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#jk i know you guys have your struggles
heaven-dope · 11 months
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this is a gifted kid-free blog/j
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vanillakook · 2 months
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THE ROOMMATE ꔫ - JJK
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synopsis: your hot roommate brings out the dirtiest side of you
parings: roommate!jk x pervy!roommate!reader
warnings: mature language and content, spying, solo masturbation, lewd thoughts, slight jealously, underwear stealing, abnormal behavior (on both parts) mentions of pillow humping, wet dreams, fantasies, etc.
genre: smut, drabble
word count: 660
a/n: quick little one shot as a thank you for all the love you’ve been showing me, i promise to keep writing the filthiest works for you guys <3
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pervy!roommate!reader who has jungkook completely fooled. he thinks his cute housemate is so innocent. what he doesn’t know is that you’re a deranged slut that’s been yearning for him since you’ve laid eyes on him.
pervy!roommate!reader who’s attraction to jungkook starts off as something sane. your behavior progresses into stuffing your pussy to the thought of him, stealing his used boxers and trotting around in them when he’s not home, and staining the same pillows he lays his head on with your sticky cum.
pervy!roommate!reader who goes brain dead whenever jungkook is speaking to her. whether it’s about your half of the rent or what groceries you want him to go get, the only thing you can think about his having his dick down your throat.
pervy!roommate!reader who wakes up with her panties clinging to her pussy from the wet dreams she has about jungkook, desperately wishing to make the images of getting destroyed by him into a reality. every morning is a constant routine of rubbing your sensitive clit, hoping he’s listening to your soft cries for him on the other side.
pervy!roommate!reader who feels like she hits the jackpot when she catches jungkook fisting his huge cock in his room. the door is cracked open just the right amount to where she can spy. it’s so wrong to invade his privacy, she has time to walk away, to shut his door even. instead she feels her fingers creeping up to cup her breast, rolling it around while her teeth sink into her bottom lip. this could be her moment, her chance to finally relieve his dick that looks like it’ll burst any second if it doesn’t have a cunt squeezing around it. instead she falls back, rubbing one out while watching him before going back to bed.
pervy!roommate!reader who’s visibly upset every time jungkook brings a girl over, dramatically slamming her bedroom door and making noises around the apartment to disturb him and his company. suddenly she needs jungkook for every little issue she has which causes his little hookup to dip out on him. he’d be more upset if his roommate wasn’t enough eye candy for him to get off to alone. either way he’s satisfied.
pervy!roommate!reader who’s scent on jungkooks pillows doesn’t go unnoticed. he’s breathing you in every night in the spot where he lays his head. your aromas make his dick stand up, aching and hurting from neglect. he could call someone over, he has girls lined up and waiting for him. yet the only thing that sounds satisfying is his pretty little roommate. he thinks he’s going crazy when he hears your small pants and moans of his name with the wet, sloppy sounds of your cunt following after.
pervy!roommate!reader who’s panties start going missing and popping up with globs of white substances in them and notices her roommate avoiding her more often. jungkook is suddenly too busy to hang out and too busy to have dinner with you. jungkook starts getting risky, leaving his door open while pumping his cock. he only does it when you’re not home, just in hopes that you’d walk in and drop to your knees when you saw him struggling to cum without your touch.
pervy!roommate!reader who’s nerves are running rampant at her and jungkooks game of cat and mouse. when he sends her a “we need to talk” text various scenarios and thoughts begin to go through her head. yet nothing could prepare her for jungkook’s distressed expression as she sits in front of him on the sofa and he runs a tired hand over his face while hovering over her. her eyes widen, watching the bulge in his pants grow to an inhuman size. and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared for his next proposal, something she thought she’d never hear from him.
“doll, as much as i love licking your slick off my pillows how about you use my cock from now on? yeah?”
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taegularities · 10 months
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colour me in: translucent | jjk (m)
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Summary: And whenever the world seems to fall apart and your thoughts cast a shadow over your heart, he rushes to lift you to your feet. Conjoining your hearts and souls, again and again and again.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; some healthy angst, so much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: y’all. So. Much. Fluff, talk about stars, talk about his hometown, mention of a wedding 😁, 1 nara mention, a guest appearance!!, and another guest appearance…, daddy issues mention, oc has a tummy ache :(, banter, conversation with her mom, badass oc, their friends <3, moving and work stress, overworking, kook panics in this one, oc does too, tears and tears and tea–, abandonment issues, overthinking!!!, they communicate too late bc they’re scared, pregnancy scare, mention of throwing up, kissing and hand holding <3, petnames, insecurities/slight envy; explicit sexual content: diving right into the smut as the chapter starts 🤭, tie around oc’s neck ha ha, oral (f. receiving) (over panties and without 🥲), fingering, brief masturbation (m.), making out, jk takes the backseat and oc drives for a while <3, bit of choking, they’re half clothed for a bit, tiddie and butt love, tears, flirting, big dick jk, soft dom jk, emotions omg 😷, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, he unloads in her mouth 😄, and yeah, maybe more but i forgot – lmk if you notice smth! also… THE 👏 EN 👏 DING 🚨🚨🚨 ➳ word count: 35.8k 💀  ➳ a/n: here it is… after a long ass fight with tumblr and my tears, it’s here! i don’t have much to say this time except that this chapter means the world to me. and i hope you love it just as much. shoutout to @missgeniality for betaing parts of this and helping me with difficult scenes, i truly struggled!! <3 if you guys enjoy this one, let me know and don’t be shy to reach out!! love you and let’s dive in 🥺 ➳ listen to: say you won't let go by james arthur | full collaborative playlist 🤍
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SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs | DC SERVER
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The whispers cease the moment your door closes.
The whispers of the world, of all traffic, of all passersby, of all echoes. And those in your head, susurrating since you left the glass building and its conference hall.
They dim the moment you drop your palm off the door; your heart is still a nervous mess as you take your shoes off, watch him take his shoes off. He places them neatly in the shoe cabinet, jacket hung on one of the coat hooks.
Right here, you’re surrounded by a tranquil, quiet dome. Not as subdued as the emotions the outer world elicits; just an arena that feels perpetually warm, sepia and still.
And amidst that warmth, there’s yearning. You feel it in every nerve of your body, burning through your limbs. Stunning sentiments pull at your soul, making it heavy; and your heart floats, perpetually above the clouds.
As he rubs his cheek with a soft hand — you know, because you were holding it just two minutes ago, clutching it in the car for dear life —, you take a step forward, your mouth open, but not quite capable of saying all that’s weighing on your tongue.
They’re good things; amazing things. And he hasn’t yet gathered all his thoughts either to truly voice what he’s been hiding since you left the chaos. Only opting for the living room, painfully slowly, as if he’s waiting to face you again.
And maybe… maybe he really is. And maybe he doesn’t need to talk at all.
Because he stops the moment you speak, tenderly calling, “Jungkook.”
It’s all he needs. Combined with the lightest touch to his elbow, a hint of your voice is all he needs. He wants to keep hearing his name. Again and again and again. And today, announcing it to the world, you promised that you’ll be doing just that.
Shit. What have you done to his heart? He wants to ask questions that neither of you has an answer to; or, not one that can be verbalised. One that could explain this euphoria.
So he doesn’t say anything at all.
Instead, he stumbles as he turns back to you again, taking a deep breath before his head tilts. The unbounded amount of want is swimming in his tired eyes, and you barely manage a hushed, “Should we—” before his fingers flutter and he—
Dashes straight toward you. One large step, both hands jacking up to take your face captive. He raises your head, eyes closing, mouth parting an inch before it’s locked with yours.
If he hadn’t started, you would have.
The same thumb always caressing your skin pulls your lower lip down. An unfaltering habit, tender whenever he spirals. You trip backwards, with him in tow, immediately gripping his arms with a wild, accelerating heartbeat.
Your soul was already awake, lit up from today’s events; but he dunks it in a brighter shine — and now it flushes pink.
For a while, your kiss’ sounds are all that echo off the wall, mixing with your sighs. He starts gently, head angled, diving deeper.
Every now and then, he tugs at your lip ever-so-slightly, teeth and tongue dragging over it. The wet muscle is soft against yours, and you let your touch drop down to his waist to hold him closer.
But there’s not that much time to dissolve into him right here, against your entrance door, because Jungkook backs away before you can bid your sanity adieu. Maybe that’s for later.
Maybe you need to be okay with his breath grazing your skin for now, for the words he murmurs so close to your lips, “You’re crazy for this. Absolutely crazy.”
You are. Both okay with this, and incredibly crazy.
There’s never been more certainty in your actions or your intentions than whatever you do with him. For him — if that deems you crazy, then you absolutely are.
Heated from the kiss, Jungkook steps away, but not without entangling your fingers with his. On the way to the bedroom, you ignore everything that doesn’t entail him.
Like, the humming of the fridge. Or the sound of the traffic outside, audible through the tilted window. And the buzzing of your phone; it’s been doing that for a while now.
Of course it is.
But you don’t hesitate to deposit it on your bedside table mere seconds later; you barely manage to put it there, nearly watching it slide down as Jungkook pulls you back. You clash against his body, and the tongue once again mingling with yours only enhances your disorientation.
God, you’re a lost cause. Nothing else to expect with his palm holding your jaw, arm slung around you, kissing you senseless.
Time slows down; the sensation turns electric. His motions are rhythmic, fingers brushing your neck. And despite the bitterness he must have felt at the conference, he tastes so , so sweet.
Heady desire growing, you grip the back of his head, pushing it closer. You’re insatiable. Yearning for more of his damp, soft lips, hysterical when he lets out a craving, small moan.
“Do you have any idea,” he starts, giving your neck no more than a handful of teasing pecks, “what that did to me?”
He moves back until you plummet into the mattress; your eyes follow when he leans in and falls to his knees. Placing a hand at the nape of your neck, tenderly moving your face a bit closer to his.
“Without a warning, too,” he continues, “what, were you planning to drive me mad for so long?”
Not the angry kind of mad. His smile and the fondness in his eyes reveal that much. No — the mad that a lover is.
“Did it work?” you ask, and he flashes his teeth, beloved crinkles around his eyes.
“Did it? What do you think?” He kisses your nose; then, the apple of your cheek. “You didn’t notice any of it today? Or any other time before that?”
“I wanted to… I want everyone to know. I was going to tell you when you came home, but… I wanted to say it in front of everybody. That,” you touch the collar of his blazer, rubbing it between your fingertips, “I’m done with their games. I don’t care anymore, Jungkook.”
“I know… You don’t care.” His hand leaves the nape of your neck, caressing your face. “But you care about me, yes? You care so much.”
It’s not really a question. It’s a statement, a reassurance to himself. A mantra, as if he needs to repeat it and let it reverberate in his mind until he’s grasped its meaning.
“I do,” you whisper, peeling the blazer off his shoulder by only a few inches, “and I want to stay. Can I… just stay here?”
“You’re crazy,” he echoes once more, emphasising his words with a shake of his head, “to think I’ll let you go again. You’ll see.”
Although he still establishes a brief, temporary distance between the two of you right after; you’re reluctant to stop feeling his warmth when he stands. He towers over you, and you muster utmost courage to not faint.
Because the sight is one to behold.
How he removes the blazer in a swift movement, discarding it on top of the table at the wall. He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt, but only one side, glancing at you throughout the ordeal.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.
“Why is your mouth open like that?”
“Do this exactly in front of a mirror, and… and you’ll know why.”
He smirks. “Right. And stare at yourself in the mirror for longer than a second, and you’ll know why, too.”
God, this guy…
And he actually doesn’t stop.
His pupils keep wandering; to your eyes, to your lips, to your heaving chest. To how you close your legs when he loosens his tie with tattooed fingers, lettered knuckles on full display. He opens a single button of his dress shirt; enough to reveal a patch of golden skin.
The tie dangles off his neck, doing wonders to your mind, and you resist the urge to grab it and pull him down to you. But you don’t need to; you only get to cherish the sight for another second.
Because right after, he pulls it over his head, baring the highly kissable mole on his neck before—
“What are you doing?” you wonder, eyes wide, and probably filled with anticipation as he puts the tie around your neck. “I’m…”
“Looks a lot better on you.”
One more shake of his head. You subtly catch a jerk behind his pants, and your gaze drops instantly. Behind the dark slacks, he’s already waiting for you, and the thought leaves you frothing at the mouth.
“You’re not looking bad yourself…” you say, drifting off, barely looking into his face as your hand reaches out. “May I?”
“What, baby?”
“Just…” 
You move forward, a palm to his thigh, and close your eyes before placing a kiss to the growing bulge. It twitches under your lips, and you drag your mouth lightly over his dick’s outline.
“Should’ve known,” Jungkook breathes, affected straight away, “but somehow, this is worse than your hand.”
“Really?”
He clicks his tongue when you do it again, unfazed by the layer between you as you give his clothed cock an open-mouthed kiss. Two of his fingers settle underneath your chin, and he raises your head in order to meet your gaze.
Then, he pushes you back a little, within a second back to one knee; then the other. He cocks an eyebrow as if to reprimand you, but then gulps down a chuckle as he says, “Really. But wait a bit more.”
You need to wait, because he prioritises your pleasure. One demand you’re ready to give into.
So, so prepared, when he asks politely, “Open your slacks?” You do. The way he drags his hands over your thigh and up to your hips, starting to discard your pants, is arguably less polite. “Here we go. Raise your ass.”
You help him out as best as you can. But he attaches his lips to your naked thigh the moment it comes into view, scattering kisses over your hot skin as he casts it off of you entirely.
You raise your feet a bit above the ground, and he uses the moment to separate your legs. Doesn’t even bother taking off your panties first; casually making himself at home between your limbs.
Light-headed, you open your eyelids halfway to glance at the blurry ceiling light; you never noticed when you closed them. Maybe when the sweetness spread over your thighs’ skin.
Maybe he’s as dizzy as you — only, when your whirling stare descends to his face, he’s smirking. And for a second, you don’t understand why. Puzzled, you keep looking, observing the tempting lick over his lips; the deep exhale; the barely-there blinking.
And then he says, “Never thought about it. But you should wear light-coloured panties more often.”
“…Why?”
But you soon get why.
Because you feel the arousal behind the fabric. How it glues your pussy to it, the damp spot probably growing. It’s visible — that’s what he’s liking so much.
He can see all of the desire you harbour for him, showcased so blatantly. And despite the embarrassment, watching his face flush in that rosy dust boosts your ego, too.
Your face burns.
“You’ve been like that for…” he starts, shrugging his shoulders in curiosity, “how long now?”
“Long enough. And I dare you to do something about it.”
Because fuck, he talks too much. In hindsight, only really when you need him to shut up; deliberately.
“Oh god,” he exclaims, dramatic as ever; as he raises a hand, you nearly think he’ll place it on his chest for further effect, but he only touches your knee, “now if you’re daring me, I’ll have to.”
“Mhm. I’m sure you’re not a sore lo—”
“Yeah, yeah.”
It’s a rude interruption, and the sudden push of his fingertip against your clit is ruder. It’s a momentary touch, fleeting, as opposed to the slow and calculated way that he buries his face in your panties. Eyes glued to yours for a moment.
And then…
Then, you relish the first taste of Heaven — as does he, you suppose.
Because the satisfied sigh is outrageous, hot against your covered folds. He licks over the damp stain, only the tip of his tongue; thoroughly salivated, because you feel the wetness seeping through the clothing.
There’s no moment between the start of his action and your immediate, ”Fuck.”
And to him, your reaction sets just the tone for a woozy night to come. He nods between your legs, gelled back strands tickling, hums so sweetly. You adjust on your seat, though the subtle change affects nothing; only drives you wilder as you shift deeper into his face.
His tongue is painting circles over your clit. Drawing out sensations, and you don’t understand how… there’s underwear between him and you. A barrier, aching to be removed, so how is he doing this, howishedoingit—
“No! Oh god—”
You can’t decipher why you voiced the rejection; you don’t want him to leave. Frustrated when he does, mouth open, waiting for you to speak up until you do, “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t fucking know…”
“Babe…” He shakes his head… He’s doing so much of this today. But one of the loose strands keeps moving so gorgeously over his forehead, so if it was up to you, he could keep doing it. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry…”
“Nah.” He says it when you press your lips together, hot and bothered as he licks another stripe along your cunt. “Didn’t mean it that way. Open that pretty mouth. Do scream, yeah?”
You could melt into the ground. Or into the sheets; he always knows what to say. No matter what the situation. A verbal monster once, a graceful poet another time.
They say, get you a man who can do both. But he can do all million things known to humankind and the book of romance.
His mouth works deeper into where you ache. Tongue action expanded, he returns to the panties, seeking one of your nether lips to tease it, pull at it. He’s ruining your garment, making it stick to your pussy.
Pries your legs open when he comes back to the clit, and then drops down to the overflowing sex again. The sensual gestures are toying with your nerves, and you still can’t figure out how. Leaves you waiting, yearning, craving the lack of a blockade in between.
And once the uncomfortable, wet cotton of your panties rubs against the inside of your folds, you finally speak up, “Why are you—”
“Sorry,” he interjects, aware of his bestiality. You see it in his stupid wicked smile. “I know. This is just…” Big eyes stare back down, albeit hazier than before; his finger touches the drenched patch for a second. “So good to look at.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Of course.”
Shit, he’s so cheeky. If you had the strength, you’d wipe that bubbly smile off his face; not good for your heart. Would smooch it away. But fret not — you’ll get your chance, too.
For now, you need to grant him this win. Not least of all, because it feels so good for you, too.
So you don’t defy him when he suddenly moves in more. Hooks a finger into your panties and slides them aside, letting them snap back against the juncture between your pussy and leg. And then, you guess the actual fun starts.
Because he throws one carnal look at you before his arms wander under your legs. You can barely gather your thoughts before he digs in again, properly this time. Lips directly attaching to your skin, he starts diligent work on soiling your body.
And god, does he do it well…
So experienced. Aware. Studied you and your body well enough — because the agonisingly slow tease isn’t random. He knows how much you hate it; knows how much you love it.
How it builds anticipation, and how it grows your desire.
He’s a little fuck, but maybe that’s why he never fails to break you this hard. You know he’s enjoying this — delighted when your eyebrows furrow, close to weeping as he breathes against your pussy.
Even though a man starved, he takes his time. For a second. Then another. And then parts your folds with his fingers, whispering, “Would you say that’s better?”
Like he’s at some meeting. Goddamn.
You blink, responding, “I don’t know. Better than the panties, worse than…” His finger slips in mid-speech, just halfway through when you manage a breathy, “this.”
“I… Shit, you’re… hot as fuck.”
Right.
Even you’re turned on by how your head tips back again, eyes rolling inward when he diminishes the distance and kisses your cunt. Nobody else is going to raise your confidence like he does.
“Mmmh,” he voices as the make out session intensifies, smacking noises sounding from below. He lifts his lips by a mere inch, only to mumble, “So hot. So fucking good.”
And that’s it — back to business.
“Nnnghkook…”
The arms he dropped under your legs sling around them, hooking in, and somehow, he’s able to reach to your back like that. Raises your legs in the process, pulling you in. Deeper in your heat, big button nose against your pelvis.
Your right hand attempts to grip his hair before you threaten to fall backwards, failing miserably. You immediately place both your palms back on the bed, because you doubt you can trust that damned left arm to hold you upright — quivering like this.
The tip of your tongue touches the arch of your upper lip, and then you tilt your head, warning him, “Fuck… if you don’t fuck my brains out today, Jungkook…”
Brains? Plural? Acting as though even one’s present in your head right now.
Jungkook chuckles, licking you dry; the little sound combined with the sinful ordeal is a delightful one. Contrary, but gifting the moment some reality. Some tenderness. You’re having fun.
He stops to throw the escaping strands back again — all in vain, of course — and brings his hand to your ass, moving you over the bed until you’re off the edge. You yelp, close to falling, but he holds you carefully.
Ass half dangling, he throws your legs over broad shoulders, kissing your thigh before he promises, “Don’t worry at all. Won’t leave a single thought in either of our heads.”
You wince when he bites the flesh of your leg, and then proceeds to advance his soft lips to the tender ache. He collects saliva on his tongue, probably ready to dive in again; moves in at least, tickling your pelvis with his breath.
His nose takes a deep breath, inhaling you, dizzy from your scent. And his thumb — it floats over your clit, preparing for more insanity. But when the position elicits some discomfort, you say, “Put me on the bed. Can I… bed properly.”
Fragments of sentences. They make him smile.
“Sure,” he says rather calmly; you’re anything but.
It’s not normal. Watching a guy like Jeon Jungkook push his hair back with his jaw on full display; tongue darting out.
He signals his approval once more as he pats your thigh, and you make quick work at weakly turning around and crawling onto the bed. You’re still trembling as you get on all fours, very conscious of what you’re doing.
Casually, you say, “I’ll get the lube, too.”
Of course you know what might follow. What will follow. He never stops raving, daydreaming, bragging about your ass — walking past you in the kitchen, just to grapple a handful and to innocently claim, “What? I love your butt.”
But before he strikes this time, you’re only barely able to grab the lube out of the drawer, placing it next to the pillow instead of handing it back to him. Because… because before you know it—
There’s already a finger to your pussy.
“Shit,” you curse, “you and your impatience.”
“Do you want me to wait?” he asks, as purely as the butt-love-statements as his touch retracts. Mellow voice; only a flutter of his lashes is missing, really. “I can wait.”
No, he can’t. Liar.
“No,” you repeat, readily letting your upper body fall. You bring your fingertips back to your ass, tracing it down until met with your arousal. “Don’t do this to me now.”
You know his answer before he utters it, “Don’t you do this to me now.” You hear a click of his tongue; a poised beam plays around your lips. “Alright. But.”
He snatches your legs from under your body until you’re flat on your tummy; you grunt just a bit. Not expecting the soft, little, “Do tell me if I do too much.”
As if…
He knows his limits. But the constant, caring pleads still always grip your heart; so you nod.
“Okay.”
Simultaneous with a fond slap, that word is the last verbal sign of his presence that you receive for a while. Whatever follows is a pure testing of limitations; of jumbling up your senses.
Because the moment Jungkook lifts your ass to his face, his tongue is already out. Experimental at first, of course, patient. He takes a second for languid kisses and soft necking, fingers exploring the inside of your thigh as if to soothe your restlessness.
And it helps. Your limbs shake a bit less, your mind focused on where his touches go. Fingertips near your folds. Lips kissing around your pussy. Then, repeating the same brush of his hands as before, but on your other leg, moving inward. 
Despite the first taste he already got, he’s suddenly changed his tactic; and you’re greedy. Mewling in tiny, quiet sounds, barely realising that they’re coming out of you. You repeat his name over and over, but it never quite tumbles out in its entirety.
So you keep it at moaning, eyes closed, so infinitely relaxed.
He moves back, gently asking, “All good?”
“So far… do more, please.”
It’s what he always waits for. You know. Jungkook has a fetish for your pleas, and the tiniest fragment of your beseeching voice is usually enough for him.
Like now.
Encouraged, he pushes your shirt up to your tits, halting right under them. He touches your naked stomach, brushing your belly button, grazing a palm over your lower back and straight to your ass.
The tongue ghosting around your sex finally dares a step forward. Gets a little taste of what’s to come. Circles around your folds, then to your nub; spit gathered on the tip, never too hard, oh-so-mildly — and maybe that’s what makes it even worse.
The lack of any force. How pleasant it feels. And you let him know — respond with a desperate, unheard sound, goosebumps sprawling over your skin.
Jungkook discerns it as a signal to go on; to do more. His nose buries between your ass, pushing his tongue in a little further, alternating between licking and kissing and collecting spit. Your lust shoots to the sky; you twist and move, but he holds you in place with a single hand.
And when he disappears, you regret it immediately. You hear him say, “Hey, hey… Don’t you want me to fuck your brains out, sweetheart? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Mmhyes, yes, please.”
“…Then stop moving.” His nails are harsh against your waist, and you whimper. “The more you behave now,” he leaves a kiss on your butt, loosening his grip around your waist, “the harder I’ll go later.”
“…Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”
He chuckles. What an ass; leaving you physically and mentally covetting, and then enjoying your reactions.
“Are you okay with this?” he asks, biting a little, stroking your hips, holding onto your ass cheeks.
“Mhm.” It’s all you can voice at this point. You don’t have any power over your body; can’t lift it off the mattress. “Love it.”
“Perfect.”
And then, everything seems to happen faster.
Arousal and orgasm have already built from his advances, and he gives you the rest when he starts drawing circles around your pussy again. Heightens your senses, slurps and drinks you up. Every single time it feels like he’s learned something new; you swoon at the attention to detail.
What might he be looking like right now?
Perhaps he’s biting his lip. Maybe his eyebrows are furrowed, usually tell-tale signs of either him enjoying his meal or him enjoying his meal.
“Shit,” you mumble, but you don’t think he hears it — too busy sucking at your folds, adding a finger to the mix.
Sometimes, the licks are generous, wide-tongued; sometimes, he focuses on each part individually. The insides, the clit; how you sound, how you wind.
There’s truly an utter craze you feel for this man; no matter which hazy or soft or delicate situation, he fits you like a missing puzzle piece. Like a match made in Heaven. Knows what he’s doing.
Because he knows you. Because he studies you. Observes you.
Sex is only one instance of his attentiveness.
And perhaps that’s the whipped thought that pushes you over the edge eventually. Maybe that’s why the moment passes so quickly and explosions blind you all of a sudden. Why your face glows so hot, sweat collecting over your upper lip.
It must be.
Because as he stimulates you for another minute, your sensitive cunt submits, the knot in your lower stomach unwinding. He unties it fully, eliciting a stirring feeling that makes your pussy flutter.
“Holy shit…”
You only register your voice when the peeping in your ear stops. Your voice is still damped, the world around you vanishing a bit; except for him. Always except for him.
And.
You also notice that your fingers are hurting. Did you dig them into the sheets too hard? Tug too hard? You don’t know… but their pads are almost numb.
Jungkook’s mouth is still there, though lighter now, and his finger is slightly slapping your cunt, encouraging you to keep letting go. Catching you on his tongue.
And then… it’s over. You remain quiet.
You’ll be a mess for the foreseeable future; or at least, the upcoming one or two minutes. Your back and neck are already covered in a sheen of sweat; it’s so unbearably hot, as opposed to the recklessly approaching cold outside.
Remaining like this, you let him kiss your body through your orgasm, delicately soothing the pain his fingers caused across your ass. Hovering above the small of your back, he asks, “Can you move?”
“Not yet. But…” You scan the spot next to the pillow until you find the lube, throwing it back to him at last. “I can watch.”
No objection. So you turn around.
When you finally meet his gaze again, having started missing it, he’s already unbuckling his pants. Right there, towering above you, looking directly at you. Jaw chiselled, lips swollen.
You decide to spur him on; bring the tie between your covered tits before gentle fingers grasp them deftly. Rolling your digits around their outline before squeezing them. There’s an instant reaction: The hard bite of his lip, the rushed discarding of his clothes.
And fuck, he’s beautiful. So pretty how he despairs bit by bit, only letting his pants make it to his knees before his cock has sprung out. A true monster, bloodshot like this, further growing as it twitches and jerks… blue veins wanting to be licked.
But it’s lube-day, and neither of you can wait.
So you let him make a fist around his thickness, stroking it and momentarily letting out a groan. His chest seems to deflate, shoulders dropping as he jerks himself off once more, squirts some lube into his palm, and returns to his intentions.
“Good,” you praise, watching his cheeks grow rosier, “wish you could go all out.”
“I can’t.”
You know. You know, because he’s storing all his patience for what’s to come. With and for you.
Breath stagnating, you watch a drop of sweat trail down between his tanned pecs and then into his shirt; fabric sticking to his skin. He doesn’t notice it, dazy as hell, wiping his tip clear of the precum. Every damn time you’re in disbelief when his cock grows in size, firmer and rock hard.
So many veins adorning it as it rises to his belly button; you’re sure you’ll feel them against your walls, too. You get on wobbly knees, hair already a mess, both of you still in your soaked white dress shirts.
Jungkook’s mane is falling apart much as yours, messier now, but soaking him in so much more sex appeal. There are no boundaries to his beauty; it transcends your understanding.
Enough of watching, you mentally capitulate a minute later. Too many moans and clipped vocals fill the room, whiny once, deep later; so you float up once your body allows, targeting his cock straight-forwardly.
You only deliver one surprise kiss, helping him out as you drag your tongue along the tiny slit. He reacts, caught off guard, voicing, “Oh—”
But against his possible expectations, you don’t continue. Instead, you drag your hand along his cock only twice — up and down, feeling the smooth skin, the slippery lube, the hardness underneath.
And then, you order, “Sit. Please.”
“What?”
“Here,” you point to the headboard, on your knees, kissing his sides and up his chest until you reach the open button. “Sit down for me.”
He pauses. Waits for a moment, touching your cheek when your face aligns with his. And when you keep your begging, soft gaze intact, he huffs out a broken laugh, and states, “Not sure if I can trust you to not kill me. But…” A kiss to your left eyebrow. “Anything for you.”
And whatever happens next, passes by fast.
How he obliges, dick dangling in front of his body, waiting for ruin. How he hisses a little when the sweat-drenched back touches the cold headboard. And how you adjust your body, soon sitting in reverse, facing the closet.
Floating over his cock, straddling him, spreading your pussy with your fingers. He stutters behind you, grasping for words, but silences when you move and wiggle your ass a little, only dropping a few inches until your cock can prod your entrance.
And that’s all you do. Multiple times. Practising restraint, focusing on the closet, blinking rapidly. Perhaps you’re more patient this time, because from behind, you hear another sharp hiss, and then a somewhat agitated, but endlessly turned on, “The hell are you doing to me?”
“Nothing,” you promise; the jest costs you all your energy, “what are you talking about?”
“You’re so funny, aren’t you?”
His words are accentuated by sudden grabs of your ass. One or two pinches. You should’ve known. But despite his impatience, he never forces you down onto his cock. Lets you do.
“I’m not trying to be,” you argue, aligning yourself with him gradually. Preparing yourself mentally and physically. Leaking to no end. “You’re just delusional.”
“Must be. Too good to be real.”
If you had it in you, you’d laugh. But the approaching sins and the image of his affected expressions fog your brain. Your body burns, your lower tummy tenses; your muscles feel heavy as you loom over him, and you only endure another moment.
Because soon enough, your thirst overpowers every other thought; the weight of your desire drags your body down, thankful that he’s keeping his cock upright. And then, just like that… so easily, no resistance detected, you slide down.
His tip splits you open first, eliciting an immediate sensation. New every freaking time; like the craze he fucks your mind into space with wipes your memory each time.
“Hnnngh, this is just…”
Whatever it is, there’s no word yet invented for it. So you give up right away, squinting your eye shut until you see dots and forms, breath stuck in your throat. The lack of regular inhales muddles your mind, and you feel further heat rise to your cheeks.
“Go— slow,” he pants behind you.
Of course he’s not all the way in yet. No matter how much it feels like it; you could keep going and going. Hard and monstrous, burying inside you, no end in sight.
The filling feeling catches you off guard each time; the way he leaves no room inside, causing butterflies in your stomach, wandering straight to your pussy. A ridiculously perfect phenomenon, like a key to its lock.
God. You’re overspilling.
As soon as he’s bottomed out, you relish the feeling of his skin against your ass for a moment, registering how his fingers sneak to your flesh slowly. And then, you angle your body forward, clutching the sheets before you start moving.
You keep your pace slow. Put all your intention on delicate motions, all the way up with a whimper, and then slamming back down with a gasp. The farther you go, the wetter you get. Until you’ve probably left a shimmering liquid all over his cock, gliding too damn easily.
“That’s… that’s new,” Jungkook mutters. At least that’s what you think you hear. “Gotta do it again.”
And you’re not even done with this time. But you understand — oh, you fucking understand. There’s something about not yet seeing his face but imagining all of it. How fucked out he must look. How red the apples of his cheeks must be. How sweaty his hairline is.
You grip the sheets tighter, legs closer to his, head between your shoulders. All you manage between the heavy breathing is a high-pitched, ”Jungkook—”
“Yes. Yeah, baby. This is…”
“I know. I know, keep talking.”
Which is an unfair command. He can think as much as you; you can barely comprehend letters, even less put them into actual words. But somehow, he still mutters whatever nonsense he can think of.
“Gotta do it again,” he repeats as you fasten your pace.
“Why always play such an angel, huh?” he asks as you moan and whine.
“When you’re a… a fucking demon. Literally,” he declares when you blow out breaths, letting out a crying sound.
He feels glorious inside you. Solid and gorgeous. He holds your ass cheeks in a tight grip, the strength nearly bruising when you let a hand wander back between your legs, grazing his firm balls.
When you turn around to check briefly, slowing your motions, he looks up, meets your eyes. Apparently, he wasn’t gazing at you directly at all; and you imagine there wasn’t much to see other than a bouncing mane anyway.
What he’s actually so distracted by must be…
“How’s it… it look?” you ask, circling your hips, feeling every vein, as predicted.
“It looks…”
Must be art.
Combined with his love for your ass, he must be enjoying the view; at least judging from the constant kneading and spreading. Allowing a direct, front-seat show of his cock appearing out of you, disappearing inside of you.
Glistening. Sucking him in. It must…
“Looks so fuck—ing insane from where I sit.”
The swear word is interrupted by a millisecond, breathy as hell. Allows a glimpse into how delirious he might already be, possibly faring worse than you. Impatient, seeking more.
And you do know your Jeon Jungkook well.
Because not even another breath later, his body that slid down halfway, bolts up. You feel the shift clearly; it pulls you backwards along with him. Only, you realise the movement isn’t the only source straightening you so fast.
First and foremost, it’s the freaking hand. Covered in letters and more ink, tugging at the dangling tie and following it up to the slowly unravelling knot before… abruptly snaking around your neck. Fingers right under your jaw, lifting your head.
He tugs you in until your back collides with his chest, and to your chagrin, you notice that neither of you has gotten rid of those stupid dress shirts. You won’t be able to wear them again without drifting to this memory…
Sleeve open, he wraps his arm around your body, just under your tits, and whispers, “Why… drive me mad like this?”
“H–huh?”
“So far away. Weren’t you ffffu—” The messy zero you’re drawing with your hips interrupts his string of thoughts, and he spends a second finding it again before he finishes, “Weren’t you far away long enough?”
Shit…
This isn’t just an affair. This isn’t temporary. Your brain still can’t quite understand that you’ve actually occupied this man’s heart.
That your gestures and touches aren’t a fleeting dream, but blissfully real. That you’re his, and that he’s yours.
He’s right. You were far away for too long.
So you sneak your arm back, around the back of his neck and pull him closer by his hair. His lips brush your cheek and then retreat to your ear. Nibbling for a moment. Kissing it.
You don’t know what to focus on — on the way his teeth light up your nerves, or the way his hand moves down your shirt and bra, and up your body. Soon taking your tits captive, squeezing hard, pinching your nipples.
“Move a bit,” he orders, though you don’t really have to.
His hand remains on your neck, so he pulls you forward; guess he’s sick of the shirt, too.
“You too,” you murmur.
“Yes. Patience, love.”
No. Fuck no.
Is it the nickname or his actions that empty your head this time? You don’t know. But you react.
