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lilliankoo · 4 months ago

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play you like a game, boy.

antagonist jungkook x princess reader

1/8🗡️ satin ribbon.

pairing: antagonist! tribe leader jungkook x princess reader.

trope: "he's mean to everyone but worships the ground you walk on", will absolutely do anything for you, strangers to lovers.

chapter 2 link chapter 3

synopsis: he looks like an angel but is a devil- well that's what your kingdom thinks. he is also the blessed leader of tribe "lav"; even a leaf cannot move without his permission but here he was in-front of you on his knees. while the whole tribe bows to him- he only bows to you. now, there are two paths presented to you- marry him & return his love or refuse & watch him conquer your father's kingdom. power is an evil yet a tempting apple-and now its in your hands- are you going to take a bite; taste the sweet poison or will you use it to tempt others? its an evil world with evil options.. do you think you can handle him?

warnings: tbd, different for every chapter. overall, smut, age gap (jk is 25 and y/n is 23), blood, rituals!!! (not too bad but still) threats, power dynamics, use of power, tribes, tribe rituals (i made them up :p), weapons, lovesick puppy heart eyed insanely in love jk, possessive jk, slightly controlling jk (not too bad), him spoiling his princess aka you, will add more as series progress.

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While humming one of the lullabies she used to sing to you as a child, your mother finishes tying the pink ribbon in your hair. She reaches for the brush on the dresser and runs it through your hair one last time. She gazes at you, more like your reflection in the mirror, before placing her brush-clad hand on your shoulder. As you stare at her, your brows are furrowed, and your lips are pursed.

Your mother makes eye contact and adds, "You dread me now, but trust me, you’ll thank me later." "How can you treat your own daughter like this?" you ask her, grief heavy in your voice. Yet, for some reason, you've given up fighting. You’ve made the choice not to yell or cry about your mother's heartless decision.

Being the only daughter of the King of Mir Konvo, you truly have no other choice. Yesterday, you learned that you are being "offered" to Jeon Jungkook, the head of the Forest Tribe, who is more powerful than your father's entire empire and known as the most formidable man alive.

The Lav Forest completely encloses your kingdom of Mir Konvo. While Jeon Jungkook rules the entire Lav Forest, your father reigns over Mir Konvo, which is also known as the "heart of Lav" since it's nestled right in the middle of the forest. For hundreds of years, your kingdom and Jeon’s forest were tied by a pact—an agreement that allowed your people to use the forest trail to conduct trade with other kingdoms, with no involvement from the Jeon tribe. In exchange, the Jeon tribe requested only grains and gold as payment. This arrangement has held for years, but Jeon Jungkook, the current head of the tribe, has shattered it. He now demands your hand in marriage. If you refuse, he will seal all pathways leading to Mir Konvo, seize control of your kingdom, and assassinate your father.

The entire country is aware of the Lav Forest's goddess blessing on the Jeon tribe. Centuries ago, when an enemy tribe destroyed Lav, the Devti goddess blessed the last surviving members of the Jeon tribe, declaring that no man would ever be able to defeat or oppose them. Naturally, your father signed the treaty and began the "preparations" for your marriage out of fear.

Now, back to your question: Your mother sighs and stands before you. She holds your shoulders and whispers quietly, "Listen to me, and listen very carefully. No man can resist a woman in this world. There is a reason someone as powerful as him would want to marry you. Take advantage of this, dominate him, break him, and make it impossible for him to live without you." The venom in her words is palpable. Her jaw is clenched, and her hands are digging into your shoulders. You understand exactly what she means. You pay close attention to her words, thinking about them over and over. Looking at your frightened expression, your mother asks, "Do you understand?" You take a cautious breath and nod hesitantly in agreement.

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The entire palace is adorned with white flowers. The orchestra plays a light tune—the atmosphere is serene, yet tense. Everyone displays their fake contentment, but in reality, everyone is scared—even you. Your father stands near the window, looking outside. His crown is absent, and his royal mantle no longer hangs on his shoulders. From his disheveled hair to the dark circles under his eyes, it’s clear he is distressed. You walk over and stand by his side.

"What’s on your mind, Father?" you ask.

Your father sighs deeply and looks at you. "He is an evil man. Your mother is not seeing this—"

His words are abruptly cut off by your mother's voice. "I’m doing this for the safety of the kingdom! No man can defeat him. You’ll die if you stand against him!" she shouts at your father. "You’re not seeing this through my eyes. Nothing will happen to Y/N," your mother adds, maintaining eye contact with him. You stand there, confused, watching the encounter unfold between them. Your father drops his head and nods at your mother. He doesn’t speak but looks at you.

The moment is interrupted when a soldier runs in to inform your father that it’s time to leave. Another condition Jungkook proposed was that the marriage would take place in the forest lav, with only three people allowed to attend—your father, your mother, and you.

That's how you find yourself in a carriage with your parents. Your mother is impeccably dressed, while your father dresses modestly. The commute to the Lav Forest isn’t long, and within three hours, your carriage reaches the entrance gate of Lav village. You step out, and your mother quickly helps you adjust your skirts and dresses.

There’s no man in sight to receive your family. Your father scans the area, searching for any members of the Jeon tribe, but he sees no one. The atmosphere is unnervingly quiet and serene. The leaves rustle, and the wind lightly breezes through the air.

"The carriage stays here. Come," a sudden voice calls from behind you. You turn to see a man, no older than 25, dressed in leather and furs, with a spear in his left hand and long hair reaching his back. He is incredibly handsome—you can’t deny it. He looks at you, then motions for your father to follow him. You and your parents follow him into the village. The path is smooth and clear, as if it were purposefully prepared for your comfort.

After ten minutes of walking, huts and houses begin to appear. You can see people peeking at your family through their windows—some whispering, others cryptically smiling in your direction. In the distance, you see a platform surrounded by a crowd. The stage-like platform is only a few feet higher than the ground and has two chairs at its center. Some people stand on it, engaged in serious conversations, while others laugh.

You and your parents stand a few feet away, waiting for instructions. You intertwine your hand with your father’s and squeeze it.

Suddenly, the voices of people laughing and talking around you halt- everyone around you kneels, including your parents. Thats when you see the leader, your future husband, jungkook walking towards you. Out of instinct and fear, you bend your knees to bow as well. But then, someone grabs both your shoulders, forcing you to stand upright. You look up in confusion and meet his eyes. The anger is gone, replaced by something softer—love and affection. Without warning, Jungkook drops to his knees in front of you and bows. The entire village was bowing to him while he remains on his knees for you.

your just about to speak when Jungkook speaks up: "The first time I saw you, I was entranced. Seeing you made me lose sleep, and I chanted your name like a prayer. You are educated, beautiful, and I knew your father would never marry you to someone like me, i did not have any other choice, don’t hate me for this, I’m just a man in love."

Your breath hitches because you don’t know what to do. Having a powerful man like Jungkook on his knees in front of you, confessing his love, is overwhelming. Your hands shake as you reach for his shoulders, gently guiding him to his feet. Jungkook rises to his full height, towering over you.

He cradles your jaw affectionately in both hands and kisses your forehead. You’re confused and scared—confused because he isn’t as terrifying as he’s made out to be, and scared because he’s too close. You avoid his gaze and look around. Everyone is still kneeling, and you feel uncomfortable. You glance at him, then at the others still bowing. Surprisingly, he understands.

"Everyone, stand up!" he commands, and the crowd quickly rises to their feet.

He turns to you and your parents, smiling. "Shall we begin the rituals?"

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NEXT: chapter 2

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💌: yalll haiiii, yes its me, yes i deleted this fic previously, yes im posting it again. yes.

#jungkook fic #jungkook recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #yandere jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine

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jigglyjeon · 4 days ago

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ghostface -> jjk (smau)

summary: just a little bit of domestic with a little bit of i want my bf to fulfil my sick fantasies trope x

pairing: bf!jk x gf!reader

rating: R18+ MATURE, minors please do not interact

genre: established relationship, social media au

warnings/tags: mature themes, sexual references, this couple r just horny and flirting basically loll, jus a lil smau at the end of the daeee

notes: idk for funsies. i think smau's sm funnn 🥺 i jus wanted to feed myself some cheeky shit between fics okay! AYE also i noticed i spelt robert eggers wrong so can we just ignore that k thanks x

⋆ ࣪. masterlist ˖ ࣪⭑

#jungkook smut #jungkook smau #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fan fiction #jigglyjeon #jungkook social media au

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luviestarz · 7 months ago

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jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 2

𖤐 Champagne Confetti ⋆ j.jk - @busanboykoo (“you won't regret me, champagne confetti” or maybe just jungkook wants you to tell him what you want him to do to you.)

𖤐 oh how you love longhair!jungkook . . . - @twilghtkoo

𖤐 Your boyfriend looks a little too good in his police uniform. - @badbtssmut

𖤐 e s p r e s s o - @joonberriess (boxer!jk)

𖤐 trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m) - @euphorajeon (a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.)

𖤐 Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au - @ctrlsht (You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you’re with him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much.)

𖤐 WELCOME TO THE HEARTBREAK SHOW ── jungkook - @numinousher (you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?)

𖤐 It’s hard to stop but once it starts, it starts - @byuljoonie

𖤐 concrete king. (m) jjk - @bratkook (when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could ever say no to him)

𖤐 baecation - @1kook (“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.)

𖤐 test your morality (jungkook) - @trivia-yandere (jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him.)

𖤐 Needy | jjk oneshot - @jkslipppiercing (your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?)

𖤐 ESCAPISM | JJK - @wnderkoo (୨୧ lipstick smudged like modern art..)

𖤐 Vérités Cachées (JJK) - @bangtanficsforyou (You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.)

𖤐 lonely hearts club (m) - @dovechim (jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder... is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club?)

𖤐 By Its Cover (M) - @gimmesumsuga (The one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.)

𖤐 The Deepest Marks of Essence - @lleldey (When you found yourself circled by a tribe, you never thought it would lead you to tap into your deepest wants and desires. You are the oldest child, the example of how one should act at all costs, but if you ever manage to escape this maze and if your story ever becomes told, you’ll never be looked at the same. But it’s hard to regret it when your nights are spent with gentle caresses and starry midnight skies. You got everything you secretly longed for, but at what cost?)

𖤐 every hour, every minute. (m) - @aajjks (jungkook can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.)

𖤐 ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw) - @frmisnow (what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!)

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btsficfinds · 1 day ago

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there was a Jungkook x reader fix where they r good friends, but reader like jk. One day she find out she's going to die in 3 months so she changes her life confesses to jk. He also finds the doctor's note and decided to help his friend by accepting confession or maybe she didn't confess but he read her diary or smt and then reader finds the diagnosis was wrong and she's very happy but ig jk doesn't know that

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fics-lovebot · 6 days ago

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jungkook fic recs - pt. 3

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

pls reblog if you like any of my recs and don´t forget to support authors!❤️

come sit on my lap - ( @euphoricfilter ) pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEE :´)

he has a lot of cum - ( @euphoricfilter ) bf!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man

riding jungkook´s nose - ( @euphoricfilter ) we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease

fucking in the gym - ( @euphoricfilter ) this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors

wicked - ( @noteguk ) smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading

strings attached (to my heart) - ( @jungkoode ) smut, crack, fluff, IT HAS IT ALLL, spider man au, college au, spider-man!jk x journalist!reader. READ THE TAGS BC ITS GOOD AF, bc wdym you combined sub-loser-desperate jk who also has a noona kink wITH a superhero au??? it´s like you wrote it for me,, (also, this deserves many many more notes imo)

think i need someone older - ( @redcherrykook ) smut, whipped rich older bf!jk (PERIOD!!) x younger!reader. JESUS FUCKING CHRISTTTTTTT!!! no more words needed, this one´s pulled right out of my maladaptive daydreaming folder

fade into you - ( @nmjoo-n ) SMUT, fluff, fwb to lovers au. barista!jk, possessive obsessive toxic lovesick!jk (LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO). this is a whole 2022 masterpiece, they way this is written, and the way jungkook is borderline PSYCOTICH (or in love ig) for her is so hotttttttt. deff one of my favs

this is how you fal in love - ( @jeonqkooks ) fluff, smut, angst if you squint. rockstar!jk au, est relationship. this is beautiful, a 2022 gem. love love love how lengthy and detailed this is

frost impressions - ( @fortunexkookie ) soccer coach!jk, teacher!reader, gamer au, work au, idiots to lovers, one sided pining at first, it´s a longggg one. another 2020 masterpiece, one of my favorite fics out there, he´s so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression. so so so entertaining and fun to read, jk is silly af lmao, can´t stop putting his foot in his mouth, theres a bunch of cute second hand embarrasment situations

Over The Odds | The Confession - ( @jungk0oksthighs ) ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series

wrong time - ( @spideyjimin ) smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life

don´t blame me - ( @ctrlsht ) sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc

failed quickie - ( @vminizzle ) cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but shit happens, he likes his hair pulled!!1!

someone older - ( @bonny-kookoo ) smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again

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gngkook · 14 hours ago

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jungkook fanfic reccs (pt. 3)

i was supposed to go into work today but i didn’t because i wanted to watch the real madrid game today (hala madrid!!!) poor excuse i know but while i was waiting i thought i may as well post pt. 3 today 😁 please give love to all the authors for being vv talented and writing such amazing stories!!

oneshots/twoshots

loving you is red by @imsadstuff (fluff, angst, slice of life, f1 au)

sketch by @moonscriptsx (fluff, smut, artist!jk, soulmate au)

golden cufflinks by @colormepurplex2 (fluff, smut, angst, werewolf au, a/b/o au, best friend’s fiancé, strangers to lovers)

all over again by @jungkookstatts (fluff, smut, dad!jk, ceo!jk, established relationship, married couple au, parents au)

it’s not living (if it’s not with you) + pt 2 by @angellesword (angst, fluff, implied smut, policelieutenant!jk, lawyer!reader, enemies to lovers, co-parenting au)

nine to five, five to nine by @thvlouvre (angst, smut, sidechick!reader, dancer!reader, boxer!jk, infidelity au)

the language of flowers by @justimajin (heavy angst, implied smut, hanahaki au)

miss taken by @junghelioseok (fluff, smut, single parent au, teacher au, enemies to lovers)

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash (fluff, smut, punk!jk, soundboy!jk)

million dollar darling by @kooktrash (fluff, smut, rich!jk, rich!reader, model!reader, old money au, enemies to lovers)

series

claws of carnality by @jjungkooksthighs (fluff, smut, angst, alpha!jk, omega!reader, werewolf au, a/b/o au) - ongoing

clash by @matchagator (fluff, smut, mild angst, neighbors au, slice of life, enemies to lovers) - completed

at your service by @untaemedqueen (fluff, smut, angst, escort!jk, ceo!reader, strangers to lovers, unexpected pregnancy) - completed *the rest of the chapters are on the author’s patreon*

tease by @adonis-koo (fluff, smut, angst, stripper!jk, stripper!reader, slice of life) - completed

cradle robbers by @wintrbears (fluff, smut, mild angst, pregnancy au, childhood friends to fwb to lovers, slow burn) - ongoing

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gukcnt · 7 days ago

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SCARS OF SURVIVAL ⭒ TEASER

in a brutal zombie apocalypse, you are hardened by trauma, the scars of your past and you clash into jungkook, an ex-military loner who hides his pain behind a stone heart. Forced together to survive, your frequent fights and chemistry spark a dangerous connection. In the middle of battles and raw emotion, will their forbidden love survive in this broken world or will it lead to their ultimate downfall?

pairing — dom!jungkook x sub!femreader

genre — zombie apocalypse au, dystopian world, survival, ex-military officer!jungkook, confident badass!reader, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, pining, slowburn, one sided love, emotional unavailability, thriller, action and adventure, crime, smut, angst, fluff

warnings — 18+, several explicit sex scenes, mature themes, dark content, graphic violence, detailed gore scenes (zombie attacks, blood), physical and emotional abuse, PTSD, character death (major and minor), betrayal and deception, grief, abandonment, details of injury and pain, smoking and drinking, mental health themes, each chapter contains their individual warnings (reader discretion is advised due to the intense, dark and potentially triggering content)

taglist — [open]

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

The world was decaying, filled with the smell of rot and moans of the undead.

