns when you hear a familiar voice call out your name, muffled through the walls between you.

You exit the bedroom with fingers scratching the nape of your neck, tiny steps floating over the floor and past the living room. On the coffee table, you register one or two dishes. Rice, too. Smells so good, but…

As you reach him in the kitchen, you halt at the threshold, eyes scurrying to the few pots and ladles in the sink. He’s diligent and fast; cleans up when dinner simmers. Minimal work left after the meal.

For a moment, you take in the cleanliness of the kitchen, and when your eyes move up to the man himself, you beam.

He’s wearing an apron – baby blue with little flowers and rainbows imprinted on it. His mom bequeathed him with one of her old ones, and he’s been boasting about it ever since.

You saw one with astronauts, moons and telescopes once; you might purchase it for him at some point, not least of all because it includes all the things the two of you love.

A tattooed hand pushes back his mane, messy and pointing in all directions the way it does after his showers. His fingers card through the fine tresses two more times before he turns towards you — an immediate smile, similar to yours, spreads across his face.

The tiny little dimples over the corners of his mouth distract you for a second until you see his hand at waist level, beckoning you into the kitchen and a greeting, sweet embrace.

Compared to the cold outside, his oversized, full-sleeve, white shirt offers a familiar warmth. He always smells the same, musky and fresh; not like cherry blossoms at all, but he reminds you of their softness.

Mixed with the scent of tonight’s meal, you inhale it all, wrapping your arms around him as your eyes close in exhaustion. If he wasn’t swaying you in his hold, you’d probably fall asleep, right there against his chest.

A kiss to your temple, and he asks, “Hungry?”

You’re not sure. You cuddle into the apron and whatever’s visible of his shirt, and mumble against him, “Not too much… to be honest, I was gonna shower and sleep.”

“Oh?” he wonders immediately, traces of disappointment in his voice. “But I made this for you.”

You smile again. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll eat, don’t you worry.” You take a deep breath, and then lift your head off his chest without letting go. “In all honesty. I saw the food outside and thought you had it delivered.”

“So you were gonna waste something you thought was restaurant food?”

You laugh. You’re sure you could see his rosy pout even if you weren’t looking straight at him.

“No. It just looks very good… I would’ve heated it up tomorrow. But since yours was a one-person-effort,” you pat his back in pride, watching as strands of his bangs fall back into his eyes, “we shall eat.”

“And it comes from the heart, too.”

“Right. It comes from the heart, too.”

You rub his back once, soon backing away. There isn’t much to do for you anymore, but you still grab a couple napkins, chopsticks and spoons as he carries some water into the living room.

The couch feels soft, true Heaven, when you sink into it. Your heartbeat slows down, your mind at ease; when you tilt your head, your neck cracks.

But clinking your glasses of water with someone who cherishes you enough to step back and forth in a kitchen for hours… It's a comfort that’s incredibly close to a peaceful night’s sleep.

And it’s worth the effort, too. Despite the conversation and your complaints about work, you can’t help but compliment dinner every other moment. Possibly another endearing habit you picked up from him.

But you slow down when fatigue returns bit by bit, your eye twitching when you feel a well-known tickling in it.

You’re careful of potential spices when you lift your thumb and rub your eye with the back of it, fighting the itch. For a moment, you stop chewing, and Jungkook only lifts his gaze to you when the movement against your eye continues, circling motions.

“Hey,” he says, grasping your wrist, pulling it down slowly, “that’s bad for the cornea.”

“Yeah, I mean. It’s not like my cornea's been nice to me, either.”

You resume chewing, swallowing the mushy remnants of the rice. Your attention falls back to the bowl of food, and your chopsticks aimlessly poke around for a second before he asks, “Why? You okay?”

“Mhm,” you say, nodding gently. “It’s just,” you point to your eyes, chopsticks dangerously close to your face, “that eye thing. It might be an infection or something. It’s so bad today that it’s hurting my head.”

You’ve complained about the issue a couple times — back when it was just an itch, you assumed it was the dusty town, perhaps even sleep deprivation. But the itch has transformed into a relentless pain, moving up your temples and across your forehead.

“Again, yeah?” Jungkook asks, following with a tender gesture of tucking your hair back. The pad of his thumb brushes over your eyebrow. “I’ll massage your head before we go to sleep.”

You sigh in relief, tired eyelids shutting briefly as you claim, “You’re the fucking best, you know?”

“Yeah.” He delivers a nonchalant, drama-esque shrug of his shoulder. Unmistakable smirk. “I guess I do know.”

The giggles from when you started dating still remain. You remember annoying the hell out of your friends back then, high school butterflies visible through your stomachs and in your bright grins.

Jungkook’s ears would redden, a smile even in your eyes. You can imagine how irritating the honeymoon phase felt to them — not that the two of you ever snapped out of it.

Even now, you’re drowning in it.

Well, until you’re not.

Because the moment he slings his arm around you, leaning back, his plate and bowl empty, you move forwards. Place your own dishes onto the table, cuddling further into him.

Only, he seems to interpret it differently.

“Aren’t you eating anymore?”

Not the message you intended to deliver. But perhaps… he’s not wrong after all.

Because…

While the evening ended on a gentle note, much needed, you’re done with today by now. Craving a warm bed, strong arms around you. A sweet, soft sleep.

And the meal is worth a thousand culinary stars, but your appetite keeps dwindling, and hadn’t he put so much effort and affection into all this, you would’ve probably headed straight to bed.

So you answer truthfully, “I can’t eat more…”

“Hmm.” He briefly points to your portion. “You just ate half of it.”

Brief silence. It must’ve gotten late, because among the quieter traffic on the main road afar, you hear a couple nightlife bugs chirping, too.

You look between the bowl and him slowly, blinking, unsure what to say. The arm around your shoulder doesn’t match his tone, so it feels a little awkward now.

You mutter, “I’m sorry.”

Because should you force yourself to scarf all of this down now, you probably won’t be able to sleep.

But Jungkook’s hums and insecure voice are making you feel bad — you know he doesn’t mean to. It’s the puppy-doe nature, a combination of forlorn, soft eyes and pouty words.

“Ah… It’ll go bad by tomorrow, but…” he starts, but you cut in—

“Fridge?”

An immediate shake of his head, a click of his tongue. “Not with that one. I mean, we could, but it’s gonna be all dry and unpalatable in the morning, y’know?”

You don’t fully have a right to be annoyed. Neither of you does. But the day’s been irksome, work a mess, paper sheets flying around — on top of that, you finished your blister pack of birth control last Friday.

The period, probably approaching tomorrow and meddling with your busy schedule, is already putting you in a sour mood.

So the current lack of a solution doesn’t help your drooping eyelids and still partly tumultuous mind.

You push yourself forward on the couch, sighing before you suggest, “Okay. Then I’ll eat.”

“Woah,” he immediately voices, dropping his arm. He attempts to pull the bowl out of your reach, but you grip it tight, swallowing a small bite of rice. “I’m not forcing you to.”

“Yeah, but still.”

Another sigh of frustration falls out of you, your full stomach crying, but you pull the bowl to you, another bite ready between your chopsticks. But a moment later, Jungkook pushes your hand down again, every rice corn falling back to its prior place, fortunately never leaving the bowl.

Unbelieving, you shoot an aghast glare at him, to which he responds, “Don’t force it. Seriously.”

A rice corn still sticks to your lower lip, and you pull it in with the tip of your tongue. You place the warm meal back onto the table, half turning to Jungkook, voicing an irritated, “Dude!”

“You don’t have to,” he assures, but he looks clearly offended. Looks away, rubs his thigh, eyeing every object on the table before he adds quieter than before, “You know… That’s happened a couple times in the last few weeks.”

“…What did?”

“I’d cook for you and you wouldn’t finish it.”

“Babe… The last few weeks have been tiring.”

“I know,” his voice grows higher at the end of the syllable, but then calms again after a sigh. “But we refrigerated a lot of stuff, some of which I shared with Joon or Tae the next day. Or threw away.”

“Nah.” The ridiculing smirk you respond with isn’t intentional. You drop it right away, but still shake your head in disbelief, defending, “You know I eat up most of the time, especially when you cook. Just today, I can’t do more than this, okay?”

He gulps. Two fingers scratch his ear, eyes once again skimming over empty plates or remnant-filled bowls. He drops his digits back to his thighs, rubbing once more, and then puffs out a breath between rounded lips before he comes to a stand.

And then, all he does is nod; shooting a simple, “Alright.”

His tone is stern. You recognise the expression — his eyes still big, but different now. Usually filled with warm sparkles, they look pissed now. Not because of his dropping lids or the missing crinkles.

Jungkook doesn’t need to move a lot of muscles to look angry; the lack of the glimmer is just enough. 

His lips are shut, not parted as they usually are when he focuses on something like his art or cooking or cleaning up. He’s exhaling and inhaling deeply through his nose, hands working on the dishes, but the fall and rise of his chest…

“You’re mad,” you conclude.

He looks back at you, the corners of his mouth never moving. His tone remains flat as he tries to convince you, “No. All good.”

Straightening his back, he attempts to walk away, hiding away in the kitchen until you’ve fallen asleep. He and you don’t argue too much — the little, couple-y, casual fights aren’t quite fights at all.

But they do end with a short distance until one is ready to approach the other and communicate again. A good strategy to cool your minds. You wouldn’t wanna discuss such a thing right away.

This time, however, you don’t want him to leave.

You pull him back again, holding onto the cotton shirt, and he protests with a loud call of your name and furrowed eyebrows as you insist, “No, you are mad.”

Your hand pushes against the couch, your body lifting, and you look him in the eye with a frustrated crease between your eyebrows. “Kook, I just am not capable of finishing it right now. You’re making a bigger deal out of it than you sho—”

“Yeah. Okay,” he interrupts, feigning acceptance and understanding, “it’s fine.” You scoff; sometimes, he’s truly as moody as you. “Things are different here, it’s fine.”

…What?

The sentence nearly comes out as a whisper as he finally starts walking away, and you only register it when he’s halfway out of the room. He balances the dishes in both hands, and you follow him to the kitchen.

Ask, “What’s different? Where’s here?”

“I work, too, you know? I get tired, too.”

“Jungkook,” you try again, slamming the hand against the counter; the sound’s muffled by a bright green cleaning cloth. “What are you talking about, things are different here?”

“Just.” He doesn’t seem to wanna talk. Carefully, he places the empty stuff in the wash basin, working on finding containers to dump the leftovers in them. “I get tired from working in the city, too, but I guess I grew up differently.”

…Huh.

You wait.

Let him collect his thoughts until he tells you, “In the countryside, you work for food, so you get used to finishing dinner. I know people around here rely on supermarkets, and honestly, I do, too,” his shoulders rise as he shovels the tofu dish into a box, “and I guess that’s why it makes sense why it’s easier for you to leave leftovers.”

Wow. Some statements in this world you live in are genuinely unfair.

You understood each of his words and lectures perfectly, but you still voice a little, “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not being serious.”

“Maybe.”

You blink. Then blink a couple times more. Observe as he closes the boxes and puts them in the fridge with a sigh. And you feel bad, you swear, you do. But that unnecessary turn of events…

“So what, you mean we don’t work for our food, right?” you counter, a hand on your waist. “We might do less physical labour, so that must mean we don’t appreciate what we get, yeah?”

Damn. And what if there’s more to that? What if—

“Or do you think it’s because I’ve always had enough money to not worry?”

Okay. Perhaps a long shot. He didn’t say it, but what if that’s exactly what his thought process was, too?

Your inner panic, invisible on the outside, grows when he doesn’t answer, lips firmly locked as if they didn’t just spew some crisp bullshit. You fold your arms, sucking air through your nose, and then demand, “Apologise.”

And when his eyes lift to yours, you freeze. God, they’re deadly. And his ingenuine laugh even more so as he throws back, “No, you apologise. Especially for assuming things I neither said nor thought of.”

“You were rude. I’m asking you nicely to take it back.”

“As nicely as I cooked for you. World’s in balance again, I guess!”

He throws his hands up, staring at you until he’s passed you by, eyes rolling. His nonchalant, idle movements rile you up more, and you can’t help but participate further in that odd exchange.

“You douchebag,” you call out, shutting the bedroom door as you reach inside, “I’m not a snob. I’d always finish my stuff, you can even ask the cook in my old house. He loved me because I wasn’t a picky eat—”

“Listen,” he interjects again, “I know. It's fine. I’ll sleep,” he points to the bed, “because this tired me out. Just drop it.”

“So you can drop it as you please?”

“Nah, just asking you to rest,” the first word comes out louder than he anticipated, his shrug vexed and vexing. He clears his throat. “And I’m sure you’re tired of this, too.”

You groan.

“And if I want to—”

“It’ll just escalat—”

“Dude, I—”

And once more, he showcases his annoyance when he glares at you from the other side of the bed, shutting you up, blanket already lifted. You anticipate another rude remark, a way of justification or to blurt something he doesn’t mean.

But despite his recent idiocy, you don’t deem him an asshole. Not to you, at least. Which proves right as he takes a breather, one knee hitting the mattress as he finally states—

“Let’s sleep over it, okay?”

The tone still isn’t as peaceful as it could be; you know it’s a tactic to dodge a fight. You might not be on your best domestic side tomorrow yet. But his question is final and his gaze even stricter.

So you reluctantly sigh, eyes still fiery as you breathe, “Fine.”

But it’s not fine. And the turbulent week ahead, filled with chaos for you and peak comedy to others, might just be about to prove it to you.

Tuesday

You chew on your bites until the taste turns bland.

Still distracted from last night’s exchange, you barely register the tart spicy quality of your dinner; a shame because this restaurant is your favourite place to frequent with friends.

Today, you’re toying with your cutlery, catching a glimpse of your grim reflection in the spoon every now and then. Whenever Jungkook’s elbow touches yours, your heart skips a bit, bleeding as much as your eyes want to water.

With how he’s smiling at your friends, appetite never faltering, you could burst into tears — because somewhere inside, you miss him despite the constant proximity.

Perhaps he does, too.

Because you notice when he drifts closer on purpose, casually putting his hand over yours. Seemingly lost in conversations, he rubs his thumb against the soft back of your hand; but when you look at him, you can’t muster a smile just yet.

It’s your ego, your stubbornness. Pieces of you want to stay pissed. You keep your cool, but try to avert your eyes whenever possible.

And when you, obstinate as last night, pull your hand from under his, you register the defeated sigh.

But instead of starting a new topic, he retracts his fingers, putting his arm on his table as he busies his other digits with his meal. When you dare a glance, the pretty curves of his blooming lips tug upwards, listening to Taehyung’s story.

Either hiding the discomfort between you or not feeling it.

Odd, because he’s your constant centre of attention.

“Yeah, I mean. Every job is stressful, you know? But it’s wholesome, too,” Taehyung narrates. You blink the silent pining away, and focus. “Like, one of my patients is an elderly man, a lot weaker than his wife. And she always comes with him, every single time.”

“She just waits for him the entire time?” Jungkook asks.

Next to Taehyung, Eun nods; she’s probably heard the story before.

“I mean, she entertains us, is more like it,” Taehyung explains. “He’s been getting geriatric physiotherapy to regain some strength, so he needs all the motivation he can get. And those two are such… dorks. They bicker all the time.”

You smile. Reminds you of when Jungkook and you first met. Persistent, pointless rivalry.

Perhaps Eun hasn’t heard all of this after all. Because as she cuts her dinner, she asks before stuffing her mouth with a bite, “How so?”

“Like. She’ll tell him to not be a baby and take that last step during gait training.”

From your right, Jungkook’s laugh reverberates like a melody from above, sickeningly sweet and amused. “Sounds like me and you at the gym, doesn’t it?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, flicking away stray hair with his forefinger, “Yeah, only because you can lift weights that’d break my arms.”

Another chuckle from the side. Even you smile a little.

Your man is strong, alright — and you’ve always admired it, experienced it a couple dozen times.

You’ve yet to see him work out at a proper gym; the home workout sessions barely count.

Ugh. The violent heartbeat beneath your chest picks up on pace again, and you take a deep breath to calm it just a little.

“Anyway,” Taehyung continues, “then she’ll tease him how the neighbour downstairs has much more flexible legs than he does and he’ll argue how she should’ve married him… and then she tells him that she would’ve if she didn’t love his old ass so much.”

When you giggle, covering your chewing mouth behind your hand, he adds, “I swear! It’s the most standard old couple banter if I’ve ever seen one. Thought that stuff only happens on TV.”

Eun, still busy with the remnants of her meal, doesn’t look up but asks, “So they joke around like that? They don’t get mad at each other or anything?”

“They act like they do. Not a sliver of jealousy or anger in them, though. Insane… and adorable. I guess when you’re married long enough, that’s how relationships turn out. And they should, too, you know?”

Hmm…

You side-eye Jungkook for just a moment, but don’t say anything.

You don’t know what’s written in your future. No clue whether he’s a permanent presence in it, a firm part of your fate or not; you strongly hope for an eternity.

You want to picture him and you grey and old. Wrinkled hands, adorned with blue veins holding each other. Weak smiles and crinkles around his eyes, hidden behind glasses, ever-present.

If he’s your future, you hope to laugh about such fights one day. Hope to let people wonder whether you’re actually furious with each other, veiling unbridled affection behind snarky remarks.

Just… right now, you can’t laugh about it just yet. You still feel oddly offended by his words last night, and it doesn’t help when tonight seems to drift towards a similar ending.

Because as you ask for the bill at the end, Jungkook still pays. You don’t think about it too hard, letting him do, staying seated to finish your drinks.

But your exhaustion reaches a new, entirely unnecessary peak when he starts cracking his fingers. On any other day, you’d put a hand over his, reminding him not to and move on.

Today, you’re in a bad mood, and your demands come out accordingly piqued.

“Stop it.”

“Hm?” he voices, looking at you, the warm light of the restaurant reflecting in his dark brown eyes.

“This,” you point to his fingers, “stop that.”

“Why?”

“Because you know it makes me cringe. A bit annoying.”

Eun, still unaware of the tension between him and you, shrugs her shoulders, “I know that irks a lot of people, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“Because you do it, too,” Taehyung complains; she mocks him with a sly smirk and a quiet, Yeah, yeah. He adds, “I can’t stand it, either.”

You lift an open palm towards him, nodding, “So you understand.”

“I’ve seen you do it, too,” Eun argues with a light push against his shoulder, “multiple times!”

“But not as often as you. You start and do not stop.”

You immediately agree, “He’s just like that, too!”

To which Jungkook interjects, his voice still calm; but you still hear the growing aggravation in his voice when he starts, “Honestly, I—”

“He actually has a couple habits that are just—”

You blow a raspberry.

Your interruption triggers Jungkook. And your words, admittedly not quite the sweetest, don’t sit well with him, either, because a moment later, he’s leaning forwards again. Looking at you directly before he continues his irritating bone-cracking.

You grit your teeth and repeat, “Stop that.”

“What?” he shoots back. You flinch. “A habit you despise so much, yeah? I don’t get the same intense reaction when I do something nice for you.”

So untrue.

Fucking hell. He’s talking about yesterday again.

You exhale through your nose, possibly resembling a bull ready to attack; Taehyung and Eun shrink in front of you, grimacing at each other. You’d laugh if it wasn’t you trapped in that exasperating back and forth of exchanges.

“Oops,” Eun whispers, yet overshadowed by your words as you defend, “That’s not true.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook says, shrugging a shoulder with an outrageous smirk, “but you never get that angry when I crack them at home.”

“I just don’t say it.”

“Oh? What else do you not say, hm?”

Taehyung dares an attempt, “Guys.”

But you’re too heated, a little stupid, very ridiculous as you spit, “Like, how irritating it is that you smack your lips every other second.”

Jungkook puffs out a breath. Looks to the side, straight into Eun’s direction who sinks a little more. He curls his lower lip in, running his tongue over it, jaw clenched and sharp. If you weren’t so focused on your temper, you’d find it scorching hot.

In a harmless little fight, you’d keep annoying him until he lost it eventually, mounting you and shutting you up in the very tempting Jungkook-esque way he knows.

But not here, not right now.

Instead, he fucks you up further as he sneers, “Right.”

“Or,” you continue, “that you don’t clean up your working space after painting.”

“What?” He furrows his thick eyebrows, ignoring Taehyung’s call of Jungkook’s name. “I mean. You have all your documents scattered on the desk. I might need it, too, y’know?”

“Why don’t you say it then?” you ask, tilting your head with one cocked eyebrow of yours.

“‘Cause I wanna let you work? ‘Cause it’s important for me that you’re able to focus?” He looks away again, tutting; his shoulder moves with his deriding laugh as he mumbles, “The fuck, really.”

Somewhere inside, you feel bad. You know his words are true. But you can’t tell him yet; so you just glare at him.

As silence finally falls upon you, Eun moves towards the table again, glancing between the two of you as she wonders, “What’s wrong with you guys?”

Everything.

“Nothing,” you say.

“…You wanna go?”

You wait. Jungkook doesn’t answer. Looks to the ground. When you don’t respond either, his eyes lift to yours, still big but not as enthusiastic as usual. Intimidating even.

You stay still, so he only voices, “Uh-huh.”

And the couple, enduring your awkward moment, lets you go gladly. You pack up, finishing your drink, and when you leave your table, you notice just how many people were staring at you.

Still are.

You really embarrassed yourself in front of a crowd, huh?

As the daughter of rich parents, owning a huge ass clothing brand, this isn’t something you should’ve done. But you pray and hope that you won’t wake up to a headline, or that journalists won’t interpret your little feud as a reason to break up or some nonsense like that.

Trouble in Heaven, they’d call it. Predictable little cockroaches.

You trudge past the customers with a deep breath in; Jungkook doesn’t seem to care much, because he walks ahead, hands in the pockets of his linen cotton slacks. Doesn’t look around.

Only bids Taehyung and Eun goodbye; tells you to buckle up when the two of you get in your car; curses once or twice when he misses the green light by a second.

And when you’re at home, sighing as the night approaches its end, you shake your head. Unbelievable whatever transpired back at that place. And you thought you were warming up to each other again.

Guess it’s your fault this time.

Which is why you hum when he calls your name, watching you put on your nightwear; bed ready while you still need to take off your makeup.

His question baffles you; more so with the slightly irate tone.

“Will you still give me a good night’s kiss or?”

You roll your eyes. Don’t say anything; grab your skincare products before you get to work.

He sighs once more; you see the shake of his head before you disappear into the bathroom, hear him say, “Whatever.”

But when you come out with a light rosy scent on your skin and jump under your blanket, you still shift towards his slowly drifting body. His arm under his head, eyes closed, lower lip pouting that you target carefully and—

Press the lightest kiss against.

Immediately, you turn around. Imitate his position.

He doesn’t reach out to you as he usually does, pulling you into his arms. But you still feel the petal-soft brush of tender fingers against your arm before the touch retracts again — and eventually, you fall asleep.

WEDNESDAY

The only reason Jungkook accompanied you to the laundromat is because your clothes gathered into a huge mountain. Neglecting your responsibilities at home, you brought two bags, and he insisted on helping you out.

It's late afternoon. Work tired you out, dinner is still pending; you don’t want to be here. And the place is empty; a yawning void. Just you, alone with your tank-top and grey-blue zip up hoodie clad, messy-haired boyfriend.

The retro plastic laundromat seats tired him out, so he’s standing at the far back. His eyes follow the tossing and turning of the clothes in the washing machine, and sometimes, they trail back to you.

And you — you’re sitting in a corner, arms folded, still uncertain whether you should wait for an apology or opt for one yourself.

The distance is childish. You’re way more mature than that.

But your fight is childish, too, and you guess sometimes, even healthy couples fall back into kindergarten routines.

Once the clothes are done and dry, the journey back home approaching, he helps you out. Tramps to you, mutters a little, “Gimme. I’ll take this.”

The bag strap drags his hoodie off his shoulder a little, revealing the flowery tattoo. He doesn’t fix it; lost in thoughts and silent until home. As if he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

In the apartment, he asks, “Dinner or takeout?”

And you, learning and indisputably craving his affection in any shape or form, answer, “We can make dinner.”

“I’ll do it. Get some rest.”

You sigh in relief. There’s solace in your gratitude — today was arduous, much like the preceding days of this week. You bide your time until he’s done, and then help him set the table and clean the kitchen.

The evening passes without any hostility, but ends without many gestures of fondness, too.

THURSDAY

“You don’t need to come, too. I bet you’ve other stuff to do.”

Jungkook adjusts to your steps. He snatched a jacket way too insufficient for the frosty weather, but he won’t hurry if you don’t. Doesn’t stray from your side.

So you walk faster. Then he does, too.

He rubs his nose, shrugs a shoulder and responds, “I’ve nothing much to do today, really.”

“Yeah, but,” you pull at the sleeves of his jacket, urging him to rush through the wind, “you’ll get bored. And I’m a big girl.”

“I know that. But it’ll be fine. Wanna make sure you’re okay, too.”

He nudges your elbow. You can’t pinpoint whether he’s daring an attempt to set things right or is genuinely concerned. Or both. In some way, the tension between you lingers, and you can’t shake off the awkward feeling just yet.

So you only nod, holding off an answer for a moment. Staring ahead, you listen to the soft sounds of the city, blinded by headlights soon passing you by. A bit longer and the first snow will fall.

The consoling feeling of winter days draws closer, feels warm despite the frigid wind. Hot chocolatesque. There’s just something about wool shawls and warm jackets and old, animated Christmas movies.

One thing you miss about living in your parents’ big, fancy house in your very old neighbourhood is the chimney. The soft yellow and orange of the crackling fire, melting the cold over your skin.

Sometimes you’d sit on the fleecy white carpet, protected by a thick, warm turtleneck sweater, watching the dancing flames.

You wonder again — if Jungkook and you are truly written in the stars as one, will you move into a bigger place one day? Save money and expand the comfort of the current apartment, investing in even more soothing walls with a couple little additions.

Not the lush, exaggerated luxury you grew up with. Not necessarily anything snobby.

But casual, domestic things, like a fire side you can sit in front of, drinking tea, slow dancing and giggling in the dark. Lit by the chimney fire; familiarity.

You sigh.

“It’s been long since I went to the dentist, too,” Jungkook then says, and you hum. That’s sudden.

“You should go then.”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes darting from your face to your hands. You unintentionally bury them in the pockets of your jacket the moment he reaches out for you; and when he understands that you didn’t notice, he curls his fingers into fists. “Maybe I can get an appointment now? Do they take walk-ins?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t know.” Then, upon realisation, you laugh a little and say, “I’m not going to the dentist.”

“What?”

“What?” You stare back with eyes as big as his. “Optometrist, Koo.”

His raised eyelids are nothing new. He’s attentive when it comes to you; recognises, notices and remembers every little thing. But you guess he truly has been tired, too.

And you feel bad for not considering it as much as he considered it. The reason he cooked for you in the first place, right?

You press your lips into a line, stare down to a puddle on the ground; an aftermath of the rain.

“Oh,” he makes, “why did I think we were going to— Sorry. My bad.”

In actuality, you did wonder if he knew. He didn’t ask questions when you told him you were leaving; simply announced he was going with. You were pulling socks over your ankles as his rushing form scurried across the room.

You guessed he’d figured it out. But the fact that he was ready to accompany you without a certain clue where you were heading makes you a little giddy.

Clearing your throat, you clarify, “No worries. It’s about that pain in my eyes. Remember?”

You wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t. Preceding your fight by perhaps a couple minutes, you don’t think the tiny statement still holds any relevance to him anymore.

Right?

Wrong.

“Yeah,” he answers, “yeah, of course. You thought it was an infection.”

“Mhm,” you hum, ignoring the butterfly wing slamming against your insides, “I’m so sure it’s an infection.” You click your tongue. “Itch first, and now it gives me migraines.”

“Yeah, you told me… But. It’s nothing serious, I just know.”

You look at his sculpted side profile.

You know him. Jungkook doesn’t actually know, of course — that’s not why he’s saying that he does.

But because hope is better than pure uncertainty; and he likes trying to manifest. He believes in little miracles like this. Knocks on wood a lot, tries not to voice potential disasters in case they might actually roll around.

So you take the reassurance. Walk to the clinic in silence. Attempt more small talk in the waiting room until they drench your corneas in those odd, blinding eye drops, dilating your pupils.

The brief, quick tests follow; the assistant is young and gentle, and you try your best to be a good patient. She seems to enjoy your temporarily formal behaviour, perfected in the years you grew to be a reputable heir.

You drop it once you’re in the waiting room again, awaiting the final consultation and results.

Jungkook is a restless companion. No matter how irritating, you’re used to the constant swaying and the movements of his legs. One might think he is anxious for you, eyes locking on the head doc’s office door every now and then.

Yet, he wonders, “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?” you repeat, breathing out a tiny, amused laugh. “Nah. He’s really nice. And it’s just some eye stuff.”

“Well, eyes are important.”

The words come out quickly, but the last syllable dies gradually.

You smile.

Jungkook sometimes reminisces about a time when he’d hide from relatives or eat lunch at the back of class back in elementary school. He tires out the term introvertness, and you repeatedly retort with a certain ambivertness.

At times, he’s loud, flirty, annoying and confident — gives you a hard time believing that he ever averted a girl’s gaze or hid behind his cousins.

But then… there are moments when you see it.

Like now.

The puffy cheeks, the youthful pout, the big, big eyes flashing to the ground. Unsure what to say, unsure what you’re thinking of him.

Until he gulps, keeping his voice quiet and low as he continues, “Have you ever had a private optometrist?”

Huh. Not a question you expected. You guess starting the week with a discussion about wealth makes him think of such things these days.

“Yeah,” you say, shifting in your seat. You can still not see him clearly; his features are blurry, and you squint. “When I was younger. Big, bright places and top notch equipment.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I mean… It's not like usually used equipment, like here, is any worse than theirs. Also, same reason as why I went to a public college. Normalcy, I guess.”

“Odd.”

“…Why?”

“Because,” he draws a sharp breath, staring ahead. “Despite all the normalcy, you’re as extraordinary as can get. Money or not.”

A heartbeat passes. Among the sounds of the quiet chatter around you and the ads in the TV at lowest volume, your breath mingles with the hushed noises like a whisper.

His slowly blinking eyes are genuine, your reflection in his dark brown orbs clear. White dots sparkle like constellations in the sky, bright and plenty. It’s nice that they remind you of the sentimentality in his heart after every single serious or dumb, big or small fight.

For a moment, you keep looking. Your fingers twitch, urging to reach out, but as they start moving off your knee, you hear a call of your name.

Jungkook leans back, clearing his throat, smiles at you as you get to your feet and meet the doctor’s stare, kindly gesturing inside the examination room.

A couple more tests, a friendly conversation, more orders from his side before he gives you a diagnosis and a prescription. 

And when you head out, Jungkook’s still sitting right where you left him. One leg restless again, leaning forwards, arms on his thighs and hands intertwined. His head is hanging between his shoulders; even from afar, you see his lashes move, eyes slowly blinking.

You can’t quite explain it, but you love this point of view — when you can see his parted lips, the lower one pillowy, partly hidden behind his button nose. Cheeks round. You truly do love this watching-from-above-angle.

Even though it clearly suggests he’s bored out of his mind. Beyond done with this place, but still here, waiting for you.

You clutch the strap of your bag again, sighing, and then move towards him with light steps. The back of your fingers reaches out then, brushing against his temple a tiny moment before he detects your shoes and looks up.

“Oh. That was fast,” he says; his eyes are drooping. He had a long morning in the attic. “What did he say?”

He gets off the seat, moving his stiff neck and cracking it a little, hand flashing up to his shoulder. You explain, “I need eye drops. Two to three times a day.”

“Ah. Then we could get them right now.”

You nod, allowing a little smile, telling him as you head out, “My eyes are okay, though. Somehow, my vision has improved, too.”

Jungkook’s lips form an excited Oh, but when he sees your expression, he says, “But you seem bummed about it.”

Ah. Well.

You feel ungrateful thinking that way, but…

“In some way?” you admit. “I’d rather have an infection that can be fixed with antibiotics and won’t come back so easily instead of… you know. Having to constantly rely on eye drops. It just sounds so permanent.”

Another deep sigh; you’re exhausted as well. “And I’ll have to remember to use them.”

“Hmm,” he voices, holding the door open for you. He zips his jacket close as you step out; an immediate breath cloud forming when he exhales. “Set an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah. Just knowing myself…”

“I’ll remind you then.”

The suggestion is immediate, albeit accompanied by a seemingly nonchalant shrug of his shoulder; jacket’s sleeves adorably pulled over his hands.

“Once in the morning. You set an alarm for lunch and then I remind you again when you take your birth control pill at night. Yeah?”

The bitter feeling of the fight vanishes a little; you try to ignore the residual awkwardness, apologies probably still due. But right now, your conversation follows a different path, so you settle on a soft, little, “Thank you, Kook.”

He always does that. Remind you of your meds.

Your vitamins, your pills, that one nose spray hydrating your nose flora to prevent your mucosa from drying out or whatever your ENT doc told you. He did last night, too.

He always does — even if it means forgetting about his own responsibilities.

You blink a couple times, rubbing your eyelids before you admit, “Still hurts. Can barely see… and the streetlamps are so bright?”

“Lemme look.”

He stops in his tracks and you follow; his hand catches your wrist, pulling your fingers away from your eyes, and you turn to him slowly. You’re still attempting to clear your vision, so he orders, “Stop blinking.”

And once you do, he moves in. Takes your face in his already warm hands, staring, squinting, humming. He looks focused, and you raise your eyebrows, waiting for a conclusion until he finally mutters, “Damn.”

“What?”

He seems impressed. Looks a bit longer. You repeat, “What? Are they red? Swollen or something?”

“Nah,” he lets your face go, already stepping back as if dodging your proximity. “But,” he starts; you stare like a puppy, only breaking when he adds, “they’re pretty as fuck.”

Your playful punch rises as if on instinct.

One part of your relationship that never changed was your bicker, starting with annoyance and morphing into frisky, flirty remarks. You consider it the foundation of what makes the two of you a unit.

You grit your teeth, but can’t bite back the smile.

“Dude,” you scold, and he covers his arm instinctively, evading the punch looming over him.

But you don’t deliver it after all, dropping your hand, shaking your head instead. You say, “If you hadn’t helped me survive today, I’d—”

You steer towards him, attempting another scare, and he plays along with a flinch just before he starts laughing again. Hums and nods emphasise his words when he agrees, “You survived like a true champ. A big girl, you said, right?”

“Sure am.”

“Mhm. …My big girl?”

“Gross. Shut up.”

The atmosphere will stay odd for a while. That’s okay, you guess. At least it allows for a bit of amusement, hard to hide as you smile a little, bite your lip.

You lower your head, veiling your beam behind your hair, but you know he sees. Matches your smile — perhaps even a bit brighter than your own.

FRIDAY

The fast approaching weekend usually eases a week’s tension. But considering the mounting workload you tackled today and the endless Saturday you’ll be dealing with very soon, your muscles don’t relax just yet.

Imprisoned behind the bars of work, your thoughts circle around the schedule for tomorrow. In that sense, you come home late and can’t quite bother with the stress that spread throughout the first half of the week.

Jungkook already scarfed down tonight’s dinner, comfortably laying in bed and balancing the laptop on his stomach. From the sound of it, he’s watching videos of various genres.

Sitting on the living room couch and indulging in a short story for just a bit, you hear the enthusiastic voices of chefs rattling down recipes every now and then. It’s a hobby of his, but you can’t help but feel bad.

He studies those YouTube videos to improve his cooking skills, and you, ungratefully, leave the rest of his effort in the goddamn fridge. You sigh.

If you had the energy and will to talk it out, you’d do it now. You couldn’t all day.