Moaning, but it soon transitions into a yelp when he jerks up suddenly, balls deep. Your voice breaks, and you’re breathless; grateful when he unbuttons your shirt, dragging it down your shoulders.
Helping him however you can, you pull at the clothing almost aggressively, over your hand until it’s stuck there. Sporting a shirt paw, you hear Jungkook laugh behind you, peppering more kisses to your shoulder as he says, “Ah… take it easy. You’re with me tonight.”
One quick pause, and then, “You’re always with me. No rush anymore, okay? Yeah, baby?”
He aids you out of the shirt and tie with tender pecks. Thoroughly affected when you only nod so softly, eyebrows kissing. He unclasps your bra swiftly, breathing against your neck as he bares your body once and for all, putting the garment aside.
And then his forefinger moves along your neck again, only barely touching over your vocal cords; feeling your gulp before he journeys further down, back to your tits. Probably leaving scars; his nails are reckless today.
“Wanted to see those pretty tits so bad,” he says, though he doesn’t halt here — tiptoes south to your pelvis, and then to your clit. “Been thinking about this all day.”
Really? 
So each of these touches consume his thoughts every damn moment of the day, too?
“You wanna see them… properly?” you wonder. You haven’t moved in a bit, lost in him, mentally tracing the lines he draws on your body. “‘Cause I wanna see you.”
“Mmmmhm. Doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Then I’ll…”
You don’t speak further; busy with your further advances. Your pussy feels lonely the moment you let him slip out. You’re terribly wobbly on your knees, your thighs visibly shaking as you turn around.
Jungkook holds a hand towards you, a safety net in case you tip over. He holds your wrist gently as you move over the mattress; never more than now are you glad that his isn’t as soft as yours back at the house.
Keeping your balance, you straddle him again, back in a similar position, albeit finally facing him now. And your eyes roll back just the moment he fills you up again.
Your legs are exhausted; the moment you start moving, you barely make it far enough, and Jungkook notices immediately, whispering, “My baby tired?”
And when you nod, he holds you tight, wrapping you in his arms, and—
“Hold– hold onto me, okay?”
You do. And then — he thrusts up once.
When your head falls, his eyelids drop a little, nose touching your jaw as he says, “I could fuck you all goddamn day.”
“Do it… you can now.” His head descends to your chest, mouth open. You’re not sure what you’re opting for, but you still call his name, “Kook…”
Repeatedly lunging in, he collects the words he needs to say, so irresistibly frenzied when he vows, “I’m yours. Okay? And… I need you to stay. Am yours, baby.”
Out of nowhere — or maybe not. Maybe these very sentiments were swimming in his eyes all the time; you could just not see them yet.
Lips a hair width apart, you opt for one single kiss, only a ghost touch. You tell him, “Promised the world. Will promise it to you… too.”
“Good.” His nails scrape your back, and you tug at his hair. A moan tumbles out of him, transforming into words as he holds your body in place, pumping into you, “Fuck, you– feel so good. Just you. So, so good.”
“Ngh, I—”
“I know, I can… can’t breathe, either.”
He kisses your shoulder, the skin flaming under his mouth. Although late, you imitate his prior gesture, peeling off his intruding shirt as smoothly and fast as you possibly can. It’s been a wall between you for too long now; you need to see those pretty tits, too.
And once the buttons open and the shirt flies, you finally bask in the toned beauty. Soaked chest, brawny, chocolate chip nipples as hard as yours. Soon pressing into you, lips thirsting for you, slamming against your mouth.
The fever rises, the temperature akin to lava. Your sounds are desperate and wanting, and you hold onto him for dear life. And before you know it, you’re not claiming your throne anymore.
Suddenly, you find yourself floating for a moment, and then sinking into the mattress, and then curling your hands into fists and him slamming into you harder, deeper, all the way in...
Fuck.
Towering over you, he spreads your legs wide, temptingly licking his thumb before it presses down onto your swollen clit. One jab. A second. Another and another and another.
“Yes. Yes, please—” you beg and yell, letting him pound you into oblivion.
The first hint of stars already grace the darkness behind your eyelids, but then Jungkook starts delivering rapid, light slaps to your nub. He’s chasing your high as much as you are; you know. The chaos unfolding doesn’t hold him back from observing your reactions.
Only focusing on his own end of pleasure when you’re done.
Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, and you cling to his arms, his hands pushing into your waist. And it takes just a moment longer. And another second. Several more shoves, the curve of his cock dragging along your walls and your sensitive spot.
Thoroughly drenched, both of you, as he drives all of him into you. Parting your legs whenever they attempt to shut again. And the universe finally expands, a million celestial bodies dying and imploding, much like you and…
Suddenly, you’re off the cliff.
Falling into a deep ocean. Or the vast night sky. You don’t know — you don’t feel real.
All you know is that your thighs and ass are wet. That you ruined yet another sheet. That Jungkook is out of breath, fucking you through your high, ensuring that you come back to him only bit by bit, so, so slowly.
Gentler now, you feel his body subside, down to you. His skin is glowing with sweat when your eyes crack open just a slit, though they instantly drop close again when he kisses you once more.
He does it only softly this time, as if he’s trying it out. Gauging your reaction. And you do reciprocate the touch, even if weakly. You’re still too gone to look at him properly, but that doesn’t deter him from casting another spell in your heart.
Because his words reach every fibre of you. Butterflies swarm your stomach as he says, “I still can't believe that you’re staying. You did this… you fucking did this—”
“Why not? Wh–why can’t you believe it?”
“Because you’re staying with me. You stayed with me. And…”
Somewhere, it stings. That he’s surprised by constant company. By someone not leaving… by someone worth all his affection glueing themselves to him. And yet, you understand.
That’s a pain the two of you share.
He stares through your gaze, as if he’s frisking for something specific. With each passing moment, it’s like he’s realising something new, yet unable to really verbalise it.
Like something’s burning on his tongue.
But all he does whisper is, “How do I ever stay away from you now, huh?”
“Don’t.” You touch his face, and he doesn’t waste a second to lean into your touch, kissing your palm. “Please just don’t.”
“Won’t be able to… And it sucks that—”
He frees your face from your stick hair strands, still moving inside you. His own tresses hang into your forehead; his thumb touches your lower lip.
“That I can’t be with you every damn second of the day. I mean…” He leans in. Pecks your eyelids; your heart bursts. “What if I can’t move an inch from you?”
You keep staring. Unable to answer. Keep looking and drinking in every emotion laid bare in his confessions. Your misty mind feels calm; not as heavy as hours ago.
And you’re woozy; so indescribably giddy when he adds, “You… you mean so much to me.”
Damn. Damndamndamn.
And you’re fucking obsessed with him. Want his kiss on you all the time; words tattooed on your brain, etched into your soul.
“Jungkook.”
“Huh— yeah?”
“Can you…” You gulp, drooling at the thought, and then spitting it out at once, “Finish in my mouth.”
“Shit,” he exclaims, though the word is more a maniac laugh than anything else, “you know exactly you— you can’t say this to me.”
You know. Because any image of his cock ramming your throat empties his head.
Once more, he mumbles, ”Damn it,” before he’s picking up on pace. You move your hands over his broad shoulders, soon curling your fingers in to hold tight — it’s what the situation suddenly requires. Because gradually, his hips slam into you faster.
The dull sound of his thighs meeting yours repeatedly is lewd, volume increasing when he starts jackhammering into you. Your rhythmic, breathless cries become irregular and broken, turning into screams, and you feel a droplet escaping the corner of your eye.
Throat dry and jaw aching from the parted mouth, you keen from the sensitive feeling inside. You’re so full. So invigorated. Holding onto him tight, so you don’t crumble.
And just as you yell out a dozen curses, Jungkook, voice raised, states, “Fuck, fuuuck, gonna come, babe, f— open your mouth—”
You do. Instantly, tongue out, choking because it’s so much harder to breathe like that. Jungkook trembles over you, lips wet; his arms threaten to give out, letting his body nearly collapse on you, but just a moment before he does, he pulls out.
Hurrying, his knees dig closer to you, cock and ass right above your face as he holds the length between strong fingers. Secured in his palm, he strokes himself over you, glancing into your hungry eyes.
“Pretty girl,” his other digits raise your head by your chin, and his body is swinging, unstable; shoulders high. “My sweet baby… You can’t just…”
Pinching your chin fondly, he digs his cock into your mouth, still pumping the base and touching his balls. You raise your head to not suffocate in the process, and he lets your chin go to grip your hair, lifting you halfway just in time before—
His load finally spills. All of it. So much of it. Hot and sticky, thick as the ropes shoot straight into your throat. You nearly gag, keeping yourself together, swallowing diligently as he empties his balls.
There’s fucking buckets of it, shit…
You close your eyes, focusing on breathing, and once he’s done, you close your lips around his cock. Still hard, although slowly softening, you lick the remnants of his arousal and whatever’s left of you. The tastes mingle, and your head spins…
And then, he pulls back. You’re beaten, gulping, smacking away the saltiness.
Still overwhelmed from the taste, you let your head fall back onto the pillow; but your fingers still seek his touch. The mattress next to you flattens again as his knees retract, and soon enough, laying down beside you.
Both of you are too done in to speak, even less to move. So you let a few minutes pass. Then, you find his fingers, entangling them with yours; waiting a bit more.
And only when your heart rate calms a bit, you stir, hearing him suggest, “Quick shower?”
You smile. The kisses aren’t over yet.
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For a while longer, the profuse heat lingers.
The radiator is off, and some of the windows were open when you came home. And despite choosing to stay bare after the shower for some more, you don’t register any of the cold yet; you’re sheltered, safe and so, so warm.
Jungkook’s fingers keep trailing up and down way after you’re done, lips planting generous kisses to your scalp and face. He paves his way to the corner of your mouth and then up to your eyebrows; and when he reaches your nose again, you lift your head abruptly.
Chasing his kiss, even if for just a second, a hand on his cheek and shoulders rising. Occasional giggles and smiles, tickles and pinches keep you busy temporarily; you don’t know how much time passes, nor do you care.
You only snap out of your daydreams when his kisses gain on urgency, tongue diligent. A palm creeps dangerously close to your ass, threatening to slink to your beaten sex.
But your reaction is quicker than his sly attempt, and you say, “Wait— no. Can’t do it again.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Of course.” Damn his shoulder shrug. You tap his pelvis before you wrap a leg around his waist, teasing, “I didn’t feel the twitch at all.”
He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. But it’s not my fault that you’re so stubbornly sexy.”
“Stubbo—” You giggle mid-sentence, imitating the shake of his head. “I hope you know I’d let you tie me down and do whatever the fuck—”
“My god. Stop saying it like that.”
“—but my body won’t let me yet. I also still stink.”
“Stink?” He shifts dramatically, burying his nose between your tits. His voice is muffled when he asks, “Do you?”
“Stop. You’re so weird,” you scold, but the word is drenched in laughter; you forcefully lift his head again. “We still need to change the sheets and the shower was quick. Do I not?”
“You kinda do. Like cherry blossoms.”
“Shut up.”
“What? Sue me for telling the truth. My girlfriend smells like cherry blossoms.”
Oh… oh?
Wait.
Your mouth shuts tight.
Did he…
The beam that spreads on your face is almost embarrassing; surprise, joy and affection conjoin, your guts twisting. You take a breath. Feel the sparkles in your own damn eyes; tender gaze directed at him.
And the freaking flutter in your heart; the temperature in your cheeks. Do these things ever stop?
The words sink in slowly; and Jungkook takes the time to ask, “What?”
“You… you haven’t called me that yet, have you?”
He’s perplexed. Guess even to him, it was a Freudian slip, because his eyes are wider than ever. He waits, thinks for a moment; then admits, “Uhm. No. I don’t think so.”
“Well, I… like the sound of it.”
“It’s… it’s true. You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?” His eyes smile before he does; unrestrained devotion in them. “My baby?”
He says it so innocently, so sweetly that you can’t help but coo. Teasingly, you pat his cheek, telling him, “I mean I hope I am. Considering I’m moving in with you.”
“Yes. You are. Of course you are.” 
“…Girlfriend.” Sheepishly, much like a teenage girl, you keep your twinkle intact, still feeling the lasting gleam on your face. You must be reminiscent of the sun and the moon. Emboldened, you start, “Then… boyfriend. Can I ask you something?”
The term elicits similar glee in him, teeth out, grin bright. He waits wordlessly with sparkling eyes, and you touch his lip, asking, “How do you feel right now? About all that?”
“I feel… I’m in disbelief. You’re moving in with me and just. Somehow, even saying it feels surreal.” He sighs, searching for words. “I’m in disbelief and crazy for you. That’s all I know.”
Falling deeper and without an end is possible. Jungkook has taught you that; still does.
“…I was so scared you wouldn’t like me doing this,” you confess.
“What? Saying yes to being with me all the time? Sounds horrible.” He laughs. “I’m happy. And I’m happy that you’re happy, too. Okay?”
“I wasn’t for a while, you know? You make me feel good. Take me by my word and give yourself credit for it.” He needs to. He might have doubted his role in everyone else’s life so far, but his value to you needs to be clear at all times. “Not just now, Kook, but, you always make me feel good. I hope you know that.”
“I do. This time, I do…” Content, you smile; until he stalls for dramatic effect, mouth open to indicate something to come. Your beam expands to exhilarated laughter when he squeezes your ass again, adding with another snicker, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make my favourite munchkin feel good?”
“…There’s more than one?!”
Hmm…
That’s what you’d been yearning for all this time.
Because there’s something so vulnerable about your elation; the enlivened titter. About your newfound feelings. About these very first phases of a sensitive relationship. Something serene.
And the meaning behind your words keeps changing with him; carries much more weight, and makes you feel so much lighter. As if levitating on cotton clouds.
Girlfriend. Boyfriend.
Peace reigns supreme and for a while you’re hopeful enough to doubt anything could disrupt it. Even the world is quiet when you look out the window.
September isn’t yet harsh enough to cover all above pitch black, but it’s still dark grey and drab. The sky still somewhat illuminates the unruffled room through the tilted window.
But just when tranquillity reaches its peak, your phone vibrates on the bedside table; you flinch.
The screen’s shine overshadows the faded monochrome of the world. It’s unwelcome, intruding — and once you lean over, holding the blanket over your chest, you realise that the message is just as unsought.
Mom [7:12PM]: We need to talk. Mom [7:12PM]: I’m still at Charmante for another hour and a half.
…At this time?
Did you leave her this desperate?
“What is it?” a dulcet voice asks from behind.
You hear the bed creak a little, his body cold without yours. Despising the distance, he puts a gentle hand to your shoulder, planting a kiss right next to it; when you lack his desired reaction, he asks again, “Everything okay?”
“Hm?” You barely tilt your head, eyes still glued to the words that you’ve already internalised. You cover his hand with yours. “Yeah. Just. Look.”
You hold the phone into his face; the penetrant white floodlights his skin. The warm gold shines in the glow, his lips drier than before. They move as he reads, and then, they close, giving way to a hum.
The initial silence suggests that he might be thinking the same as you — to bail. To shut the phone again, slide it to the edge of the bedside table and drop back against his chest, above his heart.
But you should know Jungkook better; he won’t discourage a familial reunion, praying for a better outcome than he ever had. He’s always spoken for your relationship with them — thinking back, he has never truly badmouthed your mother.
So you’re not too surprised when he hands you the phone back, careful to not turn your mother’s two marks blue, and suggests, “Maybe you should go.”
You sigh. You don’t want to. It’s too early for confrontation; time hasn’t passed, and the issue hasn’t yet marinated. Then again, the problem might only grow if you postpone this.
But your heart is biased, angry, refusing to oblige to her demands one more time. So you ask for yet another confirmation, “Right now? But I…”
You turn back to him, shaking your head slowly, troubled. He props his head up, eyes staring down to you as you lay flat on your back, hands folded under your breasts.
“Give yourself closure, babe.”
“I got closure.”
“No,” he strikes back, fingers lifting to your jawline. He touches it lightly, brushing it delicately, “Actual closure. To finish this. And she deserves it, too, you know? She’s still waiting there, angel.”
“Jungkook, you…” You click your tongue, gaze swerving to the unlit ceiling light and then back to him. “You’re too good.”
“I’m sorry.”
You smile, and he throws a palpitation-inducing twinkle back. You know he’s right — it must have been a shock for her after all. More or less double-crossed by her own daughter, humiliated in a public setting — her brain must be frying.
Reluctantly, you stretch your arm to the side, tapping for your phone, and roll your eyes at Jungkook playfully when you open the message to type back. His body floats down, lips planting a barely-there kiss to your collarbone.
You [7:14PM]: I’ll be there in half an hour.
“Alright then…”
Your body lifts off the mattress with the idlest of movements. The afterglow might die once you’re there, but you guess you need the confrontation–fight? Argument?—to ensure more, blissful nights.
This time, you don’t bother with your clothing as much as you did when you prepared for the press conference. You slip into the first best jeans you find, throwing a cosy pullover over your torso.
Busy with the rush, you don’t notice that Jungkook isn’t standing behind you in his usual grey joggers but in jeans, too. He’s fiddling with your car keys, stuffing his wallet into a pocket, and you stare wide-eyed, waiting for an explanation.
And once your digging stare pierces through him, he reciprocates it with similar confusion, half his hand still in the pocket as he inquires, “What?”
“What are you doing?” you ask, gesturing up and down his body.
“What do you mean?”
The back and forth of questions leaves you further bewildered, and you step closer, softly snatching the keys out of his fingers as you say, “Babe… It won’t take long.”
You don’t think he quite understands — it seems that to him, it was a given this entire time that he’d accompany you to your work building. But when it seeps through, his expression changes, more relaxed.
His head tilts, blinking slowly as he assures, “I won’t let you go alone.”
“Kook—”
“It’s honestly not a big deal. You said it won’t take long, so I’ll wait outside.” He shrugs, forefinger at the nape of his neck, scratching. “Plus, I’ll just get bored here alone.”
A warm flutter engulfs your heart. You wonder how couples spend days, months, years together without burning up every moment during their togetherness. Because you don’t think you’ll ever get over the fire he sets ablaze in your lungs — how does one get accustomed to affection like this?
You don’t know.
Maybe you don’t need to know.
Not more than what his eyes say, at least.
“What did you do all the time I wasn’t here?”
His grin is playful, but there’s tender truth in his words, “Something any guy waiting for you would do,” big brown irides meet yours, fingers fiddling, “counted the seconds until I could see you again.”
Your laugh is sudden before you ask, “Is that a quote from SpongeBob?”
And the joy holds on as you leave the apartment and rush down the flight of stairs. The short comedic journey to your car is distracting — most of reality only dawns on you when you step into the car.
Reminiscent of the last time the two of you drove over to a confrontation — just a little after his vacation; just a bit before the heartbreak.
The streets are quieter and emptier at this hour, the repose enhanced by the gentle drizzle. It’s significantly darker than when you arrived home, though it hasn’t been too long since you drove this exact way in the opposite direction. Two hours?
Maybe it’s the cloudy, almost black sky, accompanied by the hushed sound of the rain that’s amplifying your fears. Because the calming ambience from a minute ago worries you the closer you get — this once, you’d rather bask in sunshine and daydreams.
But no.
Hope is on your side; you’re done worrying, right?
As you sit up straight in your seat, Jungkook glances from you from the driver’s seat, eyes shooting to and fro between you and the street. His lips part as he operates the wheel with one hand, using the other to wrap around your fingers.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, squeezing once before he lets go, brushing over the back of your hand and gripping the wheel again, “there’s just so much she can say. You made a decision as a full adult and she’ll have to accept it.”
“Yeah.” You follow the streetlamps and their warm radiance, redirecting your focus on the next as you pass each. “I hope so.”
The ride home was different; you were filled to the brim with energy and adrenaline. Your legs were putty, so he insisted for you to freeze on the passenger’s seat, reluctant to hand you the keys to drive.
You were waiting for the streets to end, to shut his door behind you, and to breathe and sigh through a sleepless night with him. The anticipation, combined with the aftermath of the press conference made you restless — you wouldn’t stop gnawing on your thumb.
And he didn’t interrupt your thoughts, let you flick through them until he finally looked at you at a traffic light. Raising the back of his digits to your cheek, assuring, “It’s okay, angel.”
Maybe the breathy tone and the hundred promises wrapped into one reassurance prompted your reaction at his place at all.
Jungkook turns into your work street, and you hold your breath. Your heart knocks violently against your ribcage, disabling a proper thread of thoughts. Which is a shame, because you really wanted to draw a collection of snappy remarks you could retort in there.
Instead, you merely look at the entrance far at the end of the street, unmoving as Jungkook moves into a parking lot and kills the engine. You blink; then blink some more. The gulp, you think, is audible in the small space of the car.
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.
“No… I don’t think she’d want that.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, leaning forward to pinch your chin between two fingers. He moves your head toward him, eyes a liquid, wavy ocean at night. Affectionate. “She’s your mom. Despite everything, I know she loves you.”
“I don’t know…”
“She does. I saw it the night I picked you up and I saw it Monday morning, too. So.” The head tilt, the soft curve of his eyebrows, the care in his pupils — they’re a healing bandage around your heart. “Don’t be scared.”
He leans over the centre console armrest, still holding your face in his grasp, and presses his lips just barely, sweetly to your wrinkled forehead. You think the muscles react immediately, temples relaxing.
For a second, he lingers, and then he pulls back a fraction, looking at you from an inch-wide distance, and whispers, “Don’t be. I’ll be here all the time.”
Right — armour-clad, like a knight. You finally nod, a weight dropping off your heart. You cement his smile deeper into your mind; a coping strategy in case things escalate in there.
Once more, you squint at the entrance doors, though barely visible from here. Hand on the handle, you say, “If I’m not out in twenty minutes, call the police.”
Jungkook tsks, eyes rolling with badly hidden amusement, ordering, “Just go. Will be here.”
Yes. Breathe.
He’ll be right here when you come back. And it’ll all be over then.
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The building feels sinister, empty like this. Nothing of the busy and lively mood remains; the lack of the chatter and footsteps drenches the entrance hall in gloom.
It reminds you of horror movie locations; you can’t help but hesitate as you walk in.
Especially today, the silence is unbearably odd; the press isn’t lurking anymore, isn’t swarming you anymore. You don’t want to imagine how hard it must’ve been to convince the reporters to finally leave.
You sigh…
In less than a day, they’ll have today’s highlights printed in newspapers and posted; feasting. Big, bold headlines will narrate the words you uttered; of course they will. With your family relishing a local celebrity status, the media would be damned if it didn’t make any profit out of you.
For the first time, however… you don’t care. You inhale.
And as you walk past the glass walls and up the stairs, clutching your work keys, you don’t feel the overwhelming urge to run away from this place anymore.
You’ve liked your job since you started, no doubt, despite your initial worries and fears. But the thought of losing against the world, or of losing him terrified you. Maybe you were too naive to fight those who wished you harm mere months ago, freshly out of college.
But now that you realise that you won’t be roaming these hallways in a couple weeks, that you have dropped the mic in a way they won’t be able to pick it up to hurt you again, you feel relieved. 
Feel a sense of responsibility. Like an adult.
Okay.
She told you she’d wait in an unoccupied office on the first floor — you usually frequent it with Zara, sifting through theories and changes. You wonder why your mother didn’t settle on her own office — then again, you imagine it must hurt to suffer defeat in the very room where she’s supposed to reign.
As you reach the room, your fist lifts to the door. Though you soon realise that it might be entirely unnecessary, judging the slight gap and the soft noise from within. So you gently push the ajar door open, met with a tired figure behind an imposing desk.
She’s lost in thought, but as you enter, her gaze slowly ascends, her posture reclining. And you see it immediately.
The usually cold eyes, now brimming with disappointment and sorrow.
Her eyes flit, as you assume unintentionally, into a corner. She dodges a simple greeting when you mumble a timid, “Hi,” and you drop the formalities right away. Don’t even attempt to sit — stand there, towering in front of her, not intending to stay long anyway.
And it seems her thoughts and intentions align, because she refuses to beat around the bush, a weary voice asking, “Why did you do that?”
“Mmh… You’re asking like I shouldn’t have.”
“Because you shouldn’t have.” Typical. Her point of view will always be her only truth. You listen on, but can’t help but tense. “Your father and I built this for you, and we intended to forward it to you. You know that.”
You don’t like that tone; you never have. It always ran over your spine as a shiver, weakening your knees. Even today, you’re conditioned to buckle just a bit. You exhale.
“Mom, have you ever heard yourself speak? You’ve never even remotely tried giving me anything else that way,” you complain, leaning to clutch the chair with one hand, the other gesturing around the room. “You built this stupid empire for yourself and kept it intact for me, so I can continue your work.”
You huff out a mocking breath, shaking your head just a little. “You never even asked me. You just told me to do it all.”
Her voice is sharper when she responds, “We didn’t hand it to you to make you suffer, for god’s sake.” She’s irritated, eyebrows deeply furrowed. “Christ, you were supposed to have a good future.”
“Yes, and I will! I’m happier than I have been all summer. Do you even have any idea what happened during that time?!”
You pause. She doesn’t answer, clearly sorting out a hundred answers.
Because a lot happened — most of it a direct effect of her or the media’s bullshit. Of course she won’t be able to pick out just one single thing.
So you explain, “Did you even understand that Jungkook broke up with me because of the thing you pulled with that dumb journalist?” You spit the word like a curse, grimacing. “And that he avoided me because he thought he was ruining me?”
You try to make it sound as ridiculous as you can muster, wondering if the realisation is dawning on her. 
“Did you even notice how I didn’t come out of my room for da—”
“Just why,” she interrupts, eyes shutting tight in disbelief and agitation, palms toward the ceiling, “would you jeopardise your life and emotions because of him?”
Jeopardise. Holy fuck.
She has a whack understanding of villainhood.
“Because he’s important to me! You can’t even imagine how hurtful it is to only be talking about work to you. You never ask me if I eat or sleep enough. You didn’t even give me a graduation present. He did! But you wouldn’t know!”
You think back to the lamp in your room, the one she has never seen — remember the dark ceiling, the aurora and stars projected to it. The touches that followed.
“He’s unbelievably important to me, Mom. Okay?”
“You’ve been with him for just a while.”
You grit your teeth. It’s like talking to a wall; a daycare child would catch the sentiment better than her.
“Yeah,” you say, scoffing, “and it makes me embarrassed for you, because I’ve known you my entire life and you never cared this much. Like, fuck, even Dad did.”
Her jaw clenches as you swear, nostrils close to flaring as you concede more pain, “Jungkook actually makes me feel human.” There’s a sting in your eyes. You blink it away. “I’ve been feeling like a person, which just… made me understand that—”
You gulp, your throat tied and your head heavier now. You wait, shrugging. Then—
“That I can receive affection, too.”
Your friends are your first memory of care; barring them, you only had a faint idea of what devotion entailed. Learning what it means to be genuinely important to someone had been on your bucket list — this year, you ticked it off.
“I just hate that he had to glue me together first for me to understand.”
Because she broke you first. The contrast couldn’t be more crystal clear.
She doesn’t dig your monologue. Her countenance fills with different shades of ridicule and embarrassment, shreds of anger thrown into the mix. Filed nails tap against an open folder, the other hand rubbing her forehead.
“You sound ridiculous,” she derides, “you can’t throw your future away because of love. It won’t pay your bills.”
“I’m gonna be a manager, though. I’ll pay my fucking bills. And Jungkook is working his way up, too.” Your latter statement gains a sceptical stare, followed by a skyrocketing eyebrow. It satisfies you. “He is. He’s getting his own part at an exhibition. We’ll be fine.”
She frowns, mouth already agape as she psyches herself up for another answer, and you already roll your eyes, prepared to interrupt.
“You—”
“You were so grateful last weekend,” you argue.
“Because you almost killed yourself!”
“No! If you’re so worried, then call! You could’ve called and asked where I was like mothers do. Made sure I was well and not drunk out of my mind!”
“Stop it,” she stands, her voice as damaging as a serrated knife. You flinch as she charges for you, and you breathe out, ready for a slap — but her body halts in front of yours. “How do you expect to run from this just by switching to another company? Novaura’s still mine, too.”
No…
You hold your breath. Straighten your back, hands sweaty as your nails dig in. She’s been predictable half her life; not always quite vile. But you know what she’ll say next, and you know it’ll be the most odious thing she’s ever uttered.
“And I could keep you here if I wanted to. They’d throw you out if I told them, too.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you blink, scorning, “You’re serious?”
A breath of laughter escapes your chest, and you shake your head in disbelief. You’re done.
You press your lips into a thin line before smacking them, nodding in faux agreement before you say, “Okay. Go ahead. But if you do, I won’t shut up this time. Today, I was being nice. I praised you, and none of my nice talk was actually deserved.”
Choosing your words carefully, you pronounce every syllable as if explaining molecular biology. She listens, not spitting an answer immediately.
So you challenge further, “You want to throw me out? Do it. It’s your reputation. I didn’t say anything wrong at the conference today, because it’s my right to choose the career I want. You’d be abandoning your own daughter if you pulled this through.”
You have her attention. Her lips stay sealed.
“And when they ask me,” you continue, eyes now fiery; you’re so done. So, so done. “I will let them know that you did it out of spite. Try finding an excuse why you did when we’re there. I won’t be at any disadvantage.”
You press into your palms one more time, relaxing your jaw, and opt to turn and walk away. Hurling one more glare towards her, you spit, “I have a degree, just a reminder.”
And that should be it.
Pride unfurls across your chest, warm in your stomach as you take long strides out of her office. You hear the quiet call of your name, suddenly desperate. But now that you’ve said your part of the truth, you don’t turn around anymore.
Only shut the door behind you hard; shutting all she’d hoped for with it.
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Despite the satisfaction still bubbling in your stomach, you can’t shake the clump in your throat and the anxiety in your heart. The post-fight adrenaline pumps through your veins, and your fingers shake.
There’s discomfort in deserting your own mother; the irrational fears were to be expected. You didn’t do anything wrong, you know, you know. But your organ still thumps like drums, and you lift a hand to your chest. A vain attempt to calm your breathing.
And then… something miraculous happens.
The brisky gust of the evening brushes your cheeks; the bright lights of the city contribute to your sudden peace. They’re a reminder that the world is far wider than this damn building. Than her.
But more than anything, your worries dissipate when the strolling figure grows in your sight. As you walk the short distance to your car, you feel your heart lighten — your forehead and temples relax.
He has his hands on his waist, chin slightly raised as if watching the stars that hide in the city sky anyway. His steps are small, and his eyebrows calm. He looks serene.
And once his hands slide into his open jacket’s pockets, he looks down the street again, surprised when you’re mere steps apart.
“Ah,” he voices, one palm already out as he stretches it toward you, “barely fifteen minutes. I was about to come in.”
Deep sigh in, you let his arm pull you in his embrace, swiftly wrapped around your torso. He smells like fresh clothes, after-rain, and vibrant, like the lights in the sky.
Your arms sling around his body with an urgency, and you muffle your voice against his chest as you ask, “Already?”
“Already?” he repeats, though dragging the word more than you did. His arm squeezes you once as his other hand escapes his pocket, too, stroking your head. “Those weren’t days? I swear I felt myself ageing in there.”
Your fist thumps against his chest lightly, and you giggle against his sweater. “Don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes slowly unfocusing, you rub the zipper teeth of his jacket between your fingers, softly mumbling, “Thank you for being here. You’re the best.”
You feel a movement over your head; he’s lowering his chin to your hair, still caressing your head as if lulling you into sleep. And it’s working — you feel drowsier by the second.
But then, his chest rumbles as he hums, cautious as he asks, “Are you okay?”
Are you?
You’re about to start a new life where you desire, with whom you desire. Finding permanent residency in his presence the way he finds it in your thoughts.
A few more steps, and you can make yourself home. Not in those rooms, but in him. Because that’s what he is.
A blanket, a radiator, the comforting voice that soothes and heals. Worshipping you within the same four walls every single day.
You’re not just okay — you’re craving.
Leaving his warmth and scent, you lean back and look at him. His eyes are as big as you’re used to, awaiting an answer, genuinely curious. Your heart threatens to burst; the sting is painfully sweet.
“Yeah,” you answer, touching the purple sweater, “I promise I am.”
Because. Because that’s all you ever wanted.
It’s over. You’re going home — you are home.
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You can’t remember whether it was your fingers clawing into Jungkook’s shirt or his hand brushing through your hair that kept you in the sheets twenty minutes longer than anticipated.
The plan was to snooze once and get into a routine with divided work. One prepares breakfast, the other makes the bed and cleans up before leaving the apartment.
But it seems that so far, your routine has consisted of lazy mornings. Tired hums. Quiet, hushed and slightly hoarse good mornings and entangled limbs.
You pressed between his shoulder blades as he strokes your head, planting kisses on your temple and your forehead.
“Slept well?” he asked today. Another peck in between. Then, drowsy and sighing, “Is the mattress okay, by the way? I like the firmer ones better since they’re good for your back, but I know you had a softer one, so if you need…”
“No, not at all,” you promised, warm and safe under the covers. “This is perfect.”
No… the softness wasn’t needed. Your muscles were so relaxed, you were sinking into the bed anyway. Sleeping a dent into it. At peace as his nails gently scraped over your scalp, massaging and caressing.
He could’ve lulled you into sleep like that; and his voice served as soft, white background noise. The words he used. The honey sweet tone. The past tense in what you had, and what you have now.
If you hadn’t been so lethargic, you would’ve floated through your chores. But when the clock ticked too dangerously fast and brought your working hours sickeningly close, you decided to eat out instead.
You always fool around at breakfast too much — stretching it longer than it needs to be. A café was, surprisingly, the smarter, more time-efficient option.
And a great opportunity and excuse to explore the places near you. Jungkook promised there was an amazing bakery nearby, and you trudged along, tummy rumbling, now that you weren’t in bed with him and satiated anymore.
“You’re sure you’ll be at home by the evening?”
You gather the remaining crumbs of your pastry with the pad of your thumb, waiting for Jungkook to slurp the last of his coffee. He nods, soon answering, “Mhm. I won’t be at work for long. Might come home before you do, actually.”
“Okay,” you suckle at your thumb, shoulders relaxing as you stare at the drizzle outside. The day started out grey. “And then tomorrow, I’ll be off work by the afternoon, so I should be able to bring more things over from the house.”
Tired from the morning, your eyes remain on the customers trudging in and out of the café. They shake the water drops off their umbrellas, or sigh at the prospect of stepping out into the rain again. 
Their expressions aren’t quite dispirited, but… perhaps a little dim.
You raise a side of your lips in empathy, and then continue, “And then on Saturday, I’m getting the truck to the house, for the rest of my stuff.”
“Babe,” Jungkook interrupts, pausing to smack the coffee’s taste away. His hand slides over the table, wrapping his fingers around three of yours. “Let me come with you tomorrow. You’re already doing too much.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t drag you there unless I absolutely have to. Besides,” your voice is soft when you lean forward, raising your entangled digits to your lower lip. “You’ve been busy plenty, too.”
And it’s true.
He’s been taking care of the apartment and cooking dinner these days. Organising documents with you, so you have whatever needed to change your address and whatnot. Doing small purchases for the household and vacating some of the closet to make place for your stuff.