You sprint through the empty road, heart pounding as three zombies lurch closer and closer, their hands grabbing at the air.

As if they were manifesting hold on you.

Your gun clicks uselessly—out of bullets, a bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

That's it then.

You’ve faced near death experiences enough, part of you doesn’t care if it claims you now, the trauma and your scarred life have long since numbed you to fear.

You were exhausted.

Tired of always running, always surviving.

It never seems to end.

Sometimes you just wish that you just stopped running and let the beasts get to you so you could finally escape this agony, because at the end you realize you have no reason.

No reason to survive.

So you stop running.

Just then a shadow moves, fast enough to knock the breath out of your chest.

jungkook.

His blade comes out, slicing through the zombies with brutality and expert practice, as one by one each of the zombies becomes a gurgling mess of blood on the floor.

One zombie crumple, then another until the last one's head rolls across the pavement.

Blood drips from his knife, some splatter on his face, giving him that menacing look as he turns to you, chest heavy, dark eyes filling with something unreadable.

You don’t flinch under his glare.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

You snap, voice shaky with the thought that you were thinking of giving up and he just came out of nowhere like he knew the fear etched deep in your bones.

“I don’t need you or anyone else playing hero. I was fine, dammit!”

“Fine?” he laughs, no humor in it.

He steps closer, towering over you with his huge muscular frame, overpowering your own confident posture.

His anger palpable.

“You were about to get torn apart by them and you’re fine? stop acting so fucking careless before it gets you killed.”

“Good.” you hissed.

Shoving past him, your shoulder slamming into his.

“Maybe I don’t care. I don’t need you watching over me, jungkook.”

You were about to walk away when his hand shot out, gripping your wrist, not hard enough to hurt but enough to stop you instantly.

His touch burned.

A dangerous jolt that made your pulse flutter despite you trying to ignore it.

“You’re lying.”

He says lowly, voice gravel.

“You’re so busy running from your past you don’t even see what’s in front of you.” he says

His gaze hardening, but there's a flicker of hurt beneath it, gone before you can be sure.

As if it were barely there.

“You think I’m out here risking myself for your stubborn ass because I want to? next time you’re out of bullets, I won’t always be there to stick around.”

You pull your wrist away from his grip, heart racing. The space between you felt overwhelming, too hot.

He’s too close.

His breath warm and it stirs something dangerous in you—something you’ve buried long ago.

You clench your fists, hating the way he makes you react, makes you angry, especially the way his words get under your skin.

That flicker of something you feel everytime in his presence.

As you start walking away, the distance growing between you two, another groan from a zombie can be heard, a reminder of the war you’re both fighting.

To survive

But this moment felt like a different kind of battle.

Your feet stop as you hear jungkook’s final words, heavy with warning.

Something deep.

“You can’t outrun everything, not death, not yourself.. one day you’ll stop fighting what’s actually worth saving.”

────

a/n: release date (TBA)

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jeonette · 4 days ago

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my favourite chapter - jjk

Jungkook and Y/n were each other’s first everything. But the world asked them to choose between love and growth. They didn't want to stop loving each other, but then again, isn't loving someone, letting them go?

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : ride or die love trope. Bittersweet.

The glow from the TV cast flickers across the apartment walls, soft and lazy, the volume a low hum beneath the quiet. A forgotten movie played — something romantic and slow, the kind of film Y/N always said she liked but never finished watching.

She was curled beneath Jungkook’s arm, her head tucked into the slope of his shoulder, one leg draped across his lap. She wore his hoodie, sleeves long enough to swallow her hands, and she smelled like laundry and jasmine and sleep.

Jungkook didn’t move much, but his thumb kept tracing the same circle against her thigh, over and over again.

His eyes were half on the screen, half on her — like he couldn’t decide which was more comforting.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled, voice thick with drowsiness.

He smirked. “I know. That’s why you’re always stealing my hoodies.”

“And your socks. And your pillows.”

“You’re literally turning into me.”

Y/N tilted her head up, smiling sleepily. “That’s the goal.”

Jungkook leaned in and kissed her nose — slow, soft, lingering. “If we’re both you, we’ll never argue again.”

She laughed — that sound he loved so much it hurt sometimes. But the moment passed too fast, and the quiet settled again.

Jungkook looked at his phone. A few unread messages from the group chat. A reminder for tomorrow’s shoot. A text from his manager about a last-minute meeting in the morning.

He clicked the screen off. Turned his face back toward her.

“Sorry I couldn’t call last night,” he said gently. “I didn’t finish filming until three.”

She shrugged, but the movement was too casual. “It’s okay. I figured you were busy.”

That was always the word. Busy.

She meant it — she understood. But the way her voice softened around it made his chest ache.

“I missed you,” he said anyway.

“I know.” Her fingers slipped under his shirt, just to feel his skin. “I missed you too.”

They sat like that for a while — quiet, close. Not speaking, but not disconnected. It was the kind of silence built between people who knew each other too well to need words.

But even then, there were small fractures.

She was leaving in two days to visit her parents. He had rehearsals every night that week. They hadn’t shared breakfast in almost two weeks. And the last time he’d asked how school was going, she’d said, “It’s fine,” then changed the subject.

Neither of them mentioned any of it now.

Instead, he shifted so he could cradle her more fully in his lap, hands on her back beneath the hoodie, his lips brushing her forehead.

“Can I ask you something?” he said quietly.

She nodded against his chest.

“If I weren’t… this,” he murmured, “If I weren’t always traveling or gone or… just too much sometimes—do you think it’d be easier?”

Y/N blinked up at him, frowning.

“Easier?” she echoed. “Maybe. But I didn’t fall in love with easy, Jungkook.”

He looked at her for a long moment. And then — slowly, like she was glass — he kissed her. Deep, aching, reverent.

Her hands curled into his shirt. She kissed him back with the same quiet desperation — like they were both afraid to let the moment slip.

And for a while, neither of them spoke.

Hobi’s apartment smelled like instant ramen, candle wax, and coffee — chaotic, lived-in, and somehow always comforting.

Jimin had his feet kicked up on the coffee table, laptop balanced on his thighs as he clicked furiously through their shared presentation slides. Hobi was cross-legged on the floor, a highlighter clenched between his teeth as he sifted through printouts like he was on a mission.

Y/N sat at the dining table, surrounded by open notebooks, empty mugs, and the crumbled remains of snacks they had no intention of cleaning up until absolutely necessary.

“This slide looks like it was made by a sleep-deprived pigeon,” Jimin muttered, squinting at the screen.

“That’s because you made it,” Hobi said flatly.

“Okay, rude—”

“I’m just saying, if we crash and burn during this presentation, I’m blaming you and your aesthetic choices.”

Y/N snorted, eyes still fixed on her own laptop. “Guys, it’s literally a group project. If we crash and burn, we all go down together.”

“I’m not going down for him,” Hobi said dramatically, pointing at Jimin with the highlighter like it was a dagger.

“Excuse me,” Jimin said, affronted. “I bring 'charm' to this team.”

“You bring barely cited sources and too many transitions.”

Their bickering continued, but it was all light — the kind of banter only born from years of friendship and caffeine-fueled all-nighters. Y/N just smiled and tuned them out as she refreshed her email out of habit.

It was meant to be mindless.

A reflex.

But then her screen blinked.

Subject: Full-Time London Scholarship Confirmation — International Academic Award Recipient

Y/N blinked. Once. Twice.

Her heart did a weird little flip.

“…Y/N?”

Jimin’s voice barely cut through the sudden fog in her head.

She stared at the subject line again, then opened the email.

Congratulations. You’ve been awarded a full academic scholarship to continue your graduate studies in London. Program starts this September. Full relocation support included. We hope to see you soon.

Her stomach dropped — not in panic, but in shock. Like the ground had suddenly tilted beneath her chair.

“Y/N?” Hobi leaned over from the floor, frowning. “You good?”

She finally looked up. “Holy shit.” She managed to choke out.

Jimin and Hobi both give each other a look, before approaching her to see what she was staring at.

She swallowed and turned the screen toward them.

The silence that followed was almost reverent.

Hobi’s eyes widened. “Whoa, wait is this? Oh my god."”

“Holy shit,” Jimin breathed. “This is huge.”

“I didn’t even think I’d get it,” she whispered. Her voice sounded far away.

"I'm so happy for you dude, oh my god this is actually insane." Jimin breathes out, instantly pulling her in a side hug, eyes still reading the screen in front of them.

"Yeah, congratulations y/n." Hobi smiled gently, also giving her a side hug.

They both knew that even though this confirmation was highly anticipated, she had always said that she never knew if she was actually going to be able to go.

It was her dream, but this was her home.

“How long is the program?” Hobi asked gently.

Y/N scanned the message again. “Two years. With possible job placement after.”

“Damn.” Jimin sat back, whistling. “That’s not just school. That’s, like… life-changing.”

“London, though…” Hobi glanced at her carefully. “That’s far.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

The words sat heavy in the room. She wasn’t sure why.

Maybe because the moment she read that email, one thought had carved itself deep into the back of her mind — unspoken but immediate.

All she could think about is,

What about Jungkook?

He wasn’t just a boyfriend. He was her person. But he was also… busy. Always moving. Always working. And she had her own future now, too — one that suddenly had a very real, very wide door standing open in front of it.

“You okay?” Jimin asked.

She gave him a small, uncertain smile.

“I don’t know yet.”

"Let it rest, you'll figure it out."

The night was quiet, the city wrapped in that late-hour hush where even the neon felt softer.

Y/N stepped into the building with her hood up, the weight of two takeout bags warming her hands. She waved at a staff member she vaguely recognized, offering a polite smile as she slipped past cables, lights, and faint echoes of music still hanging in the air.

Jungkook was still filming, as expected — in the corner of the studio under soft lighting, looking unfairly beautiful even in exhaustion. His hair was damp from sweat, shirt clinging to his back, silver chain glinting beneath the lights.

She didn’t say anything, just watched for a few seconds. He moved like he always did — with focus, precision, intensity. The kind of devotion he never quite knew how to switch off.

Her heart tugged.

Even after everything — even with the email still burning in her inbox — he was still her person.

“Y/N?” one of the stylists spotted her. “He’s almost done. You can wait in the corner.”

She smiled. “I brought food. Thought I’d take him home after.”

“Thank god. He hasn’t eaten since, like, five.”

Y/N quietly set the food down on a side table and took a seat in the shadows, just watching him work.

Ten minutes later, the director called, “Cut!” and Jungkook rolled his shoulders out with a groan, flexing the tension from his arms.

When he spotted her, his whole expression changed.

His tired eyes lit up.

“Hey, baby" His voice came out rough, surprised, almost like he didn’t believe she was real.

Y/N stood and smiled. “I figured you’d forget to eat.”

He didn’t reply at first. Just walked over and pulled her into a hug that lasted a little too long, arms tight around her waist like he needed to hold onto something solid.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I saw you yesterday,” she whispered, grinning.

“Not the point.” He placed light kisses on her face, causing her to giggle.

They sat together on the little couch tucked beside the set, sharing bites of rice and grilled meat from the containers. His legs brushed against hers. Every now and then, she’d steal a piece of meat off his chopsticks and he’d fake-annoyedly swat at her hand, even though he smiled every time.

It was warm. Familiar. Normal.

But even now, it was there — the unspoken thing between them.

He kept checking his phone. She kept zoning out. Both of them noticed, but said nothing.

“Can you go home after this?” she asked, curling into his side.

Jungkook looked at the time. “Yeah. Should be done soon.”

She nodded, fingers fiddling with the drawstring of his hoodie.

They stayed like that for a while — quiet, gentle, almost pretending the real world didn’t exist.

Until the studio door opened.

“Jungkook,” his manager called, walking over quickly. “Sorry — we need you for a few more shot. Lighting wasn’t right in scene four, eight and nine, and the director wants a backup take.”

Jungkook blinked. “Right now?”

“Yeah, sorry. We know its pretty late, but you're already behind on schedule. This shoot with YSL needs to finish by today.”

“Yeah, i'll be out in a few.” He replies. The man walking away.

Y/N tried to keep her face neutral. She really did.

But something flickered. A twitch of the mouth. The shift of her eyes.

And then, under her breath — barely audible — she murmured:

"Of course, again."

It was soft.

But he heard it.

Jungkook froze, then slowly turned to face her.

“What?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Did you just say ‘of course’?”

“I didn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

She sat up straighter. “Jungkook. It’s fine. Just go finish your shot.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Say what you meant.”

And just like that, the air tightened.

Y/N looked away. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m just… tired.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, standing up. “No, this is about more than tonight. You’ve been distant for weeks.”

“I haven’t—”

“You have.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Y/N, I’m doing my best. I’m showing up when I can. I thought—”

“I know you’re doing your best,” she cut in, voice rising. “I’m not blaming you, Jungkook. But this is what it always is. Plans pushed back. Dinners rescheduled. One more shoot. One more meeting.”

He went quiet.

Y/N stood slowly, wrapping her arms around herself. Her voice cracked a little when she spoke again.

“I didn’t come tonight to fight. I just wanted to be with you. Like we used to be.”

Jungkook looked at her for a long, silent moment. Then:

“So what? You’re giving up?”

The words hit like a slap.

And maybe he didn’t mean it that way. But it landed hard, anyway.

Y/N's chest tightened.

“No,” she said softly. “But I think… I think I have to tell you something.”

He swallowed. “What?”

She hesitated. Just for a second.

Then — all in one breath:

“I got offered a full scholarship. For grad school. In London. Starting this September.”

Jungkook’s face blanked.

“What?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything yet,” she whispered, eyes wide, vulnerable. “I just found out. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know when. I didn’t want to add to your stress or make you feel like I was—”

“You’re moving to London?”

His voice wasn’t angry. Just hollow.

She nodded once.

“I don’t know if I’ll go. I haven’t decided. I just… I needed time to think.”

He sat down again, slowly, like the floor beneath him had vanished.

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

“I was, Jungkook. I just…” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t want this moment to feel like this.”

He said nothing.

The silence stretched.

And then, softer than anything that came before it:

“Do you want to go?”

Y/N stared at him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s everything I’ve worked for. But you’re— You’re…”

"B-ut, you can't just drop a bomb on me like this. What- what is even going to happen?" He stutters.

Barely tearing, but only because he was holding it in.

He met her eyes, and for once, they didn’t have answers for each other. Just pain.

It had rained earlier.

