➬ Summary | When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.
↳ Pairings | Jungkook x reader / Namjoon x reader
↳ Genre | Soulmate!au, Second Chances!au, Angst, Eventual Smut
There is nothing that Namjoon despises more than waking up to a warm morning with vicious throbbing happening inside his head.
The ache feels so potent that he can hear the sound of each throb echoing against his temple. He can even feel it all the way to his toes, feel how the world seems to move with it even when he is still lying in bed, unmoving. The kind of feeling that is completely unwelcome that he dreads opening his eyes.
He may not have always been a morning person, but Namjoon isn’t someone who would find himself in this predicament during a regular weekday, jeopardising what should have been a normally productive day for him. For years, Namjoon has maintained an image of himself where he is in complete control of his own self and need, always knows how to keep his composure in any given situation possible.
And yet, for the first time, he finds himself breaking all the rules and habits that he has created for himself. He can feel that contentment and control slipping out of his fingers only because he gave in to his sorrow. Even his body feels as if it is no longer his own, when every move he makes becomes a struggle and whatever he does only escalates it further.
Fucking hangover.
The entire room seems to tilt over whenever he tries to get up, while the spinning still doesn’t stop even when he closes his eyes to put everything to a halt, just like how he feels his world tilting and spinning in all directions. And it has been this way ever since the night he saw you at Bovine.
When his headache becomes too much, Namjoon gives up on trying and falls back on the bed. So far, his memory is a bit fuzzy and unclear. But as the pulsing headache slowly becomes numb, and just when he is not forcing himself to remember, they simply return to him, random bits and pieces of what had happened—starting from the night before to all day yesterday and then ending on the events unfolding just last night—come flooding back to him.
He remembers coming home late from the studio two nights ago, pissed at himself and feeling incredibly frustrated after his encounter with Jungkook that he decided to grab a bottle of liquor to soothe his uneasiness and wash down the aggravation that followed him home. Things didn’t turn better the next day, when he heard nothing from Jungkook and after he found out that his friend didn’t even make it to work.
Feeling lost, and distraught, thinking that Jungkook might have decided to spend the day with you to salvage and find some reassurance in his relationship with you, Namjoon spent the entire day being holed up inside his home, wallowing in his misery with the collection of liquors that he had kept in his home. He must have passed out or fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he realised, he had lost an entire day as it went past him. It was a miracle that he didn’t poison himself with all that alcohol, though he did remember stopping once in a while and the short naps he had in between helped him sober up each time. And yet even as time went by, even after all the effort that he had done to wash everything away with those liquors, the unsettling feeling inside his chest still lingered, as if it had been rooted so deeply inside him ever since the moment he had the talk with Jungkook.
It was sometime around sundown when he was awakened from another nap by the quick call that his assistant made to him from the lobby, notifying him about a guest who had come asking for him. The nap did so little to sober him up, and yet he made it to reach the front door, even with a few struggles as he tried not to stumble or fall over the coffee table on his way there.
The urgency of the phone call and how his assistant had stressed that he needed to hurry made him think that perhaps there was an emergency, something so urgent that he needed to deal with that nobody else could. He clearly was not expecting to find that the surprise guest that his assistant had sent to his door would be you.
It had taken him quite some time to process what he was seeing. At first, he had thought that he was dreaming when he saw you standing right outside of his home not too long after he was mulling over his situation with you. But then you charged at him, shoving him in anger and the pain he felt in his chest was enough to let him know that it was real. And he took every single thing you were throwing at him—every punch you gave to his chest and every word you screamed at him—so willingly. Because even in his haze, he still knew that he was responsible for everything that was happening.
That he was the reason why you were here.
And then you broke down right in front of him, and he nearly fell down with you when seeing you in that state had made him feel weak. Even now, as he is struggling to recover from his hangover, the dread that he felt from that moment still lingers inside him.
Once he feels steady enough to sit up, Namjoon leans back against the headrest, rubbing his palm across his bare chest as he can still feel the ghost of your touch that he had gotten from the moment you pushed him away and the fading warmth that he felt when he took you in his arms. The pain that you had inflicted on him was nothing compared to what he is feeling inside, though he knows now that he was also far too numb to feel anything last night compared to how raw he is feeling everything now.
But does he have a right to complain when he knows that you might be feeling more pain after what had happened? When what you had experienced had been too unbearable for you to deal with that not even his touch or his embrace had been enough to fix you.
That was why he had accepted everything that you gave him. Because he understood. And he took you in his arms because he understood how much you needed someone to hold you up and keep you from falling. Even if he couldn’t erase your pain, he knew that he had to offer you what he could give you then.
Although it doesn’t exactly justify what he did next.
It is the feeling of rage and disappointment that he has in himself that forces him to get up and leave his bed. He wastes no time and quickly freshens up, getting himself ready to face the repercussions as he marches out of his bedroom with the constant throbbing in his head accompanying every step he makes.
As he trots down his empty and silent home to reach the kitchen, Namjoon’s eyes linger on the locked door of the guest bedroom, the only other room in his penthouse that has rarely been used. Knowing what is waiting from the other side of the bedroom door gives him a sense of longing, even if he knows that he doesn’t deserve to even hope that something good may happen. Looking away from the room, his gaze falls on the foyer instead, right at the corner where he held you tight last night in his arms, holding you as an anchor that kept you from falling apart.
When he closes his eyes, he can still sense everything from that moment. Your warmth, the scent of your shampoo, the way you fit perfectly in his arms and how right it felt when you laid your head on his shoulder. That moment had been short, and yet it was still enough to make him feel complete. He felt as if his soul was awakened then, as if there had been a huge hole inside him that he kept carrying with him for years and you had managed to fill it so easily just by falling into his arms.
He had welcomed that feeling, just as he had welcomed his punishment from you. And he still remembers promising himself not to let you go, that he would always hold you up the same way, that he would never take any of it for granted just as long as he could keep you in his arms for as long as he could.
If only he didn’t royally fuck up right after, and let every chance of making it happen to slip away from his hands almost too soon.
Tormented by his guilt, Namjoon becomes determined to make things right. But first, he needs to make sure that he would do it while sober and that he would do everything the right way. While he has the coffee brewing on the kitchen counter, he picks up the phone and contacts the staff to take that first step of redeeming himself.
“Yes, sir?”
Namjoon clears his throat and keeps his voice low when he responds to his assistant. “Can you have the cook send out a complete breakfast set to my loft, please?”
“Anything specific, sir?”
Thinking and talking only worsen the ache lingering in his head. Closing his eyes, he presses his fingers on the bridge of his nose to try and stop his headache from rapidly increasing. “Nothing—just get me today’s special and some fresh fruit,” he says before quickly adding, “Make that two sets of everything.”
A movement catches his attention just as he ends the phone call, and he looks over to the guest bedroom and finds you standing in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in a headlight with your eyes looking around warily and your fingers fidgeting, as if you need to hold onto something to stop yourself from falling down again.
But what has his chest grow tight is the sight of you wearing his t-shirt, how it seems to be hanging loose on your body and its hem falling on your thighs. And he cannot deny how good it makes him feel to see you wearing something of his. The possessiveness that is building up inside him is driving him crazy, even more than how alcohol had driven his sanity to nothing but an intangible mess when he was supposed to be in control, even if it was only to offer support when you had most needed one.
His heartbeat starts pacing rapidly as he looks at your face and catches your eyes looking back at him, and more images from last night come rushing back to him. Not only for the comfortable warmth that he felt when he was holding you, but also for the cold realisation of how hurtful his actions had been to you last night.
“Perhaps it is a good thing that he is gone. Have you forgotten? You were supposed to be mine. Always have been.”
The dick comment that came out of his mouth makes him wince when he remembers ever voicing it out loud. He should have been consoling you instead of being a jackass about it and acted as if he was celebrating while you were in pain.
Namjoon would never be able to forget your reaction that came right after he said those things to you—the crestfallen look that took up your entire face, the pain in your eyes that became clear to him when they widened in shock after hearing his words, and how you pulled back so quickly, leaving Namjoon feeling mesmerised and too stunned to notice what you were about to do until it was too late. He didn’t realise what was happening until your palm landed right on his cheek and the sound of the loud slap you had landed on his face echoed through the foyer. He didn’t realise what had happened until his skin stung and the horrified gasp you made snapped him out of his shock.
Just as he recounts that very moment, his hand comes up to his cheek, touching the numbing pain on his skin. He is not entirely sure which one hurts the most—the slap of your palm that seems to linger or the constricting pain inside his chest that keeps rising and building when he tried to imagine what you were feeling then. But then everything comes to a halt once he looks at you again, the sight of you being engulfed in his oversized shirt and the knowledge that you had slept on his bed seems to calm his restless soul.
You clear your throat, looking flustered as you avoid his gaze while you remain standing there. “I think I should go…,” you murmur softly with a hoarse voice. “I know that I’ve overstayed my welcome. I shouldn’t have stayed anyway.”
“I was the one who offered. I couldn’t let you leave in the state that you were in last night,” Namjoon quickly says, wincing when he remembers how that night had ended. How right after you slapped him and while he was stunned into silence, you had somehow realised that he had been drunk when he opened the door for you, and how it pushed you to go around his kitchen and living room to find the missing bottle of liquor that he had left behind. His chest tightens when he recalls how you had then grabbed the bottle and started drinking your pain away, and how he couldn’t stop himself when—
Clearing his throat, Namjoon shakes the thoughts away and forces a smile. “And I don’t believe you are ready to go either. Why don’t you stay a bit longer and take your time until you settle down? At least stay for coffee and join me for breakfast. Maybe we can start all over and then later on, if you’d let me, I can lend my ear to listen or my shoulder to cry on if you want to.”
You open your mouth—ready to refuse him, no doubt—but stop yourself when you look conflicted. Knowing that you are at least considering it, Namjoon jumps at the chance and asks again,
“Please. It’s the least that I could do,” he says, quickly biting on his tongue to stop himself from saying, ’—after acting like such a schmuck to you last night.’
“We haven’t had a chance to talk either, have we? For us to talk properly, I mean, and without yelling at each other and while we are both sober,” he adds later on, drawing a smile to your face when you seem to realise that he is right. Namjoon’s lips turn to a wry smile when he realises that he had wasted the last few chances he had to talk to you before, how it had always ended with the both of you yelling hurtful things to each other instead of trying to figure out how to deal with the situation.
“Okay,” you whisper after a moment of silence, much to his relief, though he is still surprised that you would agree with him. Your gaze flickers toward the coffee machine as you sigh, before you meet his gaze again. “But I should probably freshen up real quick. Would you mind if I use the shower?” you ask him as you tilt your head towards the en-suite bathroom inside the room you had been sleeping in.
“By all means, help yourself,” Namjoon says with a genuine smile on his face, trying his best to hold back from adding—
Everything in this place will also be yours anyway. All of it.
It took you about 30 minutes to finish washing up.
Though it might have been more. You just know that you have lost track of time as you indulged in the luxury that the marvellous hot shower inside Namjoon’s en-suite bathroom had provided you.
It had not been your intention to stay that long in the shower, but after spending the first five minutes admiring his spacious guest bathroom and its entire fancy setup, it took you another five minutes filled with a lengthy pep talk about how much you deserved to enjoy this moment after what you have gone through before you could finally step into the shower. And you were soon filled with relief that you had talked yourself into taking it when you realised how good it felt as the hot water came running down your body. It almost felt like everything was being washed away—your fear, your pain, whatever was left from last night’s debacle—while the falling water felt more like magical fingers massaging your tense muscles until you could slowly relax. It had been too good and it felt like such a waste to step out early that you stayed longer than you should have, and you had only left when the hot water seemed to cool down and once your stomach began to protest, begging for breakfast.
After coming here completely on impulse and without carrying any personal belongings other than your small purse, you had worried about not having anything to change into. You can only sigh in defeat at the thought of the clothes that you were wearing yesterday turning into a complete mess after spilling some alcohol on yourself at some point following your impulsive act of barging into his home—hence why Namjoon had let you wear his t-shirt when it was somehow decided that you were staying for the night.
You had settled to the thought of wearing your dirty clothes again after your relaxing shower, telling yourself that you would only need to wear them on your way home anyway. But as you step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fuzzy towel that you had found in the vanity earlier, you are surprised to find a pair of grey sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt left on the bed for you.
Taking no time to dress up, you bite down the smile that keeps trying to sneak its way to your face from thinking about how thoughtful he turns out to be. It feels like a complete turnaround after seeing the side of him that he had shown you last night, knowing that he cares enough to figure out about these things before you could.
The lavish breakfast setup and the scent of freshly brewed coffee welcome you when you walk out of the bedroom. For some reason, they bring some sense of warmth into Namjoon’s home, when all you had felt ever since you walked into this place has been nothing but hollowness. The place had seemed cold and so unfamiliar that it took you a lot of effort to feel comfortable when you laid to sleep last night. Seeing the vacant dining seats, you turn to find him standing all the way in the living room, looking out the massive window to watch over the city as it comes to life.
“This is a lot. Were you trying to feed an army?” you comment loudly before you can stop it, gaining his attention as he turns away from the window to look at you. The moment you meet his gaze, the smile on your face just comes to rise so easily, much to your surprise. And his, judging from the way he blinks rapidly as if he cannot believe what he is seeing. “Thank you for the clothes, by the way. I was already preparing myself to get through the day with the same clothes I was wearing yesterday.”
Namjoon smiles and shakes his head. “I thought you’d want something more comfortable to wear to make you feel better after that shower,” he says while making his way to you. The movement seems so natural that it almost feels like he is used to doing this—that he is used to having you here in his home. But Namjoon is quick to catch himself before getting too close, swiftly stopping and going around the table, taking the seat across from the one you are standing close to and putting the necessary distance between the two of you. “Come sit and eat with me.”
For a moment, you still feel hesitant to take his offer. Sitting here at the dining table with him seems too intimate, too soon, and too confusing. But there is something in his presence and in his words that seem to compel you into moving, eliminating every excuse that you could think of to escape as you easily slip into the empty chair right across from him without so much of a word.
The breakfast starts with silence, and for some reason, it feels oddly comfortable rather than it is being awkward to share this moment with him even when you barely know him. Things continue this way until Namjoon clears his throat and speaks first. “I want to apologise,” he starts, stopping briefly until you pay attention to him so he can continue, “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, that was wrong of me. I won’t even justify my condition as it happened. I was drunk and caught off guard with the situation, but none of those things should give me the excuse to be an asshole.”
Your lips curl up to a small smile before you can stop yourself. “So you do realise that you were being an asshole?”
Namjoon scoffs in response to your teasing, though his shoulders sag in relief somewhat when you merely joke about it instead of yelling at him like how he seemed to have expected you to. “It’s quite hard not to,” he says with a shrug while giving you a remorseful smile that seems genuine. “I shouldn’t have said such a thing when you were going through so much already. Your life had changed irrevocably in the span of, what—hours?—after years of living in the stability which you had built with Jungkook as a huge part of your life. While it sucks for me to think about it, I understood. And it was way out of line for me to say such a thing when what you needed was someone to hold you up while you were falling.”
Once again, you are stunned speechless. His apology was something that you had expected to hear, but you had initially thought that he would simply say “I’m sorry” and then be done with it. And yet here he is, giving you such a lengthy apology and looking so terribly sincere with every word he says that you feel warmth blooming in your chest. There is also something else tugging within you as he was speaking, something that has your heart pumping and coming alive.
“You’re forgiven. For now,” you whisper to him as you return his gaze. With a sigh, you shake your head and murmur softly, “It must’ve been a shock to you when I came here unannounced, and to top it all, I created a scene—” you stop for a moment and your gaze flicker towards the living room, where the ‘scene’ from last night had happened. You wince when you remember how unruly your behaviour had been and add, “—and made a whole mess at your home when you probably wanted to have some alone time. And for that, I owe you an apology too.”
Instead of taking it, Namjoon only shakes his head. “There is no need for that. You were frustrated and needed someone to yell at. Someone you could put the blame on for everything that had gone down and I had been the most eligible bastard who deserved it, so I’m not going to blame you to take that opportunity when you could,” he says with a smile, drawing a chuckle out of you. But then he lowers his gaze, and the look that he is giving you is filled with concern as he watches you from under his eyelids. “Not to mention—it wouldn’t be fair for you to deal with this on your own when I have just as much part in this as you are.”
With his words reminding you of what had happened, the pain returns inside your chest, and you swallow hard to stop it from becoming stronger before it takes away your calm just when you finally start feeling better. Saying nothing about it, you lower your head and nod. “I didn’t know where I should run to,” you whisper, admitting how lost you had felt when Jungkook left. “And you were right, the moment I found out that Jungkook had learned everything from you, I acted out of instinct and rushed out here to—”
You look up at him just then, finding him lifting his eyebrows when you fail to finish your sentence. “To do what?” he asks, speaking softly and teasingly at the same time. “To punish me? To punch my face and release your anger?”
“All of the above, I suppose,” you answer him, allowing a shy grin to take over your face when he simply does the same. Although the grin quickly fades when your gaze falls onto his cheek, seeing the slightly pinkish shade on his skin which seems to take its time to fade and feeling the tingle on your palm that returns when you remember what you had done.
“I’m sorry, though. For assaulting you last night,” you start to apologise. Your cheeks are beginning to feel warm when you think about how reckless you had been, but you disguise it when you lift your hand and point it at him. “You know, the uhm—” you say to him, stopping to wave a hand at his cheek. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”
Namjoon laughs. “I already told you, I deserved it,” he says with a dimpled smile that has your heartbeat going so fast it nearly takes your breath away with it.
Your gazes lock to one another for a brief moment, and the air around you seems to sizzle. It prickles on your skin and makes your cheeks grow hot that you instantly look away to cease whatever it is that seems to be building between you. It is the connection, your conscience continues to remind you, but you deny it by simply ignoring it, refusing to acknowledge it for the sake of keeping it from becoming real. Thankfully, Namjoon no longer pays attention to you since the moment you severed that connection, already has his eyes on his phone as he continues to finish his simple meal, unaware that you now have your eyes on him again.
Your eyes linger on his face for a moment, silently taking him in while you have the chance to. The memory you have had of him from college and the pictures you have seen over the past few years have done no justice to what you are seeing up close. If you had thought that Jungkook is a perfect specimen of a human being, then Namjoon is—well, a different kind of perfect. While you have no intention of comparing him with your missing fiancé, there is no helping it when you keep seeing Jungkook’s face inside your head while you have your gaze on this man.
The one thing that you love about Jungkook is the soft features he has on his face even when his body is all firm and strong, but with Namjoon, everything about him is all hard, and all male. From the sharp lines on his face to his hard chest—you still remember how he felt under your palms when he pressed you against him—and his strong arms that made you feel small when he held you in his embrace.
As much as you hate to admit it, there is simply no way that you could possibly deny the attraction that is slowly beginning to sink in before you ever had the chance to realise it. When did it happen? Was it an instant pull, right when the soulmate bond snapped into place the night Namjoon’s mark appeared on his wrist? Or did it happen last night, right after you unleashed your anger on him and then you—
Your gaze trails down to find his lips, and almost instinctively the tingles start appearing on your lips just as you are once again taken back to last night, when in the middle of your frenzy, right when your mind was still clouded in the thick haze of your heartbreak and while you were slowly losing all control against the soulmate pull that your body simply—gave in. Right at that moment, you close your eyes, hoping that it would be enough to erase the flashing image of what happened in your blunder, only to feel your stomach dip when you fail and the memory returns.
Why did I have to kiss him?
You reach up and press your fingers on your lips, hoping to wipe the sensation away. But even as you try to do it by brushing your fingers across your lips, you can still feel it coming back to you each time the memory returns, and every single time it happens, your chest tightens with guilt.
It wasn’t that the kiss had been intended. Your emotions had been completely out of control, and the strong alcohol that you had drunk in the desperate need of erasing your pain must have clouded your judgement. You faintly remember Namjoon rushing to stop you from finishing his bottle, yet it only caused your rage to rise further, and you pushed him away while calling him names and accusing him to be petty and selfish for not wanting to share his drink. And when he finally caught your arm and glared at you to reprimand you, when the shove you gave against his chest wasn’t strong enough to draw him away, you ended up grabbing him by his collars and pulled him down until you could press your lips on his.
The kiss was meant to be brief, just something to shut him up because half of your mind had been thinking of smacking his lips with your palm and it was almost as if your body simply decided that using your lips would be a better idea. Clearly, your mind had already short-circuited just then to react so impulsively before you even realised what you were doing.
Despite the numbness and everything about last night that had become nothing but blurry fragments of moments, you still remember everything about the kiss. You still remember how his body stiffened when you reached out and pulled him down and how he was unmoving for a moment when you pressed your lips on his. You still remember how soft and tender his lips had felt when he began to reciprocate and pressed them against yours instead of pulling away, how he took over and seized control until your head spun with delight.
And you cannot deny the fact that your body came alight upon contact and how the tingles kept rising in the heat of the kiss, how it felt just as intoxicating as the drinks that you stole from him that you kept leaning in when he started to deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in while his hands pulled you closer to him. But the worse part of it all is the fact that instead of pushing him away, you simply relished the way your whole body was burning from the inside and out.
Thinking about it now makes your cheeks burn and your body heats up once more, but you shake it away. You had tried to convince yourself that it would be better for you to forget that it ever happened and move on. But now that he had put everything out in the open, after both of you had been so willing to own up to your mistakes, that decision simply flies out the window and you give in to the guilt that you are feeling inside.
Lowering your head to hide your burning face, you murmur to him, “Then I’m sorry for kissing you. That was—for the lack of a better word, completely inappropriate.” Unsurprisingly, hearing this only makes his smile grow wider, the dimples on his cheeks deepen when he chuckles so pleasingly as if he enjoys seeing you so flustered.
“I’m honestly not too sorry about it,” he softly says, and you almost swear that your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, most specifically when he slowly lifts his intense gaze to yours. You try to act like his words have no effect on you, but you doubt that you can hide it well when a grin comes onto his face. “But all is forgiven. Neither of us had been in our right minds when it happened.”
His words should be giving you some sense of relief, and yet again, your body reacts differently, when a rush of warmth engulfs you. It makes it even harder to deny it when both his words and the way he is looking at you are making you feel—wanted,even if you know that it is only coming from the bond you have between you and nothing else.
Nothing like what you share with Jungkook.
You say nothing to respond to his words, then simply turn away to enjoy your coffee so you would stop getting drawn to his intense gaze. “I don’t remember seeing you cook and there is no traces left in the kitchen showing me that you prepared breakfast while I was in the shower. Except for the coffee. Do you have staff helping you with all of this?” you ask him once another moment of silence settles in, choosing to change the topic just so you can stop thinking about the kiss again, which happens whenever your mind is idle.
Namjoon smiles bashfully. “I do. The staff belongs to the exclusive floors in this building, though. My boss, the benefactor behind the recording company, owns this building, and the staff is always on standby just in case we need anything. They always send me breakfast in the morning. All I had to do was ask for some extra portions so I can have you join me this morning.”
“You must have done it often, haven’t you? Invite someone to stay the night, feed them with lavish breakfast in the morning to woo them—” You have no idea where this thought had come from or what you are trying to accomplish by saying them out loud. And you certainly have not expected to feel a pang of jealousy for picturing all those women he had taken photos with sitting on this very same table with him, possibly in a more intimate way. You clutch onto your cold glass of water to stop yourself from pressing your palm onto your chest, right where the sting is coming from, though the feeling is quick to be replaced with guilt.
Because if knowing that he had shared his life with others before hurts you, even knowing that all he had gone through had been nothing more but short term relationships or flings, then how had he felt when he had to watch you with Jungkook?
“You may not believe me,” Namjoon speaks after clearing his throat, and you lift your eyes to find him looking straight at you so intensely that it makes you shudder in your seat. “But I’ve never invited anyone to stay the night here, or have the staff cook for them. Except for my family, of course.”