He was still asleep when you left, and after work, you went to a brief dinner with a coworker to dash through details for tomorrow. Looking at the plan, you hope for at least a sliver of fun amidst the photoshoot chaos.

When you returned home, Jungkook was gaming right where you’re sitting now. You showered, only to find him back in the bedroom, with his eyes glued to said laptop. And now, as you approach the bed to end the night, he walks past you with falling eyelids.

He rubs them with the back of his tattooed hand, a tired pout on his face contradicting the seemingly badass image that the ink usually gives him. Hard shell, soft core and all.

“Be right ba—,” Jungkook’s hazy voice informs, last syllable broken by a yawn. “Go to bed, okay?”

His palm moves across your upper arm as he passes you by, and you nod, steering towards the inviting, warm mattress. Its surface melts with your body when you drop. God, you’re exhausted; can barely think.

You don’t think it’ll take you particularly long to drift away; and just when your consciousness slips, you feel an arm around you.

A soft hug, enveloping you. He drops his face to yours, lips gently pressing against your cheek for a moment before he adjusts the blanket over the two of you.

A current of warmth courses through your veins, and you draw a deep, long breath of affection when he cuddles into you. He must be thinking you’re asleep but slowly falling out of dreams, because he pulls you in and rubs your arm.

An effective tactic he usually wields to help you fall asleep. 

He puts a leg gently over yours, his body so close to yours that you feel bits of the combustion of your heart.

Because…

Despite your stupid feud, you’re kind of happy that he’s joined you under the thin blanket, pressing more featherlight kisses against your scalp. Sighs against it.

And you can’t withhold the smile when he brushes over your clothed tummy and whispers, “My feisty little girl.” 

SATURDAY

You remember to unclench your jaw.

The stress hardens your muscles. Your limbs are stiff, eyes unblinking until they dry out. Fingers wrapped around your phone, you hold the device firmly, shutting out the telling vibrations of notifications.

This cannot be.

There are a hundred fires burning around you. Erupted chaos causes panic, and in the middle of it are you, clueless and vexed beyond measure.

It’s one thing cancelling a shoot a couple days before it takes place — and another thing to call sick at the very last moment. You didn’t think the model would ditch you like this… but now that he has, you can’t figure out how to replace the missing piece of the shoot.

Your troubled co-workers call out a dozen names, but you don’t say a word, gazing around with a crease between your eyebrows.

This whole thing needs to be out in the open by Friday, and the photographers and editors need time. So, postponing this to Monday and the release of the ads to another weekend won’t work, right?

No.

You’re at the headquarters of this brand. And you’re one of the organisers of this shoot and project. Every single shop will need to postpone if you do.

Unprofessional. Goes against the schedule.

The complaints are still on full blast when you see a calm movement from the corner of your eye. You move your head to the left, peeking through the glass door, and on the other side awaits—

A wide-eyed man, staring inside, observing the tumult like he’s stepped into the jungle. He’s wearing a white shirt, tucked into jeans, long bangs hanging into his eyes and enhancing the sweet gaze so wonderfully.

Pieces of your stress melts — but you still can’t figure out why he’s standing there.

You walk to the door automatically, throwing a tiny smile when he detects you among the staff. A big hand waves in tiny, and you open to let him in.

“Hey,” you greet, pushing back to where you stood before. He follows. “What are you doing here?”

As you come to a stand, he puts a hand on your waist lightly, drawing close to press a kiss to your temple. Then, he responds, “Picking you up?”

“Wh—”

Oh. Shit.

You were going to go out and celebrate the end of the stressful week. He’d suggested it last weekend because he already knew how hectic today would be.

Ughhhh.

You’re terrible.

Jungkook realises your forgetfulness the moment your expression changes into a guilty one. His curious, innocent look drops with his eyebrows, and he sighs when you say, “I’m sorry, Kook.”

When he stares down at his shoes, you feel a wave of shame; the noise around you fades for just a second as he half sullenly, half disappointedly asks, “Really?”

“I swear… It’s not my fault.”

It’s not an excuse; not a lie.

He looks disheartened; knowing him, stupid argument or not, he was probably looking forward to this. Fuck, you feel bad.

Despite his obvious drop in mood, he doesn’t say anything much. Instead, he nods and assures, “It’s fine. What happened?”

You look around again. From afar, you see a coworker approach. She looks hopeful and you take the crumbs, but you still explain, “Everything should be done by now. We got most of the pictures, but… one of the guys bailed on us.”

“Shit, really? What now?”

You shrug your shoulders, once again racking your brain for a solution. People here are counting on you, but it’s not you who brings the very first somewhat reasonable suggestion of today.

Only somewhat reasonable, though.

Because the coworker approaching ogles at Jungkook like a pirate at a treasure, pupils big and wondering as she suddenly says, “Hold. Did you come up with that?”

You blink.

Then ask, “What?”

“You called him here?”

“What?” you repeat, a confused, little parrott.

She rolls her eyes, “He,” she points at Jungkook with a thumb, “is not allowed in here. Usually. So I assumed you called him as a replacement.” She tilts her head. “And he’s freaking perfect!”

Per—

What? No, no, no. That’s absolutely nothing you planned or permitted.

“No?” Instinctively, you take a step to the side, right in front of his broad shoulders as if to protect him from harm. You argue, “He’s not a model. He’s an artist.”

From behind, you hear, “I’m just an artist.”

“Yeah, but,” she throws back, “you’re art, too. I won’t lie.”

Another step back until your back almost touches his chest. His fingertips graze your hip, as a warning before you stumble over his feet. You can imagine the subtle rosy dust on his cheek; he’s fond of compliments.

As everyone is, you suppose. But. 

“Hey, careful,” you tell her, disguising it as a joke, but feeling the lightest burn in your stomach when he laughs at her words.

She raises her pretty lips to a prettier smile, nodding in reassurance as she promises, “Yes, I know he’s taken.”

Another quiet chuckle from behind you, and you cock an eyebrow before he changes the topic and admits, “Seriously, I’m not a model at all and barely know what these things are like…”

To which she waves off his concerns and explains, “Oh, you just need to look good. We’d put some make up and clothes on you, a few pics and we’re done.”

Sounds easy enough. A bit like an insult to actual models, kind of putting those to shame who ran across stages for years to study, internalise and perfect their movements.

But you don’t correct her because you’re desperate, too. And right now, this sounds the easiest.

Still, he murmurs, “I’m not sure.”

“I understand if not,” she says. Her tone changes, fragments of frustration in it. “It’s just that we’re running out of options.”

Once more, you play out the upcoming week mentally. Postponing the last shoot. Postponing the release. Postponing the seasonal launch.

None of this is your fault, but you’d still be the one to get all the wary looks.

As if on cue, Jungkook squeezes your hip, and you look at him with worry painted across your face. You know he sees it immediately, but he still asks, “Is it that bad?”

You nibble at your lip, putting a hand over his as you say, “Yeah. We do need someone.”

“Is that allowed? Can I just replace a guy?”

“I’m technically the boss here, so you’d just need my permission,” you take a breath and then click your tongue, “I mean, usually we’d just reschedule, but we don’t have the time and those shoots already take hours. And in your case, we’d do all the paperwork, contract stuff later.”

“Would it help you?”

He’s considerate. Even in a stressful moment like this, the gentle tone, the deep care makes you weak. The answer’s already clear, but you still tell him, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Again, it… might take up to two hours or so.”

“But it’d help you, babe, wouldn’t it? Unless you don’t want me to. Then I won’t.”

You don’t have a single problem with this; in fact, you’d be happy to put him in front of a camera. His genuine thoughtfulness liquefies you — you’re a puddle at this point.

“Oh, I… Jungko—”

Juri intrudes, “I’m sorry,” carefully, she inches closer, nodding over her shoulder, “Just wanna say that we have a lot of designers in our team. They do logos and make the posters and all. Maybe, if they saw you — because the country already knows you as her artistic man from newspapers — they could teach you some digital art stuff.”

“I…” Jungkook starts. He’s probably thinking the same — which he confirms when he adds, “I’m not sure how me modelling for you might relate to artistic stuff. But I already know a lot about digital art.”

Yeah, exactly. Of course he does; what else did he wade through college for throughout these years?

“But,” she lifts a finger, infinite force in one word already, “have you ever tried expensive equipment and all?”

Oh oh. You feel bad.

Is that the group of society you represent? Maybe you guys are a little pretentious after all, dealing and seducing with money.

But he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t dare to challenge her when he steps next to you and says, “I can do it, but not for that digital art offer.” He puts a hand on your back, rubbing lightly and briefly, “For her.”

You fold your arms under your chest; less to show dominance, but more to press against the butterflies. There’s a type of nausea falling in love elicits, deep in your stomach where everything appears so surreal and beautiful that it makes you oddly sick.

The first time your pupils took on their heart shape was the first moment Jungkook practised that effect on you; made you realise what inevitable emotions he was pulling you into.

That effect has not faltered; your guts still twist.

At least, for a couple minutes.

Because the second your coworker-vultures attack him and drag him to the back room, something changes. Nervousness, you guess. You know the clothes that are awaiting him, but stepping out of makeup and into the spotlight leaves you gasping for air.

From afar, he’s leering at you.

Wearing a snow white shirt, tucked into his pants, priorly tousled hair still messy but styled in curls. Yes, you might know your collection — but you didn’t think it’d fit him like second skin.

Why did you doubt it, though? Jungkook could wear a trash bag and still compete against Adonis.

For a moment, he stands still, entangling his fingers, looking around. Then, he’s smiling in uncertainty, awkwardly putting his hands on his tiny waist, waiting for directions.

Juri tip-toes towards you, as if you’re filming a scene in a drama. She pulls the clipboard to her chest, one digit pointing to your struggling man before she says, “He’s adorable.”

You nod. “I wonder how he’ll do.”

“Well, yeah,” she murmurs, half distracted; but then she averts her eyes from him, looking from your nervous lips up to your furrowed eyebrows before she assures, “Worst case scenario, we’ll postpone. End of story. At least we tried.”

“Hmm… Well, let’s hope it won’t be that case.”

Which, you soon realise, it certainly isn’t.

A couple professional suggestions by the director and Jungkook gets into position. The initial movements of his hands and body are a little strange and awkward, and you can’t help but want to pull him from this chaos and wrap him in a fuzzy blanket.

But the seemingly feigned adorable stance soon shifts into something unexpectedly dangerous when he raises his chin. Thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he relaxes his body, lips suddenly forming a tempting, slight pout.

He doesn’t usually look like that…

“Wow,” you whisper, faintly registering Juri’s fascinated nod from the side.

This is still a harmless pose, you think; one the director dared him to do. But you’re surprised by the sudden confidence, the way Jungkook doesn’t fumble or stutter or question anything.

Some of his softness shines through the moment the photographer gives a thumbs up, a tattooed hand cracking the fingers of the others. Doe eyes back, he leans forwards as if he could peek at the pictures like that, asking cautiously, “That okay?”

He looks different. Why does he look different?

“That was great! Perfect start. I promise the rest is just as easy,” the team encourages him, asking him to monitor the pictures they just took.

Jungkook walks to the strangers in slow steps, chest behind the tight, white top heaving once. On his way, he looks up to you instinctively, throwing the same thumbs up at you with a questioning gaze.

And you, still baffled, smile.

Watch as he converses with the people, his grin wide when he likes what he sees — an instant confidence boost, though you still see the nervousness in his stance. Where was any of it when they clicked the photos?

As if a demon possessed him for just a minute. Dual and dangerous.

Then again, he’s not very different in your daily life. A celestial soul on some days, catering to your every whim, never letting your feet touch the ground.

And a beast on others, inhaling your sounds like a starving incubus, never heaving your body off the mattress.

The duality doesn’t disappear with this very first outfit.

When some music starts playing and they tell him to move freely, filming the sequences for the ads, your eyeballs nearly fall out of your eyes. And you finally realise why he looks so different now.

Because the moment his thumb touches his lower lip, mimicking a wiping motion (much like he does after kissing you sometimes), you see the silver-plated jewellery glimmering from all the way from the set.

Lip ring.

Whose idea…

“What did you do back there?” you ask, near-panicking, your heart dropping into your panties.

Juri flinches, asking, “What?”

“Is that a lip ring? You gave him a—”

You puff out a breath; it’s immensely difficult to be mad at him like this. He’s been looking…

“Shouldn’t we have?” her tiny voice asks; her body shrinks a little.

“I mean. I just. It wasn’t planned.”

“Yeah, but look how amazing he looks.”

You’re seeing it, alright.

The subtle touches, the light tugging at his shirt. Movements just right. He looks all serious, like a beast, hotter than motherfucking hell. Transports your saliva into your windpipe with each look he sports.

Until you actually feel yourself choking and gagging once he leaves and comes back for the next shoot twenty minutes later.

Because why on Earth did they omit the shirt under the grey blazer?

You’re close to dashing to costume and makeup, confronting them to ask why they chose to toy with your sanity like this. Because… the lip ring is still there. His hair is suddenly slicked back. Fingers adorned with rings.

And he looks so goddamn good.

Maybe it’s your fault. You told them you trusted them, and that they were supposed to do as they pleased. And they are… they so are.

All of him, like a strong magnet, pulls you in, but you keep your feet firmly on your spot, cementing yourself in place. There’s something incredibly attractive about the way he presents himself — new, talented.

You’re fidgety, a sexually frustrated observer when he touches his jacket, pulling it open just a little. The inked hand is veiny; you see it from here, too. The light gesture allows glimpses of his chest.

Small, perked, brown nipples. Lines and ripples of his abs firm. Ending in his V-line, hidden behind the peeking underwear and blue, baggy jeans.

Heavy chains are already menacing when he shuts his eyelids and parts his lips. Worse when he leans forwards, hazy eyes staring into the camera as if he’s about to devour the camerawoman.

Jeon Jungkook is a hazardous danger to society. The world will want him — and he’ll only want you.

Fuck.

You’re drooling. Drowning in your own puddle. Crossing your legs.

And when they tell him to sit, ordering to open the button of his jeans and push it down his hips just a bit, the little yous in your brain wreak havoc.

A fire starts in the organised office of your mind, red sirens blaring, and you look at Juri as you ask, “Why is he naked?! Why’s the blazer off his shoulder?!!”

“Because,” she defends, hiding behind the clipboard; it’s not her fault. That’s what the other model would’ve done, too. “Underwear ads!”

You’re aware. You just didn’t think it’d be Jungkook ending up in this position. Perhaps you didn’t think it through; didn’t know what it’d do to you.

But his effect pools in your lower stomach; so intense, you might cry.

“What the fuck,” you mumble when he takes the jacket off, sitting up and improvising all of a sudden. A hand covers his mouth, the blazer thrown over his shoulder. “What’s the point of holding it? He’s not even wearing it.”

“Because,” she starts again, “we’re focusing on the underwear.” Where’s the focus on the underwear? You can barely see it. Are people plotting against you? “It’s okay.” She pats your shoulder. “No one’s gonna touch him, love.”

You bite your lip. You know.

You aren’t distressed because you’re mad. But because knowing that everybody will crave him and nobody will get him turns you on more.

The fact that you’re the only one he’ll look at with those starry eyes; with the hunger in his gaze. The only one he’ll press into your bed, lips close to your ears, whispering endearments and filthy, little promises.

This man wants you, and you can barely handle that truth.

New thoughts and ideas form in your mind, too wild and desperate to be occurring right in this moment. So you mentally whoosh them away, holding on for the rest of the neverending shoot until a round of genuine applause sounds around the big set.

God. Okay. Hours of torture later, and he’s done.

A shy bow. No. This monster might convince anyone else, but you know he’s not as innocent as he gives himself.

He jogs over to you, says quietly enough for only you to hear, “Don’t tell them, but that was great.” You can imagine. He backs away, looks down to his defined abs, “I need to change. And then we can head home, they said.”

You blink, perplexed and still out of words. Which he struggles to interpret, looking over his shoulder and then back to you. Unsure, he adds, “Unless you need to wrap things up.”

When a random shout echoes through the room, you awake, inhaling deeply before you tell him, “No, I. I mean, yeah, we’ll wrap things up, but that shouldn’t take too long. Should be mostly done when you are.”

He nods. Waves, and then steers towards the others, shaking hands and exchanging smiles. Short convos. Then, to the back room. 

You’re too out of your mind and tired to chat much with staff. You go through the next steps, talk about waiting for the editor to be done with the photos, list the leftover things on your to-do list before the winter launch.

And that’s it. You meet Jungkook at the exit to the hallway, relieved when the end of the day approaches. On your way back home, you converse lightly, though he stops when you yawn one too many times.

He lets you rest as you pass shops and traffic lights, and holds your hand when you get off the vehicle. Drags you up the stairs; the climb is arduous. And then allows you to get ready for your slumber in peace.

The second the back of your head collides with the cold pillow, your eyes drop shut. The world spins behind your tired eyelids, adjusting to the darkness and the silence.

A sigh of relief pushes out of your mouth; a profound sense of tranquillity calms your lit nerves. Jungkook, next to you, seems just as exhausted because the yawn as soon as he slips under the covers is long and tear-inducing.

He’s blinking away the dampness of fatigue when you look over to him; you haven’t talked much since you arrived home, but Jungkook uses the moment to say, “I had a lot more fun than I expected to have.”

You’re so incredibly thankful for his last-minute rescue. But you can’t help but think of the muscles and expressions an hour prior. The seductive gaze, the lip accessory, the ring-clad fingers.

Perhaps it’s because of the time of the month, but you feel vexed by how affected you feel.

You control your tone, though the word still sounds monotone when you say, “Good.”

Catching upon it immediately, he shifts slowly, sniffling and head propping up on his hand before he asks, “Did you not like it?”

“Oh no, I mean,” you start, “you were amazing. I just didn’t know they’d send you out naked for the world to see. Thought the plan was to close a couple buttons.”

“The stylists told me. I think it was a spontaneous change because—”

You glance at him when he hesitates. A sly smile spreads across his features, just a little guilty yet amused as he watches your curiosity grow.

“What?” you ask.

“Nevermind.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“It’s nothing!” he exclaims. “We just thought it’d look cool. I thought you’d like it, too, actually.”

You did. That’s the issue. You liked it enough for it to burn into your mind, and now you can’t shake the image anymore.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him butt naked, buried inside you without a gap between your skin — something about his confidence and eyes stirred an unknown level of desire in you.

But you can’t tell him. Because the thing you want won’t be possible right now. You keep your thoughts veiled.

Instead, you unleash your annoyance because God, you hate him for being so hot.

“Right,” is all you say.

“Hey, don’t worry. Even if they ask, I’m not doing this again.”

“Might make you famous, though,” you mumble.

He snorts, fingers sneaking to your tummy, “So what? That’s not my profession. I didn’t study to become a model. Will work on my actual efforts.”

“Okay.”

The single word forces a sigh out of him, and he shakes his head, tapping his fingers against your stomach as he whispers your name thrice. Like he’s scolding you.

And then, “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you spit without hesitation, “of whom?”

You’re not. And you know that just for the moment, he won’t believe you. Which is fine. You’ll tell him the truth once your period’s over for the month.

“Of people who might see me and like what they see.”

Okay. Jerk.

At this point, he is doing it on purpose. You see it in the cocky smile and the jesting tone and the way his fingertips draw circles over your shirt, itching to sneak underneath the fabric.

You know him.

He’s so annoying.

“No,” you repeat.

“You sure? Huh?” Fuck, not that sulky voice. You close your eyes, but he raises your chin, making your head move. “Look at me, angel.”

“Hmm?”

“You said no, but you do look a little fiery,” he tells you. Yeah, if he knew that the real reason doesn’t lie in envy or whatever the world thinks of him. “What? My girl is jealous of people I won’t even perceive?”

No.

But she does feel the tickling, flattering lust pooling in her lower stomach, Jeon, thank you very much.

“Jungkook,” you start, although breathier when he moves closer, towards your neck. “Don’t be annoying.”

Which triggers a slightly mocking tone; he tuts before he says, “Baby bails on our date today. Will fight me in a restaurant. And then I’m annoying?”

Your answer is immediate and as shameless as can be.

“Yes.”

And it makes him laugh. Hot and sudden against your skin, his breath makes you shiver more than the relentless cold outside ever could.

“Not gonna lie,” he begins, “that brat behaviour isn’t too terrible.”

“Shut the fuck up, you just—”

He just what? You don’t know. Your sentence floats between you when his nose raises your chin, freeing the path to your neck before he’s nuzzling it slowly.

You feel goosebumps at the back of your neck, hair standing up, tingles across your body where you didn’t deem them possible. Under the blanket, your legs shift, and he hurries to move one of his between yours.

Hand still on your shirt, he places a barely-there, soft kiss to your neck; his fine tresses tickle your face and you crumble.

You have long forgotten your unfinished sentence, but he hasn’t. Asks, “What?”

You bury your nails into his arm, intrigued by the little hiss followed by a subtle laugh. Growing in volume when you say, “I kinda hate you right now.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, stretching the second word, “I hate you, too. Absolutely loathe you.”

You silence. Hold onto him when he French kisses between your neck and shoulder. And then breathe, “Then go away.”

“Mhh. Maybe I should.”

“Maybe…”

And then, out of the blue, his teeth dig into your neck like a gentle vampire, stopping immediately when you wince desperately. A hot tongue soothes the bite, a strong hand pushing you down by your shoulder again when your body lifts off the bed just a bit.

He keeps you in place, moving to your jaw. And when you whimper in lust and want, navigating his leg closer to your core, he curses, “Fucking hell, babe.”

Then, he’s inhaling, fingers wandering from your shoulder to your wrist as lips finally clash.

His body moves half onto yours, slowly gauging your reaction to the kiss as if he’s still expecting the burst of cumulated emotions. But when you give into his gesture, granting him your tongue, his face moves further against yours.

Undecided fingers let your wrist go, getting ahold of a patch of your hair. You hold his arms again until you wrap yours around him, fingers on the nape of his neck as you pull him in.

You tilt your heads in unison, deepening the kiss, drinking him up. Let him open your lips with his, keeping them like that, tips of your tongues playing with each other.

His touch drops to your waist and down to your pyjamas, pushing them down a little, grazing your panties. But then, his teasing palm floats up again and settles over one of your tits, squeezing once and drawing a telling moan out of you.

No bra.

He loves your little habits. You live through them casually, never noticing how badly they empty his mind.

Seems your head is blanking just as much at his touches; because you look delirious, lost, breathing in and out heavily. Jungkook basks in the expression, pushing a hand to your neck.

And only when he presses in gently, trapping you in place, do you seem to wake.

Eyes shoot open, and you inhale deeply, as if saved from drowning; remember every bit of today. The lines of his abs. The lip ring. The jewellery on his fingers.

You could ask for him to go on, to wreck you thoroughly. But of all arguments stopping you from doing so, there’s one damn reason that asks to prevent the mess.

Fucking period. Would create a literal bloody chaos. And you’re exhausted.

The thing is — if you asked him, you know he’d give it to you.

He’s reckless and careless. But you can’t risk the state of your sheets and the state of your mind. You have more work to do tomorrow; also, if you continued now, you’d be tired and immobile tomorrow, you know — and you need to be awake for this.

Fully in your senses.

Ugh. Fuck.

And the last damn day of the red waterfall, too. Thinking about it, perhaps that’s the reason for your agitation this week.

In hindsight, you know you’re never bitchy like that — he didn’t give you the nickname of an angel for nothing, right? Fuck PMS. Fuck mood swings.

Your poor boy, enduring the wrath of it.

But maybe you need to act pissed just a bit longer because—

“What?” he asks.

It’s not the time. So you stop him, pushing him away lightly. Shake your head, calling forth a crease between your eyebrows, turning away just a bit.

He falls back, once again keeping his upper body up by his arm. Inquires, “I— are you still mad?”

Truthfully, you answer flatly, “I’m on my period.”

“So?” he answers, laughing until he sees your lips, pressed into a serious line. “I’m not scared of some blood.”

You knew it. He’d give in if you told him to.

But what you want can’t be received during this time of the month. What you want requires unhinged chaos, carelessness, breathlessness. Craze of many minutes, hours.

You want more than a short, cautious session that asks you to peek at the sheets and the towel you’d get every now and then. You want to fucking lose yourself in hi—

“Let’s not,” you answer, your tone nonchalant, “Just. Let’s go to sleep, alright?”

He murmurs your name, trying again; but when you turn on your belly, giving a last sign to end the night, you hear him groan quietly.

You grimace when his head falls onto the pillow with an angry thump, movements under the blanket agitated as he scolds, “My God. Alright. You wanna be pissed for an entire week, then be pissed. I can’t do more than that.”

Oof.

If he only knew. And something in you tells you that he will very soon.

SUNDAY

Too lazy to work through the preparation process in the kitchen, Jungkook and you quietly decide to spend lunch outside.

The café nearby is a place you’ve wanted to visit for quite some time now. And despite the flaky, dry sandwiches they served, you’re glad time passed quickly, the awkward conversations between you coming to an end.

When you return from the bathroom, the sky above looks grey. Desolate. The weather forecast predicted a surprisingly pleasant late fall day, but the approaching rain is obvious. Which, you anticipated more than the weather forecast did, really.

That’s why an umbrella is leaning against the leg of the table, and you grab it as you watch Jungkook fumble with his wallet, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He gulps down the last sip of his Matcha Latte, dimples above the corner of his lips as he smacks the taste away. Then, he gets to his feet, asks, “Ready to go?”

Absent-mindedly, you nod, glancing to the sky and then back to him again. He looks sweet and domestic; but you can’t quite take him seriously. Not necessarily because of the fight anymore.

It’s been far too many days to still dwell.

But because of the damn lip ring, the open jacket, the gelled back hair. His destructive expressions. Like he could devour you whole.

Jungkook doesn’t stay angry for a long time, you’ve noticed. He always tells you how his temper used to be worse as a teenager, but how he’s learned to control himself.

Agonies of childhood, relationships and friendships taught him patience. And you notice. You truly notice.

Because he hands you your purse sweetly, immediately stretching his palm towards you. A slight smile spreads across his face, and you respond with a weak one of yours. Take his hand and let him lead you home.

You’ll walk the short distance; it shouldn’t take longer than seven or eight minutes.

And as you approach home, the hand holding yours mimics the motions of the one gripping the umbrella — he brings both arms into swing, somewhat euphoric but casual when he says, “The food was so dry there.”

It’s odd, talking to him like that after several days again. But you nod slowly, and agree, “I know. But at least we know where not to go anymore.”

“Yeah. But I mean, great beverages.”

“The milkshake, too.”

He tugs you a little closer, elbows soon touching, “I still think you should’ve gotten something warmer. You get a cold fast,” he looks up with squinted eyes, “and it’s already chilly today.”

You squeeze his hand as a thank you; Jungkook cares for you in little, subtle ways, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t think of it every now and then. You answer, “I feel fine, though.”

“Okay. Hope that stays.”

His palm, soft in yours, shifts until he’s intertwining his fingers with yours, attempting a stronger grip. You lift your eyes from the ground to his face for a second, meeting a gentle smile, and feel more pieces of your heart split.

They wander through your body, along your arm and straight into his chest, merging with his own organ. If you could, you’d push him against one of the unlit lamp posts, parted lips opting for his, breathing into his mouth.

He infested your thoughts and stuck with you, no way to escape the moment you first fell for him. And somehow, he managed to keep this effect intact, digging deeper into your mind and making himself home every damn second of the day.

The desire you’ve been feeling doesn’t just stem from lip rings and talent behind the camera. But you also keep realising that you’re truly this man’s, and that this man is truly yours.

A hard truth to fathom when you’re the subject of interest to one unique Jeon Jungkook.

But you want all of him. Want him over you, around you, taking all of what no other guy will ever be allowed to touch. Want him to show you once again where you belong and that you’re in this for as long as his affection is aligned with yours.

Fuck. Home is too far away.

So you look away from him. Which he interprets in an entirely wrong way.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, an inquiry out of nowhere that has your eyebrows kissing.

“No,” you answer.

“You barely talk to me. And,” he halts to wipe away a raindrop. Guess the clouds are gathering. “And I miss you.”

Your ribs might break. He keeps doing this to you.

“I’m not mad, Kook. Was just PMS-ing before,” you try again, adding a nickname for good measure.

“You sure?”

Jungkook is a free-spirited soul, careless to a healthy degree most of the time. There are only a few things that break his composure; familial insecurities, shitty pasts — and then there’s you.

Topping his list of priorities, you’re the only aspect in his current life that pushes him into spirals of overthinking.

And right now, he’s in the middle one, requiring a thousand reassurances. You want to answer. You really do.

But the distraction from above proves too strong the second you open your mouth. In the middle of your walk, the clouds explode, roaring for a moment before a downpour suddenly showers onto you.

The raindrops are thick, the bursting clouds aggressive.

Instinctively, Jungkook opens the umbrella, hastily working on it, and once under it, your steps pick up on pace. You wrap an arm around your body, closing the jacket, hooking your other arm with his and pushing the two of you forward.

“Shit,” you say; you look up, but can barely see anything. Only hear the thunder.

The wind grows colder, grazing the skin of your face incessantly. Despite the umbrella, the merciless rain wets your cheeks, singular drops flying towards you. Jungkook’s hair covers his face, and he shakes them off his eyes.

You gasp when a literal newspaper flies past you.

“Come on,” you encourage, already shivering. “We can talk about it at home, okay?”

But surprisingly, incredibly lost in his own head, he doesn’t give in. He adjusts to your pace, holding the umbrella in a strong grip, sighs and argues, “We can talk about it anytime.”

“Not now.”

“But—”

“Kook, right now’s not the time for this.”

Holy shit.

This man is a phenomenon. And you wish he wasn’t serious, but you know that he is. A full-on simp-y fool, no matter what.

“You’ve avoided me all week,” he yells over the sounds of the rain, sniffling, looking at the storm ahead, “we won’t die. It’s just rain.”

“It’s a thunderstorm, you idiot!” you exclaim back, moving straight forward and past running passengers. You should be home soon. “And in a minute we won’t be able to see shit.”

Jungkook must be made of cement. Broad shoulders, a well-trained body and willpower seem to combat the storm when he suddenly halts in his steps.

Immediately, you grab the umbrella, keeping it from nearly flying away; and when you remain the only presence under it, you ogle back. Watch him stand there in his red-white jacket, getting soaked by Mother Nature.

What the fuck.

You rush back, grabbing his wrist, pulling him forward as much as you can as you reprimand, “What the hell are you doing? Come on.”

“You’ll talk to me if I do?”

“Jungkook, we’ll die here, I—”

You flinch and gasp when another strong wind blows, once and for all ripping the umbrella off your hand and making it fly a couple feet from you. You watch it break through the fog of rain, mouth wide open with a dozen curses on your tongue.

“Fuck,” you exclaim, gritting your teeth, “I will. Just please, okay?!”

He’s so annoying. The way he looks at you, breathing hard, white shirt drenched and sticking to his body. You tug at his arm, forcing him to run when you do.

It takes you two entire minutes, wordless as you wish them to be, to reach his street and apartment. You tremble in the hallways, rushing up the stairs, and eventually take a seconds-long breath when you step into the flat.

It’s cold. So cold — and you had your jacket protecting your shirt. Your jeans and hair are soaked, your socks a sponge, soaked in a couple millilitres of water.

But it’s relieving when you take the jacket and your jeans off, pulling out the oversized, wrinkled shirt from under your pants, covering half your thighs. Jungkook slips out of his boots and rushes for a towel, approaching your heaving form at the door to dry your hair.

You quiver for a couple more minutes, fearing an approaching cold after all. But once settled on the couch, indulging in the comfort of thick joggers and a fresh cotton shirt, you sigh.

The silence still holding on only breaks when you drop your head back on the couch. A warm hand sneaks to your cheek, and when you open your eyes, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Warming up…” You lean into the touch, though still irritated by his behaviour before. “Thought it’d rain, but that was a surprise.”

“Yeah.” A pause. And then, “Was a little romantic, too.”

Unbelievable.

You roll your eyes at him, head tilting, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Perhaps he’s joking. The goofy smile suggests that he is.

“Was it, yeah? You just—”

You click your tongue. Think back to him nearly offering his soul to Zeus just a couple minutes ago. Standing in the heavy rain as if he was the lead character in The Notebook.

“Don’t be mad now. I’m kidding,” he says. His voice isn’t as soft anymore; frustrated when he tries again, “Talk to me. What’s the problem?”

“Seriously? I told you there’s nothing.”

“Nah, cut that bullshit. You haven’t talked to me or properly touched me all week. I’m trying my fucking best.”

“I know. This isn’t what it’s about,” you defend, shaking your head, getting to your feet, “but about that insane little stunt out there.”

And the fact that he’s been driving you crazy. The week’s distress mixed with whatever he made you feel yesterday; today’s insanity further adding to it.

When he doesn’t speak, you sigh, waving it off, and opt to walk away. But all in vain.

You make it two steps away from the couch before he flashes up, too; filmesque, you gasp at the strong grip around your elbow, getting a tiny second to process the situation before he’s twirled you around.

He probably didn’t intend it, but you nearly clash against him, stupidly losing your balance and stumbling over his and your own feet. You put a hand to your temples, fearing the worst — what if you fall and clash against the corner of your glass table?

But no. In slow motion, he keeps you in his firm hold, preventing the fall, but still letting you gently drop onto the fluffy, white carpet. Your investment. You’re happy about it now because it caught you the way the wooden floor wouldn’t.

Your movements towards the grounds are slow — or at least that’s what they feel like. But when he appears above you, pinning your wrists to the carpet hard, he’s breathless; and you think that maybe the fall didn’t happen as slowly after all.

“Okay,” he says through gritted teeth. From down here, his jaw looks as sharp as a ship’s deck, the Adam’s apple bobbing when he challenges, “You’re gonna fucking tell me what’s going on.”

Oh. He’s mad.

His eyes are burning, jaw flexed. Defined chest rising in anger.

There’s nothing going on. At least nothing that warrants another fight.

But you don’t tell him that just yet. Instead, all your perplexed mind and tongue manage is, “What?”

“I forgave you. We were both shitty that day, you know? But I still did forgive you, and you’re still being like that.” His knuckles must be paling, because his grip is iron hard. “Why?”

“I—”

“I’ll apologise if that’s what you want. I did, actually. I’m sorry, okay? There. But this is just,” fingers squeeze your wrists, and you hiss, “ridiculous.”

Your following grimace, lips twitching, eyes squinting, go through to him immediately. The hold doesn’t hurt or bother you too much, but the leg between your knees does. Jungkook wouldn’t wound you; he knows his limits.

But perhaps he thinks he’s going overboard when he loosens his fingers, pressing his palms against your skin, rubbing to soothe the missing pain.

He doesn’t quite move away, though, still stubborn when you assure once again, “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“So you keep saying.”

“I’m not,” you tell him, heart racing at the proximity. You close your legs around his knee, irritated by the barrier. “I promise.”

He doesn’t give your gesture much attention just yet; doesn’t know that his body over yours is exactly what you’ve been craving. But he does understand the sincerity in your voice. Finally.

When he moves closer, pupils melting to fluid gems, you let out an intentional, teeny tiny moan that you’re sure he confuses for a relieved sigh. He moves his palms onto the carpet, caging you in; you keep your wrists where they are, but dig your nails into your skin.

You want to kiss him so badly. You miss him so much.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, angel,” he demands again, quieter and softer this time.

“I don’t know.”

With the fury evaporating bit by bit, his eyes look bigger and rounder again. The desperation of the week gathers in them and his expression, shooting all the way down to his tongue; and when he whispers to you next, your heart collapses, “Please?”

He’s sweet… so utterly oblivious to your true thoughts.