Now, the apartment smelled like wet pavement, jasmine tea, and the faint trace of his cologne clinging to the hoodie draped over the chair.

Y/N was seated on the floor, back against the edge of the couch, papers spread around her like a broken halo — scholarship documents, flight options, apartment listings in London she wasn’t even sure she wanted to look at yet.

Jungkook watched her from the doorway of the kitchen, silent, holding a half-full mug he hadn’t touched in twenty minutes.

She didn’t look up, but she knew he was there. She could feel it — the weight of him in the room, the tension like static in the air.

He finally broke the silence.

“What if I went with you?”

She froze.

Very slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“What?”

He stepped forward, setting the mug on the table with more force than necessary. “To London. For two years. What if I just… went with you?”

Her breath caught.

“Jungkook…”

“I’ve been thinking about it. Really thinking,” he said, crouching in front of her. His eyes were shining, but his voice was steady — too steady. Like he was holding something back. “I could take time off. Pull back from the industry. Just for a while. Just to be with you.”

Her hands gripped the edge of the paper in her lap. “You’re serious?”

“I’m dead serious,” he said, eyes never leaving hers. “Y/N, I don’t want to be without you. Not for two years. Not for one. If it means giving this a real shot — just us — then I’ll do it.”

Her eyes filled, throat burning. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is your dream,” she whispered. “You’ve wanted this since before I even knew you. You fought so hard to get here. You’re selling out shows, your name’s everywhere, your music’s finally reaching the world—”

“And none of it means anything without you.” His voice cracked.

Y/N shook her head. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“No, Jungkook.” She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. “You love music. You love being on that stage. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“I do,” he whispered. “But I love you more.”

"You know this is hard for me too. I can't imagine being without you. Four years of our relationship is not something I want to let go of kook, you know that."

Silence.

Heavy. Sharp.

The kind of silence that shakes foundations.

Y/N pulled her hand away and stood, pacing now, her voice trembling. “But kook, you can’t give everything up for me.”

“I’m not giving it up,” he argued, rising too. “Just putting it on hold.”

“And what happens after two years? What if I choose to stay in London? You and your music might be forgotten. Two years is no joke jungkook. Do you really want that?”

“I want you.”

“And I want you! So much.” she snapped, turning on him. Her eyes were glassy now, her fists clenched at her sides. “But not like this. Not if it means you resenting me every time someone asks why you disappeared. Not if it means you wake up one day and wonder what the hell you gave everything up for.”

“I’d never resent you.”

“You say that now.” Her voice was quiet. “But one day… maybe not.”

He stepped forward, close enough to touch, but didn’t.

"If i cant be apart of your life, I'm going to make sure you don't give up yours before I leave."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and this time he reached up, wiping them away with the gentlest touch.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much it makes everything else feel small.”

“I know,” she choked. “But that’s why I can’t let you come with me.”

His hand dropped slowly.

And then they stood there, in the middle of a quiet apartment that had seen so much laughter, so many kisses, so many whispered promises.

All of it now unraveling.

“Y/N…” he said, barely able to get the word out. “Are we really going to do this?”

She nodded.

“We have to, baby."

He sat down on the edge of the couch like someone had punched the air out of him.

And she stood there, papers rustling at her feet, trying not to collapse.

“I thought love was supposed to be enough,” he said after a moment.

“It is,” she whispered. “But so is purpose. So is growth. So is you, Jungkook.”

He looked up.

“You’re everything to me,” she said. “But whatever we both worked hard for, is as well."

The quiet that followed was thick with everything they hadn’t said — all the words they could’ve used to convince each other, all the little ways they’d both tried to delay the inevitable.

But love wasn’t always about holding on.

Sometimes, it was about knowing when to let go.

The silence that followed their fight wasn’t heavy.

It was soft. Tired. Like an exhale after holding your breath too long.

Y/N sat down slowly beside Jungkook, their knees touching. Neither of them said anything for a while. Just breathing in sync. Letting the dust settle.

Jungkook turned his head to look at her — really look.

She was still teary-eyed, but her face was calm now. Braver than he felt.

“You really are going,” he murmured.

Y/N nodded once. “I have to, and you have to continue with music. You have to."

He looked down at his hands.

“But we still have four months,” she said quietly.

Jungkook’s eyes flicked up, sharp. Hopeful.

“I don’t want to spend those four months grieving something we haven’t lost yet,” she whispered. “I don’t want to spend them fighting, or avoiding each other, or pretending this doesn’t hurt.”

Her fingers reached for his — tentative, then firm. “I want to love you. Every day. As much as I can, while I still can.”

He stared at her like she’d just pulled him out of a storm.

“Let’s make the time count,” she said, voice steady now. “Let’s do everything. Late night walks. Falling asleep on the couch. Going out to eat, even when we're tired. Holding hands under the table. Kissing in elevators. Let’s not waste a second.”

Jungkook blinked hard.

Then leaned forward and kissed her — slowly, like he was anchoring himself to the moment. Her hand curled behind his neck. He tasted like tears and something aching and sweet.

When they pulled back, foreheads resting together, she said it again:

“I love you.”

He smiled through the ache in his chest.

“I love you more.”

Y/N laughed, even though it trembled. “That’s not possible.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to find out.”

And they did.

In the days that followed, their apartment came alive again. Music at breakfast. Polaroids taped to the fridge. Shoes by the door tangled together.

They didn’t talk about London much. They didn’t talk about the goodbye.

But they held each other closer. And kissed each other a little longer.

The four months passed in a blur of laughter, small moments, and quiet intimacy.

In between work and late-night study sessions, between Jungkook’s rehearsals and Y/N’s growing list of things to pack, they carved out a world just for them.

They slow danced in the living room with no music, the hum of the city their only soundtrack.

They burned toast trying to make breakfast together, and laughed until they cried.

He left sticky notes on her mirror every morning: “You’re beautiful.” “I’m proud of you.” “Don’t forget your charger.”

She made playlists for every mood and sent them to him mid-shoot: “For when you miss me.”

They slept wrapped around each other like the world might take one away in the middle of the night.

Some nights, they cried quietly after making love, tangled in each other, knowing that time was slipping through their fingers.

But they also lived loudly — movie nights with friends, a weekend trip to the coast, getting caught in the rain and laughing as they ran barefoot through the streets.

They didn't talk about London anymore.

They just loved.

Completely.

One week before her flight.

The night was cool and quiet, the sky inked in navy and stars.

Jungkook parked the car at the edge of the park and turned to her with a small smile. “One last secret date?”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget?” he said, reaching to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “This is where you ruined me forever.”

She laughed softly, heart aching already. “You kissed me first.”

“And you kissed me back like you meant it.”

They walked slowly, hand in hand, through the familiar gravel paths, the trees casting soft shadows under the moonlight. The same bench was still there — the one they sat on that first night, knees brushing, too shy to speak for a while.

They sat down again, this time leaning into each other without hesitation.

“It feels smaller,” Y/N murmured.

“You just got taller.”

“I did not.”

“You did. Your confidence did, at least.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “That first night, I was terrified.”

“Same.” He reached for her hand. “I thought I was going to say something stupid and scare you off.”

“You did say something stupid.”

He gasped. “What?!”

“You told me you were going to marry me.”

He blinked, then laughed under his breath. “I was bold back then.”

“You were right back then,” she whispered.

The quiet held them again — soft and deep and sacred.

“I still would,” he murmured, voice cracking. “If things were different. I’d marry you in a second.”

Y/N turned to him, eyes shining. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll say yes.”

He looked at her, really looked — and for a second, time folded. It was them again. That first night. That first kiss. All the maybes, all the ifs, all the could-have-beens.

“I wish I could freeze this,” he whispered. “Right now. Just this.”

Y/N nodded, tears welling. “I’ll remember it. I promise. Every time I close my eyes.”

He pulled her close, lips brushing hers — a kiss so slow, so aching, it felt like a goodbye even though they didn’t say the word.

And then, she whispered:

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

So they did. Until the stars faded. Until their breaths turned to mist. Until they were the only two people in the world.

Because this was their place.

Where it began. Where they fell. And now, where they would hold on one last time.

The airport was quieter than usual.

A soft hum of wheels dragging across tiles. Muffled voices behind glass walls. An endless stream of departures and goodbyes — like the air itself was made of endings.

Y/N stood at the gate entrance with Jungkook’s hoodie draped over her shoulders, passport clutched in one hand, the other buried in his.

Neither had said much since arriving. The drive had been quiet — not heavy, just full. Every glance, every touch said more than words could.

Now, with the final call approaching, they stood frozen in the last minutes of their forever.

Jungkook looked at her like he was trying to memorize every detail — the curve of her lips, the light in her eyes, the scar near her brow he always kissed without thinking.

“Four months felt too short,” he said, voice rough.

“I know,” she whispered.

“You were right,” he continued, forcing a small smile. “We shouldn’t have wasted a second.”

“And we didn’t.”

He pulled her into his arms then — not carefully, not cautiously. Like he couldn’t hold her close enough.

Her face buried in his shoulder, his scent already imprinting itself into memory.

“I’m going to miss this,” she whispered. “Miss you.”

His breath hitched, lips pressing into her hair. “Don’t say it like it’s the end.”

“It’s not,” she said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “It’s just... the in-between.”

Jungkook cupped her face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away a tear before it could fall.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You’re going to change the world, Y/N.”

"And so are you, your music. It's going to save people. People that weren't as lucky as me to have a you in their life to save it for them."

His smile was soft, gentle, aching. He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"We'll make each other proud, it's you and me against the world remember?" He recited a soft inside joke you made on your first date back when you were 16.

She laughed softly through her tears. “You always say the right thing.”

“That’s because it's you.”

Her eyes closed. Her heart cracked and bloomed at once.

Then, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed.

It was final.

A kiss made of every morning spent tangled in sheets. Every late-night whisper. Every shared breath and soft laugh and quiet, wordless promise.

He kissed her like she was the only thing that had ever made sense.

And when they parted, their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered.

She shook her head, gently.

“Don’t wait,” she said. “Live. Be everything you were meant to be. And if life brings us back together…”

“Then I’ll fall in love with you all over again,” he finished.

Another final call echoed across the terminal.

This time, she nodded.

Time was up.

She took a shaky step back, fingers slipping from his like threads unraveling.

“I love you,” she said, voice breaking.

“I love you more.”

Her last smile was soft — a quiet kind of brave.

Then she turned and walked toward the gate.

Jungkook didn’t move. But called out to her one last time.

"Love?"

She turned.

Jungkook’s voice was soft — steady, but full of everything he was holding back. “You still owe me that rematch from the claw machine.”

Despite the tears in her eyes, she smiled, and looked down at the keychain jungkook won for her, because she kept on losing.

“Next time, i'm winning that game.”

They both paused — one last breath shared between them.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Her smile faltered, but she nodded. “I will be. Because we were real.”

One month later London, 9:43 PM

Y/N dropped her bag by the door and kicked off her shoes, exhaustion pooling in her bones. Her day had stretched longer than it should have — lectures, meetings, cold rain. She still had laundry to fold, assignments to finish, dishes to wash.

But the apartment was hers. The silence felt new, unfamiliar, but safe.

She microwaved leftover curry, tossed on Jungkook’s hoodie — the one he insisted she keep — and sank onto the couch, remote in hand.

She didn’t mean to land on the music channel.

But fate had a habit of timing things perfectly.

The crowd was roaring on screen. Bright lights swept across thousands of fans. A spotlight cut through the dark — and there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing at the edge of the stage in black, silver glinting on his fingers, hair tousled, chest rising and falling with the weight of everything unsaid.

Y/N froze.

She hadn’t seen him since the airport.

She hadn’t let herself watch anything. Not until now.

He stepped up to the mic, one hand gripping it gently, the other resting over his heart.

“Hey everyone, i know you came for the songs,” he said with a soft smile. “But can I talk about something for a second?”

The crowd cheered.

His smile faltered, just slightly — eyes shining beneath the lights.

“There’s someone I wish was here tonight.”

A hush fell.

“She’s the reason I’m standing here. The reason I didn’t give up. A lot of you don’t know this, but I almost took a break from music earlier this year. Almost walked away.”

Y/N sat forward slowly, food forgotten.

“But she wouldn’t let me. She said I was meant for this. Even though it meant letting go.” He paused. Swallowed. “She chose my dream… over our future. And I think that’s the kind of love that doesn’t disappear. That kind of love stays with you forever.”

The camera caught his eyes — glassy, open, full of something so real.

“So this song… is for her.” He looked up. “If you’re watching… I hope London’s treating you well.”

Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth.

He knew.

The first notes of the song began.

A slow, aching piano. Soft strings rising in the background. And then his voice — low, gentle, like a prayer.

“We laugh together, we cry together. These simple feelings were everything I had When will it be? If I see you again, I will look into your eyes And say, "I missed you".

Y/N’s tears spilled silently.

Not because it hurt.

But because it meant something.

She watched him sing — the boy she loved, the man he was becoming — pouring everything into every lyric. Not for the world. Not for the cameras.

For her.

And in that small apartment, miles away from him, she whispered through a smile,

“I love you too.”

She didn’t know when they’d meet again. Or if they ever would. But she would still love him, no matter what.

7 years later A quiet coffee shop, Busan

“You still drink your coffee black?” Jimin squinted, wrinkling his nose as he slid into the booth across from Y/N.

“I’ve evolved,” she replied with a grin. “Now I add oat milk.”

Hobi let out a dramatic gasp. “The most London thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What’s next? Earl Grey and scones?” Jimin added, stirring sugar into his iced latte.

“Don’t tempt me. I brought a whole suitcase of Yorkshire tea with me.”

The three of them burst into laughter, the kind that came easy even after years apart. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the cozy Busan café, catching dust motes in its path. The walls were lined with books, mismatched chairs, and the smell of fresh bread and espresso clung to the air like comfort.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, still smiling. “I missed this.”

“We missed you more,” Hobi said, nudging her ankle under the table. “I still remember our dumb group chats. Jimin kept trying to send you memes at 3 a.m. Korea time like you weren’t asleep in another country.”

“I was never asleep,” she chuckled. “I just didn’t reply because they were terrible memes.”

“They were hilarious,” Jimin defended, feigning offense.

Y/N looked between them and softened. “Seriously, though. Thank you for today. I’ve been back for a few weeks, but this is the first time it’s really felt like… home.”

Jimin raised his glass. “To not waiting another seven years.”

“Cheers to that,” Hobi said, clinking glasses with both of them.

They lingered over their drinks, catching up on everything — Y/N’s tiny apartment near the Han River, Hobi’s art residency, Jimin’s half-serious plan to quit and open a bakery.

“You say that every year,” Y/N teased.

“This time I mean it.”

“You also said that last year,” Hobi added dryly.

“Okay, rude.”

Their laughter rolled on until the clock nudged past sunset. Hobi stretched with a yawn. “I’ll grab the bill.”

“Me too,” Jimin said, standing. “Y/N, don’t move. You’re the guest of honor.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Hobi pointed at her. “Sit.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

As they moved toward the counter, Y/N stayed back, sipping the last of her drink, eyes drifting to the soft rustle of leaves outside the window.

Then — the bell above the door chimed.

She glanced up out of habit, then froze.

Jungkook.

He stepped into the café with a friend beside him, mid-conversation, head tilted slightly back in laughter. He looked the same and different — lean, sharp around the edges, still dressed in black, silver glinting from his rings. There was something quieter about him now. Less fire, more warmth.