Two weeks have passed since the press conference — and Jungkook has been a pillar of strength and sanity as much as you have been his. You communicate each night, regulating finances, dividing roles and sharing comfort.
You don’t think you’ve ever witnessed or felt a relationship as symbiotic as this one… and you’re just starting out.
His thumb brushes over your fingers, still reassuring you, much as you expected, “I honestly don’t mind.”
“It’s okay,” you argue, “we still have a lot more to do. Save your energy for that. I’d still love these deco vines for the living room, remember? Let’s get them together.”
Your words are breathy, as if you’re being reborn. A breeze of refreshment — and he feels it, too. There’s something about the thought of simplicity livening up your bustling days.
Mundane tasks, like shopping for casual things together.
Groceries. Decoration. Plants.
With all the planning of switching work and homes, the two of you have been incredibly breathless. You even told him about a meeting at your new place today, a discussion about trivial matters, general know-how and preparation you need to do.
The sliver of stress is visible in your eyes — you’ll be seeing the other managers today. And you’re nervous about it, unsure what vibe the meeting might set.
But despite the stress, you’ve been as bright as Venus in the night sky. He understands. If anyone does, then him.
Because the idea of strolling through Ikea's tableware department is balm to his mind. Your laughter sounding through its hallways, half your body leaning over the shopping cart, because you surely seem like the type to do so.
His voice is as gentle as the mizzle outside when he promises, “We’ll get anything you want.”
“Really?” Your smile is radiant, cheeks glowing as you press the lightest kiss to one of his knuckles. “Sounds good to me.” 
Time passing has always been a bummer. Despite the quiet noise in the café, the clock ticks as if in a deafening volume, a reminder that you need to let this hand go soon.
Sometimes, you do worry. About the attachment, and the healthy obsession with him. And on the other side, about every moment he worships you, and every second he misses you.
How there’s discomfort in being apart, even if for mere hours. Maybe that’s why he holds you so tight at night. Or why you’re constantly itching to get home.
Perhaps there’s a lingering fear that your time separated brought, a sneaking anxiety of being dragged apart again.
Yet, instead of dwelling in improbable what-ifs, you breathe in the air of the room, direct your senses away from the clock and toward the increasing patter of rain against the window panes. 
You squeeze the fingers around you harder, delving into one last soft conversation as you ask, “You’re at lunch with Joon later, right?”
“Yeah, he promised me burgers today.”
“What for again?”
“Because I’m his favourite staff member?” Jungkook lifts your hand to your mouth when you open it, shushing you with your own fingers. “Don’t say it. I am his favourite staff member.”
“‘Kay. Understandable.”
“You know…” He shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly, but the soft drop of his gaze, fingers fiddling and toying with yours betrays him. He’s still so delicate around you. “If you want, you can join.”
“Oh. Mmmh,” you think for a moment, but then click your tongue, insisting, “it’d be weird, I think. Dunno if he’d want it.”
“I would want it.”
He always does.
Yearning. Obsession. A humane way of falling in love.
You feel like a person. No matter how odd the phrase might sound in your head, the painful truth behind it is undeniable. You feel like a person.
“Okay,” you reply, slowly reclaiming your hand, reluctantly preparing to leave. “I’ll see if I find time and energy during my lunch break.” You halt, unblinking, before you look back at him with squinting, uncertain eyes. “Totes Bag Street, was it?”
The sudden, choking laugh erupting out of Jungkook is a surprise. If his coffee cup wasn’t empty yet, he’d still be sipping, probably ruining the white, silky shirt you’re sporting today.
You actually mean it, don’t you?
His trademark laugh is high-pitched, melodious, though a little more controlled in the public space, but the flashing of his teeth and his dimples implies genuine joy.
You already know: the lighthearted banter has become a hallmark of your connection. Doesn’t get old. Heartwarming — albeit right now, very confusing to you.
So you cock an eyebrow, questioning, “What?”
“Babe,” he simply mutters, hands coming together in a mock prayer. “Shit, you’re so fucking cute.”
He lowers his head between his shoulders, torso shaking, and you pull his palms apart again to dig with another, ”Hey. What?”
“Boats Track Street. Not Totes Bag Street,” he corrects, endeared by your wide eyes. The back of two of his fingers grazes your temple, and then down your face, before playfully pinching your chin. “You’re so cute. And a dummy. I mean it.”
“You’re a dummy,” you reply, forcing your face back and out of his grip. “Besides, that’s a pretty stupid name.”
“To be fair… I agree.”
A hesitant smile spreading on your face, your gaze wanders to the clock at the opposite wall again. The beam drops a little, giving way to a small sigh.
“It’s okay. I’ll probably be busy anyway… will join you guys another time.” You shove the chair back, getting off with a fatigued groan and a hand rubbing your tummy. “And I feel a bit weird today, too. Shouldn’t have eaten before bed because I’m feeling the effects right now.”
“Ahhh, I told you. No worries. I’ll make you something light tonight. And some peppermint tea.” His hands wave you goodbye, making a begone motion. “Go for now. The longer you stay, the worse the next hours will be for me.”
“Dork. You must survive.”
You huff, eyes rolling at the dramatics, and push your bag behind your body before you lean into him. A hand on his cheek, you watch his eyes close, setting your lips onto his.
The two-second long goodbye peck remains just that before his fingers, pushing against the nape of your neck, tug you in again.
Against your lips, he mutters, “Eat, okay? Call if your stomach bothers you. Anytime. And don’t be nervous. You’ll have fun.”
And before you can answer, he kisses you again.
Once, and then twice more. Your guts somersault, even when he finally lets you go. Your lungs feel dry all of a sudden.
All you have left in you is to nod. For your wobbly legs to step away. Looking back a few more times until the door opens, the bell chiming, your transparent flower umbrella spreading over your head.
Jungkook watches as your careful steps wander away, your head never lowered like every other passerby’s. They’re hiding from the rain, but you’re staring up, observing the movement of the clouds before your focus falls on the road — and a minute later, you disappear out of his sight.
His chest and muscles relax, a quiet laughter still tumbling out as he repeats, “Totes Bag Street.”
The sky may be colourless. The people might look into the world dimly.
But despite the rain tapping against the window, no inch of you is painted in a dismal, drab grey. You’re the brilliant, gleaming sun.
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The location of your new job isn’t as fancy as the area around Charmante. The building certainly isn’t made of reflecting glass throughout.
There’s wood and actual walls; not every door opens with a chip, but a key, and the luxuries are limited. Compared to your old building, this one is humble, but it still oozes wealth and success — guess that’s what a subsidiary looks like.
The meeting room for today is somewhere on the third floor. Your mind races as you fix your clothes in the elevator, throwing regular glances into the mirror to guarantee that your hair sits as perfectly as three seconds prior.
You breathe deeply, exhale through a rounded mouth. Whether it’s this meeting or something you ate, your stomach does not feel great.
As the nerves start kicking in, you think of Jungkook’s hand in yours and the everlasting smile. You use him as your safe place; close your eyes for those few seconds that the elevator floats up.
And it works. Feels like an oasis, calm and lovely.
That is, until the bell pings, forcing your eyes open. You stare up at the number, nearly stepping out until you realise that — you’re not on the third, but on the second floor. Were you supposed to halt here?
No. And there’s nobody outside, waiting.
Until, someone is.
Rushed steps move to the elevator, a nice but stressed voice urging, “Ah! Keep the doors open, I’m coming!”
Strange. Oddly familiar voice.
You can’t say why, but you already prepare a polite smile, trying not to let the ticking seconds stress you out. Rationally, you know you’re not late, but the time passing messes with your nerves.
And it seems it doesn’t get better when the figure finally rushes in, pressing the already lit number 3 before he says, “Good. Just in time.” Looks back at you, delighted as if he expected you somewhere around, and adds, “Ah! Hello!
It takes a moment. Then another.
One more until you figure out who he is, why you feel like hurling and how maybe, just maybe, he might be heading to the same room as you — as another new manager of Novaura.
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You blow a raspberry at the boxes in your backseat. 
Deciding to at least take your favourite box up with you, you leave the rest here for now; you don’t want to bug Jungkook yet. You can heave it all upstairs on the weekend, in peace.
It’s only moderately heavy — but with both your hands busy, the task is a hassle. You secure it under your arm as you close the door of your vehicle with your hip, clutching the phone previously tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
You straighten your head, reflexively looking up to Jungkook’s apartment window. To your apartment window. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue just yet.
Somehow managing to open the entrance door, you sigh into the phone, giving Taehyung a relieved, “I’m finally back home.”
“Mmmh,” Taehyung voices, and you imagine his full lips in a line, tiny nods serious, “how’s it feel? Knowing that this is where you’re gonna be for the foreseeable future?”
“It feels… quiet.”
“What, he bore you to death like that?”
You giggle, taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase; though slightly irritated by the slowly and constantly slipping box. You heave it back up.
“Absolutely. You’ve no idea, really.”
Taehyung laughs, but your joke doesn’t stick for long. You feel bad immediately — even in a playful tone, your heart knows nothing for Jungkook but praise. You guess that’s how kindness affects people.
And your brain stays mean, prolonging your pout — because it conjures pictures of a crooked smile, wrinkles around tender eyes, a tilted head as shoulders rise when the laughter reaches its peak…
A sting jabs your chest.
The longing is unbearable, and you’re barely another level from the apartment. He’s waiting for you on the other side of that flat’s door, and you know his pupils will widen in his dark brown eyes the moment they fall on you.
“No, that feels horrible to say,” you correct, shaking your head. You pause in the middle of the staircase for a moment, gaze fixated on a dirty spot before you shake your head once more. “You know Jungkook. If he’s not joy personified, then I don’t know.”
And it’s true — despite his own demons, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone spread this much comfort.
“I just meant that my mind’s been quiet. And a lot more peaceful. Not a hundred worries whirling around anymore,” you tell him, your steps upward slower now.
“Just ninety-nine, huh?”
You smile. “Maybe. But he’s not one of them.”
Dull background noise interrupts your thoughts; Taehyung doesn’t respond to you, but reprimands Yoongi in a distant mumble. He’s been doing it since he called, covering his phone to argue with his friend.
Apparently, Yoongi had been with him for hours before you picked up Taehyung’s call; they’ve been settling the rest of the arrangements, scurrying through paperwork. The apartment you considered is entirely their adventure now, but you aided in anything they needed.
Which basically just meant clearing things with the landlord and then answering his new tenant’s million questions. 
As in — how were you thinking of decorating it? Why were you going to take it? Did you calculate monthly costs including rent, water and gas? You didn’t mind, because Yoongi might be one of the most polite people you have ever met.
But it seems he’s reluctant to return to his dorm’s lonely walls, too.
Because Taehyung values alone-time, and Yoongi hasn’t granted it for hours. You feel kinda bad for Yoongi. And while the younger man attempts his hardest to maintain the gentle tone, you hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“I’ll drive you home after this, ‘kay?” he tells Yoongi; you snicker at the groan that returns. “You got this, bro.” Attention back to you, a murmur of your name. “Anyway. Everything should be good now.”
“I’m glad. That was… quite something.”
A euphemism, really. The handful of visits weren’t fun; not to mention the stuff you had to get over with for your own move. And then all those calls. You needed minutes upon minutes of preparation for each of them. One hell of a businesswoman, you are.
“No, say it as it is. ‘Cause it knocked me the fuck out. You guys really had to drag me into this.”
You feel guilty about making Taehyung your spokesman here; but as an already residing individual of the building, he was a great support in this matter. 
“We— love you,” you tell him, inhaling deeply between your words. You rub the dirt off your soles on the welcoming mat and hold the box tight, not opening the door yet. “Tell your forehead to feel kissed.”
“Nah. You’re gonna upset Eun.”
“Why? Eun and I are more in love then the two of you might ever be. She’ll choose my side.”
“Ha. Fair. Whatever.” His voice doesn’t carry an ounce of solemnity. Once again, you imagine him pulling a face, waving your statement off. “Enjoy your life. Your voice has been echo-y forever. Also, don’t forget to talk to Jungkook about what we discussed.”
Ah… yeah. There’s more than just one thing you need to clear, actually.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” you confirm, though arguing, “I’m surprised you haven’t done it yet.”
“You do it. I know he’ll like hearing it from you better.” He pauses to answer his friend; you don’t even know what he said. “Okay. I’ll go grappling with Yoongi then.”
“Good luck.”
“Buy me sushi.”
One last laugh before you cut the call.
The clicking sound of your keys turning in the lock is music to your ears and balm to your feet. You skip the threshold with a relieved release of air; the apartment smells like diffusers, so warm compared to the declining temperatures outside.
You don’t hear a movement until you get to your knees, seating the box next to the shoe cabinet. As you start working on your jacket, you register a shuffle from the living room, but no voice — Jungkook said he’d be home before you. Perhaps he’s painting; or gaming.
A short text message during lunch assured him he could start dinner without you; deep down, however, you understood he wouldn’t listen anyway. And the obvious lack of aromatic scents wafting from the living room proves it.
You don’t enjoy eating alone — and he knows.
Clearing your throat, you announce your arrival, bent as you take your shoes off and rub your aching heels for a moment. You wish you could float. Offer them reprieve.
Stumbling in the anteroom, you wait for a greeting, but it seems he didn’t hear or notice you. You lick your lips, standing straight, and then speak into the hallway—
“I swear I don’t have a foot fetish,” a short pause — nothing, “but can you massage my feet again today?” You wait. Not a word comes back. So you joke, “Actually, just massage my whole body? I don’t mind. Need some hands-on relaxation.”
Subjectively, you think you’re hilarious. You giggle on your way to the living room, cheerful despite the jam-packed day — but your laughter ebbs down soon. Because he’s standing in the middle of the room, lips pressed into a tiny smile, head lowered, hands in his pockets.
And right in front of him, a timid woman in a coat. Blinking at you.
Your eyes dodge her gaze immediately. It’s an impolite reflex, heart pounding as you watch Jungkook’s hand lift to his forehead, hiding behind his bangs as he rubs. When he looks at you again, there’s an equal amount of worry and amusement in his expression.
“Shit,” you mumble, another mishap, and you continue cursing internally. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And then, “I’m sorry.”
She looks like him. Same sweet aura, short hair, big eyes.
Her right digits are wrapped around the fingers of her other hand, mouth shut tight, though smiling. She knows less what to say than you, and the moment stretches and stretches and does not end and—
“Hi,” you finally murmur, bowing slightly before you cringe. Too much? Not enough? You clear your throat again, and then introduce yourself quietly. “You must be Mrs. Jeon. I… I didn’t know you’d be here or I would’ve come earlier! I’m very sorry.”
Are you rambling?
How horrid. You’d feel so uncomfortable if you were her.
Only, she barely showcases any sign of displeasure or irritation. Despite striking you as an introvert, her movements soon prove confidence — the type to know what she’s saying or doing, but in a humble and gentle way.
She unfolds her fingers and lets them dangle, soon moving up to clutch the strap of her bag. Looking between Jungkook and you once, she raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, as if to promise that there’s no reason for any tension.
You sigh when she speaks, “Oh, it’s alright. I didn’t stay long and I need to go in a minute anyway.”
“Oh?”
“I was going to leave ages ago, but,” she points to her son with rolling eyes, and the man in question shrugs in faux guilt before she speaks on, “that one wanted me to see you for at least a second. I wanted to meet you properly… prepare dinner and all, but. It’s still nice to meet you.”
Her eyes are kind, taking you in; if you could guess, you’d say she’s… excited. Urging to finally speak to her son’s girlfriend.
She moves a teeny tiny bit, as if opting to offer her palm to you, or to— maybe hug you? But maybe she realises the timing, or sees your terrified expression, because she holds back for now politely.
“I see. It’s wonderful to meet you, too.” Incredible how you spoke about initiatives just this morning, rambling in the office until someone had to interrupt you for their own turn. Now, you can’t get a word out. “But, I… I am still sorry I barged in so rudely.”
She grimaces, moving closer to you with a waving motion, “You didn’t barge into your own apartment. It’s all good.”
Jungkook doesn’t interrupt much; doesn’t interfere with his own jests and statements. They mirror each other so much, though. In the way they smile, and in the way they talk.
Even the manner in which she places her hand on your arm, reassuring you, delivers the same warmth. You tense for a moment, not quite expecting the touch; but it’s motherly. Soft. 
A new emotion floods your heart, but you can’t decode it. Too many thoughts streaming in, brain working overtime to come up with a full sentence without stuttering, without those dumb hesitation markers that your studies taught you to avoid.
And maybe you’ve succeeded — only, the clump in your throat, accompanied by a strange twist in your stomach builds a barrier now.
Her touch feels… good.
“Do you… would you like to sit?” you ask, voice softer by an infinite amount. “I have a variety of tea here, and you could choose one. If you…”
You want to talk. About whatever. Not the slip occurring a couple minutes ago; maybe you just finally want to know who made Jungkook the man he is today. It wasn’t necessarily his father, was he?
Somewhere, this incessant, constant comfort derived from. But.
“I’d like nothing more than that,” she admits, “but I have massage therapy in a bit, and should get going. An adult’s back.” You laugh, and she gestures towards you with an open palm. “Oh, don’t you work in an office? Take care of yourself, too.”
“Not just an office, Mom,” Jungkook interrupts, inching closer until next to you and rubbing your back, proud, “she’s a manager. She walks around a lot, so the problem are,” he nods toward your feet, “these.”
True. Just today alone, your heels made it feel like you ran a marathon. Learning about each corner and wandering around that building drained you.
“Ah… I thought so,” she says.
You blink in faint confusion until you realise. Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, brief but telling, and his mother smiles in awkward amusement. Hell.
Your blood shoots back into your face, warming it thoroughly, and just before you can opt for another apology, she says, “You have him to take care of you. Make him spoil you! You do, don’t you?”
Her voice changes the moment she faces her son, a little strict but all in good fun; her eyes squint and he exclaims, “I do!” the moment you defend, “Oh, he does! He definitely does.”
She seems to like this. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, similar to the one you already know; perhaps she’s just as endeared as mothers–usually?–get, realising their children are happy and settling.
“We take care of each other,” you tell her then, and she responds with a content nod.
“Good. It’d be a shame if not. Taught him how to treat people.”
“He knows for sure, ma’am. I don’t think you’ll ever need to worry about that.”
You’re careful with your gestures, your smiles, your movements. Even though she’s made clear as day that she’s not to fear, you still shift your entire focus on the delivery of your words.
If you weren’t, you’d be more lax. Looking through the room, exchanging glances with Jungkook. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d notice that he’s playing with the ends of your hair.
And you’d see the way he looks at you.
With those barely blinking, calm eyes. An ocean of fondness in them, a light, lost smile around his face. As though you’re soothing him, pumping oxygen into his lungs.
You don’t see any of it; but his mother does. And you register the drift of her pupils, the minimal upward movement in her eyebrows as she shoots a glance at him — then back at you.
But when you follow her gaze to him, he’s already snapped out of it, clearing his throat.
“You should go before you’re late,” Jungkook reminds her, removing his hand from your hair, “I’ll go spoil her as you taught me, Mama.”
“You better. Pressure’s on.”
He smirks, lopsided as he slings an arm around her shoulder. She’s so much smaller than him. “Tell Dad Hi from me.”
A slight drop of his lips. He doesn’t look at her but the ground. Tell-tale signs of a distant ache, hidden behind an attempt to find a cure.
The sting is palpable, right in the middle of your heart, but it dissipates bit by bit as he smiles at you again. Genuine once more, back to where he was only five seconds ago.
You nod at her, one last, non-verbal confirmation that you feel cosy here. There’s something inarguably sweet in her instant care. How she instantly roots for your happiness. How she’s pouring all her empathy into you with a single look.
A stare that usually understands someone else’s pain; and then hopes for eternal peace for them.
She doesn’t even know you — does she? You wonder if he ever did speak about you.
“Okay then. Tell me if you need anything,” she says it to Jungkook, but promptly turns to you, promising you, “you can, too. Of course.”
“I will. Thank you so much.”
Purse lifted further up her shoulder, she starts a move toward the exit, already starting to wave you goodbye before she suddenly stops. Looks at you, and blurts, “Oh, and— has he uhhh…?”
She starts the sentence with hesitation, ending it with uncertainty and a look over her shoulder. You follow her eyes, barely catching him throwing a warning sign. His eyes are ripped open, head delivering tiny shakes, but he returns to normal the moment he catches you staring.
Okay. Something happened there that you’re not part of.
But that you’re supposed to be part of? You don’t know.
You’re curious, though. Already aware of what you’ll be pestering him with tonight.
She shuts up, letting out a short, tiny breath. Her small, sweet fingers curl just once before she releases them again, and she flattens her coat, nodding.
“I’ll leave you two alone then,” she declares.
“You should stay for dinner next time, though!” you offer.
“Of course. I’m eating with my husband after the appointment, so he’ll probably already be waiting, but. Next time for sure. And you should come, too, someday.”
Right. 
It doesn’t stop. It’s permanently odd hearing someone talking about that man other than Jungkook. Shouldn’t be, because she’s the closest and dearest individual to him, sharing a home and marital bed. But…
It’s like people don’t quite feel real from stories until one actually faces them. His mom’s subtle, harmless words about her husband make him feel realer, and Jungkook’s issues with them.
But most of all you wonder — why has he never visited here? You wish he had. You wish he would sometimes. But she didn’t even suggest bringing him with her next time. Or how his father would be delighted about a visit, too.
It doesn’t seem to faze Jungkook. Or maybe it does, but he doesn’t let it show. Or — worse. Has he gotten used to it? His father’s absence, or the term that defines their relationship.
Because he nods, a soft smile as a son usually throws at his mother. Casual but loving. He says, “Won’t keep you here then.”
Jungkook kisses her head at the door, and she stuffs her hands in her coat, politely bidding you goodbye.
You watch as she approaches the staircase, still waving when she turns around one more time. You sigh in relief — she was friendly. No panic. You didn’t fuck up entirely.
And despite the last moments of gloom that the mention of her husband evoked, you hear Jungkook’s chuckle resonate once the door finally closes. His steps move toward the living room, his shoulders shaking.
You nearly slide down the closed door as you watch him, head falling back before he falls into a wholehearted laugh. You imagine deep, multiple crinkles around his eyes, mouth wide in joy.
Eyebrows kissing, you follow him inside, nearly bumping against him when you realise he’s standing in the middle of the room, body still shaking from the chortle. He’s facing the ground, and you hit his arm from the back.
“Shut up,” you only order, opting to walk away.
But he turns to you, a hand around your elbow; he can barely breathe when he assures, “Okay. Okay, I’ll stop. Sorry, I just—” He sniffles as you look at him, sulking and trying his gloating not to make you laugh, too. “What were you doing?”
“That’s not funny!”
“I’m not trying to be funny! I’m serious.”
Which he clearly isn’t. The smile is too infuriatingly wide, and the tug at your arm too affectionate. He’s amused and you hate–love?–that you are, too. You keep the act of agitation intact for another moment.
But pieces of you break, your heart a melting mess when you watch his eyes nearly close, nose scrunched up. His shoulders rise — they always do whenever his laughter increases, bunny teeth protruding and the mole under his mouth a magnet to your lips.
And when he raises his hands to your face, cradling it, and speaks, you lose it entirely.
“What were you even saying, munchkin, huh? You’re such a little idiot, you know?” he playfully scolds, squishing your cheeks; peppering kisses on your skin and your lips; barely allowing you a moment to talk.
“And you’re—” you say between tiny kisses, distracted by the childlike, muah-ish sound effects that accompany his pecks, “so mean.”
“And you are the sweetest thing to exist.” The lovingly aggressive touch vanishes from your cheek to be replaced by sudden pinches; your protests are high-pitched, and unfortunately, enhance his statement. “Okay, okay. Come on.”
He flicks your chin as if to provoke you further, but dodges all your teeny tiny rage to come when he moves past your body. Warning abandoned, his fingers tweak your ass as he targets the kitchen, and you yelp, instantly slapping a hand over your butt.
“Freshen up and let’s get to dinner. And hurry. Gotta give you hands-on relaxation later.”
“You’re the worst, I mean it.”
But his evil snicker isn’t.
He might make your hackles rise, and test your patience the way he used to so long ago. Back when you’d seek him out in a miniscule dorm room, eyebrows furrowed just to see him a bit longer after class.
You’re always baffled how your foundation still stands; after all the shattering and agony and stings that fractured your heart. Only now, you’ll be surrounded by the bicker every hour of the day.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Living through an odd day at work, driving around town and embarrassing yourself in front of your boyfriend’s mother makes one dizzyingly hungry, you realised. Stress didn’t let you eat properly today.
Even now, there’s something you need to reveal to him — but the moment you sit down to eat and crack the first joke, you don’t have the heart to. And then, combined with the rush still lingering from the awkward, wholesome interaction before, and the shift in mood, you soon do the worst:
Forget about the issue.
Your eyes meet the bottom of your bowl sooner than preferred, your stomach still seemingly as empty as before. Whatever magic Jungkook seasoned the dish with, you want him to sprinkle it on your tastebuds every day.
Jungkook is sipping on his water when you suddenly look up and place a hand on his bicep, shaking him for attention. A guilty Oh slips out of you as you watch droplets roll down his chin, and he tries not to choke as he puts the glass back on the table.
“Babe—”
“I’m sorry!” you exclaim, thumb wiping at the fluid dampening his chin. “Just. Can we have more? That helped with that sickness all day, and… I’m still hungry.”
Along with the lack of appetite, you assumed the stress and the constant overworking dragged the feeling of illness and stomach ache throughout the day, too. Jungkook keeps warning you about burnouts — doing a thousand things at once, you’ve been thoroughly burdened.
But honestly. Maybe it was just hunger for a real meal.
“Oh? I'm so glad it helped then! And sure,” he responds. “Go ahead, there’s enough for like four people.”
You blink. “And you?” He shakes his head, patting his full tummy, attempting another try at drinking. You argue, “I’m not eating alone, though!”
“Angel, I’ve had like two portions. I'll be full until next dinner.”
“Lame!” You shift on the couch, half of your ass holding you onto it, “And if we found ways to burn it off?”
“…Ah?”
“I mean… You like working out. So just work me out.”
“Shut up. You’re impossible.”
You’ve long given up — you’re not an ass. You would never force him to eat or not to eat, unless he hasn’t in hours. But you also need a foolproof way of amusing him.
Which, despite his very unimpressed expression, you know you did. His lips still twitch.
Sombre, his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek before he shakes his head. You pat his strong thighs, standing from the couch with a hungry groan.
“Fine. I’ll go heat up some for myself then,” you announce, but Jungkook’s shrill alarm bells ring immediately, his body jumping off his seat.
“Not the microwave.”
“Jungkook—”
“Not! The microwave. Just toss it in the pan and heat it up there.”
You tiptoe to the kitchen just a little faster, playful as he hurries after you. You spend your seconds explaining why the microwave won’t explode; how tickling you won’t change anything; how you’ll break something if he doesn’t stop.
But most of all, you spend your seconds allowing him to chase away all sorrows you carried for so goddamn long.
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Shut up. You’re impossible.
His prior agitation truly wasn’t one at all.
Because despite your obvious jests, the calories lost on the couch rob you of all sanity at last. A hand in your hair, a body pushing yours down, free fingers roaming your sides and your legs, and lips never separating from yours.
He doesn’t strip you off a single piece of clothing. Doesn’t dig a hand underneath your shirt, focused on how your mouth feels, how his name rolling off your tongue sounds.
The eyes he stares into are vivid and bright, and he uses up all his power to not let them kill him. Your body wraps around his like the most tender of all embraces; he doesn’t need you bare for it, no matter how blank the thought leaves his mind.
Only needs the proximity. The tongue touching his, the nails testing his shirt’s quality.
You miss most of the movie that he suggested, eating each other up, a fist around the hem of his shirt until he nearly falls off the couch and wakes you from your dream. You giggle and joke, spending the second half of the film yawning, sipping the peppermint tea. 
Jungkook uses the quiet time for whispered conversations; massages your feet as you pleaded for, repeatedly asking for your comfort.
The moments aren’t anything big, in theory. You’re not in a fantasy novel, not throwing a ring into a volcano. You’re mortal and here, surrounded by humane domesticity and drowning in casual conversations.
Yet — even though you’re not living through spectacular adventures, you’re breathing through special moments nevertheless. Because not a single second spent with him feels mundane, after all.
Sometime as the ending nears, you let your legs fall, pulled close to Jungkook by your hip. You don’t quite understand when or how he does it, but miraculously, you land half on his lap, ass barely on the couch and cheek pressed to his temple.
Jungkook pushes a hand against your thigh, heaving you up further and moving you until you’re comfortable. There’s a light groan, followed by a feathery kiss to your jaw; and you wrap an arm around his shoulder to hold on, shifting even closer.
Your touchy warmth isn’t new to Jungkook; but it seems that the changes in your lives made your inhibitions disperse. Like you broke the bars trapping you so far.
Because the increasing clinginess feels carefree; you don’t overthink your movements tonight. Even before, there was lightness in your interactions; how you’d breathe in his presence, compared to when the world intruded.
The difference was still never quite veiled.
He saw it when he called from so far away all those weeks ago, staring at the distress in your face through a device — versus when he returned to your world.
Or just recently, when you stood on that tiny stage, talking down to reporters — as opposed to when you whispered for him to get you home.
Your shoulders always dropped in relief the moment you stood in his soothing radius. And yet—
There was quiet discomfort in your eyes. And today — today he doesn’t see that usual steam frying your brain. Your smile isn’t burdened; you’re weightless, like you’re breathing.
Overwhelmed and endeared, Jungkook gulps. The pricking needle rods his heart, simultaneously flicking the wounds. He could cry.
He watches you busy your fingers with his shirt, unable to put his thoughts into a coherent string of sentences; so he only says, “You’re so cosy today.”
“Hm? I’m always cosy.”
“Mmmh… a bit more tonight.”
Your forefinger traces the outline of his pecs over his shirt, and you nod with a hum before you declare, “That’s because I’m trying to establish a healthy balance.”
“A healthy balance? How so?”
“I need to be nice, because you’re not.”
His eyes follow your finger’s slow movements, so his voice is soft, barely concerned. But his brain can’t quite compute as he asks, “I’m not nice?”
“You’ve always been mean, actually.”
He laughs. Taps your thigh rhythmically, close to your butt. “How am I mean to you?”
“Like,” you press your palm flat in the middle of his chest, looking at him. There’s a crease between your eyebrows, the slightest hint of a pout on your lips. “You ass could’ve answered when I came home. You didn’t say anything! Or did you really not hear me?”
Oh.
Ogling into your anticipating, subtly piqued eyes, he suppresses a laugh. His lips form a thin line, but the glow in his dark eyes betrays him. Your hand lifts a little, ready to spank his pecs, but you close the gap again as you grant him another chance.
“Hey, if you tell me you didn’t hear, I’ll let it slide.”
You’re well aware Jungkook graduated as the best of his year in Teasing You, and holds the degree proudly to your face every day — but you also know he’s honest.
So you’re not surprised when he admits, eyes mischievous, “I heard you.” Your slow blinking, the scolding gaze are hilarious to him; he looks unspeakably pleased. “I wanted to see what you’d do.”
Now you do slap his tits.
“And you didn’t expect me to say that shit?!” you reprimand. He wraps his arms around you, his laughter a deep, genuine emergence from his chest. “I’m an idiot, in case you didn’t know.”
“Of course. I do know,” he suddenly deadpans. Wow. That couldn’t have come any more naturally. “I know you well, baby.”
“And yet…”
He waves your concerns off, hand soon returning to your back to pull you closer. “She’s chill. I knew you were gonna amuse her right away.”
“Oh god. You planned this… Wait. You didn’t shush her when you heard the door open, right?”
He doesn’t answer. Just keeps looking at you. And then… is he…
Is he zoning out?
“Jungkook,” you call again.
“Hm?” He stares at you beguiled, as if utterly distracted by whatever. “Sorry. Can’t hear you—”
“You so can. We’re alone and I’m speaking loud and cl—”
“Nah, you’re just so pretty. I can barely focus.”
“I hate you.”
But you don’t.
He doesn’t need to spell his intentions out for you to understand. He might be testing your patience, but there’s a hidden meaning in his words that he can’t hide as well as he intends to after all.
Because you know he just wanted you to be yourself instead of playing a different role; just like he has never pretended in front of your parents. He knows you’d try extra hard for him — but he needed you to come in and receive affection as the person that you already are.
Guess whatever you blurted was the first impression he wanted to leave of you.
“So,” you start after a moment, back to tapping his chest, “do you think I did amuse her?”
“Oh, she loved it.” Of course she did. You could see the Jeon-esque endearment in her eyes the moment you stepped into the living room. Humbles you. “She’s gonna adore you, too.”
“Ah. Like you adore me.”
Jungkook’s response arrives in the form of a long, semi-damp kiss, delivered to the corner of your mouth. You grimace, torso moving backwards at his gentle force. He adds another Mmmhhh to the gesture until you’re nearly falling off his lap, pushing him away again with a giggly, “Stop!”
He leans back with a content sigh, eliminating more of the distance between you until his head almost rests against your chest. But when you speak again, he looks up into your face.
“Hey. Your mom was saying something as she was leaving. What was it again?”
“Uhh…”
His pupils roll up in thought, one shoulder already rising to shrug, but then it drops again before he voices, “Oh… Yeah…” A break in thought; then, “I figured you’d be busy with everything going on, so I was being reluctant about asking. Didn’t wanna put you in a difficult position.”
You wait. He speaks on, “But my cousin’s getting married next month, and I’m invited.”
There’s a beat of a pause, and you anticipate, already sensing a presentiment before he spits it out—
“And you are, too.”
Hold on.
Weddings. More often than not, weddings happen in big places, filled with a great number of guests. Of friends. And… of family members.
If what he’s suggesting isn’t a hallucination, it means that’d be how you’d step into the battlefield. Attempting your best to be yourself, to charm his family with whatever strategy.
Is he thinking of the same thing?
Because you’re speechless.
You close the mouth you only now notice stood agape, trying not to show the bubbling exhilaration too blatantly. That’d be your first joyful event together.
Oh god.
You might squeal; faint of nervousness. If you could, you’d press your fists to your lips and stomp your feet and twirl your hair and—
“Wait… You want me to go to a wedding with you?” you finally ask instead, keeping your voice in a normal pitch.
“Only if you feel like it.”
“And… and you?” you inquire, wide eyes looking into his wider ones. He’s nervous, too. “Do you want me to?”
“I… yeah. I do. I really, really don’t want to go without you, actually.”
Shit.
“Where is the wedding?”
“Yeah, see, that’s why I was afraid to ask. You’re so busy and your job’s so new. But we’d—” He hesitates, as if scared of rejection. Clicks his tongue, evaluating his words. “The thing is that we’d have to drive all the way down. It’s back at home.”
You need a moment. Back at home; you’re home. Meaning, it’s not here.
Meaning, it’s in his hometown. Meaning, you wouldn’t just meet his family, but walk through a place of memories and deeply rooted, nostalgic affection, too.
Which is… such a huge fucking thing.
Especially for a girlfriend.
Eun always says it doesn’t do bringing a girlfriend or boyfriend to big events such as birthday parties or weddings. It’s disadvantageous for the pictures, she claims. Who knows how the future might play out?