But you couldn’t feel more embarrassed about the pictures you’ve been painting and the words ghosting in that mind of yours. He’d do all of it, no questions asked. But… fuck.

“This is so dumb,” you answer, fingertips dragging down the carpet and then up to his waist, “like… you’ll laugh.”

The touch encourages him. His arms are shaking now, holding him up in this position for too long, and the wandering fingers along his sides and chest must weaken him like his lines affect you.

“That’s a good thing,” he answers, closer than ever when he balances his weight on his arms now, forearms touching the carpet. “I’d rather laugh than fight.”

But the closeness remains for mere seconds before he pulls back again, sitting up with a groan. Hands on his thighs, he lets himself fall on bended knees. He watches your still helpless body on the floor until you work on getting off the carpet, letting him pull you up when he offers a hand.

You ruffle through your hair, legs folding. Your pout is more directed towards yourself than anyone else; you totally realise you didn’t need to confuse him the way you did. Stupid period.

“Listen, I just…” you start, scraping your scalp.

His knees bump against your legs when he drifts closer; there’s something about the two of you sitting on your living room carpet like this.

“It’s just that I want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

And that’s it. That’s literally it.

He halts. His hand was moving up, probably to touch your face, your hair, anything soft to ease the mood. But he cancels the tender gesture, fingers falling back to his knee when he absorbs your words.

Silences with cocked eyebrows. Processes the way you lick your lips and look away, tugging at his wide shirt. And then, once he’s understood, he tsks. Chuckles.

And you, immediately on guard, push lightly against his shoulder, unsurprised when he doesn’t buckle, and defend, “Told you you’d laugh!”

“No, but,” he says, sweet crinkles around his eyes, head tilting and bunny teeth giving way to the prettiest smile in existence, “what are you talking about, hm?”

He knows. If only his feigned innocence was as sweet as his grin, too.

Still, you opt to clarify, “That thing you did yesterday.”

“What thing?”

Ugh.

“The whole modelling thing!” you exclaim, raising your hands. His beam reaches up to his eyes; his occasional giggles are killing you. “Stop. Do you have any clue what you looked like?”

He has the audacity to shrug. “They let me see the pics on their cameras. They’ll come out well.”

“Well? Dude, you looked…”

“What?”

“Dangerous. Like you could eat me up.”

Eat me up might be accurate. It’s the description floating through your little mind since yesterday.

“Ah,” he says, nodding smugly. You know he’s about to tease you. Because— “You specifically, yeah? I was just doing what they told me to.”

“What, is me specifically wrong? Anyone else you’d wanna eat up or—”

“You’re really fixating on that, huh?” Jungkook snickers. His tongue pokes the inside of his right cheek in a brief pause, and then he adds, “You’ve got a point. Didn’t think it’d affect you, though.”

Slowly, but surely, he seems to grasp his own power over you. You think he’s reminiscing about yesterday’s chaos and confidence; maybe even viewing it all from your point of view.

Because his smirk, albeit subtle, is sly when he asks, “What was it like?”

“I…” You click your tongue. “You’ll take me apart if I tell you.”

“Why so?”

“Because.” A beat of silence. You swallow to wet your throat. Then. “I’d ask you to.”

“Ah…” Another understanding nod, as though you’re lecturing him on NASA’s rocket science and he’s finally grasping its meaning. “Yeah?”

“I saw you from afar,” you point into a direction arbitrarily, as if he’s still several feet from you and not mere inches, “and I wanted to,” you inhale when a finger reaches out, straight to a vein in your neck, gentle, exploring, “let you do anything with me that you wanted to.”

“Ohh.” His palm covers your neck, as if he’s coddling you. But you know what that touch will morph into, so you sneak closer to him, lean forwards. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“…Right.”

His thumb moves up and rubs under your jaw, then up your face and to your lower lip. The touch is soft and careful, as though gauging your reaction and searching for permission.

Your shaky, little exhale is nearly unnoticeable, but you know he catches it, and you know he already sees the consent in your eyes. But he still doesn’t lean in. Moves his eyes across your face, to his hand, to your neck and then all the way back to your gaze.

And then, contrasting the loving movements and affectionate gesture, he smiles. Mischief spreads in his stare, and his fingers retreat to the back of your neck, pulling you closer by a miniscule inch.

“So that’s what it was all this time? You’re on your knees for me, is that it?”

“Babe…” You look down, daring a joke. “Quite literally.”

You shuffle in your spot when he laughs quietly, hooking your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. You emphasise, “I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”

You’re aware you’re acting as though he doesn’t wreck your shit every other time, too. In fact, that’s probably how the two of you started out.

His absolute craze at the frat party, drunk. College nights when you’d confront him about your bullshit — weak excuses to make him press you against his dorm walls. A hand clapped over your mouth, your ass out, dick buried inside until you felt him in your guts—

You’ve always been at his mercy — but you want him to split you in half this time.

“You would’ve?” he repeats. “And now? Still want that?”

You look down again. There’s no shyness in that movement, no averting his beastly eyes — your focus lies elsewhere because you have a theory. Which proves true.

The swelling under his joggers, right there between his legs wasn’t there before.

So you gather your voice, and say, “…Yes.”

“Hmm. Why didn’t you tell me?” His fingernails dig lightly into your skin, and right in the middle of the tension, he pouts for a little moment. “I genuinely thought you were still pissed.”

“I was on my period…” You shrug your shoulders. “It was also late. I was so tired, and—”

He waits.

“I knew that you’d do it if I asked for it.”

“I would’ve.” What’s worse? The confirmation or the tickling breath against your cheek? When did he get so close? “I still would. If you want me to.”

“I just said yes,” you tug at the shirt, eliciting an amused grin as the tips of your noses collide, “you’ll keep asking and,” your heart beats at a million miles a minute, “just not kiss me, is that it?”

Your provocation proves effective just the right amount.

Because he opens his mouth, seemingly snarling — you can’t tell for sure, since his lips clash against yours within half a moment. Determined as his hand immediately flashes to the small of your back, supporting you before you fall backwards on the carpet.

And then he kisses you like a man starved. Like he’s run out of saliva, dehydrated. Seeks your tongue, tastes like earthy Matcha Latte and something you can’t quite define — something that’s so uniquely him.

Your kiss muffles his tiny sound, a mixture of a sigh and a moan, body impatient as he tries to push closer to you, though separated by your clashing knees. You understand — you, too, would let him smother you under his weight if you could.

So you pull your folded legs apart, shifting until they surround him and attempting to straddle him. But he’s plotting something else: his fingers hold your jaw, keeping you in place, and the hot, wet kiss breaks when he pulls away.

You catch a brief glimpse of glistening lips before he moves to trail down your body, leaning in to teeth at your shirt, pushing it off your shoulder and kissing your skin for a fleeting second. And when the shirt shifts back into position, his other hand works on your tits.

Grabs your shirt at its hem, lifting it over your mounds until they’re free, nipples perked, home to him. In a haze, the tip of his tongue touches the right nub, and you shiver.

More so when he whispers, “Am so hard for you, I’ll fucking combust.”

For you.

You’ll repent for how badly you want him in your mouth.

You caress his thigh, sneaking up until you reach the swelling under the fabric. You feel it immediately, firm as a rock, big and fat, so sensitive that he hisses once you touch it.

“No,” he commands, the word barely a breath, “no, no. Don’t or I’ll come like this.”

He says it against your neck. Warm and tickling. You feel goosebumps arise, your reactions slow, but your heart fast. His fingers engulf your wrist, leading your palm to his cheek; you feel the smileless dimple under your thumb when he darts out his tongue to wet his lips.

Then, you close your eyes; the pecks against your neck are exhilarating. The moving touch, down to your tits and then back up to your jaw is one of his favourite games; you move your hips against the carpet, soaked panties sticking against your pussy.

“You’re…” you start, fingers in his fluffy hair as he bites your nipple. You moan, your words shaky, “You’re— more into this today.”

“I mean… after everything you just said to me?” He chuckles, moving up, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth brushes yours.

“And I missed her.” Free hand between your thighs, he taps just over your clit; your lips part. “Too crude to say I can’t wait for her to swallow my cock?”

Well. Fuck.

If it wasn’t him, you’d cringe. But it is him, and the truth is that you’re dying for him to press himself onto you. To wrap himself around you, to wrap yourself around him.

You want him to cut you in half, want to be his little toy until you can barely stand.

“Maybe,” you tell him, “but I promise that she wants it, too.”

That’s it, that’s it.

It’s when teeth meet again, the kiss messy, your arms around his neck. He holds you by your waist, pulling you off the floor a little, readjusting his position, so you can climb onto him.

You tilt your head as far as you can, taking him in, drooling, lips and tongue moving wildly to taste all of him. His digits wander from your back to your ass, pushing between your cheeks and pressing against your clenching hole.

The gesture is short lived, but enough for you to rub against him. The urge to rip your panties and part your folds over his girth is profuse; to dampen his length and empty his balls just like this.

But he clenches his jaw, groaning. Halts your movement with a strong grip before pulling at your hair without breaking the kiss. You move your fingers up and down his arm, and then dash it upwards to bury them in his locks, too.

Only, instead of reaching his mane, your hand hits the glass table on your left; you grunt into the kiss and then move away to exclaim, “Ah, fuck.”

Jungkook must’ve heard the sound because he catches on right away, laughing. Gently, he pushes you off his lap, gets back on his knees and then up. He pulls you with him as he says, “Alright. Get on the couch before you hurt yourself.”

“Couch?”

You’re surprised; not the bed this time, is it?

Then again — Jungkook isn’t necessarily picky when it comes to this; cue flashback to bathroom adventures.

So you still listen. Wobbly legs drag you to the sofa, plumping onto it as you watch him follow. The bulge is huge, hotter than hellfire when he palms it and lets go again.

“Too damn lazy to get to the bedroom,” he declares before dropping back on his knees.

You thought he’d climb over you, push you back across the length of the couch. But instead, he seems satisfied with your helpless position, pushing back the carpet and table some to take a seat right in front of you.

You admire his patience — the outline of his cock presses against its confines. Does it not hurt? His expression doesn’t reveal any discomfort as he adjusts against the hard floor; the carpet barely provides any relief.

But the discomfort doesn’t redirect his focus, his touch heading towards you, urging you to remove your joggers at turtle’s pace. He throws them over his shoulder and onto the table, one leg of them dangling off of it.

Left in your panties, you watch his hands curl under your knees, freeing his way to where you want to ache. Lifts your legs, places them on his shoulders carefully, amused and delighted when your bent limbs drag him closer to your cunt.

His tenacious tongue peeks between his teeth, and he fondles your thighs before he reaches the hem of your panties. They bug him — separate your heat from his mouth; in this moment, a crime to him.

“Help me here real quick,” he whispers, and you raise your ass, letting him drag the underwear off of you.

It sticks to your pussy for a second, obscenely flooded with your gradually building arousal. You think he sees, because he halts for a second, eyes flitting up to you before he says, “I think this’ll be fun.”

“You promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Well…

You shrug your shoulders, but smile tellingly, eliciting a smirk that decorates his gorgeous face, closing in bit by bit. The cool air evaporates the nearer he draws, replaced by his hot breath.

And then… just to test…

He darts out his tongue, the sharp tip of it tickling your clit. Your reaction, much desired, stirs a new type of appetite in him. Because your chin trembles just once, just for a moment. Lashes flutter, and his heart skips a beat.

As he inhales, but never exhales, you question, “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures, blowing against your sex, “just. So very pretty.”

You look down at him. His shoulders look broader from here. Muscular, hair dark and silky. His lips are colourful, handsome, nose ready to bury in your pelvis. If he thinks you’re pretty, then he’s the definition of true aesthetic.

Slowly, you reach for his hair, brushing through it before you bring his head closer to you, hinting at the obvious, and say, “And you.”

“Not like you, though…”

He waits, allowing the both of you a moment of preparation.

And then… he’s kissing your pussy. Lightly at first, up and down, a hand on your inner thigh that moves closer and closer to your folds.

He sighs once before a digit parts your nether lips sticking together, and then licks a stripe between them. You whine quietly; his eyes close. He’s beautiful like this; in a minute, he’ll look at you again, mouth swollen, and you’ll wish for his touch to last and last and last…

“Please,” you only whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Instead, his sweet kisses turn into something more. Way more wetness, way more tongue. And before you know it, he’s splitting your legs wider, pushing in to start devouring you.

Your moans are intoxicating. They’re sudden, but not surprising, voiced against the ceiling when your head falls back. The heels of your feet dig into his back, pushing him closer when his knees are already touching the couch.

The movements of his mouth are warm, a waterfall. He eats you out until he’s slurping, drenching you further. He’ll slide in effortlessly, you already know. Will bury every single inch of himself inside you, fill you up for the rest of the day.

And your high — it builds up embarrassingly fast. Perhaps because it’s been a while; or maybe because it’s Jeon Jungkook you’re dealing with. Either way, your lower stomach aches, the knot pressing against your guts.

“Kookie,” you murmur, yet again left without an answer.

He knows not to break his focus this time; knows that you’re close, recognises it in your grip around the patch of his hair. Hears it in your desperate whimpers, louder by the second. Words more unintelligible now.

Your thigh is twitching every now and then, quivering, and he takes it as a sign to keep sucking and swirling. Then flicks his wet muscle over your engorged clit, adding to your exclaims when his nimble fingers glide into you swiftly.

Too swiftly. Two of them are barely enough; and he adds a third. Your cheeks heat up, body sliding down — partly because you’re dying inside, partly because he’s pulling you towards him.

Jungkook knows how to navigate your body, how to direct you towards a rationality-breaking explosion. And he does. He does with the plethora of lustful licks, softly circling around your clit. His nose presses against it every time he shifts downwards, tasting you thoroughly.

“I’m almost—” you voice, and he hums, vibrations torture.

It’s a game to him that he’s skilled at; he understands his moves, and he never loses. Neither today as he clamps his hand onto your waist, fingers pumping in and out of you, curling and digging, massaging your favourite spot.

They turn and twist, two fingers of his free hand settling around your clit and raising it for better access.

It takes probably half a minute longer… and then… then…

Your voice grows in pitch, nearly illegal for a Sunday afternoon, but music to his ears. So genuine and sweet. Corners of your eyes glistening. He holds your legs apart as you start begging, but all he truly makes out is the eager repetition of his name.

He wishes your shirt didn’t cover your upper body; wishes he could see the heaving of your chest, the perked nipples, the sweat on your clavicles.

But for now, this is enough.

The way he sees waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes rolled back, not looking at him anymore. Your lips are dry, your tongue probably, too, and he wants to kiss it wet again.

You moan and wince and keen, body restless. The tug of his hair becomes more prominent and palpable, but the sensation makes him smile. You’re probably barely noticing, too.

That is, until your hold and breathing finally calm down. You keep riding the wave, your head turning in odd circle-ish shapes. He kisses your pussy, helping you through it, only stopping when you open your eyes.

“Well, that was…” he says, lips as swollen as you anticipated, shimmering, “a good start.”

“Every single time,” you begin, panting, shaking your head. You watch him as he gets on his feet, moving in to your mouth. “Every single time I think it can’t get better, and then I remember it’s just the fucking beginning.”

He shifts to you slowly, grazing your lips, and declares with a soft smile, “More to come, I promise. Gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Do your worst—”

One more kiss. Shorter this time, but you recognise the familiar, lingering taste immediately. Neutral, not too bad. Fills you with pride, because he never fails to guarantee that he loves it.

But you can’t wallow in it because he retreats quickly, impatient hands freeing his golden body from his clothes. The shirt falls somewhere next to the carpet, his own joggers soon discarded, landing on top of yours and sliding to the ground together.

He’s a menace when he climbs onto the couch, knees digging in and creating a shift on each side of your body. His bulge, still hidden behind his boxers, floats in front of your face; from this close, you see the droplet of precum darken a spot of the light purple cotton.

“Next stage?” he wonders above you, stroking your hair gently, as if he’s not about to explore the back of your throat. “Want or do I rather not?”

“What do you mean with not?” Your breathing is heavy as you lift your palm and engulf the imprint of his dick. He flinches, hips moving back a bit before they come back. “Get this shit off.”

He chuckles. Brings his hand to your cheek, thumb caressing it and voice clear when he says, “You’re so cute. Being demanding and all.”

But he still listens. Gets off the couch, slides his underwear off, leaves you gaping.

Gaping at the hooked and girthy tower. Gaping at how the slit on top of his head glimmers. Gaping at the moles along the stiff length, staring at the thick veins, at the full, firm balls.

“Tongue out,” he orders; you do.

The ink-free hand pushes his dick down to you, tapping it against your tongue as you open up wide. He feels heavy, hot, the skin smooth. Your head moves forward to swallow more, but he pulls back.

Strokes himself for a couple seconds, thumb spreading the precum over his head. You drool. Watch attentively, as though you’re learning — until he eventually guides it back to you and positions it into your still gaping mouth.

Enters it slowly. Slightly salty. Then says, “Breathe. And don’t overthink it too much.”

Huh.

Well. Damn.

Because…

At times, you do worry about your expressions; about your tears when you gag around him, the coughing fits you get in the middle of it all. So that’s a surprise. Attentive. 

But your mind is blank today anyway; so you nod, moving to lick the underside of the tip, and he laughs, mumbling, “Alright. Have it, babe.”

And you do.

Slowly at first, cautious as you twirl your tongue around him. You don’t notice much discomfort just yet, thankful that he’s easing you into this. A third of his length buried inside, you close your lips around him and hollow your cheeks.

Which is probably when the invisible threads holding him back finally break.

“Okay,” he says, “you got this.”

His knees move in, more inches intruding. His fingers drift to the back of your head, and you dig yours in his brawny thighs. He grows harder in your mouth, impossibly bigger the more you drag your lips along his member.

How gratifying. You’ve craved this for hours and days. What was your argument about again?

Your head drops further back when he shoves himself inside, more and more as time passes. You imitate his prior advances — hum and close your eyes. Bring a hand to the base of his cock, pumping all that you won’t be choking around.

When you gaze up at him to analyse his reactions, he leaves your mind vacant. Because his head is raised, like yours, jawline edged and acute. Mouth open until he meets your eyes.

You hope he’s seeing something just as lascivious and mind-numbing from his perspective. Maybe messy hair, laying against the softness of your shirt. Or a cock appearing out of and disappearing behind pretty lips.

Slowly blinking eyes that shut just as slowly again, and a tongue that falls out and licks along a vein whenever your head moves to the side. Allowing you a couple deep breaths.

He must be perceiving it all, too.

Because a moment later, he gnarls, like a wild animal, and states, “This won’t do—”

—Before putting both hands under your ears, holding your head and…

Ramming his cock into your mouth.

You gasp around him, taken aback and delighted at once. Feel the effect between your legs, hoping to not defile the couch too much.

Head still thrown back, falling further, you already feel the ache in the back of your neck. Your attempts of holding onto the couch prove futile because there is nothing to hold onto, armrests too far away; so you return to his thighs.

But he keeps your body steady, held at the spot between his legs. Your head is a different story: it bounces back and forth, the exhales through your nose frantic as he pounds into your throat before he slows down again.

“Good, gooood,” he drags out, observing the glistening veins as he draws back to his tip and then moves in again. “Doing very, very well. Looks so gorgeous, baby.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about — about you, his cock, the position. Everything? 

He keeps up the gentler pace, allowing you a break. Allowing himself the pleasure of this very image. Pretty lips surrounding a pretty dick.

And perhaps your desperate, little moans, accompanied by rapid blinking, set a fuse loose in his brain.

Because a moment later, Jungkook dares a step further — cock already stuffing your entire mouth, he pushes in more. The fat monstrosity reaches far, your gag reflex not as much at bay anymore as before.

The view seems to spur him on, though, and you can imagine why. If you were him, you’d probably enjoy the drooling mess under him, too. Salivating all over his dick, you feel the gross drop of your spit land on your clavicle, throat constricting as he thrusts in.

And just when you’re about to tap his thighs — very reluctantly, too — to catch your breath, he pulls back, fingers immediately digging into your cheeks to straighten your neck and head. You cough, eyes teary, your breathing quick and uncontrolled.

Like a toy, he moves your head to the left, to the right, a sly smirk playing around his lips until he moves down to you, back arched. Amidst your panting, he presses a brief kiss to your mouth, slippery against the dampness.

And then he says, as casually as he shouldn’t, “You’d look so beautiful in leashes.”

“…What?”

But he ignores your mumbled inquiry, instead thumbing at your lower lip. His dark eyes flit from one facial feature to another, pink lip caught between his teeth. The firm chest rises dangerously when he breathes in.

“Should I come in your mouth?” he asks as if you’d ever say no; as if you don’t know that he’s asking because he won’t. “Huh? Shoot it all the way down your throat?”

“Do it, fucking coward.”

…And just like that, he moves back.

tumblr is cruel and the 1k block limit in the new editor won't let me post the entire thing at once lol so here's the rest in a reblog!!! <3

[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff | JJK x GN!Reader What’s Your Name in Their Phone?

SUMMARY Headcanons of what your contact looks like

CONTENT Fluff, crack, overall just the jjk men being in love with you LOL

WORD COUNT: 501

Nanami Kento, Kamo Noritoshi

Your full name and maybe a cute professionalish photo of you or if you’re still just beginning your relationship then it’ll just be a blank photo. He’s very open to changing the contact name or picture once he realizes he can. He definitely adds a red heart next to your name if you ever mention to him how you put emojis beside his name in your phone, he just never thought about how he could put emojis into contact names since he only has professional contacts really. He likes that you’re the only contact with an emoji beside it though :)

Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Toji

Shortened form of your name or just your first name and no photo. He never includes people’s last names or a photo (his assistant probably manages communication for him instead) so don’t take it personally, he still adores you very much. He just doesn’t really care to spend his time doing that, but he might add a cute photo after you tease him about how his contacts make him look like a boomer and also because he does like the way your face looks (he’s whipped).

Kamo Choso, Fushiguro Megumi, Kong Shiu, Muta Kokichi

Shortened form of your name or a nickname and a photo of you he randomly took during a date. Maybe has a heart emoji beside your name and if you have a specific color you really like, he might make the heart that specific color. The photo he has as your contact picture is actually one you’ve probably never really seen, he just thought you looked pretty during a date and decided to use it but was obviously too shy to openly say that and show you it.

Geto Suguru, Itadori Yuji, Okkotsu Yuta, Haibara Yu

A nickname of yours and some cute emojis, contact photo is a cute picture he took of you secretly. He probably picks a few emojis that describe you well such as your favorite fruit, what animal he thinks you are, hearts that match the color of the other emojis, and/or silly emojis like 😳 or 🥰. Your contact photo is probably a photo of you sleeping on him that he secretly took. When you finally see it on his phone of course you jokingly yell at him and he just laughs at how adorable you are.

Gojo Satoru, Toge Inumaki, Takuma Ino

Something along the lines of “POOKIE BEAR” or “MY BABYYYY” with an absolutely HORRENDOUS 0.5 zoom photo of you. Your contact name is absolutely popping with emojis that he likes and emojis that match you or things you like. He thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that the stupid photo of you pops up full screen whenever you call him. Even if he’s in a meeting or in public, he will giggle when he sees the picture pop up. Of course he lets you take an equally as awful photo of him as payment, how could he say no to his pretty.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[thepersonperson]

Gege is doing to his characters what they did to jfk there's so much character assassination happening djsjdsnsdjn

This ask was sent to me shortly after I complained about JJK 269 leaks. (Aka before JJK 270's release so be nice to them.) And while I still agree that chapter contained character assassinations, JJK 270 has given me a good reason for them. 

Since my other post related to this topic was trimmed down by Tumblr’s 30 image limit, I’m going to use this ask as an excuse to this burning question...

Why does everyone feel so out of character in JJK 268–270?

Notes before we start.

1) Read the light novels. They are the equivalent of Bleach's CFYOW for JJK. There is a fan translation (Book 1 & Book 2), but I will be citing the official translation from my own copies.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans for the manga because of their accessibility. 

4) Written as of JJK 270.

5) Read the light novels.

(Another extremely 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Click pictures for captions/citations.)

Preface

This post is banking on the framework I set up in the previous related post so please read/skim over it. (If you don't? Just hear me out!)

Short Summary of the Previous Related Post:

Yuji is projecting a massive delusion onto Megumi that gives him a happy ending. JJK 268–270 is a mesh of Yuji and Megumi’s memories and dreams that serve to rationalize all that’s happened to them in a way that allows them to forgive themselves. Sukuna’s vessel memories are probably mixed in too.

Because of this I’m assuming the following:

>The battle recollection in JJK 269 is Yuji constructing explanations from his, Megumi, and Sukuna’s memories during their battle. Neither of these 3 ever knew the plan in full. This can explain why so much of the battle recollection is wrong.

>The characters we see outside of Yuji and Megumi are constructs based on their memories of these people. They’re more like representations than the actual characters.

I don’t know if it means they’re dead or not, but that doesn’t matter. I want to explore the way the characters feel off can be explained by them being memory constructs.

In the previous post, I used "Without love it cannot be seen." from Umineko to give my best faith reading of these past 3 chapters I've hated so much. This time the tool I'll be using is:

"Flipping over the chessboard."

This refers to how one should try to see things from a different perspective.

Memory in JJK

A neat touch that has always been around in JJK is characters remembering others as they last saw them. When Gojo recalls his best students, Hakari has a very different hair style from when we meet him. His recollection of Yuta's is accurate though. When Panda recalls Yuta, the hairstyle differs from what Gojo recalls. And when he recalls Kiara, he mistakenly refers to her as a guy.

This all can be explained by considering when Gojo and Panda last saw these characters. Gojo last saw Yuta in Kenya with Miguel where he changed his hairstyle. Panda hasn't seen Yuta since he's left the country. Neither Gojo or Panda have seen Hakari and Kiara for a very long time.

Their memories reflect how they last knew them. Kiara is a whole girl now and Hakari is blond. But if Panda and Gojo never saw them again? Those memories would be true to them, even if it’s no longer accurate.

And sometimes the memories aren’t accurate. See this side by side recollection of Gojo meeting Megumi from both of their perspectives.

I believe Gojo’s memory of this event is the accurate one because he’s 19 when it happens, not under distress when he recalls it, and has the Six Eyes which act like a supercomputer. Megumi’s memory is iffy because he’s 6 when it happens, has a head injury that knocks him out when he recalls this, and doesn’t have perception enhancing abilities. And though Megumi can’t recall the memory in its truest form, what he does remember still tells us a lot about his feelings towards the event and his relationship with Gojo.

The emotions child Megumi felt at the time distort what Gojo was actually like back then. Instead of a benefactor, he’s a suspicious weirdo with a funny face. The heart behind Gojo crouching down to his level, being way too honest with him, trying to give him options, patting him on the head—it’s all missing.

With all this in mind, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume Megumi and Yuji’s impressions of other characters via memory would influence how they appear in these delusions too. Yuji’s impressions probably take the most precedence since I think his will is shaping the delusions the most.

Recalling Incomplete Information 

Yuji is very good at understanding people. He can intuit their feelings and sync up with them easily. (I go over this in greater detail in this post.) But that doesn’t mean he fully understands their hearts. He gets close enough to their core to bond with them, but the little details aren’t quite right. 

If all the characters (save Megumi) we’ve been seeing in JJK 268–270 are constructs based on Yuji’s perception of them, I think this can explain everything off about them.

What made me consider this possibility was JJK 270. There’s this pattern I keep seeing... Characters’ motivations being misunderstood and being resolved by scenarios that aren’t quite right. Every time I try to explain what exactly is wrong with them, assuming their inconsistencies align with Yuji’s perception of them solves the problem.

Amai Rin

Rin is introduced as a coward. He’s unable to fight and goes along with the whims of those stronger than him to avoid getting hurt. This is why he keeps his head low as his friend is being harassed by bullies during his Jr. High days. Still, he tries to help. Just not at a risk to himself.

When Yuji saves his friend and beats all the bullies up, he turns to Rin and assumes he was part of the bully group. This simply isn’t true. He was a bystander. That’s why it’s weird for him to apologize like he was the one who beat the guy up.

Yuji’s false impression of Rin, one where he’s a bully that feels guilt over his actions, explains this. Rin’s actual guilt comes from him being a bystander—someone who doesn’t take action for others when something is wrong. He dealt with that in the Culling Games by helping Yuji and risking his life to save Angel. And he really stepped out of his comfort zone to join the medical team for the Sukuna battle. He might be the reason Yuta survived. (Yuji doesn’t know about that though.)

And what’s this? Here Yuji outright admits he doesn’t fully understand what kind of person Rin is. All he knows is that he did some good things and is trying to become a better person. So now we’ve got this other Rin that’s apologizing for something he didn’t do for the redemption he’s already earned.

(And that’s the pattern! Rin’s motivation is misunderstood by Yuji so he’s doing something that seems out of character to us readers, but is perfectly in character for Yuji’s perception of him. When I apply it to everyone else. Everything makes sense.)

Takaba Fumihiko

What Yuji knows about Takaba is pre-Kenjaku development. Yuji knows the Takaba that speaks over others, rejects their criticisms, and insists he’s funny. That’s kind of what he’s doing to Totally Not Kenjaku. In reality, Kenjaku caused Takaba to reflect on his approach to comedy and they are nearly in perfect sync by the end of it. Kenjaku satisfied Takaba.

Yuji didn’t see that battle and he hasn’t spoken to Takaba since. So he’s constructed a happy ending where Takaba has found his partner and is working towards the show of his dreams that already happened.

I also want to note that Takaba is 100% ok with sex jokes. Kenjaku makes one and he doesn’t object to it. This is just another little detail that makes everything so slightly off.

Higuruma Hiromi

Yuji knows that Higurama wants to go back to his roots. He knows that he feels guilt over killing people.

What he doesn’t know is that Higurama’s roots are him being a defense lawyer that cherishes the flaws of humanity. He doesn't want to ever look away from the impurities that even Yuji has. That’s why I think Yuji resolves his problems with him becoming a sorcerer who saves lives.

Yuji seems to think that Higuruma is like him. He’ll make up for the lives he’s taken via sorcery by saving more. That’s something he could assume from their convo, but that’s not actually what Higuruma wants. He wants to fundamentally change Japan’s legal system for the better in his own way.

Kurusu Hana

She’s the most in character of the bunch. In fact, there’s nothing out of character about her interaction with Megumi. What she represents is Yuji misunderstanding Megumi’s desires.

Yuji understands that Megumi’s type is someone with an unwavering humanity (literally the definition of Yuji’s name) via access to his memories. But for some reason (he’s kind of dumb academically), he thinks this means Hana is perfect for him. 

I think this is because Hana meets Yuji’s definition of a good person. She’s just like Megumi. She saves others for a selfish purpose. And that means…Hana does not meet Megumi’s definition of a good person. Not once has he considered her saving others as selfless. (...But Yuji has.)

And that’s just facts. Hana is kind of unhinged. She’s extremely possessive of Megumi and saves others solely to win him over. Yuji saves others because it’s the right thing to do.

Megumi’s preferences are Yuji, not Hana. Which has led to the most awkward confession and rejection scene. That might have clued Yuji in to construct an alternative. In the memory Yuji is probably recalling, Todo does clock Megumi as someone into dudes.  …The very next scene is Yuji hitting on a dude in front of his gf in a way that causes him to blush. (Yuji has not once complimented someone’s body up to this point if I recall correctly. And he’s been around some beefy dudes.)

(Yeah Nobara me too. Second most leftfield possible bisexual confirmation I’ve read in a manga. The first will always be from Baki the Grappler.)

Is this Yuji letting Megumi know it’s ok to come onto him? Is he not initiating because Hana’s forwardness freaked Megumi out? It’s possible. 

What this suggests is that Yuji is kind of fine tuning this whole delusion to make Megumi as content as possible. It’s telling that the moment Megumi starts getting super uncomfortable the scene jumps to something else.

It happens at the beginning of the chapter too. Gojo is mentioned by Shoko in a way that causes Megumi to pause. And Bam! Change scene.

Anyways, I hope this demonstrates that Yuji working with the limited information from memories is most likely the reason for everything being so funky. It’s character assassination by accident.

Why make these happy endings when this is all for Megumi?

Two reasons as to why I think Yuji is trying to give everyone a plausible happy ending.

1) He genuinely wants them to live good lives.

2) It has to be believable for Megumi to accept them as real and forgive himself.

This line may have been about Yuji, but Megumi’s not any different. He blames himself in the exact same way Yuji blames himself.

I also think there's something to be said about Yuji crafting a dream that resembles the perfect cookie cutter Shonen ending. The guy gets with girl he has no chemistry with. All these complicated plot lines are wrapped up with a neat little bow. Everyone lives and goes on like nothing traumatic happened.

Yuji is a big fan of Shonen. Straight up his final move against Sukuna is a Hunter X Hunter reference. That's not just Gege doing a reference as a fan, Yuji himself is a fan of that manga.

I think Yuji is trying to make this fiction a reality because it's the only way he knows how to cope with his trauma.

JJK 269’s Character “Assassinations”

I promise I still hate this chapter. But I won’t deny how fun it is to pretend these are all delusions Yuji created for Megumi’s sake. I went over Kusakabe to cut him some slack in the previous post, so let’s do everyone else.

(The chapter’s formatting as one long unending nightmare makes it hard to separate this stuff out by the character. I’m just going to do groups this time.)

The 2nd Years

The most common complaint from readers outside of Kusakabe telling Yuji he should’ve died is Maki being really fudging mean to Yuta. Maki is mean, but she’s not that mean. You could assume this is her showing Yuta she cares and that her anger scales with worry but… Here’s a side by side comparison of her getting angry over Yuta risking his life in Vol 0 vs JJK 269.

Pretty big difference I think. Here is a Maki with a Yuta she thinks is about to die vs a Maki with a Yuta who is 100% ok. And the only reason she even gets mad in Vol 0 is because she had no idea Yuta did something that risky. Maki already knew Yuta was going to body hop if all else failed, so her reaction here is disproportionate, especially since he survived.

Speaking of survival, the first thing Maki, Panda, and Inumaki do when Yuta survives in Vol 0 is ask if he’s ok and thank him for saving them. This doesn’t happen in JJK 269. They're all very protective of Yuta after the events of Vol 0. We see them defend him from Gojo for being a little mean about his training. They’re all against the plan because of how much they value him. The 3 of them not checking in on Yuta immediately after the fact is wildly OOC.

The explanation I have? This version of Maki is based on Yuji and Megumi’s memories of her. (And let’s remember that Megumi claims he can’t openly respect her and the other 2nd years outside of Yuta.) When Megumi and Nobara mourn Yuji’s “death”, Maki does this to them.

Maki also intimidated Yuji pretty bad when they first met. Her, Panda, and Inumaki went along with bullying Yuji after he came back to life. It makes sense that Yuji would up Maki’s meanness. He’s not been around her long enough to know she’s not like this when it comes to people she cares about. 

I do think it is weird Maki is pre-awakening levels of mean. This could also be Yuji trying to return to the time before everything went to absolute hell. Or...because she’s Yuji’s construct, this could be him expressing his anger at Yuta for defiling Gojo’s body in a very roundabout way. From both Yuji and Megumi’s perspective, Yuta didn’t discuss this beforehand and used it as a last second plan. And that’s kind of how the conversation goes. Everyone talks about Yuta’s Yujo plan like he didn’t clear it with them first.

It’s also telling that they harp on Yuta over Miguel and Larue. Miguel said no help unless Sukuna’s domain was down. Everyone except Yuji knew that. There was never a scenario where they’d help from the start. But to Yuji who only heard they might show up? It’s a missed opportunity.