He turned — and his eyes met hers.

Everything stilled.

His lips parted. “...Y/N?”

She stood slowly, blinking once. “Hey.”

The friend glanced between them, eyes catching something unspoken, and gently excused himself with a nod, heading to the far end of the shop.

Jungkook took a cautious step closer, voice softer. “I wasn’t expecting…”

“I know,” she said. “Me either.”

They stood for a moment just looking at each other. Seven years of distance, of growing into different lives, and somehow… this still felt familiar.

“You look good,” he said finally.

“So do you.”

“London treated you well?”

“It did.” She smiled gently. “You’ve been doing amazing, I've seen."

He gave a modest shrug. “Still figuring it out.”

A pause.

“Want to sit?” she asked, gesturing to the booth.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

They sat opposite each other, and the silence wasn’t awkward — just full. Full of history. Of the version of themselves that only existed when they were nineteen.

“So,” she said, “what brings you to Busan?”

“Just needed to get out of Seoul for a bit, visit mum and dad." he said. “You?”

“Same. Meeting up with Jimin and Hobi. Haven’t seen them in forever.”

“I figured,” he smiled. “Saw them paying at the counter just now. Jimin dropped his card twice.”

She laughed. “Some things don’t change.”

“And some things do.”

Another pause — heavier now.

“You still writing?” he asked.

“Sometimes. Not as much. You?”

“Every day. But not all of it’s for release.” He hesitated. “Some things are just for me now.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

He glanced down at the table, then back at her.

“I saw your interview last year,” she said softly. “When you mentioned your girlfriend.”

A flicker of something passed through his gaze, then softened. “Yeah… she’s great. Grounded. Quiet in the best way.”

“I’m happy for you.”

He smiled, and for a second, he looked nineteen again. “I heard you’re with someone too. Jimin mentioned it in passing.”

She nodded. “His name’s Minjae. We met in a used bookstore — he was holding the last copy of a book I wanted.”

“Let me guess… you charmed it out of him.”

“Obviously.”

They both laughed again, quietly this time.

A breath.

Then, Jungkook leaned back, folding his arms on the table. His voice was careful.

“Do you ever… think about it? What we were?”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t waver. “All the time.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t regret it,” she said.

He shook his head. “Never.”

“It was real,” she added. “Even if it didn’t last.”

He looked down, his thumb absentmindedly tracing a faint ring mark on the wood grain.

“Sometimes I wonder how different everything would’ve been if we hadn’t let go,” he said.

“And sometimes,” she whispered, “I think it was the only reason we became who we were meant to be.”

He looked at her then — really looked.

“I still love you,” he said. “Not the way I used to. But… it’s there. It always will be.”

She smiled, eyes soft and damp. “I know. I feel the same. I love you too. I think i always will.”

They sat in silence, letting the moment settle. No tension. No longing.

Just two people who had loved each other deeply. Who had let go, not because they stopped loving — but because they loved each other enough to do it.

A bell chimed again — Jimin and Hobi returned with cups in hand, freezing mid-step when they saw who sat across from Y/N.

“Uh…” Jimin blinked. “Is this a ghost sighting or…”

“Hi, Jimin,” Jungkook grinned. “Still dropping your card everywhere?”

“Wow. Rude. Nice to see you too.”

“Hi, Jungkook, it's been too long.” Hobi said, grinning. “You want to join us? Catch up a little?”

Jungkook glanced at Y/N, smiled, and stood. “Rain check. I’ve got someone waiting for me.”

“I’m glad I saw you today.” He says, standing up slowly.

“Me too.”

He paused before leaving, hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“So… still stealing books from bookstores?”

Y/N scoffed. “It was one book. And I left money in the sleeve.”

“You left coins, Y/N.”

“Still legal tender.”

He laughed — low and warm, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed.

“I missed this,” he said softly. “Us.”

“Me too.”

He looked at her for a moment. Really looked. Then, quieter, “You’re happy, right?”

“I am,” she said. “Are you?”

“I am.”

A small silence.

He smiled gently. “I always thought we’d meet again someday.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t think it would feel so… soft.”

Her eyes softened. “We were never really hard, Jungkook. Just… young.”

He nodded slowly.

Then, with a flicker of something tender, “Do you still carry that dumb keychain I won you?”

“I told you it wasn’t dumb.”

“That’s not a no.”

She smiled. “It’s still on my desk.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, like it landed somewhere deep.

Then he stepped back, just slightly.

“I should go."

"Okay." You nod, saying goodbye before he turned.

But you stop him. You had to. One last time.

"Kook?" The old nickname rolling off your tongue so easily.

He turns.

"You still owe me a rematch from that claw machine."

He smiles, genuinely.

"I'll still win you, you know that." He replies, with a soft laugh.

A pause. One final glance.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

She nodded. “You too, Jungkook.”

He hesitated, then added, soft as breath, “You were my favorite chapter.”

Her voice barely held. “And you were mine.”

Then he turned and walked away — no turning back, no regrets.

Just two hearts, quietly full.

#jeon jungkook #bts #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts army

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littlegochu · 6 days ago

Note

Can we get a big one shot or a series, of single daddy JK and reader is an assistant at HYBE daycare while she temporarily figures her life out (she’s an artist trying to make means meet). She also bartends on the weekend and runs into JK one of the nights he is out with the boys.

I feel like you’ll be incredible in writing this

after hours│ jjk 18+

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: single dad jungkook, slow burn

rating: 18+ (explicit content — sexual themes)

synopsis: y/n juggles quiet days at a daycare and late nights bartending, never expecting her life to shift when jungha — a soft-spoken kid — walks in with his ridiculously attractive, unreadable dad.

between shared coffees, late-night drives, and silent promises, y/n learns that love doesn’t always arrive loudly. sometimes it shows up in small, steady ways — and maybe this time, it’s hers to keep.

i really hope this is applesauce.

it’s barely 10 am and my jeans are dotted in glitter glue and something sticky.

"gina," i murmur, crouching beside the low table where a few kids are coloring. "we can get you a new one, okay?"

i try to console her as she's having a full-body meltdown because her juice box exploded.

beside her, haru’s chewing on a blue crayon like it’s a snack. again.

surprisingly not the worst morning i’ve had.

i've been working here for about 6 months now, as a daycare assistant with my bestfriend. unlike her, i never aspired to work anything in child care industry.

but life doesn’t really ask what you want.

it's been hard to keep myself up recently, not after my mom's passing. i dedicated the last 2 years of my life as her caregiver, cutting my own dreams short to tend to her illness and keep us afloat.

i would do it again in a heartbeat, its just funny to think that i wasted my time just to see her go.

after she left i've just been trying to survive, i work at the daycare in the mornings, bartending at night.

my real dream? probably to be an artist.

i was always obsessed with painting, color palettes were my own way of expressing myself—

"miss y/n, how do you draw a sunset?"

jiwon holds up a paper with orange scribbles and a sun in the top corner.

i crouch down beside him, resting my chin in my hand. “well… sunsets aren’t perfect circles. they kind of melt into the sky, right? like when your ice cream melts.”

he blinks. “so i draw a puddle?”

“a pretty puddle,” i say, smiling, and he giggles.

i help him blend red and orange together with his stubby fingers, showing him how to smudge the lines just a little.

“can i put it on the wall?”

“alright, clean up time!” i call, clapping my hands twice. “parents are on the way!"

i help the kids line up their drawings on the little gallery wall we made near the door with their names are signed at the bottom.

"say bye to miss y/n and miss kyla!" summer's mom smilies as she carries her toddler between her arms, holding her lunch bag in the other.

"bye bye!"

i wave, already turning back toward the cubbies when i hear someone crying over a missing sock.

"look who’s here, y/n," kyla says behind me.

i glance over my shoulder.

she’s holding a sleeping haru on her shoulder, smirking. her head tilts toward the front door.

i follow her gaze and stop.

standing in the doorway, all black casual business attire and silver rings, hair slightly messy.

mr. jeon.

he's one of those quieter parents, always on time. he's been bringing his 3 year old here for about 2 months and its always been him picking him up.

and never once have i heard jungha bring up his mom.

proabably a busy woman, i cringe at myself everytime i think i have a chance.

seriously? finding your student's dad attractive? you're sick y/n.

but he's such a dilffffffffffffffffffff—

"i'm here for jungha?"

i snap back into reality as i scan for jungha, my eyes land on a small figure by the gallery wall, quietly adjusting his drawing. when he sees his dad, he doesn’t run. doesn’t yell. he just walks over and tugs the edge of mr. jeon's sleeve.

“ready?” he says softly.

he crouches down, pulling him into a one-armed hug. his hand rests gently over jungha’s back, a subtle kind of affection.

“he was good today,” i say, stepping forward. “still quiet.”

mr. jeon looks at me. dark eyes, unreadable. “he usually is.”

i nod, offering a small smile. “he drew a rocket for you.”

jungha glances up at me. not a smile, exactly — just a blink, a flicker of acknowledgment.

he stands, adjusting the strap of jungha's bag. “thanks.”

he doesn’t linger. never does.

i slowly close up the bar as the clock hits 12am.

we don’t shut down until 2am but the rush is over. the shift’s been steady, not as wild as it got earlier during the basketball game, but a few stragglers here and there.

yoongi (he’s a newer face), is here — tucked into the end of the bar, sipping a belgian moon. he's been coming around more often, doesn’t talk much, doesn’t cause trouble, he tips well and waits quietly usually.

“refill?” i ask, wiping down the bar in front of him.

he lifts his glass slightly.

i pour a new pint and slide it back to him. “you waiting on someone?”

he glances at the door. “yeah. friend of mine.”

the door chimes.

i look up.

and stop breathing.

in a black shirt button up shirt, silver chain around his neck, the same messy-styled hair this morning.

mr. jeon.

he doesn’t notice me right away, more focused on yoongi, walking toward him with a nod.

they do that half hug — a quick clasp of hands and a shoulder tap before settling into the bar stools beside each other. mr. jeon mutters something low, and yoongi huffs a tired laugh in response.

i’m frozen in place behind the bar, turning away and crouching down pretending to find the bottle opener.

"congrats on your cousins gallery, man, you built that?"

“a bit,” yoongi answers. “been working on it since two years ago. happy to see it up.”

another soft chuckle. mr. jeon's voice is sounds lower, quieter, more relaxed than during his pickups. i peek up from behind the bar, just enough to catch him resting his forearms against the counter, silver rings catching the low light.

he looks good.

they talk about some mutual friend i don’t know, then mr. jeon finally glances toward the drink menu on the bar.

“you got tequila?” he asks, not looking at me yet.

i don’t move. just grab the bottle automatically and start pouring. “silver or gold?”

his head tilts. “gold.”

i slide the shot across the bar without thinking.

he reaches for it, fingers brushing the base and finally looks up.

his eyes meet mine.

and he freezes.

there’s a beat of silence where even yoongi seems to notice something shift. he blinks, eyebrows just barely lifting.

“…miss y/n?”

i raise a brow. “mr. jeon.”

yoongi turns, looking between us with a slow blink. “…wait.”

mr. jeon exhales like he’s trying not to laugh. “you work here?”

“four nights a week,” i say casually, resting one arm on the bar.

yoongi stares at his drink like it’s suddenly gotten way too interesting.

mr. jeon glances at him, then back at me. “she’s a teacher at jungha’s daycare,” he says, lips tugging into the smallest smirk. “interesting seeing you here.”

yoongi clears his throat like he’s trying not to get dragged in. “small world.”

“too small,” i mutter, pouring another round for someone down the bar.

yoongi finishes his beer, checks his phone, and lets out a sigh.

“alright. i’m calling it. see you?”

“depends if you call me first,” mr. jeon says, not looking up from his drink.

yoongi stands, gives me a small nod. “goodnight, y/n.”

“night, yoongi.” i manage, offering a small smile.

yoongi turns to mr. jeon. “you staying?”

“for a bit.”

yoongi just shrugs and claps a hand to his shoulder. “don’t bother her too much.”

“wasn’t planning to.”

once the door shuts behind him, the silence shifts.

mr. jeon doesn’t say anything. just sips from his shot glass and scrolls through his phone while i work my way around the bar, wiping down tables and stacking chairs.

by the time i flip the lights behind the bar, it’s just the two of us left.

he stretches slightly, standing as i pull on my jacket.

“you can call me jungkook, by the way,” he says suddenly, voice low.

i glance over. “oh?”

“i figured since yoongi’s throwing your first name around like that...”

i smirk. “y/n.” tilting my head a little—“you sure? ‘mr. jeon’ has such a nice ring to it.”

he laughs softly, a bit breathier this time. “only during pick-up hours.”

i zip up my jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder.

he doesn’t move right away, just watches me from where he’s standing, hands in his pockets, eyes following every small movement.

i head toward the front door and flick off the last neon sign in the window. silence wraps around us.

“where’s your car?” he asks.

i hesitate. “a couple blocks down.”

he nods once. no hesitation. “i’ll walk you.”

“you don’t have to.”

“i know.”

he says it so simply. i look at him for a second longer than necessary, then push the door open.

outside, the street is quiet. the sky’s clear, streetlights humming. my boots hit the pavement, his strides just slightly heavier beside mine.

we don’t talk for a while, just walk. his hands are in his coat pockets, mine gripping the strap of my bag.

after a minute, he glances over. “do you usually get off this late?”

“mm. depends on the crowd. tonight was mild.”

he hums in acknowledgment. “do you walk to your car alone every time?”

“i don’t really think about it.”

“you should.”

he’s not looking at me. just ahead, eyes calm, jaw clenched.

my car comes into view, we slow to a stop beside it.

“thanks,” i say, turning to unlock the door.

he nods. “you get home safe, y/n.”

it’s the way he says it; like it’s a request and a promise at the same time. its makes my chest feel strangely full.

i open the door, one foot inside, then glance back at him.

“see you tomorrow?”

his eyes flicker to mine, a corner of his mouth barely tugging up. “yeah. see you tomorrow.”

i get in.

he doesn’t walk away until i’ve closed the door, engine rumbling to life. hands in his pockets. watching.

ugh, its the morning.

i’m half-running on fumes when i open the daycare doors at 7:20.

my hairs tied up, coffee half-spilled on my hoodie, and a stack of paper stars tucked under my arm for today’s “space explorer” theme.

i kneel by the cubbies, taping up names for coat hooks when the bell above the door chimes.

i don’t look right away. just call, “morning!”

small footsteps patter across the floor.

a quiet thud against my leg.

i freeze.

then look down.

jungha.

his little arms wrap around my shin, his cheek smushed into my knee like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

i blink.

"morning jungha,”

his face stays buried for a second, then he pulls back just enough to hold up something clutched in his fist.

a folded paper rocket with red scribbles, my name in shaky letters on the side.

“you forgot this,” he mumbles.

my chest squeezes unexpectedly.

i take it, kneeling down. “thank you, astronaut jungha. i’ll keep it safe.”

his lips twitch upward, just barely—before he scurries off toward the coloring table.

then i glance up.

and there he is.

mr. jeon. leaning in the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a slate grey crewneck. same silver chain, one hand in his pocket, the other resting against the doorframe.

his gaze is steady.

not cold, not unreadable, just… watching.

something flickers between us then—small, unspoken.