“Really? Not even your past girlfriends?”
You immediately regret asking him this when a spark of mirth comes to his eyes. When he seems intrigued at the fact that you are asking him about his past love life.
“How did you know that I’ve been with anyone else before?”
Gritting your teeth, you bite back the response that might end up with you confessing to him that you have been keeping up with his life over the past few years. It didn’t happen often, and not always on purpose either, when his photos just basically appeared even when you were not searching for anything related to him. With a forced smile, you simply answer him with, “Lucky guess. After all, you have always had a date clinging to your arms on the two occasions we met. Surely, it wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume that there are others in between.”
Namjoon blinks. Whether or not he believes you is not really your problem, though you are surprised to see a mix of shock and guilt in his eyes for a brief moment—and maybe a semblance of shame—before everything fades in the next blink. However, he still keeps his eyes on you when he says, “There had been a few casual relationships that I’ve shared in the past, some casual flings, nothing truly serious. Some of the women that people may have seen with me as my date have also been a part of—” he grimaces, “Well, you may call it as special arrangements.”
“What do you mean?”
Namjoon shrugs and gives you a small smile. “It means it was nothing but that, a front to show the public that I had connections. It helped boost the business when I showed up on dates with people who mattered in the business and it mostly helped them at the same time as showing up with me in public put their name out there for people and the media to recognise,” he says, once again surprising you when instead of telling you this while wearing a sense of pride on his face, all that you see on his face is a hint of shame, before he puts on another mask, and he wears a determined look on his face when he says, “So, the answer is no. They’ve never spent the night here and I’ve never opened my home to them. While I can’t say that I’m a saint either, I have had flings, friends with benefits, women that I could call when I needed a company, and oftentimes the public date that people were seeing me in would continue for the rest of the night, if you know what I mean. I can’t tell you all the details, but—” he stops to look at you in the eyes to add, “The time I spent with them had never been spent here, not in my home.”
Clearly, you have no idea how to react to that, or how to respond when he is looking at you with some sort of a hopeful look in his eyes. How could you even say anything when he just opens up that part of his life so easily, to be so easily honest instead of putting up a front just to amuse you? Unable to find anything to say, you look away, nodding at him as you tell him, “I see. Well, what you do at your personal time isn’t truly my business, is it?”
“Did. What I did in my personal time—” he quickly says with a firm voice, drawing you to find his eyes again. “Things have changed. It has to be.”
“You don’t have to change anything just because—” you begin to speak, hating the way your heart is giving some happy little flops in your chest just for hearing him say those things. Because it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. And you shouldn’t be jumping up and down in joy when his life doesn’t concern you. “We don’t even know each other to be saying things like this.”
“Then perhaps we can change that.”
“What?”
With a sigh, Namjoon leans forward to get closer to you, his eyes never waver from your face as he speaks, bringing back everything that had once been said between you the last time you met.
Before Jungkook left to give you space.
“Perhaps we can take this chance to get to know each other better. Past the memory of me being the douchebag who talked shit about the soulmate system and ignored you while you were waiting to see me, past the knowledge of me being Jungkook’s friend or the man who put up a front as if I have had a glorious love life in the past,” he says, and you can swear that there is a fire in his eyes, a look that tells you that he is not backing down. Not from this one.
“There is a reason why the universe had put the both of us together and matched us since birth. There is a reason why fate still insisted that we met, regardless of what had happened to us in the past that had kept us apart. Don’t you want to know what reason that might be?”
The weight of Namjoon’s offer sits with you all through breakfast. While it doesn’t do much to ruin the serene moment that you have been sharing with Namjoon right until the moment he said the words, it still has you growing weary and uneasy for the rest of the morning you spend with him.
It becomes a wonder for you when you manage to walk away from the dining table completely unscathed, even if your mind continues reeling over it without even being able to give him a sold answer. As if he can sense it, Namjoon merely smiles when you fall silent after hearing his offer and suggests that you would take your time to consider it.
“You don’t have to give me an answer or agree with it right away. Try to think about it, don’t let me force or affect any decision you make,” he says, before changing the topic just when you come close to start thinking of ways to escape and flee out of his home.
By noon, you are back at your apartment, sitting on the sofa right in front of the television, its empty screen looking back at you. Namjoon had sent his driver to take you home merely an hour ago, right around the same time he had suddenly acquired some motivation to get back to work and had decided that the driver would be of better use to drive you home while he did his duty from his fancy penthouse.
Feeling drained and sensing no other emotions but the emptiness that had followed you since the day before, you had fallen onto this sofa moments after you walked in and you have yet to move away from it since. You should be mulling over his offer, or perhaps plan out what to do to get Jungkook back and have him talk to you. But you are too numb to do anything, much less to function when you can barely think clearly, as if both your body and mind have shut down ever since you returned to your empty home.
Home.
Looking around, you take in your surroundings, gazing at the space that you had built together with Jungkook as a place where you would be—should have been—building your future together. You look at the beige-coloured walls around you which have been adorned with various framed pictures of the two of you and posters of everything that you both enjoy in life, at the room that is filled with all the mementoes that you have collected together with Jungkook through all the years you spent together.
Your mind takes you back to Namjoon’s home, which had appeared a complete contrast to your own. Despite calling it his personal space, Namjoon’s penthouse seemed scarce of intimate touches. It had felt too impersonal for you, with only essential things filling his home instead of the things that would make his personal space homely, with monochrome colours painting all the walls, spaces, and furnitures which seemed to be the opposite of the vibrant colours that you could find in yourhome.
And yet, as you are sitting here on your own, this apartment suddenly feels colder, hollow, as if the warmth that has been a huge part of it has been sucked dry the moment Jungkook stepped out of the door, the moment every bit of hope that you have built simply shattered when he turned away from you, taking all of that hope and your joy away while taking away your right to choose.
With a sharp inhale of breath, you finally snap out of it, and you soon fall in motion to start picking your life back up as much as possible.
You start by contacting your workplace, while you had informed your co-workers of your absence for the past two days, you decide to make it clear that the ‘family emergency’ you are currently dealing with will take some more time to fix and that you will need to take an early vacation leave before you can return to work. Then you start making more phone calls, sending out texts, doing the best you can to trace Jungkook’s whereabouts and confirm that he is okay, that perhaps you can find him and drag him back home to you.
Your stomach dips when Jungkook’s brother contacts you back only to let you know that your fiancé has yet to appear back at their hometown—not at their parents’ house, not at the brother’s house, and nowhere near their other relatives or old friends. Another call confirms what Namjoon had told you that Jungkook has yet to step foot at the company either, while none of your close friends claims to have been contacted by Jungkook since the day he was gone.
It takes a lot of convincing and pleading to Jungkook’s brother to make him believe that nothing is wrong and to make him promise that he wouldn’t let the news reach their parents. And it takes you a lot of vague explanations to answer all the questions that your friends throw at you with each call or text to keep them from finding out what is actually happening.
Your sister is the last person you call, and her voice immediately feels like a warm hug. Even before you start explaining to her all the details, Gahee seems to have sensed it, as if she had been expecting to receive this call for a long time.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry, _____, I have no idea what to say. Do you want to stay here with us until he comes back? Youngjae has a conference to attend out of town this weekend and I was just about to ask you to stay here to keep me company and help out with Gyeoul anyway,” she softly says.
“I don’t know,” you whisper into the call. “I want to be here if—when he comes back.” Your throat feels constricted that you can barely say those words, and you realise just how unconvincing you sounded even to yourself. Your eyes begin to prickle and burn with tears for the lost hope, but you suck a deep breath and hold everything in. Only for your effort to turn futile when your sister offers,
“I know that you want to wait for him. But would it be a good idea to wait on your own? At least when you’re here, you have Gyeoul and me to distract you. You wouldn’t have everything that reminds you of him suffocating and torturing you in your wait.”
Suffocating? Is that what this place is making me feel?
You begin to wonder about this just when your chest grows even tighter the moment your eyes fall on one of the photos that Jungkook had put on display. An old photo of you taken on your birthday two years ago.
You close your eyes briefly before taking another look around you just as you end the phone call. Not a moment too soon, the silence sinks in, as if it has been waiting in the shadows, lurking around you until the moment you are no longer busy with calls and texts to finally notice it and it would finally engulf you, wrapping itself around you until you find it hard to simply breathe.
Right at that moment, you know that you would never be able to survive sitting here in your silence and in the not knowing only to wait helplessly for Jungkook’s return. Determined to not let yourself drown in sorrow, you finally make your move.
By dusk, you have your personal things packed up. Essential things that you would need to get through the upcoming days and only enough spare clothes to get through the week. By nightfall, you are sitting inside an Uber ride taking you across the city. The hollowness follows you even after you are kilometres away from your apartment, though you can slowly feel it fading, chipped in with every added distance. You try not to think too much about where you are heading to, keeping your eyes looking out the window and watching closely at the city that still thrives while your entire world seems to be falling apart.
By the time you reach your destination, your chest no longer feels tight, though you still feel completely numb. And it doesn’t help eliminate your spiking nerves as you stand right in front of the doorway, your heart stammering in your chest as you are waiting for it to be opened.
The sound of the keys and the door clicking open feels like a gavel coming down to seal your fate. A sense of uncertainty plagues you as you are standing there, though it all fades so quickly when you lift your face and meet Namjoon’s eyes.
“I—I don’t know why I’m here, but—”
Once again, you feel as if your throat is clogged when you are not even completely sure how to explain yourself. The last thing you remember was feeling the dread of loneliness while being alone inside your home. That intense feeling had pulled you right out of it to find solace, only to lead you all the way here, back to his door.
While you are busy questioning yourself, Namjoon simply smiles at you and steps aside, widening the door behind him so you could step right past him. There is no question in his eyes, no doubt in his smile, and there is nothing but pure warmth engulfing you when he says,
“Come in. You’re always welcome here, _____.”
➥ Author’s note | Forgive me for the wait, but this one took a bit of time to finish. As you may have noticed, I have added another chapter on the masterpost. I have decided to split the original chapter into two, with chapter 8 as the filler chapter, while more intriguing stuff will happen later on chapter 9. I hope you enjoyed reading this one. Thank you for joining this emotional ride. Any feedback is welcome!
Smoke and Mirrors: a magician’s trick, the art of making an entity appear to be floating through the use of smoke and mirrors. In figurative speech, something which, once examined, is proven to be an illusion. Like the moon reflected on water, or a flower reflected in a mirror. Unable to be touched.
Description: Listless idol Jeon Jungkook has lost his creative spark. Something just feels…missing. And between jet-setting across the world and constantly evading public scandals, Jungkook’s life up until now has felt like a movie. One thing Jungkook can count on, however, is video games. Y/N has been gaming forever. And when a new VR game called Arcana is released, both Y/N and Jungkook are all over it. But what will become of Jungkook’s online persona when life forces the two to work together? And will Jungkook manage to keep his identity a secret from one of his closest Internet friends?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (gender unspecified) Reader
Word Count: 12.1k
Tags: Solo Idol!Jungkook, Gamer!Jungkook, Makeup Artist!Reader, Manager!Seokjin, Florist!Hoseok
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Haha….ha….ha….um, well this is awkward isn’t it? I haven’t been active on here in a long, long time! But God does it feel nice to return. In the time I’ve been away, I’ve been working on a lot of things at once. Too many chefs in the kitchen, except the chefs are projects/responsibilities and the kitchen is me and is also on fire. I think right now more than ever, I’ve leaned into writing to help me feel a bit better about the world. So if this story can make you happy that’s honestly all I can ask for. I don’t think I’ll be keeping a posting schedule, as that feels like too much for me right now, but maybe in the future I’ll come up with a schedule that doesn’t feel overwhelming! Regardless, I’ve missed you guys and I’ve really missed posting my writing here. I hope you all still remember me! And I hope you enjoy this story. Really. As always, please feel free to send me any thoughts or concerns! Questions, critique, comments: send them all my way! I can’t wait to get chatting with you all again.
And I’m on Twitter! I’ll put the link here if you want to follow. I’m very active over there!
“Well work harder, damn. Tiki’s about to go down,” you say, gritting your teeth as you whip around toward the dragon staring your party down.
It circles you, never once looking away, several stories tall with glowing yellow eyes that seem to leave trails behind in the darkness of the cavern. You feel at once impossibly small and impossibly fragile in front of such a behemoth, all purple scales and saliva stringing across pointed fangs.
“Just focus on offense for now,” says Sapphire, grunting as he lunges sword-first toward the dragon.
Your brows shoot sky high as Sapphire, a DPS like you, runs straight for the enemy. His silver knight’s armor clanks in his wake. “Wait!” you call, but it’s too late. Your teammate has his sword plunging in and slicing out and slashing wild before you can even prep your next spell. “Jesus, Saph!”
Smoke and Mirrors: a magician’s trick, the art of making an entity appear to be floating through the use of smoke and mirrors. In figurative speech, something which, once examined, is proven to be an illusion. Like the moon reflected on water, or a flower reflected in a mirror. Unable to be touched.
Description: Listless idol Jeon Jungkook has lost his creative spark. Something just feels…missing. And between jet-setting across the world and constantly evading public scandals, Jungkook’s life up until now has felt like a movie. One thing Jungkook can count on, however, is video games. Y/N has been gaming forever. And when a new VR game called Arcana is released, both Y/N and Jungkook are all over it. But what will become of Jungkook’s online persona when life forces the two to work together? And will Jungkook manage to keep his identity a secret from one of his closest Internet friends?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (gender unspecified) Reader
Word Count: 12.1k
Tags: Solo Idol!Jungkook, Gamer!Jungkook, Makeup Artist!Reader, Manager!Seokjin, Florist!Hoseok
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Haha….ha….ha….um, well this is awkward isn’t it? I haven’t been active on here in a long, long time! But God does it feel nice to return. In the time I’ve been away, I’ve been working on a lot of things at once. Too many chefs in the kitchen, except the chefs are projects/responsibilities and the kitchen is me and is also on fire. I think right now more than ever, I’ve leaned into writing to help me feel a bit better about the world. So if this story can make you happy that’s honestly all I can ask for. I don’t think I’ll be keeping a posting schedule, as that feels like too much for me right now, but maybe in the future I’ll come up with a schedule that doesn’t feel overwhelming! Regardless, I’ve missed you guys and I’ve really missed posting my writing here. I hope you all still remember me! And I hope you enjoy this story. Really. As always, please feel free to send me any thoughts or concerns! Questions, critique, comments: send them all my way! I can’t wait to get chatting with you all again.
And I’m on Twitter! I’ll put the link here if you want to follow. I’m very active over there!
“Well work harder, damn. Tiki’s about to go down,” you say, gritting your teeth as you whip around toward the dragon staring your party down.
It circles you, never once looking away, several stories tall with glowing yellow eyes that seem to leave trails behind in the darkness of the cavern. You feel at once impossibly small and impossibly fragile in front of such a behemoth, all purple scales and saliva stringing across pointed fangs.
“Just focus on offense for now,” says Sapphire, grunting as he lunges sword-first toward the dragon.
Your brows shoot sky high as Sapphire, a DPS like you, runs straight for the enemy. His silver knight’s armor clanks in his wake. “Wait!” you call, but it’s too late. Your teammate has his sword plunging in and slicing out and slashing wild before you can even prep your next spell. “Jesus, Saph!”
Smoke and Mirrors: a magician’s trick, the art of making an entity appear to be floating through the use of smoke and mirrors. In figurative speech, something which, once examined, is proven to be an illusion. Like the moon reflected on water, or a flower reflected in a mirror. Unable to be touched.
Description: Listless idol Jeon Jungkook has lost his creative spark. Something just feels…missing. And between jet-setting across the world and constantly evading public scandals, Jungkook’s life up until now has felt like a movie. One thing Jungkook can count on, however, is video games. Y/N has been gaming forever. And when a new VR game called Arcana is released, both Y/N and Jungkook are all over it. But what will become of Jungkook’s online persona when life forces the two to work together? And will Jungkook manage to keep his identity a secret from one of his closest Internet friends?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (gender unspecified) Reader
Word Count: 12.1k
Tags: Solo Idol!Jungkook, Gamer!Jungkook, Makeup Artist!Reader, Manager!Seokjin, Florist!Hoseok
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Haha….ha….ha….um, well this is awkward isn’t it? I haven’t been active on here in a long, long time! But God does it feel nice to return. In the time I’ve been away, I’ve been working on a lot of things at once. Too many chefs in the kitchen, except the chefs are projects/responsibilities and the kitchen is me and is also on fire. I think right now more than ever, I’ve leaned into writing to help me feel a bit better about the world. So if this story can make you happy that’s honestly all I can ask for. I don’t think I’ll be keeping a posting schedule, as that feels like too much for me right now, but maybe in the future I’ll come up with a schedule that doesn’t feel overwhelming! Regardless, I’ve missed you guys and I’ve really missed posting my writing here. I hope you all still remember me! And I hope you enjoy this story. Really. As always, please feel free to send me any thoughts or concerns! Questions, critique, comments: send them all my way! I can’t wait to get chatting with you all again.
And I’m on Twitter! I’ll put the link here if you want to follow. I’m very active over there!
“Well work harder, damn. Tiki’s about to go down,” you say, gritting your teeth as you whip around toward the dragon staring your party down.
It circles you, never once looking away, several stories tall with glowing yellow eyes that seem to leave trails behind in the darkness of the cavern. You feel at once impossibly small and impossibly fragile in front of such a behemoth, all purple scales and saliva stringing across pointed fangs.
“Just focus on offense for now,” says Sapphire, grunting as he lunges sword-first toward the dragon.
Your brows shoot sky high as Sapphire, a DPS like you, runs straight for the enemy. His silver knight’s armor clanks in his wake. “Wait!” you call, but it’s too late. Your teammate has his sword plunging in and slicing out and slashing wild before you can even prep your next spell. “Jesus, Saph!”
You hear his laughter like bells echo through the cavern, seeming to bounce against the domed ceiling and drip like water from the clinging stalactites. “Tiki! Distract!” you call as the dragon whips wildly: first toward Sapphire and then toward you. “Shit,” you whisper, examining your mana with a hiss. “I need a second to recover!”
Tiki, a massive green orc and also your team’s tank, rushes in with his battle axe. Upon the first hit, the dragon writhes in pain and turns toward Tiki, ire in its yellow eyes. Tiki says nothing, just lets out a string of labored breaths as he swings his heavy weapon. Sapphire is quick to attack at the dragon’s heels. The dragon opens its mouth to spew flames across the charred cavern, aiming right for Tiki, but before it can Zero finally heals him with a flash of white light and a bolt straight to his broad green chest. You jump, turn to the side to see Zero is standing beside you about twenty feet from the dragon.
“Get spelling, Nova!” he shouts, long blonde hair flying in the breeze his spell created.
His voice, deep and gruff, doesn’t suit his pretty, dark-skinned elven body: particularly the well-rendered female…curvature. Every time he talks, it takes you off guard. You shake it off and nod once.
“Loli! Get punching!” you call to your resident monk as she idles near the dragon’s tail. She says nothing. You sigh, rest a hand on your hip. “Loli!”
She jumps to attention. “Sorry! My roommate needed me,” she says with a laugh, rubbing the back of her half-shaven head.
“Tell her to piss off!” calls Tiki as the dragon, halted by Zero’s healing spell, recovers and swings a mighty paw his way.
Your mana is finally restored and, shutting your eyes, you summon a bolt of ice. With a shout, you spin your staff over your head before slamming it down with a thunderous clap. Ice splinters dizzyingly fast from the ground beneath your staff and crawls like frost until it hits the dragon, stunning it still for a few seconds.
“Health’s low! Saph, go for the kill!” Lolita shouts as she lands a solid punch on the dragon’s belly that shatters your freezing spell.
Without waiting a second more, Sapphire shoves his sword into the dragon’s heaving chest as it writhes from pain. It looses a cry that sends vibrations through the cavern. A few rocks tumble from fissures in the cave walls, and a stalactite cracks and careens toward the ground where it explodes into shards.
And, with that, the massive beast falls to its stomach, its head clunking to the ground in front of Tiki’s feet. The ensuing silence rings in your ears as the five of you stand completely still, waiting. It wouldn’t be the first time an enemy has fallen only to reveal a dormant ability that results in a second battle. None of you says a thing until the massive body before you begins to dissolve into pixels, leaving you with only the skull as a prize and a bag of loot in place of a carcass.
Lolita is the first to break the silence with a loud hoot. “Wooh! Hell yeah!” she shouts, clapping her hands.
You chuckle, lean on your staff. “Loli, you can only celebrate halfway since you missed half the fight,” you tease with a fond sigh.
She rushes toward you, wipes off her blue robes and crosses her arms. “My roommate came in!”
“And you didn’t warn us,” Zero chides as he smooths a few flyaway hairs, smiling. That model of his is just too pretty…
“I-,”
“Guys!” Sapphire shouts, jumping once as he examines the loot bag. “Look at this!”
You spin your staff in your hand and jog to stand beside the knight. His red eyes are bright, digging through the bag until he produces in one gloved hand—
“Is that a Philosopher’s Stone Fragment?” asks Tiki, similarly enraptured as he comes up beside Sapphire’s flank.
Sapphire nods. “Which means—,”
“Which means we’re one step closer,” you say, and you lock eager eyes with Sapphire who only nods. “Well shit!”
“Also means we were right to come this way,” Lolita says, holding up one finger as if correcting us. “And whose idea was that?”
Zero shoves Lolita by the head and turns back toward the loot bag. “Anything else?” he asks.
Sapphire digs around before shrugging. “A shield,” he says.
“Don’t need it,” Tiki says.
“And…mm…,” he pauses, brow furrowing as he pulls out a piece of paper. He purses his lips, runs a hand through his blue-black hair, cocks his head to the side. “Schematic?”
“For what?”
“Oh!” he exclaims, turning to you as he hands you the paper. You look it over and scoff. “Superior elemental staff.”
“Cuts down the mana I need to do spells,” you say, rolling your eyes as you pocket the paper. “Coulda used that today.”
Sapphire claps your shoulder. “Next time! We’ve still got three fragments to find before anyone else does.”
You nod. “Well, with that settled…,” you begin, itching to use the bathroom.
“Ah! You gotta leave?” asks Sapphire.
You nod. “Got work in the morning.”
“Eugh,” he sighs, shoulders slumping. “Me too.”
“Me three,” says Zero.
“Ah, the working world. We’re lucky, huh Tiki?” Lolita says with a wistful sigh as water from overhead drips onto her shoulder. She jumps a little, but settles easily. “Don’t you miss your reckless college days?”
You laugh. “I only graduated last year,” you say, turning toward Sapphire. “Speaking of which, Saph did you ever go to school?”
He stiffens. “Ah, uh…,” he begins, glancing at his feet. He’s quiet for a moment. “No. Not past high school,” he says with an almost sheepish nod.
You don’t say anything, but it seems like there’s something he’s keeping to himself, something he doesn’t want to share. Sapphire is always like that, but this feels a little different.
“Hm,” you say, sensing his discomfort. “Welp, I’m gonna peace out for the night. Message me when you guys wanna go for the next fragment. I’ll keep researching where it might be.”
“Mm, sounds good,” says Tiki. “I’m starving. Loli, wanna get some food?”
Lolita glances at Tiki out the corner of her eye. “You mean, like, real food?”
Tiki sighs. “Obviously real food. I don’t wanna waste money on game food.”
She laughs and nods. “Alright. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”
“Mm.”
Without another word, both Tiki and Lolita blink out, leaving nothing behind them. You turn toward Zero and pat his back. “Sorry for getting on your case tonight,” you say. “I was worried Tiki would fall and then…well, you get it.”
Zero shrugs, examining one of his perfect fingernails. “No, I wasn’t on my game tonight. I’ll be better next time.”
“Me too,” you say, waving as Zero too blinks out.
You turn toward Sapphire and offer a smile. “Sorry for asking about college,” you say.