But Jungkook isn’t concerned with these issues. Jungkook wants you all the way down there, lurking on streets with him that he grew up on; tripped on; played on.
These are places with core remembrances. So easily expanded when more are added to them in later years; and so easily shattered when hearts break.
But a heart breaking is not an option, is it? Not anymore.
“You’re… taking me to your hometown?” you ask. You immediately realise the choice of words, and don’t hesitate as you add, “I mean. You’d be taking me home. You’d like to—”
“Is that—” he interrupts, suddenly unsure, “bad? Did it change your mind? You don’t have to, I promise.”
“No. I actually might cry.”
His expression momentarily softens, a big, clear Awwwh written in it. Gentle fingers brush your hair back, observing the vulnerability in your eyes. But shit, you mean it.
You could cry.
Because you talked about this so long ago.
Back when he was miles away, yet so deeply settled in your heart. Sneaking his way into your head, eating you up inside. When he broke off a piece of you and took it with him as he left, no relief for weeks on end.
And when he came back, he promised he’d take you with him one day.
Is that it? Is that now?
“Fuck,” you curse under a quiet laugh, confused by the burning in your eyes.
Jungkook’s hand brushes over your cheek, eyebrows slightly cocked. He might not have expected you to react with such… emotion. You hadn’t either.
“Hey,” his voice soothes, “don’t cry. It’ll be good. And if it’s not, or if you don’t want to, we can just stay here and never go again.”
You’re gonna sob. How did you deserve him?
Of course you want to go. Of course you’d make the best of it. No fibre in you wants to reject his offer.
In fact, you’re already daydreaming. Because…
How’s it gonna be? Will you see more stars there? Will his family like you? His Dad like you? And what are weddings with boyfriends like? Will you be seeing him in every flower in the hall, in every kiss the couple shares?
“No,” you say, “I’ll go. I will go because you’re too obsessed with me to leave without me.”
Jungkook chuckles immediately, but not speaking before rolling his eyes, “And you’re a brat.”
You wait a moment, smiling in unison with him, and then ask, “Honestly, I… I’d love to. Can I just still ask…” You’re curious; but you also want to keep feeling that warmth. More tranquillity from his words. “Why would you not go without me?”
He doesn’t stall.
“Because it’s such a big event, and… so far away. I don’t want to leave you here. And the thought of being at the most lovey-dovey place without my favourite person sucks.”
You’ll freaking screech.
“Jungkook!”
Half of the name is muffled when your lips drop to the crook of his neck, back uncomfortably arching and face heating up. Your ass threatens to fall back on the couch, legs still over his, and he hugs you close as he snickers again.
He shakes your body gently, trying to lift your face. Calling your name when your breath tickles his skin, asking, “Are we embarrassed?”
“No.”
But when you look at him again, your smile is wide enough to freeze your muscles in place. He shakes his head, flooded with aching joy, and makes sure again, “So you want to go, yeah? Don’t need time to think or something? It’s okay if you do.”
“As if. I really wanna go. I’m gonna make this,” you touch his collarbones, then your own, “work.”
He smiles. Grants you a short break to organise your thoughts. And while what you query next shouldn’t come as a surprise, it does introduce a delighted shift in mood.
“What am I gonna wear?”
Jungkook puffs out a breath.
You don’t notice; your focus drifts, directed to the carpet. You mentally scurry your closet, quietly trying to recall appropriate attire for weddings. Which is odd, because you should have the entire catalogue of your and every other place cemented in your mind.
“What do I wear?” you repeat, back to looking at him, barely allowing him a moment to think. “And don’t say anything would look good on me. Serious answers only.”
“You know a question like this prompts nothing but unserious answers from m—”
“Kook—”
“Okay. I mean, you have such pretty dresses. Lemme just choose one and we’re supplied.”
It’s an easy idea; fair enough. Only, you’re barely listening, earning a side-eye from Jungkook when you say, “I should buy a new one.”
Which still doesn’t deter him, though. “Cool. I’ll go with you then.”
“Or will I seem overdressed?”
“It’s a wedding, baby. Overdress like hell.”
“And… if I’m underdressed?”
“You’re still gonna be the hottest around!” he exclaims, and you flinch just a little. He’s not truly agitated, but there’s playful frustration in his voice, a grin around his lips. “Don’t worry about the dress, okay? It won’t stay on you anyway.”
Jungkook expects you to react with similar scolding, using it to hide how timidly flattered you actually are. But you’re too fired up, restless in his grip as your voice grows shriller, “I’m so. Fuck, I’m so excited!”
“I am, too. But…”
His palm moves up and down your back, one eye squinting shut as you start swaying a bit, pumped with serotonin. Like a thrilled child. You’re so…
He lowers his gaze; you might just see the heart eyes otherwise.
“Okay, hey,” he tries again, calming you as his fingers grasp your wrist. “Should we go to bed for now, though?”
You wait with your answer, relaxing your body. Stopping your elevated sounds, you draw the deepest breath in history, and then breathe out a whispery, “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Good. Oh.”
“Hm?”
“You haven’t actually been to the bedroom yet, right?”
“Oh…”
True. Since you came home, you only conversed with his mother, then rushed to take a shower as she left, still filled with prickling and nervous emotions. And then you hurried back to him, starving, eating, watching TV.
And now you’re here.
Was something different about the bedroom, though? You don’t think so.
“You’re right,” you tell him, “no, not really. Just to shower. Why?”
“Just…”
“…What?”
“Okay. Hold onto me.”
“Hold ont— oh, f—”
You gasp for air when two strong arms replace his soft hands, settling under your kneepits and around your back. He shifts dangerously on the couch, moving forward before he starts to lift with a self-motivating grunt.
“And— off we go.”
You sling your arms around his neck immediately, hiding, letting out a panicked, ”Be careful, I’m sli—”
“All good. Relax.” His arms wrap more properly around your limbs, and you dare to listen. Allowing your legs to dangle, you let him carry you calmly, breathing air through O-shaped lips. “Good girl. I won't just let you fall.”
“You better not.”
“No. Just wait.”
He looks at you with a comical grin, throwing a kiss into the air and down to you. Using your feet to kick the door open, he halts at the threshold; for a second, he looks… up.
And just when he finally enters the room, you quietly follow his gaze. The question as to what to wait for gets stuck in your throat when you realise what it is he needed you to see.
Holy shit.
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the chapter isn't over yet – much to go!! tumblr just doesn't allow more than 1k blocks/paragraphs. apologies for the scrolling, but i promise it's worth it :'D here's the rest! <3
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smileyoongle · 2 months
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Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader
Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU
Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.
Warnings- Mentions of blood, gore and murder scenes, eventual smut, JK is definitely a hard dom and mad possessive, vampire bites and blood sucking.
A/N- Even though I have tagged the people who asked to be tagged, there will be no taglist for this series from here on. I only tagged you guys to sort of let you know this series has started. It's a big struggle to keep all those usernames up to date so you might wanna turn on the notifs :)
Please find the introduction to the world of Amour Mort here!
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You ran through the forest, tears in your eyes making it difficult to see the path ahead, but you could tell you were venturing deeper into the more dangerous side. At the back of your mind, you were very aware that you shouldn’t be here past midnight, and that if someone found you breaking curfew, you would probably be executed by the throne, thinking you were some sort of rebel revolting in the recent uprisings. But all of that paled in comparison to the despair gnawing at your soul.
The branches clawed at your skin, leaving angry red marks, but you didn’t slow down, only realizing you had come here barefoot when tiny stones began hurting the bottom of your feet. You were being chased—not by a person, but by your own thoughts and the relentless ache in your chest. Your father’s words would not stop playing in your mind, your palms pressing against your ears as you closed your eyes in an attempt to silence his voice.
"You're nothing but a burden to me. I wish you had never been born!"
Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your right foot, sending you stumbling and falling to the ground with all the air being knocked out of your lungs. You winced, letting out a whimper as you managed to look back, gasping at the bear trap that had clamped around your foot. Its teeth dug into your flesh, and blood pooled on the dead leaves beneath you.
“No…” you cried out, sobbing at your misfortune, the pain from your wound shooting through your leg in waves. A thought came to you: maybe this is how you die, completely alone and unloved, with no one to care that you weren’t at home right now.
‘That’s not true! Lila cares…’
Your mind screamed at you, your sister’s pretty face popping into your head. Well, this was true; your sister did care about you. But really, there was only so much she could do when your father did not even acknowledge you as his daughter. You still remembered the party where a guest mistook you for a maiden working in the mansion. It had truly hurt you, but there was nothing you could say, not when that is probably what your father wanted the world to think. A part of you thinks he hates you because your mother died just five days after you were born, but how could you, a mere baby, be at fault for that?
Gathering all your energy, you began to drag yourself to a tree nearby, wincing and whimpering with every wave of pain that washed over you. You could even feel the burn on the skin of your forearms where it rubbed against the rocky and muddy ground, convinced that the sleeve of your dress was beginning to tear. Were you even going to make it back home? Did you even want to make it back home?
Upon reaching the giant tree, you pushed yourself up, managing to rest your back against the trunk, finally getting a good look at the steel trap wrapped around your foot. Meant for animals, it was likely a tool for the poorer vampires who couldn’t afford human slaves and fed on animal blood instead. It was the one law that favored humans: vampires were forbidden to feed on them freely. But nonetheless, it was always the innocent ones who had to pay the price. The night-walkers were given the gift of strength and brutality that they used against the weak, be it you or an animal.
Your chest rose and fell quickly, your breathing growing harsh, and your vision growing blurry. It was the blood loss, and you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Either you were getting used to it, or your body had started focusing on the fact that you were dying instead. Whatever was happening, it was not good, and you had no idea how to help yourself.
“You shouldn’t be here. Not at this time.” A voice broke through the darkness, making you jump in surprise, your eyes immediately landing on a man’s silhouette standing just a few steps away from you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and, swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself further against the tree, hoping that would make you disappear.
Was this someone who was going to turn you in? Maybe the cause of your death was going to be execution and not a bear trap?
Your silence only prompted the man to move closer to you and into the moonlight filtering through the trees, your lips parting as you took in his face. He was truly breathtaking, with black hair that fell across his forehead and eyes that seemed to pierce through the night. There was black ink peeking at you from under the collar of his black shirt on his neck, more patterns emerging from under his rolled-up sleeve right up to his knuckles, making you wonder just how much of his body was tainted like this.
“N-neither should you,” you said bravely, though your voice was small and weak.
He chuckled in response, making you purse your lips as you watched him kneel down beside you, your body subconsciously shifting backward even though there was nowhere to go, every single thought in your mind long gone in the presence of this man.
His eyes slowly moved across your body, taking in your tear-stained cheeks, your tattered dress, and your bloody foot, tutting at the condition of your wound.
“This is why you shouldn’t be here, little human,” he said, your eyes widening as you caught a hint of amusement on his face, your blood running cold at the realization. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you were suddenly very aware of the blood you were soaked in, your eyes nervously flitting between him and your poor foot. If you had to die, you didn’t want to do so at the hands of a vampire. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine the pain that was probably about to suffocate you when he ripped your heart right out of your chest.
“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, staring into his eyes with tears in yours, shaking your head when he smirked and leaned in closer to you. Closing your eyes, you let the tears fall freely and turned your face away from him, his breath fanning your neck and making you whimper.
“You must taste exquisite.” He inhaled deeply, your chest heaving as his words made your heart thump harder in your chest. This has to be it. He was going to drain your body right now, and no one was going to find out ever.
Preparing yourself for the attack, you closed your eyes shut and gripped the skirt of your dress, thinking about your family for the last time before your life was taken from you.
“But I’m not going to do that.” Came his voice, your eyes slowly opening as you glanced over at him, noticing the sudden distance he had put between the two of you. A frown etched on your forehead, your tears drying up on your cheeks as you processed his words. He was not going to hurt you?
“I’m too old to lose control over a bit of blood.” He gestured nonchalantly towards your foot, shocking you at how he thought this was just a bit of blood. You were literally going to pass out soon.
“Wh-why are you here?” you stammered, biting your tongue when his expression hardened, his eyes sending daggers your way and letting you know that you shouldn’t have asked him that. Silence engulfed you both, your eyes failing to look away from him. It was almost as if he was holding you prisoner under his gaze, a flash of guilt disappearing from his dark eyes as soon as it came.
“I had to get away before they caught up to me,” he confessed, a cool breeze ruffling his hair as he stood up and stared down at you, his eyes reading the confusion in yours.
“Who-”
“My sins,” he responded before you could even ask, his thick boots crunching the leaves on the gravelly path as he walked in front of your stretched-out leg and sat down on one knee. A flash of lightning struck through the sky at that very second, as if to show that the heavens had heard his confession too. And when the thunder illuminated his face, you could swear you had seen the very face of evil.
“Are you scared of me?” he asked, tilting his head as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head hesitantly. But you knew he didn’t believe you when he let out a small laugh. It sounded bitter to your ears, like he was mocking you for being so weak yet trying to fool him at the same time.
“Well, you should be.” In one quick motion, his hand ripped apart the trap into two pieces, your flesh being freed from the sharp claws that were jammed into it. Dots filled your vision as your lips parted in a silent scream, your chest hurting as if you were having a heart attack, and maybe you were because you felt your body go limp as your eyes rolled back into your head.
Strong arms held you before you could hit the ground, your head suddenly resting against a firm chest as your breath came out all raggedy. You could feel sweat beading on your forehead, your body not having any energy to even let you open your eyes for a second.
“W-why…” you breathed out, your voice a bare whisper in the night. And the next thing you knew, you felt a hand pressing against your lips before a metallic taste filled your mouth. With all the energy left in you, you opened your eyes wide and grabbed the tattooed arm feeding you blood, your attempts at pushing it away failing miserably.
“Sshh, you need this. You need me,” the vampire whispered above you, his chin resting atop your head as he ran his free hand through your hair. Knowing that you couldn’t fight him off, not like this, you gave up and swallowed the disgusting liquid that made your body feel warm all of a sudden. You could hear your heart pumping and your breathing steadying as the blood worked its way into your system, your senses sharpening, and your strength slowly returning.
After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his arm away, and you let out a string of coughs, gasping for air while the awful taste lingered on your tongue. It was truly ironic how the blood of someone dead could heal a living being. How a killer could give life to someone. And you were sure that this man who had saved your life was a killer too. Why else would he talk about his sins catching up to him?
“What did you do that you had to run away?” you asked as soon as you found your voice, your tired eyes glancing up at the man holding you. His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips, sending shivers down your spine when he brought up his thumb and rubbed away some blood from the corner of your mouth.
“What’s your name?” He avoided your question smoothly, pretending you hadn’t spoken a word to him. Frowning, you thought about it for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell him who you were. But at the same time, you weren’t a very valuable human. There was really nothing he could want from you that would make him hunt you down.
“Y/N,” you said, averting your gaze to your foot, which was now void of any wounds. Your skin looked completely smooth and untouched except for the dried blood staining it, leaving you staring in awe.
“Well, Y/N,” he started, regaining your attention, “you’re gonna find out tomorrow.”
You frowned at his words, wondering if this implied that he was going to see you tomorrow to tell you what sin he had committed. Too lost in your head to notice that he had stood up, you saw him offer his hand to you. Your fingers hesitantly took hold of his cold ones. With ease, he pulled you up as you slightly lifted your dress and examined your foot, pleased with the fact that there was absolutely no pain anymore.
“This is-” You turned to glance at the man, only to be met with darkness. The vampire was gone, the forest was silent, and you were alone once again.
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Taglist: @scuzmunkie @girl8890 @adasboredom @acrazybiotch374 @tutnotmytea @leilei-9 @yoonjinhusbands @kumakoyan @ttanniett
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atrirose · 1 year
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍
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ft. enhypen members x f!reader
synopsis: perks of dating your fav ! members
before you dive in : hcs , sfw , enjoy and don’t get too delusional.
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HEESEUNG : sings / makes songs for you , heeseung giving you private concerts for free , likes to sing songs about how much he is infatuated with you or to express his love , favorite time to sing for is probably when he takes outside to watch the stars at night “i want to be remembered by your name , as the mad man deeply was in love with you”
JAY : using his card jk having the privilege of him cooking all your meals for you , loves packing meals for you if you have classes that day , roams with apron on the whole day (the pink one of course) , will never let you go hungry , will spoon feed you if disagree to eat. his ears will always perk up and turn red when you compliment his cooking , his sole goal is to leave you flabbergasted with his skill , loves biting your cheeks when you stuff it with food “sorry you just looked so cute i had to”
JAKE : dating jake has many benefits, free tutoring / layla / cuddles , as you can see jake comes with a lot of perks but his favorite time probably is seeing you struggle with the physics question he insisted that you do yourself ‘to understand the topic better’ but you can clearly see him giggling and enjoying your distress “you look so cute” jake said as he kissed your pout and took over the pen and book to solve the question for you “you are so mean” you hit his shoulders as he worked on the question but he makes sure that you understand the question. “yn , on every right answer you get a kiss , work hard” he winked as he handed you a worksheet.
SUNGHOON : free head massages , he loves your hair especially when you apply shampoo and your hair is in the lil wet kinda state , he loves to thread his hands through your hair , lightly scratching your scalp to make you relax after a long day , makes sure your head is always in his lap as he looks at you lovingly as if he has never seen anything more beautiful than you , tries to learn new hairstyles to try on your hair , loves to be a big spoon so he can bury his face in your hair “i love your new shampoo”
SUNOO : using his skin care , i swear after you started dating him your skin is blinding , it’s smooth and glowing. sunoo loves applying his products on you after he is done with the step on his , you get lazy sometimes but he his too stubborn to get you go to sleep without cleansing your face , texts you a hundred times a day to apply your lip balm, it’s like he has a sixth sense to sense your chapped lips. “yn stop moving , you are going get the foam in your eyes”
JUNGWON : eating pizza crust , he is the ‘give it to me’ kind of guy when you don’t like to eating something. oh you don’t like pickles , tomato’s , crusts , just give it to him he will eat it gladly , if you don’t like anything in your food he would 100% remove it before you eat , it’s like he knows you better than you know yourself “stop making that face , i know give it to me , i will eat it”
NIKI : borrowing his cool clothes , niki has an amazing collection of hoodies you love to steal , i mean come on it’s not your fault they are soft , comfy , oversized and cool. he rolls his eyes every time he sees you in his clothes but he is secretly super proud of his fashion sense because you like it , he do gets cocky on that fact but we love our boy 😫🫶🏻 , will always show the clothes he brought to you , like a little fashion show “yn is that my tie you are wearing as your belt”
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an.! the way jake scenario i dreamed about and it always gives me butterflies 😭🫶🏻🫶🏻
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back2bluesidex · 1 year
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Monitoring Duty - JJK
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Pairing: Idol!Jungkook X Managerial staff!Reader
Theme: Fluff, f2l (kinda), coworkers to lovers (kinda)
Summary: You are tasked with monitoring Jungkook's weverse live tonight, which starts with you trying to shove ramyeon down your throat and ends with Jungkook confessing that he likes you too.
Wordcount: 1.7k+
Warnings: None.
A/N: trust me, I had no plans of writing this one but couldn't really get this idea out of my head... so, please suffer with me. thank you very much. and it's really stupid so please forgive me.
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Weverse: 🌟JK started a LIVE  - I am tired..
Your phone dinged with the notification. You know what it can be and you are prepared but currently you are struggling to chew and swallow the last bit of cup ramyeon, so that you can finally get into your monitoring duty. 
Drinking the water in a breath and debunking choking possibilities, you reach for your work laptop. Opening the application while putting down the password doesn't take you more than 10 seconds. 
And finally you are in. Now all you have to do is to monitor Jungkook and take appropriate actions when there is an inappropriate situation such as, he falls asleep, or he spoils his upcoming schedule, or he gets repetitive calls from a sasaeng etc. 
You melt on the hotel couch. Your limbs feel like jelly due to all the workload you have been through since 4 am in the morning. Being a managerial staff of a Kpop idol is neither fancy nor pleasant. While thousands of fans dream of being at your place, you want nothing more than a year long break. But then again, the pay is good and you are in need of money as well as a strong professional profile. 
And another reason for you pursuing this gruesome job is, the man you are currently monitoring. 
It has been more than two years since you joined Hybe. For the first year you worked with the entire team and for the last one year, you have been appointed as one of the managerial staff of the maknae.
You don’t know when in this last one year, you started to grow and harbor some kind of fondness towards Jungkook. Not that you don’t know the rules and regulations of the company (most of which don’t apply in terms of BTS), you can recite those better than your phone number, but still… staying immune to Jungkook’s charms, and especially the way he treats you with all the kindness of the world (which makes you wonder at times whether feelings are mutual or not), wasn’t possible for you. 
You know it’s foolish, you know there will be no return to your affection but you still like to enjoy this feeling of liking him, adoring him from afar, praying for him in silence. You will move on someday, but as of now, your focus is trained on him and only on him. 
“Oh the festival? The festival was crazy! You know it’s the first time I have performed in a festival all alone without the members, so it was scary and I was nervous. But seeing the other artists enjoying themselves and watching you guys cheering for me helped me a lot. Hope you guys liked it.” Jungkook giggles. You mirror his actions while watching him through your laptop screen. 
If you put your ear on the wall, you could probably hear his mellow voice piercing through the thin cement of the overpriced hotel room. You are given the room beside him for handling emergencies quickly and he doesn’t even know that. He doesn’t even care, does he? 
You shake off your thoughts as you try to focus on the live.
Jungkook restlessly talks and tries to interact with the fans despite being dead tired. You have been with him all day long and you know how hectic things were. He has hardly got any sleep since the day he landed in the US. Interviews, performances, event invitations, everything was lined up one after another. It all ended with the Summerfest performance today. Just this one live and after that he will get to rest for a couple of days before catching a flight back to Korea.   
You roll your eyes as Jungkook starts to sing to comply with the request of a fan. 
“He just performed for an hour and twelve minutes! And you people still want him to sing? Even when he is clearly tired?” you groan at the screen. Most of the time you respect fans’ love for Bangtan but sometimes their nonchalant demands really piss you off.  
Jungkook finishes signing and starts coughing immediately. You follow the live stream as he leaves his chair and starts looking for water in the refrigerator. 
He coughs some more and then with a very choked voice, says, “ah! Guys! I’m running out of water. Should I drink water from the faucet then?” 
You grab two bottles from the nightstand as soon as possible and run towards his room. 
Within a few moments of ringing the bell, Jungkook appears at the door. At first his eyes go wide seeing you standing there wearing an oversized tshirt and a pair of sweats, then his eyes fall on the bottles you have in your hold. He coughs again and you hastily open the cap of one of the bottles and thrust it towards his lips. He grabs it immediately and drinks until he is satisfied.  
You try not to stare at the way his adam’s apple bobs when he chugs water down or the way he wipes his lips to get rid of the remnants of water, but fail miserably and you guess Jungkook notices that too, otherwise there is no apparent reason for him to smile sheepishly. 
“Thanks” he says, closing the bottle, “so… you are on monitoring duty tonight?” 
“Yeah. Are you okay though? You have been coughing since morning.” You reply, neglecting the way your skin heats up because of Jungkook’s intense stare at your smaller form. 
“I am fine, Y/N. Much better now that you are here…” Jungkook pauses, your eyes widen at his statement, “with the water I mean.” both of you chuckle nervously. 
“Umm.. I will wrap it up quickly okay? I don’t want to overwork you. Just give me ten more minutes.” 
“Jungkook, it’s alright. Take your time. I like to watch you doing silly stuff anyway.” you smile and he giggles. 
“It felt nice… hearing you say that.” Jungkook gives you one of his bunny smiles as his dark orbs find yours. You two stay there staring at each other, without giving a damn about the 10 million people that are currently staring at a chair, until reality finally seeps into your veins again. 
“Bye. Good night.” you murmur as Jungkook nods. 
He is already back at his seat when you come back to your room and sit on the couch. 
“Jungkook-ah, I wish I had a better word than love to explain how much I love you.”
Jungkook reads a comment. 
“Umm… better word than love? Is there anything like this?” He thinks for a moment, squirting his eyes, placing his index finger on his chin and pretending to think hard, “I watched a drama where the male lead confesses his love for the girl he likes saying something like ‘the moon is beautiful’ and I think that was really romantic. So, from now on if you want to say that you love me beyond explanation, use ‘the moon is beautiful’ and I will understand right away. Okay?” 
You see as the comment section goes wild with “moon is beautiful” comments rapidly. Fans really love him a lot and he too, is so dedicated to his fans that sometimes you get jealous. 
Within five more minutes, Jungkook is saying bye and turning the live stream off. You leave a sigh of relief, nothing went wrong under your watch and now you can finally sleep. 
You hit the bed with a thud, wrap the duvet around your body and close your eyes only to be startled by the vibration of your phone that is kept on the nightstand. 
You grab your phone with an annoyed huff, which vanishes when you see it’s a text from Jungkook. 
“Do you wanna grab a beer? If you are not asleep yet?” 
And the next moment you are bolting towards Jungkook’s room, fucking your sleep and nighttime rest. 
You two settle comfortably at the balcony, talking about nothing and everything at the same time, while staring at the night sky. Gradually you forget that you are tired and you haven’t got any sleep for almost 20 hours now. But who cares. If having no sleep exchanges a bit of quality time alone with Jungkook then you would gladly stay awake night after night. 
“Jimin hyung texted me earlier, saying I did a great job.” Jungkook says, sipping on his beer. 
“See, you were panicking for nothing. You always do a great job.” You reply, he chuckles and then for a minute or so, you two fall into a comfortable silence. Until Jungkook decides to break it.
“The moon is beautiful.” Jungkook whispers and you hear it loud and clear. Your heart stops beating for a moment. You stare at the said moon blankly. You don’t know if it is what you think it is. Maybe you are wrong, the moon is really beautiful tonight and that pact he made, is between him and his fans, it has nothing to do with you. On the top of that there is no way he feels something for you. You are just a nobody, nothing in front of him and his grandiose life. 
So you reply, “yes, it is.” 
“Y/N… You have been watching the live and you know what I mean right?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly feels closer to your body. You don’t know if it’s really happening or is it just a fragment of your dream, so you stay silent. 
Jungkook grabs your arms and turns your body to face him. 
And then within a moment you are caged between his muscular body and the balcony railing. 
“Don’t I deserve an answer?” Jungkook breathes on your lips. 
“Do- do you really..?”
“Yes, I do. And I wonder why you didn't notice it when I am always giving you heart eyes, when I am trying to be as close to you as possible, when I am always looking for chances to converse with you, to spend a little bit of time with you.” 
“But- Jungkook..”
“What’s your answer, Y/N?” 
“Jungkook, my answer doesn’t matter. Not when I am one of your employees. It’s prohibited for me.” you try to make him understand. 
“You just need to say yes, Y/N. I can manage the rest.”
“I will get fired.” 
“You won’t. Don’t you trust me?” 
“I do.” “Then let me take care of things okay?”
“Okay.” You smile at him, as he connects his forehead with yours. You breathe in him, his scent, his warmth and his affection for you. You don’t know about the future, you don’t have a clue about the struggles you are about to face. But you know you love him and he loves you back. So maybe things will be alright. You will let Jungkook take care of things as he wants, as for now, when he reaches down to lock his lips with yours, you taste euphoria on him.  
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A/N: The idea of "Moon is beautiful" instead of "I love you" is derived from the KDrama "Romance is a bonus book.
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @soraviie @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch
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kanmom51 · 1 month
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Are you sure?
(that Tae is not third wheeling in Jeju, that is)
Lately I've been noticing that I love to start my posts with "So". And this one will be no different, lol.
So...
youtube
This dropped.
Notice, btw, how this one is called "Are you sure?! Announcement (from Jeju)"? Both 'announcements' filmed in Jeju, so why the difference then?
Maybe this:
Again, if they would have used the word "for USA" and "for Jeju" that would make sense as there being an announcement for each 'chapter' in their travel vlogs. But they clearly used the word "from" and that makes me stop and wonder why they did that, kind of make me think that maybe I wasn't too delusional with that post of mine.
People were all up in arms for Tae calling it "our" show only for it not to be the actual true translation.
Once again, thanks to @haedalkoo for setting things straight.💜
Others upset for this being exactly the same as the teaser clip we got from Jikook telling about their upcoming show.
And I beg to disagree with them on that.
This was them in the announcement 'from the USA":
JK is literally wearing the same outfit, JM changed and with glasses on. So I will risk and say, same day?
And yet, so so different.
It's not about them standing in the one and sitting in the other. Possibly a decision made to make them feel more comfortable in the situation seeing that it appeared to me they weren't so much.
But even when it's evident in the first announcement there is a script to follow you see their characters shine through, the playfulness between them, the dynamics, the chemistry, the electricity in the air.
While in the second announcement their demeanor is just totally different. STIFF.
Clearly running through the script. No extra them being them.
And that's how you have basically the two saying the same thing in both of these announcement only the first one ending up 1:23 minutes long while the second being 1:03 minutes long.
And do we talk about this?
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JK and JM clearly closer to each other.
Is this JK's doing? Pulling JM just a little bit closer to him? Or Tae being put in the corner for "insisting" to join? Just joking. Or not. Lmao.
I know that there are those that are angry or frustrated about Tae joining, and although I do get you, seeing that we were basically sold the idea of this being just a Jikook show, then being showcased throughout Summer, Autumn and Winter. I too am struggling to understand why this wasn't part of the initial promotions. Why not tell us Tae is joining for the Jeju trip? Wouldn't have made Jikookers any less excited I would think. Why shoot those two announcements both from Jeju? That snippet we got with the two excited:
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This is literally the two of them sitting on those chairs with Tae most likely by their side, Tae cut out.
So why?
I still don't get it. Not fully. I don't think it's about money or streaming. I actually am leaning towards thinking this was what the two of them wanted. In order to cement the fact that this is THEIR SHOW. Their idea. Their execution. Tae is a visitor, a guest, but it's THEIRS.
Anyway, Tae will be with them in Jeju. And it will be VERY interesting to see how this goes down. JK did not seem to be a happy camper in the teaser. Could be a mood. Could be in reaction to something that went down. We do know that he and Tae have that passive-aggressive energy to their interactions at times. JM's eyeroll in that moment was everything to me, lol.
We got these just now too:
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and
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You know I am always honest with you guys. And this is not going to be any different. At the end of the day, yes, I might have been disappointed that this isn't only theirs, that we weren't going to get to see them together, just the two of them in Jeju, a place we know they are so familiar with and that they both love so much. You know, without a buffer. But then, we are still getting Jikook. And I do believe that even with that buffer, or perhaps maybe because of said buffer, we might get some very interesting and insightful moments from this joint trip to Jeju. Eye opening to some (those that have had problems reading the room since forever).
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ktaerssoi · 5 months
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cheering for us
summary: cheering through an oddly hard game for kate.
kate martin x cheerleader!reader
(619)
as soon as first quarter had started you saw kate falter a little, something was off today. she was playing well, yes, but not nearly as well as usual. not only had kate herself realized, but the coaches and commentators as well.
you could tell she was overthinking in her head, she had tried to block someone but ended up almost tripping instead. you knew she wasn't going to have fun talking to the coaches, and really wanted nothing more then to just talk to her and let her know that this game doesn't define her career.
-
at halftime you and the cheer team were to do a routine you guys had been practicing, and you guys had done it quite successfully. Iowa was down by 7, but after the little performance spirit seemed to be high.
before you returned to you spot by the side of the court you had an opportunity to talk to kate. "hey, k, you're doing good okay? this game isn't the end of the world anyway, just relax okay?" she nodded at your words and tried to shake out some tension as she watched you walk away
-
the game had ended with Iowa winning by 12 points, kate scored a 3-pointer in the fourth quarter. you guys were on your way back to your guys' apartment when she brought up her early performance.
"y/n you have to admit i wasn't doing good in the first half," she turned to you for a second, before quickly focusing back on the road. "kate im not going to lie to you and tell you were doing bad." you shook your head, a smile on your face as your arm rested on the inside of the car door.
"but you wouldn't be lying!" kate was smiling, her mood had improved from half time, clearly. "okay well even if you were doing bad, what do you think caused it? reflect on that if you really want to improve."
"so you do think i could improve!" she rolls her eyes as we pull into the complex building's car park. "but i think it was probably you and that other girl on the cheerleading team." you narrow your eyes, confused what she meant.
"what other girl?" you asked as you guys rounded the back of the car to grab your bags from the trunk and bring your stuff upstairs. "the one with the blonde hair, you were like, dying laughing at something she said. i was jealous." she shrugged, and you were a little stunned.
"kate, babe, that girl was telling me about some story about her boyfriend. trust me we are not like that." you smile a little as the tips of her ears go red with embarrassment. "oh,"
-
the two of you were on the couch watching some sports thing, your head resting on kate's shoulder as you read a book.
a commercial break comes on, and kate lets out a little sigh, shifting under you. "can we talk about how good that halftime routine was? seriously, you looked so good babe." you smiled a little, trying to hide your flustered state.
you put you book down, moving over even more, trying to get as close as possible. "you looked pretty good out there two k, i mean seriously, i was struggling to focus." you smirked as you saw her face goes pinkish again, you sit up a little, kissing her cheek quickly.
"you seriously need to get a headband or something, those flyaways are not flattering." you smile, leaning back as you listen to kate's defense for why she can't wear a headband for the 37th time.
"it messes up the look"
okay chat its offical, i hate everything i write and im quitting 🥰🥰 jk i wish..actually though i suck at writing for requests like this is actually SO FLIPPING BAD IM SOBBING. its also 3pm and the brownies r bomb. anyway, not proofreade dont come for me! also this was weird to write because my name is - kate (see what i did?)
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adventuringblind · 5 months
Text
AUS24 (3k words)
Oscar Piastri x Liam Lawson x Reader x Logan Sargeant
Genre: Angst, fluff, spice, A/B/O AU
Summary: James Vowels takes things a step further when covering his ass in the media. Logan and his mate pay the price but Oscar and Liam are there to help.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, heat/rut cycles, James Vowels is the bad guy in this one, Alex being a king, Thigh riding, other alluded to sexual things but not specific so IDK what else to put
Notes: This one was a lot and I hope I filled the request okay! I struggled... Therefore y'all should feed my praise kink in order to motivate me. Jk...... unless?
Side Note: My ABO dynamics and how I write it is different so be forewarned ig. Also, NSFW under the cut. MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Oscar didn’t think much of it when he jumped out of the car and didn't see Logan. He figured he’d rushed off to make sure Alex was okay after that nasty crash and see if the team was going to be able to fix the beta’s car. 
Practice had gone pretty decent. He should probably meet up with Lando to talk about how he’d felt in the car. All things considered, he’s mildly optimistic. 
The itch in his neck leaves him wondering which of his three mates could possibly be annoyed. Oscar usually assumes Liam, given the nature of the omega. Oscar had to learn to pick his battles early on. He understands that in entirely alpha or omega families, dynamics have to be flexible. Liam is more alpha coded then he is omega. Unfortunately for the mess of things that is the paddock, people give him shit for it and Oscar has had to haul the kiwi away before he killed somebody. 
Oscar, because he’d prefer not to spend his home race weekend bailing Liam out of jail, speeds off towards the RB garage. He doesn’t have to go far since Liam is also sprinting in his direction. “Oscar! Are you alright? I thought maybe something happened when you got out of the car since I feel all prickly.” The blonde smells both annoyed and concerned. 