“you get home okay the other night?”

my breath catches a little.

i nod. “yeah. thanks again.”

his mouth curves, subtle. “see you.”

“see you.”

and then he’s gone.

but i’m still standing there.

paper rocket in hand.

“...you good?” kyla’s voice floats in from the other side of the room, casual, but i know her too well.

i turn, slowly.

she’s leaning against the play kitchen with a plastic banana in one hand, eyebrows raised.

i clear my throat, shove the rocket into my hoodie pocket. “yep. great. just.. tired.”

“mhm.." she hums, biting back a grin. “tired from working late… or from walking to your car with mr. jeon?”

i blink. “how—”

“you had that look.” she shrugs.

“kyla.”

“he walked you to your car, didn’t he?”

i press my lips together. silence is apparently confession enough.

she whistles. “girl. i’ve been saying. the way he watches you at pick-up like he’s trying not to cross a line? but also might be imagining you in nothing but one of those tiny daycare aprons?”

i groan, dragging a hand over my face. “stop.”

“what? i’m just saying. he’s quiet. hot. good dad. you’re single. he’s single. jungha likes you. the universe is doing its job.”

“he’s a parent.”

“and?”

i narrow my eyes. “you’re impossible.”

she winks, already turning back to the kids. “just don’t be surprised when he shows up with a second paper rocket and a coffee.”

aaaaaaaaand.. what the fuck.

jungkook walks in at pickup with a coffee in his hand.

i dont even need to look back at kyla to hear her snickering behind me.

i pretend i don’t notice. pretend i’m completely focused on taping up the last few drawings from this morning — crooked crayon suns and glittery stick people — even as i feel him walk closer.

“you’re early,” i say, not turning.

“got off work early.”

i glance over, finally.

he holds the coffee out toward me. “thought you might want this.”

i blink. “…for me?”

he nods, a little too casual. “you looked tired the other night.”

i take it, slowly. the cup’s warm against my palm, and for a second i forget how to hold eye contact properly.

“…thanks.”

his mouth twitches. “cream, no sugar. that okay?”

“how did you—?”

“jungha says you like it like that. said you told him it was ‘adult coffee.’”

i blink again.

kyla cackles from across the room. i don’t even try to hide my glare.

“you have spies,” i mutter.

“i have a very observant kid,” jungkook replies smoothly.

i turn to see jungha run toward him at full speed, backpack swinging wildly. jungkook crouches and catches him effortlessly with one arm, pulling him in.

“did you draw another rocket today?” he asks softly.

jungha nods and glances at me. “this one’s for miss y/n.”

he digs around in his cubby and hands me a folded piece of construction paper. the rocket is lopsided, the stars are pink, and my name is spelled wrong.

i feel my chest actually ache.

“thank you, jungha,” i say, kneeling down. “i’ll put this right next to the one from this morning.”

he just nods again and slips his hand into his dad’s.

jungkook meets my eyes as he adjusts the strap on his son’s backpack. “see you around, y/n.”

“you too… jungkook.”

as they walk out, kyla sidles up next to me.

“you’re so fucked,” she sings.

i sip the coffee. it’s perfect.

“…yeah,” i whisper. “i know.”

it’s sunday night and the bar is slow — the kind of slow that makes you count bottle caps and restack coasters just to feel like time’s passing.

the overhead lights buzz louder without a crowd. the tv murmurs with a baseball game no one’s watching. it’s been like this all shift. mellow. forgettable.

and i was kinda hoping it wouldn’t be.

friday came and went.

so did saturday.

no jungkook.

no black button-up, no tequila order, no silent glances from across the bar that made my chest feel like it couldn’t settle.

i told myself it wasn’t a big deal. how he probably got busy or had plans or maybe walking a daycare teacher to her car once at 2am wasn’t as memorable for him as it was for me.

i mean… maybe i looked into it too much.

maybe it was just a one-time thing.

he was being polite, protective. like any decent guy would. i’ve just been tired, maybe the attention felt warmer than it actually was.

maybe i wanted it to mean something.

i lean on the bar, drag my rag across the same spot again.

“you’re spiraling,” kyla says from behind me, not even looking up as she restocks the glasses.

“i’m not.”

“you are. your face does that thing.”

i frown. “what thing?”

“the pouty one. where you’re convinced you read a guy wrong and now you’re punishing the countertop for it.”

i roll my eyes. “very specific.”

she shrugs. “very accurate.”

before i can argue, the door chimes.

i glance up automatically.

a group of three walks in. not him.

i swallow the twist of disappointment and straighten my posture. “booth or bar?”

kyla nudges my shoulder as she passes. “he’ll show.”

i don’t say anything.

but i hope she’s right, not just because it would mean he cares —

but because i think i really, really want him to.

the bar’s mostly clean. the register's closed, and i’m reaching under the counter for my bag when i hear kyla’s voice from the front.

“i’m heading out. you good to lock up?”

“yep,” i call back, pulling my coat on.

she swings the door open with her jacket already half-zipped, she turns to glance at me over her shoulder. “text me when you're home. don’t get kidnapped.”

“i'll try.”

the door clicks shut behind her, and then—

a knock.

i pause, slowly leaning to peek out the side window.

and there he is.

leaned up against the brick wall just outside the door. he’s scrolling his phone like he’s been there a while or like he only just got here and makes it look good.

i crack the door open. “we’re closed, you know.”

his eyes flick up from his screen, the corner of his mouth curves. “figured.”

“then what are you doing here, mr. jeon?”

he shrugs. “sunday’s slow. thought maybe you’d need a walk home.”

i blink. “you stalking my schedule now?”

“maybe.” he shifts off the wall. “or maybe your friend told me you usually bus it on sunday nights.”

kyla.

“and you waited out here?”

“you’re not the only one with good timing.”

i step out and lock the door behind me, shoulders hunching slightly against the chill. he walks beside me, casual, hands stuffed into his pocket.

“you missed friday and saturday,” i say after a beat.

“wasn’t avoiding you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“who said i was thinking that?”

he laughs under his breath. “were you?”

“if i was mistaken,” i murmur, “i’d think you have a crush on me, mr. jeon.”

his steps slow just a little.

“you’re not mistaken.”

my breath catches.

“but if it makes you feel better,” he adds, a slight curve tugging at his mouth, “i’m trying to be subtle about it.”

“this is you being subtle?”

he finally lets out a low laugh. “you should see me when i’m obvious.”

he says it like a joke, but there’s a flicker in his eyes when he looks at me that makes my pulse stutter.

i try to ignore it.

“so,” i say, clearing my throat, “do you do this for all your kid’s teachers?”

“just the pretty ones that make my kid smile,” he says, no pause.

i stop in my tracks.

he doesn’t.

just keeps walking a few steps ahead, like he didn’t just casually drop that into the night air and walk away from it.

“…wow,” i mutter, catching up. “bold.”

we fall into step again, quieter now. the wind rustles through a tree nearby.

the breeze gets there first, curling under my coat sleeve. i shiver.

he notices.

“cold?” he asks.

“a little.”

without a word, he tugs the jacket over his shoulders and holds it out. it smells like clean laundry and faint cologne. i hesitate, but he gives me a look.

i pull it over my head.

“you look warm,” he says, flicking his keys from his pocket. “come on. i’ll drive you.”

“you don’t have to—”

“i know,” he says again, unlocking the car. “but i want to.”

the inside of his car smells like pine and something faintly sweet. the passenger seat’s already warm from the heater. i buckle in, tucking my hands into the sleeves.

he glances over as he pulls out onto the road. “comfortable?”

i nod.

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. we fall into a silence, the city blurs with amber lights and red signals, windshield wipers wiping the early drizzle.

i swallow. “you know this is weird, right?”

“what is?”

“you. me. this.”

authors note: i kinda liked writing this, it was a very new trope for me but ill have part 2 soon!

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts army #jungkook smut #jungkook ff

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ikmlovsblog · 2 years ago

Text

★ like + rb if you save pls.

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lilliankoo · 4 months ago

Text

play you like a game, boy || chapter 2.

🗡️ antagonist jungkook x princess reader

trope: "he's mean to everyone but worships the ground you walk on", will absolutely do anything for you, strangers to lovers.

word count: 2.1k

chapter 1 chapter 3

chapter warnings: mention of blood, machete. rituals, mentions of sacrifices, kissing, possessive jungkook, slightly jealous jungkook, simp jungkook, calling the reader “mother”.

————————————————————————

You are confused, and so are your parents. You can tell by the way they both look at you, then at Jungkook.

"Ritual?" your father asks, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook gives a slight smile, looking around, and you can't quite read the expression on his face. Whatever is going on inside his mind, you're sure it's not good. He sighs and takes a few steps back.

"Here in Lav, we don't believe in marriages. We perform a soul-tying ritual," he says.

The words sound foreign, almost alien to your ears. Your brows furrow instinctively, a wave of confusion washing over you. You’re too scared to look at your parents right now. You glance at Jungkook instead, noticing the way his eyes seem to drink you in—too much adoration, compassion, care... love. Your mother had been right; Jungkook is indeed in love with you.

You gulp, trying to steady your racing heart, and look at your father, standing next to you. He meets your gaze and, without a word, intertwines his hand with yours. You find solace in the familiar gesture. Growing up, you’d always been closer to your father than your mother, but what you don’t notice is the way Jungkook’s jaw clenches, the silent fury in his gaze as he looks at your father.

Jungkook clears his throat, his tone soft but firm as he extends his hand toward you. “Come,” he murmurs.

You hesitate, unsure of what to do. But your father squeezes your hand in reassurance. It’s unspoken, but you understand the message: don’t ruin this. Slowly, you take Jungkook’s hand and follow him up the stairs toward the platform. He leads you to stand in front of two chairs, centered on the stage, while your parents stand by the side with the villagers.

You turn back to glance at them when, suddenly, an elderly man approaches, draping a large mantle made of fur and leather over your shoulders. As he does, he mutters a prayer in a language you don't understand. The mantle is identical to Jungkook's, except for one difference—his mantle bears a tiger’s head perched on top. The sight unsettles you, but you try not to dwell on it.

At the stage with you and Jungkook, besides the old man, stand two women and the man who brought you here earlier. One of the women, dressed in brown leather, steps forward, smiling warmly. She speaks to Jungkook, and he nods. He motions for you to sit. You comply, but the tight corset and heavy mantle make it difficult. You try to fold the dress by your feet, but the corset gives you little room to move.

Without hesitation, Jungkook kneels before you, adjusting your dress with surprising tenderness. A strange, unfamiliar sensation tugs at your chest. As he does so, you notice the shocked expressions of the onlookers—the elderly man’s mouth hangs open, the women exchange bewildered glances, and the crowd murmurs amongst themselves. Your parents stand frozen, your father’s mouth agape while your mother wears a knowing smirk, her eyes gleaming with the unspoken words: “I told you.”

"Is it okay?" Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your trance, and you nod absentmindedly. His smile returns, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes, before he stands, sitting back in his chair.

As time passes, preparations for the ritual continue. Everything happening around you feels utterly foreign. A man drums in the corner, another blows into a shell-like instrument, and yet another makes guttural, animal-like sounds. It’s all too much for your senses.

A sharp, shrill noise cuts through the chaos, and your eyes are drawn to a pair of goats, tied to a post in the corner. You can’t shake the growing suspicion that they are here to be sacrificed. A chill runs down your spine at the thought.

As you survey the scene, another woman approaches with a bowl. From your sitting position, you can’t see the contents, but when she dips her fingers into the bowl and reaches for your face, you instinctively lean back. She steps back, waiting for Jungkook’s cue.

He exchanges a few words with her in their native language, then turns to you. “You don’t have to be scared. This is just fuller’s earth clay mixed with rosewater and coconut oil. It’s necessary, a vital part of the ritual.”

His voice is calm, almost too sweet, and for a moment, you doubt his intentions. He gestures to the woman, who begins applying the clay to his throat, drawing a half-moon symbol on his forehead and two parallel lines on his jaw. Once she finishes, she turns to you, and again you recoil.

But this time, you have a plan.

“I want you to apply it,” you say softly, a hint of challenge in your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise. The old man, who had draped your mantle, clears his throat and steps forward, perhaps to interject. From what you can gather, Jungkook isn’t supposed to do this. The man speaks, but Jungkook raises a hand, silencing him without even looking in his direction.

With a smile, Jungkook turns to you and nods. The crowd gasps as he cradles your face in his hands, his fingers gently applying the clay, mirroring the symbols on his own face. He tilts your head from side to side, admiring his work, and when his gaze locks with yours, he murmurs, “Pretty.”

Anger rises in you, burning hot. This wasn’t the way you wanted him to act. The ritual, his control, it’s all too much. You feel your jaw clench, your eyes sting with frustration. But you hold it in.

The ritual continues for a while longer, with more strange and uncomfortable actions. You wear a crown-like headband made of peacock feathers, bracelets, threads, and bangles are tied to your wrists, and you’re made to recite several prayers.

Finally, the old man steps forward once more, nodding toward Jungkook.

“The ritual is complete,” the man says. “But one thing remains. To seal it fully, there is still one step left.”

Jungkook turned to you and gently intertwined his hands with yours, making you stand. You both descend the few steps toward the post, but just before you reach it, Jungkook diverts your path toward your parents.

For the first time, your father smiles at you. Your mother, though, looks more relieved than anything. Just as you’re about to embrace them, Jungkook steps in front of you, pulling your father into a hug instead.

“Congratulations,” Jungkook says, his voice sincere.

Your mother echoes the sentiment.

“We would love to have you both stay, but the next ritual is only for the people of Lav,” Jungkook says, his gaze turning to your father. “The carriage is ready.” He gestures toward the vehicle in the distance.

A wave of dread washes over you as your father nods, though he quickly asks if they can speak with you privately. Jungkook denies the request, telling him to say whatever he wants in front of him.

“Take care. May the gods be with you,” your father says softly, caressing your head.

“You’ll be fine here, my baby. Jungkook will keep you safe,” your mother says, her eyes fixed on him.

The weight of their departure hits you like a ton of bricks. Tears slip down your face, and you throw your arms around your parents, desperate not to let go.

“I want to go with you,” you plead, but before your father can respond, Jungkook steps forward.

“You cannot,” he says, his voice low and firm.

Rage flares up inside you, and suddenly everything feels too tight. The mantle, the crown, the bracelets—all feel suffocating. You try to pull at them desperately, your jaw clenched, tears streaming down your face. Jungkook grabs your arms to steady you, forcing you to meet his gaze.

For the first time today, you see the real Jungkook. His brows are furrowed, his jaw clenched, and the love that once seemed to soften him is gone. “You are my woman now,” he breathes, his voice low and serious. “You are the mother of this forest and these people. If you leave, everyone will die—including the forest, the people, and me. We are tied to you.”

His words strike you silent. You stare at him, searching for something—anything—that might explain this. But he says nothing more.

When he lets go of your arms, he rubs them gently as if apologizing.

—------------------------------------------------------

You watch as the carriage pulls away, your parents leaving you behind in this strange village.

“Come,” Jungkook says, his voice gentle now as he takes your hand. You follow him, the energy drained from you.

“This is the last ritual,” Jungkook whispers in your ear. “After this, we will be each other’s forever.”

His words send a shiver through your spine. The thought of living here as his "wife" does not sit well with you.

“What will happen?” you ask quietly, your heart pounding.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand. “We are going to gift our forest goddess, Devti. This day wouldn’t have been possible without her,” he says.