He stiffens, brows raised. “Hm? Oh, no it’s fine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “It’s just, uh…well, you know my dad always wanted me to go to college so…”
You wave your hands, shake your head. “Forget it, alright? I won’t bring it up unless you do first.” You smirk. “You played tank tonight, didn’t you?”
He laughs. “Yeah, a little.”
“Don’t do that shit,” you say, but you can’t help your smile. “What would we do if we lost you in the middle of a battle?”
You can see his posture go a little straight. He turns to you, blinking. “You…?” he begins, but cuts himself off with a laugh. “Ah, mm, well…I’d better get going.”
“Mhm. Message me if you get any new info about fragment locations,” you say, then chuckle. “Or if you just wanna talk about The Bachelor or something.”
He laughs with you. “I don’t watch The Bachelor!”
“Well, whatever you watch!” you call as you jog a few paces away. You offer a wave which Sapphire mimics before pressing the disconnect button on your headset.
You shake your head, disoriented as you return to your bedroom, your window sitting before you, the outskirts of Bucheon spreading out in spindly arms around you. Your head throbs a little and you wince, removing your sensor gloves and setting them gently on the light wood table beside your computer. You guide one of the philodendron leaves to the side so it won’t tickle the gloves. You shuck off the sensor jacket too and leave it draped over the back of your gaming chair. Slowly, you return your attention to the window, smiling down at the sea of lights undulating in the dark. It’s a nice evening, you notice as you press the pads of your fingers to the cool glass.
Your phone, until then sitting dormant on the tabletop beside your potted jade plant, pings to life with a notification. Your eyes widen and you grab for it, stretching your torso as you do to work out your aching muscles. Tonight’s session with the group had gone long, and the fatigue on your back is severe from slumping in that gaming chair like a shrimp. And even though you have to move your upper body to activate the full range of Arcana’s sensor controls, your ass feels like you’ve just sat through back-to-back, four-hour lectures.
BeastSlayers™
SacredSapphire: miss u guys already :-(
You laugh, watch as Tiki begins writing a message in response.
TikiTikiRoom: ..
TikiTikiRoom: dont be soft bitch ill kill you
You pad down the hallway, watching your phone as you stumble through the dark apartment with one hand on the wall bracing you. You connect your phone to the TV speakers and play some lofi something or other, bop your head as you enter the kitchen and flip on a flickering yellow light. You rifle through the freezer, produce a cherry red popsicle. You press it to your lips and smile.
Lolovely: I haven’t even made it to Tik’s dorm wtf why are you being sappy already?
CodenameZer0: Looool, Saph? More like SAP.
TikiTikiRoom: press f
SuperNova: I think it’s sweet :’)
SuperNova: Wanna voice chat?
SacredSapphire: nonono
SacredSapphire: someone’s coming over lol
Lolovely: ominous…
You chuckle and take a bite of your popsicle. But as you do, the thing turns to mush and slides from the stick like slop, staining your white shirt and your lips red. “Shit!” you exclaim, then rush to the freezer.
With a sigh, you notice that a layer of ice is frosted over the back. And as you jam your hand in, you can feel that the temperature is higher than it should be. Hence, melty popsicle. You groan, take to it with a knife from the creaky drawer. You chip away at the ice and keep chipping until the back of the freezer is visible once more.
“Cheap piece of crap,” you mumble, kicking the fridge with your socked toe.
You return to the group chat to a slew of messages.
TikiTikiRoom: WAIT SAPH DO YOU HAVE A BOY/GIRL/THEYFRIEND??
TikiTikiRoom: IM GONNA HAVE AN ANEURISM
Lolovely: !!!!!!!!!
Lolovely: ??????
CodenameZer0: Hohohoh
CodenameZer0: Could it be?
SacredSapphire: NO!!
SacredSapphire: i don’t have a boy/girl/theyfriend! i’m too busy, rip
SacredSapphire: it’s just someone
SacredSapphire: don’t worry about it lol
Lolovely: sus…
Lolovely: nova’s better at this stuff
Lolovely: interrogation
Lolovely: think if i scream hard enough nova will come back?
Lolovely: NOVAAAAAA
You laugh and take a few photos. First of the old laminate floor which now resembles a crime scene in cherry popsicle red. Next of your shirt, now streaked in slush. Third, of your face, lips stained like you’ve smeared lip tint on your skin. You pull a pout before snapping the shot, then send all three together.
SuperNova: I crave death.
SuperNova: Stupid cheap fridge. Freezes over literally monthly.
SuperNova: I hate it here.
Lolovely: oooh that pic…
Lolovely: kinda….sexy hehe
SuperNova: ???
You set your phone aside and take to cleaning the floor. Last thing you need in this shithole is an ant infestation. Your music bumps gently through the sound bar beneath your TV. Sure, your apartment is decked out in tech, but the place itself?
You glance around the kitchen, a sanitary white with pretty fixtures, and suppress a sigh. It’s all for show anyway, this apartment. Like almost all the others in the area, it only looks nice. The reality, however…
Well, it’s melted popsicles and a shower that only runs lukewarm.
You check your phone with a hip against the countertop.
TikiTikiRoom: lewd lol
SuperNova: Shut up lmao nothing lewd about my shitty fridge.
SuperNova: Anyway, no I’m not gonna help you bully Saph.
SuperNova: Leave him alone or I’ll bite your ankles.
Lolovely: !!!
Lolovely: qu'est-ce que pas?
Lolovely: Nova…you’ve been defending Saph lately…
Lolovely: hold on i’m seeing something…
CodenameZer0: Don’t threaten my ankles.
SacredSapphire: nova baby ur the only loyal one here
Laughing, you type your response and make your way to the couch, falling flat on your stomach with an unpleasant thump.
Jeon Jungkook sits still, swiveling in his gaming chair with a soft smile as he watches the messages surge through the Discord group chat. Even though they’re busy teasing him, Jungkook can’t help the swell of fondness in his chest for his group mates. He leans back precariously far, the room nearly pitch black save for the shifting LEDs on his keyboard and the purple screensaver on his monitor.
SuperNova: It’s you and me, Saph.
SuperNova: Now come here and get your kith :3
Jungkook chokes a laugh with his hand, covering his mouth as his eyes squint. He tosses his head to the side, lets out a sigh. Quietly, he touches the photo you sent and lets it spread across his screen. He chuckles, examining your expression. Displeased, you eye the camera with furrowed brows and a pout. Briefly, Jungkook considers telling you it’s cute.
But he quickly clicks out of the photo, clears his throat, and catches up with the chat.
CodenameZer0: God, barf.
TikiTikiRoom: no kithes for zero
Lolovely: lolol i want a kith :(
SuperNova: Get in line then. Saph first.
SacredSapphire: i….*blushes*
SacredSapphire: N-N-Noona!
CodenameZer0: FUCKING BARF GOODBYE
Zero’s icon goes offline and Jungkook laughs in earnest now, his head lolling back. But before he can respond, the door to his studio opens with a robotic jingle. He jumps a little, turning his whole body toward the door. He nearly falls off the chair as he swivels.
In the doorway, Kim Seokjin shuffling across the threshold with two cups of coffee in a carrier. He looks a little disheveled, hair windswept and eyes scanning the room round and round. His gaze lingers here and there: resting on Jungkook’s wall of figurines, then on the futon still pulled down and covered in a messy heap of sheets, then on Jungkook’s face as he sits perfectly still, perfectly redhanded. Jungkook’s mouth agape, his fingers poised to type another message to the group chat, his computer monitor showing no lyrics, no notes, no Ableton. Just his screensaver.
Jungkook had planned to pull up his WIP song before Jin arrived, but the opportunity to do that has long since passed.
“Uh…,” Jungkook says, dumbfounded with round eyes glowing in the flashing keyboard lights. “Hey, Seokjin.”
Jin’s nostrils flare, his expression fiery. His attention flashes to the sensor gloves, the controllers sitting beneath them, the sensor jacket left astray on the ground, haphazard.
“Jeon Jungkook-,”
“I can explain!”
Seokjin glares at him, cocks one single brow. “Uh-huh?”
“I…,” Jungkook begins, flustered as he rises to his feet. He feels like he’s in school again. Seokjin’s gaze is disarming, intense, and his knuckles are white as he crushes the cardboard handle of the coffee carrier. “Uh…I was taking a small tiny little break.”
“A small,” Seokjin begins, placing the coffee on Jungkook’s work desk and resting his palm beside it, “tiny,” he continues, leveling his eyes with Jungkook’s, “little break?” Jin’s jaw is clenched.
Jungkook swallows hard. “Mhm…”
Jungkook expects Seokjin to bare his canines, to sneer at him, to scold him to kingdom come. But his manager simply eases into a sigh and leans away from Jungkook, rubbing his forehead. It’s clear the will to fight with Jungkook is slowly leaking, and before long Seokjin has fallen backwards onto the futon, crushing the blanket mountain in his descent.
“Listen,” Seokjin says, fatigue in his voice. “You’ve got…so much going on in the next few months, you know?”
“I know!” Jungkook says, quick to sit beside Seokjin, brows knitting. He feels like a kid again, and the disappointment laced through Jin’s words feels like his childhood. “Trust me, I’m not just…like, procrastinating. It’s not that.”
Jin eyes him sidelong. “Then what is it?”
Jungkook stiffens, his back straight as a board. He clears his throat, stares at the coffee. “Let me get those,” he says, rushing to his feet with a clumsy stumble and grabbing the coffees before returning to his spot beside Jin. He hands Jin a coffee, expectant and, begrudgingly, Seokjin takes it and sips.
“Don’t avoid the question,” he says, stern. “If anyone’ll understand, it’s gotta be me, right?”
Jungkook nods. “No, you’re right!”
“Like, we’ve gone through some hard shit and where have I been? Right behind you. From day one,” he says, leveling a serious look at Jungkook. The lighthearted mood has fled from the room through the cracks in the walls. “All I’m asking is for you to put in the effort.”
Jungkook sighs, rests his forearms on his knees, laces his fingers around the coffee cup. He stares at the space between his toes. “I just…,” he begins, voice choked with insecurity. He doesn’t want to say it. In fact, he’d rather do just about anything else.
Because, after all, saying it means it’s real.
And if it’s real, then it’s a real problem.
“Listen,” Jin begins, patting Jungkook’s back. “I get it. Making music…it can be really tiring, right?” he says. Jungkook can only shrug. “And sometimes you might not feel like you can do it. Like you don’t have the inspiration.”
“Mm…”
Seokjin gives another pat, stronger this time. “But that’s how life is, Jungkook. Work doesn’t just wait. You’re an adult now. You’ve got adult responsibilities. And when you make a passion into your full-time job, you kinda sacrifice the freedom. Deadlines are a thing. You can’t just…be flippant and casual about it.”
“I’m not being casual,” says Jungkook, and for the first time since Jin walked in his voice is strong and steady. He sits up straight and meets Jin’s imploring eyes.
Seokjin offers a small smile. “Good,” he says. “I trust you. And, you know, you’ve got a whole team of producers behind you who wanna see you succeed. All you’ve gotta do is call.”
“I know.”
“You’re not doing it alone, alright?” he asks, and Jungkook’s throat tightens a little. “That’s the good thing about making your passion into your full-time job, huh? Now…well, now it’s not just your responsibility. It’s divided.”
“Yeah.”
“Well…,” Seokjin says, patting his thighs as he pushes to his feet. “Just wanted to drop by and check on you.”
Jungkook offers a smile and nods, standing with his manager. “Yup.”
“You do remember what’s on deck for tomorrow, right?” asks Seokjin, cocking a brow as he takes another swig of coffee.
Jungkook nods again. “Screen test with the drama people.”
Jin smacks the side of Jungkook’s head and crosses his arms. “Not the drama people!” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s IJBC.”
“IJBC, right,” Jungkook says as he tenderly rubs the side of his head. “I remember.”
“Do you even know the name of the drama?” The younger boy falls silent, sheepish. “It’s called Give Up Generation, Jungkook.”
“I remember,” Jungkook says, pouting a little. “I just…forgot for a minute.”
Jin can’t help chuckling. “Get to bed early then so you don’t have dark circles,” Jin says with a smile, nodding as he turns toward the door. “Ah!” Seokjin pivots around, casting a disdainful look over Jungkook’s shoulder at the foldout futon. He pulls a scowl. “Sleep at home tonight, will you?”
Jungkook chuckles. “Alright. Stop nagging now,” he says, patting Jin’s back as he guides him out the door and into the hallway. “Bye, Jin!” he calls, not awaiting a response.
Slowly and with his head down, Jungkook shuffles back inside and slumps into his gaming chair, staring at his screensaver. He heaves a deep down sigh, lets it escape through his lips nearly pinched shut. Like exhaling cigarette smoke.
His phone pings to life with an incoming message.
SuperNova: Alright, I had your back before but I don’t cosign the Noona Agenda. I don’t even know if I am your noona.
Lolovely: seconded.
Lolovely: plus it’s icky.
TikiTikiRoom: boooooo
SuperNova: Wait, I think I just heard something in the hallway. Hold on.
Lolovely: SCARY!
TikiTikiRoom: burglars lol
Lolovely: ctrl z yourself, tiki
Lolovely: what if it is though…?
TikiTikiRoom: doubt it.
SuperNova: !!!
SuperNova: Lol it was a package…?
Lolovely: so late…?
SuperNova: Yeah…Lemme open it hold on.
The next message that comes through is a photo you send. Jungkook sits up straighter, opens it quick, and grins once he realizes what it is. A cardboard box, relatively big, sitting torn open on your kitchen floor, the photo features a look inside at several pretty makeup palettes and brushes. Jungkook doesn’t know the names of everything he sees, but he knows why it’s a big deal.
SacredSapphire: !! they finally sent it!!
SuperNova: They did!!
Lolovely: wait what? what did who send?
SuperNova: Lol, sorry. Uh I guess I only told Saph. But the brand I’ve been communicating with actually sent me a PR package! I’m gonna use it on my next job.
SuperNova: This shit’s super expensive too, so I’m lucky I’ve been in contact with a rep.
SuperNova: Gotta use the best to be the best!
TikiTikiRoom: i forgot ur a makeup artist lol
TikiTikiRoom: .-.
SuperNova: …
SuperNova: We’ve been group mates for like four months jfc
SuperNova: Anyway, yeah I’m glad. I guess they sent it to the wrong apartment? So my neighbor brought it over. He just got back from work.
Lolovely: neighbor?
Lolovely: cute neighbor?
SuperNova: He’s like seventy so no, not really my type.
SacredSapphire: nova, that’s super cool. i’m sure you’re gonna get big gigs soon.
SuperNova: Well, I can hope haha.
SuperNova: No, well…all I can do is work hard.
SuperNova: >:-)
All you can do is work hard, huh?
Jungkook tosses his phone to the side and rubs his hands up and down his face. He pinches his eyes shut and relaxes into the back of his chair, feeling the lull of sleepiness finally pulling at him.
And instead of going home like Jin asked, Jungkook simply pads over to the futon and, without moving the blankets, collapses atop them and falls asleep where he falls.
“I’m very sorry.”
“No…uh, no it’s fine.”
“Of course, you can keep the fees or whatever.”
“Oh, um, I…no, I’ll refund those too.”
“Really? I’ll give you a really good review!”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m really sorry.”
You sigh, plant a hand on your forehead and heave a sigh. Forcing a smile, you shake your head and press your phone into the crook of your shoulder, bending down to give your fiddle-leaf fig a hose down with your watering can.
“It’s fine. Things come up, you know?”
The girl on the other side of the phone, a young independent model going in for headshots, had called you an hour ago and had spoken at length about why she has to cancel her appointment with you today. How the photographer did this or that, how she actually watched a few tutorials online and figured she could do it herself, how she felt so so bad. You feel bad for her, of course. Kind of.
“Listen, I’ll give you a shoutout on my page, alright? I’ll tag you in my story,” she says.
You shake your head. “No, that’s fine. Just, um…you know, take care. Remember to clean your brushes.”
At this, she laughs. “Thanks for being so cool. I was actually super nervous to call and cancel. I’ve had to cancel a few things like this before, and I’ve had bad experiences,” she says. “Anyway, I’ll recommend you!”
“Alright.”
“Thanks!”
You nod as she hangs up the phone. Gently, you rise to your feet and set your watering can aside on the kitchen table. You set the phone beside it, pausing to glare at the black screen. Well…there goes your Sunday. You turn over your shoulder, pad to the window, crack it open a little. A bracing breeze whistles through, cooling your skin. You shut your eyes against it — only for a moment — before you turn on your heel, shove your feet into your sneakers sockless, swipe your phone and house keys, and shove out the door.
The florist’s is a healthy walk away, but the weather is nice enough and you’re too tired to brave the subway even if it’s only a few stops. You pass buildings and parks as the landscape becomes more and more urban and the high rises look like they could puncture the cloud layer. Before long, you’re standing in front of Happy Garden and, stepping through the sliding doors that are always left open and all-but nonfunctioning with the lush green plants climbing all around. You breathe a sigh of relief, pat your chest a little as the fresh, grassy scent settles your heart.
You aren’t there for more than half a minute before Hoseok stumbles out from the back room, grinning wide with a bouquet of hydrangeas in his hands, wrapped in butcher paper and twine. He curves around the stumbling greenery littering every surface and encroaching on every walkway and comes to a stop in front of you. He smiles.
“Hey,” you say before he gets the chance. You hold up one limp hand in a lazy wave.
He glances up and down, from your head to your toes, and sighs. Still holding the hydrangeas, he rests a hip on the checkout counter and cocks a brow.
“That is the opposite of encouraging,” you remark with a scowl.
He chuckles, pats your arm. “What’s up?” He jerks his head toward the front of the store where bouquets are displayed and you follow behind him as he leads you there. “Unsuccessful raid?”
“Contrary to popular belief, my life doesn’t revolve around video games, actually,” you say, but his laugh wipes the grimace from your face.
His fluffy hair bounces as he bends down to add the hydrangeas to the display and when he stands upright once more he crosses his arms. “You know what I mean. You’ve been in here a lot lately.”
“Pardon me for trying to raise plants,” you say with a pout.
Again, he laughs. “Jesus, stop trying to pick a fight!” he says. “You must be in a really bad mood if you’re here acting like this.”
“Well what’s that supposed to mean?” you begin, outrage all over your face, before locking eyes with Hoseok and composing yourself. You sigh, nod your head. “Yeah, no I’m being annoying.”
He smiles, heart-shaped, and the apples of his cheeks grow rounder. What a joyful guy, you think to yourself with a wistful sigh. “Tell me about it then.”
He pulls one of the empty display boxes over and offers you a seat as he begins tending to the plants all around. You oblige, settle in, and sigh again. “It’s just…everything kinda feels like a dead end right now.”
“Hm?” he asks over his shoulder, graceful hands guiding a waxy leaf back in place.
“Like with my work,” you say, then shake your head. “No, that’s not it. Not entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like…things are okay, you know? I’m getting PR gifts. I’m growing my following on Instagram. I’ve got consistent clients,” you say, nodding. “Like everything is fine, you know?”
“But something feels…missing maybe?” Hoseok offers as he moves to spraying the ferns with water.
You shake your head. “More than that, it’s…like, I feel like I’ve hit the ceiling of what I can do, you know? Like what if this is the best I’ll ever do?”
“Is that bad?” he asks.
You sigh. “Not bad, just…disappointing,” you say. “I wanna work on movies. Red carpets. Editorials.” You rest your chin in your hand and your elbow on your knee. You stare up at Hoseok, now trimming brown leaves from another plant across the store. “I don’t wanna be stuck doing birthday parties forever.”
Hoseok hums, turns toward you with his hands in his apron pocket. He offers a smile. “You sound like a brat.”
You stiffen, eyes wide. “I-,” you start, but there’s really not much you can say to retort. So, softly, you slump once more and shrug. “Yeah…”
“And if you keep that attitude, you’re never gonna be an editorial makeup artist. I can promise you that,” he says with a nod as he approaches once more and crouches before your knees, still smiling. “Everyone has to grow somehow, you know? Be grateful you’ve got opportunities to build your resume.”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“What brought all of this on?”
Shrugging, you glance away toward the big croton plant in the corner, basking in morning sunlight, leaves all stiff and red and green. It’s a pretty plant. You tilt your head to the side, stare longer.
“That model bailed,” you say, but you’ve almost forgotten the self-pity of a moment ago. You stand to your feet and wander toward the plant, hitting halfway up your thigh. You crouch before it and look it over. “Hoseok, this is a really big croton.”
He laughs. “Mhm.”
“How much?”
“With the pot and given its height, it’s going for thirty-five-thousand won.”
You raise your brows. “I expected worse.”
“We’re fair here!” he protests, wagging his finger at you as he comes to stand beside you.
You smile softly, run a finger along the edge of a leaf. “It’s really pretty.”
“Suits you,” he says.
Without noticing, your anxiety begins to subside. “I think I’ll take it.”
“I’ll give you five-thousand off since you’re having a bad day,” he says, patting your back.
You turn to him with a smile. “Thanks.”
He chuckles. “I’ll loan you the dolly so you can get that thing home. Just bring it back before two.”
You stand up, stare down at the plant, nod once. “Mhm.”
Hoseok makes his way toward the cash register, punches in a few numbers. You linger a few steps behind, still staring at the croton. You get a good feeling off that one. Hoseok would tease you if you said as much, but you know when to listen to your intuition.
“Your big break will come Y/N,” Hoseok says as he rings you up, not once glancing to meet your eyes. “Just keep going.”
Jungkook sits with his head leaning against the rattling van window, eyes half-shut. Seoul blurs past him in shades of silvery grey and it’s all he can do to keep himself from falling asleep. For all his nagging, Seokjin had been right about one thing: Jungkook was sporting purplish bags beneath his eyes from a restless night’s sleep. Jin sits beside him now, frowning at his phone as he scrolls through Twitter. He’d given Jungkook a very stern talking to once he’d seen him, and really Jungkook deserved it. He knows that.
“Your voice is in good condition, right?” asks Jin.
Jungkook sits up straight, clears his throat. He shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”
Still stewing over his phone, Seokjin waves his hand without looking up. “Don’t worry about it.”
Jungkook sighs, leans back once more, gazes out the window once more. His phone buzzes once and he grabs it quickly, eager to distract himself.
BeastSlayers™
SuperNova: [image attached]
SuperNova: check him out OJO
Jungkook clicks the image you sent and chuckles as it loads up. The photo features nothing of you save for one hand, reaching out from behind the camera, throwing up a peace sign. Behind your hand, a houseplant. A pretty big one at that.
Jungkook smiles and drafts his reply, but the others are quicker.
CodenameZer0: Another plant? Lol isn’t your apartment overflowing with them by now?
SuperNova: Hush. Look at him.
LoLovely: cute!
LoLovely: does he have a name?
SuperNova: I don’t name my plants.
TikiTikiRoom: lol
TikiTikiRoom: because THAT would be weird
CodenameZer0: At least Nova can care care for a plant in the first place.
CodenameZer0: Let’s be honest here, Nova’s probably the only one among us who is even remotely responsible enough.
SacredSapphire: Nova it’s cute!
SacredSapphire: name him after me ;3
SuperNova: Sapphire?
SacredSapphire: hmmm say my name hehe
CodenameZer0: STOP IT FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST
CodenameZer0: IF THE FLIRTING DOESN’T STOP I’M GETTING YOU A TWO-WEEK BAN ON ARCANA
SacredSapphire: SHIT okay okay, let’s just take it easy
SacredSapphire: talk this out like adults…
SuperNova: Once I’ve finished setting up my new plant, I’m gonna play Animal Crossing. Anyone free to join? I’ve got oranges and mums.
SuperNova: Also had a meteor shower last night and have leftover star fragments first come first served.