Say if you were, trying to find a reason for such a horrific defiling of a loved one’s body. Wouldn’t you try to reconstruct the crime by considering the motives and methods? That would help give you some closure, right?

I think that’s what Yuji is doing for himself and Megumi. Yuji is trying to figure out why things went the way they did through a blend of what Sukuna intuited and what makes the most sense to someone who never had full knowledge of the plan. 

And if you think about it, this is still a happy ending for them. They’re all absolved of their guilt surrounding the outcome of the battle. Even if they screwed up, they’re all still alive and able to move forward in a better world. They did the best they could, so it’s time to move on from what happened to Gojo. Thinking about that too much would break someone.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui

Mei Mei is out of character in a way that’s unique compared to everyone else. She’s still herself, but with less…yikes. It’s odd since Yuji has seen how awful Mei Mei can be and is deeply uncomfortable with how she treats Ui Ui. He’s not missing information about her motives so why have we gone from this to this?

I propose this is an extension of Yuji’s denialism. (We’ve seen how avoidant he is with Gojo’s death.) Mei Mei is grooming Ui Ui and has made it clear this is all for money. Ui Ui is being abused, but he’s so attached to his abuser that separation would break him. How do you make a happy ending out of that?

Well, you can soften those edges. Spin a tale where Mei Mei is an over-doting sister who would kill for her cute little brother. She doesn’t touch him inappropriately, she just plays with him. She loves money as much as him! No abuse here! She’s not someone who would kill a child for cash.

And in a weird way this whole Simple Domain debacle mirrors Gojo killing the higher ups. If Maki is Yuji's rage towards the Yujo plan, then this could be him trying to process his mentor slaughtering a bunch of old people in mass for his sake.

It probably helps that Yuji wasn’t there to see Mei Mei tell Ui Ui to die for her. There’s no way he knows she was paid to help kill him either.

Mei Mei doesn’t care about the well-being of other people. She’s just a hardcore capitalist who loves money and will do anything for it. But this version of her can be less terrible to Ui Ui while still getting her cash and that’s sort of ok I guess? Yuji has moved on from this and so will I.

The Megumi & Nobara Problem

The 1st years going on like nothing happened after Sukuna has made readers feel betrayed. It flies in the face of everything that’s been established for them when it comes to mourning.

As stated in CFYOW, JJK Thorny Road at Dawn, Chapter 5: At the End of a Sidewalk, this is how the trio deals with grief.

Despite knowing Yuji for only 2 weeks his death screws with Megumi and Nobara pretty badly. In the manga, it looks like Nobara is more upset because she’s visibly in pain, but I think the light novels show they’re equally shaken. 

This is why the non-reaction to Gojo’s death makes no sense. Megumi has known Gojo for a decade. He’s 6 when he first meets him and 16 when he dies because Sukuna used his Cursed Technique (CT). Nobara knew Yuji for 2 weeks, and didn’t see him for another 3 months. In all that time, Gojo was her teacher. She knew him longer than Yuji. When she “dies” Gojo is on the same tier as Yuji and Megumi to her.

So why is it that in JJK 268, Nobara thinks of Gojo as a creep? Why did she toss his letter despite him being one of the people she thought of in death? 

Well… When Yuji came back from the dead via Gojo’s prank he heard Nobara say this.

Nobara is prone to saying out of pocket nonsense to people. If she thinks it, she says it. Yuji also doesn’t understand Nobara’s thought processes (Just like Amai Rin he admits it too!). Nobara tries to hide her feelings to appear tougher than she is sometimes. So I think Yuji has done to Nobara what he has done to Maki—upped the meanness and neglected the heart.

And though Nobara being a construct can explain her behavior, this still leaves us with Megumi who is definitely not one. Why is he acting like Gojo meant nothing to him?

Megumi in particular is super fragile when it comes to his feelings. This is how stressed he gets when he learns exactly why Tsumiki is in a coma.

She’s not even dead and he’s halfway to a mental breakdown. The idea that he can just look at her grave once after having a hand in her murder and move on this quickly makes no sense. Inadvertently killing his defacto guardian he’s been raised by for 10 years should be upsetting him to a similar degree. (Maki said Gojo treated him like a precious treasure!)

When Megumi is on the verge of death he thinks of Tsumiki, Yuji, and or Gojo. It’s always at least 1 of those 3. There’s no way Gojo dying and having his corpse reanimated for reasons Megumi might feel responsible for isn’t screwing him up.

Unless…Yuji is suppressing his memory on purpose. He can’t even cope with what happened to Gojo, how is Megumi supposed to? How can either of them forgive themselves for that if they acknowledge it in full?

When Sukuna tries to tell Megumi to give up, he looks miserable. Every time Sukuna has verbally kicked Yuji while he’s down, he’s done it with a big old smile and laugh. He doesn’t hold back and goes for the throat.

Sukuna is being very nice to Megumi here when he doesn’t mention Gojo at all. The only death he blames on Megumi is Tsumiki. Everyone else? Nothing. That’s weird given that Sukuna will pass the blame of his kills onto Yuji to torment him.

Is this Sukuna a construct or is he playing nice because he respects Megumi? Who knows. Whatever happened here seems to point to Gojo’s memory being suppressed for Megumi’s sake. 

And why might Megumi accept this suppression? Why does he seem to be going along with Yuji’s delusions? The Unlimited Void brain fog. Megumi brings attention to it after he wakes up. 

If Sukuna can’t think straight after Gojo brain damage, neither is Megumi. Still Yuji has to be careful. If Megumi thinks too much, the illusion will be broken. 

What does this mean for them?

Well, the character assassination isn’t real (probably) which is a good thing! Other than that? Not a clue. We’ve got a real catbox situation here. I can’t tell who is dead anymore.

Sukuna projects delusions when someone he’s connected with is dying. Yuji projects delusions someone connects with him while he’s severely injured/concussed. Both of them are kind towards the people they’re interacting with in this space between dreams and reality. They try to give people endings that leave them satisfied.

JJK 270 ends with the hunt for a curse user who can distort perceptions of reality. This curse user is initially mistaken as a cursed spirit. That sounds like Sukuna I think.

I’m pretty confident this happy ending illusion will be shattered, that's for sure.

My Final Answer

I'm betting it all on this being a delusion. This is a kind of prediction that will either age well, very badly, or interestingly. I don't know what's in store for the final chapter...but I do have some ideas I'd like to speculate with.

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This time I'm going to use this phrase very literally. I'm going to make one final gamble on the assumption that love is the answer. So let's go back to Love itself—one of those reoccurring themes in JJK.

Love is a curse in JJK. It has the power to distort reality and transform loved ones horribly. Desperation to save a loved one from death over and over has resulted in extremely traumatic things. Yuta turned his childhood crush into monster that caused havoc for years. You can blame everything that has happened in JJK on Gojo being unable to get over the loss of his loved one, Geto.

Hana could've vanquished Sukuna on the spot, but she didn't because she loves Megumi. It's something a lot of people blame her for. If she had just killed him there, the Sukuna battle wouldn't have happened. But that's not really the truth. The only reason Sukuna even got his powerful is because Megumi refused to let Yuji die.

Megumi and Yuji going back and forth trying to save each other have been acts of love driving the plot of JJK since the beginning of this manga. If Megumi actually died on Yuji? Who knows what would happen.

...

A lot of readers have been on a very funny copium because of these last 3 chapters. Some of them joke that they are just one massive Takaba-induced hallucination. This theory has some merit to it! After all, his CT does two things:

1) It distorts reality.

2) By sheer force of will it bends people's souls to his whims.

One of the biggest complaints about the past 3 chapters has been the Merger plot ending abruptly. As of JJK 270 Tengen and Sukuna's remains have been mixed into the barrier around Japan and everything is just fine according to Gakuganji.

People wanted to see what the Merger would do, just like Kenjaku. In universe, Tengen made a prediction. They guessed that the impurity from humans would dominate and consume everything. The impurity that Higuruma wants to protect. The impurity that Higuruma sees in Yuji.

Would Sukuna activate the merger and kill Megumi to spite Yuji? Absolutely.

Would Yuji do or become anything to save Megumi's life? Absolutely.

Do whatever you want with this information.

[back2bluesidex]

To Be Popular - JJK (18+) [Prologue Preview]

↪ Patreon Membership Exclusive Series

↪ Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

↪ Summary: You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook.

But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything.

is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected?  

↪ Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

↪ A/N: This series will have 2k words per chapter and will be updated weekly. Hence, you can expect the first chapter sometime next week. Hope that you enjoy this one <3

Read full prologue on Patreon

Your jaw hangs ajar, threatening to touch the floor as Min Yoongi, aka the manager you have a fat crush on, presents the campaign plan of your company’s new product’s marketing. Everything was fine until Yoongi suggested influencer endorsement and if this is not a joke of the universe then you don’t know what it is because you can see Jeon Jungkook’s picture gracing the screen.   

“Jeon Jungkook? Why?” you utter these words without so much of a thought. 

Yoongi looks at you with his narrowed eyes, “why not? You know, he is really famous. He is trending currently.” 

“Yeah but the reason he is trending- well. I don’t think he is suitable for our brand image.” you press on. 

Yoongi chuckles at your constipated expression, “Y/N-ah” he calls you softly and a tiny part of your heart melts, “I am sure our brand image can go up with a few charitable works here and there. But the company wants a return of what they are investing in marketing. I bet signing up Jeon Jungkook will help.” 

“Y/N, you know we are already at a tight spot right? Our last campaign wasn’t as successful as we expected. The company may take steps if we don’t do this right this time.” calls Mrs. Lee from the other side of the table. 

“And before you ask me why him, why not the other influencers…” Yoongi chimes in again, “We are selling gaming laptops and this guy is addicted to games. He has more followers than the actual streamers. He is young, hot, and talented in many areas. In one word, he is perfect.” 

“You awfully sound like you want to date him.” You scoff at the man. He only chuckles. 

Yoongi tries to say something but a knock rings on the door. One of the staff opens the door only a little and says, “Sir, he is here.” 

Yoongi nods and says, “send him inside.” 

“Who is coming?” you place the question. Only for Yoongi to smirk as a response. 

When you are about to press more, the door swings open revealing the man who-should-not-be-named, Jeon Jungkook. 

Your eyes go wide as you take him in - all baggy clothes and a cute bucket hat perched on the top of his head. Bambi eyes scanning the room like a puppy brought to his very new home. As if he is not the guy who is going viral for fucking on camera and selling it to an adult site. 

He bows deeply and opens his mouth to greet, “Hello, I am Jeon Jungkook.” 

You feel your blood pressure raising at the thought of working with him. You will survive it right? 

You will have to. 

Read full prologue on Patreon

[asdfghjklmals]

THE HONORED ONE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and comfort. mentions of blood and injury. WORD COUNT: 4.1k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. high school lovers.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend thought that satoru gojo's infinity was impenetrable... oc gojo girlfriend tries her best to heal satoru after a grueling fight, but will her best be enough? AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic follows 'fated to love you' click here to read. i cut toji and satoru's fight scenes pretty short beause i really don't do well writing fight scenes. would it really be a mals angst without ending on a somewhat good note? literally oc gojo girlfriend's au is me inputting her into the actual jjk manga where i can. 😂 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

tokyo jujutsu high school: oc gojo girlfriend's pov

“have you heard from idiot #1 and idiot #2?” shoko asked as you twiddled with your pencil. you were spending the afternoon studying with your bestfriend while satoru and suguru were on a mission.

you frowned, realizing that you actually haven't heard from satoru since he left. all he sent you was a good morning text saying that he made coffee for you in the dining hall before he left for his mission.

“no… yaga-sensei sent them off on a really important mission regarding the star plasma vessel for master tengen, but that’s all i know about it.”

“the last i heard from satoru was that they were going to okinawa to kill time. why don’t we try calling them?” shoko suggested.

you smiled back at her, "it’s okay, i’ll call satoru later. i try not to bug him while he’s on missions."

deep down, you really just wanted to know if he was okay. suguru had mentioned to you earlier this morning that satoru hadn’t slept yet. he had kept his infinity on ever since they left and it hasn’t been turned off. he was probably exhausted.

okinawa aquarium: satoru's pov

“are you going to get a souvenir for (y/n)? you know she loves aquariums.” suguru reminded satoru as they watched riko gaze at the large tank full of exotic fish.

“i already did. it was the first thing i did when i got here.” satoru smiled softly. it was the one thing he was actually looking forward to doing during this mission instead of babysitting a middle schooler.

“what did you get her?” suguru asked curiously.

satoru smiled cheekily, “i got her a small glass full of sand and seashells from the gift shop.”

suguru started to laugh at the mention of the bottle of sand, “you’re not going to put a love note in there again are you?”

“for the millionth time, it wasn’t a love note!” satoru defended himself. (read ‘souvenirs’ here)

"hey! bangs!" riko called out to suguru, "can we go to the reptile exhibit?!"

suguru closed his eyes and sighed heavily, "i wish she wouldn't call me that."

satoru patted suguru on the back and laughed. he was glad that suguru was here with him on this mission.

later that night: oc gojo girlfriend's pov

after a long day of studying, you laid in satoru’s bed. whenever he was gone for an overnight mission, you would sleep in his dorm room.

it totally wasn’t because you missed him immensely when he’s gone, but because you looked forward to how he would always greet you in the morning by plopping down on top of you and hugging you so tightly to the point you couldn't breathe. and not to mention, he never failed to pepper kisses on your forehead in the mornings. it was a very wholesome way to be woken up.

‘i wonder what he’s doing right now’, you thought to yourself. hesitating to press the call button on your flip phone. you laid there, flipping your phone shut, opening it back up, and flipping it shut again.

“i’ll just call him to say goodnight…” you mumbled, dialing satoru’s phone number. he answered immediately after the first ring.

“are you okay?” you heard him ask you. he sounded worried but tired, you could hear it in his voice.

“wow, not even a ‘hi sweetheart’ to your girlfriend? i should be asking you that mr. no-sleep-and-infinity-always-on.”

satoru sighed, “suguru told you, huh? he’s such a snitch.”

"he's not a snitch." you muttered, "he cares about you, just like i do. why don’t you get some sleep, babe?"

“i have to stay up to protect everyone, sweetheart.”

you bit back, “someone else can be on star plasma vessel protection duty while you sleep.”

satoru laughed at your statement, “who’s gonna protect me when i’m the strongest?”

“i will.” you said confidently, “—or suguru will. he promised me he would take care of you for me.”

“oh, my sweet little girlfriend is going to come all the way to okinawa to protect me?” he teased.

you grumbled, and rolled over onto your stomach. “you know i would if you wanted me to…”

satoru was quiet for a moment. you could hear his breathing through the receiver before he let out another loud sigh. “it’s late, sweetheart. you should get some sleep. we’ll be back tomorrow at 3pm.”

“promise me you’ll rest when you come home?”

“yes, i promise. maybe i’ll nap in your room.” satoru said.

you giggled because you knew he would end up sleeping in your room. that was a given after every mission. it was a hot shower first, then cuddles later. that was satoru's post mission routine.

“goodnight, satoru. i love you.”

“i love you too, (y/n).”

the next day: tokyo jujutsu high 3pm

you felt satoru’s presence enter the jujutsu high barrier. you sighed in relief. there was no way you couldn't detect his cursed energy because it was so strong, and his residuals felt like they were a part of you. you could sense that guy anywhere.

you called out to shoko, “shoko! i’m going to head out to the gates to see satoru and suguru.”

“okay, i’ll catch up with you guys later!” she waved as you left the classroom.

you walked slowly, appreciating the warm spring air and the smell of fresh cut grass. while you were on the way to the courtyard, you heard loud demolition sounds almost as if a building was being torn to pieces. heavy gusts of wind started to pick up, quickly.

you sensed a very familiar cursed energy, it was satoru’s cursed technique lapse: blue… but it was maximum output. you jumped up onto the roofs of the jujutsu high buildings, dashing towards the courtyard's front gates.

‘what the hell is happening? why is he using maximum output here?’, you thought as you sprinted and jumped from building to building. you had a horizontal view of the school, debris was floating in the air. as you were running, you saw suguru running the opposite way towards master tengen’s location. he was with two girls. ‘was that the star plasma vessel?’

“(y/n)!” suguru called out to you, “don’t get any closer to satoru! the opponent he’s facing is dangerous! he doesn’t have any cursed energy! he has a heavenly pact! you won’t be able to sense him!”

“—but i can help satoru!” you yelled back.

“trust me, satoru wouldn’t want you to get hurt. just stay hidden.”

you pursed your lips in hesitation. you wanted to help satoru, but you knew suguru wouldn’t have warned you if he didn’t think the situation was dangerous. and you would probably get in satoru’s way… you were always satoru’s achilles’ heel.

satoru gojo fought at his very best when he was alone. he could go all out and not have to worry about anyone getting caught in his techniques or in his domain expansion. any other sorcerer next to him would be a hindrance to him, even you.

“fine, i’ll stay hidden.” you called out to him, “—hurry and get to master tengen.”

you watched as suguru nodded back at you. he and the two girls started running again. you picked up the pace to get closer to where satoru was, until you saw a swarm of fly heads circling around the center of the courtyard. ‘where did those fly heads come from…?’

you stopped running. it was at that moment where your heart dropped. you couldn’t sense satoru’s cursed energy anymore.

you didn’t know whether or not the threat was still present or if satoru was masking his cursed energy using some sort of barrier technique.

there was no way something happened to him... right?

he was untouchable with infinity… right?

he was the strongest… right?

you jumped down onto the cobblestone pathway and hid behind one of the buildings several meters away. a man with dark hair in a black shirt, white pants, and a scar on his face started walking towards suguru's location.

you looked over to where the fly heads were. you quickly put your hands over your mouth to stop from screaming out satoru's name.

satoru’s body was sprawled on the concrete, blood and debris pooled around him. you summoned a protective barrier of water around satoru and sent a large pressured tidal wave towards all the fly heads, exorcising all of them at once.

“satoru!!!” you screamed, “—satoru, oh my god…”

you ran to his side, throwing ice shards at the remaining fly heads crawling all over his body. he had stab wounds on his head, his neck, multiple gashes on his right thigh, and a large slash through his chest all the way down to and through his abdomen.

a small ripple of cursed energy from his hand danced across his pool of blood. was that the last of satoru’s cursed energy? how could this happen to the untouchable satoru gojo? never in your life would you believe satoru could be defeated like this. there was just no way. he was the strongest.

"babe, please wake up!" you screamed as you shakily lifted his lifeless body onto your lap. you had to get it together if you wanted to heal him your with reversed cursed energy… and you had to do it fast. you focused all of your reversed cursed energy onto his largest wound, his chest. water left your hand to surround his wound, but it didn’t heal him at all. you wished your reversed cursed technique was more refined at this moment. you had been working so hard with shoko to master this healing technique of yours...

“damn it!” you screamed in frustration, tears streaming down your face. your vision was blurred by all the tears. you were so distraught that you couldn’t even focus. were you really so weak that you couldn’t even focus to heal the person you loved most?

you tried it again. water surrounded his wound, but stayed stagnant. you started to break down. catching your sobbing breaths, you hiccuped as you held satoru’s body in your arms. his blood drenched your uniform, but you didn’t care. you were about to lose the love of your life and you couldn't do anything about it. you cradled his head, moving his stray hairs out of his face. if this was the last time he would be in your arms, then so be it.

“please, just let me heal him…” you cried to yourself, begging to all the gods you could, with a small sliver of hope that you could maintain control of your cursed energy for even just a second to heal him.

as you held him, you noticed that satoru’s wounds were starting to slowly heal… but it wasn’t from your reversed cursed technique.

you closed your eyes, thanking all gods above for whatever it was that was healing him.

“satoru… please come back to me. you promised you wouldn’t leave me here alone… you promised to protect me.” you sobbed as you held him closer to you. your tears drenching his cheek.

“wow, (y/n) (l/n) crying over silly ol’ me?” a weak and quiet voice said in awe, “—i never thought i’d live to see the day.”

you wiped your tears with your sleeve. you couldn’t believe what you were seeing… or hearing. satoru gave you a meek smile.

“how are you even talking to me right now?” you scoffed as you continued to cry. “you are literally dead in my arms.”

satoru groaned, “reversed cursed technique, babe.”

“but i thought you didn’t know how to do that yet…”

you held him tighter. refusing to let go of him in fear that he’d disappear from your arms. this must be your imagination. you probably went insane after satoru died. and now you were starting to see and hear things.

as much as satoru would have loved to stay in your embrace forever, he sat up and pushed your arms away from him, “that’s another conversation for later. i have to take care of something.”

you snapped out of it and panicked when he tried to leave your side, “no! don’t go! i don't want to lose you again…” you clung onto his arm, shaking your head to wake you up from this nightmare. you knew he was going to go back and try to dispose of the man who did this to him. the man you saw earlier.

“you’re not going to lose me.” satoru reassured you. “—i’m the strongest, remember?”

tears streamed down your cheek as you sobbed. it was satoru’s turn to comfort you now. he held your frantically shaking body, using his thumb to brush away tears from your cheek.

“i’ll come back to you.” satoru said confidently, “(y/n), i promise that i’m going to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. i told you that i was going to protect you. i love you, you know that?”

you tried to catch your breath through your sobbing, “y-you pinky promise?”

“i pinky promise.” satoru said as he intertwined your pinkies before pressing a kiss on your quivering lips. “i have to go. can't have the man who made my baby cry roam free, can i now?”

he teleported off before he could hear you weakly say, “i love you, satoru…”

satoru gojo vs. toji fushiguro round 2

enlightenment. the action or state of attaining knowledge or insight.

satoru. a masculine japanese name meaning ‘to know’ or ‘to understand’. if you write satoru’s name in a different way, it could mean ‘to be spiritually awakened’.

and in that moment, on the verge of death, satoru gojo had finally understood the core of cursed energy.

he felt the positive cursed energy from his reversed cursed technique flow into limitless.

cursed technique reversal: red.

it was the first time that satoru had successfully unleashed red. and it was right into the man who spiritually awakened him, toji fushiguro.

“heh, what a monster.” toji muttered as he got up from the rubbish and debris around him after being hit by satoru's cursed technique.

‘sorry, amanai…’ satoru thought to himself, ‘i’m not angry about your death anymore, nor do i feel any resentment towards anyone. right now, everything just feels right.’

“throughout heaven and earth, i alone am the honored one.”

satoru swiftly dodged all of toji’s attempted attacks with the inverted spear of heaven as the sorcerer killer kept his strikes coming.

toji was from the zen'nin clan. growing up, he was taught about the gojo clan's techniques such as limitless, blue, and red. but the cursed technique that satoru was about to attempt for the first time, was only known to a select few people of the gojo clan. (read ‘meet the gojos’ here)

motion and reversal. positive and negative. born by combining both infinities of blue and red. a powerful, imaginary mass that rushes forward, obliterating all matter in it's path… one of the strongest techniques in the gojo clan.

hollow purple.

"so, any last words?" satoru asked the sorcerer killer as he bled from his torso. an entire chunk of his body and arm was gone from the hit from hollow purple.

"nope... in two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the zen'nin clan. do what you will with that information." toji told the white haired sorcerer as he fell to the ground.

inside the star plasma vessel association hideout

"you're late, suguru." satoru called out to his bestfriend without any emotion in his voice. his tone was flat. it was like he was lifeless, yet he was still alive.

"satoru?! what happened to you?" suguru asked, surprised to see satoru standing in front of him with riko’s dead body in his arms.

satoru ignored him, noticing that suguru was healed up. he sensed yours and shoko’s residuals. "looks like you saw (y/n) and shoko."

"yeah, they fixed me up." suguru started to say, he saw riko's hand fall from her deceased body. "actually... it doesn't matter if i'm fine. i—"

satoru interrupted him, "it's not your fault, suguru. i'm the one that messed up and let my guard down."

suguru took a moment to read the room before he waved towards satoru, "let's get out of here."

"suguru... do you... want to… kill them all...?" satoru asked his bestfriend coldly, referring to all the people applauding the death of the star plasma vessel, "—the me right now probably wouldn't even feel a thing if we killed them."

suguru knew that nothing good would happen if he were to kill all of these people who had different ideals than him and satoru. he shut his eyes and sighed, "forget it. it's pointless and pointless killing is futile. plus, what would (y/n) think of you?"

satoru stayed quiet for a moment before scoffing. "pointless, huh? does there need to be a reason to kill these people?"

"of course. it's important to have a reason. especially as jujutsu sorcerers. jujutsu sorcerers exists to protect non-jujutsu sorcerers."

suguru geto was and always will be satoru gojo's moral compass. adding onto his morality, an image of you appeared in satoru's newly enlightened mind.

'what would (y/n) think of me if she could see me right now?' satoru thought to himself. he had to be better than this, he knew he was better than this. you always saw the good in satoru, he couldn't disappoint you today, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

"okay then, let's go home." satoru motioned. he paused after a thought, “actually, you head back with amanai first. there’s something i need to do.”

suguru took riko’s body from him as he watched satoru teleport off.

before returning to jujutsu high, satoru gojo went to dispose of the inverted spear of heaven. he didn't give a damn about the history of this tool and where it came from. there was no way a cursed tool that could nullify his cursed technique was going to stay on this earth. there was no way he was going to take his chances of dying again. and there was no way he was going to let that cursed tool exist given the possibility of losing you.

later that night

after a very long and hot shower, satoru laid in your bed, absentmindedly staring at the popcorn ceiling above. his fingers subconsciously rubbing soft circles into your lower back. it was a habit of his that he picked up ever since he started sleeping in your dorm room.

you couldn’t help but think about how you weren’t able to help satoru earlier today when he was bleeding out in your arms. were you really that weak and not in control of your own powers? you hated yourself for not being able to get your cursed energy under control. you couldn’t even save the one person you loved most in this god forsaken world. you couldn’t imagine your life without satoru and you almost lost him... and you couldn’t do a damn thing.

you felt satoru’s arm dive under your torso, pulling you closer to him. you closed your eyes and pursed your lips, afraid you might start crying in front of him. you didn’t have the heart to face him.

“what’s on your mind?” he asked, peppering soft kisses on your temple.

you scoffed in disbelief, “i should be asking you that. you’re the one that almost died. what happened to you, satoru? who that hell was that man?”

“i got caught slipping,” satoru sighed, “remember that tool that went missing when we went to visit your family?”

you remembered the uproar it caused when you went back with satoru to visit your clan. the inverted spear of heaven was stolen from your clan’s collection of cursed objects that day. that tool came from the last known water cursed technique user from your clan and the six eyes user from the gojo clan 400 years ago. (read ‘fated to love you’ here)

it hurt you to ask, “did that man use that tool on you…?”

“yeah. it broke through infinity.”

tears started to form in your eyes. guilt filling every ounce of your body. a cursed tool from your clan’s collection that the gojo clan entrusted to your clan ended up being the reason why satoru almost died.

“it’s funny, don’t you think?” satoru started to say, “a six eyes gojo ancestor gave that cursed tool to the love of their life, a (l/n) water cursed technique user to keep safe so that no one could ever use it against the gojo clan... and the tool almost killed me. my ancestor would be rolling in her grave right now.”

you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, “it’s not funny, satoru. i don’t care what the legend has to say. i’m not losing you. not in this lifetime.”

satoru wished things could go back to normal... before this whole mess with the star plasma vessel, before the inverted spear of heaven was stolen. today was life changing for satoru, as he was sure it was for you too. he unlocked a side of him that he didn’t know existed. after tapping into the core of cursed energy, everything inside him changed. he felt a new high that he thought would never go away. would he be able to live his life freely with these new abilities?

“well, i’m still here kicking and breathing. someone has to be the strongest and live to protect the weak.” he said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. “—but really though, what’re you thinking about?”

“i’m thinking about how i almost lost the love of my life.” frowning at the nightmare you experienced today. "and this life for us was just getting started..."

you thought back to yours and satoru's visit to your clan's estate. the memory of you and him confirming your feelings for one another at the lily pad pagoda. you wanted to be with him in this lifetime, and all the lifetimes after that. satoru was end game for you.

he grinned, whispering in your ear, “damn, this guy named satoru gojo must be lucky to have a girlfriend like you.”

“satoruuu—” you whined, hitting his chest softly with your tiny fist, “i was so scared seeing you like that. and i couldn’t even get my shit together to heal you.” tears started to form on your dark eyelashes again, the guilt was still eating you up inside.

satoru cupped your cheek with his hand, wiping your tears away with his thumb just like he did earlier today. the palm of his hand on your cheek was a perfect fit. it was like he was made just for you, to hold and to love for the rest of your life.

“it’s okay, babe. you did everything you could.” he whispered.

“and it wasn’t enough, satoru! i couldn’t even protect you like i promised...” you cried as more tears streamed down your cheek. satoru's thumb wiping away the tears again.

“it's not your job to protect me.” satoru said sternly.

“then what is my job?”

“just to sit here and look pretty for me.” satoru joked as you glared at him through damp tears.

before you could interject with another whine, he hushed you by putting his index finger on your lips, “—your job, babe, is to love this guy named satoru gojo for the rest of your life.”

“now that… i think i can do.” you hiccuped, “—don’t ever scare me like that again, satoru gojo.”

there was a silence between the two of you after you said that. satoru knew he probably couldn’t promise you that something like this wouldn’t happen again, but he knew that he could promise you that he would do everything in his power to protect you for the rest of your lives. it was the very same promise he gave to you, your brother, and the both of your grandparents.

two eyes as blue as the ocean yearned for you to tell him the three words he’s been waiting to hear all day. he stared into your eyes as you gently stroked his cheek with your hand.

“i love you, satoru gojo. so much.” you leaned into him, kissing him with a little more need than usual. satoru tilted his head back, admiring the view of the beautiful you before he leaned back down press a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you too, (y/n). it’s an honor to be loved by you...”

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: their fav pet names for you

characters: reader x gojo, sukuna, fushiguro, itadori, nanami

warnings: language (i be cussing a lot sry), suggestive in gojo’s but not rly

AN: first jjk post!! hope it doesn’t flop lollllll

GOJO

pet names he calls you: sweet thang, sugar, princess, babe, mrs. gojo

now u alrdy knew before even reading that his goofy ass has a million an one pet names for you lol

but anyways

he’s got a MAJORRR sweet tooth hehe

like bro is always snackin on something sugary

hence the pet names sweet thang and sugar

“whatchu doin sweet thang” holding up his blindfold so you can see him wink at u lmfao

but when he calls u sugar i imagine him doin it the way those sweet old southern ladies say it if ykwim lmao

now

princess and babe are much more casual

like he’s calling out “babe i’m home!” when he gets back from a mission

or y’all are at the school and he’s calling for you even tho he 100% alrdy knows exactly where u are bc of ur cursed energy “princesssssssss where are youuuuuu??”

and mrs. gojo is used in either a VERY romantic situation when he’s tryna rizz u up

or

he’s tryna embarrass you in front of the students

there is no in between

“well, me and mrs. gojo gotta head out! she has stuff to do!”

“satoru.. we are not married. my last name isn’t gojo.”

“… yet” 😼

“and what stuff do i have to do?”

“me. i’m stuff.” 😼

*que megumi, yuji, and nobara fake gagging in the background*

SUKUNA

pet names he calls you: my queen, darling

he’s the king of curses so the first one should be self explanatory

cmon every king needs a queen yk

now he’s powerful as hell right

bro demands respect for himself

but let somebody say som to you in the wrong tone

girl rip that person fr

“you dare to speak to my queen that way?” and he’s busting their ass

also that’s how he introduces you to everybody

introduces himself first. and then hits them w the “and this is my queen, (y/n)”

darling is more of a laid back casual pet name

but he uses it all the mf time

“come here, darling”

“you look beautiful as always, darling”

“darling, you are the one that is important to me.”

darling darling darling

FUSHIGURO

pet names he calls you: babe, love, sweetheart

he likes to keep it simple

most of the time he just calls you by your name

def keeps the pet names to a minimum in public

or when he’s around his friends

especially when he’s around gojo lol

i mean cmon the second he calls u a pet name and gojo overhears?

poor thing is being teased til he’s bright red with embarrassment

in private tho?

ur real name almost never leaves his mouth lmfao

it’s “babe can you do this?” “come take a nap with me, love” “what are you doin, sweetheart”

idk i just know he’s soft for u

ITADORI

pet names he calls you: baby, cutie, peaches/peach

this man loves you and isn’t afraid to show it!!

NEVER uses ur real name

EVER

baby and cutie are his casual nicknames ofc

for things he’s sayin to u in passing

he’s hugging u from behind with a “hey cutie”

or when he’s whining abt something lol

“cmon baby you can’t be mad at me forever”

but he uses peach and peaches the most

the man likes ass

he said it himself

it’s canon

so ofc he’s referring to your “big juicy ass” his words not mine when he calls you that lmfaooo

but it also cute asf

“come peach get dressed! i’m taking you to watch a movie with me!”

NANAMI

pet names he calls you: sweetheart, darling, my love, honey

I. LOVE. HIM.

i rly don’t even have any reasoning behind his usage of these pet names they just fit him

he’s such a serious, sophisticated, gentleman

so of course he takes his relationship with you seriously as well

makes sure that you know he adores you

his love language is words of affirmation ik it

gojo jokes that y’all talk to each other like an old married couple

which u do

but it’s cute!!!

it’s the middle of the night and he has to leave for a mission and wake you up on accident?

“sorry, sweetheart, go back to sleep. i’ll be home soon”

he gets home from the mission and as soon as he opens the door he hits you w the cliche

“honey, i’m home!”

this next one is an every day occurrence

and i MEAN EVERYDAY

“good morning, my love” IN HIS DEEP MORNING VOICE meowwww

and y’all go on a date an you get dressed up for it?

“you look absolutely stunning, darling”

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good. 

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it. 

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship. 

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi. 

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again. 

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him. 

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection. 

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard. 

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual. 

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi. 

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol. 

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again. 

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written. 

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened. 

Déjà vu? 

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there. 

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up. 

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out.  When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception. 

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now. 

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start. 

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back. 

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you. 

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter. 

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back. 

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile. 

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once. 

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day. 

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted march 27, 2023]

[oddinary4bts]

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 14 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in this chapter)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: things might get emotional in this one, jungkook's photo exposition, oc's mom call once, laura is there but we don't care about that anymore, do we?, curse words, explicit content: mentions of pain kink and choking kink, dom!jk, brat!reader, hair pulling, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, fingering, edging, unprotected sex (don't be stupid)

☆word count: 13k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: It's the last chapter and I am so so so emotional about it. The Forgotten Spaces was a journey, and I can't believe it's coming to an end. To think I started writing this in January... it's been forever. Thank you for reading me, for sending me all these asks and interacting with me so much over this fic. It means a lot! I hope you'll enjoy this last chapter just as much as you've enjoyed the others <3

☆a/n pt 2:Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, December 1st

                You’ve been feeling Jungkook’s eyes darting to you almost every minute now, like he’s synchronized with the minute hand of a clock. You’re studying in your apartment, finals inching closer with every passing day. Yesterday evening, you went to buy a real Christmas tree, and the aroma of the branches has been playing with your nose since you sat down at the coffee table to study. Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen counter, and he’s long stopped looking at his laptop in front of him. The screen went black, but he doesn’t seem to care.

You catch his gaze when his eyes dart to you once more, and you cock an eyebrow in question. He chuckles, and his eyes slide to his dark screen.

“What’s up with you?” you ask.

He shrugs, and taps on the touchpad. His screen comes back to life, and he types in his password. “Nothing.”

You squint your eyes, glancing at the book you’ve been highlighting from. You reckon you could use a break, so you put the highlighter down, getting up from your spot to walk to where Jungkook is sitting.

“Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing,” you whisper, and you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s studying for his anatomy final, and you read along with him as you wait for him to reply.