Before you can ask another question, a woman steps forward with a machete in hand. Your eyes widen in horror. The goats, the sacrifice—it's happening.

The woman’s voice booms through the clearing. “Everyone, the goddess Devti has blessed us once again. She has given our leader, Jeon Jungkook, another gift. For years, this forest has yearned for a mother, and here she is.”

Your mind reels at the mention of “mother.”

"Today, Jeon Jungkook and Y/N became one. Today, Lav and its people got their mother," she finishes, and the crowd erupts in deafening cheers.

“May Devti keep blessing the Lav, protect her people, and may Devti bless our leader Jungkook and mother Y/N with a prosperous future,” the woman concludes.

The crowd chants, “No man can defeat him, for he is blessed by the Devti.”

You are trembling. The weight of the machete in your hand feels too heavy. The goats cry in terror, and for a moment, you wonder if they know what’s coming. You look at Jungkook, but his smile only intensifies your fear.

"Go on," he urges softly. "Give her blood."

You shake your head, your breath quickening. You cannot bring yourself to kill innocent creatures. With trembling hands, you pass the machete back to Jungkook.

"I can't," you whisper. "I can't kill them."

Jungkook’s eyes soften, and he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, my love, this isn’t killing. It’s offering blood to the goddess."

But nothing he says helps. You are suffocating, your mind reeling, when a sudden idea flashes across your mind.

“Jungkook,” you say, your voice shaking but resolute. “Your goddess needs blood, right?”

He nods, sensing your change of tone.

“Well,” you continue, looking directly at him, “I don't want to kill the goats. They're babies, they should be with their mother. But... if she wants blood...” You pause, wiping your tears. “Then give her yours.”

You place your head against his chest, allowing yourself a moment of quiet satisfaction as his eyes widen.

But before he can react, one of the villagers steps forward, his voice protesting.

“That’s against the ritual,” he says.

You don’t give him a chance to finish. You step in front of him and snap, “Do not interfere while I’m speaking to my husband.”

The man immediately bows, a look of fear crossing his face.

Jungkook steps forward, his hand on your back, as he pushes the man away. “Only talk to my wife like that if you want to become one with the fire,” he warns, his voice cold.

You stand there, momentarily taken aback by his response. You suppress a smirk.

In a sudden motion, Jungkook grabs the machete, surprising the crowd when he slides the blade across his palm. Blood drips from his hand as he walks toward the stone statue of the goddess Devti. He wipes the blood over the stone, breathing heavily as the air grows thick with tension.

The crowd stands frozen in place, too afraid to make a sound. The silence is suffocating, and for reasons you cannot explain, you suddenly find yourself walking toward him.

In that moment, something inside you shifts. You grab his face and kiss him.

For a brief second, he is caught off guard, but then his hands find their place around you, pulling you closer. He cradles your jaw with his blood covered hand, he moans into the kiss. You break the kiss, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

Before anything else can happen, the old man steps forward, taking the machete from Jungkook and casting it aside.

He pats Jungkook on the back, his voice booming across the gathering.

“May the goddess approve of this,” he says. “May she bless the mother as she has blessed this village. From this day, till the very end, Mother Y/N and Jeon Jungkook shall be together.”

The crowd erupts in cheers, and your future here begins to solidify.

————————————————————————

next chapter

taglist: @jincapableoflove @voitier @koocreampie @kookxin @mysticprincessstrawberry @imwutim @synamon @withmuchluv-tannie @taekritimin123 let me know if u would like to be added.

————————————————————————

thank you so much for the love on this fic, im happy that you guys are enjoying it :) i have so many more cool ideas, once i finish this series i will start posting them.

#jungkook fic #jungkook recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x y/n #yandere jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook fic recs #jk fic #jk fic recs #fiction

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boraswan · 2 years ago

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hiiii can you write a jungkook x reader where he introduces you to his friends but u have anxiety so u are worried that u made a bad impression and and he reassures you that they loved you <3 thank you <3

thank you sm for the request. hope you like it.

❤️

jungkook x reader

fluff/comfort, reader has anxiety, mention of therapy.

800 words.

You walked up the front door of his friends house, anxiety increasing by the second. But of course, your loving boyfriend has been very patient with you all day. Very sympathetic to your worries about meeting his friends. Not enough, however, to let you stay home.

“Stop dragging your feet, babe.” he said as you sat in his desk chair, hands coming behind you to lazily massage your shoulders. He was right. Yes, you were stalling. But you weren’t about to admit it.

“I’m not, kook. Its just, there’s something wrong with your chair! I have to figure it out before something happens!” you said, feigning innocence.

“Yeah cutie. I totally appreciate you looking out for me. But… it can wait until we get back.” he replied, looking at you knowingly.

“Yeah, I mean technically it could wait but, what if we forget?” you asked, much quieter this time.

“We won’t forget, baby. I’ll put it at the top of the list.” he said, pointing to his head.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing. Everything is gonna be okay. Don’t think about the chair too much, okay?” he said sweetly, rubbing your back up and down. You both knew he wasn’t really talking about the chair.

“Okay, thank you.” you said with a half smile, looking up at him. He knew you were trying. “Gentle encouragement” is what the therapist has called it. Your sweet boyfriend agreed to attend a session with you, listening very intently to everything that was said. You could tell he really cared. But the only downside was now he was too aware. He knew your antics, and wouldn’t let you close in on yourself.

So that led you to where you are right now. Standing outside his friend namjoon’s house. Six random people you had never met before. And your boyfriend talked about them endlessly. They meant so much to him and you were worried that something bad would happen, that they might not like you.

“Your hand is shaking like a leaf babe, relax.” He grabbed your hand into his, sending you a soft smile.

“I’ll be with you the whole time, mkay?” he cocked his head cutely at you, sending a reassuring look your way.

“Mkay.” you said back, mocking his voice.

Jungkook extended his free arm to open the door, and you braced for the worst.

Only a few hours. You can do this.

Your boyfriend led you into the house, slowly making your way through the hall towards the living room, where several voices were heard overlapping each other.

You almost reached the source, when a voice behind you interrupted the tension you felt in your chest.

“Y/N? Jungkook?”

You guys turned around at the call. A tall man was smiling fondly at the two of you.

Jungkook let go of you momentarily to hug the man, who was still smiling at you kindly.

“Did he say y/n?”

“Oh my god I think so.”

Before you knew it, multiple people flooded into the hallway. They all exchanged hugs with your boyfriend. A couple of them even hugged you too. They were all welcoming, but it was so crowded, and the hall was starting to feel smaller, and your shirt was too tight. And-

“Let’s go sit down shall we?” Jungkook smiled at them, hand settling on your lower back. A nice grounding feeling. They all agreed and made their way back to the living room. You guys were the last to walk in, far enough behind for him to discreetly whisper in your ear.

“I’ve got you babe. You’re doing amazing.”

As the night went on, the boys enthusiastically told stories about their youngest member. They didn’t spare him either. It was funny watching him cringe, leaning into you to hide from the embarrassment. This went on for what felt like only few minutes, until jungkook quietly asked if you were ready to go. You confusedly clicked your phone screen on, only to see that 3 hours had passed.

“Oh my god!” you whisper yelled.

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so late, I’m sorry.” You whisper yelled. Not that the boys would have noticed anyways. They were in their own world arguing about the timeline of a story.

“That’s okay baby, I’m glad you’re having a good time, it’s nice to see you all getting along like this.” he said looking at you fondly, before letting out a yawn.

“Tired?” you asked with a smile.

“Yeahh.” he admitted giggling.

“Alright, let’s tell them bye.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to separate you from your new besties.” he joked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, we can hang out for longer next time. We can meet up earlier in the day.”

“Next time?” He asked teasingly.

“Next time.” you confirmed.

❤️

#jungkook #jungkook reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts comfort #jungkook comfort #army #bts army #jungkook drabble

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luviestarz · 6 months ago

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jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 3

★ starry night (m) | jjk - @kithtaehyung (all you wanted to do was take your boyfriend on a super late date.)

★ Millisecond - @kookiepleasee (Jungkook just can’t get enough of you, but is too afraid to make a move, so he just admires you from afar, every day.)

★ Home: risky birthday 🔞 - @bonny-kookoo (In which you really don't know how he talked you into this.)

★ just a little... | jjk drabble - @soft4gguk

★ "big tiddie anime bitches" | jjk - @h0neypjm (Jungkook, bless his heart, has an obsession. An obsession with big titty anime girls and the idea of you dressed as them. His birthday is coming up, what better time to fulfil his weeb fantasies than on Jungkook's special day.)

★ WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES — JJK (m.) - @awrkive (there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so. or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.)

★ ( 전정국 ) . . . BURNING HOUR jeon jungkook - @jungqkook (there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.)

★ fill with fire, exhale desire, m | jjk - @whatifyoulivelikethat (He smokes cigarettes. You hate it. You always have a lighter in your pocket. He is pissed off because it isn't for him, you say. So much is said, but the truth is in the silence.)

★ RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE - @rklve (your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.)

★ Devoted to Trouble - @jeonsweetpea (In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?)

★ whipped - JJK - @aquagustd (another day, another trend that you’re forced to participate in with your boyfriend. It was his idea but he somehow gets sidetracked, with his head between your thighs.)

★ campus affairs | jeon jungkook - @kooktrash (you transferred to a new college during second semester and you didn’t expect much excitement out for. that’s until jungkook came along and what had struggled to be a friendship was becoming so much more.)

★ [10:29pm] | jeon jungkook - @kookssin (established!relationship, smut, mirror sex)

★ Fall Back in Love | jjk - @bukguhope (jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you)

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬: - @euphoricfilter (it’s not often your boyfriend calls you with a cryptic message to come over; especially when he’s meant to be at his parents’ place for the holidays.)

★ fast forward - JJK - @aquagustd (If every single person you knew was against you, it wouldn’t matter, doesn’t matter because Jungkook would be there for you. That’s why you don’t question his words when he repeats ‘I’ll be back’ one disconcerting morning, and you respond with ‘I know. I trust you.’ He’ll make you eat your words.)

★ paired & puppy-eyed | jjk - @yoon-kooks (When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.)

★ risqué ; timestamp #15 - @mercurygguk

★ LOVE ME | JJK - @wnderkoo (I guess I'm just a sucker for love.)

★ CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special - @voyter (your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.)

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 - @pennyellee (You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?)

★ grumpy!jk - @awrkive (jungkook is usually a nice guy from the way he interacts with other people – but the only exception comes to you. and you can't figure out why.)

★ MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국 - @lovieku (when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.)

★ CRAZY | JJK (Part 1) - @girlygguk (you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.)

★ metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader - @runariya

★ Closer To You - JJK (18+) - @back2bluesidex (You know that you and Jeongguk are completely different individuals from every possible aspect, and there is no future of this relationship but you can’t push him away, not when he only wants to come closer to you.)

★ next door - jjk - @sugaimhome (Jungkook is obsessed with you. All because of some badly designed architecture and house planning, he’d do anything for you, and when he sees you struggling to orgasm, he takes matters into his own hands... or camera.)

★ PRESSED IN THE STEAM - @97kuu (There is only so much he can handle visually of your wet, hot and exposed body in an a private onsen before his member starts craving more than simple touches and thrusts between your thighs.)

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violetsiren90 · 2 years ago

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Blame Me: Chapter 1 | Jungkook/Reader

Pairing: artist!freespirit!Jungkook/noona!f!Reader

Genre: Best friend's younger brother; slow burn; friends to lovers; eventual romance; eventual smut; neighbors/childhood friends au; forbidden(ish) love; summer love.

Summary: Upon returning to your hometown after breaking off your engagement to your boyfriend of three years, you reconnect with your childhood bestfriend as you attempt to put the pieces of your life back togethe r. It seems like nothing has changed in the sleepy little town until your bestie's younger brother returns home from college - very, very grown. As the summer stretches on, the stakes get higher - can you play with fire without getting burned, or have you ignited a flame that won't be extinguished?

Chapter Warnings: All my fics are 18+ (minors, dni); allusions to an unhappy home environment/neglect; descriptive scenes of shared meals (the characters will eat together a lot in this fic, as it is part of a family dynamic); mentions of promiscuity made in jest; the accidentally-in-bed-together trope; brief panic attack symptoms; MC has some issues with guilt and feeling like a burden

Updates: When I can! Life has been crazy lately.

Author's note: This is so incredibly late in coming, and I really struggled with it for whatever reason (the initial inspo was there and then it just wasn't coming) but I am still excited to tell this story and thank you in advance to anyone who takes the time to read it!

*Inspired by "Blame Me" by Monsta X 💕

In case no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️ 💜

Tag list: @papijiminfeed @oopscoop @violeata @fancycollectormoon @fandomtales @booboobutt @jlee97 @lifeless-firefly @lovemepie67 @shaybtsforever @woomyteez @smutbangtan @raiu54288

If you want to be added to the tag list, comment or send me an ask to let me know!

You watched the shiny white Tesla that had been your Uber grow smaller and smaller down the long shady stretch of Tiger Lily Lane. You stood on the sidewalk, behind you the warm asphalt of the road and long shadows of the tall, sprawling elms, and before you your childhood home. It was a little grey house with a blue door and white trim, kitchen windows like jovial eyes, curved at the top, staring out over a lawn overrun with crabgrass and lined with bushes of pale pink roses that grew flush with the unpainted picket fence. The porch swing was beginning to show signs of rust, but the two little hanging pots of azaleas that flanked it on either side were blooming and bright. The windows and flowers seemed to loudly stare out into the street, assuring neighbors and passersby of a happy home, but you knew better.

You shifted your duffel bag on your shoulder and sighed. You weren't ready to go in. The house into which your family had moved when you were in the third grade had never really been a home to you. In fact, it had been a place you had left. By choice. Granted you had paid the occasional visit, by choice. Because visits were temporary. This wasn't a visit - and the moment you walked through those doors, you would be shutting forever a chapter of your life in which, as stormy as it had been in recent days, had rescued you from the one before it.

An ugly feeling that had been brewing in the pit of your stomach since the pilot had announced that your plane was starting its decent was making itself well known as you stood outside the gate of house number 9195.

A voice snapped you out of your nauseated reverie, and as you turned to see its owner, new feelings washed over you. Better ones. In the lawn of 9197 Tiger Lily Lane stood a pretty, slim young woman with a sharply cut, silky black bob. Her catlike dark eyes were bright and intense, her face bare but lovely, and her clothes simple but strikingly presentable.

"Y/n!" she called again, her arms extended with open palms in a gesture of embrace and inquisition.

"Jiah!" you shouted, dropping your duffel with a thud and jogging into the ungated yard where she stood.

No sooner were you within arm's reach than she pulled you into a tight hug, swaying you from side to side as she pressed out of you, along with all the air in your lungs, a muffled laugh. Suddenly grasping you by the shoulders, she jerked you back so she could look at you. You grabbed her arms to steady yourself, continuing to gasp out bursts of laughter as you protested.

"Jiah, hold on! Woah! I'm gonna fall!"

"Who cares about that! I haven't seen you since...oh my god, since the summer we finished undergrad, I think? How are you? Are you going to be in town for a few days?"

You looked back over your shoulder to where two bulging suitcases stood beside your abandoned duffel, then back to Jiah's inquisitive gaze.