The offer is tempting, to be sure. Not only would he receive star fragments, he’d be able to wander your island with the others. It might feel like you guys are side-by-side for real. Jungkook reaches into his backpack, slumped between his knees, and rifles around for his Switch. But as he produces the case, Seokjin shoots him the evil eye.
“If you’ve got time to play games, you’ve got time to review your lines,” he says, cocking a brow.
Jungkook sighs a little, slides the Switch back inside his bag. “I’ll look them over again.”
“Good.”
He takes one last look at his cell phone, checking the group chat with a frown that pinches the sides of his lips.
TikiTikiRoom: MEMEMEME
TikiTikiRoom: if any of you fakes get there before me ill go apeshit
TikiTikiRoom: i need so many
LoLovely: don’t need fragments, just wanna see ur cute face hehe
SuperNova: /blushes
SuperNova: I’ll open the gates once Sapphire Junior is nice and settled.
CodenameZer0: I’ll come too. I wanna shop.
SuperNova: Can’t you be cute like Lolita?
CodenameZer0: /gags
SuperNova: You coming, Saph? I’ll save a few fragments for you.
TikiTikiRoom: FAVORITISM
SuperNova: I am transparent about my favoritism toward Sapphire.
SuperNova: Because he is indeed my favorite.
LoLovely: *shocked pikachu face*
SacredSapphire: soz :-( i can’t
SacredSapphire: working
SuperNova: :-(
SuperNova: Next time we’ll all come to your island.
Jungkook tries not to feel that twinge of melancholy that tugs at his chest. That one he always gets when his friends go out for barbecue or grab drinks and hit the karaoke rooms. The one that feels like he’s really, deeply, fundamentally missing out on something important.
No, he doesn’t feel it. Instead, he focuses his attention on the printout Seokjin had given him three days ago. He scans the lines over and over, committing them to memory.
“No! That’s the thing, she didn’t even tell me!” says the girl below your brush.
You attempt to guide the highlighter across her cheekbones, but before you can make contact with her skin she’s jerked away once more, talking so animatedly that you can’t even tell if you’ve made her eyebrows even.
“That’s shitty,” says her friend beside her, likewise preoccupied as Jieun struggles to match her skintone.
The two of you lock eyes, both hovering over the two women as they chat over matching cups of coffee. Jieun puffs out her cheeks, raises her brows, and goes back to work, smoothing foundation on to the client’s chin with a brush.
You stand in a nice apartment — all marble floors and high ceilings and windowed walls overlooking Seoul. When you’d gotten the offer for a Seoul gig with Jieun, you’d been hesitant. The subway ride is long and you prefer to stay relatively local. But something made you agree. You don’t know exactly what. Call it divine intervention or epiphany or Jung Hoseok, but the words just keep going had been replaying in your brain since you last saw your friend. The pair of women — likely in their thirties — had booked both you and Jieun to do their makeup for a Sunday luncheon.
“And you know she’s looking out for him,” says Hyejin with a scoff. “As if I’m gonna bite the kid’s head off.”
“Maybe you will,” jokes the other woman, laughing just as Jieun reaches in to apply some liquid blush to her cheeks. “You know she’s got a soft spot for him.”
“Yeah well it’s a soft spot in all of our wallets if he doesn’t get his shit together,” says Hyejin, sighing. There is real woe in her expression and you can feel from the shift in atmosphere that things have turned serious. “He’s talented, you know? But…sometimes I think she goes too easy on him,” she continues, and this time her tone is decidedly softer, the movement of her face less pronounced.
You use the opportunity to work some powder beneath her eyes with a sponge. “Well, that’s motherhood for you,” says the other, flippant.
“Have you seen what the folks are saying on Twitter?” asks Hyejin as you apply shadow to her eyelids. “About his voice.”
“Hm?”
“Well some of his bigger hate communities have been compiling all the footage of his stage mistakes and they’re spreading it around,” Hyejin says with a huff. “Stupid, honestly. They’re making it out like he makes those mistakes all the time.”
“Netizens are like that, Hyejin,” says the other woman, now easing into her chair with her eyes shut as Jieun can finally get to work setting her base.
“Still…”
“Nowyou’re the one defending him,” she remarks with a laugh.
“It’s not that,” Hyejin says, scoffing. “It’s just…like if he doesn’t prove himself soon, all those commenters are gonna have more ammunition, you know? Which is annoying for all of us.”
“Sounds like you care a little bit.”
“I dont.”
“Hm.”
You focus on Hyejin’s full lashes, applying mascara with delicate, steady strokes. She hums a little as you use the pad of your fingertips to tame stubborn eyeshadow into blending more seamlessly. It seems, at least, that the conversation has died down. For that, you are very grateful.
“Say, do you two know anything about k-pop?” asks Jieun’s client.
The two of you lock eyes once more. It’s true that you are well-versed in pop culture: video games, TV shows, YouTube drama. But you’d be lying if you said you tune in to Inkigayo every week. And despite Jieun’s age and her trendy look, you know she’s not the type to keep updated on current idols. And you see in her brown eyes your own shock mirrored.
“Um…no, not particularly,” you answer for the both of you. Jieun releases a breath she’d been holding and smiles her thanks. “Do you two work in the field?”
Hyejin waves her hand and sighs. “Don’t go bothering them with those sorts of questions,” she says, and you notice for the first time the easy poshness that this woman has. Even with her head tilted back and her eyes shut tight, she seems sure of herself.
You envy her just a little for that.
“What? They’re young,” says the other woman, grinning with her eyes shut as Jieun works on her eyeliner. “You ever heard of RTE?”
“Hey now,” says Hyejin, warning in her voice.
“I’m just curious,” the woman continues with a sigh. “Look us up if you haven’t.” The woman chuckles, reaching out blind to smack Hyejin’s upper arm. “Hey, maybe even tweet something nice about our artists!”
“Knock it off and let them work,” Hyejin says, prying open one eye to meet yours. She offers a smile, apologetic, and sighs. “She’s just playing around. You can ignore her. It’s what I do.” She nods her head and leans it back once more.
Quietly, you get back to work. But you can’t help but feel like this woman’s incredible presence makes you paler somehow.
“What’s the point if it makes me unhappy?” Jungkook shouts, brows knitting, eyes growing watery. “The money, the lifestyle…what good is it?” his voice settles into a bare whisper, cracked.
“You only say that because you’re young! You’re stupid! You’re naive! You think things work out just because you want them bad enough?” says his costar, glancing down at the script every now and again as the two stand across from one another.
The set bustles on behind them, crew carrying tall lights and fixtures as they scuttle by. But Jungkook and his costar — a man named Namjoon acting as his older brother — continue their scene under the watchful eye of the cameras, trained right on them. Less of a screen test and more of a chemistry check between actors, Director Lim watches the monitor closely with his scrabbly chin in his palm.
“So what if I fail?” Jungkook asks with a quiver, referencing his script once to make sure he got the line right. “What’re you gonna do? Tattle on me to Dad?”
“I won’t have to,” Namjoon says, sighing as he grips the bridge of his nose. “He’s got his watchdogs trained right on you.”
Jungkook stiffens. “He’s been…following me?”
“I told you you’re too naive for the real world, Jiwon.”
Director Lim claps his hands and in an instant the tension and the scene are broken. Jungkook takes a respectful step back from his costar, and Namjoon offers him a bow of the head. Jungkook returns it, fighting off a nervous grin, and turns to the director as he circles around the equipment to stand in front of them. He’s a middle-aged man, handsome in a way with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes that seem to grab you and hold on like a snare. Jungkook is pinned in place like a bug in a shadowbox.
But Director Lim’s face splits in a crooked smile and Jungkook feels himself ease, exhaling long and slow. “Great job, boys!” he says, clapping both of their shoulders. “You were selling it well.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Jungkook replies too quick, like an eager child.
Director Lim chuckles, pats him again. “I’m praising you, kid. Don’t look so scared.”
He swallows hard. “I…I know. Um…thank you, Sir.”
Behind the trio, a group of stylists cart a rack of costumes quickly to the other side of the set, snagging the back of Jungkook’s shoe as they do. Jungkook stumbles to his knees, caught off guard, and the girls jerk to a stop as they catch themselves on the clothing rack. The two stare down at Jungkook, wide-eyed, and each of them covers their mouths. Immediately, they bow their heads in apology, both muttering sorry, so sorry almost too quietly to hear. Jungkook shakes his head and stands to his feet.
He too bows his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been standing there,” he says gently, hoping to assuage their concerns.
But the girls remain bowed, as if too afraid to even lift their heads. Jungkook, puzzled, leans down slightly to meet their eyes, but they glance away so quickly that he can’t even get a proper look at either of their faces.
“Um…it’s really not a problem,” he says, but before he can say more Director Lim approaches with a grim severity in his eyes. Jungkook, quick to stand up straight and face the director, stutters a little as he settles himself in front of the stylists. “It’s no big deal,” he says to Director Lim, but it’s like the man can’t even hear him.
“We were distracted, Sir,” says one of the girls, raising her head slightly to meet Director Lim’s gaze. “We are very, very sorry.”
“It really isn’t-,” Jungkook begins.
“You think it’s appropriate to crash into my actors? In the middle of a conversation about their performance?” Lim asks, but it’s clear the question isn’t meant to be answered. His tone has shifted into something cold. “You could have very well injured Jungkook.”
“I’m fine-,”
“But what if you weren’t?”
Jungkook shuts his mouth, staring helpless at the girls as they both stand up straight once more, eyes on the floor and hands knitted in front of them. He feels a hand on his back between his shoulder blades and jumps a little, turning quick to find Namjoon standing close.
“Don’t,” is all he says, voice terse and so quiet Jungkook almost doesn’t hear it, before dropping his hand and taking a half step back.
Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his hands work into balls as he stares. The lighting is low, dramatic as if a scene composed by Lim himself. The two girls lift only their eyes to gaze up at him.
“We’re very, very sorry, Sir,” says one of the stylists, guiding a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
“Mhm,” he says, looming. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again. Can’t afford to replace two stylists and a makeup artist in the same week.”
Jungkook simply stares, Namjoon’s warning freezing through him like ice. His limbs feel leaden. And as the two girls rush off, dragging their rack behind them, Jungkook focuses again on Director Lim.
He swivels back around to the two actors with a bright, fatherly smile. “Pardon me,” he says, waving his hand with a warm laugh. “Gotta keep the crew in check otherwise they’ll slack off.”
“Ha,” Jungkook puffs out in response, smiling in turn.
Namjoon hums a little. “Why don’t we try the reconciliation scene?”
“What in the world do you mean?” Hyejin yells into her phone just as she ushers you into her apartment. You eye her as her face grows red, her brows coming together. “He’s not quitting!”
Hyejin pauses to offer you an apologetic smile. She’s dressed in a modest pajama dress, padding barefoot along the cool marble floors. She leans against the arm of a nice black leather sofa, raises a hand to her flushed cheek, looks at her toes with vexation. Carefully, you set your makeup kit on her kitchen island, meeting her eyes with raised brows as if asking permission. She waves her hand, nods once before pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and her thumb.
“Listen, we knew Lim was difficult. But this is a huge opportunity for his career.” Hyejin rubs her kneecap, massaging. Her short hair falls along the line of her jaw as she dips her head in a deep sigh. “I know you know that, Seokjin. But you’re his manager. You’ve gotta keep convincing him.”
You begin unpacking your things, setting them neatly along the edge of the countertop, and try not to eavesdrop as Hyejin continues letting out chopped sighs. You can hear her fidget around the apartment behind you. She’d called you again, only a few days later, to secure you for another important event. A meeting, she’d said. You didn’t want to agree. Wanted to say you were too busy, that the commute was too much.
“Hey,” she whispers behind you. You jump, but turn nonetheless to find her cupping one hand over the phone’s receiver. Her eyes are severe, jaw clenched. “How long can you stay? This call might take a while.”
You raise your brows, think back over your schedule. “Hm…,” you respond, then shake your head. “I’m free all day. But…when’s your meeting?”
She stiffens, eyes flashing to the clock on the oven. “Shit,” she mutters. She approaches you with a frown. “I’ve only got two hours to get everything ready—Yes! Yes, I’m still here Seokjin. Stop panicking, for Christ’s sake—,” she says, her shoulders pinching. She glances at you again. “Um…”
You glance around the apartment. It’s spotless, as usual. But you spy in the corner beside a massive potted umbrella tree a taupe pantsuit, hanging beside a steamer. You’d have thought someone in her position would have sent it to the cleaners to be properly steamed, but perhaps it had slipped her mind. With the way she’s pacing around the apartment, still dressed in her pajamas, you wonder if perhaps she’s not as put together as you thought.
“I’ll steam that,” you say with a nod, pointing to the suit.
She stares at you, wide-eyed. “Oh, no. You don’t have to do something like that-,”
You shake your head. “No problem. What else do you need done here?” you ask, consulting your wristwatch with a hum. “If we keep it light, I can have your makeup done in forty-five minutes.”
She blinks at you. “Uh…well…,” she begins, then jumps a little as a voice in the phone shouts loud enough for you to hear. “No! No! Can you relax? I’ll talk you through it in just a minute! I’ve gotta sort some things out,” she shouts back at the phone. She turns her attention back to you with a sheepish smile. “Um, I need to steam the suit, wrap the fruits — they’re a gift for the client —, call the restaurant to confirm the reservation, shine my shoes, organize our documents chronologically and set them up in a binder,” she says.
You have to admit that the sheer volume of busywork has you taken aback. But you steel yourself with a bracing sigh, nod once, and offer her a smile. “Consider it taken care of,” you say.
“Ah! I…I really feel bad dumping all of this on you,” she says, crossing her arms with knit brows. “Normally I’d have my assistant doing all of this, but she’s ill.”
“Not a problem,” you say, smiling once more. “Just take care of your phone call and leave the rest to me! As long as we’ve got forty-five minutes for makeup, we’ll be fine.”
She lets out a sigh that seems to deflate her, shoulders slumping as if in profound relief. She nods once, smiling, and turns on her heel. “I’ll be in my office, alright? I promise I’ll be out in time!”
You give one wave as she rushes through a clouded glass door and shuts it behind her. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater and get to work on the suit.
Two hours later, and you’re accompanying Hyejin out into the apartment hallway. She pauses as the door clicks shut, waiting for it to give a chime, and turns to you with a sigh. She looks pretty. You had to rush a bit once she emerged from her office, and after taking care of the other chores you found it difficult to focus on her makeup, but you’re proud enough of your work given the circumstances. You’ve managed to match her eyeshadow to her pantsuit with gentle oranges and reds.
Since you were rushing to finish everything in time, the two of you hadn’t had a chance to exchange words. Perhaps you are curious — just a little — about the emergency she had to quell over the phone. Or maybe you just want a proper thank you. So you linger beside her in the well-lit hallway, you let your eyes wander to a potted fern in the corner by the elevator, wait for Hyejin to say something.
“I’m sorry,” she says, sighing. She glances at you through her lashes.
Your eyes go wide. “Hm? What for?”
“For having you do all of that,” she says, flitting one manicured hand. “I feel guilty.”
You shake your head. “No,” you say with a smile. “It’s no problem at all, honestly. You had me booked for an hour and a half anyway.”
She sighs again. “I really feel bad.”
“Don’t worry about it…,” you say, eyeing her. She crosses her arms, vexed, and purses her lips a little. “Um…was that call about an artist?” you ask.
She snaps back to herself, glancing at you. “Oh? Yes. That was about our biggest artist actually,” she says. “I think I’ve got it taken care of though, thanks to you.” She guides the two of you to the elevator. “I’ll pay you extra, alright?”
You laugh. “No, no. It’s fine! I’m just glad it all worked out.”
She stares at you, scanning you for a very long moment as the elevator rises to your floor. You try not to fidget, not to shrink under her scrutiny, but you feel yourself recoiling just a little. Her gaze is intense, knowing, as if she can see right through you and she’s looking for something. And as the elevator arrives, she gives a hum that sounds contented and you wonder if she’s found it.
Jungkook glances around the empty pavilion, scanning the cobbled streets for any sign of escape. From above, a dark mage is laying waste to the small shanty town. Not a single player has ventured out this way, all following a lead in the Elysian Forest to the west. But after you had mentioned a tip you got from researching at the Library of Arcana, you’d suggested visiting the seaside nook on the far south of the map. A legendary evil slumbers hidden, you’d recited over voice chat with a laugh, Sounds about right.
Only now, Jungkook’s alone. His hands are sweaty around the controllers in his palms and the realistic graphics are serving only to make him more nervous as the mage swings low near the central fountain and sets off a spray of fire just in front of him. Jungkook can almost feel the heat.
Jungkook had set out to do some scouting. Nothing extreme. Just a simple peek about, seeing if he could find any clues. He sent a message to the group chat, but he hadn’t waited on a response before he signed in. He’d had no idea that the Big Bad herself would come flying from the fountain the moment he touched the water with his sword. And now she’s circling him like some sort of hawk. Quickly, Jungkook calls up his inventory menu and searches through his items. A few extra swords he picked up, some ritual herbs, his old chainmail armor, some healing potions and…
The fragment…
If this mage takes him out, he’ll end up dropping his entire inventory. Including the fragment.
And by the time he can make his way back over here, other players will have come running from the commotion.
And the fragment will be gone.
“Shit,” he hisses out, dismissing the menu and focusing back on the mage as she releases a chilling cackle.
The quaint village is smoking, with thatched roofs catching fire and whole storefronts crumbling into piles of simmering stone. The sky is nearly blotted out with ash, and all he can see is that mage, swirling around up there in billowing black robes and shiny white teeth exposed in a wicked grin.
Jungkook glances over his shoulder toward the street he’d taken in to the village, but it’s too smokey to see anything more than the outlines of ruined buildings. There’s no way he’ll be able to navigate his way out of here without a lantern. And if it’s this smokey, he’s absolutely positive that nearby players have noticed. Which means more competition.
And more people to snatch his fragment when he falls.
The mage gives a cry, shouts her line, “Not enough yet?!”, and swoops down at a dizzying pace. Jungkook stumbles back, but he’s not fast enough. She’s approaching in a dark blur, too quickly for him to counter. A flash of regret washes through him as he squeezes his eyes shut inside his VR headset. He doesn’t want to see this.
He waits for a tense moment that way, anticipating the melancholy piano chords that accompany in-game death, but none come. Instead, he hears very keenly the sound of the mage grunting as if in pain. And, in an instant, he opens his eyes wide to see standing on the other side of the fount
⤑ Paring: Jungkook x reader (with a little bit Namjoon x reader and Taehyung x reader)
⤑ Genre: wolf!au, soulmate!au, collage!au
⤑ Summary: y/n has been feeling a certain darkness ever since she got her period. Something was calling her and one day that ‘light’ came into vision. You’d never thought however, that it would be a werewolf.
⤑ Rating: 18+
⤑ Warnings: mentions of rape, depression, smut, oral sex, window-sex, shower-sex, knotting, marking and animalistic behaviour.
⤑ Wordcount: 9.5k
⤑ A/n:hey!! This will be my first story on this account. I used to run another tumblr account, but I felt like I needed a new start hehe. Hope you enjoyed this one!
‘why is it so dark?’, you ask yourself as you try to see, but nonetheless fail to do so. It’s too dark. You can’t understand what you feel, but it has been the darkest feeling you have had in your whole life, though you might not yet be that old. It is creeping up on you, like a tiger or some other creature. It might’ve always been there, but never this strong. Never since this very moment. A white ray stands tall in front of you, all too sudden but not unwelcome. You feel like you need to be there, like this might be the place that brings you the peace you have been seeking. You know the feeling, the dark feeling, ends with this light. It all fits too well…
You take a step forward, but when you look down to see where you are walking on, you don’t see your feet. It’s only you, like a floating conscious. Even though it got you distracted for the smallest second, you knew this wasn’t important enough. The only thing worth doing right now is taking another step towards this warm and sunny light. Another step was taken and you feel your body heating up. Even though the light is your answer, you are still reacting to it in all the negative ways. ‘Is this what I need? It’s probably better than that horrifying darkness around us. Around me and this light’.
So without another thought, you take three more steps. There it is, right in front of you. You can feel your whole body reacting in heath, but you still feel save somehow. It’s resisting and it feels unnatural, but you haven’t felt as connected in so long with such a simple thing. You want it. No, you need it. And it also needs you. Two sides, two consciousnesses needing one another. But it doesn’t feel enough. You need more. You need to be closer. You need hi-.
‘Y/n? You are burning up! Are you okay? Wake up!’.
The sudden voice wakes you up in one simple snap. Your eyes spring wide open as you look scared towards your friend, who just as well returns that look. Namjoon puts his hand on your forehead. You flinch as he retracts his hand as fast as lighting, making a gesture as if your forehead is about a 100 degrees. ‘Damn y/n, that should be illegal. It’s way too hot. Please go to the nurses office’, he exclaims.
You put your hand on your heart, feeling how fast it’s beating. It’s so fast that you can feel it in your whole body. You are trying to recall your dream, but you only seem to remember that you felt a dark feeling. It must’ve been a nightmare. You check out your surroundings as you felt quite out of place, but you soon notice you are still in the comfort of your school’s library. You let out a breath, shaking off that weird experience and you try to calm down your body. ‘I think I had some kind of nightmare’, you inform Namjoon before picking up your pencil.
You have been working all night with your classmate. You were assigned to work together on a project. Since the both of you had a hard time to find a good spot in your agendas to work together, you found that only today you could really work on it. So you both took the chance and ended up working all night. You pull out your phone and you notice it’s already 11 pm. Your eyes widen. ‘Namjoon, why didn’t you wake me up? We really need to get going. Can we still get out of the building?’. He chuckles and shrugs. ‘Thought you could use some rest, you’ve only been gone for twenty minutes, so don’t worry. But you’re right. We should go home’. You let out a small sigh before clearing out your desk. He didn’t mean it bad, so you let it go. You both pack your things and go home.
As you walk your way to your dorm, you can’t help but feel that same creeping feeling. You feel that darkness. It’s not uncommon for you anymore. It has been a few years already, the moment you had your period. You have felt it ever since that moment. You can still remember the first dream about it. It was like just now, dark and alone. As if there was something or someone missing from your life. Your mother showed her concern about it and took you to a doctor, who gave you a number of a psychologist. There we thorough experiments, but no one could really tell what it was and how to get rid of it. At some point you found yourself at a more spiritual room. That was even more traumatic, as she just looked at you in fear and told you to leave within a few seconds. It got you thinking. Are you some kind of devil? Some kind of lost soul from another world, what certainly isn’t holy? This time though, this last dream, it was different. Different from your other dreams. You did feel the darkness, but there was something else. It felt refreshing and warm, something you haven’t felt in so long. Whatever it is, you hope that same feeling will return to you. And this time you won’t be woken up. This time it will stay with you.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader | [slight] Yoongi x Reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates!au, college!au, fuckboi!jk, enemies to friends to lovers
summary: Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He’s loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you’re absolutely bizarre. But there’s a silver lining — Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he’ll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungkook can continue perusing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn’t want to be the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
rating: 18+ sexual content.
warnings: protected sex, oral (f. receiving), handjob through clothes??, cumming in pants :D, slow burn, a lot of making out, titty sucking, cursing, alcohol consumption from parties, drug (weed) consumption (but not main pairing), marking with nails (not from y/n tho omg), jk sleeps around, and he’s a basketball player oof, honestly jk and y/n are just hella confused
word count: 20.6k
a/n ✑ it’s here, part uno! thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you enjoy this fic that was originally supposed to be 15k max… i appreciate all the support/motivation mwah mwah <3 the warnings for part two are included here as well (so if they dont show,,, it’s cuz it’s in the next one)
Holy hell, this was so good. the college/roommates/jock and fuckboy jk fic of my dreams. It’s everything you could want in a story that has all the classic tropes written so well, so entertainingly, so captivating that 20k words pass by and you feel so satisfied and full.