He shrugs, and his tattooed hand shoots up to hold onto your wrist. He traces figures with his thumb on your skin, and turns his head to look at you.

“What do you want for Christmas?” he asks.

His question takes you by surprise. And you don’t know what you want, you’ve never had a boyfriend to get gifts from and give presents to.

A boyfriend… You haven’t used the label yet. At least not out loud. But you think both of you know without needing to say it.

“Mmh,” you hum. “I don’t know. I didn’t think we were doing presents.”

You can hear the frown in his voice when he speaks. “I want to treat you.”

You laugh, pressing a peck to the side of his neck. “Can I choose an activity instead of a gift? I like spending time with you.”

“You want me to take you out on a date?”

It’s not something you’ve been doing a lot. The honeymoon phase led to you spending more time alone, at your place. Never being able to get enough of the other, passion and desire leading the dance between you two. But you reckon you’d like to go on a date with him, to go to museums and laugh at the art together. To grab dinner with him in a fancy restaurant, and pretend you know anything about wine.

Well, you do, a little. But you’ve never seen Jungkook drinking wine before, which gives you an idea after all.

“What about a wine degustation? I’ve heard there’s a nice little winery just outside of the city.”

“I don’t drive, and I assume you’d want to drink, no?” he points out.

You press another kiss to his neck, and watch the goosebump forming on his skin. “We can go by train.”

He shifts a little, turning to fully look at you. “Alright then. I’ll take you to a nice winery, and I’ll get you some nice wine. That sounds like a good present for a good girl.”

“Kook,” you whine, and you pull away to punch him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

You glare at him, as he just offers you that lopsided grin that makes you all giddy inside.

“Do I?”

He grabs your face, kisses your forehead and pulls away. “Yes.”

You hum, shrugging. “Maybe.”

He pouts, and you brush it away with your thumb. Your hand lingers on his cheek, and his face falls serious. You lean closer to kiss him softly and he melts under you. He pulls you so you’re in front of him instead of behind, as his lips work against yours.

You’ll never get tired of kissing him.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask once you’ve finally pulled away, and his forehead is resting against yours.

“I won’t be as cheesy as you,” he teasingly answers. “There’s this game I’ve wanted for a while? Maybe you could get me that. It’s multiplayer, we could try to play together?”

“Isn’t Tae your gaming buddy?” You’re teasing him, because in truth you’d love to game with him. You’ve liked watching him play so far, and you reckon playing with him could also be fun.

“You could be one too!” he insists. “We could get Jo to play with us, I’m sure she’d love it.”

You laugh, softly, before pecking his lips once more. “Sounds good. I’ll get the game for you.”

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. His thighs are on each side of you, and you can’t resist but run your hands up and down, feeling his muscles.

“You’re the best.”

When he kisses you again, it feels different. More intense, languid, and you immediately know where it’s going to lead. You reckon you’ve wanted a break, and indulging in Jungkook seems like a good way to do it. So you let him press you against him, while you keep dragging your hands on his thighs.

He pulls away, and you move to his jaw, and then to his neck, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses behind. He breathes in sharply, tilting his head to give you better access.

“Should we go to your bedroom?” he breathlessly asks, and you nod while you suck a mark on his skin. He hisses, and his gaze is dark when you step away from him to head towards your bedroom.

He follows you, hand finding yours so you can pull him behind you. The moment you’re in your bedroom he loses all restraints, grabbing your face to crash his lips against yours. You think you can taste blood, but it’s hard to form coherent thoughts when he kisses you like that, like he’s been starved for so long. Like he needs you to replace the oxygen in his lungs and the blood in his veins.

It’s mind-numbing, and you hold onto his shirt, clutching it in your fists. You almost want to tear the fabric off his body, but you like his shirt – he looks good in it. You don’t want to ruin it. But the way he’s kissing you right now… you’re pretty sure he wants to ruin you. And you want to let him do it, want him to use you.

He’s good at it. Sex with him just keeps getting better and better, as you get to know each other’s body more every day. You know how he likes pain – whether it’s your nails digging in his back, your teeth in his shoulder, or your hand clutching his balls while you suck his dick. He knows you like it as well, especially when he chokes you or slaps your ass. It works well together, and you feel like he was made for you, through every aspect of your relationship.

Jungkook is perfect for you, and you’re going to show him right now.

You pull away from the kiss, immediately dropping to your knees. The impact on the hardwood floor hurts, but you’re already busy pulling his joggers down his legs. Jungkook’s tongue is poking at his cheek, the only indication that he wanted to be the one pleasing you, but he doesn’t resist. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, before tangling it into his firm grip.

He’s soft. The bulge in his boxers is already big though, even if you know it grows a lot whenever he gets hard. He watches you carefully as you pepper small kisses on him through his boxers, hands caressing his thighs. You follow the line of his scar on his left line, massaging it gently as you tease his dick with your teeth, looking up at him innocently.

“Take them off,” he commands, and you tilt your head to the side.

“Why should I?”

A storm passes in his eyes, and he pulls on your hair, once. It hurts, but you hold onto the smirk on your lips, because you like being a brat with him. It makes the sex ten times better.

“That’s how you want it to be, uh?”

You bite your lips as one of your hands moves to the bulge. You palm him, and he sits heavy in your hand. He’s growing semihard already, and when you press a kiss to the tip, you’re pretty sure you’ve tasted precum. Just to make sure, you lap at him, and a satisfied smirk grows on your lips when Jungkook hisses.

“Don’t tease,” he warns, pulling on your hair once more. “I want to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, mmh?”

“Do you?”

He clenches his jaw, tilting his head to the side. “And you want me to bring you out to a winery. Going to have to punish you first.”

“We both know you like it,” you tease.

His silence is answer enough, and you decide to finally give in to him. You hook your thumbs in his boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. He steps out of them and kicks them somewhere in your room, while you look at his dick sitting prettily in front of your face.

He’s still just semihard. You’ll be able to deep throat him, and he sees it in your gaze as you grab the base of his dick.

“Be nice,” he warns. “Ease into it, baby.”

“Anything for you, Kook,” you purr, and then you dive in. Heading for one of his balls, sucking it in your mouth and twirling your tongue around it as you start jerking him off lazily, with not nearly enough pressure for what he likes.

He lets you do it only because you’re sucking on his ball, and when your teeth graze the sensitive organ, he pulls your head back so hard you actually wince.

“Sorry,” he immediately apologizes, releasing your hair. “Are you okay?”

You lick at his slit, tasting the precum. “I deserved it, uh? Don’t you want to punish me?”

“I…” he trails off when you suck hard on the tip once, hollowing your cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You pull away. “You’re good, Kook, you know I like it rough. I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much.”

He doesn’t need more to grab a handful of your hair again, pushing your head towards his dick. “Then be a good girl and suck my dick, baby.”

You smirk, before obeying. He’s already gotten a little harder, so you take most of what you can in your mouth, jerking off the part that doesn’t fit. You tease the underside of his dick with your tongue, before swallowing around him. He grunts, throwing his head back, and you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows.

You keep at it for a while, feeling his dick getting harder and harder with every swipe of your tongue, every hollowing out of your cheeks. He’s grunting, breathing heavily, and it’s a melody to your ears. To know you’re the one pulling that out of him, the only one at that, makes you feel important.

“You want to take me all the way in?” he asks, voice dark and husky as his arousal starts to take over his mind. “I could fuck your mouth.”

That makes you pull away. “You could eat my pussy at the same time. Let’s see who’s going to come first.”

He smirks down at you. “We both know that’d be you. I already know you’re dripping for me.”

You are. You can’t lie. So you squeeze your thighs together, moaning softly before stuffing Jungkook’s cock in your mouth once again. You loosen up your throat, taking all of him in this time, and when he hits the back of your throat, you hold in the gag reflex.

His other hand finds your head too, and he holds you there, circling his hips slowly.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he praises. “I’ll never get tired of it.”

And he doesn’t have to. You love sucking him dry, love swallowing his hot seed whenever he decides to come down your throat. You love pleasuring him, love everything when it comes to him.

Your eyes are tearing a little when Jungkook’s hips move back, but he still holds your head into place. When just his tip is still in your mouth, he says, “Can I fuck your mouth a little before we move to the bed?”

You nod, and he pushes back in, slowly. When he hits the back of your throat, you moan around him, and the grunt he lets out is heavenly.

And then he really starts fucking your mouth. Thrusting in and out, as your drool rolls on your chin. You just keep on moaning around him, trying to keep eye contact even though your eyes are tearing up more and more. Soon, his grunts morph into moans, and you almost think he’s going to come down your throat.

But he suddenly pulls away, his breathing ragged. “We got to stop here, I really want to fuck you.”

You pout. “I don’t mind you coming in my mouth.”

“After I’ve at least got to fuck you, babe. Then I’ll come down your throat and you’ll swallow everything for me.”

Mischief lights up your gaze as you nod, getting up. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

He’s back to kissing you in no time, his tongue assaulting your mouth. You suck on it as his hands grab at the meat of your ass, massaging it and forcing you to step impossibly close to him. His cock rests against your stomach, and you just want it to be buried inside of you already. So you force yourself to pull away from the kiss just long enough to say, “Bed?”

Jungkook nods, and then he picks you up swiftly. You giggle a little, because you know exactly what he’s going to do. And he does it, throwing you on your bed like your weight is nothing to him. You reckon you might seem weightless to him – he works out a lot, with the help of his physical therapist. It’s helped him with the pain in his leg, though he does sometimes complain about the itching and pulling of the scars still.

Whenever he does, you make sure to show him just how much you love his scars. And you think he’s started to love them too.

He takes off his shirt before joining you on the bed, hands pulling on your ankles to make you lie down. You yelp a little, mostly because it surprised you, but when he pulls your pants down, the yelp morphs into a small breathy sound. Especially as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thigh once you’re naked, revering every inch of your skin. He’s left your panties on though, and you almost feel his gaze burning you through the fabric.

“You’ve soaked your panties,” he comments. “Always so ready for me.”

“I just want to have your cock buried in me,” you whine as his kisses move closer to your core.

He smirks against your skin, before softly biting into it. When you hiss, he uses his tongue to lap the sting away. “Then you shouldn’t have been a tease.”

You want to curse him, to tie him up on your bed so you can sit on him, so you can use his dick to pleasure yourself, but when he wraps his lips on your clit through your panties, you moan.

He’s quick to pull your panties to the side, tongue lapping at your entrance twice before he’s moved up to your clit. He draws circles on you, presses on the sensitive organ.

“You taste so good,” he praises. “So sweet.”

Your teeth dig in your bottom lip when he sucks hard. “Kook…”

“Baby.”

As if to reward you, one of his fingers finds your entrance. He teases it for a few seconds, before pushing in, ever so slowly. And then he arches it, finds the sweet spot that makes you see stars, and makes it his mission to make you come as quickly as he can. He pumps his finger, alternates pressing on your clit and sucking on it. A knot starts to form in your lower stomach, and he adds a second finger, adding scissoring motions to the ordeal.

That’s when you start moaning, unashamedly. Loudly, even though you think your neighbors might hear. You don’t care about that, just care about the feeling of the knot tightening and tightening inside of you. It’s about to snap when Jungkook entirely stops, pulling away from you, denying you the orgasm.

“You’ll come around my dick instead, uh?”

“Fuck,” you curse.

He’s only smirking, as he kneels between your legs. “Take off your shirt.”

You bite on your lower lip, sitting up just enough to pull on the fabric. Jungkook helps you, and when your breasts come into view he lets out an appreciative sigh.

“Always so fucking hot. I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.”

It’s your turn to smirk. “I know you like it when I don’t.”

“A good fucking girl indeed.” He bends down to kiss you stupid, and when you fall back on the bed he remains kneeling. His large hands cup your breasts, pushing them together. He seems to like what he sees, because he says, “One of these days I will have to fuck your breasts.”

You look down at yourself. “Don’t think I have enough for that to work.”

“Oh, trust me, baby. You’ve got plenty enough.”

On that note he aligns his dick with your entrance, holding your panties to the side once again. For some reason, he likes doing that. Fucking you while you’re still wearing your panties. Likes to ruin your underwear, until both of your juices are soaking them up.

Today is no different. He pushes all the way in, making your eyes fall shut at the sudden intrusion, and you moan loudly as he lets go of the panties to hold your waist instead.

“Now, you’re going to come around my dick, okay?” he tells you. “Tell me what to do to make you come.”

“Kook,” is all you can say as he pulls almost all the way out before fucking into you hard again. “My…” He starts going back and forth, quickly, and your mouth falls open on a broken moan. He’s stretching you wide open, and the usual burn only turns you on further, only brings back the knot in your stomach. You try to focus, and it takes you a few seconds before you’re able to form a sentence. “Rub on my clit,” you say.

He stills deep inside of you. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Kook.” You reach down, about to do it yourself when he grabs your hands, before holding both of them over your head. When he’s sure you won’t touch yourself again, he starts fucking into you, and he does rub on your clit with his thumb. His touch is light at first, testing your sensitivity, and when you beg for him to go harder, he obeys, timing the motions of his thumb with the back and forth of his hips.

Your hands find purchase on a pillow over your head, and you clutch it tight as you feel the knot returning. With his free hand, Jungkook grabs your neck, holding you into place. And when he starts feeling your walls clenching on him, his fingers dig into your arteries.

“Come for me, baby.”

You choke out a moan, as the sensations suddenly grow tenfold, and then everything snaps inside of you. You cry out his name, and he relaxes his grip on your neck as you come undone, walls pulsing around his shaft. He stills deep inside of you, probably in an attempt to not come too, and when you’re finally coming down from the high, he meets your gaze.

“Still want to swallow my cum, mmh?”

“Kook, fuck.” You chuckle a little. “You’re ready to come already?”

His features grow even darker, and you watch as beads of sweat roll on his cheek and on the side of his neck. “Nah, I think I want to fuck you stupid some more.”

“Shit,” is all you have time to mutter before he’s going at it again. Quick, hard, and he pulls your legs on his shoulders to hit inside of you at a better angle. You’re soon a moaning mess again, and your walls clench around him some more. He holds your legs in place, fucking into you so hard you think he’s rearranging your guts. He’s a grunting mess, and you watch him for a few seconds. He looks so good fucking you like that, chest flushed red, inked arm wrapped around your legs. His other hand is on your hip, fingers digging in the supple skin. Some of his hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead, and if you weren’t focused on letting him pleasure himself, using your pussy, you’d reach out between you to brush the hair away.

But you don’t care right now. You’re fucked out, blissed by the orgasm you just had and the pleasure he’s still bringing to you. You’re still sane enough to think about his leg, to be concerned that it’s going to hurt later, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care at all.

It takes a while before he slows down, and his movements are slow and languid when he speaks again. “I want to see your lips around my cock again.”

He lets go of your legs, pulling out of you. You miss him right away, but you want to pleasure him far more than you want him to be fucking you right now. So you get on all fours, before sitting back on your heels. Jungkook gets up, standing on the side of the bed, before holding out his hand for you to take.

You grab it, gently, and he pulls you closer to the side of the bed. Because it’s easier for him to come when he’s standing, and you know he’s holding the orgasm in already.

You sit on the side of the bed, before massaging his thighs once more. Eyes meeting his as he’s looking down at you, towering over you. You ignore his dick, but when he moves closer, tapping it on your lips, you can’t resist to lick at him.

All you taste on him is yourself, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more.

“Suck me, baby. I’m so close.”

“Fuck my mouth, then. Use me.”

“You think you can’t make me come?”

Oh, the little shit. You’re going to make him come just fine.

You look down, eyes following the vein on his dick. It’s glistening from your juices right now, and when you wrap your lips around his tip, you really do taste yourself. It’s a taste you’re getting used to, because Jungkook really does like to come down your throat.

You grab the base of his dick in one hand, using the other to palm at his balls. His insufferable smirk melts away as you start working on him, alternating sucking on his tip and playing with his frenulum with your tongue. He’s rock hard in your mouth, far harder than he was earlier, and you know he’s going to come in no time.

So you start bobbing your head up and down his shaft, swallowing around him whenever he hits the back of your throat. He’s a grunting mess, a moaning mess, by the time you start squeezing his balls, and you hold eye contact as you pleasure him.

“I’m in love with that fucking mouth of yours,” he says, and his eyes flutter shut. “You’re so fucking good.”

You moan around his dick, which in turn makes him hiss. And when he starts moving a little, his motions sloppy, you know he’s about to come. So you squeeze harder, suck harder, and moan around him as hot shots of his seed hit the back of your throat. You swallow it as he comes, listening to the chorus of moans and curses he’s letting out, with your name laced into it. It’s sinful, hot, and you think you could also come just listening to him like that.

When you’ve milked the last of his orgasm out of him, Jungkook pulls away, your mouth making a popping sound when he’s out. He chuckles, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead, before grabbing your jaw.

“You swallowed everything?”

Ever the obedient girl, you open your mouth to show him that you indeed did. He seems satisfied, and he kisses your forehead once more, before grabbing your hand. You already know he’s going to pull you to the shower, and you follow him, eyes falling to his ass.

He’s got a great ass. Not necessarily big, but it’s muscled, defined, and the thighs that complement it turns it into a work of art, in your opinion. You love Jungkook’s body, love the care that he puts into it, and you don’t think you’d get tired of looking at him.          

He glances over his shoulder. “Like the view?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re the one that’s staring at my ass! Even I don’t do this to you.”

You frown, digging your heels in the ground to stop in your spot. “You’re annoying.”

“I’m right though.”

He isn’t. You know he likes watching your body too, likes revering every inch of it with his lips and hands and gaze. He makes you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, and you reckon he deserves you making him feel like this too.

“You aren’t,” you finally say. “But, why can’t I look at you? You’re hot.”

“I’m ‘hot’,” he repeats. “Wow.”

“It’s a compliment!”

He bursts out laughing, before pulling you into a hug. “I know, I’m being a little shit. Thank you.” He adds your name sweetly, and then presses a peck to the top of your head. “By the way,” he says against your hair, “Do you want to come to my photography exposition next week?”

Your heart melts in your chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist to hold him flush against you, even though he’s still sweaty from the sex. “Of course, Kook. I’d love to come.”

You look up to meet his gaze. He’s smiling softly, with that lovesick look to his eyes that makes you feel like you’re swimming in ecstasy.

You want him to look at you like this until the day you die. Want to look at him like this too. Because, truly, you become the most important girl in the world when he looks at you like this. The most important girl in that world of you two, that space that belongs just to you.

“Thank you,” he finally whispers, and then he kisses you softly. “Let’s shower now.”

You chuckle, before following him into the bathroom.

Friday, December 14th

                Jungkook is anxious. He’s been wanting to show you his photography for a while, but he’s always refrained from doing it. Partly because he still remembers you nagging him in Chicago about taking so many pictures of you, but mostly because this exhibit feels personal to him. It’s a collection of moments he experienced throughout the year, and when he looks at it, he feels like it’s his soul bared. And even though he’s bared his soul to you countless times before, it’s different like this. He doesn’t even know if you’re going to like it.

He sighs, shakily, before wiping his clammy hands on the fabric of his dress pants. They’re pale, and his light blue dress shirt is tucked neatly into it. It’s a little too tight on him, and he’s been getting looks from some people a couple of times, but most people avoid his exposition.

Mostly because Laura made it clear that he was an asshole, and all of her photography friends started hating on him too. Before, he would have probably been angry about it, upset with Laura, but now he feels like it doesn’t matter. He knows his friends are all going to come anyway, and though it’s been stressing him out, he knows that it’ll be fine.

The first friend that gets here is Namjoon. Namjoon, the biggest art nerd. Somehow, it soothes Jungkook that he’s the one here first. Because if the exposition is trash, he knows his friend will give an honest review.

Namjoon claps his hand and pulls him into a bro hug, his eyes going over the pictures. He smiles appreciatively, glancing at Jungkook.

“You should really become an art photographer. I told you you’re good at it.”

The praise makes Jungkook’s eyes well up with surprising tears. “Joon…”

“No, I’m serious!” Namjoon insists. He looks at the exposition again. “It’s a cycle. Twelve pictures, with light changing ever so slightly in all of them. And the centerpiece? You’re a goner.”

Jungkook blushes deep red, and he digs his hands in his pants. “Uh… It just felt fitting.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding slowly. “Of course. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook chokes out. “I’m… so fucking anxious for her to see it.”

Namjoon playfully pushes him. “Every time I’ve seen her she just looked at you with hearts in her eyes. She’s gone for you just as much as you are for her.”

“Is she?” Jungkook asks, toying with his piercing, though he already knows. He’s seen the switch in you – the way you grew softer around him, the way you take every opportunity to be with him and cherish it like it’s the last. You make him feel like he was born one day to find you, like you were the purpose of his life. It’s an intense feeling, a scary one, but he reckons when he was younger he always believed that he’d know when he was going to meet the right one.

Well… He didn’t know it right away with you, right? It took him what… seven years? Eight? He doesn’t even remember. But when the switch happened in him, he knew right away. He knew right away that you were the one, that he’d have to spend the rest of his life making sure that you know that. Making sure to prove it to you. He thinks he’s been doing it now, though he has to admit he was too scared at first. Hurt you instead of loving you. But he believes he’s been doing better now. Believes he’s redeeming himself a little more every day.

He stops his train of thoughts, because he’s getting emotional and you’re not even here yet. Namjoon tells him he’s going to look at the rest of the exhibition, and that he’ll come back when the rest of the friend group arrives. Jungkook watches him go, before grabbing his phone out of his back pocket to occupy himself.

[5:47 pm] You: i’ll be a little late. i’m stuck in traffic, but i’m close! [5:47 pm] You: i’m sure u’re doing great! my dad told me to wish u good luck

What you don’t know is your dad told him himself. They’ve been talking, from time to time. Mostly because your father believes he should come to California for the Holidays along with you. Jungkook hasn’t decided yet, because he doesn’t want to impose and he doesn’t want to make you feel forced to welcome him. Your father says he’s sure you’ll accept, but he hasn’t had that conversation with you yet.

He feels like if tonight goes well, then it might be the moment to ask.

[5:48 pm] jkonthebeat: joonie is already here! i think jo and tae should get here soon [5:49 pm] You: jo told me they’ll get there with jimin and scottie, and scottie just texted me that he saw laura and feels like murdering someone

Jungkook almost laughs out loud, but he stops himself just in time to see that Scottie, Jimin, Taehyung and Jo indeed just got here. They all wave when they see him, bright smiles on display, laughing about something they probably were joking about before they saw him. Jungkook waves them over, and the anxiety spikes once more as they take a look at his photography.

When they all compliment him, Taehyung and Jimin clapping him on the back and telling him that they’re proud of him, his anxiety calms down once more. He’s relieved, and at this point he’s pretty positive you’ll like it too. Because if his closest friends, who take every opportunity to tease him, tell him that he did a good job, then he reckons he did.

They all stay with him, and Namjoon comes back a moment later, as they all talk and joke around. Jungkook can’t help but feel gazes on him: Laura and her friends. He’s pretty sure Laura would murder him if she got the chance, and he only knows it’ll grow tenfold when you get here.

The presence of his friends grounds him, and when the examiner comes to look at his exposition, Jungkook’s speech is strong and steady, as he explains everything that he wanted to represent in the pictures. He explains how the light follows the hour of the day, and his emotions at the time. Each picture represents a month, last year. It starts in January, when he wasn’t doing great at all. The pictures are darker in the beginning months, then gradually get lighter in May and June. They’re hopeful, those pictures. One of them is a picture of the frogs under the bridge next to the dance studio, and he remembers when he walked with you, after dance practice all those months ago. He remembers the hope he felt, how his steps were light for the first time in months.

Then it all grows dark again in July. The picture isn’t unhappy. It’s the night sky at the cottage that he photographed with a long exposure tape. It isn’t sad, no, because it does remind him of you. But he chose it because July was sad, too, as were the following months. Dark pictures for August and September follow. A stormy night when he couldn’t sleep, and he knew Laura was asleep in his bed when he took the picture, yet he couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to be with her.

He was thinking of you, hating himself for choosing her.

October becomes lighter again, slowly. A picture in the shade in Chicago. You’re in it, as are Taehyung and Jo, with your backs turned to the camera. He’s titled it ‘Where I learned to live again’. Because truly, that’s how it felt to him. That trip to Chicago… it made him feel reborn.

November is a picture he took from the window of your apartment, of a bright, golden setting sun. That one he titled ‘Where I found hope again’. Because he found hope while being with you, more than you can imagine.

The last one is a picture of a bright, snowy day you spent with him a week ago. The storm hit unexpectedly, and you stayed with him, at the house with the other boys. It’s a picture of the backyard, with you all laughing around as you’re making snow angels. The picture is focused on you, with your big grin and rosy cheeks from the cold.

This one is called ‘Where I learned to love again’, but to be fair, he started to love again way before that. And it’s represented in the picture in the middle of the twelve, the one he chose to put there months ago. Back then, he didn’t know if he wanted to present his project at the exhibition, but with how things have evolved with you, he decided to do it.

It’s a picture of you, laughing, that he snapped in July at the cottage. He’s written a text next to it, a dedication to you, and that most of all is the reason why he’s anxious for you to see it.

In the forgotten space between then and now, her smile lingers. Healing, shining, like the sun after a long winter. Months that led to her, and now warmth clings to the world. The sun rays refuse to go away, and they shine ever so brightly after the darkness. Her light gives life, her smile gives hope, and her heart gives love.

It’s cheesy. Now that he thinks of it, he almost regrets writing that. But he knows that art blossoms where there’s love, and you’ve been his muse all year. Because most pictures, starting in April, are related to you. A story of how you got to where you are now.

His exhibit is called The Forgotten Spaces. It’s about how while he experienced those moments at first, he didn’t know. Didn’t realize what they meant. How he forgot that they meant something. Now, looking back, he knows that all of these moments meant everything. Meant everything to you and him, as they are your forgotten spaces, and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it.

Doesn’t care that Laura has been throwing him side eyes, and how he might have gone too poetic on the project. He’s proud of what he did, and he just can’t wait for you to see.

When the examiner walks away, with a “Good job” and a bright smile, Jungkook once again relaxes. His friends are still nearby, and their chatter dims out the rest of the room, until he’s only focused on them. They’re talking about getting drinks after, to celebrate, and Jungkook can’t help but start feeling excited.

It only grows tenfold when he notices you walking in. You look so pretty standing there, scanning the room as you search for him. You’re wearing dark pants, with a pale blouse you’ve tucked into them. When your gaze meets him, you light up like you’re the brightest star in the night sky, and you wave at him as you make your way closer.

You do notice Laura too. To Jungkook’s surprise, you offer her a smile, and then walk past as if you don’t care about her. And he reckons maybe you don’t anymore, after all that’s happened.

“Hey,” he greets you when you stop next to him.

Your gaze hasn’t moved to the pictures on the wall behind him yet. You’re entirely focused on him, and he senses his friends taking a few steps away to allow you two some privacy. You grab his hand, a thing you do in public because you’ve told him you don’t like public displays of affection, but that holding hands doesn’t count. He still can’t resist but pull you a little closer, and he grabs your other hand.

And then his heart starts beating wildly in his chest, because you look over his shoulder, tiptoeing to see the wall. And he sees thousands of emotions moving on your features, until you just turn fully red.

“Oh my God, Kook,” you let out. “Is your exposition about me?”

His heart sinks in his chest. He feels like he did something wrong, like he shouldn’t have taken pictures of you, but then you add, “You’re so fucking cheesy, what the hell.”

It’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, and he smirks down at you. “I mean, how could I resist? You’re my muse.”

“Stop!” you say, punching him in the chest. You then walk around him, taking a proper look at the pictures. “Is that why you didn’t want me to see, before today?”

Because you’ve asked. Countless times, but he always told you he’d rather not spoil the surprise. And when you turn and offer him a smile so sweet it tastes like honey, Jungkook knows he did the right thing.

“Yeah,” he says, and he turns around to motion at the pictures. “All of them are titled? And the one in the middle…”

“Wait,” you let out. “Wait, did you write a poem about me too? Jungkook, what the fuck?”

If he couldn’t see your teary eyes, he’d think you’re angry. But you clearly aren’t – at best, you’re probably just overwhelmed.

“I mean, it’s not a poem?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… It kind of explains the whole thing, and why I chose those pictures.”

At that you take a step forward, to look at the pictures closely. He lets you do it, lets you read the titles, following the chronological order of the months of this year. He can see your blush deepening when you get to the pictures where you can be seen clearly, and then you’re reading the text in the middle closely. He thinks you reread it a couple of times, because it takes you a while before you glance at him again.

You’re still teary-eyed when you do, and you extend a hand towards him. He takes it gently, raising it to his mouth so he can press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Don’t cry,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

You choke out a laugh. “This is just… Everyone can see this.” Another rush of anxiety moves through him before you add, “I just can’t believe I get to be with you. Like…”

You turn towards the pictures, and point towards the one from April, which is just a picture of a street light in the fog. “I hated you then. I hated you so bad, wished you had never come back into my life. And then… and then we fell in love, we hurt each other bad, and fell in love some more. Like…” You pause, because tears are moving on your cheeks. He reaches to dry them, and then you continue. “I can’t believe we’ve been through all of this, and finally figured it out.” You look away from him to say the next words. “I can’t believe I was afraid at first. There’s nothing scary about being with you.”

Your words echo in his mind for so long after you’re done talking that he just remains frozen next to you. They calm his heart, warm his soul, and make tears form in his eyes too, tears that he blinks away before scraping his throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump that was forming there. He murmurs your name then, for just you to hear.

“I love you,” he breathes out.

You look startled to hear the words. It’s the first time he’s told you ‘I love you’. You usually tiptoe around the words, using other ways to say it, like “I’m in love” or “text me when you’re home”, but now that they’re out in the open, they feel like the most natural thing he’s ever said in his life.

“Fuck, Kook,” you say, and you chuckle as a smile move on your lips, making your eyes shine from within. “I love you too. Thank you for being patient with me.”

He blinks his tears away. “Thank you for wanting to be with me, after everything. I’m still not sure I deserve it, but I really love you.”

“I know,” you say, nodding your head slowly. “But you deserve it! Like…” you trail off, motioning at the pictures. “Who would do this?”

“Is it… too much?” he asks, voicing his fear.

You laugh. “I mean… it’s a lot? But it’s so artistic and pretty, and I can’t believe I inspired you to do this.”

He echoes your laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “It was easy. I actually had almost everything done in October? I was just waiting to get the perfect pictures for November and December.”

“I can’t believe you used pictures of me,” you say, shaking your head. “Now everyone’s going to see my face.”

He pulls you closer, instinctively. “And they’re all lucky for it. But if you want me to take the pictures down already, I understand.”

“No.” You tilt your head to the side. “You’ve worked on this for so long, I won’t force you to take it down. It’s just… strange to see my face. But you’ve edited the pictures, right? No way I look this good.”

He rolls his eyes, gently nudging you with his elbow. “You do. And my camera is good quality. But honestly you barely needed any editing.”

You clearly don’t believe him, and you blabber on about it for a while. He just lets you speak, smiling fondly at you whenever you gaze at him. You eventually apologize for talking so much, and he laughs as he pulls you into his chest for a quick hug.

“Don’t apologize,” he reassures you. “I like listening to you. And…” He glances at the pictures. “I’m glad you like the project. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you it was mostly about you before? Maybe you wouldn’t have been a blushing mess then.”

“Jungkook!” you yelp out, and you pinch at his side in retaliation. He cringes, and then bursts out laughing as you aim for his sides again. He blocks you, grabbing your wrists and holding you in place. “I’m blushing because there’s pictures of me and your ex is here! And like… all those strangers too. Doesn’t mean I don’t like the project.”

“I know,” he says, chuckling. “I’m teasing you.”

He likes doing that. Teasing you. It shows him how, all those times he did it when you were younger, he probably meant something entirely different and was just too immature to realize it. To realize that you were the one for him. Now that he knows, teasing you fills him with giddy happiness, like a kid on Christmas morning. Mostly because you usually tease back, and you don’t disappoint tonight.

No, you end up bickering, until Jo tells you that you’re acting like an old couple. You both glare at her, but it stops the bickering, long enough for Jungkook to actually present his project to a couple of other people that have moved closer.

When the evening is over, and the last of the visitors are leaving including his friends, you stick around to help him take down the pictures. You hand them to him, though you hold onto the July night sky for far longer than he thought you would.

He glances around, satisfied to see that Laura’s left, before stepping closer to you.

“You can keep it if you want,” he tells you, and he steals a kiss on your temple.

You don’t even whine like you usually do in public. You just sigh, looking up at him. “I miss this weekend,” you admit. “It was so fun.”

“Maybe we can go next summer again?” he suggests. “I’m pretty sure everyone would be willing.”

It makes you smile, and you say, “I’d love to!” Jungkook is about to speak, but you quickly add, “And JK?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I…” you trail off, looking around, and your cheeks turn crimson once more. “I wanted to ask you something?”

You say it like a question, and it makes him chuckle. “What?”

“I know you’re… not going to go to Korea for the Holidays and…” You nibble on your bottom lip, meet his gaze once before letting yours drop to the floor. “Would you like to come with me? To California? I… my dad told me to invite you, and I’d like to have you there.”

His eyes well up with tears once again, and this time he doesn’t blink them away. “Of course! Of course, I’ll come.”

You step closer to him, wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his chest. “I know the plane tickets are expensive, but dad said he’d get one for you? So you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I can buy the ticket.”

“It’s a gift!” you insist. “Besides… he’s already bought it.”

Jungkook is surprised, because your father didn’t mention it last time he talked to him. But at the same time, he does understand why he wouldn’t have said it – your father probably wanted you to ask him yourself.

It’s understandable, and you look so cute fumbling with your words like that that Jungkook can’t help but press soft kisses on the top of your head. “Did he now?” He chuckles, and presses a kiss to your forehead when you gaze up at him. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to accept the gift, uh?”

You smile. “Yep, you’re going to have to,” you agree. And when you pull away, you let out an excited yelp that has him burst out laughing. “We’re going on a trip together!”

“We are,” he echoes, nodding his head. “I hope you don’t mind me sleeping on the plane ride. Planes make me sleep.”

You frown, and then chuckle. “You’re so weird.”

“That’s why you love me, uh?”

You look up at the sky as if annoyed, and then start giggling when he tickles your side playfully. “Stop!”

“Just because you’re cute,” he says, and he pecks your nose before pulling away.

He’s gone. He’s gone for you. He knows, his friends know, and sometimes he thinks the whole universe knows. And maybe that’s what happens when you’re destined to be with someone – when you finally reach them, when your paths finally cross and mesh to form one, it feels like the universe finds its meaning. And it does, for you. At least that’s how Jungkook feels, and that’s what inspired his photography project.

That night, when you lie in your bed, Jungkook makes sure to hold you close to him as he big spoons you. And when you mutter, half asleep, that you told your father your boyfriend will indeed be coming for the Holidays, Jungkook fights tears.

“Your boyfriend, uh?”

You nod against him. “You are, aren’t you? I think it’s time we make it official.”

And though it’s not like people didn’t already know, Jungkook still says, “So you’re my girlfriend, uh?”

You chuckle. “You did tell that girl at the Halloween party that I was your girlfriend, didn’t you?”

He had. He was embarrassed for a few seconds, until lust had taken over him, thanks to the alcohol and weed in his system.

“True,” he hums. “Well, then I’ll tell my mom that we’re dating? She’s been nagging me about you.”

“You… you talked to your mom about me?”

He presses a kiss on the back of your head. “Of course. I told her about you for the first time in June.” He pauses, then chuckles. “Well technically, she already knew who you were. I think I’ve been talking about you to her for years.”