"It's gonna be more than a few days, Ji."

She squeezed your shoulder as she cocked her head to the side.

"Wait, are you moving back?"

You mustered a weary, uncertain smile.

"Surprise!" you offered weakly. Her smile faded, lips drawing into a pensive purse.

"You haven't even been in there yet, have you?" she asked gravely, her eyes searching yours, hand still on your shoulder. You shook your head, lowering your gaze groundward. She sighed.

"Alright, c'mon," she said suddenly, marching toward your pile of luggage.

She grabbed the duffel and tossed it at you, wheeling the other two bags up the driveway behind her.

"You're coming with me for now. We have some catching up to do."

You didn't protest as you followed her over the threshold of the Jeon household for the first time in a long while.

Linen. Every house has its very own unique scent - one that draws you into its aura, for good or ill, and wraps you in all of the memories and feelings it has afforded you; it can take you back to a moment in time, and who you were in that moment, unmistakable and fleeting - a smoke ring of a portal to a previous reality. Jiah's house smelled like linen. And lilacs? Something floral, but even more delicate.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you stood just inside the door. The sick feeling in your stomach began to shrink. Every muscle in your body began to soften. You could hear the laughter of years ago. You could feel the bubbly schoolgirl giddiness of slumber parties under forts of sheets. Movie nights with cartons of takeout. Summer afternoons laying in the grass and tossing lazy wishes up at puffy white clouds.

"Y/n? Have you even been listening to me?"

You opened your eyes and blinked at Jiah, who was standing in front of you with two bottles of grapefruit IPA and a look of mild annoyance.

"Sorry," you offered with a sheepish smile, slipping off your shoes, and traded the duffel in your right hand for one of the beers in answer to the question you had missed.

You followed her into the living room and plopped down next to her on a pretty white couch you didn't recognize, taking a long, wheaty swig from your bottle. She folded her legs up under herself and turned toward you, fixing you with earnest, expectant eyes. You raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Well, aren't you gonna tell me?" she pressed.

You smiled to yourself. Always so direct, Jeon Jiah. Even with half a decade stretching between this moment and the last you spent together, things were the very same. You were the Libra - the dramatic, messy one. The one with a heart full of dreams and a head in the clouds. She was the Capricorn with the strong sense of direction and the practical perspective. You always seemed to be in a quandary and she never failed to have a hard take on the situation. You sighed, taking another long sip of beer.

"Have we really talked at all since freshman year of undergrad?" Jiah shook her head.

While you had fought like hell to get out of Bellpond - even if it meant chasing your father's dreams of law school instead of your own - Jiah, who desperately wanted to join you in New York, had set aside her own longings to attend a local college while helping the family store survive the recession. Telling her the truth of what happened was going to be painful. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to transcend the assumption that what you were about to say would let her down.

"It was a guy, wasn't it?"

You shot wide eyes up at her, mouth agape at her sudden interjection.

"What?" she pressed with a shrug as she sipped her own beverage,

"That's always what it is with you."

You blinked, trying to form some sort of protest while failing to find any evidence in memory to counter her claims. You settled for a rueful smile and a huff.

"I guess I always have had pretty terrible taste in men," you conceded.

"Pretty terrible?" she pushed, her face pinching into a comically overt censoriousness. "It's like your number one turn-on is red flags!"

"Hey!" you rebutted, launching yourself at her shoulder in a playful shove, and sloshing her beer in the process.

You froze in panic as she glanced down at her dampened cardigan, and then at you.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

You jumped up and backed away, holding your hands outstretched in front of you as she stood up and slowly and menacingly advanced toward you.

"This is my favorite sweater," she hissed in a whisper.

"Jiah, I didn't mean too, I'm sorry!" you whined, manic laughter punctuating your words as you backed around the coffee table.

"It has lady bugs on the bottom," she hissed again, eyes narrowing as she raised the right hem to gesticulate at the embroidered insects in question.

"And they're very cute," you placated, hands still raised in self defense. "Look, I said I was - Aaahh!!"

She lunged at you mid-sentence, and you shrieked, tripping over your own feet in an attempt to flee and you toppled, one after the other, in a heap on the plush carpet. Before you could find out if your friend was in fact as strong as she had been in high school, the front door swung open and a familiar voice filled the room.

"Jeon Jiah, get up off the floor and help your imo with all these damn groceries! I had to - AHHHH!"

You looked up at the figure in the door as she let out a high-pitched squeal of delight. She was a petite bombshell of a woman in her early fifties, who, had you not known otherwise, you wouldn't have pegged for a day over forty. Bright and expertly executed makeup adorned her features - softer and rounder than Jiah's. Her permed dark hair was pulled up in a colorful bohemian wrap, and she wore compression pants, neon orange Nike's, and a crop top with a print of Joan Jett flipping the bird. She had dropped the bags of citrus and apples she had been carrying, sending the fruits rolling across the floor.

"Aebeolle!" She shrieked, running forward, and bending down to pull you up by your armpits into a half-stand so she could crush you in a hug.

"Rosie!" You propped yourself up on your knees so that you could wrap your arms around the tiny woman's middle.

Imo to her niece and nephew, she was Rosie to everyone else. While Jiah's mother had been the responsible one, staying out of trouble, and working in the family store after school, Rosie had been the wild child. Smart as a whip but with no patience for the system, Rosie had dropped out of high school at seventeen and jumped on a tour bus the following summer as the groupie of a grunge band. She hadn't looked back until Christmas Eve of 1999, when her whole world was shattered by a phone call.

She had taken the next flight back to the hometown she had promised to never set foot in again so that by Christmas morning she could have her niece and nephew in wrapped her arms. She left behind her life in the fast lane to take over running the Jeon's store and raise her sister's kids in their family home.

She had been there for you, too. On those nights you climbed out of your window, a backpack slung over your shoulder stuffed with clothes and a toothbrush, to tap softly on their front door. On the following mornings she had filled your stomach with warm, hearty dakjuk and fluffy slices of milk bread, and let you watch cartoons as she worked out the knots clinging to your neglected hair. She offered the warmest hugs, the softest words of direction, and the loudest cheers of praise. She had always called you "aebeolle" which was Korean for "caterpillar", and she had always given you the nurture you needed to survive. If she hadn't, you weren't sure where you would have come by it.

"What are you doing here? You finally paying us a visit?" she asked, clapping her hands to your cheeks.

"She was about to tell me about how some guy wrecked her life. Again."

Jiah interjected, earning herself a smack on the shoulder.

"Jiah, you brat!" Rosie chided, as she helped you to your feet.

She glanced up at you through fake lashes.

"You really do have the worst taste in men, though."

You sighed in defeat.

"Ugh, you two," you blustered, "Where is Jungkook when I need backup?"

"Headed this way, for the summer, actually," Rosie remarked as she collected the fruit strewn across the floor.

"So he decided to slum it, huh?" Jiah huffed, "I thought he was going to Ontario, or wherever the heck that last girl he met at that festival was from."

Rosie shrugged, shaking her head with a smile.

"I've lost track," she chuckled.

You blinked.

"Wait, wait, wait...are we talking about the same person?" You asked, holding a hand up in disbelief. "Jungkook. Your little brother. Tiny. Shy as hell. Looks like the weight of his head is gonna topple him over. Bunny rabbit teeth....is a lady's man?"

"Well, not strictly," Rosie hummed, hoisting a bag of produce onto the counter. "His sophomore year in Paris there was that one guy...what was his name?"

"Taehyung," Jiah offered, shedding her sweater and draining her beer.

"Right, right," Rosie nodded. "I liked him. Too bad."

Your mouth hung open. Jiah wrinkled her nose.

"You're gonna catch flies that way," she remarked sardonically.

"I...I just cannot believe what I'm hearing. Jungkook. In my mind he will forever be the tiny gremlin I have to keep bailing out of trouble."

Rosie smiled. Jiah scoffed.

"Well, he's still a gremlin, if you ask me," she sniffed, chucking the beer bottles in the recycling bin.

"When does he get back?" You asked.

Rosie shook her head as she divided the groceries between the cupboards and the fridge.

"He's on his bike so, barring any unexpected stops - which are definitely not out of the picture - he should be here in the next couple of days. Probably by the weekend."

You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the newly acquired image of you and Jiah's childhood tag-a-long. Rosie approached you with a picture pulled up on her phone.

"Look at him," she said with a smile, sliding the device into your hand.

You blinked at the picture on the screen. There he stood - much taller than you remembered - a girl under each arm, filling out a pair of ripped jeans, a black tank, and an ascot. A fringe brushed the tops of his eyes, while the top half of his dark waves were bound back in a little bun. His right arm was covered in tattoos. He was grinning from ear to ear, with that same toothy smile you had committed to memory.

"That's just crazy," you murmured, shaking your head, before handing Rosie's phone back to her.

"He's going to be thrilled to see you. I think he has a lot of happy memories from when you three were kids just banging around town together," Rosie remarked as she continued to sort the groceries.

You smiled to yourself. You certainly did. You glanced at your bags by the door.

"I guess I should get going," you murmured without conviction.

"Not yet, not until I've fed you," Rosie responded, not skipping a beat as she began to pile the ingredients for bibimbap on the kitchen island.

You smiled to yourself. Rosie to the rescue, as always.

"Okay, if you're gonna twist my arm," you sighed dramatically as you pulled up a stool on the other side of the kitchen island, followed by Jiah who grabbed the carrots and a peeler.

You reached for a huge zucchini squash and knife. Jiah shot you some side-eye.

"You're not getting out of telling us about the big debacle, you know. Time to 'fess up."

"Yep, spill," Rosie concurred as she prepped the rice cooker.

You heaved another sigh. Might as well get it over with, you thought. But for some reason, the words stuck in your throat, unable to come out. You looked at your hands, shaking as they tried to steady the knife over the squash. You couldn't do this. Not right now. Not yet.

You let the knife clatter to the cutting board and scrubbed your hands over your face.

"Y/n?" Jiah asked, leaning over to look at you, "Are you okay?"

You drew your hands from your face and looked up at her with tired eyes. She and Rosie had traded their teasing glances for expressions of concern. You gripped the edge of the counter to stop your stupid hands from trembling.

"It's really not a fun story, you guys," you said slowly, trying your best to sound casual, "You're not missing out."

Rosie reached over the kitchen island to clasp your hands.

"No worries, aebeolle. We can talk about it some other time. For now, just stick to slicing up this zucchini and forget about that other one!"

She shot you a wink as she cracked open a tupperware of marinated beef.

"Imo! My god!" Jiah protested with a grimace as you and Rosie burst into a fit of giggles.

It was all laughter and shots of soju and teasing Jiah about being a prude until you were gathered around the table with steaming bowls of goodness in front of you. Rosie closed her eyes and threw up rock-on signs with both hands.

"May Stevie Nicks bless this food," she murmured before snapping up her chopsticks to snag a mandu and pop it into her mouth.

You took a heaping bite of bibimbap, your whole body relaxing as the flavors and warmth returned you to a simpler time. Another wave of nostalgia washed over you as images of three little hungry kids fighting over the last piece of fried chicken replaced the scene before you. Your eyes wandered to the empty chair beside Rosie. There was a missing piece in the picture of comfort you had always found in the Jeon residence - a missing piece in the shape of round head bearing a pair of giant doe eyes that would light up when he'd win and water-up when he'd lose, and little short legs that ran faster than the longer ones, and a bright smile that was all innocence and central incisors.

You smiled fondly as long-dormant memories continued to appear like little spring flowers of the mind. Jungkook had perfectly completed your little trio, because though Jiah was your best friend, you and he had always understood each other in a way that came so easily. You didn't mind that everything brought him to tears, or that he invested himself so earnestly in even the smallest of his joys. You also didn't find it annoying that he wanted to tag along with the big kids, or that he hated being called a baby despite practically demanding to be treated as one. You knew in a way Jiah would only later realize that he was caught between wanting to grow up too quickly and not at all. It was the same battle between longings that waged war in your own heart, along with so many others who in some way had to raise themselves.

"How's the oi muchim?" Rosie's question roused you from your reverie.

"Amazing, like everything," you answered, waving your chopsticks over the spread of banchan.

"I made it a little spicier this time," the older woman said, sampling the cucumbers again herself. "Trying to get these staples just right before the new place opens."

"New place? Another store?" You asked, helping yourself to more sukju namul.

Rosie's eyes shone, a proud smile tugging at her lips as she gave her answer.

"A restaurant, actually."

Your jaw dropped.

"You're finally doing it!?"

Rosie leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, nodding at her niece.

"It's all Jiah's doing. She's taking care of all the logistics, I'm just figuring out the menu."

"Well, if you need help, I'm in between gigs at the moment," you added eagerly.

Rosie clapped her hands and wiggled in her chair.

"We would love the help! We've only just started hiring some staff. So far there's one person to wait tables and someone running the kitchen."

Jiah let out a huff. You quirked an eyebrow in her direction, and she appraised you with a look of wistful discouragement.

"Too bad you can't cook, or I'd boot him out tomorrow."

"Who?"

"The chef," she sneered.

"Speaking of, Jiah-ie," Rosie remarked over the food in her cheek, "How is Seokjin doing these days?"

The older woman chewed back a poorly concealed smirk as she glanced up at her niece, whose lips curled scornfully.

"One day, I'll kill him, I swear," she grumbled, shoveling rice into her mouth as if she was punishing it with every bite.

You glanced over at your friend, then at Rosie, who wiggled her eyebrows as she took a sip from her glass.

"Seokjin...not Kim Seokjin?" you asked.

"Yeeeeep," Jiah affirmed bitterly.

"He's a cook?"

Rosie nodded.

"And darn good at it. The only thing he's better at is pissing off this one right here," she remarked with a smirk as she gestured toward her glowering niece.

You smiled to yourself as Jiah started off on what would likely be a lengthy rant at the young man's expense. Seokjin, or Jin, as he was more commonly known, had attended the same small high school as you and Jiah. In a body of four-hundred students, everyone had played a well-known role - and while she had been the straight-laced valedictorian, he was the class clown. Natural enemies who found the other beyond comprehension, the bulk of the ire had always been on Jiah's side, while Jin had seemed to find her as amusing as he did inexplicable. The concept of the two of them attempting to run a business together was the stuff of sitcoms.

His ongoing feud with Jiah notwithstanding, it didn't really surprise you that he had tucked himself into the Jeons' life. His father owned most of the agricultural land in the surrounding area, and with his older brother having been slated since birth to take over the family empire, Jin had enjoyed a freedom of direction that found him often seeking out the phenomenon of being needed...and people always needed a laugh. But laughter is momentary, and Rosie, having the heart for strays that she did, always provided something more permanent.

"So now we're probably going to have to keep Jungkook at the store, because you know how they get when they're together," Jiah tiraded on.

"They don't get along anymore?" you asked, a bit crestfallen at the thought.

"The opposite," Rosie chuckled, "You put them in the same room and those dorks turn into a couple of puppies. They broke the back screen door roughhousing last Chuseok. Plowed right through it."

You snickered at the thought.

"But Jungkook is darn well gonna contribute while he's here," your friend asserted as she stood to clear the table, still on her agenda about the restaurant launch, "Not just cruise around finding pretty people to sketch between make-out sessions."

Rosie waved a hand dismissively.

"He's always willing to pitch in. But it's summer, and he's young, so don't you go all drill sergeant on him."