It’s funny and amusing. OC is hilarious and a ball of wholesomeness and I just want to protect her. Like, she’s not ur usual cliche awkward girl, the way jk isn’t ur usual asshole jock (maybe a bit) and their unlikely friendship is something you just want to wrap in a blanket and gaze at for how precious it is. You just feel the comfort. And yes, the desire - all those moments they shared were so, so hot they didn’t go overboard; it was the right kind of smut, the right kind of care and adoration. And I just feel the angst and many more happening in part 2 but this, this is gold.
Genre/Tags:single mom lawyer!OC x pastry chef!Jungkook; angst, fluff, smut; age gap
ChapterWarnings: foul/explicit language; single parenthood, motherhood; mention of a sexual harassment case; explicit sexual content (making out, straddling, ass slapping, oral (m & f receivin), protected sex, OC hates kinky pet names, love bites (18+)
Chapter Word count: 16.2k
Status:Ongoing
Series summary: Driven by your perfectionist attitude and need to have everything in order, you planned that by age 30, you’d have made junior partner, bought your own apartment, and have children. You achieved them, of course, and while the last bit required you to take matters into your own hands - no thanks to your ex-boyfriend who dumped you but to your best friend who directed you to a fertility clinic - you’re now a 31-year old who pretty much has her life under control. You’re ready to raise your child on your own, that is, until the 20-something pastry chef flirts his way into your heart, messing up the perfect little life you worked so hard to have for yourself.
A/N:2 to go! I hope it’s been a fun ride for you who joined me on this journey!
“Well, well, well. I never thought I’d see the day when Atty. Kim ___ would be openly and shamelessly flirting with one of my own,” Hobi smirks as he sits across from you in your favorite corner at Blue Side, laughing as he watches you bite your lips and hold back a smile while Jungkook tries to show off his coffee-making skills, smirking as he goes.
“And you, little angel,” the cafe owner continues, tickling Heejin who’s in a high chair. “What do you think of your Mamabeing all giddy about it?”
“Oh, she’s getting used to it. Getting used to him, actually,” you reply, cocking your head towards Jungkook who’s now boxing some eclairs for a to-go order but who cheekily smiles at you when he catches your eyes again.
“And how does that make you feel?” Hobi asks, sipping the iced americano he can’t go a morning without. “Also, can I just say? I love how you’re not denying anything. About time.”
“Okay, well there was nothing to deny before,” you correct, but feeling good that you’re able to properly talk about this with Hobi. “You know how things were for me, and Jungkook just didn’t fit into it. He was okay with being my friend but I knew he wanted more and I couldn’t give him that.”
“And what about now?”
“I think I can. This little angel and I finally can,” you smile, mirroring your friend’s sweet and infectious one.
“Who would’ve thought that my impulsive Singapore trip that one year would lead me to meeting Jungkook in the hotel where he interned and I got to snatch him up… only for him to, well, be my best asset and also be the reason why my favorite customer is as happy as she is right now,” he chirps.
“You’re glowing, ___. And Jimin says the same. I’m so glad it’s working out with you and Jungkook. I won’t say I’m not surprised because the kid is relentless, but he cares about you and Heejin so much. It makes me emotional just thinking about it.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, you know how he is. Jungkook is a ball of joy and innocence - for the most part, at least - and he’s just always taken life so lightly, so carelessly, searching for that next high, content with what he finds and what he loses. But ever since you and Heejin came around, things started to matter more for him,” Hobi narrates, like a proud older brother.
“He likes to joke around all the time but with you taking him seriously, trusting him, believing in him… that did a lot to him. Like he could be someone that another person can truly depend on, that they can trust, that they can one day love.”
You take in your friend’s words, thinking that as someone who’d taken a chance on Jungkook and who’d watched him grow professionally at this cafe, through the ups and downs of the job and what he had to go through because of you, this means a lot for him, too. Hobi and Jimin have always been cautious talking to you about Jungkook, not wanting to take sides nor push something to you knowing how you are. But with things looking up for you and the cheeky pastry chef, it seems that there’s more openness on their end this time.
And Hobi is right. Jungkook likes to enjoy things. He likes to have fun and treat life like a wave that he rides through, like he can just get back to the surface if he falls into the water and he’d be laughing as he gets up because it was a pretty amazing wave. And you like that about him; you like that confidence in himself that he’ll be okay whatever happens, that what matters is he even gets to experience something remotely beautiful, and somehow, you get to watch him do that.
He elicits a certain joy that’s child-like in a way but heartwarming, too. And he has that sense of wonder all the time. Whether he’s talking about some cave he explored during a trip somewhere, or narrating his multiple failed attempts before making the perfect napoleon, or going to a nearby beach to watch the sunrise, he looks at the world like it’s the first time he’s seeing it. And he makes you want to look at the world that way, too.
You can’t help but think that at some point, you took that away from him. Or at least, for the briefest moment when he was trying to get over you, the joy died down a bit. After the argument you had the other week about his neighbors and your own insecurity overwhelming you, you had time to think about all the things he said.
He talks about losing you like it’s his biggest fear, and for all the times that you’d been the one left behind, to have someone be scared of not having you in their life is different. It’s quite transformative, too.
“You know that I hurt Jungkook a lot, though,” you break out of your thoughts. “I can’t ever take those back.”
“I know. It’s easy to tell when his heart is breaking, too. Everyone kinda figures it out,” Hobi laughs. “We’ve had to talk a lot about that, what he was feeling and all, what he should and shouldn’t do. But all those times when it was hard, he did something harder - he kept still. He waited for you. This is a guy who rarely stops to think about what he’s doing and why and where he’ll go, but when it came to you, it was all he did.”
“Bet it was a new experience for you, huh?” You chuckle.
“Yeah, it was pretty heartbreaking. But I felt proud, too, in a way. It became clear to him what he wanted, what made him happy. And that was you and Heejin, and trust me, ___, he’s really happy. He’d talk about your weekend trips as if he’d never been to Nami or Seoul Forest before,” Hobi playfully shakes his head.
“Oh, god. That is so embarrassing. We’ve become thatcouple,” you cover your face in shame, to your friend’s amusement.
“Hey, it’s adorable!”
“What’s adorable?” Jungkook says, settling next to you as he places the breakfast croissant in front of you. “Me?”
“You being whipped for me and Heejin, according to Hobi,” you reply.
“Well, Dea tells me to shut up most of the time but at least the boss here thinks it’s cute,” Jungkook shrugs, bending to face Heejin and giving her a spoonful of strawberries.
“Hmm,” Heejin hums with her eyes closed as if she didn’t have those last night.
“What do you say to Kookoo, bubba?”
“Thank you, Kookoo!” She smiles, giggling when Jungkook kisses her cheek multiple times.
“You’re welcome, sunshine. Eat up, okay?”
Jungkook turns to you. “And you, too. You have a long day at work, so have this, then I’ll get you something for in-between meetings today.”
“What about my breakfast dessert?” You smile innocently.
“As an employee of this cafe who abides by the rules, I’m afraid I cannot give you free food, sorry,” he says teasingly. “You can suck up to my boss for that one.”
“Ugh, pine after me again. I miss the days when you’d give me free dessert.”
“You liar, you hated it!” He laughs, bending again to feed Heejin after she tugs his hand.
“Maybe just a little,” you admit. “But fine. I’ll just wait for the next time you get inspired and need me to taste test. Now go focus on work. Hobi and I are gossiping about you.”
“Be nice,” he mouths before heading back to the kitchen.
“I can’t decide if you two are like a married couple or teenage lovers,” Hobi chuckles.
“We’re both, I guess. Depends on how I’m feeling,” you shrug.
“It’s nice to see, though, you I mean.”
“It’s nice to experience it, too. After everything that’s happened, he lets me feel like I don’t need to apologize for who I am or what I’m not,” you share. “I don’t feel like I’m too much or not enough. Do you know how refreshing that is, to be exactly like myself and have someone who doesn’t feel threatened, who doesn’t ask for too much, who just… wants to be with me?”
“It is quite special, isn’t it?” Hobi smiles. “You and Heejin deserve all this, keep that in mind always.”
You nod in response, appreciating the friendship you’ve created with the radiant cafe owner that’s brought you here.
You both proceed to talk about the past weekend you spent at an amusement park because Taehyung and Sun-hee just suddenly felt like it. Jungkook was the excited one, joining your siblings in all the rollercoasters but enjoying the most when he went on the carousel and teacup ride with you and Heejin. He had her on his shoulders as you walked around while she pulled his hair in excitement, and Hobi coos at all the photos and videos you show him.
You’re finishing feeding Heejin when Jungkook approaches you again with a plate of eclair.
“This was this morning’s sample,” Jungkook says, side-winking at you but Hobi sees it anyway, earning both of you a high-pitched laugh.
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you chuckle.
You stop when you see your mother enter the cafe. She makes it to your table and greets each one, kissing Heejin on the cheek and then hugging Jungkook.
“Hi,Auntie.Are we going for pastry or French Toast this morning?” He asks.
“Oh, the French Toast, Jungkook!” Your mom chirps. “Still thinking about that one. Thank you, dear.”
“No worries. I’ll make it for you.”
Your mom settles on the seat next to Heejin. “So, this little one and I will cozy it up at home before we head out to lunch and some shopping. Do I drop her off at your place at night or you’ll pick her up?”
“I can pick her up at your place,” you respond. “I have a hearing in the afternoon and that might take a while.”
“Got it, honey. She and I will bond and have fun, so don’t worry about it, okay?”
You nod and then ready yourself to leave, kissing your mom and Heejin goodbye before walking to the counter with Hobi for your to-go order. Jungkook exits the kitchen with your mom’s order, scurrying to serve it to her then going back to you.
Dea hands you your coffee then Jungkook hands you a small box with some bite-size hazelnut-filled pastry.
“Thanks for dropping by my office this morning, ___,” he says, putting on his customer service smile.
“Well, I come for the desserts. And the coffee. They’re amazing,” you say.
“That all?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“And the staff. Dea over there is a chick,” you say, earning you a wink from her, as you’ve both come to enjoy teasing Jungkook.
He stands there looking absolutely charming with a pout and though you’d give in easily, you’re still gonna keep him sweating. You wave a barely amused Jungkook goodbye and head out.
[From: ___ ] Always love seeing you in the morning, Jungkook. I’ll call you when we get home, ok? Have fun at work!
**
Jungkook secures Heejin in the car seat of his sedan, leaning by the open door as he watches her play with her deer stuffed toy, her new favorite after that trip to Nami Island you all had the other week.
She squeals as she raises her arms, and he knows she’s a little antsy. She expended so much of her energy running around at daycare, he was told, and she’s still got some left.
“We’ll get home and play all afternoon if you want, alright sunshine? But I made something for Mamaover here so let’s ask her first if we can visit.”
It’s been months since the practice of Jungkook having at least one day a week of looking after Heejin. With the babysitter only able to come twice a week, usually anyone from your family or best friends offers but when the schedule is tight, daycare is your last resort.
Heejin gets moody and demands attention most days, you said, so you prefer to have her there as little or as short a time as possible, and Jungkook always offers his afternoons. He was met with curious eyes the first time you endorsed him as one from a long list of guardians who can pick Heejin up but by now, all the workers know him already, mostly as the guy who spins the little girl around when she runs to him.
It’s a Thursday and Jungkook took the opening shift so he could pick up Heejin in the early afternoon. You’ll be meeting with witnesses in one of the cases you’re handling today, you’d said, and that might take a while. He knows it’s scheduled in two hours, and with how your stress level shot up yesterday after some challenges in the case, he wanted to get you something to hopefully cheer you up.
You’ve been craving cherry desserts recently so he made you some cherry and dark chocolate mini tarts this morning, which he decided to be the featured dessert at the cafe today. It was a hit and was wiped out by lunchtime so he knows you’re going to like it. Initially wanting to surprise you, he decided otherwise, since you might feel uncomfortable with him carrying Heejin and showing up at your office uninvited.
He’d texted to ask if he could call and he’s surprised to see you calling him instead.
“Hey, that was quick. You okay?” He asks, as he settles in the driver seat.
“Yeah,” you huff in what sounds like exhaustion. “Just having lunch while Park and I go over some things. Have you picked Heejin up?”
“Just now,” he responds. “And you’re just having lunch? It’s almost 3PM. Did you have at least something since you dropped by the cafe this morning?”
“Three more cups of coffee, actually. But I’m fine. It’s hard to think about food with all the stuff going on. So are you both okay? Did you need anything?”
“We’re fine. Just thought you’d have a bit of a mid-afternoon break so Jinnie and I can pass by,” he says, suddenly thinking it might not be a good idea. You’re busy, after all, and him passing by might not even help.
“I made you something to nibble on but maybe we can just wait for you at home?”
“Oh, please pass by,” you almost plead, their presence the only breath of air you’ll have for the day. “I have some time before we leave and I’d love for you to come.”
“Okay, we’ll be there in a few,” Jungkook smiles, somehow excited at the thought that he gets to visit you at your office for something good, unlike the last time, then hangs up after you give him instructions.
“So, he decided to tell you, after all,” Jimin chuckles from in front of you. “He was gonna surprise you with Heejin and asked me if it was okay but he got worried you might not be too happy about it.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask.
“Maybe because you aren’t officially a couple and he might be imposing if he comes here with your daughter?”
“Is that what he thinks I’d think?” You wonder.
“Uh, yeah? It’s kinda weird. I almost think you’re rubbing off on him with how he’s thinking too much,” Jimin shrugs. “But you guys are… a couple, right?”
“I guess. But we haven’t really talked about it. Do we need a label for these things?” You furrow your brows.
“It’s not a label, ___. It’s just describing how you two are. I’d call you a family but I don’t know if you’re ready for that. I mean, are you?”
“Well,” you start, trying to make sense of all the thoughts in your head. “That’s kind of a loaded question, don’t you think?”
“It is, and an important one, too. Where else do you think this whole thing would lead? You didn’t go through what you did in three years just for you to be unsure of your endgame,” Jimin states.
“It’s more like, I’m not sure if he’sready for that,” you mumble. “Watching over Heejin and playing house is one thing. Actually being a father to her and mypartner in this life is another. I mean, of course I’ve thought about it but he hasn’t really raised it. I’ve been taking things so incredibly slow but now I don’t know if he’s just matching my pace or if he hasn’t thought about our future, like not just what happens in the next 5 years but the next 10, and 20, and more.”
“You know, I’ve known Jungkook for a good few years. And if there’s anything new I’ve learned about him just in the last three since meeting you, it’s that he would do anythingfor you to be happy,” Jimin says. “Whether your happiness is with him or not is entirely up to you, but I swear it, ___, he’d give you and Heejin the world if you let him, and that means sharing his life with both of you for the next 5 years, 10, 20, and more.”
It’s easy to imagine that kind of life with Jungkook. The way life works is kind of amusing, you think, as over two years ago, you couldn’t picture him as part of yours then,butnow, you can’t picture it without him in it.
Much as you want to hold onto that thought longer, your phone ringing ruins it, especially once you learn what’s got one of your associates panicking.
Outside of your room, Jungkook stands by the door with Heejin in his arms, who’s babbling as she hammers her bunny stuffed toy on his eyebrow piercing, something that she likes to do. It’s better than her trying to pull it off like those few times, so he just takes it.
“Hey, Heejin,” a familiar voice says.
Jungkook turns around. “Who’s that, sunshine?”
“Min!” She squeals, catching the attention of all the other employees in that side of the office.
“Hey, kiddo. Nice to see you here again,” Yoongi says, then faces Jungkook. “And you, too. Are you still going to surprise her?”
“Nah, I gave in and told her,” he chuckles. “Didn’t know what she’d think if the local cafe worker just dropped by her office with some desserts and her child.”
“More like, if the guy she’s super into just dropped by with sweets that will definitely make her happy and her daughter whom she trusts to spend the rest of the day with you?” Yoongi corrects.
Jungkook shyly smiles, not missing the way his heart swells at your friend’s words.
“She’s been having a tough day. I’m sure seeing you and Heejin will make it better, even if just for a while.”
Jungkook nods, and before he can say anything else, he hears Jin call his name.
“Oh, good, you’re both here,” he pats Jungkook’s arm and greets Heejin. “She has a meeting with the witnesses later and she needs to be at her best. She’s been jittery and it’s unlike her. I know how you and this little one calm her down.”
Jungkook decides to bask in the thought of your colleagues knowing how he affects you later on, but right now, what matters is getting to you. He knocks on the door and it’s his friend who meets him.
“Hey, Kook,” Jimin smiles. “And hey little angel,” he caresses Heejin’s cheeks. “___ is just in a call but you can go inside.”
Entering the room, Jungkook takes in the simplicity and organization of it. You’re seated on your chair, phone on your ear while massaging your temples, clearly in a state of mild distress as you nibble your lips and take multiple long breaths.
He looks around and smiles at the sight of the top of your shelf, with picture frames of you and Heejin, your family, your best friends. All your accolades and certificates are lined up on the second row, representative of what matters to you - even with how hard you work, your loved ones will always come first, but that doesn’t take away your commitment and passion for your job.
Jungkook stands by your table, carrying Heejin in a forward-facing manner now, just waiting for you to finish. He watches you state your case - some approach in speaking with the witnesses and instructing whoever’s on the other line on what to do, and it’s moments like this when he gets to admire you. It’s not you questioning a witness like those times he watched your trials on TV, but it’s the behind-the-scenes work that you’re doing, all the while ensuring that the people are safe.
“Make sure they’re okay, you hear me? We need them for this case but we need them safe and alive more than anything,” you say before hanging up.
You look up at him with tired eyes and a soft smile, as if the world is slowly crashing around you but there’s Jungkook and Heejin who are the only stable things remaining. You get off your seat and walk towards them, wrapping your one arm around him and the other on your daughter, sighing in relief at their presence and warmth.
“Hey, you,’ he whispers near your ear, the gruff tone sending another type of heat in your body. “You’ve got this, okay? And we’ve got you.”
You nod in response, briefly kissing his cheek then burying yourself in his embrace once more. You stand there with them for a few minutes, giving yourself this time to take the only breather you’ll have for the day.
You release yourself from their hold; any more time and you wouldn’t want to let them go.
“You said you got me something?”
“Cherry tarts,” Jungkook says, as he hands you Heejin whom you hug tightly and who yells your name.
“Oh, god. I’ve been craving cherry things,” you state, marveling at the pretty desserts in front of you.
“I know, that’s why they’re the feature at the cafe today. They ran out quickly.”
“And I get to have these?” You pout. “Jungkook, I know Hobi’s my friend, too, but this is still a business. You can’t keep giving me these things that you sell at the cafe all the time.”
“It was the first batch, and Hobi doesn’t really mind. He knows how many of our items are inspired by you and it’s little payment for how much my mind gets going because of it,” Jungkook winks.
“Fine,” you hum, taking a piece and feeling like crying at how good it is. “Seriously, you both and sweets are all I need. This is so good.”
He chuckles as he hands you tissue and your glass of water. He cups your cheek as you look back at him, just letting his presence ground you like all the times it has. He kisses your forehead and your eyes close reflexively, as if you’re melting at the feel of him doing something so simple yet intimate like this.
“Thank you,” you mumble, feeling like you’ve lost your voice at how overwhelmed and grateful you are. “I needed this. Thank you for coming. And, uh, you can come whenever you want to.”
“Okay, good,” he whispers as he kisses your forehead again, this time lingering. “But we don’t want to keep you since you’ve got some badass, queen things to do. So do well today, okay? We’ll be home, waiting.”
You don’t expect those last four words to affect you the way they do, and they’re truly the most comforting thing you’d heard from him. It just sounds certain, so final, and it’s exactly what you need to get through the day.
“I’ll see you at home,” you smile, kissing his cheek this time. “I’ll see you both at home tonight.”
**
The rain is hitting hard against your windshield, and the only consolation is that it poured right when you and your team finished having dinner at a restaurant a few streets down the nearest parking space. It had been a long evening, indeed, primarily because after the big blow to your case, you all had to debrief and then restrategize while the earlier conversations are still fresh in your minds. You called Jungkook then, saying you’ll be late and he said he’d already given Heejin a bath, something he’d recently learned how to do on his own.
Hitting a stop sign, your phone rings with Jin on the other end.
“You holding up okay?” He asks worriedly, something he tends to do when he knows you’ve got a case that hits close to home.
“Somewhat. The team’s more level-headed about it than I am.”
“You trained good lawyers, then,” he responds in an effort to encourage you.
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble.
“Let them do the groundwork and give yourself some time. You’re gonna figure it out. Also, I know it’s already been a tough day but don’t forget the conference that my father asked us to attend tomorrow morning,” he says, earning him a groan at the reminder. “Just take the afternoon off and get proper rest this weekend. That’s an order. I shouldn’t be receiving emails or messages from you once you leave the hotel tomorrow.”
“Got it, boss,” you tease, knowing he hates being called as such, then hang up.
You drag yourself to your apartment, your legs shaking from how much you’ve been pacing and walking all day, but knowing that on the other side of the door are the people you need to see and be with the most is what keeps you going.
The living space is dim, with but the accent lights turned on. Jungkook said he’d read Heejin a story and get her to sleep hours ago, and you wonder where he opted to stay. You push the half-open door of Heejin’s bedroom and your heart melts at the sight before you.
Seated on the single sofa next to the toddler bed is Jungkook, his feet up on the ottoman, with Heejin sleeping soundly on his chest and her favorite blanket over her back. He’s securing her with his firm hold on her thighs while making sure she’s still got room to breathe, and you can’t help but smile at her squished cheek against him, her mouth slightly parted as always, her breathing soft and steady.
Jungkook’s head is lolled back, his mouth slightly parted, too, with his breathing a little harder, and you can’t imagine how tired he’s been. He was up early for the first shift and spent all afternoon watching over Heejin, playing with her, feeding her, giving her a bath, and putting her to sleep.
He looks peaceful, though, so at-home and natural, like he’s been doing this for years; like he can keep doing this for more.
You kneel next to him, marveling at his beauty with the light from the lamp illuminating his features. He’s incredibly handsome, something you don’t think you’ve ever told him. There’s a softness in his face that contrasts the toughness of the rest of him, and with him, holding your daughter like this, there’s tenderness that captivates you.
Heejin is comfortable and that says a lot with how well he’d taken care of her today. And you know she wasn’t anxious being away from you. You know she had fun and felt safe, and that’s all that matters.
“Hey, you,” you whisper, not wanting to rush Jungkook in waking up. “I’m home now.”
It takes a while and you caress his cheek as you wait for him, enjoying the smoothness of his face and the way you want to smooch every inch of it if possible.
His eyes flutter open and a satisfied sigh leaves his lips once it’s registered that it’s you.
“Hey,” he hums. “What time is it?”
“11PM,” you say. “I’m a few hours late. It rained so hard, too; it was tough to drive for a while.”
“You okay, though? You ate well?”
“I did.”
“Okay, good,” he replies, shifting to sit up straight without disturbing Heejin then motioning for you to sit on the armrest. “This little one couldn’t sleep without you. I had to massage her, rock her, read to her, sing to her… all the works.”
“It’s because I was out the whole day,” you giggle, softly caressing her cheeks. “But I’m sure she enjoyed being with you today. Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Of course, ___. I loved today with her. She’s doing so well at recognizing more animals. And she’s saying the alphabet with fewer pauses now. And she was singing the tomato nursery rhyme.”
“Less yelling and actual singing?”
“Less yelling and actual singing,” he chuckles, knowing of Heejin’s tendency to yell everything she wants to say. “I took videos. I’ll send everything to you later.”
You smile and nod, taking his free hand in yours in thanks for how good he is to her, and all the while making sure that you’re not missing out on anything at all.
“We should lay her down. I’m sure you’re tired, too,” you say, standing up and taking Heejin to cradle in your arms.
You lovingly kiss her then gently put her in her bed, letting the mobile play because she likes to have the music on.