“Kook,” you whine. “She probably hates me.”

He pulls you closer. “Nah, trust me. She loves you. She’s already talking about having us over during the summer break.”

He’d love to do that with you. To visit his home country, along with the person that feels like home to him. He thinks you’d like it there, even though you don’t know the language.

“Oof, you better teach me some Korean before then,” you say, and you both laugh. “All you’ve taught me so far is how to say hello and some curse words.”

“Got to start somewhere.”

You laugh again, and then you sigh, as you hold his arm a little tighter. “Indeed. Too bad I have nothing to teach you before we go to California.”

He chuckles deeply, and you talk the night away like that, even as you both grow tired. When you start yawning more than talking, Jungkook presses another kiss to the back of your head.

“We should go to sleep,” he says, and he fights a yawn. “We have to study tomorrow.”

You whine a little, in that cute way of yours. “Gosh, fuck studying. But yeah, we should go to sleep.”

“I… I love you,” Jungkook says tentatively.

He can hear the smile on your lips when you reply, “I love you too. Good night, Kook.”

“Good night.”

Monday, December 24th

                The house is loud, even though there’s only five of you. You think it’s mostly because Jungkook is playing with Louis, your father’s son. Your brother, sort of. They’re screaming in the living room, as Jungkook imitates the sounds Louis makes.

It’s adorable, it really is, and you reckon you like seeing how Jungkook acts with a kid. Even though you don’t want any, it just… rubs you the right way, you guess. Makes you want to hold him close to you, but then again you always want to hold Jungkook close.

Your father is currently working on something in his office. Even though it’s Christmas Eve, the grind doesn’t stop for him, and you know it won’t stop for you either once you graduate. Especially as you’re considering more and more to follow in his footsteps, as he suggested getting you in touch with the firm he was working at when he lived back on the East Coast with you and your mother.

That leaves you with Isabel, his new wife. She has been sweet to you – an angel, truly. Referring to you as her step-daughter, saying she always wanted a daughter and is really happy that she has you. You don’t know what your father told her about your relationship with your own mother, but you reckon it feels great to receive some motherly love, no matter how unexpected it is.

And she’s been giving you a lot. You got here three days ago and at first, it was a little overwhelming. But you’re already getting used to it, and you think it’s for the best. Because you do need it, especially in the middle of the Holiday season.

After all, it’s the first time you spend it without your mother. Even though you’ve never really received love from her, it still feels strange to be away, but you’re more accepting of it every day.

You haven’t really talked to her since she’s kicked you out. You don’t want to, and Mary agrees that it might be best for you to cut ties for now. She’s not opposed to you reconnecting in the future, as long as you keep a safe distance from your mother. For now, you don’t see that ever happening, and you feel comfortable with that. You don’t need your mother – she’s never really been a mother to you anyway.

“I don’t know who’s louder, your boyfriend or Louis,” Isabel complains and you chuckle as you glance at her.

You’re in the kitchen, and she’s putting the turkey in the oven for later tonight. You’ve been helping out a little, but she affirmed that she got it covered, so now you’re mostly just sitting on a bar stool, watching her work.

“Pretty sure it’s Jungkook,” you say, and you laugh as he indeed shrieks. “I think he prefers Louis over me.”

Isabel laughs, a crystalline laugh that sounds like she’s rehearsed it a thousand times. It’s pretty, and you’re a little jealous, knowing most of the times when you laugh you snort like a pig.

“Stop it, he’s head over heels for you,” she says, tutting. She rinses a cutting board, before putting it away in the dishwasher. “It’s actually kind of adorable.”

You feel the blush creeping up your neck, until it reaches your cheeks and turns them deep crimson. “Is it?”

Isabel nods widely. “It is! I wish your father still looked at me like that.”

“He does,” you reassure her. “He really loves you.”

Isabel smiles shyly, and she busies herself with washing some dish that she doesn’t usually put in the dishwasher. For a time, you both just listen to Jungkook and Louis, and then she speaks again. “I hope… I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

You hear the question mark at the end of her sentence, and it makes you look down at a random spot on the kitchen island in front of you. “Uh… I think it used to. But… being here right now helps?”

“I’m glad,” she says softly, and when you gaze up you find her smiling fondly. “I didn’t want to push the relationship before, but I think you deserve having your father in your life more. We’re happy to have you over whenever you want to.”

For some reason, you used to think she’d rather not have you over. It makes you blink away sudden tears, and you chuckle awkwardly. “Thank you. I wish I could host you three at home too, but my apartment isn’t big enough.”

“Yet,” she teases with a wink. “If you follow in your father’s footsteps you’ll be able to get a nice house for yourself and Jungkook.”

The perspective of a future like that, alongside Jungkook, makes butterflies arise in your stomach. “That’d be great. I can only wish I’m half as good as him.”

“And you know, if you really want to do international law instead of something in a firm like your father, you can too! He’s got great contacts at some embassies in Europe.”

You know that he does. But the need to get away, to live abroad, isn’t as strong as it once used to be for you. Because now you know that that was why you liked international law so much. Though you still find it interesting, you don’t wish to move away anymore. Not when you have Jungkook here at home.

“Honestly,” you let out slowly. “I think I want to stay here. In the US, I mean? I guess it depends on where Jungkook wants to go. He’s really close to his friends, and I wouldn’t want to force him to move away.”

Because the option of breaking up isn’t even there, and you don’t even want to consider trying long distance. No, you think Jungkook and you are made of stuff that lasts, of stuff that you can build a whole life on. He feels the same way – last night, he told you that one day he’d like to marry you. He was a little tipsy, that’s true, but it’s proof enough that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“What about your friends?” Isabel asks.

You think of Jiho. Of Jisung and Heather and the rest of the dance crew. Of Jo, Bridget, and even Kiko. Of Jungkook’s friends too, because they’ve become your friends as well. You reckon you wouldn’t want to move away from them either. They’ve grown to be your family, even though you’re realizing you’ve always had a family here, in California.

“I love them too much to leave,” you admit, and it feels strangely relieving to say it. As if you’re allowing yourself to truly care about them, to truly accept that they occupy an important part in your life. “I think I’ve got a good future ahead of me, if I stay home. Yes, it’s hard because it’s close to my mother, but it’ll always be home.”

“And that’s totally okay!” Isabel says, offering you a bright smile. “You’re allowed to want to stay.” She pauses for a few seconds, before adding teasingly, “Even if your father really wants you to move here.”

You laugh along with her, and when silence rises around you again, you glance towards the living room. From the kitchen, you can only see a small part of it, and you can’t see Jungkook or Louis. But now that the turkey is in the oven, Isabel and you move over there, and you end up playing Just Dance with Louis, even though he’s a little too young to actually dance. Isabel says he loves the game, and Jungkook is happy to oblige.

You watch him as he dances. His movements have gotten more fluid over the last few months, as if all the physical therapy that he did has finally caught up to him. It’s to the point that you’ve discussed with him and the crew about taking him back in as a dancer, but he hasn’t decided yet. Everyone said they’d be happy to have him dance, but Jungkook seems like he’s been appreciating his spot as the choreographer more through the months.

Maybe because you’ve won an award because of his choreographies.

Jungkook catches you looking, and he winks at you over his shoulder. You smile as your cheeks tint pink, and then he’s back to focusing on the dance, even though he’s purposefully missing every beat to let Louis win.

Still, Louis doesn’t, but the toddler doesn’t care, only wanting to dance with you next. So you do, and Jungkook and Isabel talk together on the couch while you entertain Louis. Your father eventually joins the group, and you spend the rest of the afternoon playing around, until it’s time for Louis to take a nap.

You and Jungkook actually decide to take a nap too, mostly because Louis was throwing a fit at the fact that his sister didn’t have to sleep. He only agreed once you said you will sleep too, and you reckon you could use a nap in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms.

And you do fall asleep quickly, as he’s holding you tight against him. It’s way too warm and you wake up drenched in sweat, but you don’t care. You take a shower while he remains in bed, bringing the clothes you’ve chosen for Christmas Eve along with you so you can get dressed right away.

It’s an ugly Christmas sweater, and Jungkook got one too, because your father insisted that you needed to dress with one to be welcomed at the table for dinner. To compensate for the silly look, you decide to put on makeup and curl your hair, and when you’re finally done, you exchange spots in the bathroom with Jungkook.

He quickly kisses you on the way in, telling you that you look amazing, and then you leave him to his own shower. You go back to your room to put away the clothes you were wearing earlier, and you’re about to head downstairs when your phone starts vibrating in your hand.

You freeze as your mother’s name appears on the screen, and as your heart drops down to your stomach.

It’s Christmas Eve, you think. She probably only wants to wish you a Merry Christmas, because surprisingly enough, she’s done that every year. Probably because Christmas is her favourite holiday. And it’s probably only because it is indeed Christmas Eve that you decide to accept the call.

“Hello,” you say as you put the phone against your ear.

She says your name, and she sounds relieved, as if she didn’t expect you to pick up at all. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great,” you tell her, but you don’t ask her the question back.

You don’t think she deserves you asking and, frankly, you don’t care about the answer enough.

“I’ve heard… that you’re not going to be at your aunt’s tonight?”

You sigh. “No. I’m visiting my father in California.”

“Oh,” she lets out. “Well then, Merry Christmas.” She pauses for a few seconds, as if she thought you were going to wish it back. “I was hoping to see you.”

“Why?” you ask, and you hope she doesn’t hear the tremble in your voice because, in truth, what she just said is breaking your heart.

“To… make amends?” she says. “I regret what happened earlier this year. It was mostly because I wanted to sell the house.”

You didn’t know she wanted that. It still doesn’t justify her actions – she could have just told you that instead.

���Ah,” you let out. There are a few seconds of silence, and then you add, “Have you?”

“Not yet,” she admits. “I haven’t been able to.”

You wait for her to say more, but she remains silent. You eventually cave in, asking, “Why?”

“Because I’ve been living there for a long time,” she explains. “It’s a place that’s dear to me, even though it holds a lot of bad memories.”

You scoff. “You know, you’ve got a lot of balls to tell that to me.”

“I don’t want to fight,” she quickly says. “I… I’ve been going to therapy. I’m still early in the process, but I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

Your heart breaks a little more, and you move to sit on the bed.

“I want to make efforts,” she continues. “I have been a horrible mother to you, and I know it’s too late to change the past, but I hope I can make the future better.”

“Listen mom,” you say, stopping her before she actually makes you cry. “I appreciate that you decided to get therapy. It was way past time. But… right now, I’m not in a place mentally where I want to allow you to be in my life. I really hope therapy helps you to become a better person, but it doesn’t mean I have to let you be in my life.”

She sniffles on her side of the line, and you think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard her cry. It’s hard, almost makes you take everything that you said back, but you’ve worked too hard with Mary to just give up right now.

“I understand,” she eventually says. “If there ever comes a day where you think we can talk, I’m just a phone call away. We could grab coffee. I have a lot I want to tell you, and I don’t think it justifies how I acted, but maybe you’ll understand.”

The thing is, you don’t care. You want to keep your peace of mind, but you reckon it’s Christmas Eve. You don’t have to tell her this today and ruin her favourite holiday.

You really are the most mature out of the two of you, aren’t you?

“Okay,” you choose to say. “I’ll call you whenever I’m ready.”

“Thank you,” she whispers in the phone, voice heavy with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology hurts more than anything else could have. “Don’t apologize,” you tell her. “Instead, work on yourself, and prove to me that you mean it. If that can be the Christmas gift I ask for this year.”

“Yes,” she immediately says. “Of course.”

A long silence follows that, and you hear the shower turning off in the bathroom. You don’t want Jungkook to come back while you’re still talking to your mother, so you say, “Listen, I have to go now. Merry Christmas to you too.”

She wishes you goodbye, and she tells you to say hi to your dad for her. You know you won’t do it, because your mother will always be a sensitive subject when it comes to your father. But you still let her think that you will, because you don’t need to be a bitch right now.

You could be, you’re aware of it, but you think it’d upset you more than anything else. You don’t need the negativity right now.

You’re still sitting on the bed when Jungkook comes in, and it takes him one second to see your face and ask, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh, and you meet his gaze. “My mother called me.”

He looks startled, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. “What did she want?”

You tell him everything about the conversation, and once you’re done, you ask for his opinion. He sits on the bed next to you, grabbing your hand and toying with your fingers.

“I think you’re very strong, and I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself,” he carefully says. “And it’s actually a good thing that she’s in therapy, but honestly, I don’t think you need to let her back in. You don’t have to, and you should never feel forced to.”

Your eyes fill with tears, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Kook.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and even though he’s done it countless times before, it ignites a warm fire in your chest. A comfortable fire, one that can chase away any cold and darkness your mother brings to you.

“I got you,” he whispers in your hair. “Always. Whatever you need, tell me and I’ll get it for you.”

“You’re cheesy,” you tease him.

“You love it.”

You do. He knows that well enough.

You sigh, and then you sit straight once more. “Should we head downstairs? We could set up the table for Isabel.”

Jungkook nods, and he quickly pecks your temple before standing up. “How do you like the sweater?”

“You’re adorable in it,” you compliment him, standing up too. “I love it.” You wrap your arms around his waist, and he quickly hugs you back.

“Not as adorable as you, but thank you,” he says, and he giggles when you pinch his sides.

“Just take the compliment.”

He’s pouting when you look up at him. “Sorry, I can’t help myself. You really are adorable.”

You blush a little, and when he leans down to kiss you, you hold him tighter. Let him lead the kiss, though he keeps it soft and slow. It makes you feel reborn, complete, and when he pulls away, you sigh dreamily.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“Love you too,” he whispers back, and he pecks your forehead once before he leads you downstairs.

The evening ends up being a blast. You forget all about your mother as you’re laughing, chatting and eating along with everyone, with Christmas music playing in the background. When the subject of Jungkook’s exposition comes to the surface, you feel yourself turning beet red as Jungkook shows the pictures he used.

You still can’t believe he used you as a subject. Loved you enough to make you his muse, and to risk failing a project that was supposed to be a little more serious. Luckily enough, he passed with flying colours, and he even got a museum asking him to take pictures of their art for them, so they can put them on a web platform in an attempt to make their museum virtual.

Opening gifts has you all laughing till you are teary-eyed, with Louis being the receiver of most of them. You and Jungkook got him a small truck and a plush toy, and he’s been trying to fit the plushie in the truck, but so far he’s been unsuccessful.

To your surprise, Jungkook hands you a gift, a sheepish look on his features. You open it with a cocked eyebrow, because you don’t know how a trip to a winery fits in a box like this one. When you find an octopus plushie, one of those you can revert to make it happy or mad, you offer him a small pout, telling him you love it.

Luckily enough, you got him a gift too, with the help of his mother. She wanted to get him plane tickets for Korea, and asked you to give them to him. It was an awkward conversation, and you still have no idea how she got your phone number, but even with the language barrier you still managed to talk to her. She was sweet, kept saying how she can’t wait to meet you, and now you know you’re going during Spring Break.

Jungkook tears up when he sees the tickets, and he kisses you deeply in front of everyone else. Louis makes you laugh, letting out a disgusted sound and throwing his own plushie at you. It makes you pull away from Jungkook, though you keep hold of his hand for the rest of the evening. At a certain point, Isabel and you go upstairs with Louis since it’s way past his bedtime. The only way to get him to actually sleep is to tell him that he needs to be asleep for Santa Claus to come, and he begrudgingly says that he is going to try and listen for the reindeers on the roof. It’s adorable, and you refrain from telling him that the house doesn’t have an actual chimney for Santa to climb down in, refusing to be the one to kill the childish magic that Christmas still holds for him.

After that, you move to the other side of the house, to a private room with a bar, a pool table and a board game table. You settle at the board game table with Isabel, Jungkook and your father, and it’s there that your father gives you your gift, saying that he preferred not giving you that in front of Louis.

You understand why. It’s a bottle of whiskey, the whiskey you’ve seen him drink countless times growing up. You always asked him for a taste, and he always refused, saying that when you’re old enough, you’d get your own bottle. You cry a little when he pours you a drink, and then wince at the strong taste of the alcohol. Everyone laughs, and you tell your father it’s the best gift you’ve ever received, because frankly, it is.

You go to bed late that night, even though you have a dinner planned with Isabel’s family tomorrow night. You didn’t want to go at first, but since you’ve been getting along with her so well, you accept the invitation and then wish her and your father good night, before going to the room you share with Jungkook.

Jungkook groans as he plops down on the bed, face hidden in the covers. “That whiskey hit hard,” he complains.

You laugh, and you sit next to him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s strong, yeah. No wonder he never let me drink it as a child.”

“You would have died,” Jungkook agrees. He turns his head to the side, looking at you with a sweet lovesick smile on his lips. “This is fun.”

You’re confused, and your brows meet over your eyes. “What?”

He glances at the door, before looking back at you. “Everything. Your family, the vibes. Getting to spend time with you.” He pauses, then precises, “Getting to spend the holidays with you.”

You smile, scrunching up your nose shyly. “Right? I’m so happy.”

“And the plane tickets?” He looks away, hiding his face in the covers again. “How the fuck did you manage to do this?”

“Your mother called me. No idea how she got my number,” you tell him. “She asked me if I could give them to you, as a gift from us both. As if I thought of it. It was all her. But she said you’d be happier if you received them from me.”

You can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “Told you she loves you.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

He turns to lie on his back, one hand behind his head. He looks heavenly like this, and you climb on his lap.

“Oh,” he lets out.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” he says, chuckling. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“Is that so?” you tease, and you grind your hips against him.

He looks alarmed for half a second before his expression turns dark. “Oh, is that where this is going?” he asks, and his hands find your waist. “In your father’s home? You’ll have to be extremely silent.”

“Good thing we’ve got pillows, I can hide my face in one of those.”

It doesn’t take you long before you’re rid of clothes, and you’re back on Jungkook’s lap, kissing him languidly. He guides himself to your entrance, and when you sink on him, the lack of foreplay makes you wince in pain. But he soothes it right away by gently caressing your thighs, and when you kiss him again, it’s slow and sweet.

You make love that night. Like that first night at your apartment, emotions, passion and desire driving all of your moves. And for some reason, while you’re impaled on him, the lines of his poem, his dedication to you, come back to your mind.

In the forgotten space between then and now, her smile lingers. Healing, shining, like the sun after a long winter. Months that led to her, and now warmth clings to the world. The sun rays refuse to go away, and they shine ever so brightly after the darkness. Her light gives life, her smile gives hope, and her heart gives love.

You make love, hands holding his cheeks, rocking of your hips slow and steady. He reaches deep inside of you, filling you with pleasure and hope and life and love. Your forgotten space, where you’ll always meet. The forgotten space of your world ending, together. Of you and him, becoming just one for this last and first dance. Your boyfriend, your person, always and forever.

When you’re lying next to him after, you think about the months, about the hurdles. About the pain and that July night sky. About dancing, with him, about loving him. About getting to be his person, getting to spend your life with him. You think about everything, your soul filling with love – yours and his, entwined in the most beautiful tapestry. You think about his scars – the ones on his heart, on his body. The ones on your own heart. They’re beautiful, all of them. They make him, they make you, and they make the both of you together. You love him, deeply, more than you’ve ever thought you could love. You know that for the rest of your life, you’ll show him that love. Shower him with it, gift it to him without asking for anything back even though you know he’ll give it to you, no questions asked.

You know then, that you were put on this Earth for a reason. Like a fated connection – your souls meant to latch together, to mesh until they’re just one.

You can only hope that he knows it too. You hope that he knows his light gives you life, his smile gives you hope, and his heart gives you love. From this moment, until you dwindle away into the void of eternity.

You sit on the threshold of your memories, with him. Them that breathe for you. Your forgotten spaces.

Prev | Teaser for the sequel When the End Comes

☆☆☆☆☆

The way I am crying right now as I finish rereading? This story, I'm telling you... it makes me far too emotional. Thank you for accompanying me on this beautiful journey. For the last time, I'll ask you guys, what did you think? Did you like it? Was the healing enough after the angst?

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you my bad):

@pamzn | @whoa-jo | @sugaluvmyg | @kelsyx33 | @mafameal | @allisonstonex | @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs | @nadzzzblog | @bloopkook | @synnfulqt | @ggukiepie | @quarter-life-crisis2 | @amylouisecullen | @melodiesforari | @chimchimmarie | @jk-190811 | @notbotheredtho | @jjkluver7 | @chiefdreamercherryblossom | @soland1s | @kingofbodyrolls | @diorjgguk | @babycandy111 | @mindiary

[kingofbodyrolls]

Namjoon fic recs 2024 🥳

In honor of Namjoon’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Namjoon stories that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 Have I recommended these before? Yes. But I will not stop screaming about these stories because they are so fucking amazing!! I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹🥳

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’, last years Namjoon recs or  last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(💜j) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Friend or Fuck: pt1 & pt2 @joonsmagicshop [18K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 a drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ this is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭

⭐A Word from our Sponsors @ugh-yoongi [17.5K] // knj x f.reader // podcast!au, f2l, idiots to lovers  // 😂🥵🥰

📝 you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 

🗨️ okay. This. Was. Exceptional ✨🥹 It was amazing, seriously one of the best fics I’ve ever read 😭 everything just had that perfect flow, the writing was incredible, like I can’t even speak? The characters, out of this world fantastic ✨ the whole thing, just, perfect. Perfection. I don’t know what else to call it, sorry. The world building and tension was so fucking delicious I just ate it up! 😭 And their banter and chemistry was just off the charts amazing. Perfection. And it was so fucking hilarious too!! Many times I was just laughing or chuckling, like the lovesick fool I am 😂 

⭐Bookworms @hoseoksluna [4.4K] // knj x f.reader // boyfriend!namjoon // 🥰🥵

📝 Namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

🗨️ the love that they have for each other– so beautiful too! The smut? Perfect! The aftercare too— they did each other’s hair???? ��� I mean, just the perfect amount of smut, fluff and overall cuteness ❤️

⭐New Guy @kithtaehyung [5k]  // knj x f.reader // university!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance. but the new guy is completely disrupting things… or is he?

🗨️ so many feels about this one; all good and dirty ones!!! I had a feeling about the twist but I wasn’t sure. Anyway, it was extremely good, and it was so fucking HOT, like the tension, incredible! It really had me 🥵 So, so fucking good— love it 💖

⭐Holiday Shambles @ressjeon [5k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, married!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 when you have to spend time with both your parents and Namjoon’s snobby ones for this Christmas, you’re forced to show the best version of you even knowing what’s to come. you’re ready, right? after all, you’re the best wife aren’t you?

🗨️ this is so hilarious, cute and sweet 🥹 Loved it✨

⭐Entirety @btsgotjams27 [3.3k]  // knj x f.reader // slice of life!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 namjoon is the complete package, except for the fact that he won’t make the first move.

🗨️ AFGJFKGHLKFDHGJGKJHG— 🥵🥵🥵 Yes, I’ve resulted to key smashing because I’m speechless, but I’ll try to give a few words anyway: first, this was incredibly hot, I can’t even begin to articulate properly, and the writing, like I’m a so in love with the writing, like the language is so descriptive and imaginative that I can clearly imagine every little fucking detail— and the words? Well they just flow seamlessly! ✨

⭐Heart got Teeth @ugh-yoongi [12k]  // knj x f.reader // enemies to fwb to lovers // 🥵😂

📝 (or, the one where namjoon meets his match and isn’t quite sure how to handle you.)

🗨️ wow okay, love, love, love this one 😭 it’s mainly from Namjoon’s pov, which is amazing, like all he observes about oc… Gosh and their back and forth teasing, witty banter and the dynamic between dominance and losing control— so good, ugh! 🥵 It’s amazing, so if you haven’t read this one yet, I highly recommend it ✨

⭐Castaways @rmnamjoons [25.5k] // knj x f.reader // s2l, slow burn, cruise!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 you’ve always hated the ocean. Open water terrifies you, and you stay as far away from it as possible for self-preservation and peace of mind. Despite this, your friend somehow convinces you to go on a luxury cruise with her, her boyfriend Hoseok, and Hoseok’s nerdy friend Namjoon, who’s almost cute enough to distract you from your debilitating fears. When a sudden storm hits, however, you and Namjoon are swept overboard and find yourselves castaway on a desert island somewhere in the vast South Pacific.

🗨️ holy fucking shit— this was perfection 😭 A new favorite of mine, hands down. First off, the theme? Like being stranded and a castaway, so fucking good. I loved it. The whole trip, also so fun, but their banter, exceptional 👏✨ I loved how their tension build so slowly, a fantastic slowburn 🥰 I also did enjoy when the went overboard, because it made it much more realistic, and the descriptions of the event underwater was so good. Like, everything about this is so fucking amazing! And the smut, omg I’m drooling 🤤

⭐Solace @m-yg93 [13.5k]  // knj x f.reader // roommates!au, s2l // 🥰🥵😂

📝 Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

🗨️ omg 😭 This was so fucking cute, sweet, dirty and filthy 🥵 I loved it so much!!!! I loved how Yoongi called Jin and Namjoon ‘Biceps and Shoulders’ 🤣 So hilarious! This was truly just— *chef’s kiss* 😘

⭐The Sheriff @ppersonna [6.8k]  // knj x f.reader // f2l, cowboy!au // 🥰🥵😂

📝 you’ve always had a soft spot for Kim Namjoon, the local sheriff.  seems like he’s had one for you, too.

🗨️ ahhhh— the smut in this 🥵🥵🥵 Hot, hot, hot! Another new favorite! It was so good and damn, the last line of dialogue had me laughing way too much 🤣 

⭐Knock it Down a Peg @thatlongspringnight [3.3k]  // knj x f.reader // est. relationship // 🥰🥵😂

📝 thanks to an idea from Jungkook’s girlfriend, you and Namjoon decided to try something new in the bedroom.

🗨️ this was just so fucking funny 🤣 I really loved it! Like I was laughing the whole time— that’s how funny it was! A short, but very very funny read! ✨

⭐The Truth Untold @rmnamjoons [10.1k]  // knj x f.reader // bf2l // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 you’ve been trapped for months in a loveless, toxic relationship, too afraid of what would happen if you ever tried to leave. Your boyfriend gets so jealous, especially of your best friend Namjoon, who you’ve missed more than your heart can stand. Now, seeing Namjoon for the first time in weeks, you decide that it’s time to tell him everything, no matter the cost.

🗨️ ah what— this was both sad and very very sweet 😭 It’s sad, because it’s cheating— 😭 What she has with Namjoon is pure sweetness, and he is perfect for her 😭💜 I really loved it, though I have conflicted feelings about the cheating (I always have lol), but it was really good and I really liked it! It was so soft, beautiful and I love their relationship and she should just have picked Namjoon from the start!! Anyway, a really good story that will tear you up a bit. Also, just seeing the banner had me in tears already, and looking at it again, I’m already crying 😭

⭐Park and Ride @here2bbtstrash [4.8k]  // knj x f.reader // fuckbuddy!au // 🥵

📝 your fuckbuddy asks if the two of you can drive around a bit first, but he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself

🗨️ wow this was both cute and hot 🥵 There’s also a small drabble to it that can be found here: [link]

⭐Cream @luxekook [1.8k]  // knj x f.reader // est. relationship, idol!au // 🥵

📝 you thirst over the outline in the pants of kim namjoon’s iconic cream suit just one time too many, and he’s ready to make you pay for it.

🗨️ Namjoon in that cream suit— what more do I need to say? 🥵 (also loved it, in case there was any confusion on that part ✨)

⭐Don’t Want Your Sympathy @sketchguk [9.5k]  // knj x f.reader x jjk // est. relationship + threesome (kinda) // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 jeongguk is like an annoying little brother to you, but nevertheless, there’s nothing in this world you wouldn’t do for your sweet, innocent best friend. so what are you supposed to do when he wants to watch your boyfriend fuck you senseless? say no?

🗨️ fuck. I’m going feral over this one 😭🥵 First, oc being best friends with Jungkook, so much so that she and Namjoon are willing to show him how to please a woman, please, I don’t know but that must be like the ultimate friendship goal? 🥹😂 I really loved it, and all the sexual teasing and banter was just so hilarious 😂 

⭐1-Year Anniversary @johobi [7.8k]  // knj x f.reader // est. relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 your 1-year anniversary is fast approaching and you’re determined to gift Namjoon the one thing he would never dare ask for. 

🗨️ omg this was so utterly amazing and hot 🥵✨ Another favorite and I loved everything about it 💜

⭐Embrace @rmnamjoons [3.9k]  // knj x f.reader // bf2l, idol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 you and Namjoon have been best friends for years, and you’ve been secretly in love with him basically the entire time. You both love cuddling and being close, much to the amusement of your friends, but to you, being with Namjoon like this means everything. You’ve always believed that Namjoon didn’t feel the same way as you, no matter how much you wanted him to, but maybe there is actually something else behind Namjoon’s cuddles, other than just innocent friendship.

🗨️ this is so fucking soft, cute and sweet and the smut is just so tender 🥹 a really awesome read and I really love it! Might read this one again sometime ✨💜

⭐My Only Wish @ppersonna [15.1k]  // knj x f.reader // e2l, fake dating!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 there are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

🗨️ the way that I am screaming and kicking because of how incredibly awesome this was 😭✨ The tension? The built up?? God. That tension was so fucking thick and hot, I was going feral through most of the reading. I mean, what isn’t there to love in this one? Amazing, I loved it so fucking much it’s illegal 💖🥹

⭐You Set My Heart on Fire: pt1 and pt2 (series; finished) @hayjeon [21k] // knj x f.reader // one night stand, s2l, workplace!au, fireman!Namjoon + paramedic!reader // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 as a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

🗨️ holy shit this is amazing 💖 Namjoon as a firefighter? So fucking hot 🔥 oc as a surgeon turned paramedic ✨ and all the action, the tension, the friends with the whole crew and all the guys??? 🥹 Fuck. This one is amazing, another favorite! 

⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, workplace!au, single dad!Namjoon // 🥵🥰

📝 the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking amazing 🥰 I love everything about it and the plot was so fluffy 🥺 Namjoon was just so fluffy and I love his kid ✨ Such a sweet holiday fic, and even if it isn’t read around Christmas time it will bring a smile to your face. It’s truly amazing 💜

⭐Taking Flight @rmnamjoons [15.2k]  // knj x f.reader // sci fi!au, post apocalypse!au alien invasion!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 more than a decade after the alien invasion that wiped out most of the planet, you and Namjoon are both in the Pilot Cadet Corps, training for if the alien attackers ever come back. What begins as a playful rivalry between two overachievers develops into a deep friendship and emotional bond, but when the aliens suddenly return and you and Namjoon are separated, you find out just what you’re willing to do to get back to him.

🗨️ This was so fucking good, amazing! Really good backstory and world building, the dystopian universe was heartbreaking though, they lost so much 😭 but amidst it all, they thankfully found each other 🥹 it was so fluffy after all the rivalry and angst! The rivalry and banter was so funny though! I really liked that! I really loved the whole thing 🥰

⭐Love.fm @ugh-yoongi [12.4k]  // knj x f.reader // exes!au // 🌩️🥰😂

📝 you know three things for certain: jeon jeongguk will do anything to inconvenience you, kim seokjin is an absolute bastard for putting you in charge of the station’s holiday show, and you’ve got a lot of regrets about the way your relationship ended. however, you also know spending the last two years on your own has done you some good. you’ve got a new haircut, an apartment with a bay window, and a rescue dog. there’s also the stranger who keeps writing into the station about regrets of their own. the stranger whose prose feels so familiar. the stranger who leaves you wondering if things with your ex are quite as resolved as you think.

🗨️ this one is completely SFW 😘 It’s angsty, really more sad to me, with all the thoughts and feelings one could go through after a break up, but still missing that person 🥹 it was really beautiful, and I think the feelings are handled so well, how oc gradually let her friends in (the fact that she went two years without mentioning why she even got to the radio station in the first place, lol) and how her friends support her, the same with Namjoon, and how they will miss each other, but doesn’t shy from the fact that they still need to talk, work through things, but most importantly, how much they still miss each other, but are so fucking afraid of THE TALK. Gosh. All the feelings 🥹 anxiety! It was so good! The ending is very open and allows you to imagine whatever you want to the (potential) couple 🥹 So amazing, and I really loved it 💖

⭐Reflection @jimilter [18.6k]  // knj x f.reader // s2l // 🌩️🥰😂🥵

📝 when his muse ran dry, his publisher suggested Namjoon to change sceneries in order to regroup his creative spirit, and he left the big city to land in this tiny restaurant on the beach. In his quest for inspiration, he has interacted with hundreds of travelers and realized that on the beach, every life’s a movie – some he connects with, some he likes, and some leave him confused. You fall into the last category, confounding him with your sad eyes and quiet smiles; and with the way poetry flows out of him when you’re around. But what happens when things start to careen towards intense feelings, and both of you have vastly different lives to go back to? Heartbreak.

🗨️ this was so good 😭 so angsty, emotional and sad. All his observations, and then finally towards the end everything comes tumbling out 😭 it was very beautiful, heartbreakingly so, but it does have a happy ending ✨💜

⭐Don’t Read Dead Languages @sailoryooons [17.4k]  // knj x f.reader // e2l // 🌩️🥰😂🥵🪄

📝 Namjoon is determined to visit the Living City of the Dead. Amtenemhat is the Egyptian ruins that the locals fear. Archaeologists have gone missing and strange things lurk in the night. But Namjoon’s work as a historian isn’t perfect if he doesn’t go to the source of the legend, and hiring a weaponized tomb raider seems his best bet at surviving.

🗨️ another brilliant one from Hali ✨ it was so exciting, action packed, incredible lore and funny banter 💜 loved it a lot 💎

This is my little corner with my own fics— I don’t write that much (I prefer to read), but it would mean a lot to me if you checked out my work or read it. You don’t have to, it’s up to you of course 🥰

⭐Sprout (mini series; completed) [21k] // knj x f.reader // neighbors!au, s2e2l, garden!au // 🥵😂

📝 you love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate.

🗨️ I really don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this, but it’s very funny 🤣 OC is so mad and goes straight up vigilante on Namjoon (poor man), there’s stupid banter (JK is her roommate) — it’s really just a crack fic, please don’t take it seriously, but it’s one of my faves 🥰

⭐Deep Dive [19.8k] // knj x f.reader // mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au, s2l // 🥵🪄🥰😂

📝 you’ve been searching for gemstones deep on the seabed— having found a broken piece of blue aquamarine. Searching for the missing piece and your new rival, you find it and much more with the blue tailed merman Namjoon while on a quest for crystals.

🗨️ this is a new addition to my mermaid series— this Namjoon is very soft, cute, loves reading romance books (he’s a nerd and hopeless romantic okay) and he loves collecting crystals too 🥰 This is really just a spicy fantasy story 💜

And as a something little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:

Dirty Little Secret @nottodayjjk

All About You @taegularities

Trust Me, Please? (series; discontinued) @sugarwithtea

Sunshine (series; discontinued) @rmnamjoons

All I Want For Christmas is Joon @leahsfavefics

Intersect (series; completed) @shina913

Not Another Holiday Romance @kpopfanfictrash

Dino-Mite @chimcess

Just Like Candy @jamaisjoons

Cruise Control @lavienjin

Happy birthday to the best leader EVER KIM NAMJOON!!!! 🥳💜✨

[lively-potter]

— nepenthe ; jjk ; part two

— genre ; age gap, angst, fluff, smut, sheltered oc, ceo jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta )

— warnings ; please note that in the beginning, the oc is in an abusive home — and if this triggers you please do not read. the oc is of age but nothing smutty will be happening for a while — but there WILL be smut. A small bit of SA is in this chapter and if it tiggers you, don’t read.