Oscar shakes his head. “I thought you might be trying to take the head off Helmut again…” He shakes his head and continues his walk down to the Williams garage with Liam on his heels. “Have you seen the other two at all?” 
“Her and Logan walked down to the William's garage together. That was about twenty minutes ago.” 
On their trek to the end of the paddock, They end up running into George. The second British Omega on the grid. He’s pacing outside of the garage and Oscar has to bite back a gag at how distressed he smells. “George?”
“Oscar! They won’t let me in.” He’s raking fingers through his and getting increasingly more distressed the longer they are stuck outside. “He sent me a text saying something happened, but didn’t elaborate. I can feel his anger.” 
Oscar, because he has no idea what to do in this scenario, sends Liam with George to find Lewis, or Carlos, or Max, or Lando, or anyone else who might know what to do right now because he has no idea. He just needs to see the other half of his mates or he’s going to lose it. 
He tries to flag down anyone in the vicinity, only to be ignored. He’s about ready to come unhinged until he gets the attention of James. The alpha team principal keeps his distance - the invisible boundary line the only thing keeping Oscar from shaking the information out of him. Only, James doesn’t just smell like James. No - he smells like Oscar’s other two omegas. Both of which must be in heat. 
He tries to breathe; reign himself in so he doesn’t lose it and end his entire career (though he will if it comes down to it). “Where are they?” If there is a growl laced within the question, he can’t be bothered to care.”
James looks like he might jump into an explanation of some kind, but gets foiled by Alex. The beta looks pissed. The kind of anger that shows in every movement. 
“JAMES!” While Oscar flinches at the olders tone, James remains calm. It's aggravating in a way. “Tell Oscar what you did or I will.”
James sighs and motions for the Australian to follow him. Alex can't growl, but the way he's seething tells Oscar that he would if he could. It's ironic to think that between the three of them, Alex is the most angry compared to the two alphas trudging through the garage.  
James gestures for him to go inside. The scent leaking through the cracks in the door is terribly seductive and Oscar has to dig his nails into the palm of his hands to ground himself. “Neither of them were supposed to be in heat this early. All four of us are synced and just went through this a month ago.” he stares down the older alpha for an explanation. 
He takes an inventory of his own body. His own reaction to his mates in heat is more… intense. Like he can't keep himself off them. Currently he feels more protective than anything. 
“since James won't tell you, I will-”
“It's team business!” 
“Not when the safety of others is concerned!” 
James makes a lunge for Logan but Oscar matches his speed and steps in front of him. He wants to retch at how awful James smells at the moment. 
Four pairs of footsteps from the direction they had come from. Liam and George have managed to find them and dragged Carlos and Lando as well. It's terribly comforting to have more people around. 
“what's going on?” Lando whines at the door the closer he gets. “Is Logan in heat? But didn't he just have one?” 
Alex is much taller than Oscar, but the beta appreciates the gesture given the nature of how betas usually are towards anyone else. “Oscar, why don't you, me, George and James speak about this in his office. Carlos can come too, if you'd like.” 
“yeah - yeah okay. I need to know what happened.” He looks around for Liam and pulls him away from James. “Sorry - I don't know what's happening. I didn't mean too-” 
Liam attaches himself to the alpha and noses at his neck. “I'll take care of them while you're gone. Lando is going to stay also.” 
Oscar nods, kisses his head, and drags himself away. He doesn't want to go anywhere but inside that room. Be it biology or his own mind, clearly something is wrong and he would desperately like to be there for the people he loves. Still, Liam is here and that makes things better. They aren't alone. 
They settle into chairs in James’ office. Carlos opts to stay by the door watching everything going on outside. “Why are they taking apart Logan's car?” 
Oscar blinks at him. They're what?” 
“I crashed the car and broke the chassis. James decided to punish Logan for it. But that's not even the worst part!” Alex looks expectantly to his team principal. A silent urge for him to tell his own story. He gestures for Alex to come continue on and the beta rolls his eyes. “Logan and y/n walked here together. James summoned them into the office together. He told Logan he was going to give me his car. Obviously, I said no and…” 
George shuffles his way over to Alex. The physical contact between the two seems to lessen Alex's rising emotions. “It was probably my fault, since I kept saying no.” Alex throws a packet of heat inducers on the table. “I was restrained. James didn't show he had a whole package - just dissolved way over the recommended amount into a cup and commanded Logan to drink it. She got to it first so he didn't have to drink it, and downed the entire thing in seconds.” 
“That doesn't explain Logan’s-”
“He had more and just repeated it. Then he used that fucking voice to get them to not tell anybody and lock themselves away.” Alex looks like he's on the brink of tears. “I'm sorry, Oscar.” 
Oh - the rage that's building beneath his skin. He moves to throw himself at James, but is foiled by Carlos. “You can't help from jail.” 
Which, the Spaniard isn't wrong, so Oscar goes limp in his hold. He takes a few ragged breaths to force himself to calm down. “It's not your fault Alex, at all. Sounds to me like it's a move to cover his own ass.” 
“Alex is out best chance-” 
“Bullshit! I just murdered my car!” 
The door to the office is thrown open and Oscar has no time to react to the fact Max and Daniel, his pack alpha and omega - respectively, got word of this. 
“Did we need to alert the entire grid, Alex?” 
Max openly, and without hesitation, growls at the team principal in question. Daniel hits him upside the head to get him to stop. “Where’s Logan at?”
“My driver doesn’t need anymore assistance, Daniel-” 
All of them (aside from Alex) Descend into a fit of threatening noises. “Really? Because heat inducers can fuck up anyone’s body on a normal dose. Trust me James, I’ve been in this scenario with my own team.”
Briefly, Oscar recalls Lando talking about McLaren trying to induce Daniel’s heat without his knowledge. Andrea is a much better team principal and He can vividly recall Lando near sobbing when they were assured that would never happen. 
“In Logan’s room.” 
“Great! Here’s what we’re going to do then.” 
George has to drag Alex away from the Office and back up to his room. The British Omega throws a middle finger at James before he’s out of sight completely. Max is staying with James until things get sorted out. Which - unfortunately since the laws are so unfair - will mean James gets away scot free. Daniel says he’s going to be subjected to a lecture first. The rest of them head back to Logan’s room with the intent on getting out of the building. 
“Should I call Andrea and Zak?” Oscar looks desperately at Daniel for instructions. He’s never had to leave so suddenly and has no clue if there is a protocol for these things or not. 
“No worries, I took care of it. We just need to get them out of the paddock.” the older Aussie pats his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m assuming the four of you aren’t prepared at all?” 
Oscar shakes his head. “We all synched just last month.” 
“Anything you need then? I can send George and Alex on errands. Actually, I’m hoping for that seeing as Alex is desperate to help.” 
“I hope he sees that this isn’t his fault.”
“He’ll come around, I hope you know it’s not your fault either.” 
And here Oscar thought he was hiding it so well. He tries to shake it off, play his own insecurities down. “I’m-”
“Relax mate, Max felt guilty for weeks.”
“But it’s my job to protect them-” The voice crack was unnecessary and completely screwed him over in terms of hiding whatever feeling he had buried.
Daniel turns to face him right outside the door. “You can’t change the past, Oscar. You were never going to be able to stop this from happening. What you can do is help them now because they need you.” 
Oscar nods with newfound determination, and opens the door.
She certainly wouldn’t say it was her greatest decision, definitely one of the easier ones in the moment. She’d downed the drink without a hesitation. 
They’d attempted a nest. Tried to make the room comfortable. The amount of drugs in their systems was not making it easy. Instead opting to throw everything on the floor and try to sleep before they can’t. 
They’d stripped down to undergarments within the last few minutes. The heat steadily building and becoming too much. Still, she lays plastered against Logans body; his scent intoxicating. 
“You didn’t have to do that for me.” He noses at her neck, teeth nipping at the three scars lining her collar bone. 
“Wanted to help, Lo.” She feels like crying. The odd lack of connection bombarded her after James used his stupid voice. “Wanted you to race.” 
The door squeaks open sometime later. After a nap and the first round of what will probably be many. She peaks her head out from around Logan who’s gone defensive from the new intrusion. Only - Liam peaks his head inside and Lando follows before shutting the door again. She whimpers and tries to claw her way to Liam, but is pushed back gently by Lando. 
“He’s grabbing a few things.” She can see him trying to smile gently at her. 
Liam ends up between them, his own shirt off and one of Oscar’s sweatshirts in hand. She makes herself as small as possible to curl up into his side. “Do you two need anything specific right now.” 
“Where’s Osc?” Logan beats her to the question. 
“Talking with James, I believe.” 
The whines are involuntary. That part of her brain still fighting for its life wants to know why he’s not here right now. The overthinking side is claiming it’s because she’s undesirable now. “Does he still want us?” 
Liam coos at her, as does Logan and Lando. “You'll never not be undesirable.” 
“But what about James?”
“What do you mean?” She can feel Liams muscles tense underneath her. She shrinks in an attempt to hide from the new angry scent permeating the room. 
Thankfully, Logan takes over for her. “He used his voice on us. He wanted to give me inducers…” 
She, despite the struggle, rolls herself over Liam and into Logan's lap. “Not your fault.”
“I know-” his desperate whine nearly kills her. And Liam - by the looks of it. He's restraining himself if the way his jaw is tensing is any indicator. 
“Lando, would you mind possibly grabbing mine and Oscar's stuff so we don't have to leave here again if possible?” It's not fair really, that Liam can be bossy and she finds it attractive.  Oscar is also bossy, but he’s the gentle bossy and Logan isn’t bossy at all. Wow - her stupid hormones have her drooling over this and she doesn’t even know what this is. 
Liam makes up a list for Lando and the Brit runs off to collect the items. She wonders how long Oscar is going to be and if the ache in between her legs will let up until they can leave. 
It’s the only thing on her mind. It’s also now all over her thighs. An unfortunate circumstance where there are no towels on the ground. At this rate she might die if she can’t do something about these feelings and the longer she waits the more desperate she becomes. 
“Do you need something, darling?” Her hazy mind decides that now is a great time to register that she’s grinding into Liam's leg. She doesn’t stop though. If anything - she can’t, because he has a hand on her hip urging her to continue. “Only one of me at the moment, is this okay for now?” She makes a weak sound and makes a mess of herself and Liam’s poor thigh. Not like Logan is doing any better. They both smell good like this. 
She has no idea how much time passes, the endless amount of work she’s having to do finally wears her out enough to relax for the time being. 
“I guess I should’ve stripped all the way, huh?” She’s too tired to be embarrassed about Liam’s teasing comments. She barely even notices Liam attempting to clean her up. Her mind is too far gone. Enough that her and Logan are both ready to go again after a few measly minutes.
They don't get very far, instead scrambling under whatever is available as the door swings open. Liam is hissing at the intruder, only to see Oscar and Lando poke their heads inside. 
“Hey Daniel, I think maybe we’ll stay here for the time being and then when the traffic of the paddock dies down we can try and leave.” 
Daniel also slips into their space. She makes a lunge for either of the two Australians. Oscar is quick to react to her movements and get her to stay put underneath the little amount of covering she has. 
Lando drops the bags of stuff he was holding and tries to smile at them before he leaves. Unfortunately, his sad scent gives away his true feelings. She wonders if he knows the full story now since Oscar definitely does. 
It’s just her, her mates, and Daniel now. The pack Omega is hovering by the door and is clearly ready to leave them to their own devices. “Keep in mind that reactions to heat inducers are unpredictable but fast. You’ll only be in “heat” for about a day. Then you’ll just be sick, but we’ll take it as it comes.” 
Daniel reminds Oscar to text him if they need anything and then leaves them alone. Which - she likes Daniel, but being able to jump the bones of her mates sounds all too appealing. 
“James?” Logan looks pleadingly at Oscars for some kind of reassurance. 
“Is going to get an earful from Max and Daniel. Aside from that, he will probably get a slap on the wrist. Alex is ready to kill him though, if that’s what you wanted.”
The three of them find humor despite the nature of the situation. It’s why she loves them so much. The way she can feel safe and taken care of, but still be herself and laugh and give into her own desires. 
Oscar loses his own clothes. The fireproofs he was wearing around his waist come off in record time. 
“You're still going to race, right Osc?”
“We’ll see-” Oscar nearly jumps when the three of them whine and pout in unison. “I take it that you want me to race?” 
“We’ll make do without you.” 
“Hey!-”
“Liam is good for something after all!” Logan wheezes in laughter. Only for Liam to grumble and decide enough is enough. He takes Logan by the hips and slams right into him. 
She looks between the two of them and Oscar. She leans up to his ear, fully intent on whispering to him but gets a little distracted by his scent while shifting around.
“Need something?” 
Finally, she surrenders herself to the haze knowing she has all her mates with her. “Just you three.” 
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borahaerhy · 1 year
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Round Two - jjk
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Summary: Jungkook has a big fight coming up, and he's not allowed to have sex for a month prior.
Genre: Boxer!JungkookxReader, SMUT
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: Just filth, Jungkook is obscenely horny, desperate, and possessive, mentions of them being VERY sexually active before this, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don't), choking? (not really, his hands just there), creampie
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“No climaxing for a month before any large-scale fight.” 
A sentence Jungkook had hated the first time is was said to him, but respected nonetheless. He hated not even being able to jack-off for that long, but it was manageable before he met you. 
Then you showed up right as his career began to take off. A lot more of his fights were high-profile; all televised, and a lot rode on him winning - and him winning rode very heavily on him obeying that one rule he despised so much. 
The first high-profile fight he had while with you, that rule wasn’t exactly something he paid much mind to; chalking it all up to superstition. He knew he was good, and having sex wasn’t going to change that, right? 
Wrong. 
He bombed the fight and his manager was pissed, to say the least. “I swear to god, JK, your career will be over if you pull another move like that.” 
So a few months later when he was told about the next big fight, his manager repeated those words to him, and by God, he listened. 
Hated having to break the news to you though. 
“So, we can’t have sex? Like at all?” 
“No,” He shook his head before his expression changed slightly, thinking for a moment before he continued, “Well, I can do stuff to you, I just can’t really do anything that involves my dick, and probably nothing at all for two weeks before the fight,” You sat in almost complete amazement. 
“Jungkook, sweetie, since we’ve started dating we haven’t gone more than twenty-four hours without fucking, shit, I’d be surprised if we made it twelve,” you laughed, only kind of joking as Jungkook smirked, thinking back to all the times you’d had sex three and four times a day for months on end. 
“Yeah, I know, but that’s why I lost my last fight so bad. I really can’t this time,” He spoke almost solemnly, his hand coming over to rub your thigh soothingly; though it really just made you want to rip his clothes off. 
“A month?” You asked softly, almost whining as your eyes remained glued to his hand. 
“Just a month, It’ll be easy.” 
Like hell it was. 
But you did it, and man, did this fight go differently from the last one. 
This time, the other guy was barely even able to land a punch on Jungkook. His punches barely landed, and his attempts to overpower him were struck down as Jungkook was easily able to knock him back down and off of him. By the end of the fight, everyone was screaming his name; everyone except the one person he wanted to be screaming it the most. 
He immediately closed the door to his dressing room, you already sitting on the couch wearing the skimpiest dress you owned, smiling from ear to ear as you waited to congratulate him. He’d been in a near constant state of arousal for the past several weeks, and you, while trying your best not to add to his struggle of not being able to bend you over every surface in his house, were no help. 
Sure, you covered up more, and went out more than you stayed in to avoid temptations, but you were still you. You still made dirty jokes that made his mind wander, you still ran your hand across his leg absentmindedly, your perfume still smelled intoxicating and your lips still tasted like desire. 
So, when he saw you in the room he knew you’d be waiting for him in, showing more skin than he had seem in a month, he cut off your words when you went to congratulate him, his mouth engulfing yours as his tongue past your lips and into the furthest corners of your mouth. You moaned into him softly, while his actions were not fully unexpected, he still threw you off balance before his hands gripped your hips and pulled you into him. 
Seconds later his his hands were up your dress, gripping your ass roughly as he pulled you further into him, his cock already hard as it pressed against your stomach. He desperately pulled your dress up and over your head, throwing it roughly to the side as your hand went down his shorts, gripping his hard length gently as you moved up and down. 
He groaned deeply, throwing his head back in pleasure as your other hand ran down his chest and abs. He moved his head back up, going back and forth between watching you stroke him under his shorts and watching your tits move as you did. 
A wave of overwhelming need came over him, pulling your hand out of his pants before he grabbed you by the hips and spun you around and pushed you down onto the couch, your hands bracing you on the back of the couch. 
“You have no fucking idea,” He started, hastily pulling his shorts and underwear down before he stepped toward you, running his dick along the crack of your ass as he lets out a low groan. “How hard it was for me to not fuck you,” He used his middle finger to pull your thong to the side as you pushed your ass back further, desperate for him to touch you. 
He groaned as he thrust into you roughly, having to hold himself back from pounding into you relentlessly. “Fuck,” A swift slap landed on your ass as you moaned out, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “I had to rush through that fight,” His words were low as you could tell he was trying to avoid cumming too soon. “Because i knew you were back here,” thrust “wearing that,” thrust “waiting for me to come back here and fuck you,” 
He snapped into you roughly, hands on your hips as he thrust into you faster than he ever had before. Your moans were obnoxiously loud and constant, something people outside this room could definitely hear; but neither of you cared. He reached on hand around your neck and pulled you back against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he continued thrusting in and out of you. 
“You’ve been my good little slut, hmm?” he hummed into your ear, his free hand wrapping around you to play with your tits. “Waiting so patiently for me, all for me,” you nodded against him as he kissed starting sucking harshly on your shoulder as his pace became unsteady. “Gotta cum, baby,” he whispered into your shoulder was he moved the hand from your neck down to your clit, rubbing it harshly as you reached back to pull his hair, feeling yourself about to come undone. 
He pushed you back down as you came, fingers digging into your hips as he drilled into you ruthlessly before he spilled into you, his sticky cum filling you up quickly and began spurting out of you, dripping onto the couch. 
He sighed heavily as he pulled out of you, falling back into the couch next to you, his body spent. He adjusted to sit next to him, your legs draped over his as he pulled you into his heaving chest. “Fuck, that was good,” he spoke after catching his breath, his voice low as his eyes remained shut. 
You hummed in response, kissing his chest softly before you stood, grabbing your dress from off the ground and slipping it back on, Jungkook’s eyes low as he watched you. “Ready for round two when we get back to your place?” You smiled, noticing the way his eyes were watching you. 
He smirked lightly as his eyes moved back up to meet yours. He swiftly stood and pulled you into him, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his eyes stayed glued on your lips. “When we get back to my place?” His smirk widening as he looked into your eyes. “Round two’s happening right here and now, baby,”
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princeloww · 9 months
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DAVID TENNANT ROLES STARTERPACK
(Different roles, where to find them and what they're like!!!) (+ more that I didn't go into included at the end)
*disclaimer: this is sort of UK orientated, 'cos I don't know any American streaming services or where stuff is available in other countries, so PLEASE comment other places you can watch things!!!!
- Takin' Over the Asylum (CAMPBELL BAIN)
Follows a DJ and a group of patients trying to keep a radio station going in a mental hospital. David plays one of the main characters, Campbell Bain, a mostly upbeat and energetic young boy with lots of enthusiasm and spirit. Some angst!
☆ YOUTUBE (free)
- Blackpool (PETER CARLISLE)
A body is found in an arcade run by Ripley Holden, and him and his entire family are pulled into the murder investigation surrounding it. DI Peter Carlisle is working on the case, and highly suspicious of Ripley. He's a pretty major character and has a romantic plot - as well as a few funny musical numbers. Includes sex scenes.
☆ UKTV PLAY (free in UK), AMAZON PRIME VIDEO
- Casanova (GIACOMO CASANOVA)
The (mostly sexual) adventures of Giacomo Casanova, a charming and fraudulent man who falls in love very quickly and very dramatically with a lot of people, all while essentially bullshitting through life and jumping on every opportunity to make money. Includes sex scenes but also angst, such as illness, injuries, some violence, and general suffering.
☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free), AMAZON
- Recovery (ALAN HAMILTON)
A man and his family coping with the recovery and rehabilitation process after he (Alan, David Tennant) suffers from brain damage. Angsty. Lots of crying, suicide references, head injury stuff.
☆ YOUTUBE (free)
- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (BARTY CROUCH JR)
I recommend pirating this one so you're not supporting JK Rowling. DT plays Barty Crouch JR, an antagonist and the son of Barty Crouch. He's kind of a minor character, as he's not actually in a lot of scenes.
☆ Probably on most pirating sites (my go to is MYFLIXERX.TO)
- Learners (CHRISTOPHER ??)
Lighthearted movie about a woman trying to pass her driving test. David plays Chris, her driving instructor. He's a bit of a dork, very sweet and kind. Has a love plot, briefly fights a guy. No major angst.
☆ YOUTUBE (free)
- Hamlet (HAMLET)
Hamlet. Prince of Denmark wants vengeance after his father's death. I haven't actually watched this one yet but I assume it's got the same amount of angst and drama as Hamlet typically does.
☆ AMAZON PRIME VIDEO
- Single Father (DAVE TYLER)
After a fatal car accident, Dave Tyler (DT) is left to parent four children on his own. Still struggling through grief, Dave falls in love again and attempts to hide it. Has LOTS of crying, lots of kissing, sex scenes, DT being miserable and sobbing, etc.
☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free)
- Rex Is Not Your Lawyer (REX ALEXANDER)
Unaired pilot. Only 40 minutes. Show wasn't picked up, but it is very good. Rex is a successful and skilled lawyer who is forced to stop practising when he starts having panic attacks every time he speaks in court. He decides instead to coach people who want to represent themselves. Lots of DT in very tight suits. American accent. Not MAJOR angst but he does has daddy issues and a panic disorder, so.
☆ YOUTUBE (free)
- Fright Night (PETER VINCENT)
A kid discovers that his neighbour is a vampire, and he seeks out a famous vampire slayer to help him. Peter Vincent (DT) does not live up to his name, and turns out to actually be sort of pathetic. No major angst, not a lot of clothes, no romance, but lots of eyeliner. He's very bisexual. Violence, vampire horror, creepy neighbour.
☆ DISNEY+, AMAZON PRIME
- The Decoy Bride (JAMES ARBER)
Celebrity Lara Tyler tries to get married to her author fiancé James Arber, but the paparazzi interrupts the wedding. Desperate to keep it private, she takes James to the island that he based his book on. Somehow, the paparazzi still find them, and they hire a decoy bride to pretend to be Lara. Romance, kissing, light hearted, minimal angst. David in a funny outfit. Fake dating trope?
☆ AMAZON PRIME
- Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger (Donald and Roderick Peterson)
Sequel to Nativity, but you don't need to watch the first one. Primary school teacher Donald Peterson (DT) is forced to take his class to Wales to participate in A Song For Christmas, a festive singing competition. Here he is put against his twin brother, who is a successful composer and with whom he has a strained relationship. Light angst - lots of daddy issues, but generally sweet.
☆ AMAZON, I think its on NOW TV???
- The Escape Artist (WILL BURTON)
A defence lawyer, Will Burton, gets a murderer off free, and very quickly grows to regret it, when his client comes after his family next. Lots of murder. Like three murders I think. Hot lawyer DT.
☆ AMAZON (I can't believe I forgot this one)
- What We Did On Our Holiday (DOUG MCLEOD)
A family go to Scotland for their grandfather's 70th birthday. Doug (DT) and his wife (Rosamund Pike) are getting a divorce, but are hiding it from the rest of the family. Movie is mostly focused on the kids and their grandad, but David has a few moments, and he's generally present throughout. Funny, slightly shocking at times, family film. No major angst. Character death.
☆ AMAZON PRIME
- Richard II (RICHARD II)
Shakespeare's Richard II. David plays the titular character, the extravagant, heartless and cold King of England, Richard II. We see his fall from grace as he is stripped of everything he owns and knows. Quite angsty. Long hair, androgynous David. Queer kiss scene (although they are cousins, soo...)
☆ you can find a link in a REDDIT comment if you search for it, AMAZON PRIME
- Broadchurch (ALEC HARDY)
An eleven-year-old boy is murdered in a small town, sending shock-waves through the community. Story follows both the family and communities response to the crime, as well as the investigation done by DI Alec Hardy (DT) and DS Ellie Miller (Olivia Coleman). Lots of angst from Alec. He is sick and hiding it. Injury, dizziness, panic attacks, that sort of thing - as well as a heart attack. He has a lot of trauma and daddy issues. Season three touches on topics of rape (warning).
- Mad To Be Normal (RD LIANG)
Biopic about RD Liang, a Scottish psychiatrist. Sex, misogyny, mental health topics, some self-harm (done by another character)
☆ AMAZON (sensing a pattern)
- Good Omens (CROWLEY)
An angel (Michael Sheen) and a demon work together to stop the end of the world. Queer romance (canon), some angst. Drama, comedy, LGBTQ+. David plays Crowley, the demon (who "sauntered vaguely downwards" rather than fell from heaven)
☆ AMAZON PRIME
- Staged (DAVID TENNANT)
A COVID lockdown comedy about David Tennant and Michael Sheen talking via Zoom during the lockdown. Actually quite sad at times? Mostly silly, though. Features Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.
☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)
- Around The World in 80 Days (PHILEAS FOGG)
Phileas Fogg, a quiet and reserved man, decides to travel around the world in 80 days, after he receives an anonymous postcard calling him a coward. Cute found family, drama, angst (ex-lover stuff, internalised cowardice, illness, near death experience), some violence. There's a scene where Phileas gets flogged (whipped, essentially) quite violently, and it's somewhat graphic. Touches on themes of racism. Phileas is 100% neurodivergent.
☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)
- Inside Man (HARRY WATLING)
DT plays a vicar, Harry, who is involved in a murder after trying to protect his son - who was accused of having CP. Suicide themes, murder, self-harm - explores the idea that any person can murder, if they're pushed the right way. Includes topics to do with CP and pedophilia.
☆ NETFLIX, AMAZON
- Litvinenko (LITVINENKO)
Biopic about Alexander Litvinenko. A group of detectives investigate the poisoning of Litvinenko. David is bald in this show. (Scary)
☆ ITVX (UK) (or VPN)
- Doctor who (10TH AND 14TH DOCTORS)
Do I need to explain Doctor Who???? David Tennant plays the tenth and fourteenth regenerations of The Doctor, a Time Lord from outerspace. He travels around in the TARDIS with human companions.
☆ BBC Iplayer (UK)
I think I'm gonna leave it there, but there are a LOT that I have not touched on. This post is a very accurate and long list of everything on DT's filmography, so i recommend you check that out.
Other things I didn't mention (off the top of my head):
There She Goes, Bad Samaritan, Einstein and Eddington, Rab. C Nesbitt, Bright Young Things, LA Without a Map, Much Ado About Nothing, Duck Patrol, True Love, Gracepoint, Camping (US), Nan's Christmas Carol, Mary Queen of Scots, (You, Me and Him), Secret Smile, Deadwater Fell, Jessica Jones, Dramarama, Spies of Warsaw, AND A LOT MORE. (+ voice acting roles, and also his narrating work on Spy In The Wild (2017)
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serendipitous-seven · 7 months
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i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." | jungkook x f!reader
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summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, crack, idiots [i say that with luv for my characters] word count: 17.2k  tags/warnings: a child [Mai] is present throughout the entire story, implication of absent birth mother, serial dater JK, so much pining, pg language, conversation about sleeping around/risking pregnancy, legal-aged drinking & getting drunk, hurtful words/heated argument, isolation, blurb about reader struggling to eat, Mai experiences anxiety [I promise she is okay], plethora of cheesy occurrences, much fluff & angst all because sowoozoo-muster-JK wrecked me
series mlist
this is a repost from my old blog, moon-write.
Thank you to the realest one, @hyungieyoongi, for not only wanting to beta-read this insanity for me when I initially enlisted her for help, but also for hyping me up while doing it. Her editing gave this story clarity ;; 
disclaimer: the portrayal of Jungkook in this story is purely fictional & does not reflect who he is in real life nor do I claim to believe it does. lastly, this story is not a part of my dad!bts series, a serendipitous life - singledad!jungkook is in its own universe.
a/n: GUYS. this story was purely created because I was under the influence of sowoozoo/muster JK back in 2021. I am so beyond excited to bring this back and share this cracked out fic again, I truly hope you all enjoy it and just have fun reading it.
“Mai, don’t be so dramatic,” you take the little girl’s hands into yours, dusting off the chalk from her palms, “look-see, it comes off!”
She beams up at you with a know-it-all smile before taking yellow chalk from the bucket and continuing her doodle on the concrete. You watch her as she makes a big circle, stopping to make sure it’s just right before looking at you once more.
“Can you make the lines?” She inquires with big eyes, you run your hand through her long hair and happily oblige; Mai stands and watches you, pressing her hand onto your shoulder; “daddy will like it!”
You chuckle, nodding, “your dad will love it.”
She kneels, taking blue chalk this time to draw clouds, a mixture of pastel colors in the shape of her handprint now adorning the sleeve of your shirt.
Adding butterflies to the chalk creation per Mai’s request, you hear the back gate open, and following is the sound of Mai’s jovial squeals. Quick to abandon the chalk, she runs into the doting arms of her father, Jungkook. Uncaring to her chalky hands, Jungkook sweeps Mai into a hug with no intention of letting go.
“Kiss,” he mutters to her as you walk over, dusting your hands off on your jeans. Mai presses her smaller palms onto his cheeks, squishing them in the process of giving him a quick peck.
“Oops,” she giggles, noticing the chalk she’s left on his cheeks.
“We made you a drawing,” Mai soon forgets, wiggling to move Jungkook forward. He smiles at you, following his daughter’s direction to the drawing. Mai, her eyes an exact mirror of her father’s, watches him as he takes it all in. 
Jungkook marvels at his little girl’s work; “thank you, babe,” he says, kissing Mai’s cheek who nods with pride, bunny teeth sticking out. She looks over at you, singing your praises for bringing the bucket of chalk as a surprise.
“I told you I’d bring a surprise if you got A’s and B’s, right?” You smile, winking at Mai.
Jungkook thanks you before telling Mai to run inside and wash up for dinner. You follow him to the patio table and take a seat, noting the exhaustion of another long day falling over him. He runs his hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment before remembering his best friend is still there.
You offer him a pitiful smile, drawing him to roll his eyes and laugh, “what?”
You shake your head, “nothing.”
He straightens his gaze but even then, a hint of his sweet smile remains noticeable, “it’s never nothing.”
“But it really is this time. Besides,” you laugh, “am I never not worried about you and Mai?”
He just nods.
“You’re doing a great job Jungkook,” you pat his tattooed arm, “you are the light of her life.”
Jungkook looks back at the chalk drawing Mai doodled on the concrete, giggling to himself. Caught in his stupor and the innocence of his daughter, he comes to, looking at you; “these last seven years would have gone a lot differently if we didn’t have you though.”
-Seven years ago-
“It’s okay,” you try to soothe a newborn Mai but her shrill cries drown out your voice. You burn a trail around the living room as you pace, stealing glances at Jungkook who’s sat at the edge of his sofa. With clumps of his hair gathered between fisted palms, he’s never looked so defeated.
“Let’s try feeding her again,” you stand in front of him, hand reaching for the bottle next to him. Too caught in the frantic cry of his baby, he doesn’t hear you.
“Jungkook,” your tone is stern and you nudge his foot with yours, “come on, you can’t give up now, get it together.” A moment of hurt sweeps over his eyes when he looks up at you, but keeping your feet on firm ground, you push away the guilt that rushes you. 
You clear your throat, “her bottle Jungkook, please.”
He does as you say, his eyes wide as he looks at his daughter for the first time since you arrived. You press the rubber tip to Mai’s lips, allowing a drop of the warm formula to touch her lips, “I promise you’ll love it, Mai.” You try to joke though there is a hint of begging in your tone. 
Her cry breaks for a moment as the milk drips onto her tongue; “there you go,” laughter coats the nervous tremble in your voice this time.
You allow a couple more drops to fall onto her tongue until Mai’s cries ease into small whimpers. Her breathing staggers as she takes to the bottle, “see?” You can’t help but giggle. Looking at Jungkook, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration, he watches in shock while Mai drinks from the bottle as small puffs of air escape her nose.
“Use the rag on my shoulder to wipe her face, will you?” You ask him and he does just so, dabbing at Mai’s red cheeks, ridding her of her tears.
“I tried everything the last hour to get her to stop,” he whispers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes though he continues to marvel at the innocence wrapped in your arms. You watch as your best friend takes Mai’s foot in his hand, thoughtfully squeezing her toes before he moves his hand back to her head, rubbing her barely-there hair as far back as he can.
“Here,” you gesture for Jungkook to take his daughter and he steps back in fright. You chuckle, “you have to get used to holding her Kook, I won’t be here all the time.”
“Why?” He looks at you with all sincerity.
You shake your head, “she’ll be safe with you.”
He places the rag over his shoulder this time and holds his arms out. Mai fusses during the exchange and Jungkook shushes her in a gentle prive as he holds her against his chest; “just hold the bottle upright - yeah,” you say as you help to adjust her in his arms. 
He cradles his large hand behind her head while her tiny body rests along his arm. He stands straight as a pin, fear taking up most of his expression as he looks down on his feeding daughter.
“Is this the first time you’re holding her?” You ask.
He gives you a look that can only mean yes, “my mom has been staying with us, she left right before you came,” he shakes his head, embarrassed to admit, “I was too scared.”
A soft laugh escapes you, “well, how’s it feel now?”
“Still scary,” he says seriously, “but I never want to put her down again.”
You stand back, watching him take all of her in. A month ago your best friend had his life made - living a bachelor lifestyle his friends envied, had a stellar career as the most sought realtor, owner of a newly built home. He was a free man who could do whatever, whenever.
That was until one drunken decision in the past came back nine months later in the form of a newborn baby.
Swaying back and forth with a slight strain in his movement, Jungkook watches Mai’s drooping lids; “can I do this?” He asks in a dream-like state leaving you to wonder if he really wanted an answer. That is until he moves his eyes to look at you. 
You shrug with a pitied smile, “you love her, right?”
He frowns for a second, nodding without hesitation.
“Then you can do it, Jungkook.”
“I’d offer for you to stay for dinner but you probably have another date with what’s-his-name,” Jungkook closes the sliding glass door behind you two, sweeping Mai into his arms. The three of you make your way into the kitchen where he sets his daughter on the counter, inspecting her hands to make sure she’s cleaned them properly.
He playfully sniffs them before kissing her palms.
“For the thousandth time, his name is Mark, and no actually,” you laugh watching the two tease each other back and forth, Jungkook’s attention split between the two of you, “I don’t think that’s happening anymore.”
He stands upright, covering Mai’s ears which only sends her into a fit to hear the adult talk, too grown for her age. She fights to move her dad’s hands but to no avail.
“Bad kisser? I knew it,” he shakes his head while moving Mai’s from side to side. Belly laughs erupt from her small body as she begs for her dad to stop.
“Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. He chuckles, removing his hands from Mai and kissing her forehead.
You sit at the end of the long dining table next to Mai, Jungkook at the head of the table as usual. He finishes reading Mai’s fortune before they look at you.