“Goodnight, Jinnie,” Jungkook whispers after you do, smiling softly as he watches her turn to hug the deer stuffed toy next to her.
You take his hand and guide him to the living room, motioning for him to sit on the couch where you snuggle next to him, humming in satisfaction as you wrap your arm around his torso and his wraps around your shoulder.
He’s gotten used to this, holding you at whatever time of the day while you fall into him, sighing in relief or exhaustion. He likes the gradual escalation, too, as your grips have come to signify something more than warmth. Security, he thinks, and perhaps desire as well.
But it’s comfort for you, first and foremost. You didn’t realize what coming home to this would do for your mind and your heart.
“Two of our witnesses in the sexual harassment case backed out today,” you say after a prolonged silence, which was spent finding the right spot for your head on his chest and taking in his Heejin-tinged scent.
“They’re crucial to the case but they got scared and I can’t blame them,” you continue. “It’s hard out there. Hard for them, whether they speak up or not. They lose either way and I can’t do anything about it.”
Jungkook processes your words. He’ll never fully understand what it’s like as a woman, but still, it only takes human decency to know that what those women went through is terrible, something no one should be experiencing in the first place.
“It’s the culture you’re fighting against, ___,” he says. “But you’re fighting it. Whether they speak up or not, they know you’re fighting for them.That’s a change in itself, regardless if it’s in the system or their lives, it’s still something.”
“Wise words, Mr. Jeon,” you smile. “Just what I needed to hear.”
“They’reyourwords, Atty. Kim,” he smiles back.
You look at him questioningly.
“I listen to you talk, you know?” He chuckles. “Everything you need to keep going is right there in that brilliant mind of yours, and in your heart. You just need someone to remind you every once in a while, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you huff, curling your legs on top of his lap.
Enveloped in silence, he places his hand on your leg, caressing it and eliciting a soft moan from you.
“I like this,” you hum, lifting your face to softly kiss his cheek.
“What, a leg massage?”
“Yes, that,” you chuckle. “But also, this.Having you hold me this way, listening to me, telling me things I need to hear. I know I’m a lot to handle most days but this, this is nice. To just have you next to me is so grounding, you know? Like it’s all that I need.”
“It is, huh?” He turns to look at you, his star-filled eyes that you always drown in meeting yours.
You nod in response and he strokes your cheek before kissing your forehead, then your nose. You feel all the words he doesn’t say in the lips that tingle your skin, and you know where else you want those on.
Yours.
So you move forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels too much and too little at the same time. You hold him there, familiarizing yourself with the sensation, with the emotion, with the tingle of his warm breath against your skin.
He parts his mouth and then it’s his taste you’re quickly getting addicted to, his tongue you’re entangling yours with in a sensual battle, his silver hoop that’s cold and comforting, his moan that’s bewitching. He inhales you like you’re oxygen, and you hold onto him like you’ll run out of it.
He responds by tightening his grip on your back, his other hand that was glued to your leg, now inching up to trace patterns on your knee, then your outer thigh, keeping it there to hold you both steady, as he feels the burning desire for you slowly take over.
It’s slow and amorous, with a tinge of desperation as you both try to get closer than you are, but it’s still tender and euphoric. He’s like a drug you can get high on, and any amount won’t seem to ever be enough.
He does the hard task of pulling away, breathing against you as his forehead meets yours, his eyes closed as he tries to wrap his mind around how good you taste, and smell, and feel like.
“You like that, too?” He smiles.
“Yes, very much,” you whisper back, placing your hands that have found purchase on his neck on his cheeks this time. “It’s been a while.”
“No shit,” he says, eliciting a laugh from you. “Sorry, I had to.”
“I guess I deserve that,” you smile. “But god does it feel so much better this time around.”
“Wasn’t good enough the last time?” He teases.
“I wasn’t ready the last time,” you correct.
It was good, definitely. You think about that kiss a lot.
“My bad. I’m sorry,” he says.
“Not in that way. You know what I mean.”
He nods, smiling as he looks at you constantly eyeing his lips.
He’d want more if this continues, so much more. Much as he’d been dreaming of this, he was caught off-guard, and he’s unsure if you’re ready for what morewould mean for him. Though he’s the more generous - and dare he say, desperate - one when it comes to physical affection, he wants everything with you. He wants it to be perfect, with no holding back, no doubts or questions, no fears or apprehensions. Just you and him and all the emotions kept in that can’t wait to finally be completely felt, returned.
“You had a long day,” he mumbles, kissing you deeply again. “And you have another long one tomorrow.”
“I’ve got that conference in the morning with Jin,” you confirm. “But he gave me the afternoon off. I think Heejin would love to spend her Friday with me, don’t you think?”
“Yes, she does. She kept calling for you every time you showed up in the videos,” he chuckles, pulling you closer by your legs and wrapping his arms around you.
“Hmm. We’re gonna have an afternoon of tickle fights and boyband music. It’s my stress relief.”
“Bet if she could talk back, she’d tell you to choose better music.”
“Don’t be a hater,” you playfully smack his arm. “Plus, she loves it! She jumps up and down when I play the songs, just like how prepubescent me was doing it.”
“She takes after you so much, it’s amazing.”
“Who else would she take anything from?” You chuckle. “There’s just me.”
And me, hopefully. One day, Jungkook thinks, but he keeps the thought to himself for now, not wanting to scare you with the life he’d planned - and hopes to have - with you.
“Do you feel better?” He asks after a beat of silence.
“I do, thank you,” you face him, letting that sense of calm you get from this intimacy with him overtake you.
He holds your gaze for a while before he fights off a yawn.
“You had a long day, Jungkook,” you say, the exhaustion from earlier coming back. “And you have another one tomorrow. And Saturday, right?”
“Dea and I will start with the prep work tomorrow,” he says.
A celebrity who’s also a regular at the cafe booked them to set up a dessert table for a baby shower on Saturday morning. He’ll be working all Friday for it and he’s anxious and excited at the same time.
“What time does it end?”
“Around 2. But we won’t stay. Only Hobi will,” Jungkook responds. “Dea and I will set up and the boss will do the socializing and promoting.”
“Hmm. Does that mean you’re free in the evening?”
“By the afternoon, actually. What do you have in mind?”
“A date. Just you and me. There’s this place I want to try,” you tell him, taking his hand in yours. “I feel like this is the longest we got to even talk this whole week and I’m thinking maybe you want to spend Saturday night with me.”
“It’s like I didn’t pine for you for three years, ___,” he laughs. “Of course. Let me know the plans after my event, yeah? I’ll be too excited and I might not be able to focus.”
“Okay,” you smile, knowing you have to let him go now.
You stand up and lead him towards the door, the thought of saying goodbye after sharing that heartstopping kiss with him makes you feel all kinds of loss.
“Just let me know when you get home even if I’ll be asleep by then.”
“I will,” he says, turning to face you after he opens your door. He kisses you again, one, two, three times.
You look at him with a mix of amusement and confusion.
“For every year that I yearned for that,” he says simply, certainly.
You want to go for another round, maybe do more this time. You definitely want that. But it’s been a long day and the only thing you want more than him is a warm bath followed by your soft sheets.
You merely nod in response, not trusting yourself with words this time. “Good night, Jungkook.”
“Good night, ___. I’ll see you soon.”
**
“Alright, bubba. Be honest. How does Mamalook?”
Heejin is propped up in the middle of your bed, playing with her toy bus, which she deems as infinitely more interesting than you.
“Bubba, look at me, please?” You pout, as if your almost-three year old can fully comprehend what you’re asking of her.
She throws her toy on the floor and you pick it up, hiding it behind your back and asking her again.
“DoesMamalook pretty, bubba? Do you think Kookoo will think so?”
“Mama!Bus please,” she whines, hands reaching out for you.
“DoesMamalook nice? Yes or no?”
“No,” she shakes her head, and this goes in the list of times you wish it wasn’t her favorite word.
“Okay, thanks for the encouragement, bubba. Let’s just wait until Kookoo gets here and then we’ll see. Thank you, I still love you,” you say, planting a kiss on her forehead and returning her toy.
“Kookoo! I want Kookoo!”
“I know, bub. But he’s mine tonight, okay? I promise, you’ll be with him tomorrow,” you smile.
It’s another second that you let yourself question if you’re being selfish with this - asking your mom to care for Heejin overnight so you can spend the evening and hopefully until the next day with Jungkook. Ever since that kiss you shared two days ago, it’s all you could think about.
You won’t lie and say that a part of you expected he’d take it further, perhaps a longer makeout session where he’d lay you down and kiss you all over, maybe have his hands explore your body and ask to stay the night.
But he didn’t, and much as you’d hoped for that - even if you were the one taking your sweet time in the first place - you slept that evening with a tight knot in your belly, and you’ve just been waiting for it to uncoil.
You barely spoke to him yesterday and he’s been busy all morning. He took a nap once he got home so he could be fully present for you tonight, he’d said, and the thought itself is making you giddy, excited.
There’s no more hiding or tempering what you feel. And you wanna be able to tell him that, show him that. And you hope he’ll still take what you can give.
You look at yourself one last time in the mirror and manage a smile. You don’t even recall the last time you wore this dress but you’ll definitely remember tonight.
The doorbell ringing startles you and it’s probably because of how anxious you are.
You and Jungkook have gone on dates but tonight is different - it’s a lot fancier and well, your mom convinced you to let her take Heejin for the night after you spent the whole afternoon talking about Jungkook and she had to remind you that it’s okay to want this for yourself.That includes spending a night with him. Doing so doesn’t make you any less of a mother. Part of parenthood is choosing things for yourself once in a while. You need to teach your daughter how to choose herself, too, your mom reminded you.
You place Heejin on her mini couch and you walk towards the door, your breath catching in your throat at the sight before you.
You’ve seen Jungkook in a variety of outfits of all colors - mostly monotone with pops of color every now and then. He’d sported less casual wardrobes the few times you went on dates and they always left you speechless with how sophisticated they looked, and tonight is no exception.
He has on a black silk polo with a few buttons undone underneath a burgundy velvet jacket and black slacks, which are deliciously tight enough for you to appreciate his toned thighs. His hair is slicked back with a few strands of it dangling at the side like how those Hollywood leading men would do it. It’s a mix of youthful and mature, but sexy nonetheless, especially with his pierced brow and lips; he definitely upped his game tonight.
He revels in the way your mouth opens and closes, your eyes raking all over him, something he’d caught you sneakily do a few times recently, but it’s the first time you’re openly ogling at him and he’s got to admit, it’s the confidence boost he badly needs.
“Find your voice yet?” He teases, cocked brow and all.
“Now I have,” you get back to your senses. “Just not used to you dressing up all grown up and stuff.”
“Then how have I been dressing up the other times?” He chuckles, finally entering your apartment.
“Well, the oversized everythingscreamed too casual and like, uh…”
“Boyfriend?” He smirks. “I mean, that’s what I’ve heard you say a few times to Hobi when you’re at the cafe.”
“Eavesdropping on your customers? That’s not nice.”
“Hey, I just happen to hear you two when I serve people since, you know, I work there? But that’s besides the point,” he says, voice dropping a few octaves. “Is that what I am? A… boyfriend?”
“Is that what you want to be?” You say, matching his tone.
He walks closer to you, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you closer.
“Yeah,” says, his gruff voice in a whisper sending chills down your spine. “That would be fucking amazing, actually.”
“Okay,” you say, meeting his eyes. “Do the boyfriend thing and kiss me, then.”
He glances at Heejin who’s engrossed in watching Pororo run about, and he turns back to you, his smug face the last thing you see before your eyes fall closed at the feel of his lips on yours.
You didn’t realize how much you’d miss it with just a day being without it, and now all you want is to drown in his kiss that’s gentle and desperate at the same time. His motions are smooth, but the rest of his body is tense; you feel the eagerness and the hesitation. So do you.
Your heads barely move and your mouths part only minimally, but you can taste his strawberry chapstick and the mint he’d just had. His tongue lightly brushes past your lower lip, like a tease of what he wants, of what more he can give, and sometimes you wonder why you ran away from this all those years ago.
But when you think of how easily you almost fell into this, you’re reminded of why you had to turn your back on him then. If at the end of all of that, you get to have this,then maybe it’s all been worth it.
Jungkook pulls away again this time, smiling giddily at your post-kiss face, and then pecking your lips. “I may have ruined your lipstick a bit.”
You wipe the taint of it on his lips and giggle. “And I’m glad you did.”
You motion towards Heejin, who you say has been looking for him, and you watch him as he kneels in front of her for a hug, asking what she’s watching, and then listening to her talk about the show that’s on.
“You ready to go to Mom’s,bubba?” You ask, joining them. “She’s taking you to a light show tonight. You’ll be good, alright?”
“Yes,Mama!” she squeals, hugging you back as you nuzzle her nose.
“So come, Kookoo and I will take you to her.”
Jungkook carries her as you all make it to his car, the drive to your mom’s apartment, a surprisingly short one on a Saturday evening. Your mom’s ecstatic and smug face reveals too much, even more so as she keeps reminding you and Jungkook to “have fun” and “make the most of your time together.”
“We will, but please call when you’re putting her to bed,” you say.
“I will. Now you lovebirds, leave our apartment now.”
You and Jungkook eventually do, but not without multiple goodbye hugs and kisses on Heejin. She indulges you only briefly because the newly-assembled dollhouse catches her attention and then it’s like you don’t exist anymore.
Jungkook takes your hand as you both walk to the car, something he does while he drives as well, and throughout dinner.
You chose a fancy Japanese restaurant as per Jin’s suggestion and you’ve always sworn by his recommendations. Their array of interesting dishes got you and Jungkook feeding each other, then listing the other places you both want to try. It’s a few hours of him making you laugh, gushing over Heejin as you both watch the videos from the other night, him randomly taking your hand to kiss, and looking into your eyes while you speak.
He goes from the charming Jungkook with the shy, boyish smile and nose scrunch to the confident, lip-licking man with a hypnotizing gaze in seconds - he’s been giving you a whiplash all night.
You, on the other hand, have been letting yourself drown in all that he’s giving and doing to you. No more walls up or any other apprehensions unlike before. This time - as you’ve been the past several months - you feel safe enough to be yourself, desires and flaws included.
You both head back to the car for a quick drive to your final destination for tonight. It’s right when you enter that you get a photo of a sleeping Heejin on her belly, cheek to the side with her butt propped up.
“What was she doing?” You laugh right as you call your mom.
“She didn’t want to sleep yet so we were watching TV,” your mother shares. “The channel stopped at a musical and she wanted to keep it there. She was bobbing her head and clapping and found her position, fighting off her yawns until she gave up. It was so adorable, honey.”
“Okay then, guess it’s musicals for us for the next few weeks. But thanks, Mom.I’m sure she enjoyed her time with you guys.”
“Oh, she did. She wouldn’t play with the dollhouse unless Jung-jae was next to her. She’s really comfortable with him already.”
“That’s great to hear.He’s a constant now, too,” you respond. “But she’s good? Sleeping soundly in bed and all?”
“Yes, honey. Looks like she’ll have a good, long sleep. Jung-jae and I will bring her to you first thing in the morning so she won’t throw a tantrum when she wakes up without you,” your mom offers. “Would 8 be fine? Just let me know if you want us to drop by later, though. Don’t want to ruin any morning shenanigans or something.”
It’s her teasing and sultry tone that makes you gasp, and you hear Jung-jae laughing next to her, telling her to leave you and Jungkook be.
“Alright, I will. You lovebirds enjoy tonight, okay? I mean it.”
She giggles this time, and she hangs up before you even say goodbye.
Jungkook doesn’t say much, having only faintly heard the conversation. He stops the car and wraps his arm around you as you both walk two streets down to an alley.
It’s one of those hidden cocktail bars in the city, with an unassuming facade hiding an elaborate interior. Taehyung suggested this place when you asked your family for bar options, as he’d done gigs here before for jazz nights. The high ceilings and dim lights, the soft music, and the couches made for two make it a nice place for enjoying each other’s company.
Jungkook sets his one hand on your waist while the other draws circles on your exposed knee that’s brushing against his, only removing it when he takes a sip from his drink.
“Jinnie doing okay at Auntie’s?” He asks.
“She is,” you smile, sharing what your mom had said about their day, to Jungkook’s delight. “But I miss her already.”
“I do, too,” he sighs. “But I like this,” he adds, meeting your eyes.
“I like you,” you respond, catching him off guard, his eyes instantly widening at your declaration.
“That’s, uh, that’s nice to finally hear,” he beams before hiding his face in your neck as he tries to get himself together.
You laugh at his response, caressing the back of his head and pecking the side of it.
“Yah! What’s with the reaction? It’s not like it isn’t obvious. We’ve been going on dates,” you say, pushing him up to face you. “And I’ve been kissing you.”
“But it’s different to hear you say it, after all this time.”
“I guess I just got caught up in what we finally are that I didn’t bother to verbalize it,” you narrate, something that’s unlike how you normally are because you tend to lay out in words the things you’re experiencing and thinking to be able to make sense of them. “And I realize now that I don’t think I’ve changed much from the last time. Maybe I haven’t been fair to you.”
“What are you talking about?” He looks at you curiously.
“Back then, my siblings used to give me shit for treating you like that puppy I found adorable and would pet and stuff but wouldn’t actually want to keep,” you admit, recalling how they always found a way to remind you of the analogy they came up with.
“You just always stood by next to me whatever I was doing and years passed and it was kind of like that again, right? You’ve just been waiting for me to be ready all these months and it took so long before I could even say it, before I even considered giving you anything.And I’m sorry I haven’t been giving you much.”
“Hey. You’ve been giving me a lot,” he comforts, lifting your chin to face him. “I knew what I was getting myself into the first time, and even now. And not once did I feel impatient or that it was all for nothing. You’ve given me your time, Heejin’s time, your trust, your heart… and I’ve been happy, ___. Really happy.”
There’s contentment in his eyes when he says the words, but even then, there’s a tinge of hope, and something else that he holds back. And for all the times that he’d been the transparent one, with you having control of your emotions, it seems that the roles have been reversed, as you feel like baring everything to him while he maintains as much composure as he possibly can.
“I am, too, Jungkook,” you say softly, inching closer to him, taking in his sandalwood scent he’s chosen over his usual sporty one.
You’re internally grateful for the bit of privacy you’re being afforded, although looking around, you don’t seem to be the only couple that finds themselves in an intimate moment.
“You make me feel things I’ve felt before… but in extremes. Like, there’s this longing when you’re away, and this unabashed joy when I’m with you. I’ve sort of conditioned myself not to feel too much so it’s kind of overwhelming sometimes, but in a good way. Like it’s all these amazing things all at once and I don’t know what to do with them, but at the same time, I can’t be without them, without you.”
Jungkook merely gazes at you as a satisfied smile forms on his face.
“Not used to you being speechless,” you chuckle.
“I’m not yet immune to you, you know? You still surprise me.”
“And what if I don’t anymore, would you still want me then?”
“Always,” he says instantly, certainly.
The lights are dim and the nearest customers have just left, and the desire that’s been gradually growing since he showed up looking like pure sin in your doorway overtakes you. You lean forward and kiss him deeply, your tongue sliding inside his mouth to let him know what you want from him. It’s like time freezing as the tension melts away; like sucking the air out of him, and when you part, he breathes heavily like it’s exactly what you did.
“My apartment, please?” You pant, your forehead leaned against his, eyes closed just like his.
“Okay,” he huffs, stealing a soft kiss before paying the bill and then heading out.
Jungkook has to choose between walking quickly to get to your destination faster or strolling so he could savor this moment with you - walking underneath dim street lights, your satin midnight blue dress flowing up to your shins.
He chooses the latter, as you seem to want to savor this, too, much as you seemed to yearn him so much just minutes ago.
It’s his turn to steal a kiss when you both enter the car, and the ride home is filled with tension that you know how to resolve but need to wait more time to actually address.
You arrive at your apartment without making any public scene, letting the tension follow you there.
“Kind of unusual coming here without Heejin squealing or laughing or yelling at us,” he chuckles, pulling you from the back for a hug, his head nestling at the crook of your neck - another new intimate act that you already want more of.
“I know,” you say, shivering at the kiss he makes near your ear. “But Mominsisted on having her for the night and bribed her with whatever. They’ll come tomorrow morning. And I agreed because, well, I really wanted to be alone with you tonight,” you add, turning around, your hungry eyes raking all over him.
“You did, huh?” His gaze locks on yours, all the desire he feels reflecting in it.
He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about your lips on his since the other night, and he can’t help it when his mind starts to conjure all the other things he wants to do. He has to control his thoughts so he doesn’t expect too much - of what else you want to do physically, and what that would mean for your relationship.
He realized that when it comes to you, he regards things much more deeply, meaningfully, and so every act and word holds so much - his fears, his desires, and hope with and for you.
“Yeah, I—” You whimper at his sudden grip on your waist, glancing at his parted mouth, mirroring the way your tongue licks your lips, aching to feel him there.
You can feel the heat radiate off his body with how close he’s gotten, as you feel the rush of desire overtake your own. Your heart beats rapidly, anticipating what’s to come next, and for the seconds that feel like more, he rests his forehead against yours, your noses grazing while you breathe each other in.
He gives in first, cupping your cheeks as he angles your mouth to fit his. His tongue slips in, exploring you in this way, and you fall right into it with him, gripping the collars of his polo as you meet his fervent action. It’s messy and raw and unsteadying, and you feel like you’re in a haze of some sort as you try to take all that he gives all at once.
His hands move to your waist as he continues to kiss you, parting only very briefly. He nips and licks and sucks your lips, your joint moans gradually getting louder. He slowly pushes you backward until you hit the armrest of the couch, and you lean on it as you feel like you’re losing balance with how much of yourself you’re giving with this kiss.
“Fuck, I can do this all night,” he groans, his mouth descending to peck on your jaw and your neck.
“Just this?” You moan teasingly.
“What else did you have in mind?” He turns to you, his lustful eyes turning curious.
“Everything,” you heave, taking his hand and guiding it to your breast. “I don’t want us to hold back.”
He strokes it only gently, and much as you know that at some point, it would lead to this, you’re slightly worried why he doesn’t seem as into the idea of doing it right now as you expected. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he speaks.
“I won’t want to turn back after this,” he says pointedly, eyes locked on yours to make sure you know he means every word. “I’m gonna want more. I’m gonna give you and Heejin the whole world, you have to know that, but I’m gonna need you to want this with me.”
You hear the mix of certainty and desperation in his voice but unlike all the times he’d spoken in this way, you know that you want it, too. Whatever it is, you want it.
“Okay,” you pant. “I want more, and I can give you more.
“Okay,” he gasps, pecking your forehead, then your nose, then your lips where he lingers. “Good. That’s good.”
You both kiss again like you’d done earlier, but with more need this time. It’s heated, even messier, more intentional, and louder, too.
You push the jacket off his shoulders and he pulls you much closer, his hands sliding down to your ass, which he squeezes intensely. Pulling up your dress, he does it again, lightly slapping the cheeks as he gets into the moment.
You moan into his mouth, bucking your hips against his to let him know how it affected you.
“Fuck, you like that?” He rasps, nipping at your neck now.
“Yes,” you answer, moaning even louder when he does it again, a little harder this time.
You’re lost in his scent, in his heat, in the way his mouth explores whatever he can at this position, and the dampness in your underwear only says what more you want from him.
Guiding him towards the couch, you lightly nudge him to sit, gazing at him hungrily before settling on his lap, kissing him again like you’re memorizing every inch of his mouth and his lips that you can’t get enough of.
While his hands knead your ass and simultaneously push you to grind against his aching cock, yours hurriedly unbutton his polo, wanting a taste of what you’d seen that afternoon at the pool. You’d thought of how he looked underneath all the clothes he wears and you finally get to do more than just imagine all of that.