— intro, part one

— 2024 © @LivelyPotter

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

— word count ; 2.2k

***

SOLARIS January 20th, 2024 Charleston, SC

THE NAME SENT TREMBLES OF FEAR DOWN MY SPINE.

"Chairman Jeon?" my words cut off in a whimper at the reminder of the man everyone was frightened of. It was no secret to everyone how influential Chairman or Mister Jeon was and how much power he held by being the Chairman and owner of most of the multi-billion dollar companies in the United States and South Korea; the country he was originally from.

He even owned a Gentlemen's club here, called Ataraxia, in Charleston that Father visits more often than he ought — when the Chairman allows other people in the private club one another month.

I bit down on my lip as more thoughts raced through my brain.

Chairman Jeon wasn't a man even the most courageous of people wanted to cross, and those who did were either found dead...or just disappeared into thin air. He was the kind of man parents threatened their children with when they wanted them to behave. He was the same man Father threatened me with when I wouldn't stop crying after Mama died. Chairman Jeon was the most powerful sort of man Charleston had ever seen. It was also rumored that he had strong ties to the Mafia.

A cold chill passed through me at the thought.

Most of the people who lived here were grateful he barely made appearances, since ninety-five percent of the population of Charleston worked for him.

It had been months since Chairman Jeon had been here – I reckoned he spent most of his time in Korea, where his permanent residence was.

"Go to your room, girl, and remember –" he cut himself off to glare heatedly at me, "this house had better be spotless. I won't have my friends visit a pig stye."

I jerkily nodded and without wasting a moment, I raced away from him and shot to my bedroom. The first thing I did was wrap myself in my blanket and huddle in the corner – it was something I did when I wanted to think clearly.

Picking at the skin on my lip, I hesitantly glanced out the window and sighed. This would be a nerve-wracking week.

A stuffed purple bunny sat on the edge of my bed – a stuffed animal five-year-old me lovingly named; Mr. Carrots – caused me to smile. I shivered slightly underneath my blanket, thanking god I was finally warming up – and snatched the bunny from my bed and snuggled close to its neck.

Mr. Carrots had been with me the majority of my life and he was one of the only pieces of Mama I had left.

He brought me peace and comfort when Mama couldn't. I was anxious for what the next few days would bring but I didn't have any other choice but to just let them play out the way God intended.

*** SOLARIS January 21st, 2024 Charleston, SC

THE NEXT DAY WAS MUCH BRIGHTER THAN THE LAST.

Father had left before I woke up, sniffling with the first signs of a cold. I wrapped myself in one of Father's old sweaters to keep myself warm.

Wrapping my arms around my tummy with a flinch, I knew I better pay attention when it came time for Father to come home. The last thing I needed was for him to catch me wearing his old clothes to keep me warm.

The only thing I had to do before I started taking overthink down and cleaning was to place a new bandaid on the gash on my wrist.

Doing that, quickly, stomach grumbling in hunger, I entered the kitchen with a longing glance out of the tiny window above the kitchen sink.

I had lost count of how many years it had been since I was allowed to go outside the house and explore. I reckoned it had been years. I hardly remembered what kind of places were outside but I did remember how much I loved walking through the woods with Mama, collecting pretty leaves and tiny pincones. I smiled and started to twist the ends of my hip-length hair. I still had those leaves tucked inside the old pages of one of my old storybooks that Mama used to read to me. The little pinecones were stashed inside my little trinket box, along with the little acorns – we only found those when we were lucky.

I carefully grabbed a knife from the drawer, and cut a small apple in half, and nibbled on it as I pulled long hair out of my face with a ribbon and prepared to start cleaning.

I hummed happily under my breath as I picked up the glass, scrapped knees aching but I paid it no mind.

Hours passed by in a blur and I thankfully got the entire house cleaned and dinner and snacks already presented on the table before I declared myself done.

A grin beamed across my lips as I trotted to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. My bare feet padded on the carpet as I neared the small window a foot from the floor and knelt in front of it. My hands cupped my jawline, eyes watching the sun set with a heavy heart. Tears pricked my eyes and I closed them and clasped my hands together in front of my heart and began to speak.

"Dear heavenly Father," I started off, eyes closed and head tilted towards the sky, "I thank for letting me wake up and experience another day on this earth. I thank you for keeping me safe today, and being by my side when no one else is. I ask that you please watch over Mama and let her know that I love her and can't wait to be reunited with her one day." a lone tear dripped down my cheek, "Please, dear Lord, bless me and keep me safe and continue to hold me within your arms. I know that you have a plan for me," I continued, knees shifting.

"God always has a plan, my little Solaris." Mama's voice rang inside my head. "No matter how rough life gets at times, just know that God will always be there for you and after those hard times are over...the rewards are immense and glorious."

"But please, I just want to not be afraid anymore." I sniffled, "I want the pain to stop." the tear slid down my head and dripped onto my clasped hands. "I thank you for hearing my prayer and I hope you'll answer me soon." a small smile crept upon my lips. "I guess that's all for now – oh! And could you please keep me safe tonight and when Chairman Jeon comes back, please? I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but you're the only one besides Mama that loves me and I know that you hear me when I pray...um, Thank you again! In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."

My soul lightened and my heart rate relaxed and then sped up when the noises of the front door opening. A little gasp escaped my lips and I smothered.

Don't be seen or heard, Solaris.

The voices of Father's terrifying friends had me balking in place, arms wrapping around myself to ground my trembling.

With shaky fingers, I peeled Father's sweater off my body and stuffed it underneath my bed — I'd have to sneak inside his room and put it back when he left.

I sat in the corner of my bedroom, knees pulled to my chest, and listened closely to what was happening in the living room.

The house was old and nearly falling apart, which meant the walls were thin. Pressing an ear to the wall, my eyes fluttered closed to focus. But I didn't have to listen long.

"Girl!"

Father's boom made me stand at full attention. I held my hands together to shield the shakiness from them and scurried from the room.

Soon enough, I was standing in front of Father and his friends. Two older men who gave me the creeps.

James and Stevie.

They eyed me like I was a piece of meat when they plopped down on the sofa and stroked along their bulging beer bellies.

My lips trembled, remembering their slimy touches along my legs and biceps the last time they came here.

"Get us beer."

I stood ramrod straight and nodded.

I left the living room without another word and withdrew three bottles of Modelo and opened them. Shockingly being able to juggle them in my arms, I hunched my shoulders and walked slowly back to the living room — heart thundering inside my chest.

When I returned, Father was gone and only James and Stevie were there. Their eyes latched onto me in a second and they exchanged looks.

My eyes glossed over when Stevie ran a hand through his greasy hair and mustache while licking his nearly invisible lips.

"W-Where's Father?" I asked, even hearing the unaltered fear in my croaking voice. I took hesitant steps near them and slowly handed them the beers in my hand.

It was James who answered.

"Bathroom, sweetcheeks."

I only nodded in return, internally cringing at the terrible name.

Slowly sighing in relief, I turned and placed Father's Modelo on the coffee table and stilled when I felt a hand land on my lower back.

Disgust welled in my gut as another hand landed on the exposed skin on the back of my knee and caressed my skin.

"Don't." I stiffened, terror locking my limbs. "Please." I shook my head, turning to face the men. Their faces were held in a lecherous glare as their unfocused eyes glazed over.

Stevie's hand tightened around my knee and tugged as James' hand fell from my lower back.

"Why don' you take a seat?" James asked, fingering a yellow patch on his skin, running a hand on his swollen face — probably due to high cholesterol.

"No thank you." I shook my head and mentally begged Father to come back. I felt black spots dance across my vision in a slow, swift motion.

I felt so faint.

Their touches on my body made me feel disgusted. Dirty.

Even though I hated showers because of my experience with them, all I wanted to do in this moment was go under the scalding spray and wash my skin raw in hopes I'd never remember the feeling of their hands on me. I was so scared.

"I'm tired." I tried to refuse, tugging myself further away from them.

Stevie's eyes sharpened at my blatant disregard of his desires and he locked his limbs, preparing to jump up from his seat.

A tear left my eye in relief as Father stomped into the room, loudly complaining of the PowerPoint slide they had to finish before Chairman Jeon came back.

Tomorrow.

"I swear," Father grunted, plopping down in his recliner and snatching the beer from the table. "Every time that damned man comes back — everyone freaks out."

I slowly started in his direction, body positioning behind his chair. I felt my body relax the tiniest bit being away from those two men.

Stevie took a glance at me before looking at Father, "No shit." He agreed with an eye roll.

"I just don't know what Chairman Jeon just don't stay the fuck in Korea. Where he and that gang of his belongs."

My head was hung towards the ground as I listened closely to them bashing the Chairman. Speaking of how he basically took over Charleston with little to no work.

I didn't know how much of that was true — but I also thought they were just jealous of his success. I was scared of the Chairman, but I can also give credit when credit is due.

"Go to your room, girl, and leave us." Father ordered without looking at me.

I stood at attention and jerkily nodded.

I scurried to my bedroom and locked the door behind me.

In just a few moments, I allowed myself to fall down onto the floor and claw at my skin in hopes that I would scratch away the memories.

Would tomorrow be a better day?

I prayed that it would be.

author's note ; ✨

if you want to be apart of my taglist, just let me know! thank you so much for reading! I appricate every single one of you <3

[damn-stark]

Chapter 12 Fallen Angel

Chapter 12 of Sugar

A/N- Enjoy :)

Warning- Swearing, Sweet toothing rotting FLUFF, BUT THERE'S ALSO ANGST, spoilers, long chapter, violence and mentions of blood.

Pairing- Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader, (future) Choso x fem!reader

Takes place during- Jjk 0 movie

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“…and they lived happily ever after. The end,” you finish reading and close the book.

Satori yawns and rubs her eyes from her exhaustion but instead of closing her eyes, she interjects. “Mommy, are you and Daddy happy like the woman and the man in the book?”

You blink in confusion, but smile all the same as you tuck her stray hair behind her ear. “Yes,” you assure her. “We’re very happy. Why do you ask?”

Satori shrugs. “Because,” she mumbles as her eyes droop. “Mikael from down the street says his mom and dad say that they hate each other.”

You sit back in disbelief, even though she’s always telling you the crazy things she hears the other kids say. “Well,” you mutter. “You have nothing to worry about, your dad and I love each other so much.”

Satori flashes you a tired smile, letting you lean over and press a kiss on her forehead before you stand up. “Okay now,” you whisper and turn off the lamp. “Go to sleep. Goodnight, chipmunk.”

“Goodnight mama, I love you,” she mutters.

You grin. “I love you too, to the moon and never back,” you redirect, making her giggle.

Once you step outside of her room you see Suguru push himself off the wall, and you make sure to close the door first before you pick on the matter that just happened. “Did you hear what she said?” You ask as you walk away with him at your side.

Suguru nods as he slides his hair tie off to let his long hair fall over his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says. “I heard it.”

You snicker softly before you burst out laughing over the matter your daughter told you.

“It’s not funny,” Suguru counters to try and scold you, but you can see he wants to laugh too. “We should really…” he trails off and begins to laugh as you continue to chuckle.

“Stop,” you scold him in between laughs. “It’s not funny. It’s very serious.”

“You stop,” he says and nudges you. “You’re making me laugh.”

You shake your head and stop to catch your breath. Suguru stops a bit ahead of you and turns around to look at you with a wobbly smile as he manages to calm down, but he then begins to laugh again as he sees you. Which then turns to you laughing again because he can’t stop, so the subject you were laughing about is completely forgotten.

It’s not until a bit later when Nanako and Mimiko come and find you that you finally stop.

“What are you guys doing?” Nanako blurts with annoyance. “Hurry up, we’re all still waiting!”

You both clear your throat and nod in comprehension.

“Right,” Suguru says as he breaks away from his spot. “Sorry.”

You quickly follow him to the parlor room and immediately get questioned. “What were you guys laughing about anyway?” Mimiko asks.

You draw in a deep breath and shake your head with a smile. “I don’t even remember anymore,” you say honestly.

“Hm.”

When you reach the parlor room Suguru immediately addresses your tardiness. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting, this conversation is not for children so we had to put Satori to bed. Darling, if you could please,” he refers to the board.

You pull the board out of the cabinet and show off the maps of Shinjuku, Kyoto, and the school. All of which have been marked according to how Suguru and you have planned the battle strategy.

“First,” Miguel cuts in as he stands up. “Let’s serve ourselves some drinks. I’ve brought this sweet concoction from Fiji.”

“Concoction?” You whisper to Mananmi as she takes a seat by you.

“Sounds like some kind of witch brew if you ask me,” she whispers back.

“Hey!” You actually exclaim. “Yeah, Manami’s right. The last time I tried one of your concoctions I threw up and had a hangover for over two days!” You complain.

“Wait yeah,” Nanako speaks up. “It wasn’t easy to clean up either.”

Miguel walks up to you first and hands you a glass of some kind of dark red drink. “Just drink it,” he insists.

You pull the drink up to your nose and get a hint of sweetness, so you slowly bring it to your lips and take a sip. Luckily for you, it’s not bad at all! It’s very sweet and smooth.

“Taste,” you tell Suguru as you push the cup towards him.

He looks at you with concern considering he was the one who had to take care of you last time you tried alcohol Miguel brought over to try. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’ll take care of you this time.”

“It’s really not that,” he says as he takes the cup. “I don’t want to die yet.”

You laugh softly. “You won’t, it’s good.”

“You said that last time, you almost got alcohol poisoning,” he rebuttals.

You roll your eyes and push the cup up as he has it between his lips. He groans and swats your hand away so you snicker and turn to face your family. “Anyway! Did you guys like the dumplings I made? I tried some new stuff this time,” you add smugly.

“Yeah, they were very good,” Larue mentions as he takes a glass from Miguel. “Except I only had one because someone finished them,” he mutters and points his glare at Toshihisa.

The young guy sees and looks at Larue offended. “I only grabbed five,” he defends himself.

“Yeah,” Mimiko interjects. “That was basically half to the plate.”

You smile proudly through the discussion since it means that your meal was very well-liked.

“Yeah, she only made ten!” Nanako snaps. “I didn’t even get to try one.”

“Too slow,” Toshihisa taunts, causing Nanako to stand off her seat and turn her phone to point her camera at him.

Toshihisa begins to snicker, but before she can try anything, Suguru grabs her shoulder and pushes her back down to her seat. “Okay, let’s focus,” he cuts everyone off, causing Miguel to walk to the bar with his concoction in hand.

“Y/N and I have planned out most of the strategy,” Suguru continues and gives you your drink back as he points at the board. “But of course, anyone is welcome to rebuttal and suggest a change. As of now though,” he exhales deeply and points to Kyoto. “Larue and Toshihisa will go to Kyoto, keeping the sorcerers appointed there distracted.”

Toshihisa sighs and cuts in. “Distracted for what exactly?”

“We’ll get there,” you let him know and let Suguru continue.

“As for who you'll have to face, the students of Kyoto,” Suguru says. “The staff as well, but none are much to be concerned about.”

“It doesn’t mean that you should let your guard down though,” you quickly add. “Understand?” You direct mostly to Toshihisa since he is the youngest of the two going there.

“Yes,” he sighs.

You were young once too, you wanted to prove yourself so you know how much it sucks having to be reminded. You can also sense the annoyance in his tone.

“Next Shinjaku,” Suguru continues and points to the map. “Now that’s where most of the higher grade sorcerers will be. Manami, Nanako, and Mimiko will stall the sorcerers there, while Miguel engages with Satoru Gojo in combat.”

Everyone looks at Suguru and then at Miguel with concern since they've all heard how insanely strong your brother is.

“Now listen,” you interject and sit down to cross your foot over the other. “Satoru is strong. As you all know he has the Limitless technique, which interferes on an atomic level controlling space-time with precise manipulation of cursed energy,” you explain what you know. “And what makes it all possible and him even stronger is his six eyes. Your rope will disrupt his techniques, but it won’t stop him completely, he will counter and he will continue to try and use his infinity to block your moves, so be very careful. All you have to do is stall him, so counter and avoid if that’s what you want.”

Miguel nods and doesn’t argue. “Understood, now will you explain what you two special grades will be doing?”

Suguru and you share a knowing look before he goes on this time. “They know we’ll be after Okkotsu so they’ll keep him at the school thinking I’ll be in Kyoto or Shinkaju—”

“Of course,” you cut in. “Someone will figure out that something is up when neither of us are fighting in the front lines, and my best bet is Satoru, so that’s why we need you all to stall them…”

“While we go to the school so I can kill Okkotsu,” Suguru finishes your sentence, making you smirk softly. “And so y/n can steal all 9 Cursed Womb Death Paintings kept within the school warehouse, and hidden behind Tengens barrier,” he continues to say. “We’ll need their help in the battles still to come.”

You nod. “Plus,” you add. “They don’t deserve to be stuck there. We’ll welcome them into our family.”

“Curses?” Larue queries.

Suguru shakes his head. “Half,” he corrects him. “From what I’ve read they’re half human and half curse. We’ll still need to use vessels to reincarnate them of course. But they’ve been incarnated too long, we'll help them.”

You nod in agreement and look around the group. “Any questions?” You ask.

“Yes,” Manami interjects. “How exactly will you get to the warehouse? Isn’t Tengen’s place protected by a bunch of doors?”

You nod. “Yes, but hopefully with my new technique it won’t be much of a problem,” you let her know.

“And about the stalling,” Nanako says. “Why can’t we just have a dummy to go for the both of you so the sorcerers stay there longer,” she wonders.

Suguru nods in comprehension. “Good question, and there’s a simple answer, it’ll make too much of a mess. I won’t risk that.”

The room falls silent, but there’s still one piece of doubt that adds tension. No one dares to speak it though, not out of fear that Suguru or you would get upset, but out of fear that you’d jink this entire plan.

Yet it needed to be discussed, so you bring it up quietly. “If all goes to hell and we lose, then we run. Hide. There’s nothing wrong with that,” you assure them. “Nanako, Mimiko, you guys come back home, as do you, Larue. We’ve all made sure to keep our lives wiped off any database, but keep your heads low nevertheless.”

“But,” Suguru says softly. “I have faith in all of you. We both do.”

You offer them a soft smile to reassure Suguru’s comment. And they all do look comforted by the comment, but there’s still that sliver of tension left. This time Miguel addresses it. “And if Satoru Gojo goes to you two, then what?”

You sigh deeply and let your eyes flicker to the ground before you meet Suguru’s gaze.

“Then,” Suguru says and drifts his eyes back to your family so they can see the confidence he’s trying to make you see. “We will fight him.”

That’s easier said than done. No matter what animosity there’s been neither you nor Suguru have had to actually fight against Satoru. So if it happens will your anger actually be enough to confront him?

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“Suguru?” You call out softly as you slide the door open and peek your head inside the empty room.

“Yeah, I’m in here,” he calls out softly.

You walk in and see him sitting on the windowsill that leads to the balcony. He then turns his head and meets your gaze, making the blazing sunset behind him glow around him so beautifully.

“Looking for some time alone?” You ask as you walk past the door.

Suguru shakes his head. “You’re welcome to join me, darling.”

You offer him a soft smile and walk over to him to sit on the balcony to let the sun kiss your skin and bask in the little warmth it provides during December. “Beautiful sunset, huh?” You muse as you fold your hands on the railing and rest your chin on your hands to watch the sunset over the horizon. “Makes me miss spring and summer.”

Suguru hums and then stays quiet, letting you close your eyes to just take in the soft feeling of the sun's rays on your flesh. You enjoy the silence since you know your children aren’t home to have you worried that it’s too silent. You enjoy Suguru’s presence, and bask in the comfort and peace it brings you by just being nearby.

Yet it’s his silence that soon begins to worry you. Ever since he saw Satoru, and since he declared war, he’s been quieter than usual. You’ve found him alone just pondering and it’s never worried you until now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You probe softly as you drift your eyes to him.

Suguru blinks and lets his eyes fall on you, he then sighs and averts his gaze before he speaks up quietly. “Have you ever thought about what your life would be like if you had stayed at the school?” He asks, making you slowly sit up.

“Well,” you sigh and see him meet your gaze with a curious look. “Sometimes,” you admit. “When I’m feeling nostalgic really. But honestly, there isn’t much to think about, I was going to leave regardless, whether it be after graduation or before. My place wasn’t at that school.”

Suguru hums softly and smiles. “Really? I think you would’ve made a pretty cool teacher.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah, I don’t think so. My attachment to them would’ve gotten in the way if I had lost one,” you say as you shake your head.”

“So what would’ve changed then?” Suguru asks.

You draw in a deep breath and look out at the dimming sky. “Well this,” you exhale. “I wouldn’t have this house, my career, this family, the girls or you.”

“You really think we wouldn’t have worked out if I stayed in that school?” He probes softly.

You look over at him and answer genuinely. “No. I honestly think we wouldn't have worked out. I mean I think we would’ve stayed together until I graduated, but I would’ve left with Yuki. I would’ve come back after maybe a couple of years and started my community. Our lives would’ve taken different directions.”

Suguru nods softly in comprehension. “Yeah,” he whispers. “You’re right.”

You tilt your head and redirect his question back to him. “What about you? Do you think you would have stayed there and become a teacher? Because I think you would have made a pretty damn good teacher. A hot one too. If you were my teacher I would have always paid attention.” You laugh, making him scoff in amusement and turn his head away to hide his smile.

“Well,” he says and draws out a deep breath. “I don’t think I would have stayed as a teacher, or at Jujutsu high for that matter,” he says and loses his smile, making you lose yours. “If it wasn’t that village then it would’ve been something else that made me drift away. I don’t think I could’ve stayed knowing that what we did didn’t really matter. And after Haibara I don’t know if I could have seen any more of our other friends on that same table.”

You swallow back nervously and nod. “I know what you mean,” you whisper.

Suguru holds your gaze for a moment and sighs before he goes on. “I don’t know what would have become of me exactly, perhaps I was always meant to be this, or not. I don’t know, but I know that I wouldn’t have stayed…so hey, maybe we would’ve reunited down the line.”

You hum. “You really think so?” You ask with amusement. “I don't know, I don’t think Satoru would’ve let you.”

Suguru chuckles. “What is that supposed to mean?” He queries.

“Well…you guys had some weird special bond, so I think he would’ve left with you and I don’t think he would have let you join me,” you let him know.

Suguru smiles at you. “Jealous?” He teases.

You shrug. “Just a little,” you admit and look down, immediately feeling that smile fade. “So what brought all this on? Feeling nostalgic? Regrets?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No regrets. I’m satisfied with my life and with the path I chose. I love you and the girls, you guys are the best things that have happened to me.”

You smile softly and keep looking down.

“I guess,” he continues a lot quieter this time. “I’m just pondering over what could’ve been.”

“It’s this upcoming fight isn’t it?” You ask since you’ve been wrapped around in your mind like him too.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I think it is.”

You exhale and sit in silence to let what you talked about sink in, and to feel grateful that you have him to spill your heart to. It’s not always easy, but you’re glad it’s easy with him. And it’s because of that thought, along with the others that leads you to think about what you have been debating.

And when you look up to quietly admire Suguru as the last rays of the sun kiss his face, as they cling onto his dark eyes and turn them even more beautiful as they blaze against the light, it's all clear. You can’t look past your anger, especially not after what you’re going to do. Plus this, what you’ve built depends on you giving it your all even if it’s against your brother.

And if it comes to Suguru versus Satoru…then you know what side you’ll take. It’s doubtful they’ll ever come to the point of having to kill one or other though. They’ll fight, sure, it’s a fight that’s been waiting to happen, but it’s doubtful that they could ever make a choice like that. They’re too bonded to ever make that choice, even if they’re apart.

“I have something I’ve been meaning to give you,” Suguru interjects, causing your attention to drift back to him. “I wanted to give it to you for our anniversary, but I thought it would be better now.”

You lean over and watch him pull out a small and thin book from his pocket. “What is that?” You probe excitedly.

Suguru sighs and hands you the book, and when you look down at the title you beam out of pure joy. “Wow,” you muse. “The pun book I was missing from my collection…” you trail off and chuckle before you throw yourself on him. “It’s your funeral, so I don’t want to see any eye rolls,” you point out.

Suguru returns your embrace and mutters, “yeah, yeah.”

You press a kiss on his cheek before you whisper, “thank you so much. I love it.”

“Good.”

You shift and sit on his lap now to open the book and skim through the pages. “This is amazing,” you mumble. “I love it and I expect at least a fake laugh—no one laughs at my jokes,” you grumble.

“They’re cheesy,” he rebuttals.

“That’s the point! Puns are meant to be silly, they’re puns!” You grin and go back to a page where you read a funny joke. “Okay, okay, Ladies, if he can’t appreciate your fruit jokes, let that mango.” You snort and then laugh to yourself.

Suguru scoffs. “Okay, I get it,” he assures you with an amused smile and then the fakest laugh you’ve heard.

“Aw, you suck,” you grumble and slide off his lap to walk away. “I’ll find someone who appreciates my jokes one day.”

Suguru slides off the window frame and follows after you. “Baby, you said a fake laugh was enough. I did it,” he actually laughs this time.

You peer over and stick your tongue out at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Mature,” he mutters before he quickens his pace and throws his arms around your waist.

You stop moving and begin to slide down. “No! Let go of me,” you complain as you try not to laugh. “Suguru!” You squeal as he begins to pull you up.

“I laughed,” he says between his own laughs. “Besides, who are you going to find that’s better than me?”

You stop moving and scoff. “Ew, why would you say that?”

“Yeah, I heard it and it was too late to take it back,” he mumbles before he picks you up bridal style. “The girls aren’t here, we should take advantage of that before they return.”

You smirk as you wrap your arm around his neck. “Oh? What do you have in mind? Maybe a bath, with wine to the side! Or you can help me paint my nails while we do face masks together!” You suggest excitedly.

Suguru shrugs. “We can do both, why not?”

You grin at him and then lay your head on his shoulder. He takes you to your shared room, but you actually don’t get to do any of the two things you wanted since the girls get back home earlier. However, it turns out to be better because you all huddle around Suguru and pamper him instead. He never complains about it either so it works out great each time.

Everything always works out fine when you’re with him, so this battle will work out too. It has to—no it will!

You keep telling yourself that, you keep giving yourself hope as you train, as you count the days and the time that passes.

And there’s so much that gives you hope, more than you would have felt when you were younger. You like to think that you’re not as negative now. Yet when December 24th arrives you can’t sleep, all you can think about is the different what-if scenarios that pop into your mind.

But you have to be positive because you can win. You will. And you’ll go on living your life, your great life. You will.

You sigh deeply and try to engrave that in your brain as you lie in bed in the morning. Yet the thoughts are too overwhelming and too stressful, so you get up instead. However, you stop and smile when you see how peaceful Suguru looks sleeping with his bangs over his face, and his mouth partially opened. He then moves and you think he’s going to wake up, but he just lays on his side and stretches his arm out over the empty spot you had been lying on. So you make sure to be quiet to not wake him up as you change, and then walk out of the room to wander over to the small lake that sits by your house.

Mediating often helps so you try to do that in the serenity that being outside brings you. However, no matter how strong you’ve gotten, no matter how many other fights you’ve fought, none of it really gets easier. The stress of it, the running thoughts. And now there’s more at risk; the twins, your family, even your friends and old cherished companions on the other side…

When did it come to this? Fighting against each other.

You sigh and lay back on the shore with a lit cigarette in your mouth. You close your eyes to try and clear your mind, listen to the howling wind, and feel the cold breeze unfurling over your face.

There isn’t a moment of hesitation or regret, it just doesn’t really get easy. But after this fight, you’ll be one step closer to achieving your goal. Maybe then you can talk to Satoru again…maybe.

“No matter how hot you run you can still get sick you know!” You hear Suguru shout.

You smile and open your eyes to look back, catching him upside down with his hand behind his back as he approaches you.

“It’s cold y/n, come inside,” he tries to advise you, but you just sit up and pull the cigarette out to watch the ducks on the still water.

“I’m just,” you talk loudly so he can hear you. “Thinking.”

Suguru stops behind you and nudges your ass with his foot. “Get inside, you’ll freeze out here,” he repeats himself.

You show off your burning cigarette before putting it between your lips to draw in a drag, letting him know that you’re not out here to train or for fun. You’re stressed. You picked up the habit of stress smoking in school after he offered you a cigarette once.

“We’re going to be outside later, you know,” you remind him. “It’ll be a lot colder then.”

“Well you'll be moving then, you're not now,” he rebuttals.

You hum and stand up, but you offer him a drag. He sighs and takes the cigarette to draw in one drag before giving it back to you.

He wants to ask what’s wrong but you begin to walk around the lake. He would’ve insisted on going inside, but he sighs in defeat and has no other choice but to follow you. “You can stay, you know,” he interjects. “The Cursed Womb Death Paintings can be taken further down the line.”

You shake your head and exhale the smoke before responding. “I’m not feeling any kind of hesitation or anything, I’m just overthinking the outcome,” you mutter. “I know I shouldn’t, Yuki says I can’t. I just need to fight. Use your mind and your heart, she says. You’ll be stupid to use one or the other, but I…it’s just a part of me…worrying about what might happen, or what might not.”

Suguru exhales and nods slowly. “Think of it like water,” he says. “You raise it as you inhale when you’re practicing your different forms, right?”

You look at him and hum in agreement.

“Let the stress rise, and bring it back down like the wave of water you pick up and slowly drop,” he adds and looks over to meet your gaze with a soft smile.

“Okay,” you mumble and nod along as you throw the cigarette down and smush it with your foot.

“We’ll win,” he continues to assure you. “And we'll be one step closer to our dream.”

That’s what you said.

“If only we could achieve it now, huh?” You muse as you look at the water you’re passing by.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But it takes time. Soon though, I promise you that.”

You reach over and take his hand. Suguru glances at you and you then stop the both of you to cup his hands, noticing now as you take his other hand that he’s holding a hibiscus flower.

You smile, but let him continue to hold it as you cup his hand and hold his dark eyes. “Just…promise me you’ll live. I can’t do this without you, you know that?”

Suguru flashes you a charming smile and pulls one hand away to tuck the beautiful red flower over your ear before he slides his hand down and caresses your cheek. “I will, don’t worry about me, okay? I worry about you.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Suguru,” you scold quietly.

Suguru cups your cheek and pulls you closer. “I’m not being selfish,” he says what you’re thinking. “I’m assuring you, stating facts…”

You giggle softly and lean towards his touch.

“It’s just a simple mission,” he adds. “Get Rika and go. No one will get hurt. We will be back home just in time to put our daughter to bed. And then we’ll count the days to celebrate eleven years of being together.”

You grin at him and can’t help but embrace him, just to relieve yourself of the stress with the warmth of his body, with the smell of his scent that clings onto every inch of him, and with the softness of his long hair that falls over your hands. He hugs you back and presses kisses on the top of your head before he rests his chin on your head.

Once a moment passes, when your mind is somewhat clear and your heart isn’t racing, you pull back and continue to smile. “Eleven years, huh?” You mumble and begin to walk back home hand in hand. “It’s fucking crazy. Who would've thought, huh?”

“Me,” Suguru says with a smirk. “Not you?”

You smirk and shrug. “I could’ve been dating Orlando Bloom, or I don’t know, maybe someone else with long hair and a charming smile.”

Suguru chuckles softly before he pulls to the side and digs in his hoodie pocket to pull something out.

“Eleven years ago,” he muses. “I gave you a Christmas present because I liked you.”

You grin before you gasp as you try and guess what he has for you. “Oh my god, Sugar, is it another engagement ring? Because maybe I got you something shiny too.” You hint.

Suguru narrows his eyes and you flash him a cocky smirk. “What is it?” He probes.

“You’ll have to wait to find out,” you tease and look down at his hands as he shows a small firefly pendant.

“I gave you two pendants before, but I haven’t given you one for Satori, so here,” he says and grabs your hand to place the pendant with the two other smaller ones that represent the twins, and then the bigger firefly pendant that came with the red string bracelet he gifted you eleven years from ago.

“Wow,” you whisper. “I love it. Your present is—”

“It’s okay I want to be surprised,” he assures you since he knows you get excited when he gets surprised by the things you get him.

“Well,” you move on. “Thank you then. I really love it.”

When Suguru ties the bracelet back around your wrist he steals one kiss from your lips before he continues to walk with you back inside.

“Now,” you mention. “Let’s hurry back inside because I am cold!” You hook your arm around his and pull him back inside with you.

When you get inside you see the twins eating breakfast as they watch TV, but you notice that Satori isn’t up. And she also didn’t come to greet you at the door either.

“Bunny,” you direct at Mimiko. “Where’s your sister?”

Mimiko drifts her gaze to you and then points to the stairs. “In her room,” she says. “She doesn’t want to get up.”

You share a concerned look with Suguru before you both head to your daughter's room. You make sure to knock first once you reach her door, but she doesn’t answer so you slowly open the door and walk in.

“Hello?” You make yourself known as you notice that her lamp light is on. “Chipmunk, is everything okay?”

You walk further inside and see her snuggled up under her blankets and with her tiger curse lying beside her.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with worry even though you’re beginning to see through her little act. After all, she knew everyone was leaving later today to do a mission, she knew she couldn’t come so she’s trying to make you stay.

“My head and tummy hurt,” she whispers in a fake hoarse voice. “And I think I’m hot too.”

Suguru and you share a knowing look, but you still crouch by her side and feel her forehead. And like you assumed it feels normal.

“Why don’t you come feel, Suguru,” you lure him over, causing her to hold her blanket tighter against her as she watches her dad crouch beside you.

When he feels her forehead and notices the same thing you did, you smile at each other before he sighs and looks at his daughter with pity. “Well maybe we should take you to the doctor, you have every sickness in the book, don’t you think, darling?” He asks you.

You nod. “Yeah. And she needs some medicine and tea too.”

“No!” Satori cuts in with her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Just…stay with me all day and I’ll feel better I promise.”

Suguru offers her a genuine smile and leans over to caress her cheek. “We won’t be gone long. We’ll make it back for bedtime,” he tries to assure her. “I’ll tuck you in and when you wake up again we’ll be here.”

Satori pouts and her eyes fill with tears, so he continues.

“And I’ll tell you what, after we come back, you get to tell us where you want to go for our trip,” he lets her know. “You pick anywhere and we’ll go.”

Satori’s lips tug to an excited smile and her eyes seem to almost glimmer. “Really?” She asks, forgetting she’s pretending to be sick. “Even Disney? Or the beach?!”

Suguru and you share a look before he nods. “Yeah, anywhere, but maybe…not with so many people, hm?”

“Daddy, no! You said anywhere.”

Suguru sighs in defeat. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll think real hard all day,” she says. “And I’ll tell you when you come back.”

Suguru nods. “Yes, deal.”

Satori grins and sits up to throw her arms around his neck, making him hug her back and pick her off of bed as he gets up.

“Why don’t we go downstairs?” You suggest as you get up to head out the door. “Then again, maybe Satori can stay here. You must not feel hungry since you’re sick…” you trail off and smirk.

“Well,” she mutters. “Maybe I’m a little hungry.”

Suguru laughs softly at his daughter's antics and proceeds to spoil her all day long. And all day long she followed the both of you everywhere, like a little shadow. After a while, she forgot she was sick, but when the time came to leave, she put her act on again like a little movie star.

Nevertheless, you continue to assure her one last time.

“We’ll be back okay?” You assure her before you shoot her an assuring wink and a thumbs up.

Satori grins and winks back at you, but with both eyes and then throws a thumbs up.

You grin, and she whispers. “I’ll miss you.”

You touch your heart and then press a kiss on her head before you redirect her comment, “me too. I love you to the moon and never back.”

Satori giggles. “I love you too, mama,” she says softly.