“Your turn!” Mai shouts, holding a single noodle between her trainer chopsticks.
The cookie crumbles between your fingers as you unroll the small strip of paper, clearing your throat; “an old love will come back to you.”
Jungkook dramatically ooh’s and Mai follows, her small lips shaped into a perfect circle. Victim to Mai’s purity you squeeze her nose, “who could that be?” You tease her.
“Not me,” she giggles, “maybe daddy, he’s old!”
You fall back into your chair, eyes brimming with tears as you hold onto your belly full of Chinese food, laughing at the expense of your best friend.
“Funny,” he tries not to laugh, stuffing the remains of his fortune cookie into his mouth.
Chirping crickets and a black sky surround Jungkook’s home. You listen to the sound echo up into the vaulted ceilings, looking out of the opened windows. Taken by the quiet that surrounds his place, you shut your eyes and bask in it until the sound of Jungkook’s feet shuffles down the hallway.
“I don’t know whose good side I am on,” he sighs with relief, grabbing his glass of wine on the way to the sofa, “but she falls asleep like that.” He snaps his fingers.
You smile, peeling your attention away from the window.
Now dressed in baggy clothes that swallow up his svelte build, Jungkook takes a generous sip from his glass before patting the space next to him, “so, what’s wrong with this guy?”
You stop on your way to the sofa, eyebrows raised with sarcasm, “let’s cut the attitude, yeah?”
He can’t help but laugh, moving his leg when you finally sit down, “joking,” he reassures you, “but I mean, this is the third guy you’ve rejected and I didn’t even get to meet him.”
You shrug, “like you really wanted to?” Quirking an eyebrow at him, Jungkook can’t seem to look at you, laughing into his wine glass; “who’s worse here? You’ve always had at least one thing to complain about every guy I’ve brought around.”
“The bean and I have a preliminary process when it comes to guys you date,” he shrugs, licking a stray drop of wine before it can drip onto his sweatpants.
“Yes because a seven year old has a lot to say about adults and dating,” you chuckle, pushing Jungkook’s shoulder, “anyway, you aren’t missing out on anything Kook - and besides, I don’t want to introduce people into your guys’ life until I’m sure about them this time.”
Jungkook’s playfulness dies off, the wine in his glass not as interesting as the sullen look forming on your face. He watches you, the way you bend forward, one side of your hair tucked behind your ear while you anxiously pick at your cuticles.
He nudges your knee with his so you can look at him, a reassuring smile awaiting you, “that last guy fooled us all, okay?”
You sigh as a way to say, ‘it’s forgotten…no big deal…whatever…’ but Jungkook knows it’s a stain you’ve struggled to rid of for a while; “he’s been out of my life for a long time and that’s all that matters,” you stiffen your upper lip.
“Mm, cheers to that,” he clicks his glass against your water bottle, “but seriously, can I ask you something?”
You brace yourself, nodding.
“Except for that trash bag, you always seem to find a flaw in every guy you date,” Jungkook stalls for a second, reading your temperament before continuing, “why?”
Your eyes crinkle, suddenly underneath a spotlight, “do I?”
Jungkook resorts to his scrunch-nosed laugh, “are you kidding?”
“Well, okay Mr. Dating-expert,” you cross one leg over the other taking on a new defense, “you don’t find enough flaws in the women lined up outside of your house every day - why?”
He nearly spat out his wine, setting the glass down with hands surrendered to the air, “false accusation, you know I don’t bring women back here because of Mai-”
“Okay okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” you sit back.
He laughs, “but fair enough, I guess we both don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating.”
You stand up, pulling your bag over your shoulder, “I hate to agree since it concerns me too.”
Jungkook walks you to the front door, “I’m curious to find out who this ‘old love’ is,” you turn just as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 
You force a smile with squinted eyes, “do you know me at all, Jeon? I don’t believe in fortunes, remember?”
He gives you a quick hug, watching you walk the path to your car; “I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” he says from the door.
You wave him off, “yeah-yeah save the love spiel for another time, goodnight!”
On your drive home, absent in mind, you rake your fingers through your hair. The bright glow of the red traffic light casts over you when you come to a full stop. ‘An old love will come back to you.’ You snort at the thought; they are simply typed words on a piece of paper. It means nothing.
“You don’t believe in stupid fortunes,’” you sing into the void of your car.
But it still makes your stomach queasy. Heart palpitating in your chest while your palm becomes sweaty as you ring it around the steering wheel.
“Let’s not go back there…”
“Hello? What do you mean no big deal?” Nic’s voice is a clear call into the late night, earning herself a stern look from you. “Whisper please,” you hiss through your teeth, “Mai never sleeps well when Jungkook is away, it was hell getting her down tonight.”
Nic looks at you with wily eyes, spinning every which way you turn before she gets dizzy; “oh my god, stop for sec!”
In a huff to clean up Mai’s after-dinner doodle session - crayons strewn across the table and several drawings she made as gifts for her dad’s return from a work trip, you look at your friend with exasperation painted on your face, “it’s literally what I mean Nic.”
She blinks in rapid-fire, sitting down on the ottoman while you work around the dining room. “So I’m crazy, okay yeah. Because telling me that you’re in love with your best friend of a million years is totally normal.”
You shudder at how easily those words come out of Nic’s mouth while Jungkook’s daughter sleeps in your bed. Too young to understand anyway, you can’t help but want to protect Mai from this very sensitive information about her dad.
Nic rolls her eyes, “oh relax, she’s asleep now. I’m spiraling over here, okay?”
“Just, come on,” you hit the side of your leg with the cleaning rag, desperate to get your point across, “discretion, please? This is not information I want to be tossed around.”
“How long have you felt this way?” She watches you in your haste, cleaning every speck left on the table in an attempt to avoid the conversation. You’re steeped in regret for even mentioning it to Nic. It was a confession locked in the depths of Pandora's box. 
It just came out.
“I don’t know,” you groan, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with washed hands and deadpan eyes.
Nic twists around the ottoman to face you when you come around, plopping yourself on the sofa.
“That’s a lie,” she states the obvious.
The popcorn texture of your ceiling suddenly becomes interesting when you toss your head back. I need to get my ceilings smoothed. You think to yourself while Nic waits. She won’t back down.
“I remember the exact moment I fell in love with him,” you sigh, tossing your hands up only to bring them back down on the cushions. You sit upright and look at Nic, “but it’s futile to even detail that because it’s never going to happen.”
“Do you want it to? I mean really want it to? Because he has a kid…”
Eyebrows knit together, you both have to laugh at that.
“I mean, you know, getting with Jungkook means taking on a child - although worthy to mention, a kid who absolutely adores you-”
“Please, don’t make me hurt more,” you press the pads of your fingers over your shut eyes, “I can’t even fathom how much it would confuse her - and I won’t entertain this past today. I can’t.”
“You’ve obviously been holding onto this for a long time-”
“And it ends today. Jungkook is my best friend, I vowed to be here for him and Mai as his friend, that’s it.”
“Okay, and when he finds a suitable woman and falls in love with her, then what?”
You can’t help the sadness that overwhelms your entire chest, eyes piercing through Nic, “ouch.”
“I’m sorry,” she takes on a new look of pity, leaning forward, “but that’s the reality, isn’t it? If you aren’t willing to-”
“Willing to what Nic? Confess to Jungkook and ruin our friendship? Ruin my relationship with Mai?” You retort, smiling because this is just too ridiculous to even consider.
“How can you assume he doesn’t feel the same?” Nic rebuttals.
You shake your head, “it’s not happening.”
That was 2 years ago. A night you remember all too clearly but push away along with the feelings steaming inside of you - chewed up and swallowed only to return from time to time like a bad case of acid reflux.
You scoff at the fortune bouncing around in your head, “not happening.”
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“What are we shopping for exactly?” Nic comes up next to you, raking through the neutral-toned tops with not much of a care about what she is seeing.
“Um,” you pick out two tank tops and hold them up against you waiting for her approval, “that cruise I’m going on next month - didn’t we talk about it?”
“Oh yeah, wait-who are you going with and why was I not invited?” She queries, noting the way you move swiftly toward the dressing rooms.
You chuckle, “I didn’t plan this trip, I was invited,” you shut the door to the changing room before Nic can follow you in. She leans against it, quirking an eyebrow, “cheeky,” she laughs, “who invited you?”
She listens to you mull over your choices, hearing your feet shuffle on the carpeted floor; “uh, Jungkook did.”
You are immediately met with silence, peeking at the bottom of the mirror where Nic’s feet reflect as she turns to face the door. “Come again? You failed to mention this romantic getaway would be with your best friend-” 
Opening the door, Nic nearly falls in when you catch her. You roll your eyes; “have you always been this dramatic?”
She shrugs, “one of us has to be-back to my question.”
“Not a romantic getaway, Mai is coming and-”
“Wh-like a family vacation-”
“Nic!” Your jaw sets and she shuts it quickly, “his parents are also going, okay?”
Your friend blinks in disbelief and you give her a look that wills away any sarcastic comment she has at the ready. 
You have to hand it to her, she’s a witty one; “besides it’s kind of a company cruise for him, all the employees are allowed to bring guests, okay?”
“Noted,” she purses her lips. 
The silence between purchasing your items and the walk to the car is thick with Nic’s wandering mind.
“Can you just answer one thing for me?” You’re already sighing before she can ask her question once at the car. Tossing your bags in the back before getting into the driver’s seat with Nic buckled up and raring to go; “have you worked through all of that - you know, your feelings?”
You nod, “for the most part.” Nic drops her forehead into her hands, kneading away at her temples and you have to laugh, “okay, yes I have, is that better Nicola?”
“If you weren’t such a bad liar, yeah it would be!” Nic tentatively shoves your shoulder, laughing with you, “how do you manage it because I sure as hell could not.”
You relax for a moment coming to a red light, “Mai is number one here, how she feels matters first-”
“That is very noble of you, but hello, you’re human and your feelings matter too,” Nic adds with pointed inflect, “and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Jungkook should know better, inviting you to family functions like the three of you are a family before he runs off with some random-”
“Nic,” you send a wavering look her way, “I don’t mind watching Mai when I have the time, I love her-she’s like-” you startle yourself, “I just love her, alright? I don’t mind it.”
Nic shakes her head when you turn away, your eyes set back on the road. An uneasy feeling settles inside of her, wondering how you’d managed to lie into believing all of that; “Look, you know I care about you. I know he does too I just think he’s a little blind and I’m just worried it’s hurting you-”
“I’m fine,” you practically sing.
“Okay, so you are now but it will hurt you eventually if you keep pretending like this,” Nic flattens her tone.
“I said I am fine,” you say with emphasis, “anyway, it’s Sunday which means dinner at their house-” you look at her knowing she has a smirk waiting for you. You both look at each other on instinct, eyes squinted at one another, “so I am inviting you to come with, okay?”
You both laugh; “yeah whatever, I’ll join your weird not-family-tradition for tonight.”
Sunday dinner with the Jeons proceeds as usual given the extra guest. Nic prides herself on where she can observe the oddities of your friendship with Jungkook and his daughter. Even she, sworn to never birth children herself, can’t help the fluttering of her ovaries as she watches the camaraderie built between you and Jungkook’s daughter. Mai teasingly stiffens her upper lip, shoving her face near yours while a goofy voice bellows out of her. You roll your eyes at her, laughing before attacking her sides with tickling fingers.
It’s a smile on Jungkook’s face that Nic hasn’t seen before. Spending many a night out with the two of you and friends, she’s used to the suave Jungkook she’s seen at clubs. The way he talks to women, motions for them, how he sticks his tongue out just enough for flirtatious emphasis when he’s curled up with one. His ego is seen clearly across the dance floor; Nic is sure her face is turning green at the very thought of it.
“Alright kiddo,” Jungkook stretches, “it’s late-”
“Dad,” Mai whines, clinging on to you. You hide your laugh, noting the way she tries to fight her sleepiness in front of him.
He shakes his head, “it’s a school night Mai- bathroom - brush your teeth, now.”
You can’t help but feel sorry for her, catching her pitiful stare that has so fittingly fallen on you, you chuckle, “come on, I’ll tuck you in afterward.”
With that little bit of incentive, Mai jumps off the couch, quick to slouch when she passes by her dad, meekly waving goodbye to Nic before she disappears down the hallway; “be right back,” you call to them, following Mai’s very sad trail into the darkness.
Nic sighs, eyes quick to find Jungkook, “so-” her smile flattens when he finally looks at her.
“So?” He adds, his eyes slit in wonder. Nic has always been the wild card with a fiery tongue.
She widens her grin, “I hear you and your family are going on a cruise.”
He just nods, smiling into his glass before taking a drink, “she’s coming too.”
“I mean that was implied-” Nic snorts, “that’s sweet.”
Jungkook chuckles, catching the sarcastic look in Nic’s eyes, “what are you on about?”
“Jeon Jungkook you are clue-”
“She was falling asleep while brushing her teeth,” you come out with a hushed laugh, “practically had to carry her into bed.”
Jungkook tears his eyes away from Nic, both friends staring at you before they force a laugh. You shrug it off, grabbing your things along with Nic’s who meets you at the door. Jungkook follows, his hands shoved inside of his pockets.
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Nic exaggerates her tone, accepting Jungkook’s hug before getting into the car.
You turn back to him with eyebrows raised and he shrugs.
“Okay, well I’m going to be pretty busy with work the next few weeks, they want overtime - god-” 
Jungkook laughs while you struggle to get your arm in the sleeve of your jacket; “the sleeve is twisted-here,’ he says, pulling it out and holding it straight for you.
“Thanks.”
“I guess we’ll see you at the ship then,” he says, playfully pushing you toward your car.
You gently kick his ankle, “night, Jeon.”
He smiles at you, bending forward to wave at Nic who offers him a short smile; “text me when you get home.”
As always, you wave to him without a second look.
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“Did dad receive the confirmation for your parking spot,” Jungkook asks while swinging his keys around his pointer finger, leaving a house he just showed, “it has the information on where you’ll park your car at the port.” 
“He did and what about you, will you be doing the same?” Mrs. Jeon then asks about you, “how will she get there?”
He can’t help but giggle, his ever-curious mother always wondering about you, worrying that a small task may be a little too inconvenient for you, “you should pick her up really.”
Jungkook settles into his car, a playful eye roll following his mother’s assumptions, “already taken care of mom.”
“Good,” a sigh of relief can be heard on his end, “how is she anyway, we haven’t seen her since Mai’s little school performance.”
“Slow down, yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, “she’s busy too but good, I think anyway. She came over Sunday for dinner-”
“As usual,” Mrs. Jeon snickers to herself, “why don’t you bring her over here for dinner once in a while? I would like to see her too.”
“You really want that?” He arches an eyebrow.
Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue, “yah, my son, you say that as if she hasn’t been an important part of my grandchild’s life. Of course, we want to see her but you say she’s always busy.”
“Oh,” he pouts, thinking it over, “well we have a whole week to catch up so you can make up for lost time then.”
“Mhm,” he could hear the smirk on his mom’s face, “she deserves a break Jungkook-ah, you know?”
Jungkook nods as if his mom could see him, “of course she does.”
“Between her work and then watching the baby, you keep her busy.”
Jungkook frowns, “yah mom, this is why Mai acts like a baby sometimes, she’s not a baby anymore, she’s turning eight-”
Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue in protest again, “she’ll always be my grand-baby, and you - you’re forever my baby…”
He can’t help but smile this time, “yeah, I know. Anyway, you make it sound like I employ her or something, she comes in on her free time- whenever she pleases.”
“Ok ok,” his mother’s gentle laugh he can remember so clearly from childhood eases out of her, “I just worry she’ll think otherwise.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mom,” Jungkook sighs.
“Anyway, that’s what dad and I will be there for, yeah? To spend time with Mai and give you two some free time to do whatever-”
“And some family time with all of us, but I appreciate it, I’m sure we can squeeze in a childless night.”
Mrs. Jeon chuckles before ending the call, but not before one more reminder about inviting you over to dinner sometime soon.
Jungkook laughs to himself as he pulls into his driveway. Like clockwork, Mai’s school bus arrives at the corner. He steps out and waves to the bus driver when they drive off before Mai comes running down the sidewalk and into his arms.
“Hey, dad!” She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing the cheek he purposefully puffed out for her.
“You’re getting big, bean,” he groans, faking a backache after setting her down. He rests his hand atop her head, hanging her backpack for her before they trail into the kitchen.
“Your muscles aren’t so strong anymore then,” Mai quips, tossing a quick shoulder shrug her dad’s way when he turns back from the refrigerator to glare at her.
“Smart-alec,” he mutters, tossing a small tangerine at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at him, screeching when he makes a run for her. With several feet of height on his daughter, Jungkook snatches her in no time, throwing her over his shoulder, tattooed fingers tickling her sides.
Jovial screams and giggles leap out of the little girl until he tosses her on the sofa, her dark hair a wild mess and cheeks red, “not fair dad, you’re still bigger,” she pouts suddenly. Jungkook leans over the couch, laughing while swiping Mai’s hair out of her face, pinching her cheek in the process, “what do you want to eat for dinner, kid? Ordering in tonight.”
Mai jumps up in excitement, shouting your name.
He laughs, pulling his phone out to peruse a menu to order from, “not tonight- I have a work dinner, so you’ll be-”
“Not a babysitter-dad!” Mai whines, stomping her feet toward him, “I don’t want a babysitter, they aren’t fun.”
He shrugs, taking her chin in his hand and squeezing it, “sorry babe, she’s busy tonight.”
“Fine, whatever,” Mai turns in one swift motion and disappears into the den, homework in hand. 
Jungkook groans with a slight curl to his lip, “yah, whatever…” he says to himself, wondering when his 7-year-old became a teenager.
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With aching feet and a dull throbbing in your head, you sit at the breakfast nook in silence, swallowed up in the pleasant darkness of your apartment.
“Is it time to retire yet?” You want to cry like a baby, be coddled like one, rocked to sleep. 
Just then a ding from your phone pulls you from your minute misery; a text message.
[Mark]: Okay, I’m going to level with you, should I stop trying? This is the third time in the last two weeks you’ve canceled our date…
You purse your lips, re-reading Mark’s message while the conversation you had with Jungkook weeks ago looms in the back of your mind.
‘Always something wrong with every guy you date…’
You shake your head; that’s not true. Mark is a very sweet guy. He is kind of introverted in a big group but alone, he’s all about you. He treats you well and as much as Jungkook wants to tease you about it - Mark is not a bad kisser.
But…
You sigh as you tap away at the keyboard.
[You]: I’m sorry Mark…as you can see, I’m not great at being forthcoming…or communicating.
[Mark]: no, what??
Haha come on I’m an adult, I can handle rejection :’)
You smile, warmed by Mark’s playful attitude.
[You]: Is it worse if I say that you are a great friend? Because you really are.
[Mark]: Oo yeah, that hurts a little but you’re good, I’ll find some way to get over you..
[You]: Don’t make it worse >< seriously Mark, you’ve been good to me these last few months, it’s nothing personal.
[Mark]: you deserve it and I’m sure the guy knows it already
Your eyes widen.
[You]: Sorry.. what are you talking about?
[Mark]: Come on I’m not stupid either haha every time we were together and that kid called or her dad, you dropped everything to talk to them. Rubbing salt in my wound here, but didn’t you leave our date once to be with her?
Oh, that guy.
[You]: Right…He’s my best friend…and his daughter I mean yeah, I would do anything for her. So I can’t apologize for that, but this is even more proof that you are a great guy!
[Mark]: hahaha, ok I got it, I have to say this is the least demoralizing way any woman has rejected me before
[You]: You’re welcome? Haha. Good night (:
It couldn’t have gone any better, the guilt over Mark that settled in your stomach was now gone, but you couldn’t figure out why it didn’t make you feel better.
Mark is smart but he was wrong. Well…maybe answering Mai’s phone call that one night, while you and Mark were making out on his couch, was a bit excessive? You cringe at the thought…
Peeling yourself from those memories and the barstool proves easier when your incentive is to no longer question what everyone around you seems to have common knowledge of. Pouring water into a steel pot, you set it on the stove to boil for some ramen.
Not long after your meal is done your phone rings with the Jeons’ home number flashing across the screen; “Bean?” You answer, knowing it’s Mai since Jungkook only calls you from his cell phone.
You are greeted with an exasperated huff before she whispers harshly into the phone, “why didn’t you come watch me tonight?”
Choosing to eat straight from the pot because it was one of those days, you bring it into the living room, a grimace on your face, “my sincerest apologies kid. I told your dad I’d be busy with work since we’re all going on vacation soon.”
“Oh, well, I don’t like this babysitter, she treats me like a little kid,” you almost choke on your first bite of noodles, stifling a laugh at Mai’s dispense.
“Okay one - you are a kid and two - be nice, three - where is your dad?”
Mai scoffs with gusto into the phone, “work dinner,” she exasperates, “dad thinks I’m a dummy, I know he’s on a date.”
Your heart drops and with it goes your appetite, setting the half-eaten food down on your coffee table. You move the phone away for a moment, allowing yourself a second to let out a long breath before continuing, “how do you know that, you know your dad is a busy guy, he goes on plenty of work dinners.”
“Hm- again I’m smart, dad says he is going on company dinners when it’s actually with work people,” Mai’s tone is flippant, “but when it’s a date? He calls them ‘work dinners.’”
“Oh right,” you curse yourself for having this adult conversation with a child, “duh.”
Mai laughs, “dad has been going on a lot of work dinners-”
You clam your eyes shut, “y-you know what bean, I’m sorry but I’m exhausted- are you in any immediate danger that requires me to come over there?
“No,” Mai sighs with obvious disappointment, “I guess not.”
Even with the unsettling of your heart, Mai always manages to melt you to your core, “you sure?”
“Dad would be mad if I made you come here, I’m okay, I just miss you I guess,” her voice suddenly drops, and the little kid is back. The innocence you love so much about her pulls you in.
“I miss you too,” you say, “but hey- the cruise is coming up soon, okay? You’ll have your grandparents, your dad-”
“And you, duh,” she adds.
You shake your head, chuckling, “and me.”
After talking her through her irritation and simply missing the two people that are her entire world, Mai hangs up a little more satisfied.
You? You call it an early night, ignoring the dreaded feeling hanging from your heartstrings.
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You aren’t sure how to feel once you wake up on the first day of vacation. Having lost sleep over the last week while bitterly packing for the cruise, you thought up several ways you could have canceled before getting to this day. Picking up your phone on several occasions to text Jungkook only to picture Mai’s disappointment. She likely would have shed a tear or two at your expense.
Finally the night before, you swallowed back your pride and zipped up your packed suitcase which was now sitting in the back of Jungkook’s trunk with the rest of their things. He and Mai sang along to a song while you tapped your hand against your leg, unable to keep the smile away from your face for long.
Mrs. Jeon greets you eagerly after smothering Mai in kisses, taking the three of you ahead as you enter the ship.
“Home for the next week,” Jungkook comes up from behind and puts his arm around you, pressing his palm into Mai’s hair and messing with it while she tries to fight him off. You move away from him and walk towards the elevators, “shall we settle in our rooms?”
Mai is the first to react, running toward you and grabbing your hand in the process before the rest follow.
Once in the rooms with Jungkook’s parents only a few doors down from your suite, Mai pops in and out of the door connecting your room to theirs, “we can have sleepovers every night!” She cheers.
You shake your head, laughing at her excitement while still taking it all in yourself. Jungkook comes in from your balcony, pressing two fingers against Mai’s forehead when she goes throttling toward him, “relax monster,” he chuckles, “and not every night, okay?”
“Okay, but at least when you go on work dinners,” Mai peers passed Jungkook’s hip at you making a face too devilish for a child, “I can sleep in her room?”
You’re glad the bed is there to catch you when you sit back. Jungkook gently pushes her head back, laughing, “we’ll see.”
You have to swallow back that all too familiar sickness, “come on Kook, it’s vacation.” Mai leaps forward with a toothy smile, “yeah dad, vacation!” She shouts, wrapping her arms around Jungkook’s legs. 
You watch the two of them dance around your room, Mai standing on top of Jungkook’s feet while they tease each other; “duck feet,” Mai says, proceeding to quack at her father.
“Do you uh- you have to work while we’re here?” You ask Jungkook. He sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head, “nope, just one brunch with a few colleagues but that’s it.”
You despise the relief that immediately washes over you.
Switching into vacation mode proves a lot easier than you anticipated, given the new information Mai shared with you during that one phone call. You hate to admit it to yourself, but seeing Jungkook stick around for the first couple of days provides relief for you that he is in fact, not going on any work dinners this trip.
Shut up shut up shut UP…
Your thoughts eat away at your brain while you sit poolside, taking a break from carrying Mai around on your shoulders like a mermaid - per her request. You were her throne and she, the mermaid princess of an undersea world, Jungkook the villainous merman out to seek her crown. After a victorious battle against said merman, you urge Mai to continue playing with her dad because being the throne is a weighty job.
Watching them is almost better.
Like a shooting star, a smile beams across your face, sitting back to hold yourself together, barking with laughter when Jungkook throws Mai into the air. A shriek of excitement falls out of her until she lands safely in a big splash.
Jungkook raptures you as you look over to find his head tossed back, perfect teeth showing as he laughs with every part of his being - eyes closed, the only visible part of his face is the utter joy he is feeling.
Your heart beats faster, cheeks grow hotter but not from the sun. Like the kind of gasp that escapes you during a jump scare in a horror movie, a memory locked so deep floods your head. You lower the brim of your hat to hide the immediate tears that flood your eyes, relieved to see Jungkook and Mai continue to chase each other around the pool, making waves while splashing one another.
It was a long day, Jungkook enlisted your help with a colicky baby Mai in need. You read up on as many articles as you could before heading over to their place, finding him in a panic though he was trying to repress it for the time being.
With much effort on both ends, Mai was finally asleep after hours of fussing. Jungkook, desperate for his daughter’s relief to the point of tears, you decided to leave them alone in his bedroom while you claimed a spot on the couch. 
Waking up hours later, the sun is long gone. You head to his bedroom to say goodbye.
The door is still open and you find Jungkook lying on his side with his back to you, instead of sleeping like you initially assumed, he is humming. One hand rests under his head while the other moves in an up-and-down motion. You stand on your tiptoes and see Mai is still asleep, laid out on her back with her limbs sticking out, you cover your mouth to stifle a chuckle.
She looks angelic - long eyelashes tickling the tops of her chubby cheeks, you can even hear her heavy breathing beyond Jungkook’s soft hum.
“Is it possible to be this in love?” His voice captures your ears but it’s a welcomed sound. You can’t see his face but you’re sure he’s near to tears for the second time that day. Pushing off of the wall, you walk to the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes dart to you, dropping his head, silently laughing at himself.
You pat his ankle, a chummy smile covering your face only to tease him, “I’m heading home, will you two be okay?”
He looks back at Mai before nodding, “thank you,” he sighs before moving out of bed but you try to stop him, assuring him that you can make it to the door in one piece.
“When do I ever let you walk out alone?” He whispers, kissing Mai’s cheek before carefully moving off the bed. He follows you to the front door. When you turn to wish him and Mai a full night’s rest, he swallows you in a hug. You stand stiff for a moment, unable to recall if this was something that had ever occurred before. You weren’t the bear-hugging type of friend.
Even more, you can feel your heart thrum against Jungkook’s and suddenly it becomes natural as you melt into his hold. You wrap your arms around his middle to which he pulls you closer and tighter.
Eyes closed, the feeling of being in his arms is overwhelming and cheesy as it all feels, you have to will the tears away as a rush of feelings come flooding over you. Every over-thought you’d wondered up to this moment is answered.
‘Am I falling for him? No…wait.
Do I love my best friend?’
“We love you,” Jungkook says close to your ear, shaking you from your thoughts, but with them are the crackings of your heart, “I don’t say that enough,” he adds. He finally releases you and you have to pull yourself together in a second.
“Jungkook, I told you I’d be here for you and Mai- no question.” You manage to say, clearing your throat.
Walking away from his house that night, you know for you, it’s all changed.
A shrill cry of your name jolts you awake, cold water splashing your midriff. Your eyes focus back and on Mai who is now sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, “let’s race,” she says. Without hesitance you jump in after them, pulling a giggling Mai into the pool with you who begs for mercy.
After a warm shower, sleep proves victor over the book Mai begged hands and knees for you to read, but by the time you washed up and changed into fresh pajamas, Mai’s face was planted into Jungkook’s pillow, hair splayed across the white pillowcase.
Jungkook hears you chuckle from his place on the balcony. Turning to look over his shoulder just as you kiss Mai’s head, a gentle flutter in his chest mimics the rocking of the ship.
“She’s going to need an entire week to recuperate after this trip,” you come out and sit on the bench with him, drawing your legs up and holding them to your chest. Jungkook’s silence makes you curious, but when you look over, the look on his face tells you why.
Brows are set straight with his arms crossed in front of his chest, you can see every thought that's running through his mind. Instead of pegging him with a question, you tap his leg with your foot. He takes a sharp breath in, laughing at himself when he looks at you.
“I was just thinking,” he groans, moving forward to rest his face in his hands. Your heart crawls out of your chest in search of a way to soothe your best friend, yet all the same, you just want to hold him.
“I was just thinking…” he sighs with a shrug, “back when I was twenty-one, convinced I was this big hotshot with a realtor’s license and brand new BMW,” he laughs in shame, “ah- then all of a sudden there’s a helpless baby who I had no time to prepare for.”
You remember that time with him; recalling the day Jungkook called you to his then apartment, voice too shaken to explain why he needed you there as he returned a missed call from the local hospital. Of course, your mind assumed he was diagnosed with some kind of illness. 
But with the call on speaker, you watched the color drain from his face as child protective services spoke to him on the other end. Words are thrown around like fireballs- ‘your name was put on the birth certificate by her birth mother Mr. Jeon…a DNA test has been ordered so we will need you to come down to the clinic to complete it. For now, the infant will be placed with our services upon release from the hospital.’
‘No,’ he was quick to respond, ‘no-don’t do that please, I’ll bring her home. Can-can I bring her home?’
“You didn’t need that test to prove what you already knew,” you add, watching the way your best friend runs his hands back and forth through his hair. 
He took the test anyway and it was of course confirmed that Mai was his; “when you called me over, I couldn’t imagine what they would say and that was definitely the farthest thing from my mind.”
“Wouldn’t change it for the world now that I know I’m a capable dad but-” his confidence drops and you sit forward, bending your head until you can see his face.
“But what?” You ask.
“Any chance at falling in love is out the window-” you can hear the guilt in his voice when he says that. He sits back and you follow, keeping your eyes on him. He chuckles with a crooked grin, “what?”
“Why do you do that? It doesn’t hurt you?”
He sighs, looking back at the water, “it’s easier, isn’t it? Sleeping around rather than risking a broken heart?”
“Jungkook, Mai’s mother-she was foolish for leaving you and even more for leaving Mai-I mean let’s not forget she, herself never even told you about your child in the first place-”
“Yeah but I’m still an idiot for even going there with her, I knew all she wanted was something casual and I gave it to her just so I could feel something.” He shakes his head.
“But one really good thing came out of that, right?” You push, taking your fingers and nudging his chin to force a smile on his face. 
He doesn’t argue, thinking of the little girl that is sound asleep inside.
A quiet hum settles inside of your chest drawing Jungkook to look at you. Your eyes set on the moonlight reflecting against the water; “I love your kid Jungkook.”
Just looking at your smile when you turn to face him, it’s a sight that nestles deep inside of his chest; “I already did before you even brought her home but I swear, my heart almost can’t take how much I love Mai.”
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The gentle rock of the boat begins to lull you into sleep; chilly ocean air creates goosebumps over your skin as you fight your eyes rolling back, your breathing slows as a content hum comes out of you. Jungkook watches you for a moment, noticing the slight chatter in your teeth that pulls a giggle from him, “come here.”
Your heavy eyelids open to look at him, blinking inquisitively as he brings you closer to him. “I’m trying to warm you up,” he chuckles with another tug of your hand. He scoots down to rest his head along the sofa so you can lay your head comfortably on his shoulder; Jungkook’s body heat is all you need to fully accept his invitation.
“Just so you know,” he clears his throat, “because I know how my kid is,” Jungkook’s voice sounds like a subtle purr, “she loves you too.”
Caught in a haze of exhaustion and more emotion than your heart can handle, you nuzzle against Jungkook’s shoulder, willing yourself to fall asleep with those sentiments in mind. 
On the cusp of a deep sleep, you swear you feel Jungkook press his lips to the top of your head as he carries you off into the room.
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When you wake up in the morning, you’re immediately aware this is not your bed though it isn’t entirely unfamiliar. Your heart launches in your throat as you sit up on your elbows, eyes pressed shut.
Okay now!
They pop open, your initial concern to find Jungkook lying there settles when you see Mai at your side. Her long raven hair strung across her face. 
A snore causes you to jump; awakened by his snore, Jungkook looks at you with one eye open, his body contorted to the size of the narrow cot meant for Mai. His feet dangling off the edge.
“You could have slept in my bed,” you snort.
He sits up, the sheet falling off to reveal his rippled chest and abs. You’ve seen his muscles several times, but the setting is far too intimate this time. You have to look away, pulling Mai’s hair off of her face. Jungkook stands and stretches, “it was nice falling asleep to you guys’ breathing- peaceful,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.
The days go by too fast. Each one was filled with various activities tailored to Mai as she enjoyed the time with her grandparents. On several occasions, she couldn’t help but announce how happy she was to have her favorite people with her all at the same time.
Although, on the second to last night, you fail to ignore when Jungkook doesn’t return from that brunch as soon as he assured Mai he would, showing up early in the evening sans tie and a fresh mark on the side of his neck.
He comes lazily into your room after a shower, greeted by Mai with open arms, “where were you?” She asks, pressing her face into his side.
“I’m sorry.” His answer is short and hardly an answer. You turn away to hide your disappointment, closing the coloring book Mai was using and putting away her crayons; “your parents said you had unexpected business come up after brunch?” You ask.
He looks at you and nods.
Liar.
“But look bean,” he picks Mai up, conveniently placing her where she can’t point out the hickey, “you’re going to dinner alone with grandma and grandpa tonight, okay?” Mai throws her head back, “you’re abandoning me again?”
You can’t help but laugh, curiosity pushing away the heaviness in your chest, “wait, why?”
Jungkook looks at Mai, “cover your ears.”
“But-”
He curls an eyebrow at her and with a loud scoff, she does as he says.
“They want us to have a night out. We can go to the club downstairs - dancing and drinks?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You shake your head, laughing while your resolve not to give in slips away, “I have a dress that deserves to be seen, might as well.”
While Jungkook spends the last few hours of daylight with Mai, you don’t waste any time and get ready. It isn’t often you can pamper yourself like this; hair laid sleek against your back, taking time on your makeup to ensure its lasting quality because you plan to dance away the troubles of your heart.
Just as you buckle the other strap to your heel, there’s a knock at the main door of your room. You peer into Jungkook and Mai’s room through the connecting door which has remained open the majority of the trip, remembering he left just a few minutes before to drop Mai off at his parents’ room.
You open it without much thought, stumbling back when you come face to face with your best friend. He catches you by the wrist, chuckling.