Jiah scoffed.

"Sure, it's summer, but there's a lot to get done between now and opening, and -"

"AND," Rosie interrupted, "I expect you to have some fun as well, young lady! Especially now that Y/n is back. You two better do a decent amount of carousing."

"Carousing?" Jiah asked with a grimace, directing horrified eyes in your direction.

You let out another laugh.

"She's got a point, Rosie. I don't think anyone has caroused in quite some time."

Rosie rolled her eyes, crossing to the sink and running the tap.

"Well," she rejoined, undeterred, "Whatever it is they're calling it these days, you two better be doing plenty of it! Give your imo some fun to live through vicariously, why don't you?"

Jiah shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And, you," she said, pointing a sudsy wooden spoon in your direction, "Should just stay here for the night. Take Jungkook's room. Then you can rest and be ready for...you know. Tomorrow."

You accepted the invitation with very little hesitation. It was a relief, and Rosie knew. She had always known. You shot a text to excuse your absence that you doubted was actually necessary and lugged your things down the hall and into the last bedroom on the left.

The rest of the night was spent stuffed onto the little couch with bowls of ice cream while the three of you shrieked and slapped each other's arms and kick your feet watching reruns of The Golden Girls. It was nearly midnight by the time you slipped under the sheets of the full-sized mattress in the smallest bedroom.

Though your eyes were heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but glance around at the walls and shelves, filled with scented candles, and action figures, Polaroids, and an incredible number of charcoal and graphite sketches. There were drawings of buildings, trees, cars, and people. And though there was little variation in color, the vitality and emotion that sparked along each line drew you from piece to piece. Your eyes drifted over a particular drawing - a girl's lower face - the tip of a nose, lips slightly parted, and her chin tilting upward. It might have been the delirium of your tired mind, but something about it seemed familiar. You stretched for a recollection just out of reach as you slipped past memory and into slumber.

Weight. The first thing you registered as your mind began to again become aware of its physical trappings was a heaviness. At first your hazy consciousness likened it to blankets, then to the heaviness of a sleep without dreams...safety...security...

And then something brushed the skin of your stomach under your shirt, drawing a hum out of you as your eyes fluttered open, and what they saw had you frozen in place. An arm. A large, muscular arm covered in dark ink was snaked around your waist, hand slipped under the hem of your sleep tee.

Fight or flight mode suddenly triggered, you snapped up and pushed yourself away from the body attached to the limb, letting out a shout as you kicked your legs, and only catching a glimpse of dark hair and grey sweatpants as the intruder rolled off the bed and hit the carpet with a loud thud. You jumped off the other side of the bed before you could think, tangling your legs in sheets that brought you tumbling down onto your ass. Before you could thrash free of the bedding, a groaning figure peered with large, dark eyes from the other side of the bed. Dark, wild waves framing his sleepy head like a halo, and wide, round eyes still bleary with sleep, the young man passed tattooed hand over his mouth to wipe the remnants of drool away as he blinked at you from across the room.

"J...Jungkook?!" you choked out in surprise and confusion, struggling to your feet.

"You kicked me..." he groaned, his features taking on an injured look as he stooped to rub his thigh.

"Why...when..."

"Imo told me to wake you up for breakfast," he pouted.

You scrubbed your hands over your eyes. Same damn baby-faced expression. Huge, bulky man. With tattoos...and a lip ring? This Pokémon had leveled up. Maybe twice. And that was all your brain could register as your heart rate descended from two hundred beats per minute and the heavy fog of an interrupted sleep cycle began to dissipate. You tossed the sheet back onto the bed, and as your eyes flicked back to his face you noticed his had dropped a little lower. Registering with horror that you were in a thin cotton nightshirt with nothing underneath, you snatched up the sheet again, clutching it to your chest. What the fuck was happening?

"Rosie told you to wake me up, so you decided to spoon me?" You asked incredulously as your embarrassment quickly morphed into agitation.

Jungkook's eyes widened as they flew up to yours, seemingly caught off guard by the edge in your tone.

"No, noona...it wasn't like that!" he said, standing to his full height, his brow creasing defensively.

He was pretty fucking tall. His white tee and grey sweats did little to hide the fact that he was also pretty fucking big. Exasperated by these unbidden acknowledgements that had your brain buffering, you snapped a little again.

"Then what was it like? You had your hand up my shirt, Kook!"

Your voice had unintentionally softened at his nickname, and he caught it, biting back a grin as you hugged the sheet over you just a little more snugly.

"It was kind of your fault, noona," he smirked, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

You shot him a quizzical and unamused look.

"I came in here to wake you up and you pulled me into bed. You kept calling me someone else's name...and..." he giggled, "'Baby', and you kept insisting we sleep for just five more minutes."

You gaped at him in horror.

"You pulled my arm over you," he continued, now a bit smugly, "And I had literally just woken up, so...being so comfy...well, I guess I fell back to sleep with you."

You could feel the heat in your face. You had a history of pretty intense sleep talking, but you hadn't experienced it to that extent in years. You considered that you must have slept deeply as you stammered your apology.

"Oh my god, Jungkook...I'm so sorry - that's horrifying - I didn't mean to..."

The younger man just laughed in response, breaking into his signature luminous smile. His eyes glimmered.

"Didn't mean to steal my bed, demand cuddles, and then beat the heck out of me?"

You let out a sigh.

"Sorry."

He nodded, a little smile still tugging at his lips.

"I accept your apology for the bruises...but not the cuddles. Those were nice."

He threw a wink over his shoulder as he headed for the door, and you tossed a pillow and a string of expletives after him as he jogged, giggling, toward the kitchen. Still flustered and a bit thrown, you changed into real clothes before joining the others in the breakfast table. Rosie was placing mayak eggs alongside the piles of bacon and pancakes as you pulled out a chair next to Jiah.

"You slept well! You must have been exhausted," Rosie remarked, handing you a mug of coffee.

"Yeah, must have," Jungkook quipped with a smirk as he snagged three strips of bacon.

You shot him a warning look as you stabbed demonstratively into a stack of pancakes, but his grin only deepened.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be back until the weekend," you addressed him coolly.

"Mm," he took a sip of orange juice. "I actually wasn't really supposed to be back until next week. I expected to head north to see a friend but she ended up being out of town, so I just came straight back."

"A friend, huh?" Jiah crooned patronizingly, as she twirled a fork in his direction.

Her brother nodded.

"The same one you were talking to on the phone very loudly when you came in last night?"

Jungkook scrunched his nose, sticking out the tip of his tongue in her direction.

"Wow," she drawled, "How very adult of you. And for the record, friends don't call each other 'baby'."

Jungkook snickered, glancing at you again before he mumbled, "Some friends do..."

"So, Jiah - " you practically shouted, as you turned toward her in a desperate bid to change the topic of conversation, "You gonna show me the new place today, or what?"

"The restaurant? If you let her drag you out there, she'll put you to work and you'll never be seen again," Jungkook hummed over an entire egg that he had pocketed in his cheek, casting teasing eyes up at his sister, who smiled back wickedly.

"You know, Kookie, it's just so good to have you home! We needed someone who puts in those gym hours to do a bit of the heavy lifting."

Jungkook flashed another smile, puffing his chest and massaging his pectorals as Jiah feigned a gag.

You chuckled, and Jungkook grinned as he tucked into his pancakes.

Watching the two of them bicker and catch up, you realized that things felt a bit more whole again - familiar, if different. You considered that maybe the three of you could all fall back into stride. Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all.

After breakfast you gathered your things to head next door. You tried to slip out quietly, to avoid Rosie stalling you any further, but Jungkook caught you as he was coming around from the garage, an oil towel in his grease-stained hands.

"You leaving?" he asked with a tinge of disappointment.

"I can't over-stay my welcome," you shrugged, smiling wryly.

His face took on a serious expression.

"You know you're always welcome here, yeah? It's good to have you back," he pressed earnestly.

You nodded, touched because you knew he meant it and that the other two members of his family shared the same sentiment. Jungkook wiped his hands on the towel casting a look over at the house next door.

"You staying there?"

You nodded. His brow creased and the corners of his mouth turned down.

"Okay. You can come here whenever."

"I know," you said softly.

His eyes looked worried and uncertain. You dropped your bag and pulled him into a hug.

"It's so good to see you again, Jungkook-ah," you murmured, dropping your head against his chest.

His arms squeezed around you in return. He had always preferred to talk with his body instead of his words. Every playful punch, or little shove, or squeeze of his hand carried a message. This one meant it was good to see you too.

As you waved goodbye you counted the Jeons' welcome among your blessings - not everything you had left behind would be so welcome to recall. But, life hadn't left you with many choices. So you began the long walk to the house next door.

-End Chapter 1-

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afhamhoney · 2 years ago

Text

Freak Show

"He was looking for a purpose, She became one"

Pairing: Non-Idol Jungkook x Named Reader

Summary: Her life was never simple or peacful. She was used to steel glimpses of happiness here and there. Yet she still was able to save him first.

TW: Will be shared separately each chapter.

The theater's atmosphere felt erie as we walked through the old large wooden doors. The floor kept creaking bneath our feet and the sound of our small heels' clicking is echoing around us. It was already past five at night, the sun was already fading and only giving faint light through the cracks of the rusty old windows. No lights were on yet and judging by the emptiness of the seats around us, it looks like we might have arrived a little bit earlier that expected.

" Shouldn't have they renewed the place before the opening show!" Sadie said, walking through the tiny steps of stairs while we were heading for the front seats.

"It kind of gives the place a whole different vibe you know. Maybe that was their theme goal". I replied, while diverting my eyes between the huge ceiling and the balcon seats above on both sides of the theater. Everything about this place was unsettling and there was this voice at the back of my head that kept on telling me to just turn around, take Sadie's hand and get the fuck out of here.

"Something feels off and ...." Sadie's said but before she completed her sentence, she was interuptted by the loud sound of the doors closing. I already knew she would be demanding us to leave but something was compeling me to stay and just watch the show.

And before I started to argue or prove my point, she held my hand and started pushing me towrds the end of the theater and to the direction of the huge wooden doors.

"What are you doing Sadie, We are not going home now." I argued with angry whispers not wanting to add more echos to this place.

"This doesn't look or feel right and we are not risking our safety to watch a freaking circus show." Sadie hissed at me while trying to put some sense in my brain but it was not working. Because no amount of danger that I might face here would be matching to what I go home to everyday. A haunted theater or a freak show will be at the very end of the list of my fears.

"Grow up Sadie, this is just an old building rented by a local troupe to perform for only one week. What renovations are you expecting them to do to this place, make it a Moulin Rouge?" I fought back with a reasonable argument while having the same doubts myself. But still no freak show could have been compared to the one I had at home and no harm could have occured that night, would have been more painful to the already angry bruises attended were forming on my body. "Let's just stay for a little while to see what is the hype about and then leave !"

"Okay but the seconsd this gets any weirder I will drag your ass across the stairs and through that door. You get me?" And before I got the chance to reply to her, the huge chandlier above us came back to life and lightened the whole place as if the sun were to explod inside. Dozen of stage spots started turning on as well indicating the start of the show. We moved from the corridor to take our seats in the third row of the theater, all while my eyes were roaming around the place and were only greeted by the dozens of empty seats accross the huge hall.

How come with all the posters and propaganda that has been going for a whole week prior to the show, we happened to be the only ones who actually attended.

With no further due, the large stage curtains opened to reveal a huge empty stage with only one spotlight targeting the middle on a statue of man sitting in a wooden chair. The statue resembled a man of young age with short dark hair,non blinking dark brown eyes that stared directly into my sole. The statue was so well made that you wouldn't be able to differentiate it from an actual human being.

We waited for somthing to happen but nothing did. Ten solid minutes had already passed with no other movement on stage and with a very angry and fidgeting sadie right next to me. Yet I was so captivated by the beauty of the art standing before me under the light. I kept staring back at those eyes while wondering how can human hands create something so realistic. I was in a trance like status to the extent that I completley missed Sadie leaving my side and was only drawn back to consciousness by the sound of my ragged cell's notification from Sadie telling me that she had to head outside to reply to her parents and tell them her whereabouts.

I tucked the phone back again my pockets and stood up while heading directly for the stage. Every waking cell in body was telling me to turn around and head for the door and leave, but my feet had another decision. It was like I was not thinking straight or maybe not thinking at all. All I wanted to do was get closer and closer to him as much as possible. The more I stared at him the more he became more real and I swear to the heavens that I felt him blink at some point. My feet dragged me closer to the stage till I found myself at the side stairs. With no ounce of thought, I climbed those five crumbling steps and landed my feet on the wooden floor of the stage. I started to go slower, contemplating if I should get any more closer than this, but I was enchanted with that figure. I wanted to have a closer look on how something was so beautifully created resembling the human true form so much. He almost looked even more real as I was getting closer.

I stood face to face with him and was unable to form any type of coherant thought or word. It seemed like all my surroundings were a mere useless propes and he was the center of my existence. I kept staring in those brown eyes as if I was being hypnotized, studying how they drew the flicker of lights with such accuracy to where the actual lights were hitting. The sculptural of this amazing statue must be worshiped for creating such an amazing piece. I couldn't hold myself from raising my hands to graze the skin of his face. He was truly beautiful and defenitly a reality somewhere as no human imgaination could have created such exquisite features.

He was whimpering inside but there was no sound coming out of him. The minute she stepped her feet inside the theater he felt different, like a jolt of electricity rippling through his body. Watching her taking small steps with her friend through the theater hall, and listening to her angelic voice arguying to stay and watch the show was amusing. Too bad for her there was no show to begin with. This was not an actual circus and this was not an actual carnival. It was a cover up for him to be able to travel through small towns and meet as many people as he could get in order to break the curse. He had no idea what he was looking for and how that curse was to be broken. He had no idea if he needed to have a beauty confessing her undying love to him so he can be normal again. If this is the case, he will be eternaly doomed, trapped inside this statue as a body while going insane everyday. But that bitch of a witch never mentioned a revese curse or a potion or any type of instructions to get him out of his hell. All she did was telling him to meet as much people as he can and one day he will find it.

He had been searching for this "IT" for the past thirty years and still to no avail. He spent weeks and months in silence while he witnessing his team of servants raveshing the books of all libraries and coming up with every possible solution but nothing ever worked. Yet one look at her face and he felt like he can break those stones covering his body just to reach for her.

Again it was not enough and he had never felt more useless and paralyzed. Taking his static state to his advantage, he studied every inch of her face. Haulting to a stop at the mere sight of the purple brusis decorating the area beneath her collar bones. Coming to stand facing him, he was almost certain he found what he had been looking for. For after feeling her delicate fingure tips touching the skin of his face, he forgot all about the curse and the reason he was there. He wanted to close his eyes and just drown in her senses. She was the only one who were brave enough and got close to him, let alone touch him.

At that moment, he had this revelation that It was not love he was seeking, nor reason, purpose or a magical potion, it was just....

His thoughts were interupted by a loud bang on the wooden doors and an angry man storming inside the theater while yelling....

"GRACE".

....................................................................................................................................................................

Author`s note: This is just a trial of something I've had in my mind for a while. This is the teaser and will be writing and updating weekly if you like it.

#jungkook smut #jk smut #bts smut #bts #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #fanfic #random #romance #jk fanfic #jk fic #bts fanfic #love story #jungkook reader #fic rec #freak show #Spotify

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