You proceed to step away or you will feel bad and stay with her. Albeit Suguru continues to go on to say his goodbye, and your heart swells with so much joy when you see them interact that you almost want to make you both stay. But you don’t, you resist.

“I’ll make it back for bedtime,” he assures her and cups her cheeks. “And I’ll be expecting an answer for our trip, okay?”

Satori frowns and her eyes fill with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he tells her softly. “It’s okay, my little love. I’ll be back.”

Tears fall down her cheek, but she tries to act tough and wipes it away. “Okay,” her voice quivers. “Goodbye, Daddy.”

Suguru presses a kiss on her forehead and then hugs her tightly. “Bye, Satori. I’ll see you later.”

“You'll take care of mommy?” She whispers, making Suguru smile wider.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of her. We’ll be back,” he says again and pulls back to brush her bangs back. “I love you.”

Satori grins. “I love you too, Daddy,” she says happily.

Suguru gets up and begins to walk away. She waves at him, and he spares her one last glance before he turns away.

“Bye Nana, bye Mimi,” she waves at her sisters before they join their group, leaving you lingering behind alone.

“Bye, my girl,” you tell her one last time. “I’ll call when we’re on our way home. Okay?”

She nods and holds onto Belinda and her tiger curse as she watches you follow Suguru. When you climb on Suguru’s bird to fly to the school, you both wave goodbye to her one last time.

——

*LATER*

All you ever wanted when you were young was a big family, a big loving family like those you’d see in movies, those you’d see when you’d go out. A family who didn’t shame you, or turn their back for what you lacked. You wanted friends who would have your back. And you wanted a love that will always last.

It sounded so foolish then, such a simple deep desire, but you lacked it, you lacked a parent's love and a family’s warmth, you only had your brother. So when you had a taste of that sweet desire when you came to Jujutsu High as a student eleven years ago, you didn’t want to let go.

But you did, you let go and you found more, you relished in that love you so deeply wished for, you didn’t find pain, instead, you found simple moments full of joy and love. It was at the expense of others you so deeply cherished, but you can admit that it was worth it to get what you wanted. And when you got it you said you wouldn’t return to a place that reminded you of the pain you later endured in your young years, but here you are now, on a roof as you sneak in with Suguru.

Here you are now ten years later watching the happy memories of then haunting the places you would be at and the places you'd walk through, with the intent to oppose the same side you had fought with once before.

All to protect the family you formed along the way. And most importantly to accomplish a new deep desire for a better world so sorcerers like you don't have a chance to experience the pain you endured.

How odd is that?

“Emerge from darkness, blacker than darkness,” Suguru chants as he raises his hand to do the hand symbol to lower a veil. “Purify that which is impure.”

A white veil emerges and quickly surrounds the school grounds, trapping him, you, and Okkotsu.

“Besides Okkotsu we have to avoid killing any sorcerer that may be here,” Suguru reminds you as you move down the roof now that the veil is drawn.

“I know that,” you mutter, and then jump off the roof and swiftly land on the ground. When Suguru lands beside you you begin walking down the same way for now.

“Except if that Zen’in girl is here,” Suguru grumbles. “You can kill her and we'll rid ourselves of one more monkey.”

You roll your head to the side to shoot him a glare. “She’s like Toji, you know. It’ll be exciting to see how strong she gets as she keeps getting older.”

“It won’t be,” Suguru retorts as he watches out for anyone who might be after you now that you made yourselves known. “That guy was hard to kill before, I’d rather not deal with that again later down the road.”

You hum and nod. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“But if you come across her,” he adds as he senses your hesitation. “Then you can spare her. You can’t ask me to do the same.”

You shake your head and can’t help but let your lips pull to a small smile. “I never would. Now is he near or what?”

“Okkotsu?”

“Satoru,” you correct him. “I’d rather not deal with him right now.”

Suguru scoffs. “How am I supposed to know?” He quips.

You smirk and shrug. “I don’t know, maybe you have, like, a Satoru radar. You would. You guys are weird like that.”

Suguru looks at you with a pointed look that makes you smile and snicker.

“Well,” Suguru sighs, “I don't know where he is, but knowing him he’ll probably come here late. He would’ve caught up with us otherwise. Let’s take advantage of his absence.”

You hum and yawn as you stretch your arms out. “It’s been a while since I’ve fought another sorcerer,” you mention. “This should be fun.”

“Need I remind you of your mission,” Suguru makes himself clear, causing you to sigh. “Take them and get out.”

You nod lazily. “Yeah, yeah, I remember, but there’s a chance I might run into guards, so I’m looking forward to it. And for now, I am helping you until we know there’s a clear path to the warehouse.”

Suguru exhales deeply at your persistence to not listen, but he doesn’t argue with you or force you to actually listen, so he just speaks kindly instead. “If Tengen puts up some fight to protect the warehouse, just get out.”

You smile softly. “Doubting me?” You ask even though you know that’s not it.

“No,” Suguru says immediately. “I’d rather not have you run that risk. Not without me there at least. Who knows what Tengen is capable of, you’re strong but, you’ll be in his territory. You understand that right?”

You nod. “I do, I'm just giving you a hard time…you be careful too. No matter how strong you are, you're not invincible. I want to go home with you after this is over.”

Suguru meets your gaze and offers you a kind smile. “I’m always careful.”

You mirror his smile and hold each other's gaze for a lingering minute before you enter a big empty courtyard.

You knew you wouldn’t find anyone here, no matter how big this school is, not even half of it is actually filled with people. Yet you did expect to come across some curious person. It’s almost worrying how quiet it is.

Almost though, because as you get halfway through the courtyard the Zen’in girl appears with a spear in her hand. When Suguru spots her he looks disgusted as he begins to nonchalantly rub his neck.

“You’re here?” He asks as she approaches bravely.

“Is it a problem if I am?” She retorts. “What the hell are you two doing here?” She asks and points the spear at Suguru and you.

Suguru shifts into a fighting stance, while you roll your shoulders back and just clench your hands to fists.

“Sorry,” Suguru says as he summons long and red centipede-like curses. “But we don't have time to chat with monkeys. Me or you darling?”

You step back. “Go ahead,” you encourage him.

Suguru’s smirk deepens, and with a quick mental command, the curses hurl themselves at her.

The Zen’in girl runs forward and just as one curse is going to bite her she slides down and skillfully uses her spear to slice the curses stomach. It doesn’t die though, it disappears through the ground pretending it did, while the other curse swoops back around and goes after her as she gets up to her feet and charges at the two of you.

Rather than moving out of the way, you stay where you are and wait for her to get close with a growing smirk. And once she’s close enough she jumps up and pulls her spear up.

You remain where you are, so she takes advantage of that and swings the point of her spear down to try and stab you as she gets pulled back to the ground. But you’re faster than her, so instead you swing to the side and rather than using your technique, you manage to throw your hand up to grab her by the throat harshly.

The girl chokes and drops her spear to try and pull your hand off, but you smirk deeper and pull your other fist back before you throw it up, and punch her in the gut so hard you hurl her out of your grip and into the air.

Within seconds you counter and use her technique now to gather wind around your left foot before you shift your body. You then proceed to swiftly swing your left leg around and hurl the wind out to roughly lash her to the ground.

Nevertheless, even as she hits the ground and blood begins to leak out of her head, she slowly pushes herself up and makes you grin with pride. She then fists her hands, but she doesn’t get to move because the curse that was after her jams into her and throws her down, and then the other curse that had hidden comes out from under her and closes its jaw around her to throw her past Suguru and you.

This time she doesn't try to get up, she goes unconscious, and the blood that was leaking out begins to spill out and form a pool around her. The curses he summoned disappear and you approach the girl to check for her pulse.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s dead,” Suguru interjects. “Not her at least.”

You ignore him and when you feel a faint pulse you sigh and stand back up. “Do you want me to go or stay with you?” You break your silence and step away from the girl to turn and face him.

“Go,” he declares as he walks to you. “I don’t want to risk having more people show up and give you a hard time. The quieter you get to the warehouse the better.”

You sigh and wait for him to reach you so you can say your goodbye. Yet just as he gets close he freezes.

“Oh?” He says and grins whilst he continues walking to you. “Someone made a hole in the veil.”

You gasp softly and only think of one man. Satoru. Can it be him?

“Nothing ever goes quite as planned,” Suguru adds and steps on the pool of blood as he continues towards you. “It should take them five minutes from the point of entry to be here.”

Rather than saying your goodbye and proceeding to leave, you fall beside Suguru to stay and help him. At least until you know if it’s Satoru or if it’s someone else with reinforcements. Or until he says otherwise.

“Should we ignore them,” Suguru continues as he rubs his chin. “Or should we take care of them? It’s so hard to decide.”

You part your lips to share your suggestion, but just before you can the wall at Suguru’s side explodes and sends out a cloud of dust and a bunch of debris. And through it pops out the Panda.

He got here fast so it means he took the shortest route here.

“Not bad,” Suguru says.

The panda responds by trying to punch him, but he swiftly slides back. The panda then spots you and tries the same thing, but you mirror Suguru’s actions and move away from the panda. You then manipulate the air to gather some of the smoke together and create a screen to hide behind.

Instead of staying hidden though, you run forward to surprise him. And just as you pop out of the smoke screen you notice that the panda is distracted so you jump up, and then spin around to kick the panda towards Suguru. “Focus,” you scold the panda.

Suguru then meets the panda halfway to punch it down and crash through the ground. However, the panda quickly recovers and just as Suguru was going to throw him back to you, the panda wraps his arms around Suguru and slams him to the ground.

Your husband acts quickly and gets out of the panda's grip before hurling himself back. The panda then turns and tries to charge at you, but you manipulate the air to wrap around your fist. And just when the panda gets close you throw your fist out and send a torpedo of air that sends him flying back before he can even touch you.

Just as he’s in the air though, he lets out a loud roar and grows more muscles on his body. He even grows fangs on his bottom jaw, and his eyes glow purple as they narrow into a fierce glare. But rather than continuing to attack you, he turns and runs to Suguru, as your husband approaches. The panda then proceeds to jump up and zips towards Suguru, but he misses as Suguru jumps on the roof.

The Panda doesn’t fall behind though, he follows Suguru at a much quicker speed than before and envelops his fists with cursed energy to try and hit Suguru, but with every punch he throws, Suguru swerves with ease. You on the other hand step back and jump on the roof across from them to keep out of the way.

And this should be your chance to leave while the panda is distracted, but you sit down instead. He is a cursed corpse after all so you are curious how strong it is, so you watch and see Suguru return to the courtyard and pull out some ugly-looking leech curses.

The panda lands in the courtyard too and manages to crush the curses with ease, but they only serve as a distraction so Suguru can get around him. “Predictable,” Suguru throws at the panda.

The panda lifts his head. “Because it was a feint,” he rebuttals as he turns around and pulls his fist back. “Drumming beat!”

You smirk and lean forward, and watch Suguru pull out another one of the previous curses. However, this time the panda manages to punch through the curse and throws Suguru back, causing you to quickly stand up and cry out with concern. “Suguru!”

The panda snaps his head towards you and runs at you. Yet before he can try and actually reach you, Suguru yells out at the panda, “eyes on me!”

You look over at Suguru again and see him summon out more of those long curses to throw them at the panda. So the panda has no choice but to pay attention back to Suguru to destroy the curses after him.

You now attempt to hop off the roof, but before you can, in the distance you spot the cursed speech user approaching. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you, so you quickly hop off the roof and approach Suguru as he hurls the Zen’in girls' spear through the panda from afar.

“That was close,” Suguru tells him.

“Same to you.” The panda counters.

“Someone’s approaching,” you let Suguru know as you gather the water that’s in the air while the panda slowly goes down.

And just as you predicted, the moment the panda hits the ground, the cursed speech user appears from behind the panda and yells out, “plummel!”

You clap your hands together and quickly shield Suguru and you with a blanket of water.

The sound waves from the boy's cursed technique only cut deep through the ground around you, and just throw out a thick cloud of dust since the water you hold protects Suguru and you.

“Hey!” You yell out at the boys.

As the dust clears you see the cursed speech user on his knees, and the panda behind him holding his shoulder. And they both share the same horrified look.

“Did they not teach you anything?!” Suguru shouts out smugly, and you bounce off his comment just as smugly.

“Water absorbs sound!” You proceed to move the water that's shielding you around Suguru and you, and then gather it into an orb in front of you.

“Which means…” you trail off and shoot the orb out. The boys try to move, but the water orb hits them, and the sound trapped inside damages them instead. Not as much as it would’ve hurt Suguru and you, but it knocks them out and cuts them.

“Thank you,” Suguru interjects and makes you snap your eyes away from the students unconscious on the ground—“you really saved me just now.”

You turn and face him with a growing smile. “Don’t mention it. It’s what we do.” You brush him and flash him a wider smile.

Suguru smiles softly and nods. “I know, but still. Thank you.”

You sigh and lose your smile. “Maybe,” you interject quietly. “You need me by your side when you face Okkotsu. He won’t go down without a fight, you can use my help.”

Suguru closes the small gap that was left between each other and cups one of your cheeks. “No,” he says. “You go, do what we planned. I’ll be okay.”

You let out a shaky breath and he cups your other cheek. “Go,” he insists. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll meet up with you where we agreed, okay?”

You drop your head and hesitate, so he presses his knuckle under your chin to lift your head so you can meet his dark eyes. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t either, you just hold his soft and loving gaze, and as if it were magic you feel comforted by his look alone.

“Suguru,” you whisper.

He leans in and begins to kiss you softly to only deepen that comfort. You don’t kiss him back right away, you savor the sweetness of his lips and cherish the softness and warmth of them. When you slowly grab his jaw you pull him closer to finally kiss him back with more passion and with longing. He wants to pull back so you can go, but you pull him back and linger in the kiss until you want to pull away.

“Be careful,” you tell him once again.

Suguru offers you a smile and nods. “I will,” he reassures you. “You be careful too, hm?”

You brush a strand of his long hair over his shoulder and nod. “I will be,” you whisper and slide your hands off his jaw to step back before you stay. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll see you,” he repeats.

You let out a deep breath and hold his gaze for another lingering minute before you turn and walk away. You’re tempted to look back, but you know that if you do you’ll begin to think about staying to help him, so instead, you quicken your pace. It’s only once you’ve turned into a different path that you walk slower and realize that this damned school really hasn’t changed a bit.

The same buildings remain here, they look like they’ve been kept up to date, but besides that, there’s nothing new. How do they expect kids to learn and continue to live if they don’t change? What a pity.

Nevertheless, just like expected you don’t run into anyone either since they all should be in the city. But you would have preferred to run into obstacles, as you wander through the school grounds you remember your youth and you begin to feel all nostalgic because it really hasn’t changed…

It makes you wonder if yours and Suguru’s initials are still carved on the tree by the pond you’d like to sit by. It’d be nice to add your daughter's initials on there now too. Hopefully, once Suguru and you both are done you can do it since you did agree to meet up there.

As for now though, you really need to stop daydreaming and focus on your plan. Thus, you also try to strain your ear to try and hear if Suguru might be fighting, but you’re too far from where you left him, you can’t hear or feel a thing.

Hopefully, he’s okay though.

Nevertheless, when you reach the building that leads to the warehouse and Tengen’s tomb, of course, you come across two guards.

“Stop right there Y/N Gojo!” A guard shouts as he pulls out his metal flail and lets the metal ball fall.

You look at the both of them unamused and retort. “Fighting you two would be no challenge so don’t embarrass yourselves.”

The other guard begins to unsheath two blades, and the one with the flail points his finger at you. “We’ve been ordered to kill you,” he sneers.

You scoff and smile. “Come at me then,” you encourage him. “I’ll give you the first shot.”

The man with two swords charges at you and jumps up to swing his blades down at you, but you run forward and slide down toward the other man.

When the man with the flail sees you he tries to catch you off guard and swings the metal ball down, but you're faster than him, so you swiftly get back on your feet and stand behind him.

“Boo,” you whisper in his ear.

The man with the flail jumps. “What the hell,” he gasps, and then turns back whilst he swings his flail, but you catch the chain and wrap it around your wrist to yank him towards you.

Once he's close you fist your hand and throw him a right hook before you snatch his own flail out of his hand and swing the ball across his face, managing to knock him out, and leaving only his partner left. And just like before he charges at you and swings his blades, but you swerve each one and only get him more upset.

When he charges at you a third time he’s faster, so you let him reach you. However, when he swings this time you meet his blades with the metal ball and then use your foot to kick him back. The man drops his blades at the moment of impact, so you drop the flail and stride over to kick his face and knock him out.

Just like you told them that was no challenge. The real challenge is when you get inside the building and find a thousand doors.

Only one leads to where the warehouse will be. And you’ve prepared, but you don’t know the consequences that destroying the doors could lead to. The last time you came here you were allowed here when you were hoping to find Suguru and Satoru, so the correct door was open. This time they’re all closed, they’re around you, above you, below you, it’s like being in some dark abyss and only doors keep you company.

But you can do this. You can.

You roll your shoulders back and tap into your fire, causing the dragon around your arm to glow red as fire comes out of your palms.

“Cursed technique, fire dragon,” you mutter and begin to fill the dark room with the burning light of your fire-made dragon while you form its large body outward. “Cursed technique, fire snake,” you add and use your other hand to flow fire out and form a large fire-made snake.

“Now,” you sigh. “Let’s hope this works,” you mutter.

You put your hands together and combine the dragon for its fire breath ability, and the snake for its ability to burn away cursed energy, and create a large fire-made Wyrm that lights the room so bright it looks like a sun. Its body grows horns like a dragon, it grows an incredible and ferocious jaw like your fire-made dragon, it grows a tongue and a long slithering body like a snake.

It’s a new technique you discovered while training with Yuki. She helped you realize your full potential in ways the school or your family never could. She made you the sorcerer you are now, you owe a lot to her.

“Now,” you continue and smirk. “Cursed technique, Fire Wyrm!”

You send the Fire Wyrm out and it opens its jaw to blast fire out and bathe every door with bright and hot flames as it flies around the void. The fire grows so hot you begin to grow uncomfortable because unfortunately, you aren’t immune to fire. You can tolerate a lot more than the average person, but there’s a chance that you could die by fire.

Luckily though, this time isn’t the day your fire took you out. Instead, you watch in awe as the fire burns away the cursed technique that was keeping the fake doors up, leaving only one that was too strong for your technique to destroy. Just like you had theorized.

And thankfully there’s no counterattack either, so you return the fire back to you and slowly open the door. When you walk in you see the forest-like room you came across before, and this time just across the door is the warehouse.

You had not even batted an eye to the warehouse before, you had no interest in it because you were too caught up in your own worry to even pay any mind to it. Eleven years later here you are walking to it without caring about the tomb.

When you reach the warehouse though, you see a lock on the metal door.

“What to do?” You ask yourself and glance around the forest until an idea hits you.

You crouch down and wrap your hand around the lock to use your fire to burn it away. Luckily, the lock isn't immune to your fire and melts away, letting you pull the door open.

When you walk inside your breath catches as you find yourself impressed by what’s inside, by how large the warehouse really is compared to how it looks outside. And every inch of it is covered with cursed weapons and cursed objects of every grade.

In theory, you could use it all against the school, use it to win your battle, but you’re only here for one thing, the 9 Cursed Womb Death paintings.

They stand all the way in the back in glass flasks that stand on podiums that are basked by such a dim light that you can’t even shape what’s inside the flasks. When you approach them though, you gasp as you see nine fetuses, all different shapes and different sizes, but they’re all just fetuses…

Maybe it’s the intimidating name, but you expected something scarier. They’re harmless—in this state of course. When they’re incarnated in their vessels though, they’ll grow into intimidating humans with strong techniques, and hopefully, they’ll help your cause.

“You’re not so scary,” you mutter as you crouch to look at the first cursed womb death painting through the glass. “Don’t worry…” you trail off and grab the flask to turn it and read the label stuck to the glass. “…experiment number 1, Choso.” You smile softly at it. “I’ll get you out. All of you,” you add softly.

The fetus opens its little eyes and you jump up. “Fuck,” gasp out of fear. “Unexpected.” You exhale and laugh softly to yourself. “Anyway. Let’s go home, Choso.”

You tuck it in the bag you brought and move down the line to tuck the rest of them inside. And when you’re done you’re about to turn to head out, but then the sound of a familiar voice makes you freeze.

“Are things really that bad that you’re resorting to stealing now…”

Satoru.

“…Sister.”

You clench your jaw and swallow back thickly as you grow annoyed and angry at the sound of his voice, and at the feeling of his presence so close to you.

You had seen him not so long ago, but it wasn’t the same, there were people between the two of you, his attention was wavered, and neither of you had the intention to get close or attack. This time, it’s just the two of you alone and you know there's only one thing you will have to do. Something you’ve never had to do because you both know you wouldn’t just drop what you took without a fight, you wouldn’t leave without one.

Is that what fills your eyes with tears then? That knowledge? Or is it the anger that’s flowing back in as the memory of him leaving you behind ten years ago resurfaces as if it happened yesterday?

“Y/N,” he calls out your name in that same nonchalance he would always say your name so many times before. It would annoy you sometimes. But this time it’s different, he’s acting like he didn’t break your heart, as if nothing happened. This time it infuriates you.

And when you slowly peer back over your shoulder you display your anger through your furrowed eyebrows and narrowed glare, and through the angry tears that fill your eyes.

“Brother,” you mutter coldly.

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.

.

.

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A/N- Don’t think about how if Satori sees her dad again it’ll actually be Kenjaku

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno

[sashisuse]

okay i read it, so here are some thoughts on satoru gojo. jjk 261 spoilers under the cut.

i think there is something do disgustingly devastating about the fact that satoru has been nothing more than a weapon for jujutsu society his entire life.

he’s not human to anyone (hold on i’m getting to them) for the majority of his life. he grows up and is revered because he’s the first person in centuries to be born with the six eyes. he’s a child god. he has never had any sort of autonomy over his life.

and then he gets to high school and meets suguru and oh. my. god. suguru geto is one of the only people to have ever seen satoru gojo as anything other than the six eyes.

it is so extremely tragic that satoru cannot have any sort of peace, even after death, because his body is being used as a puppet basically by yuta. and please, this is not in any way any type of slander toward any character here. it’s just my thoughts and analysis.

these people all do value satoru but at the end of the day, they were all inevitably down with it. yes, it’s important to note that hakari said this was the very last last LAST resort. that kusakabe said this wasn’t humane. and what really sticks with me the most is that yuta was the one who pointed out that satoru has been forced to be a monster for most of his life. and now yuta is the one saying he’ll take it over, he’ll be the monster so that satoru doesn’t have to anymore.

omfg this is probably really jumbled and not very coherent. my brain is mush right now and i’ll post something better later so i apologize but thanks for bearing with me at the moment 😭

anyway. where was i

okay yeah. the conversation we see between yuta and satoru hurts me too. where he says two things that stick with me. 1. ‘i was mostly surprised shoko was okay with it’ and 2. ‘i don’t really care what happens to my body’.

because it is absolutely devastating to me that satoru has been conditioned to a point where he doesn’t care what happens to his body. and he brushes it off to with stuff like ‘oh it’s fine i don’t care because i’m not going to lose’ but… he admits to suguru in the airport that he wasn’t going to win. and so… AGH.

it just keeps taking me back to this one line i wrote in one of my fics.

( “I don’t want you to be the Strongest,” she told him once. She frowned and said, “I just want you to be Satoru.” )

i’m in so much pain. i’m so sad. my brain is mush. i will talk more about this later. probably. i need to go find some comfort fics to read or something. or maybe sleep because i’m writing this at 12:30 am 😭

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: Obscure Head Canons (and Hypotheses) You’d Probably Develop When Reading the JJK Light Novels, Pt 1

For an anime with literally no filler episodes 🥹... the first light novel provides a brief insight into the days before (and behind the scenes of) the trauma. As someone who thrives on the misery of being a JJK fan, would the experience be complete without them? The answer doesn't matter because everything you need is below the jump! I saved my biggest theory for last so hop to the end for it.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning for Jujutsu Kaisen Summer of Ashes, Autumn of Dust and season 2 of the anime (manga spoilers are vague at best).

Head Canon: Gojo is the Riddler Purely For His Own Entertainment ✨

As someone who can process things the way a Six Eyes holder probably can, there’s no way he allows Yuji and Megumi to get the drop on him during their surveillance of sensei on his day off. But he takes them around (at a distance) doing silly things like record stores and maid cafes because I think it prompts them to enjoy things they wouldn’t. Especially Megumi. It’s kind of sweet, both their inherent curiosity about him but also lonely the way that he explores his whims so far removed from everyone else. It really highlights that “Who is Gojo Satoru?” question when you realize even Megumi’s interest was lowkey piqued at the possibly knowing a bit more about Gojo.

In the second story, Gojo speaks in straight up nonsense (think Mad Hatter) and it is no wonder when he's working alongside the most straight laced sorcerer there is, Nanami Kento. To a degree, I wonder if it’s genuine chaos spilling from his head or if he knows, after years of pushing Nanami’s buttons, how to precisely drive him up a wall. I question whether it's for his own entertainment or to his own alienation. Maybe Geto really was the only one who could follow the winding thread of Gojo’s thoughts.

Head Canon: Gojo Secretly Worries About Nanami

I think with Haibara’s death and the knowledge he would have made light work of whatever caused it, Gojo makes it a point to join Nanami on missions.. just in case. After all, Nanami and Shoko are all he has left from before. He’s lost many people and, as the strongest, I don’t think that fear is something he’d admit aloud, but its reality is demonstrably what pushes him forward physically and philosophically. In the story where they go on a mission together... it almost seems like an unspoken and uncomfortable understanding between them, the elephant in the room neither want to point out. People around Gojo never wanting to acknowledge how his strength eclipses theirs is rather common which we see with Nanami in this story and even Ijichi later. So while he may make light of this chasm, he still pops in as an unsolicited protector. With grace, he allows Nanami to assume he's just being a nuisance but I really think he takes an ounce of prevention where possible when it comes to the people he cares for. After all, imagine the turmoil if he ever came to realize his absence could make or break another person's survival again.

Head Canon: The Elders Have Always Known, If It Came Down to it, Gojo Would Always Choose Geto

There’s a reason they kept the idea of reanimating the dead a secret specifically from Gojo. In fact, they should probably consider themselves lucky that he was so vehemently disgusted with the curse user capable of such puppetry. I wonder if he experienced hope before allowing the reality of the sham magic to break his heart all over again because, in their secrecy, it seems like they know the lengths he’d go to protect and choose Geto. Geto was allowed to walk the earth for 10 years after his execution was ordered. Maybe they were right to keep it close to the chest. Gojo still saved his body, after all. To what end when he knew a body can run the risk of becoming a curse?

Head Canon: Gojo Saved Ijichi's Life but Condemned Him to Something Worse

Okay so this is kind of a manga spoiler (though I believe the flash back is during the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arc) but, as a student, Gojo straight up told Ijichi he was weak and should find something else to do so he doesn't get himself killed. So he does. He becomes a steadfast and detail oriented manager which is a critical fixture in jujutsu society but damn, doesn't it just put Ijichi in an ivory tower of suffering? Years pass as he sends first his juniors, then fresh sets of kids into dangerous battle after dangerous battle. Some survive, some don't and all serve as a reminder of his powerlessness. He can cross every "t" and dot every "i" and it still doesn't prevent what happened to Yuji at the Juvenile center from happening. What does that do to one's soul?

Head Canon: Gojo Still Thinks "We Are the Strongest"

As seen with the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arc, we know that Gojo saw an exponential growth in response to the losses suffered. It seemingly drove a wedge between he and Geto as Geto struggled to grapple with his powerlessness. With his defection, we see where Gojo changes his posturing from "we are the strongest" to "I am the strongest" but in the back of his mind (Alexa, play "Always Forever" by Cults 🫠), we know he still holds a soft spot for his first and last warm spring of youth. At the end of JJK 0, he refers to Geto in the present tense, as his "best friend, [his] one and only." Even after everything, I truly think Gojo leaves space for Geto beside him. This is furthered in the light novel during a story which is placed post Junpei and upon Yuji's return to life at Jujutsu High. Yuji, while still playing dead, helped a kid who had a grade 3 curse that seemed to be resurrecting and, after exorcising it multiple times felt he needed Gojo's assistance. When Gojo refused, he resigned himself to ask Nanamin for help wherein Gojo employed a Teachable Moment (TM).

He approached Itadori, who was hanging his head. "In this world, tragedies too often end in misery, even when it's possible to help. But the problem isn't lack of strength or getting there too late." As Gojo passed Itadori, he patted him on the head without making eye contact. "The main reason it happens is that people forget they have the strength to help."

This was enough to restore Yuji's confidence in his own competence but also sounds informed by what happened between Geto and Gojo in a sense. I interpret Gojo's assertion to center Geto to be the assumed lack of strength (which was most pertinent to how he was advising Yuji) and himself with the poor timing. Ultimately, to Gojo it doesn't matter because he never thought Geto was weak. The insecurity was a product of a situation he failed to reason himself out of, at the time, and it bred resentment within him alone. I don't think Gojo blamed Geto for anything that happened with Riko nor could he blame himself. It simply spurned him to figure out ways to limit his vulnerability in the future. In the face of that loss, Gojo still said they were the strongest and maybe in that moment with Yuji, he was employing a lesson he wished he could have been in a place to tell Geto to quell his festering guilt and grief. You can be strong and still fallible.

Hypothesis: Mimiko and Nanako (and Anyone Else...) Going After Managers is Not a Coincidence

As we saw with JJK 0, Geto's twins were rather merciless in going after the suits who make everything covert about jujutsu society possible. Based on what we knew at the time, the managers provide cover for sorcerers on missions (with curtains, getting them transportation to, providing cover stories) and plug them in with resources as needed. But we begin to realize that managers serve additional purposes. In season 1, we see that they are sometimes part of the investigative force when it comes to getting information around developing situations. With the Shibuya arc and the arc that follows, we see that they are also integral means of liaison and communication between sorcerers and to other points of contact within the community, including windows.

So. Windows are people who can see curses but aren't sorcerers which begs the question, what are managers? As we learn and can infer with Ijichi, who was a former sorcerer in training, managers are people who can see curses and may even be able to manipulate cursed energy. They aren't full blown sorcerers but they aren't completely helpless either. So why go after them?

As we see in the story centered around Ijichi's "boring day" at the office. Managers are sorcerers' only connection to the "human" world. They are what keeps them tethered to their mission in protecting others while similarly upholding the etiquette and traditions around how the rest of the world works. They maintain a very delicate balance of things alongside the supernatural. Without them, you'd have the unchecked ego of teenage Gojo basically just doing as he pleases without curtains or respect to the possible implications of a civilian seeing him work out in the open. To suit Geto's needs during JJK 0, why should sorcerers operate under some guise of hiding their strength for the sake of those who are weak? As to what happens during the Shibuya arc.. imagine the fear, the anxiety. Imagine the chaos! Imagine the curses it would yield.

Hypothesis: Yuji is Still the Main Character, We Just Haven't Seen the Curse that He'd Manifest When Broken Saying it louder for the people in the back

Certain corners of the fandom have largely cast Yuji aside. With the release of JJK 0 and appearance of Yuta, many wonder why Yuta isn't carrying the series. Afterall, his inherent overpowered-ness and ability to copy any technique for sure casts him as the next gen Gojo, right? In the literary sense, we've seen the rise and fall of his story. We haven't seen the last of him by any stretch of the imagination but he is, as we discovered, also jujutsu society royalty. A distant cousin of Gojo's, actually.

Of the main cast of first and second years, Yuji and Nobara are subsequently the only characters who do not have apparent ties to jujutsu society. Nobara, plucked from the countryside, is tested by Gojo upon her initial introduction to the series to make sure she's crazy enough to cut it. Yuji's origin is still a ways from truly coming to light but his inherent strength and the simple ability to house Sukuna and maintain his identity has, in many ways, been indicated to be an anomaly. Subsequently, as the viewer or reader, we know there's more to the story which has yet to come. I won't go into it here given my desire to not spoil the larger manga story but I think laced within the light novels is enough evidence to talk about Yuji and what his power and subsequent threat level is.

Yuji, for all intents and purposes, is an outsider. From what we can tell, he has experienced loss. Most apparently with his grandfather but we also assume he is a victim to the MC syndrome that leaves him orphaned and prime for a journey rife with struggle. He's fifteen with the pure heart of a child despite any previous hardships and just so happens to be armed with the mission to help people.

Yuji approaches the introduction to this new society with the wonderment of a kid finding out superheroes exist. But this naivete, this untempered light, actually has the capability of being something so fearsome when we learn how curses manifest through negative emotions.

In the anime, we see this as Sukuna scratches at Yuji's mental when they realize the possible origin of Tsumiki's curse may have begun killing it's victims when Yuji ate the finger. Mahito employs a similar means of manifesting ill will in Junpei that ultimately also becomes a burdensome guilt that Yuji bears. Countless times in the Shibuya arc, Yuji is forced to witness catastrophic losses of his mentors and friends while he can only stand idly by. The survivor's guilt is compounded by the shame of his own inability to help which only gets worse.

Since Yuji is relatively noble and sincere in nature, he considers these losses personal failures. He takes ownership of any sins against others that Sukuna commits when he is not in control over his body and, subsequently, his spirit takes a beating time and time again. He sought to do good in the world but his ledger becomes increasingly bloody through no means of his own and it weighs on our sunshine character.

It's easy to lend a hand to a child who has fallen, but it's a teacher's job to show a child how to stand up unassisted. It isn't always easy. - Gojo Satoru

The first light novel closes the gap between how Yuji went from training in a basement away from anyone who'd want him dead a second time to being under Nanami's care. While wrapping up Nanami's case, Gojo is uncharacteristically somber in requesting Nanami's assistance. He explains that Yuji requires Nanami's influence as someone who knows human suffering. The losses shared between them are unspoken and are not acknowledged within this exchange but, from what we know, hang as a burden between them. Still, both Nanami and Gojo have continued on as sorcerers somehow, from the grief of their youth into their late twenties. But Gojo gives voice to the concern that, because of Yuji's bravery and altruism, that the reality of what's expected of a sorcerer will one day break his heart if someone with emotional intelligence isn't able to help temper it. They seem to both understand the precariousness of youth and have both been shown to insist in protecting it where possible. This exchange and their mutual understanding is how we have Yuji under the care of Nanamin. It's also where we get the heart rending reminder that "Being a child is by no means a crime," and "You've escaped death many times. But that doesn't mean you've become an adult."

In the last story of the book, as Yuji is reunited with the other first years, he is contemplating a situation he encountered that still lacked resolution. He'd exorcised the exact same demon several times but to no avail. He hopes to enlist Gojo's help but Gojo encourages him to think about the problem more because not everything can be solved by fighting and exorcising when the source of curses is from human emotion. As Yuji races off to resolve the issue that's been weighing on him, Gojo reflects on his responsibility to preparing Yuji for the ups and downs that are sure to befall him.

Itadori's sincerity was a more significant attribute than his being Sukuna's vessel. As a result, trauma had the potential to become a curse more fearsome than anything else, a nasty curse preventable only by confronting one's own heart. Instead of cradling that heart, Gojo could teach it to be prepared. That's what it meant to raise students.

While the story resolves without consequence, we see that Yuji's reflection on the situation is as endearing as one would imagine though still a bit warped. He is galvanized to be stronger, dedicated to providing the help the people need whatever it may be, and to not give those he cares about reason to worry which seems in line with what Gojo was hoping for. But being offset by his consideration for how others feel like Nobara and Fushiguro when he died, it almost feels like he's creating an even larger burden of expectations for himself. This gives rise to Gojo's very real concerns about how far someone can fall into despair, especially someone who is such a beacon of positivity.