His hair is combed with an effortless side part, thick bangs swept on either side of his forehead. His patterned buttoned-down stands out though the short sleeves allow his tattoos to be on display. White slacks and a new pair of shoes adorn his lower half while a touch of gold jewelry ties it all together. Pushing your figurative tongue back into your mouth, you offer a simple compliment before stepping out.
Going unnoticed is the way Jungkook’s eyes slink over your figure, selfishly detailing in his memory how your dress fits you in all the right places.
“Hurry up slowpoke,” you call to him, already halfway down the hallway. He looks at you, wondering if you’ve caught him staring. You choose to turn away before he can see the smirk on your face.
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Music booms around you while a colorful group of people aged from 21 to 90 fills the space for a final night of hoorah as you settle at the bar. Your feet are already aching after Jungkook pulled you straight onto the dance floor when you initially arrived. Having clubbed with him on many occasions, you aren’t surprised by his rhythm and ease in gyrating his hips to the music. Perhaps a little closer to you than you are used to, but you’ll allow a pass tonight. And really, are you complaining?
No. But you choose to ignore that voice in your head.
Jungkook is looking around until he finds your eyes. You blink, clearing your throat, “I have a confession.” He scoots in closer so he can hear you better, eyes dropping to meet yours. Stirring in his seat, you wonder if he’s fidgeting out of discomfort.
Liquid courage pushes you to continue, “I broke into my minibar and had a little pre-game before you came,” you admit. Jungkook drops his head and laughs at you again. His eyes squint beneath a beaming smile, you practically choke at how beautiful he looks, “y-you might have to carry me back to my room later.” Your tongue suddenly feels numb as you stumble over your words.
He nods, “you deserve to let loose,” his expression takes on more sincerity, “you do so much for me and Mai.”
If not for the mood lighting flashing in various colors, you swear Jungkook’s face is flushed. His blinks are slow and you wonder when he’ll stop looking at you like that-
“Here you are.” The bartender barrages in with your drinks. You jump slightly while Jungkook thanks the man, a straight line forming his lips.
After two shots and another finished drink, Jungkook is ready to dance into the wee hours of the morning. Head caught in a constant loop after those shots, you insist he goes on his own. Just then a woman’s voice appears close to your ear, causing you to jump back. Jungkook looks to where you are with some sort of a smile appearing on his face but you can hardly make it out through a hazy gaze.
He’s saying your name and you make every effort to concentrate, “this is my colleague, Rosie.”
Rosie smiles at you but you notice more the way her hands are wrapped around Jungkook’s bicep and then the way she moves her hand to smooth across his shoulders, tucking her fingers beneath his collar.
Rosie from brunch. You smile, “nice to meet you.” You can’t help when your eyes ghost over the mark on Jungkook’s neck once more, the one you’ve had to pretend wasn’t there the entire night.
“Likewise,” she hardly spares you a second look before her eyes are glued to Jungkook’s, “let’s go dance.”
Jungkook sets his attention on you when you stand, making it a point to plant your feet firmly on the ground, “go, I need to use the restroom.”
Rosie wastes no time and pulls Jungkook away.
You groan, staring at yourself in the mirror, eyes weighed down with one too many drinks though you’re still able to stand on your own. That deserves a pat on the back along with your determination to not allow this night to go sour as you make your way out to the dance floor once more.
But it all comes to a screeching halt when you spot Rosie and Jungkook, even more, the way his lips hover dangerously close over the skin of her neck, his hand smoothing over her waist. Their bodies are pressed together as they dance with not an inch of breathing space to spare between the two.
You can’t help the fire that rages through you though tears sting your eyes. Before he can see, given he even looks up for one minute, you make a desperate escape towards the exit.
Stupid..so stupid. Stupid on a monumental level. What did you think was going to happen-he’d magically fall in love with you on this trip? Yes…NO.
You sniffle as you rub the heels of your feet, skin red from the pain inflicted by your choice of footwear. Even after a long shower, scrubbing the black makeup off your eyes that melted onto the bags that are now present - you can’t shake the aching in your chest.
“Ugh,” you groan, tossing yourself back onto your bed. Hair still sopping wet from your shower and dressed in your comfiest pajamas, nothing could soothe you at this point. Mind still swimming in a drunken state, you wish you could just black out already.
Click.
The door to Jungkook and Mai’s room closes. You shoot up into a sitting position once more, immediately regretting that. Jungkook peers in through that middle door, chuckling at you and a little less drunk than you. He always held his liquor better than you did.
That fire flickers in you once more, so slight but it causes you to twitch. You can’t un-notice it, even when you look away for a moment while he moves over to you. His hair is a mess, shirt hastily buttoned, and the collar is tinted pink, not to mention the faded lipstick marks around his jaw. He steps any closer to you and you could name the brand of perfume she was wearing.
“Club closed like two hours ago,” your words are still a bit slurred. Jungkook just chuckles, “yeah, I’m beat.” You shake your head while he moves back in the direction of his room.
“Old habits die hard,” you mutter venomously.
Jungkook cocks his head, taken aback, “what?”
You straighten your shoulders when he looks at you, “are you really going to risk putting yourself in this same situation again? Just for a one-night stand? Have you forgotten how Mai came into the picture?” The deep frown on your face is hardly enough to hide how you swallow back the gasp following your accusation. The dagger you’ve pierced him with digs into his back while a crushing pain swallows him whole, you can see the crumbling beneath your best friend’s eyes.
His cheeks grow red when he turns back towards the door, “go to sleep,” he mumbles in a tone that has the ground shaking, tossing his room key to the side, “you’re drunk.”
You flinch when he slams the door shut.
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The swaying of the boat doesn’t help the unsettling waves in your stomach and throbbing head. Even with the new presence of another person on the balcony, your head remains cradled in your hands.
“Here,” Jungkook says in a low tone but it still makes your head throb. He reaches out to you with a water bottle in hand, “and take these.”
You peer up, the torturous rays of the sun hurt your eyes. You shake your head. Jungkook smacks his tongue in disapproval, taking up the bottom space of the lounging chair you're sitting on. He opens the bottle for you and brings it up to your lips, “stubbornness won’t make you feel better, drink.”
“Oh god, please don’t say that word,” you retch, taking a sip. Another second later Jungkook pops the two aspirin into your mouth, assisting you with another swig of water.
The rushing waves settle around you but the awkward silence can be cut with the dagger Jungkook was still holding onto. He sighs, looking away from the wooden deck of the balcony.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk before,” he says. The strained laughter that follows makes your chest grow hot along with the heaviness in his tone.
You feel his gaze fall over you and you finally look up at him, removing your sunglasses. He doesn’t tear his attention away from you, waiting to see if you’ll do anything, say anything.
“Do you remember-”
You’re nodding before he can finish his sentence, “I remember what I said.” You wish you didn’t, probably even more than Jungkook wishes he never heard it.
Jungkook sits there a little bit stunned, straightening his back and you can see the frown grow on his brow, “not that I owe you any explanation - I didn’t sleep with her, we just - I don’t know I just couldn’t-”
You question him with your eyes, “you’re right Jungkook, you don’t need to explain anything to me, we’re both adults.” You cut him off before it can hurt anymore, irritation lining your tone which Jungkook picks up on the latter. Somehow he still misses the longing behind your eyes.
“How about some leniency? I’m trying to be nice even though you insulted me last night-”
“You don’t have to be nice to me, I was out of line so let’s just drop it. I’m sorry for ever saying anything-”
“Will you let me care about you?” He snaps back. It catches you off guard, even when he’s been angry in the past, he’s never snapped at anybody. But the shock isn’t enough to stop you from feeling angry too.
“What are you talking-if this is you caring about me then please, spare me. I mean y-you came back to the room like nothing-” you groan out of frustration, swinging your legs over the lounge chair to stand up. The uneven weight nearly sends Jungkook to the ground but he manages to catch himself.
“Like nothing-what?” Jungkook follows you into your room.
“Nothing Jungkook, nothing happened, that’s what I mean. And you know what, nothing is ever going to happen,” you mutter, tossing clothes into your opened suitcase.
He grasps for the words falling from your mouth, managing to hear every last one, “what do you mean?”
You shake your head, “look let’s just give each other space, yeah? We only have today left so let me just do what you brought me here to do - let me do what I do best apparently.”
The riddled expression on his face only makes you grow more impatient for him to leave you alone; “that’s why I’m here right Jungkook - to take care of Mai while you rendezvous? I’m just a babysitter for Mai - that’s all I’ve ever been to you since she was born, right?”
His eyes grow cold while your words only chip away at him more and more, “you’re my best friend, I invited you to come because you’re like family-”
“Oh, just stop!” You twist pieces of your clothing between angry fists, “stop doing this to me-stop saying those things to me, stop cuddling with me like we’re-we-” you’re sputtering on the edge of stone-cold tears, “you just-you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Then tell me,” he urges you, “for God’s sake talk to me instead of pushing me away-”
“Jungkook, I love you,” you cry desperately, your body sinking, “I-I love you, and I can’t do it anymore.” You collapse onto the edge of your bed, praying the tears will go away so you can get a coherent thought out, shaking your head.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook.” You weep quietly.
All he can do is whisper your name to break the deafening silence.
“Just leave,” you look at him with red, tear-filled eyes, “please.”
“But we should talk-”
“I won’t do this anymore…I just can’t,” you can’t stop crying, “please leave.”
There isn’t anything more heart-breaking than when the door shuts behind your best friend, you are left alone to steep in the figurative mess left around you. A storm rages your mind while tear after tear continues to fall, even when you occupy yourself with stuffing everything into your suitcase. Some hours pass when you’re still in your room, suitcase packed. You can hear Mai enter their room, voice muffled behind the closed door she was so used to being open.
Follows is a stern call of her name from Jungkook just before the doorknob turns but abruptly stops along with your heart. You can hear her asking him why before you assume he pulls her away from the door.
You force your eyes shut, pressing your tear-stained face into your pillow and praying the last day on this god-awful ship will magically be over when you open your eyes again. Body exhausted from the emotional day, you feel yourself sink into darkness until all subconscious thought disappears.
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It was a fight to get Mai to understand why you weren’t going home with them the next morning. You never lied to her. Not once in all of these years. Not until today when you told her it had to do with work, that was why. She slumped into her grandma’s hug before going over to the car per Jungkook’s request who was standing near you.
“Jungkook, I just want to go home and I already called an Uber so-”
He just nods but you can see the hurt in his eyes, “will you text me-us? Text us when you get home?”
You look down at your phone, “I-um- I need to go over to the waiting area where I’ll be picked up, thanks for inviting me.” With that, you’re turning away before he can even breathe a second time. Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from you, watching you walk away, wanting to watch you until you're a speck in the distance.
“Mai is buckled in Jungkook-ah.” His dad calls him away before he can do any of that.
His thoughts spiral on the drive back home.
‘I can’t do this anymore…I won’t do this.’ Your words play like a broken movie reel in his mind. A sick feeling settles in Jungkook’s stomach; a strong taste of bile rises in his throat as he wonders if you mean it.
The days following begin to fuse into the next before you realize two weeks have gone by. Two weeks of missed phone calls from Jungkook but even more painful are the missed calls from their house phone.
Mai.
You have to hold your stomach every time you think of Mai. The innocent one caught between two adults she thinks the world of, the only two who are her entire world. It’s enough to make you want to lose all contents of your stomach which hasn’t been much lately. Getting by on a couple of sips from your morning tea and a bite or two of unbuttered sourdough bread before heading off to work.
Everything has lost its taste, life as you know it has lost flavor.
You always enjoyed work, as stressful as it could be at times. But it was becoming your mute therapist because you couldn’t talk about the things warring your mind. They just bottled inside of you, one after the other; when would it finally implode?  
Three knocks sound at your front door and you jump away from the counter, a small plate with a sad sandwich placed on top of it. You abandon it, you’re sure the bread is starting to mold anyway. Poking your head around the corner, your eyes are wide as they stare down the narrow hallway. The runner in the center of the floor is left askew, shoes tossed under the hallway table cluttered with your keys and three days of mail; everything is left unopened.
The doorbell screeches like a hungry crow; you yelp a curse before clamping your hand over your mouth. There’s no way he has the gull to show up at your house…
A muffled call of your name sounds on the other side of the door followed by rapid presses of the doorbell.
It’s Nic.
You sigh, moving down the hallway as quickly as you can before tearing the door open. Nic stands there with her arm up, her hand fisted ready to knock on the door, “well, hello stranger!” Her voice is laced with sarcasm and a toothy smile to boot. She’s already setting her things down on the small breakfast nook that separates the kitchen from the living room, she follows your every move until you’re standing on the opposite side of the counter, a waiting expression sits on her face.
“Wine?” She asks. You’re impressed when she pulls a long bottle out of her purse, something like Mary Poppins would do if she wasn’t so cheerful.
You shake your head, pushing the bottle back into her bag, “I’m cutting myself off forever.”
“Ah,” she nods knowingly and it’s confirmation enough that she is aware of the revelation that occurred on the cruise. You know he called her and asked her to check on you.
You lean onto the counter and Nic does the same after propping herself up on a barstool, “he sent you,” you state rather than ask. You know your best friends through and through. And beneath your broken pride and splitting heart, you can admit that they know you just the same.
Instead of a joke, she just purses her lips and offers you an apologetic smile, “he did.”
You shrug, resting your hand under your chin. The two of you continue in a stare-off that holds a thousand words between your shaking eyes and Nic’s patient ones. She doesn’t press you like you’re used to, but perhaps that’s because she can see the sheen across your eyes or the way you keep swallowing back the lump in your throat.
Nic, opinionated in all her ways and always managing to impose them on the ones she holds near and dear, bites her bottom lip when you close your eyes only for a few tears to fall shortly after.
She clears her throat, pressing a tissue into your hand while your head hangs low; “you should talk to him, babe.”
You’re shaking your head and Nic sighs, biting back her words until you pick your head up to look at her. 
She’s careful but direct; “So that’s it, you just cut him off? For how long are you planning on doing that - for forever?” Nic knows how ridiculous that sounds. Even more than when you swore you would take your once secret love for Jungkook to the grave.
“That’s the plan,” you croak, pressing the tissue over your eyes so it can soak up your tears.
“And Mai?” Nic retorts.
Your hands drop onto the counter along with your stomach; there’s no answer for that.
“Custody isn’t necessarily a thing between friends-”
“Nic,” you give her a stern look and she apologizes.
“Look, you don’t need me to say this because I know you, and I know how much you love Mai,” Nic’s tone sounds desperate for you to hear her, “but I’m going to say it anyway - I get seeing him and talking to him sounds incredibly painful, but are you really willing to lose that little girl’s trust? I mean anyone can see that she worships the ground you walk on,” Nic can’t help but chuckle but her seriousness never fades, “if you decide never to talk to them again, that-” Nic pushes her pointer finger onto the countertop, “that will be excruciating for her…” The second to pause allows you to feel the final crushing of your heart before Nic finishes.
“You can’t make this choice for her and not be in her life all of a sudden just because you want to run away from reality - Mai is just as much in this painful reality with you and Jungkook.”
You hate how right she is. You hate that Nic has taken every single word out of your mouth and made sense of it.
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The sun is setting over the city as Jungkook continues to stare out the window of his office. It’s the end of a long workday. He’s tired after showing several houses from one end of the boulevard to the other. His feet hurt, his neck is aching, and he’s sick of wearing this stupid suit.
But he can’t think of anything else. He can’t think of anyone else. All he can think about is you. Sick with worry about his daughter who has no understanding of what’s happened. She’s asked to sleep with him every night for the past two weeks, it was the only thing that could soothe her anxiety. He wanted to be mad at you for cutting Mai off. Himself, he could understand, but Mai? Then again, he wondered how much he was to blame too. Did he unintentionally put his daughter in this spot? Going out with a different woman at least a few nights a week, asking you to babysit Mai every time? If he had just been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.
He scoffs at himself, ripping his tie from around his neck and tossing it onto his desk. Of course, idiot, if you just confessed years ago, this wouldn’t be happening. Mai wouldn’t be experiencing her first heartbreak at seven years old. Selfishly, he wouldn’t have had to see the hurt that split you right down the middle when he waltzed in that night covered in another woman’s touch.
All the times you saw him that way.
Idiot. He has to laugh. Idiot doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Hi baby,” Jungkook sweeps Mai into his arms when he finally arrives home, relieving the babysitter. Mai rests her head on his shoulder, pressing the moles she can see on his face with her finger. He’s not used to her being so quiet. 
It’s late; way past her bedtime.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Mai sighs into his shoulder.
“I know,” he rubs her back, walking into her bedroom. Maybe she could manage it tonight. Mai doesn’t fight it, climbing under her comforter when Jungkook pulls it back for her. He sits on the floor next to her bed, knees curled up to his chest, he looks back at Mai whose eyes glisten under the glow of the starry night light, “guess we need to talk, huh?” She asks.
Jungkook chuckles, pinching her cheek, “shoot.”
Mai’s eyelashes flutter when she looks away, “she always has dinner with us on Sundays,” she starts, “is she mad at me?”
Jungkook is quick to settle her disquieting thoughts, “never in a million years bud, she could never be upset with you.”
“Then why isn’t she coming over to see me?” Mai isn’t crying, but her eyes look back at Jungkook and he can feel a tear in his heart when she does.
He sighs, holding Mai’s hand inside of his; “I hurt her feelings, so I think seeing you makes it hard for her because I’m always with you, right?”
Mai nods, “So say you’re sorry dad.”
He muffles a laugh, “it’s not that easy for adults sometimes.”
“Why? Don’t you miss her too?”
“I do,” he admits, “and I care a lot about her too.” Jungkook says, eying Mai, searching for the right words before he continues, “do you know what that means, bean?” He rests his chin on top of his hand, stroking her hair away from her face with the other. Mai observes her dad, hands pressed underneath her cheek.
“Grandma says when you care about people, it means you love them, so-” she twitches her nose inquisitively and Jungkook can’t help but giggle, leaning in to pinch it, “ask me questions,” he says, helping her out.
Mai yawns, not too far from sleep. But Jungkook can’t resist this time before bed, when his daughter is on the precipice of sweet slumber and they are alone, talking about whatever. Most of the time they are teasing each other, but if Mai has spent the day with you, Jungkook especially wanted to hear about it.
“I guess, does it mean you love her like you love me?” Mai asks.
The corner of his lips quirk into a smile, “I love you more than you can ever know-” he stops to catch the twinkle in his daughter’s eye, “but this love is a little bit different.”
Mai nods and follows with a big yawn. Jungkook leans in once more to kiss her forehead, “sleep tight.”
“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” May yawns again.
Before Jungkook steps out of her room, Mai squeaks, “dad?”
“Yeah?” He turns in a heartbeat.
“I love her too, and well you know how the other kids at school-well most kids have their moms you know?”
He can feel the final shattering inside of him when he goes to rub his chest. Jungkook moves in, sitting next to Mai when she sits up, “I feel like I love her how a kid is supposed to love their mom-like she is the very best friend I will ever get to have, dad,” Mai looks up at him, “if she is mad at you, please make it better because I think we need her for forever.”
Tears brim the outside of Jungkook’s eyes, his smile trembling when he stares down at his literal heart in the shape of his child; “I love you so much,” he pulls her into his lap where Mai finds solace hiding her face in his shoulder.
“But my friend at school can never know that, it would hurt her feelings,” Mai muffles against him. Jungkook manages a gentle laugh, pressing a long kiss to the top of Mai’s head, his tears going unnoticed by his daughter.
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The last time you received a call from Mai’s school was a year ago, she pushed a boy who tried to put a dead lizard on top of her head. He fell back and scraped his elbow. Mai was not about to let the school call her dad.
‘He won’t be as mad if you’re with me!’ She insisted, holding her hand in yours as the two of you crossed the street, a detention slip in her other hand.
Listed as the third emergency contact under her grandma, your stomach churns, wondering why they would be calling you. There is no question whether you would answer or not.
“Hello?” You breathe slowly into the phone.
The woman on the other end informs you she’s the principal; “Mai’s father and grandma haven’t returned our calls; the kids had an early release today but it appears they have forgotten to pick her up, and the buses have all gone.”
You frown, they never forget to pick Mai up from school. And if either one couldn’t, you were the next in line if she wasn’t going to take the bus; “oh-uh okay, I-um-I can be there in-” you look at the clock above your desk, ignoring the incomplete work before you, “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
You rush around the room to gather your things, darting for the door with your keys in hand.
By the time you’re walking up to the school Mai is running through the main doors, the principal right behind her smiling as Mai meets you halfway. She clings around your waist and it instantly causes your eyes to water, “hi bean.”
“I missed you,” she says, pulling herself off of you only to grab your hand. She pulls you with fervor to your car, barely giving you time to look back and wave at the principal.
Once settled in the car you turn towards the backseat and look at her with raised brows, “did they know you were getting out early?”
Mai purses her lips, eyes widening when she shrugs in response, quick to open a book to read when you start the car.
“Hm,” you turn around without much afterthought, making the drive back to their house. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks since that morning which you’ve tried desperately to forget, and three weeks since talking to Jungkook and Mai.
You aren’t sure what classifies as tension between an adult and a child, but the Mai who is usually speaking faster than she can keep up with has taken to staring out the window, staring at the buildings whizzing by and trees blending into the other. You look into the rearview mirror every so often, pretending you don’t know why she looks so indifferent.
Hugging you was a good sign, but now she seems awkward, dashing out of your car and beating you to the front door. You eye each other when you make it there. She gives you a sarcastic look, looking at your keys for a moment before you get the hint. You always had a set of keys to their house. It felt weird using them now.
Mai pushes the door open impatiently, the keys still in the lock with your hand attached to it, “hey-geez, slow down will you-no running-” you smack your tongue, setting your things down when Mai runs down the hallway to her bedroom.
Your chest fills with air as you take a glance around their home, singing praises that Jungkook’s car is not in the driveway meaning he must have been too busy to eat lunch at home.
“Mai,” your voice echoes down the hallway, “Mai you know shouldn’t be running in the house.”
She’s sitting at the small table her grandpa made for her, her homework already laid out and a pencil in hand. You watch her for a moment, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment of what you’ve said. But she just sits there, chin resting in her hand while she reads over the assignment.
You sigh, moving to sit on the floor next to her, looking over her paper to read the words but all you can see is the blank expression on Mai’s face. You poke her hand, “anybody in there?”
She moves her hand into her lap and starts writing.
You know why she’s doing this and you can’t be upset, but it does sting a little. Usually, it’s a fight to get her to do her homework when you’re around; “so you’re just going to ignore me? I thought you missed me.”
It’s only then that her eyes dart to meet yours, her eyes a mirrored reflection of her father’s. It’s always amazed you how they twinkle like stardust is floating around in them. You attempt a smile but it just falls when you notice how her eyes are glistening with tears.
“I missed you too bean-”
“Na-uh, I’m a kid but you don’t need to lie to me, I’m a tough kid.” She defends herself.
“Mai,” you sigh.
“If you missed me then you would have come to see me, but you didn’t for three whole weeks, so you’re just a liar,” Mai abandons her pencil and drops her face onto the table, creating a barrier around her head with her arms.
That cuts you deep.
A liar.
You sit there and listen to her sniffle before working up the courage to touch her arm, she flinches and you wait for her to pull away but it’s more surprising when she doesn’t.
“Bean, will you look at me please?” Your tone is soft as you rub her arm. She shakes her head.
“Please," is all you can say. You watch her chest heave when she complies a minute later, cheeks wet from her tears, she can hardly keep her eyes on you. You reach over and wipe her face with the back of your hand, squeezing her chin in the process. She bites back a smile.
“You lost a tooth!” You gasp, holding onto her chin and moving it down to reveal the new gap in her bottom teeth. She can’t help but perk up at you noticing, “it fell out when I bit into an apple,” she giggles. You laugh with her, watching her round cheeks glow pink; “Mai, I really have missed you.”
She moves her lips in a thinking manner, finally, you can breathe a little bit easier when her eyes find you, “I told dad you are my best friend. And usually best friends like to see each other, so,” she hums, scrounging around for her thoughts, “so you didn’t come over and I thought you just didn’t want me to be your friend anymore.”
You’re shaking your head, cursing at yourself, “that would never happen, not in a million lifetimes kid because you’re my best friend too.”
She understands but you can still see the questioning in her expression as she tries to piece it all together so it can make sense. You pull Mai closer to you until she is sitting right in front of you, her legs tucked underneath herself; “I am so sorry bean, for not talking to you and for not coming around-” you start but you wonder how to continue, looking around the room as if there is some viable answer written on the walls, “I was…angry about something and it hurt me really bad. So I thought being alone would make me feel better.”
Mai plays with your hands, perhaps not even noticing she is doing it, “did it?”
You have to chuckle at her, if only you had a measure of Mai’s honesty, you and Jungkook would not be in this current situation, “no, because I just ended up hurting the one person who means so much to me, the only one who has never hurt me back.”
Mai looks at you hopefully, “me?”
A smile beams across your face and you pull Mai into you until she is giggling, “yes you, silly.”
After a moment of light-heartedness, Mai settles back down, drawing circles into the shag rug, “dad said he hurt your feelings, so I guess this is all his fault.”
You hum, rubbing your hand over her hair, “well - no, I can’t put all the blame-”
“MAI?” The desperate yell for her name causes both of you to jump. Mai clamors to her feet, darting into her bathroom and slamming the door shut.
“What-Mai?” You’re launched into a panic, one over the fact that Mai’s face drained of any color at the sound of her dad’s gruff voice and second, it’s Jungkook’s voice.
Her name falls off of his tongue like rapid fire. Before you can say anything he tears into Mai’s bedroom and comes to a screeching halt at the sight of you. He’s breathless, staring at you. All you can manage is to gesture at the bathroom door, “she ran in there.” Just then Mrs. Jeon comes in behind her son, worried eyes finding relief upon seeing you, “oh thank God, please tell me Mai is here,” she sighs.
You nod, confused as ever, “her principal called me because it was an early day and nobody was there to pick her up…” You stop, realizing there was a major miscommunication and Mai was the culprit.
Jungkook’s eyes are fierce, eyebrows in a straight line when he moves in front of the bathroom door, hand rattling the doorknob which is now locked. He makes a fist ready to pound on it when his mom stops him, “you’ll just make it worse,” she speaks calmly, looking back at you. Her hands are trembling when she reaches out to you, you move forward and grab them.
You fumble with words, “She must’ve-”
“We’ve been looking everywhere for the last hour - since when did my kid start scheming - open this door Mai!” Jungkook starts again, his worry fuming out of him.
“Jungkook-ah, please,” Mrs. Jeon pleaded, pushing herself between the door and her son, “the important part is that she is safe…why don’t you go to the kitchen, get some water and just relax for a moment.”
“Mom-”
She shakes her head, “I will talk to her, now go.”
Hesitantly he drags his feet and leaves the room. Your stomach does flips when Mrs. Jeon settles her attention on you, hand resting on the doorknob of Mai’s bathroom.
Please, don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-
“Will you keep an eye on him, please? I don’t know why but he’s been so worked up lately-” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, unsure of what else to say. You take a deep breath in, nodding as you march out of the room at a snail’s pace.
He’s bent at the waist, face pressed into his palms before he runs them back through his hair- it’s shorter now. He takes a deep breath that is promptly cut off when he sees you standing there, your hands resting on top of the granite countertop. Your fingers twitch with anxiety, palms feeling clammy as your heartbeat picks up again.
He finishes a glass of water, turning around to set it down in the sink. He doesn’t look back at you, resting his hands at the edge of the counter, “thanks for being there,” his voice is barely audible, “you-uh, you don’t have to stay-”
“I’m sorry.”
His shoulders tense, another breath is trapped in his throat at the sound of your voice. It rasps and shakes at the threat of new tears but you hold them back for as long as you can. You aren’t sure how long that will last.
“Jungkook?” You aren’t confident saying his name, unsure if he is seething because of Mai or if it’s really because of you.
He nods before turning around, looking at the top of your head before his gaze shakes over your eyes until he gives up, looking down at the floor.
“I don’t know-” you stop when you hear Mrs. Jeon come down the hallway, she stands next to you and rubs your back, a more relaxed smile on her face.
“She failed to let us know that it was an early day, says she forgot,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs. You and Jungkook look at each other knowing full well that Mai is the mastermind behind this very moment; “but she understands the severity of what she caused and is ready to apologize to you,” his mom looks from her son to you, “and you.”
Jungkook thanks her and walks her to the front door after she hugs you; “oh,” she calls to you gently, “come over for dinner soon? It’s like pulling teeth to get this boy to bring you over, we miss you.”
You just nod, smiling at her before Jungkook closes the door behind her. He rubs the back of his neck, reclaiming his spot across from you. The island provides a safe space between the two of you as you lean your weight against it.
“I’m sorry,” his tone is unsure but you can feel the guilt radiate from him, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that,” he sighs, “and so many other things.” He mutters the last part but you manage to hear it.
“I was hurt,” you swallow so hard that even he can hear it, “I’ve had so much pent up - for years…I just lost it.”
“We always talk about everything. I mean, d-don’t you think I would have wanted to know about something that important?” His words are desperate to be heard, steeped in weeks of constant questioning.
“You make it sound like confessing is so easy,” you can’t help the frown that appears, “the risk involved? Because telling you just so I can be rejected doesn’t mean just losing you,” your voice struggles, “I’ll lose Mai too and god, I can’t stomach that.”
He’s looking at you now, directly at you, blinking away what you can only assume are tears.
“I-I didn’t want to risk that so I held it in, I pushed it away until I believed that I didn’t love you anymore but,” you shake your head, “I realized it wasn’t going to go away even after every date you came home from. How I’ve had to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when you traipse in after you’ve been with another woman, a woman that could never be me - will never be me. I was so mad that I couldn’t be jealous enough or hurt enough by that to stop loving you. I want to stop, but I can’t figure out how-” your words taper off when you notice a trace of a smile spreads across his lips. 
“Are you sm-smiling?” Your hands tremble and you’re ready to storm out of there.
He is smiling, it’s barely there but you can see it. 
“Can I say something?” His eyebrows lift as he looks at you with hopeful eyes.
You aren’t sure if you should be offended by the crooked smile on his face, the same one that melts your insides and makes your palms sweat. You just nod, ready to take on another offense.
“I love you too.” His voice is shaking. 
Everything stops. Your heart launches into your throat and you aren’t sure if you’re breathing anymore. You can feel your mouth fall open, you have to tell yourself to close it. Jungkook just waits.
The confident, suave Jungkook you know all too well is replaced by the loving human you have known even more. The man who masks his worth with fleeting escapades that never last past one night or a weekend at most.  
“What? What do you mean,” you stutter, your lungs feel like they are collapsing, “why are you telling me this now?”
Jungkook closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head, “I’m scared too.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you. 
He takes you in, the intensity of his stare enough to make you fall back, you can only hope there’s enough strength left in your legs to hold yourself up. Your stomach flips when he makes a step forward to which you take one back.
“You didn’t give me a chance to say anything when it all happened,” his feet move toward you again in one small step, “I wanted to tell you then but rightfully so, you were so upset. Then you were telling me to leave-”
“I didn’t-I-”
“You didn’t want me to reject you?” Jungkook fills in the blanks for you. You nod sheepishly, wringing your hand around your wrist.
The air stills when Jungkook’s fingertips graze your hand, “have I ever rejected you since we’ve known each other?”
Your mind races. Intentionally, no he hasn’t. As much as you dropped everything to be with Mai, Jungkook would do the same. When your car broke down on the freeway late one night? Jungkook was there before the tow truck, a sleeping Mai in the back seat of their car. When you didn’t get the promotion you worked tirelessly to earn? He was at your apartment to pick up the pieces, later that night you and Mai baked cookies together and ended that awful day with a movie - the three of you cuddled up on your couch.
Jungkook has always been there.
“God, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Jungkook can’t stop himself long enough to allow you to stay in your thoughts. He can practically see your heart thumping out of your chest, he can feel your warm breath stagger out of your mouth. It isn’t until he decides to reach up and touch your neck with a ghostly touch does your breathing still. His touch is so slight it leaves goosebumps all over your skin. You swallow the lump in your throat when his hand grazes your jaw before he cups it around the side of your face. His fingers rub the shell of your ear.
“Do you still want me?” He fills the gap between you with careful steps; you can see the longing in his eyes and you wonder for how long you’ve missed that. With the little space left, it’s almost too difficult to look up at him; “Jungkook I-”
His breath stops at the sound of your voice like he’s ready for the ultimate rejection. His beating heart prepares for more pain.
“Yes,” You’re breathless. You only catch a second of the smile spreading his cheeks before he pulls you in. Muscular arms wrapping tightly around you but he’s careful to leave breathing room. All too naturally, your face nuzzles in his shoulder, breathing in his scent as your arms fold around his waist.
His nose presses into your hair, cheek warm against your temple.
“Wait,” you push your hands against his chest to create space. He grabs your hands to keep you close, “are you serious?”
He chuckles, nodding, his warm breath casts over your face, putting you deeper under his spell.
“After all of that happened, I didn’t think I had a chance. I didn’t think it could even be a possibility before,” his eyes look uncertain now, “you know too much about me,” he runs his fingers back through your hair, “but you are everything to me…you’ve loved Mai without me even asking you to,” he sighs, his expressions always more serious than most but it’s the Jungkook you know. Innocent eyes staring down at you, “watching you with Mai these last seven years has been the highlight of my life, but it was torturous too-”
You press your face into his chest, chuckling while tears overcome you, “torturous?”
Jungkook picks your chin up and kisses your tears away; “you were always in arm's reach but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I just settled to silently love you.”
You shake your head, allowing Jungkook to wipe each tear away with his thumb.
“I was afraid it would confuse Mai. She’s my world too, you know?” You whisper.
“She’s too wise for her age,” he brushes his nose against yours, wearing the smile that exposes his bunny teeth, “trust me, she knows enough that we should be a family.” 
His eyes search for an answer in yours, you don’t have to ask for the question running through his mind when his gaze sweeps over your lips. The only thing that forces him to stop is when he chuckles low.
“What?” You smile, head floating in ecstasy, you think you could pass out.
“I guess that stupid fortune was true.”
You shake your head with a small smile. He fidgets, “I love you-” he manages to get out before your lips press against his. They are slightly chapped but so soft as they mold to yours. You can feel your skin growing hot when his tongue rubs against your bottom lip. It takes everything in you not to burst right then and there, fallen victim to his tender kiss.
“I love you,” you stop to say. His slight pout at the break in your kiss makes you chuckle.
Jungkook lets his chin rest against your shoulder when he pulls you in, the two of you staying that way for a little bit. If not for the quiet pad of Mai’s bare feet tapping down the hallway, he thinks he could have stayed that way with you all night.
His eyes brighten when he sees Mai stoke around the corner, saucer-sized eyes spying on the two of you.
“Come here bean,” Jungkook’s voice surprises you, and you pull away as Mai runs into the kitchen. Before you can say anything to her, she wraps her arms around your middle, nose pressed into your hip. She muffles something.
You sniffle, “I can’t understand you,” you giggle, grabbing her chin in a tender grip so she can look up at you. Her eyes are wet again, resting her chin against your stomach, “I said, I love you.” Mai whispers like her dad can’t hear her. Her cheeks grow red and she immediately shies away.