After undoing the last button, you palm his chest, toned and smooth as you’d expected, his pert nipples exciting you as you flick them to his delight. Your lips detach from his, then you briefly gaze at his bare body, and move towards his chest, your open-mouthed kisses all over it intensifying his desire, and he’s the one who’s now unzipping your dress from behind.
Pushing you to sit back up, Jungkook meets your glazed eyes, and he slowly pulls down the straps off your shoulders, followed by your bra to reveal half of your breasts, your own pert buds teasing him.
He pants as your fingers trace the dips of his abs, and unable to just sit and marvel at you any longer, he attacks your breasts, taking one in his mouth, ravishing it as he fondles the other.
The pleasure is immediate, as the way he swirls and strokes your erogenous region makes you feel suspended, especially as he does so in a carnal yet passionate way. You grind against him, feeling his stiff length poking your stomach. Your hands grip on his taut back, feeling its tense muscles as he exerts all his effort on making you feel good, which he knows he’s doing so well at, given your expletives and moans that keep getting louder.
“You sound so good,” he groans in your ear, another sensitive part of you, something he’s figured out, as he nibbles and licks its shell, and he instantly feels the hairs of your arm raise at the action.
You hum, pushing him to lean back again so your eyes could rake all over his body, liking the way the dim light illuminates the beads of sweat on his chest, and with him panting like this and seeing the hunger in his eyes while also knowing he’ll get to do more, he’s absolutely stunning.
“Done admiring?” He asks cheekily.
“Yes,” you reply after a beat of silence, though you doubt you’d ever get enough of see this. “You?”
“Need to see everything first, babe,” he smirks.
So you stand up, unhooking your bra then fully unzipping the dress that’s pooled on your waist, doing so in a sensual manner as you slowly reveal more of yourself to him, liking the way his eyes widen in shock and lust at the same time.
You’re left with nothing but your silk thong, a shiver running down your spine when he moves towards the edge of the couch, his hands caressing your outer thighs before groping and slapping your ass cheeks once more.
“Can’t get enough of these,” he moans, not matching the tender way he kisses your torso.
You cradle his head, and he’s suddenly reminded of all the times he used to see you do this. He looks up at you teasingly.
“Hmm, this is what it’s like.”
You remember it, too, and you laugh at the way he nuzzles your belly then smirks at you, like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. You’d been in a lustful mood just seconds ago, and he brings you back in it as quickly as he took you out, as he starts sucking on the skin that leads to your cunt.
He glances at you while he nibbles at the hem of your underwear, his fingers teasing your lips and feeling the dampness that’s pooled in there. Slowly, he removes the last piece of clothing you have on, staring at your hooded eyes while he does.
Now completely bare in front of him, he brings you with him as he sits back on the couch, having you straddle him again, your mouths touching once more, the fervent actions at pace with your thrusting hips.
“You’re so wet, I can feel you all over me,” he mumbles in your ear, pushing your core down to grind against his clothed crotch.
“Need your mouth to do something about it,” you groan, as the ache in your cunt starts to get unbearable, needing relief.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader | [slight] Yoongi x Reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates!au, college!au, fuckboi!jk, enemies to friends to lovers
summary: Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He’s loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you’re absolutely bizarre. But there’s a silver lining — Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he’ll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungkook can continue perusing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn’t want to be the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
rating: 18+ sexual content.
warnings: protected sex (twice..), oral (f. receiving), rough sex (1), a lot of making out, orgasm denial (for two secs methinks), titty sucking, cursing, alcohol consumption from parties, jk sleeps around (but not anymore?!), the basketball team is kinda disgusting, jk lowkey (highkey) be staking his claim but it’s seen in y/n pov, honestly jk and y/n are still hella confused
word count: 15.3k
a/n ✑ part dossss! thank you so much for waiting!! i adoreee this couple and i hope you enjoy the rest of their journey too <3 appreciate all of you guyss <33 (also there’s like.. one epilogue scene teehee)
My heart clenched and ached and soared in all the best ways in part 2. I was expecting it to go a certain way - like OC, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the pot to boil over, for nasty things to happen, but I was pleasantly surprised and I wouldn’t have had it another way. The way the story headed was perfect for me - it wasn’t so much as the outside world they were against; what was happening outside seemed to just keep pushing them towards each other and it was beautiful how it all came together.
All the emotions, the acceptance, the fears and worries - all valid and handled so well. The smut, again, was glorious. But you could feel all the unsaid words in them. You could feel what they were feeling and that’s not easy to do. Everything about this story was written so well. Like your favorite rom-com with absolutely adorable characters. They’re one of my favorite couples ever. Thank you so much for writing this and making me all giddy, turned on, emotional, and happy
Jungkook stands in front of you in the open space of his dark lounge, you’re sitting on the sofa cross-legged and teary eyed as you both watch the news in horror. Toying with the hem of your white t shirt you can’t stop the cries from cascading down your cheek, the tape has been leaked to the public.
“Taehyung will fix this, he’ll get it deleted,” Jungkook nods as he reassures himself, eyes glued to the television, news reporters going into vivid details about your final night in Bora Bora - including an audio clip of the conversation that followed some of the most intimate moments of your life, “He’s the best attorney money can buy, I’m not just saying it because he’s my friend he’s going to fix this—”
“How could you do this to me?” You whisper, gaze finally meeting his.
“You thinkIdid this?” He’s hugely offended, his hooded eyes animatedly large and round, contrasting to his sharp set jaw, “You actually think I did this?” His voice is raised.
Standing from the sofa you frown, “Did you send the video to one of your friends? Is that it? Is that how this has happened?” You want to believe he’s not capable of something like this but all the evidence is against him – he filmed the video, on his camera, he was the only one with a copy. “Was it just something to send to your group chats? Is that what it was to you?”
“That video was for me and you, nobody else—”
“Then how has this happened?! Explain to me why it’s all over the internet!” Your heart hammers inside your chest as you scream, thrashing your arms about as adrenaline courses your veins.
At this Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down, “I-, I don’t know.” He exhales, ridding himself of his grey hoodie before he throws it on the sofa, leaving him stood wearing a plain black t shirt.
“Bullshit.” You spit, “You’re the only one who had the video, you expect me to believe you didn’t have something to do this?”
“Why would I do something like this? Hm? Financial gain? Last time I checked I don’t need the money. So what other reason would I have to do this?”
“You tell me.” You scoff, shrugging as you wipe away your tears.
The realisation that you genuinely believe he’s the one to blame suddenly dawns on him, he’s shocked and insulted to say the least, “Y/N I didn’t fucking do this, why would I want anybody to see that video? I’m on it too.”
“Right,” You laugh, though there’s no humour in your tone, “Because this is going to end so badly for you. The only thing that’s going to happen to you is now everybody knows that you’ve got a big cock, guys are going to high-five you and congratulate—”
“Stop it.” Jungkook bites, “I didn’t leak the video.”
“You know what will happen to me?” You’re furious as you continue ranting, wiping your cheeks with shaky hands, “I’ll be known as the slut that billionaire playboy Jungkook fucked. I’m just another name in your little black book! The sugar baby that he spanked in a beach hut—”
“I said stop it!” His voice is louder, “You’re my girlfriend, I’m not going to let that happen.”
“It’s already happened!” You shriek, “I wasn’t your girlfriend in Bora Bora, the media already know what our situation was back then it’s all anybody’s been talking about for the past two days. It’s all over the fucking news Jungkook! The news!”
“You don’t think I know that?!” He growls, “You think this is easy for me? Knowing that people have watched that video?” He’s pacing the room now, fingers pushing his hair back in a hurry.
“Oh I’m so sorry that you’re having a hard time, it must be so difficult knowing that the whole world knows you’re good in bed!” You know you’re being irrational with him, you know it’s hard for him to digest the events of the past three days but you can’t bring yourself to look past the fact he’s the one who’s done this.
“Y/N.” He laughs unamused, shaking his head in disbelief, “Nobody feels worse about this than me.”
“What about me?” You’re quiet, “Do my feelings mean nothing to you?”
“Of course not! That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean Jungkook? You think that you’re worse off than me in this situation? Knowing that men have watched that thing and… I feel violated. I feel sick. I haven’t slept because I know that it’s spreading like wild fire, I can’t even get into my apartment building without the paparazzi asking me for more adult content.” You’re sobbing now, your breath shaky and shallow.
“You think I don’t feel violated?!” His voice is hoarse as he yells, staring down at you with a face of thunder, “Somebody has leaked a video of me having sex with my girlfriend, not some random girl I don’t care about - my girlfriend. I feel disgusted that people are watching that thing and ogling you without your consent. My fucking parents are devastated, I’m devastated, why don’t you understand that this is hard for me too?!”
“You really expect me to believe that you’re not responsible—”
“You know what? Yeah. I do expect my girlfriend to believe me when I say that I didn’t do this, and the fact you don’t says a lot about what you think of me.”
“Why else would you want to film us in the first place?” You can barely make out his face through your tears, he’s standing two feet away with an expression that can only be described as hurt. “Did you plan for this to happen?”
“Don’t,” He warns, refusing your questions, “In hind sight, it was a fucking stupid idea. If I could go back and change it trust me I would.” There’s a moment of tense silence before he opens his mouth to speak again, “Y/N this wasn’t me, I didn’t do this, I could never do something so… disgusting and inappropriate to you.”
“Disgusting and inappropriate…” You repeat, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat, “You mean like when you wanted to pay me for sex thirty minutes after meeting me?”
At this Jungkook stills entirely, it’s his turn to cry now – he stands in front of you with watery eyes, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as though that will catch his emotions before they escape, “That’s enough.”
There’s an uncomfortable silence, you’re rightfully upset and angry but even you know that was too far. You try to steady your breathing, toying with the idea of apologising before his words interrupt your thoughts.
“You really think I did it don’t you? That I leaked the video?”
No words are exchanged, instead you nod slowly and look away from his desperate profile, settling your gaze back to the television which is still reporting the story about you both. For obvious reasons the video can’t be aired on TV, so the news stations have settled for a screenshot of you laying beside each other in bed, his arm draped over your waist as he was about to confess his feelings for you, dazed and fucked-out beneath the sheets.
“But what I don’t understand is why…” Your voice is merely a whisper, “Why you would string me along for so long, just to publicly humiliate me break my heart.”
“If you genuinely believe I’m capable of this, you really don’t know anything about me.”
“No,” You grab your bag from the sofa and throw it over your shoulder, looking him dead in the eye for what you assume will be the last time, “I guess I don’t.”
“Y/N wait.”
You don’t look back.
Jungkook watches you leave his apartment with an aching heart, no sooner than you’re hidden behind the golden doors of the elevator he breaks down, sinking to the ground in floods of salty tears. Unbeknownst to him you too are bawling your eyes out as you exit the building, hiding your face from the dozen camera men that wait for you outside.
glimpse: you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.
alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
warnings:semi-heavy angst (pls take a break when necessary!!), emotional constipation, no cheating happens here btw, self-loathing, miscommunication, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex, intense yearning + specified tags in each installment!
notes:thank you so much for all the love for 4-7-8 ♡ i rlly love reading all your feedback and thoughts!! send them in here :)
prompt : ( Jungkook x Reader ) Jungkook is suddenly transported to the 21st century, and you’re stuck with him until he can get back to where he belongs.
For a long time, your life was completely normal. You were just a girl. You had a happy childhood, you went through the pain and puberty of middle and high school. Now you were awaiting your second year of college, the heat of summer keeping you inside your apartment.
You were never a fan of the heat.
It was an ordinary day of this hermit-like nature on which your life changed. You were no longer normal.
* * *
You’d been on FaceTime with your best friend, Jisoo, for a couple hours. Laughing about high school memories and complaining about your freshman year of college. But you heard what sounded like a distressed man outside your apartment. You scrunched your nose up and looked over at your door. Jisoo proceeded to make the same expression, “What are you doing? I can see up your nose. Gross.”
“You’re doing the same thing, you know,” You looked back down at the screen, giving her a pointed look. She laughed. “Okay, whatever. I have to go help my dad in the shop anyway. Later.”
“See you,” You mumbled, letting the phone drop onto the couch as she hung up. Drifting over to the door, you pressed your ear against it to further listen to the distressed man.
“What is this,” You could hear him mumbling, “This.. thing. This architecture. Where’s the palace?”
Palace? Was this guy nuts?
Slowly, you opened your door, only to find a guy about your age in medieval looking clothing, staring you down with dark, chocolate brown doe eyes. His clothing was odd, like he’d just walked out of one of those weird fantasy festivals. He wore a simple long sleeved shirt and long rugged pants with stitched leather shoes.
“Who are you?” He spoke in a clear and demanding tone. You jumped lightly, clearing your throat. Your confidence wasn’t very high, after all, considering you were in sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“Um.. my name is Y/N. Are you okay?” Was your meek answer. This guy was scary, honestly. He looked you up and down and made a disgusted look. “What are you wearing? How disgraceful.”
Well, he’s rather rude as well.
You face heated up with an embarrassed blush. “They’re called home clothes, okay? What’s your name?”
The man huffed at you, staring you down for a few seconds before finally giving you an answer, “Jungkook.”
Then, he fell face first into the floor.
* * *
Jungkook was out for a couple hours. You’d dragged him inside your apartment and into your room, tossing him on the bed. After a bit of work, you’d gotten him all comfy and started taking care of him. He now lay there with a damp rag over his forehead while you sat at his bedside. You didn’t know this man, yet you were still concerned about him and his health. Though he might have seemed a tad mentally ill, you wondered what exactly his story was.
Staring at him sleeping, you noticed his rather beautiful features. He was slim but toned for sure, he had high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His nose had a certain slant to it that was just adorable, and his lips were perfectly uneven.
Too bad his hair was so long.
You let out a soft sigh, staring at him. His eyes blinked open and for a second, he seemed like he was going to rip your head off and run out the door. But he stopped himself as he saw you jump, as he saw how concerned you were and how you’d probably helped him.
He took a minute to speak, “Please, where am I?”
Your expression turned perplexed as your form slowly relaxed. He didn’t know where he was?
“You’re in Seoul, Korea. Are you feeling well?” You gently removed the rag and he sat up, nodding. The male looked around the room, scanning everything within his scrutiny before looking back at you. “I think I might have travelled forward in time.”
It took you a bit of time to let the words sink in. “Are you mentally ill? Did you escape a hospital?”
“No!” He was quick to react. Jungkook then sighed, his figure slumped in defeat and disappointment. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. I’m a war general.”
You hummed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table, ignoring the man’s questions about the device. You typed his name into Google and, shockingly, you had to believe him. The painting of Jeon Jungkook you found looked exactly like him. He was from 1396.. Somehow, he really had travelled forward in time.
Either that or he was an insanely impressive doppelganger.
“Okay,” You said slowly, “I believe you.”
The taller was eyeing your phone suspiciously still, but stopped and looked back at your eyes after you spoke. “Thank you,” He said sincerely, offering a small smile, which you returned. You set your phone down and stared at him intently, “So how did you get here?”
He held a hand to his head as if suppressing a headache, “I don’t know. The last thing I remember is training with Namjoon. It was storming. Lightning struck right outside the window, and then I was here.”
“I see,” You mumbled, thinking. The storm caused it, then, but how does that help in getting him back? You decided to focus on that later. You nodded to yourself and stood as he watched you, looking like a confused bunny.
“I’ll help you get back home. But first, we have to modernize you.”
His eyes went wide with dread, “M- Modernize me?”
Your lips twitched upward in an evil, sly grin, “Yup. Say goodbye to your luscious locks, Jungkook.”
His expression immediately changed to fearful and defensive as he backed away from you and held his hair in his hands, “No. I’ve been growing this out for my entire life! That’s 21 years of growth!”
Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?
Summary:
They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?
What is it that gives us purpose? What drives us as human beings to keep living? A young man finds himself faced with that very question when he discovers himself to be the last remaining human.
Will he walk alone?
Warnings: This one is gonna hurt folks
Word count: 1012
Author’s note:
This is based on one of my infamous dreams. My subconscious likes to hurt me apparently, so when I woke up I decided to frantically write this out so ya’ll could share the ouch. Enjoy~
What is it that gives us purpose? What drives us as human beings to keep living? A young man finds himself faced with that very question when he discovers himself to be the last remaining human.
Will he walk alone?
Warnings: This one is gonna hurt folks
Word count: 1012
Author’s note:
This is based on one of my infamous dreams. My subconscious likes to hurt me apparently, so when I woke up I decided to frantically write this out so ya’ll could share the ouch. Enjoy~
It had been months since he’d last seen another human face to face. The devastation that’d grabbed hold of him in the beginning, the panic and fear and anger, all had long since faded away from the forefront of his mind.
After being greeted time and again to the sight of car crashes, the empty shells of planes long since burned to a smoldering hunk of empty and twisted metal, and home after home left in almost pristine condition down to forks dropped to the floor from meals left uneaten he’d finally come to understand the truth. He was absolutely and truly all alo… He needed to set out to find her.
It had started one morning on his way to work. Not thinking that the rental house he shared with his brothers was so very oddly silent, he’d rushed through his morning routine. Thoughts a frantic mess, he’d raced his way through his shower and tugged on clothes wrinkled from having not been folded after he’d pulled them out of the dryer the night before.
She’d have fussed at him had she se….
It wasn’t until he’d actually made it to work that he realized something was wrong. The bypass had been devoid of vehicles, serendipitous to be sure, but when he pulled into the parking lot and saw the burning building that was his place of employment a certain type of dread had filled him.
He’d pulled out his phone, staring down at the empty screen of the video call and struggling with his conscience as to whether to hang it up and call the authorities. Dismissing the thought he’d tucked the phone away, ensuring that the call was still muted before hurrying to the restaurant across the parking lot and stepping inside with a call of hello.
Not a soul had answered him. Despite several vehicles idling in line at the drive-through, not a soul reached his desperate sight as he frantically searched the building for any signs of life. No one answered when he tried to call emergency services, the calls just rang and rang unendingly until finally he’d given up and dropped forlorn into the driver’s seat of his car.
He’d stared out the front windshield, that dread building and building into full blown panic as he’d pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen to the sight of her empty be…
So he wandered for a while, searching and shouting until his throat bled and the tears he’d once shed had all but run dry. Always aware of the phone in his pocket that he kept charged and the call that he hoped and prayed would never drop.
Finally his resolution had hardened and he’d worked up the courage to set out, stopping at barren convenience stores for food and water and gas to fill his tank he had driven. Always seeking and searching in case by some misguided fate some other poor soul was out there that might just share the same fate as him.
He’d seen animals abound, pets allowed to finally roam free and grow wild once more like their ancestors once had been. Zoo animals who’d had the smarts and wherewithal to escape their enclosures and run free in the streets in suburban environments that rapidly decayed into the jungle scapes so many of them had been taken from long long ago.
And finally, after so very long of driving and charging and hoping and staring, the call had died. He’d lost his mind for a while. Screaming at the phone that mocked him with its lack of service, repeatedly smashing the call button in vain hopes that maybe…just maybe… Eventually he’d continued on, seeking his destination with a single minded drive that only a man possessed could attain, not allowing the despair to resurface so long as he knew the roads to take and the neighborhoods to pass in order to find just what he was looking for.
And there he sat. The small blue house with that ugly stone facing she’d always mocked staring back at him. Yard left unkempt from almost a year of neglect. The truck she drove sat unused and covered in a thick layer of pollen.
He stared for a night and most of a day before finally steeling his resolve and unbuckling his seat belt to step out of the car. His footsteps echoed on the cracked and ragged walkway as he made his way up to the front door, testing the lock and frowning. He’d always tried to remind her to lock that door, anyone could have just walked in.
The front living room gave off a musty odor, as though no one had been there in so long the walls had even forgotten what it felt like to know a human presence.
He knew the layout very well. Smiling at the pictures hanging on the wall of a young girl grinning and laughing at the camera person.
He’d turned a corner in the hall, eyes widening and tears pouring at the sight that lay before him.
It still smelled of her, the empty bedroom with its pile of unfolded laundry, snack wrappers littering the floor just out of reach of the bed and a laptop that’d been left on and open to a google doc with a story half written, never to be finished.
His fingers traced the edges of the bedspread, eyes lingering on the slight divot in the mattress.
He gingerly picked up the phone, unlocking it to see the thousands of messages he’d sent her every day up until the point where the cellphone towers had stopped sending their signals.
Desperation clenched at his throat. It clung to his knees, buckling him and breaking him as he dropped into her place.
He curled into the scent of her, sobs forever to go unheard as the truth settled on him with a finality so all encompassing that it shook him to his very core.
Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?
Summary:
They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?
Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?
Summary:
They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?
Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?
Summary:
They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?
The kitchen erupted into a surge of chaos at the sound of Jin’s voice. I’d rerouted the audio to my cell phone, which Taehyung had rigged long ago to double as a receiver so we could communicate during missions and various outings.
It was a chorus of shouts and sobbing as the boys scrambled to be heard over each other by their elder.
“How did you survive?”
“What the fuck happened?”
“Where are you now?”
“Are you hurt?”
“I saw you get shot, what the hell?!”
Even Yoongi seemed shaken, which was hard considering.
That windshield wiper laugh sounded through the receiver and I crumpled to the floor, sobbing with relief as I clutched the phone to my chest.
“Aww, come on now boys, look what you did to her.” Even at a distance and fresh from the grave he still managed to find a way to scold his younger brothers.
Jungkook helped me to my feet and I placed the phone on the counter, angling it so that everyone could hear and be heard before burying myself into the crook of his arm.
“Hyung, seriously, how did you manage to survive that shot?” Jimin squatted down at the counter across from me, arms crossed on the metal surface so he could rest his chin on them and still be able to see the phone.
“Same way Hoseok did. We had our vests on.”
This sent another wave of relief and cheering through the group. Even Jeanette and Rose were sobbing off to the side when they heard Hobi’s cheerful hello on the other end of the line.
“Fuck sake man!” Namjoon sniffled as Taehyung wiped his nose on his shoulder. “You both had us half way to grieving over you.”
“Seriously though, what exactly happened?” Junkgook demanded, though he couldn’t hide the tears that clung to the back of his own throat.
And so Seokjin filled us in.
After he’d been shot and Jeanette and Yoongi had been taken away, he’d played dead for a bit. Long enough to watch as the helicopters took off without him.
He’d made his way to the front of the house, almost losing it when he spotted Hobi’s unmoving form on the ground. He’d quickly realized though that the blow back of all those shots had simply rendered the bodyguard unconscious. The bulletproof vest had done its job perfectly.
“We had him checked out, nothing broken, but the ceramic plates in his jacket and vest are fully toast.”
“What do you mean…we?” Namjoon interrupted. His curiosity caused his voice to crack slightly as he spoke, eliciting a snicker from the others.
“Well, you see…”
Jin was interrupted by a voice that had my blood running cold.
“They had a little help from a friend.”
“Eun Kwang!”
A chorus of voices rang out, drawing the attention of several nearby civilians. I smiled at them sheepishly, to which most shrugged and ignored us, though a few seemed to now have at least half an ear turned in our direction. It didn’t matter though, I had more important and pressing matters to attend to.
“You skeevy bastard what the hell?!” Jungkook was nearly purple with rage and I could tell he was on his way to saying something stupid.
I stepped in, touching his arm and gently taking the phone to redirect his attention.
“Easy there killer, not the place or time for all this.” I smiled softly to him, handing the phone over to Namjoon and placing a hand on Jungkook’s cheek.
“Let’s have Namjoon find out what happened. There’s too many people around to have you going full mafia boss rage mode.”
He snorted, though the sound was not one of amusement and we turned our attention to the ongoing conversation.
“We were on our way over to negotiate a peace treaty to be frankly honest.” Eun Kwang’s tone was mocking to say the least, I could almost hear the sneer in his voice.
“Hyun sik heard the chopper first so we hid until the shots died out and the bird took off again. Found your boys barely breathin’ when we managed to get there. Don’t worry though little dongsaeng, we made real sure to secure your property, get everything valuable to a nice an safe place.”