Jungkook rubs her back with a loving stroke when he hears your breath catch in your throat. You kneel and take Mai’s face in your hands, “I love you so much, bean.”
“Enough to stick around forever?” She laughs nervously, swallowing back a soft cry, “because it was horrible without you, dad doesn’t know how to build forts like you do.” Jungkook laughs, nudging Mai’s back with his knee.
There’s a gentle mending in your heart when she says that, you stroke her hair and laugh with glistening eyes, “I promise I’ll build forts with you until we’re both too big to fit in them, and even then kid, you can’t ever get rid of me.” You are struggling to hold back the ugliest of sobs.
Mai doesn’t answer, she only falls forward into your arms, nuzzling her face into your hair. Jungkook joins you, resting on his knees to wrap the two of you into his hold. 
You pull your face away enough so you can look at him. He kisses you before mouthing the words you’ve so yearned to hear him say; “I love you.”
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jesuisstay · 7 months
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Dad! Changbin
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Listen my baby fever is so high recently. And @strayflowersstarsandlove is to blame for that (jk their dad!skz smau is just🥰🥰🥰). Please go show them some love on those if you haven’t already!!!
This little guy finally came together so @amyz78 I hope you like it!!
Read my other dad!skz headcannons here: Chan, Minho
Changbin walked in on you, pregnancy test in hand. You felt paralyzed. How could there be the two lines it should only be one? Your eyes struggled to meet his, but the weigh on you lifted when you say the smile blooming across his face.
it wasn’t easy, Changbin wanted to involved in everything. Even if that meant moving you across town to live with him. Buts that’s nothing he couldn’t hire movers to help with as he explained. He also kept explaining he paid for them to pack and move EVERYTHING of yours so baby please don’t stress either of you out with something as silly as this.
Changbin, who in his excitement couldn’t keep the news from his family who are now inviting themselves over for a weekly meeting. But even if his parents might be pushing for how they want their grandchild raised, Bin firmly has your back on what you two have decided.
He would be obsessed with the progress photos and apps. He be analyzing you bump down to the tea to know exactly how his baby is doing. Everyone thought at first it was to see if they are boy or girl (you wanted it secret until you meet them) but man just really needs to know his baby is 100% healthy
Changbin would also buy a portable ultra sound. The typical sound track of whatever mix he was stuck on was now replaced with the swoosh and patter on the little heart inside you. He’s already got their pattern memorized, carefully listening for those little eight notes.
He literally has never missed a birthing/parenting class except for one. He was so distraught with himself for missing the vital information on disposable vs reusable diapers. He might have been at work, but he was listening to everything he could via the speaker phone call he made you start.
He has his own little secret birth plan, but that goes out the window when your water breaks in the middle of the night because the baby is coming NOW. He’s on the phone with a midwife the entire time as he waits for them to get there but with how fast it’s going he has to step in.
Changbin won’t lie, the sight of a person coming out of a person is the freakiest thing he’s ever seen. Until he’s got his daughter in his arms, cleaning out her airways when in the middle of her screaming she opens her big eyes up at him. He thought he loved her unconditionally before but now he knows how much he truly loves her
In the end, little baby seo was delivered in the early hours of the morning and the midwife arrived just as mom and baby were settling down for a feeding.
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kookiecrumb · 2 years
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JJK || Scandalous
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pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader
summary: After coming home from his Vegas shows, Jungkook defends his fidelity in a bold way.
tags: smut (18+), idol!jungkook, semi-angry sex that turns mushy, lil rough, oral (m&f receiving), bigdick!jk, manhandling, horny grinding, penetration
warnings: cheating accusations, strong language warning, unsafe sex* (please use protection)
a/n: I was high while I wrote half of this. Here.
-
"I know what you were doing in Vegas. Don't you try to lie to me or throw me off because I have evidence," you shout at him.
Jungkook is laying across your couch, infuriatingly unbothered.
"Evidence of me with another woman. Sure. Like I'd leave the love of my life for a random girl I've never seen before," Jungkook shakes his head, amused.
"Oh, so you're laughing now?!" You mock his smile. "You're laughing, having the time of your life because you cheated in Vegas and you think you're gonna get away with it."
"Yeah. I do. Because that's not some random girl in that picture-- that's our translator!" Jungkook screams. "It's our fucking translator and she was helping me buy a drink. I was looking out for the rest of the guys."
"Hm!"
"I don't believe you," you mutter, zooming into the picture that was circulating through stan Twitter just minutes ago.
News articles have already gotten to work spreading their rumors and dating scandals and it pissed you off beyond anything.
"Of course you don't," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "You know what? Why don't you call Namjoon, then? He was there. Ask anyone. I'm not a fucking cheater, y/n."
At this point, Jungkook was getting heated and you were afraid that if you doubted him one more time he would snap at you.
It's early in the morning, so calling Namjoon wasn't an option. He's probably asleep.
There's no use in fighting, so you need to find a way to redirect this energy into something a little more palettable for the both of you.
"Prove it then," you challenge.
"Prove what?"
"Prove that you wouldn't ever fuck another woman. Fuck me like you hate me."
Jungkook's fists unravel and his face relaxes. His eyes intensify and his demeanor changes completely. He's aroused.
"That's right. You get a boner every time I yell at you. You just want to shut me up with your dick, don't you? I'll believe you if you can dick me down by force," you speak.
"I'm not gonna dick you down by force while we're fighting," Jungkook crosses his arms.
"Aww...I respect your decision. I just thought you might have wanted a chance to prove me wrong, Kookie..." you pout, climbing into his lap.
His strong hands grip your hips immediately and he holds you that way as he tries to maintain his pride.
"Besides..."
You lean closer to his ear, rasping softly, and say: "it's not like she could ever do it like me."
"God damn it, y/n. You can't do that. You can't be a fucking brat and piss me off so that you get it rough," he protests, his ears turning red.
You swirl your fingers up his chest and smirk a little. "Yeah right...I can do whatever I want..."
Jungkook bites his lip, a surge of anger overcoming him as he struggles to keep his composure. "That's now how you get things."
You hum, ruffling your fingers through his black hair softly. "Hm. Show me, then..." you play.
He takes deep breaths, his chest inflating beneath your hands on his clothed chest as he spreads his palms on your ass and kneads you stupidly rough. "You're impossible."
"I know..."
Jungkook collapses his lips into yours gently. The kiss is smooth and delicate, reminiscent of an apology for making you even think he'd be the kind of person to hurt you.
From then on, a cocktail of pain and pleasure clouds your vision and you fall under the spell of sweet desire.
"Fuck, fuck--" you gasp as his mouth migrates to the lower half of your body, his strong hands framing your thighs. He dives between your hips and pins them down.
With stunted breath above your cunt, Jungkook gazes up with his dazzled eyes and takes you into his mouth.
You pry open your legs and he throws you back down and presses his tongue inside you. Hungry, he adjusts his posture.
You look over his back, textured by hard-earned muscle, and slightly glowing. "Mmh--" you whimper. God, you're helpless for how jacked he is.
Fuck, you melt for him.
"Just like that, wifey," he encourages you, snaking up your body and gathering you in his arms. He takes your hands and places them above his hips, dragging them downwards.
Jungkook connects his mouth to your neck and kisses you.
You know how to touch him the way he needs, so you wrap your hand around him, scarcely closing it, and stroke him languidly.
He lets out a breathy groan, riding your fist with ease. "Hh-- aaahh,"
Jungkook is cocky about the size of his dick. He's overtly aware of the fact that it's impressive. Because of that, he'll say things like:
"Yeah, slut, take my fat cock," Jungkook pants out. He closes his eyes as you climb over him and pop his cock in your mouth.
Jungkook breaks into a smile, relaxing his shoulders into the pillows beneath him. He sinks into the bed, focusing on the feeling of your hot mouth on his cock.
You lap at his most sensitive spots, spreading your tongue on his shaft and kissing the tip generously.
Beneath his breath, Jungkook begs. "fuck, yes, yes, yeah, mm, yeah, yes~"
His ringed fingers are holding the sheets beneath him, his exposed body in full display for you. This is a view only one woman has the right to.
With a breath through your nose and a little bit of courage, you take him in your throat and swallow around him.
His legs twitch as he rips out a groan, followed by a slew of beautiful curses. "Babe-- ,, ohh-- babe--" he whines.
One last kiss to his pretty pink tip and your thighs are over his, rubbing your swollen cunt against his dick.
He captures you in a sweet kiss, ridden with pleasurable noise and skipped breaths. Jungkook stretched his hands around your breasts and holds them, squeezing them with each rocking thrust.
Hastily, he grabs a hold of your legs. Then, he guides his cock to penetrate you. You help him eagerly, lifting above him only to lower yourself down his entire juicy length.
"Fuck-- holy fuck, Jungkook--" you moan.
Jungkook hides his smile within a kiss and completes a shallow thrust inside you.
"This is my favorite thing, you know. Pussy. Your pussy, in particular," he runs his hands down the curve of your back. "Sexy motherfucker."
He snaps his hips up into you, his hands comfortably resting above your ass.
Above him, your hands hold his jaw. You rest against him, infatuated with his delicate features. His cock rests above your cervix now, pushing your bladder just slightly.
You watch his Adam's apple bob, his heartrate climb as he tightens his grip on you. There's nothing more beautiful.
Your hands are on his chest now, and he's pulling you deeper as your hips roll into his cock. He pumps upwards, his lips collapsing into yours as your bodies collide.
In a daze, a wave of tension overcomes your body. He chases it, his big hands pressing into your skin with each powerful thrust. Your scent swallows him.
His thoughts flood as his thrusts slow, pushing further, accompanying a broken groan. He cums hard, and you cream around him.
-
permatag gang gang: @silversparkles11 , @lvoekook @sammy-steve-btsarmyakasammy , @kooliv , @koobsessed , @angelwonie , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz , @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy , @hgema , @jjkeverlast , @nglmrk , @devilsbooksworld , @saweetspoiled , @exactlyfuriouscoffee and @unicornbabylover
:) I'll be back guys.
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
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The ilysib couple are so cute and secure in their relationship🤧🤧 I want, no I NEED him😭
Has the oc ever felt jealous/protective of jk when another woman tries to flirt with him?
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"Here, let me help.." Jungkook tells you, reaching out to take the glass bottle of strawberry flavored ramune from your struggling hands, palms already an angry red from trying to push the glass marble in by yourself. He, on the other hand, doesn't even use his palm at all- a push from his thumb all that's needed for him as he quickly drinks the foam bubbling up from the bottle, before he gives it to you.
But before you can even say thank you, someone next to him giggles, her friend behind her equally as charmed by his actions it seems like as she leans on her hand, cleavage pushed forwards so much that you're wondering when her tits will finally spill out. "It's so cute seeing a guy take care of girls like that." The older girl says, looking at Jungkook, and you freeze up for a second. "My brother has to take care of his besties' sister sometimes too, I get it." She laughs, and you put down your drink at that.
What?
It's something that you've noticed happening quite a lot with Jungkook at your side. Maybe it's your girly outfits sometimes looking more cute than sexy just because you feel like wearing something more comfortable. Maybe it's the height difference between you and Jungkook. Maybe it's your rather round face that makes people think you're younger than you are, especially when you don't dress revealing and confident.
It's, after all, one of the reasons you do dress like that, most of the time. Because you're just not being taken seriously otherwise- and right now, you're just being proven right on that.
You don't want to cause a scene and put Jungkook on the spot however, knowing how uncomfortable things like that make him- so you just stand up, shrug off your partially see-through beach cover over your chair next to him, before you lean over to kiss his cheek. "I'll be going for a swim, alright?" You say, and he nods, a bit caught off guard- before he watches you walk off, towards the sea where you slowly walk further into the deeper water.
He's suspected that you have a distaste for things like that- being belittled by others especially.
He's noticed that you're a little sensitive about jokes made concerning your height or soft facial features, and it had taken you quite a long time to ask him for help for.. anything, really. And even now, you much rather break your neck and twist your limbs in order to reach a higher shelf in the grocery store than ask him who's more often than not right next to you.
He doesn't know what to do to help. Because while he knows that you hate being called that, you are simply.. cute to him.
"Would you join us for the beach party tonight?" The girl next to him asks, pulling him out of his thoughts- and he shrugs, before he takes your beach cover, folding the see-through fabric before he puts it in your bag that he zips up. "Aw, come on-"
"Gotta ask my girlfriend if she's up for it." He simply says, before he waves at you to come back- something you do, though your face still shows some discomfort.
"Oh- well, it was worth a try." The girl says, shrugging. "But considering she's not here right now, you can always call me up when you get tired of her-" She leans closer, when Jungkook stands up, not even looking at her. Instead, he wraps the pink beach towel over your shoulders so you can dry off, and picks up your bag for you.
"I wanna go somewhere less crowded.." He mumbles towards you, and you not quietly. "Hey." He says, catching your attention to look up at him, giving him a good angle to kiss you- something that definitely catches you off guard- before you can feel his hands adjusting your bathing suit to cover your chest a bit better. "Okay?" He asks you, and you're not sure what he's asking-
But you nod.
And so he holds your hand the entire way from the beach to his car, to drive to a more secluded spot like he said. And he also holds your hands in the back of his car, where he shows you just how much he loves your body just the way that it is, no matter how much you dislike it.
And while it doesn't cure your insecurities, his love and care does help you, little by little.
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back2bluesidex · 11 months
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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 3 (18+)
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Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 
Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!
Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, implied smut
Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, implied smut, multiple pov changes, we got Hoseok's POV too!! mentions of alcohol consumption, a flashback, palpable tension between Hoseok and reader.
Word count: 4.7k
Taglist requests are closed.
Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog
A/N: The chapter starts with Hoseok's POV. JK's POV is added to the very end of the story. Sorry for the delay. I really struggled with this chapter. But I hope you guys like it. Please share your thoughts, I'd love to talk to you about it. and even if you are only reading the story, I still love you regardless.
Main Masterlist
Chapters:- 
Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale
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“It’s so big, dad! It’s so big” the astonishment in Sua’s voice fills Hoseok’ heart with adoration. How come he has given birth and raised such an adorable human being! 
Even if ten years ago somebody had told him that he would be raising a daughter alone with very little to no help, he would have laughed at their faces. But now, he can’t even think of a time when Sua wouldn’t be with him to brighten up his day, his life, his entire existence.
“Sua, let’s get into the queue! Fast!” your voice cuts through the thin chill of the air. 
Hoseok’s eyes land on your figure and he finds you as beautiful as ever, if not more. He has come across countless women in his life but there are very few who have left any impact on him. 
You are definitely one of them. 
He knew you had to be special from the moment he witnessed Namjoon apparently struggling to shut his mouth while praising you and your capabilities. Hoseok knows his childhood friend too well and he knows that the man is not someone to be impressed easily. Hence, you had to be really compatible. 
But he definitely didn’t expect you to be so attractive. 
The moment his eyes met yours, he knew it was going to be hard for him to maintain this doctor-client relationship with you. And he was right. Things are getting even harder because he has to see you in your casual (and pretty) clothing, smiling and laughing with his daughter, and being equally excited about getting in the giant merry-go-round. 
One of the very few things that he learnt about you includes the fact that you don’t need a ton of makeup or extravagant dresses to look bold and beautiful. When he saw you at the clinic for the first time, you were wearing a formal blouse and dress pants and yet you looked effortlessly attractive. During both of the outdoor therapy sessions, you chose to wear jeans and tops. And again Hoseok is finding it hard to divert his eyes from you. 
On top of that, seeing you and Sua blending and bonding so well, makes him wish for forbidden things that are both too unethical and early for him to wish. 
“Daddy! Are you coming or not?” Sua shouts from a distance and that’s when Hoseok realizes that he has been far too lost in his thoughts, or more like, his thoughts of you. 
He walked fast towards the steps where you and Sua are standing, the same steps lead you into the small cabin of the giant merry-go-round. 
Sua’s shoes clink against the metal floor of the small cabin making both of you and Hoseok laugh at her excitement. She settles at one side of the cabin and gestures to both of you to come inside. 
Just as Hoseok is about to step inside, you hold his arm with your small palm. Something warm floods inside Hoseok and he finds this simple, insignificant act way too intimate. He eyes the place where your hand is touching him and then looks into your eyes. 
God! Your eyes are so beautiful, probably the most beautiful pair of eyes he has ever seen. He feels heat creeping up his neck. 
“You may hear things that will break your heart or unsettle you but I would appreciate it if you could keep your cool and refrain from reacting much.” your voice is low enough to make sure Sua doesn’t hear you. Hoseok understands and nods as you two finally settle inside the cabin. You sit beside Sua while he sits in the opposite direction. 
The cabin is almost midair when Hoseok sees your body going rigid, your face losing colors and your eyes shutting on their own accord. On the other hand, Sua seems to be enjoying the view much more than what is expected from a seven year old.  
It doesn’t take anyone a second guess to make out that you are acrophobic. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” Hoseok voices out of concern, reaching for your hands in the process. You nod to assure your well-being. 
Sua whips her head and turns to take a look at you. 
“Y/N! Are you afraid of merry-go-rounds?” Sua grips your fingers with her small hands. Hoseok takes his approaching hands back under his custody. 
You laugh a little, even though your face says you are two seconds away from throwing up. 
“Not exactly merry-go-round, Sua. But I am afraid of heights.” You reply through your gritted teeth. 
“Oh? Is that a thing?” Sua questions. Hoseok sits back and observes the conversation. He realizes you are about to make it about Sua very soon. 
“Yes. Fear of heights is called Acrophobia. But it was a secret! Now you know one of my biggest secrets, Sua!” you fake annoyance, all through your nerve-wrecking fear. Hoseok is surely very amazed with you now. 
“Oh no!” Sua giggles. 
“Don’t laugh. In exchange for my secret, you gotta tell me one of your secrets too. Or better tell me what you are afraid of the most? It’s a rule. You can’t back off.” You seem to ease up quite a lot now. 
“What am I afraid of? Do I have to tell you?” Sua questions with a very serious expression. 
“Yes. don’t you think it will be unfair to me if you don’t?” You reason. 
“That is right. But then daddy has to tell us his secret too. He heard you, just like me!” Sua pouts. Hoseok chuckles at his daughter's cute protests. 
“Sure. I don’t have a problem.” he mutters. Eyes drifting to your face, which is focused on Sua. He sighs. You look even more beautiful under the golden hue of the setting sun. You look unreal, almost like a dream. 
“Okay then let's start with Hoseok, shall we?”  You speak with a trembling voice as the giant wheel starts to move again. 
“Yes. yes. Daddy should go first.” Sua chimes in, way too delighted to finally know what scares her father the most. 
“Spiders. I am afraid of spiders the most! God, those little creatures are the bane of my existence.'' As soon as Hoseok’s sentence ends, he hears roars of laughter from both of you and his daughter. 
“I knew it! Daddy hates bugs so much!” Sua breaks into another fit of laughter, you join her soon after.   
Hoseok feels like an achievement, having made you and Sua laugh so loud, it’s certainly an achievement to him. 
“Okay okay! It’s your turn now.” you say while winding a hand around Sua’s little body, tugging her close to you. 
For the first time in the afternoon, Hoseok finds his heart beating erratically because of you. 
“I-” Sua’s face loses the glow in an instant, “I am- I am afraid of dark rooms. Dark rooms are so scary. I hate it! I-I hate it!” She covers her ears with her tiny palms. 
Hoseok’s heart breaks at the sight, just like you had warned him earlier. He tries to reach out for Sua but sees you tugging her close to your chest, patting her back and calming her down before her anxiety excelates any further. 
“Does Jaemin have anything to do with this, Sua?” you approach carefully, patting her back during the entire time. 
Sua doesn’t say anything but she nods in your chest. 
Hoseok’s heart breaks even more. He has been raising Sua providing every possible comfort he could offer. He thought he was successful in keeping his daughter away from all the harms of the world, but he was wrong. Somewhere, out of his knowledge, Sua was being terribly treated. The thought ensues a destructive anger in him, both for whoever Jaemin is and for himself. No matter how much he tried to be a great father, he failed to protect his babygirl and he is totally ashamed of himself. 
When he looks up at you, he finds you smiling at him as if to assure something, as if to say, “hey, it’s alright”. He returns the smile with a heavy heart. 
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One thing about Sua is that it’s really easy to divert her mind and cheer her up. 
Only an hour ago she was trembling in your chest, engulfed in fear of dark rooms and that bully. But right now she is smiling widely, totally thrilled to be riding the Camelot Carousel. 
However, the person you are currently worried about is Hoseok. He is not at all doing well. 
“You okay?” Letting your voice sound a little concerned, you ask Hoseok. 
“I don’t know. I feel like I failed my duties as a parent. I couldn’t protect her.” Hoseok sighs. His shoulders rise and fall, making them brush with yours. It somewhat pains you to see him like this, especially when you could tell him for hours how good of a father he is despite all the complexities he had faced.  
“Are you a magician or something?” you reply a little playfully. 
“What?” Hoseok chuckles.
“No, right? Then how can you expect everything to be under your control? You are a human being after all, Hoseok. Being a parent doesn’t give you superpowers. There will always be shortcomings. But considering you have failed because of those, is certainly not justified. You are a good, in fact a great dad, Hoseok. And I need you to believe that yourself.” By the time you finish talking, you find Hoseok facing you. 
Both of you are lost in each others’ eyes. All the chatters, clamoring, noise, the music from the carousel have faded in the background. Silence is buzzing in your ears and your eyes are focusing only on him. 
Hoseok’s hair is not as styled as the other two times you have seen him. It’s more casual and curly today. Some curls fall on his forehead, almost reaching his eyes. His eyes are as dark and intimidating as ever. And if you are not wrong then you find those dropping on your lips momentarily before he is dragging his eyes back to yours again. 
“You are a good psychologist but.. you are a better human being and I hope you know that, Y/N.” Hoseok speaks a little breathlessly. 
“Maybe.. Or maybe not.” You add, finally turning your body towards the carousel again. You don’t look at him anymore. You don’t want him to read the vulnerability in your eyes that formed because he called you a good human being. 
Your mind instantly goes back to Jungkook. You blame him for everything. He is the reason why you are so sensitive, so miserable that your eyes are blurring just because someone called you a good person. 
It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And pathetically Jungkook doesn’t care about the state he has pushed you in. 
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“I didn’t get to ask you earlier but are you okay?” Hoseok asks, walking side-by-side with you while carrying Sua piggyback as she is fast asleep. 
You get a little nervous at his question. Did hoseok really see the miserable you through your strong girl facade? 
“Yes. I'm totally fine. Why are you asking though?” you quiz back. 
“You pretty much lost all the color of your face while riding on the giant wheel.” Hoseok chuckles a little. 
“Oh. that!” you chuckle too, “I am fine now.” 
“Do you always do this? I mean, going out of your comfort zone to help your patients?” 
“That’s a part of our job. If we can’t face our fears, we won’t be able to help others.” You sigh a little. 
Hoseok only nods and you two fall in a comfortable silence. 
“It was a great day, and we made good progress. Hope she will open up more to me by the next session. So, see you next friday?” You say as you approach your car. 
“Oh- next friday. Shit! I almost forgot.” Hoseok groans and you find it mindlessly attractive, “I have a very important hearing next Friday. We may have to skip the session.” 
“Skipping a session might not be a wise choice as she finally started to talk. Is there a way to reschedule it?” You shift your weight from one foot to another. 
“I am so sorry but I will be occupied with all the preparations for this whole week. I don’t think I can make it before saturday.” Hoseok pouts a little. 
And good lord! He is so manly yet so cute! You feel like running away again!
“I can work this Saturday if you want.” you propose, knowing exactly what you are doing. 
“Really? I will be so grateful if you do but I don’t want to ruin your weekend.” 
“I don’t have anything special planned anyway. So..” You just hope you don’t sound desperate. 
“Okay. Done! Saturday at the same time? I will text you the venue later on?” Hoseok smiles widely and you feel your heart melting. 
You nod. 
On your way back home, you feel a little guilty about the way you persuaded Hoseok earlier. You practically just used him as an excuse to refrain from going to Jimin’s party. You know Jungkook will be there and you don’t want to see him. You will briefly see Jimin and give him the gift before meeting Hoseok and Sua. 
Work is always one of the most plausible excuses after all. 
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There are two thoughts plaguing Hoseok’s mind. 
One, Sua being bullied at school and him being unaware of it all.
Two, You.  
You are doing the unexplainable to him. 
He had many people telling him that he is a great dad, he is doing an exceptional job in raising his daughter almost alone, but all of those words felt hollow and more like a courtesy than like an appreciation. 
However, for the very first time when he felt those words to be genuine, those were coming out of your mouth. 
“Being a parent doesn’t give you superpowers. There will always be shortcomings. But thinking you have failed because of those, is certainly not justified. You are a good, in fact a great dad, Hoseok. And I need you to believe that yourself.”  your words replay in his head. He intakes a sharp breath and sips whiskey from his glass.
Staring at the almost deserted road outside his window, he feels sympathetic for them. Because he knows what it is like to be deserted, to be alone. 
On nights like these, when he is a little unsettled, a little troubled, a little miserable… he seeks warmth of a shelter, a home, a lover. 
Hoseok sighs, closing his eyes he tries to picture a lover and the face he sees throws him off the edge… because it’s you. It’s his daughter’s therapist, somebody he doesn’t even know that well, somebody that is clearly off limits. 
He growls in frustration, slams the glass of liquor hardly on the table in the process.
He should not be feeling like this. He is beyond the age of having innocent crushes. It’s only need, want and lust at this point of his life. And there’s no way you can satiate those. 
So, he does what he could arrange. He takes his phone and dials the number of the person he knows will keep his bed warm at night. 
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Saturday rolls around much faster than you would prefer. For once you consider canceling the plan but then you opt for going. 
Jungkook and you had a messy breakup, that’s true, but your common set of friends or acquaintances have nothing to do with it. They are more of Jungkook’s friends than yours anyway. So, you have nothing to lose if they suddenly start blaming you even if it’s your ex-boyfriend who ended the relationship. 
However, you know Jimin would be different. He knows you better than any other friend of Jungkook. And he is the reason why you two met. 
Four years ago, when you were a fresh graduate, broke and desperate. You rented this cheap studio apartment. Jimin was your neighbor living just across the hall. And Jungkook was (and is) his best friend. 
There was nothing romantic about yours and Jungkook’s meeting, rather it was a scene to be remembered. 
It was summer, burning hot. Jimin, being weirdly himself, decided to dive into his very uncomfortable and shallow bathtub. Without a doubt, his decision resulted in him having a bump on the forehead. 
Jimin somehow managed to call Jungkook, who came to his rescue. Who also came knocking on your door in search of ice. That’s the day you met him for the first time, then became friends and in turn, lovers. 
The memory of Jungkook asking you out stings like a fresh wound these days. 
“So I was thinking…” he’d said, eyes zoning out of focus. He had looked at everything else other than you. 
“Hmm?” you had an idea what was this going to be about and you were elated to say the least. You and Jungkook had been flirting with each other for a good time already. A comment here, a touch there, all of it made you feel like you were new. You were in love for the very first time and you realized you have never loved any of your past partners as much as you loved this doe eyed, bunny featured boy. 
You knew your feelings were reciprocated as you were able to read Jungkook and the way he would behave around you. You were waiting for him to be the first one to break the ice and if he proved to be way too shy to do anything, you would come up and take the charge. 
But you didn’t have to do so. Jungkook broke the tension as soon as he heard you needed a partner to join you to your very first networking party. 
“I could be your date to that party you were talking about- I mean- if you want you know?” his mouth latched to the beer can, taking a long sip to avoid your eyes again. 
“Are you only suggesting or are asking me out?” You played with him.
Gulping the beer he opened his mouth to reply but he got tensed as soon as he saw you smiling and staring at him intently, “I am- umm- what I want to say is that-'' he gulped again “it would be nice if I could be your date. I would love to be your date.” 
“And why is that?” you were enjoying teasing him. 
He flushed at your sudden question. You could clearly see the way he was getting more and more nervous with each passing second. 
“I-I don’t know how to say it. Uh- It may feel a bit creepy since we don’t know each other for that long and I am already asking to be your date. But I- I like you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same-” 
You shut him up by capturing his lips with yours in a sudden kiss. 
It took him a moment to process your actions but when he did, he kissed you back with ten times more intensity. He slid his tongue inside your mouth, his hands found their way inside your tank top, he placed you on the top of his lap, pressing his groin to your core deliciously. A pair of tongues danced for dominance, and soon you found yourself writhing under him as he made you cum again and again. 
You come out of your flashback as you absentmindedly touch the heated part of the hair straighter. 
Wow. What a great start to a Saturday, you think to yourself. 
Gladly, we didn’t cry or have a meltdown this time. You smile to yourself, reaching for a band aid. This seems like healing. You are recovering faster than you thought you would, which makes you happy for sure. 
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Only if it was an average meeting, you wouldn’t put so much effort on your look. But you gotta meet Jimin first, who is probably already in a party mood, wearing his million dollar worth Dior outfits and Tiffany bracelets. And you don’t want to appear like a homeless kid before him. Moreover, Hoseok decided this week’s venue to be one of the fanciest bakeries of the town. Hence, it’s better if you doll up a bit.   
You look at yourself through the rear view mirror, hoping that you are not overdressed for a therapy session and not undressed to meet your super popular friend. 
Ok, you look presentable. What could possibly go wrong if you turn up to both of your meetings like this. Nothing. 
The signal turns green and you are about to start your car except the fact that it doesn’t. 
You spoke too soon. Obviously! Your car had to break down in the middle of the road like this! It is, certainly, one of the finest Saturday mornings you have ever had.  
If there’s anything positive then you are just two blocks away from Jimin’s house, hence, you won’t have to walk for long in your heels. 
It’s almost 2:45 when you complete calling insurance, handing over your car, and taking care of all the paperworks. There is no way in the world you could meet the Jungs by 3:30, so you decide to shoot Hoseok a quick text while walking towards Jimin’s house. You inform him that you are going to be late by 30 minutes or so as your car broke down earlier. 
And you receive a call from him when you are in the elevator. 
“Hey, is everything alright?” Hoseok’s smooth voice creates a weird session in your ear, which tickles down directly to your heart, warming it up much more than you would like to admit. 
“Ah, yeah. Everything is fine. The car suddenly broke down while I was on the way to a friend’s home. And I am not well-aware of the public transport here. So, it may take some time for me to figure things out and reach the bakery.” keeping your eyes on the elevator door, you speak into your device. 
“Uh- if you don’t mind… I can pick you up.” Hoseok suggests, voice a little small. 
“It’s so kind of you, Hoseok but I don’t want to trouble you.” you reply. It’s safe to say that you would love to accept his kindness but then again, you don’t wanna appear to be a desperate, broken hearted, naive little girl. 
“It won’t be a problem for me, Y/N. Just text me the address? Hm? I am sure Sua would love it too.” This time Hoseok’s voice is even more confident with a hint of authority in it. And you won’t like to turn him down. Agreeing with his proposition you cut the call, and type out the address just then the elevator dings open. 
You haven’t been to Jimin’s place more than a couple of times but it is never hard to find his door, even though each of the condo looks just the same from outside. 
Because Jimin’s door is always decorated as if it’s christmas. And today he even walked an extra mile and placed a full-size catboard cutout of himself with an edited crown on the top of his head and an animated birthday cake on one elevated hand. 
You stifle a laugh while you press on the door bell. 
And when the door opens, it’s not Jimin on the other side.
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You are one of the main reasons why Jungkook decided to show up during the afternoon, have lunch with Jimin and then quietly leave before the party starts. His privacy is certainly a concern but not more than running into you. 
But it seems like Life has different plans. 
It’s you, who decided to show up right after 30 minutes of his arrival. 
It’s you, who looks absolutely shattered by seeing him on the other side of the door.
It’s you, who is effortlessly sporting a black and red floral sundress with your slender neck and collarbones on display. 
He stares at you with blown out pupils as you do the same. And suddenly Jungkook realizes that he misses you… or more like, misses seeing your beautiful face. If that makes sense.
“Y/N..” he murmurs under breath and he knows you can’t hear him. 
You gulp and then open your mouth to say something but Jimin cuts you off. 
“Y/N! You are here!” Jimin runs towards you, shoving Jungkook out of the doorway and pulls you inside. “But wait. You are here to tell me you can’t make it to the party, don’t you?” 
Jungkook obverses you intently, zeroing his eyes on you and only you. You give Jimin one of your beautiful smiles and then hold out his gift. 
“Sorry, Jiminie, I have a session today and I am already late for it. But a very very happy birthday to you.” tiptoeing, you reach Jimin's height and place a sweet kiss on his cheek. Jimin hugs you as you hug him back.
The scene irritates Jungkook and he doesn’t understand why. He has always been the jealous type, overprotective and possessive type. He never liked it when guys, even if your common friends, become too cozy with you. But that was in the past. That was when he was yours and you were his. That was when he was still in love with you. So, there is no apparent reason behind his irritation now. 
He tries to move his eyes from you but then his eyes fall on your finger wrapped in a band-aid. Even before he knows what he is doing, he walks towards you, grabs your hand and examines the injury. 
"Did you cut yourself again?" Jungkook investigates, as if he still has any right over you. 
You snatch your hand back from his grip as if his touches burn. 
"No. It's nothing." You reply, avoiding his entire presence. 
Smiling brightly at Jimin, you murmur "I should go now. I'm running behind schedule." 
"But it's Saturday. You don't work on weekends." Jungkook's mouth runs before his mind.
"I'm changing." You finally look at him, your eyes shoot daggers at him. 
"But, Y/N-" Jimin starts to speak only to get cut off mid sentence as your phone starts ringing. 
Jungkook doesn't want to but he can't control himself from peeking at your phone. But before he could make out the caller id, you receive it, “Hello… Oh you are here. Just a minute I am coming.” 
“Jimin, I gotta go. I am sorry and happy birthday.” You rush your parting sentence, as if you don’t want to keep, whoever is here to pick you up, waiting. 
“Y/N, you didn’t even rest your butt!” Jimin protests and you laugh. 
“It’s a special client, Jimin. I don’t have a choice.” you smile apologetically to him. 
The fact that you have smiled so many times already but not a single one was directed towards him. He knows he hasn't done anything to deserve your smiles but he craves for them regardless.
He wants to ask you how are you doing, if you are eating properly or not, if you are sleeping in time or do you still stay up reading books. He wants to ask for forgiveness, to say that he is sorry, to suggest that you move on and stop hurting because of him, but even before he could say a word… you are gone. 
Jimin jogs towards the balcony and he joins just to see who this special client of yours is. 
Never once during your relationship has he seen you working during the weekends, you also never accepted any gifts or lifts from your clients, and there was no reason for doing so since most of your clients are teenagers. 
But earlier you said you were changing, is that why it’s a tall and good looking man who is here to receive you? 
You come in the picture a minute or two later and walk towards your special client. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he guides you to the passenger seat. 
Jungkook can’t make out your facial features from the 5th floor, but he knows you are most definitely smiling. And the knowledge doesn’t sit right with him; rather it sets his senses on fire and that familiar overprotectiveness, possessiveness plague his mind. 
“Oooohhh-” Jimin sings song, “a young, handsome client, who might as well be something more.” 
“No. She is still in love with me.”  Jungkook grits his jaw at the sight of the car leaving, taking away you. 
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