“Mother f…” Jungkook inhaled. I could feel the rising tension in his form, the muscles in his arms writhing beneath my fingertips as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“Boss?” Namjoon whispered, eyes scanning his younger brother’s face as his brows creased with concern.
“What do you want Eun Kwang…” Jungkook asked, words clipped as he struggled to keep his temper under control.
“Well, I know you and your crew are in a bit of a bind. Trapped on that American base with no way out and surrounded by rabid bodies? Not a good look man.”
“And?!”
“I’ll help you escape, sure. But on one condition.”
Jungkook growled, throwing his hands up in the air and turning away with a huff.
“Of course there’s a fucking catchin!” He slammed his fist on the counter, causing Jeanette to yelp from the corner. I sent her a half hearted and apologetic smile.
“What do you want Eun Kwang?” I muttered into the phone when I took it from Joon.
“I want Daegu.”
“What?!”
“If I send my crew out there, I’m risking their lives to get you out. I need to know that the risk is worth the reward. Daegu is my reward.”
“But Eun…”
“Yes yes, I know. How is that going to work if you all are still in Daegu when this is all over? Simple. I want you all gone. I don’t care where you go or what you do. But Daegu is mine.”
Namjoon stepped up, waving for me to hand him the phone again. I obliged, passing it over and turning to watch Jungkook as he began pacing again.
“Why not just leave us here then? Why not just let the Americans deal with us or kill us or whatever it is they have planned for us?”
“Because if anyone’s gonna kill Jungkook, it’s gonna be me. You damn well best believe I’m not letting any other mother fucker have that satisfaction.”
***
Our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a commotion at the kitchen door. I grabbed the phone quickly, lowering the audio volume as much as possible while shushing the men on the other end of the line.
“We’ve got company.” I muttered, hoping that whatever this could be, it wouldn’t spell disaster for our escape plans.
“Daddy!” The shout echoed across the kitchen as several soldiers walked in, startling us to no end as one of the nearby children rushed over and nearly tackled one of the soldiers to the ground.
The sight would have been heartwarming if not for the fact that as soon as the two hugged it out the young boy began whispering to his father while pointing back at us several times.
“Fuck…” Jungkook grumbled. Apparently he’d been watching the exchange as well.
“There’s nothing we can do about it now Boss.” Namjoon moved to block our sight of the two, pulling our attention back to him as he shoved his hands in his pocket.
“If we draw attention to it now they’ll know or at least suspect that something’s up. Just watch and wait for now, see where this takes us.”
It didn’t take long for the commotion to become organized.
The group was divided into two lines, children at the front and adults split into two groups that were led out into the darkness of the bowling alley.
After hurriedly ending the call and shoving the phone in my pocket I joined the groups. Half of us were led to the front of the building, Rose, Jeanette, and myself included, while the others were instructed to stay put.
“They’re taking us to the bathrooms.” The little girl that had taken a liking to Namjoon and Jeanette whispered up to me.
I smiled down at her gratefully, heat rising to my cheeks when she slipped her tiny hand in mine and squeezed it tightly.
“I wish they would take us more often, but Mommy said they do it so that the ones with guns can keep us safe from the monsters.” She glanced toward the front door, eyes wide as her gaze darted across the dusky twilight of the sky.
I squeezed her hand, bringing her attention back to me so I could shoot her a reassuring grin.
“It’s brave of them to want to protect us, don’t you think?” I asked as we made our way into the imposing darkness of the women’s bathroom. A few of the sinks had lanterns on them, but it really did little to dispel the gloom that prevailed in the entirety of the large space.
“Well…I guess it’s brave. But really they’re just pretending. Grown-ups do that a lot.” She shrugged, letting go of my hand and making her way to one of the toilet stalls.
I wondered at her words as I did the same, finishing my business as quickly as possible so I could spend a moment or two longer at the sink.
I glanced to the side after finishing with my face, smiling and letting out a small chuckle that echoed slightly when the little girl had reappeared beside me with Jeanette, Rose, and her mother in tow.
Reaching her hand out once more she quickly pulled me into the group, giggling the whole way back to the kitchen at the new friends she’d made for herself.
When we got back I broke away from the others, making my way over to Jungkook who’s eyes were on the dad and son duo we’d been watching earlier. He frowned when the adult glanced our way, his fist clenching at his side when the man began walking over.
“Kookie, you’re gonna end up with arthritis if this keeps up.”
He glanced down at me, face full of confusion as I wrapped my hand around his fist and brought it up to gently brush my lips over the knuckles. “Relax baby. I know this is tough but please, ease up on yourself.”
I wasn’t even sure if my words registered in his mind as the man in uniform stopped before us, hand on the holster at his hip as he sized us up.
“My son tells me you all have a plan?” His clipped Korean sounded foreign on his tongue, though the pronunciation was immaculate.
“Couldn’t possibly begin to know what you mean, Sir.” I replied, giving him my most charming smile possibly.
“Mmm, no I get it. With everything going on, what reason do you have to trust me?” He shrugged, leaning his hip against the counter and finally moving his hand away from his holster to cross his arms over his chest.
I tilted my head, smile still in place as I attempted to sooth the seething beast that was Jungkook by tracing my fingers over the bulging muscles in his forearms.
“We weren’t exactly given a choice to leave our home, safe as it was and out of the way of the chaos. Two of our family members were shot and killed, and by YOUR people at that.” I shook my head, eyes brimming with tears to emphasize the point.
The soldier sighed, nodding and frowning as he turned to look out at the group of civilians loitering around the spacious kitchen. “Sad fact is, people tend to do stupid shit when they think they’re saving people. Get high and mighty in their authority and think they’ve become god when they’re the ones holding the guns.”
I hummed in thought, curling my fingers over Jungkook’s knuckles and placing just enough pressure to encourage him to loosen his fingers so that I could slip my hand into his.
“Seems that’s a universal fit. People with authority want to keep their authority, no matter who or what gets in their way.”
The soldier pursed his lips, eyes finding the young boy who’d called him Daddy earlier. He was now playing with the young girl and Namjoon, smiles bright as he told them one of his many stories while balancing each of them on either of his knees. The man was good with kids, there was no doubt about that.
“I’ve seen the type of people my so called superiors are. The way they run things around here? I’d rather have my kid out there on the streets than have them in this dingy ass kitchen until whatever’s left of the world’s governments decides to figure their shits out.” He turned back to use, face determined for a moment before softening into a look of sad resignation.
“Look, whatever it is you and your people are planning, me and mine are in. Just say the word and we got your back, there’s more of us than them. In the end you can’t lose.”
The hunter that waits upon the porch of the silent cottage must be no older than twenty, though his face is still that of a young boy, rather than a man. Small yet sturdy in stature, his cheeks are plump, lips full and resting into a natural pout with eyes of simmering amber that are wide almonds, the lids heavy though lacking presence of any lethargy. As he mindlessly lays pressure onto the balls of his feet, in turn, oscillating his body in the rocking chair, the gloss of his chestnut hair shimmers within the grey, overcast light of the early morning, the fringe flopping into his line of gaze as he lurches forward, yet drifting away like fine silk once he pushes back. A crossbow is loose upon his lap, fingertips gingerly stroking the lacquered foregrip and stock as though the limbs are his own. He is one with the weapon.
In truth, you should slaughter him, drink him absolutely dry and pick your teeth with the splinters of his bones. It would be an easy kill, swift and quiet, not a soul would notice, nor hear his screams in such a secluded slice of the woods. Not even Jeongguk, who must be at least four towns away by now. But although the insatiable hunger that claws iron blades at your insides, shredding you to ribbon from within, your canines refuse to sharpen, nails remaining to be bitten little ovals instead of extending into claws that can carve through metal as if it were butter, because, for a man of his kind, he is rather beautiful.
Hunters are usually rugged, unkempt beasts with scars of pearl lining their skin and murderous desire swallowing their eyes. Maybe it is the fresh youth that swells so preciously in his features or the natural casualness that caresses his form into one without intent to harm, but there is certainly something about him that encourages you to let his heart continue on beating – almost as though he deserves it.
Mindlessly, the branch that you observe him from cracks beneath your weight, and in such a serene atmosphere, it sounds like gunfire.
In his seat, he suddenly stiffens, chin cocking upward and his drooping eyes only widening just slightly, enough to survey the bland surroundings of the mostly decayed woods. The soft flesh of his lips part, the sound of the separation followed by a terse gust of air being swallowed into his lungs.
“I can sense you, monster. Show yourself!”
Without much deliberation, you drop from the branch, landing effortlessly on your booted feet in a tall, defenceless stance rather than a crouch. You do not want to be intimidating, you feel no necessity to fight, no urge to run, all the more so when he stands from the rocking chair, crossbow loaded and poised, aimed straight at your heart.
Even with instinct straightening his spine, broadening his shoulders with an almost unsure confidence as he levels the weapon to his eye, the other squinting shut to allow clarity for focus, you find him absolutely harmless.
“Any last words?”
His voice is lovely, you fondly notice. The kind of vocals that are made for singing, softer than the usual tone of a grown man, sweet nonetheless. You wish you were hearing this for the remainder of eternity rather than the blunt, hard edge of dead notes that crawl like a disease out of Jeongguk’s throat.
You shrug. “Not really, but I’m curious, why are you all alone?”
At that, he genuinely appears caught by surprise, as if he never knew such a monster would be capable of quaint conversation. His stance wavers, an opportunity that any other vampire would take to sink their fangs into human flesh, but the deep intrigue that grazes your every nerve is enough to suffice the beast that writhes in your stomach.
He swallows, his throat bobbing so violently that it appears to be a being of its own existence, yet no temptation festers in your heart, no crimson fingers claw in a vicious haze at the edges of your vision. Not yet, at least.
“I’m not,” his brow pinches at the centre, and it transforms his face entirely, hardening the angles. “Why would you say that?”
Deeply, you inhale through your nostrils, closing your eyes for no more than three seconds, the perfect gap for him to take the advantage and fire an arrow. But, if anything, the sole sound that you hear is his hands loosening, only slightly, on the weapon. When your lashes drift back apart, you try a smile, his joints appearing to seize up with shock at the sight.
“There is a scent about you,” you slowly begin, your gaze drifting down to the dirt in an attempt to appear less stoic, more of a human than a monster, “that is thick, like a dense fog, and acquires the similar heady dampness of one. I’ve noticed it on many beings, ones who have lost all that they have, and some who still have so much – yet within them, there is nothing.
“No, you are not alone in a physical sense. I can tell, I can hear them in the town right now. There is three, isn’t there? Your brothers, perhaps, who forced you into this way of living. But here–” Your palm places itself over your chest, greeted by a hollow echo of emptiness– “Isolation lives fiercely, it swallows up your heart. You may be surrounded by others, though within, you could not be more alone.”
As your sentence trails dimly into the air between you, the hunter is completely stunned silent. The crossbow that he held so equanimously now resides unguarded at his hip, the plush of his lips parted in an awed gape and truly, you remain to feel no desire to tear him to shreds and stain the earth with his blood. The fragility of his heart races a marathon against his ribs, though it is not one of fear, rather it is unadulterated realisation, acceptance.
Akin before, he gulps before he speaks, yet the movement is much gentler. “Are you truly one of them? If so, why are you telling me this, why aren’t you just killing me off?”
At that, you tilt your head to gaze into the woods, the spindly tree trunks, lacking much leafage, stick nakedly out of the ground, exposed and bare. From this distance, you cannot catch any notion of Jeongguk and his vile existence, a calming sentiment that swells comfortably within you.
“Because, you and I, young hunter, we are terribly the same,” you breathe, gradually returning your stare to his warm eyes of crackling flame. “I never wished for this life, and now I am roped up with two monsters – the one that lives inside of me and feels no necessity to kill you, and the other that I am constantly running from. Now, is it suitable that I ask you of your name?”
The hunter, for what seems to be the first time in years in the way that it falters before it fully develops like colour film, smiles with sheer divinity. It is a sight that would knock the breath out of any mundane, and even for you, it elicits an unusual warmth to hum gently across your bones, a sensation that makes you feel beyond too human to compare. The view of the crescent moon that births upon his lips fully encourages the monster to evade you, and you have never felt so pure, so clean of any blood that you once consumed, any death that you once lavishly bathed in.
“Park Jimin,” he, Park Jimin, speaks, and it is a name that you know, in centuries, you will never forget. It is engraved by his roughened, yet careful fingertips into your ribs, right above where a vessel once thrummed. “Would it be so rude to ask you what your own is?”
Visiting Jimin becomes a fortnightly habit, out of your own selfishness to feel human, or an uncanny desire to fulfil his silent desperation to not be alone, you cannot quite decipher. Though, for the both of you, it is a slice of time that is cherished, never once hurried or demanded. The visitations occur in the early mornings, always, when his brothers are out of the cottage, which slumbers like a wooden giant amongst the trees, the only sound escaping it being the creak of the rocking chair swaying underneath Jimin’s weight as he patiently anticipates your arrival. While you are there, whether it is for ten minutes or two hours, you exchange stories about your individual lifetimes – his, only stretching back a few years, whereas your own thread through numerous decades.
Jeongguk does not question, nor argue your regular disappearances. Because although they are happening in greater frequency, it is nothing out of the ordinary for you to be escaping his presence as often as you can. If anything, he stops prying about where you are leaving him to. Maybe, as long as you are not wreaking a bloodbath havoc that could wind the both of you up as dead, he does not care.
Maybe, that should have been the first sign that these encounters, this friendship, was doomed from the beginning.
Although it is nearing six in the morning, light is already gathering among the shadows of the prior night, consuming them into day. The air is crisp against your bare arms as you run, weaving between the trees at a speed unimaginable, knowing you could navigate this route with your eyes closed, it is that familiar. You come to a halt at the porch steps, not at all out of breath, just as Jimin opens the flywire screen and strolls out of the cottage with that same smile, the one that makes you feel as though you are coming home.
Something heavy chokes in your throat as you approach, because you know that today will most likely be goodbye – if not for good, it will be a very long time indeed. Jeongguk had spoken word two weeks ago of traversing to the mountains on the other side of the country, at least five days away on your own feet – all this time in between, you had been preparing yourself to sever the ties with the only friend that you have ever known.
“You’re up early,” Jimin jests, eyes curving deeper at his own hilarity and you cannot help but grin. Vampires sleeping, what an absolute joke!
“Couldn’t sleep,” you respond with the raise of an eyebrow, lacing your fingers at the base of your spine as you glide up onto the wooden planks, sitting down when Jimin props up a chair beside his own. “How have you been?”
“Good enough, a fortnight without seeing you felt a little extensive, but I coped,” Jimin sighs as he unwinds into the rocking chair, giving it a few experimental pushes before relaxing into a rhythm. He tilts his chin to the side, staring bluntly at you. “Murder many people in your time away?”
If your blood were not black and your cheeks had the capability to flush, they certainly would be doing so now. “You can’t just say something like that! How awfully morbid.”
“Says the one who drinks the blood of my kind.”
“Be careful, you might be next.” But the threat is completely empty, and he knows that entirely by the way a sharp bark of laughter escapes him, as if to say: You wish, monster.
Silence embraces the both of you, welcomed comfortably. Jimin breathes with the stead of a calm tide, waves rushing without urgency onto a shore, drawing back with tranquil leisure. His heart beats like a bird slicing its wings through the wind, only occasionally having to flutter for the current keeps it afloat. As a being, he is entirely serene, without any intent to hurt although the lifestyle that his family thrust upon him – he might be trained, but he is no born killer.
You break it to him gently, as if the wrong placement of a word will force his porcelain skin to splinter and he will shatter into a thousand pieces at your feet.
“Jimin, I think this might be the last time I get to see you.” The words shudder out of your lungs, quaking gently with the despise of who is forcing them out of you. “We’re headed for the mountains, it’s becoming too dangerous for us to stay here. This is the longest we have ever resided in a particular area, and it’s proving to become difficult.
“But I want you to know that this, visiting you, has made me feel more human than I did when I was truly alive – long before I was a monster. If I could, I would stay by your side, but I can’t let him find you, I can’t–”
“Please, don’t cry,” Jimin whispers, and it is only then that you realise you are. The tears stream hotly down your cheeks, and you cannot tell if you are terrified of abandoning his side or leaving behind how wholly human you are when he smiles at you.
Jimin, with the utmost care and precision, lays his hand atop your own, the first physical contact that the pair of you have ever made, and suddenly, at the warmth that tucks itself between your knuckles from his palm, crimson forcefully lurches into your vision as if the monster within you was waiting for the precise moment to remind you of what you truly are.
He barely blinks in the time that you rip your hand away, confusion blooming on his features as there is a shift in the wind, a breeze that was nonexistent when you arrived, which can only mean one thing and you only realise once it is too late.
The pungency of Jeongguk overwhelms your senses, and all that was human about you is torn out from underneath your feet like a rug.
There is a dull thud, Jimin’s head is finely severed and his body crumples backwards before you can even scream. His limbs, for a sparse second, twitch and writhe, the muscles seizing up as the crimson seeps into the grain of the porch, staining it in his death all the while Jeongguk gently sways in the rocking chair, sucking his fingers clean of innocent blood.
A rage you have never known lights up every nerve in your body, forcing you to leap on the monster and tear at his skin, all the while he sits and observes, unbothered. With an unusual patience, Jeongguk allows you to screech incoherent profanities and have at him until your claws start to press between his ribs, searching for something that is no longer there, and only then does he stand to action, grabbing you by the throat and dragging you off the porch, kicking and screaming, continuing to do so even when he slams you against the thick girth of a trunk with enough force to make the bark crack.
“How– How could you?!” You uselessly shriek, nails dragging at his knuckles that wrap all the firmer around your throat. “He was harmless, Jeongguk! How couldyou?!”
“It’s irrevocable, the ties between us monsters and the hunters,” Jeongguk placidly speaks, squeezing your neck tighter before releasing it, staring down at you with barely controlled rage as you crumple to the ground, “it can never be changed, we can never be allies. They will always hunt us, and we will forever hunt them. Start accepting that you can never be like that scum – you can never be human again.”
Like taking off a mask, something about his demeanour shifts when he sighs and crouches between your knees, a palm gingerly coming up to caress the side of your face, wiping at the furious tears, and you cannot find it in yourself to flinch away. Not even when his thumb, stained with the blood of your friend, presses against your lips. The way he looks at you is as if he is dealing with a distressed child.
“Now, aren’t you hungry, darling?” Jeongguk murmurs, using his free hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. The tip of your tongue tastes honey sweet, your stomach burns in a wildfire as the voluminous stench of death protrudes the atmosphere. You try to deny it, be rid of her, but the contact from before still lingers like an infestation upon your hand, swells greater as Jimin spills all of his human purity out of the opening cut clean across his neck. “He’s still fresh, he won’t go off for an hour or two, you know that. We’ve got a big trip ahead of us.”
It is akin a parasite taking over, where your entire body goes numb and any shred of conscience is smothered to the shadows. The fangs slide out of your gums, your chest cracks open, relenting to the irremediable truth of what Jeongguk had spoke. You never cared about the hunter, you only took pleasure in the way that he made you feel.
The monster grins, because deep down, she has always wondered what the heart of a friend must taste like.
The water blasts scalding hot and fails to boil your marble skin. Often, you wish that it would sear the flesh, sizzle its way through the muscle, right to the bone where it melts the joints and marrow, reduces you to nothing but a carcass although such a term is quite accurate to describe you as you are now. A shell without a beating heart, inattentive to the one that trails at your heels like a shadow, just as dark and malicious.
Monsters and lovers are precisely alike, you see.
“Jeongguk,” is all that you breathe, and even the exhalation of his name is enough to lure the creature, the bathroom suddenly feeling too cramped. Slowly, you turn, and he is there, no misty glass separating heartless bodies, the shower door already having creaked open. The stench of copper is fresh.
“What’s wrong?” His dark eyes never stray from your own, do not seek solace in the swell of your breasts, nor the droplets that slip down the curve of your hip. Blood is gathered in the corners of his thinned lips, smeared across his jaw, painting the tips of his fingers as though he had them dipped between exposed intestines just moments ago. Such a concept would not be entirely surprising, he is becoming rather creative with his methods as of late.
“Kill me,” you try, but it never works, the answer already lifting in the arch of his left brow. “Don’t look at me like that. What’s stopping you?”
“Why would I make you, just to kill you?” Jeongguk remains indifferent, tongue burying into the scarlet honey residue that sticks to the grooves of his lips. “What a waste of all these years. I thought you were over such a childish perspective.”
Nails cut into a palm, thick ink dripping down the drain with the water and something in his expression falters. He hates to see you harm the flesh of your being so carelessly, though it is the simply mouthwatering perfume of your own blackened blood that has his pupils blown, attention scattered. A lightweight drunk, he collapses into the trap with full awareness that it is there.
“I thought you liked to give me what I wanted?”
At that, he takes a single stride forward and clasps at your bleeding hand, not minding the shower as it soaks the front of his charcoal shirt, pasting his raven hair against his forehead. His mouth is a ghost against your palm, unsure whether he is just being gentle or you are too familiar with him touching you like this, experienced enough in the art of ignorance to pretend that his hands and lips are air. Saliva gathers in your half moon wounds, the cells threading back together but a dull prick fourfold, Jeongguk observing the way in which the water droplets unfurl down your nose, cheeks, chin, all the while. His tongue drags all the way to the tip of your forefinger, coated in remnants of black before he drops your hand to hang loosely by your side. The wounds are healed but your situation never is.
“I don’t know what you want,” Jeongguk sighs, wipes water out of his eyes simply for movement, rather than genuine irritation. “You are more of a labyrinth than a monster. A puzzle. Unsolvable. Pain in my ass.”
“Pain in your ass, huh?” You repeat his words, and this time, you are the one clutching for his hand, pressing the fingertips right against the skin where on anybody else, a beat would drum. “Go on then, bastard. You know you can free yourself of such a burden by doing this, just push hard enough and you can rip my heart out. My ashes will wash down the drain.”
Though instead of commanding to the fruitless demand, his fingertips drift northward, trace a collarbone, over the pearl white scarring that his fangs drove through once warm skin, up and up until they can outline the shape of your lips and his gazes gathers something mildly akin to warmth, if it were not so selfish. Jeongguk tilts your chin and you let him, he dips his mouth and you let him, his tongue parts the seam of your lips and you let him, you let him, you let him, because you of all beings know that you can stop him – but he knows that you never will. He likes to think that deep down, the abomination that he created loves him, though maybe the miserable thing is just too tired.
A voice sighs into your mouth. “Don’t be so morbid.”
He tastes like a human freshly dead, the ashy smoke of your essence sucked between the fissures of his teeth for safe keeping because you always taste best to him. No palms roam your skin, no shirt falls to a sopping heap at your feet, no contact or intimacy outside of the connection of your lips barely moving against on another because no, that is not what this is for. Jeongguk kisses you as though he is searching for a truth or a hidden key that lays beneath your tongue, an answer that solves the one thousand questions that dwell within his mind because he is right in saying that you are a labyrinth, and he is damn well far from receiving the solution that leads to your centre.
Though, for the briefest of moments, you indulge him.
You know that he adores your fangs, honing a sick infatuation with the monster that resides in your stomach and reaps whole villages into a sea of scarlet, and so you let them slip out to graze at his bottom lip, to puncture and bring forth the acrid flavour of his soul. The reaction to this is absolutely startling, for he goes completely still, only momentarily, until the fingertips that had traced your lips draw away to delicately hold the side of your face, an action to possess – but you pretend that it is to caress and care. The tip of his tongue slips against your own, sliding across your teeth, purposefully impaling itself upon the tips of your canines so that more of his taste can coat the back of your throat. When you drop your walls for the slightest of moments, his blood tastes like oak and firewood, almost near pleasant.
It is not so bad. He is not all that bad. The thought tastes like acid bubbling on the tip of your tongue but you are beyond used to poisonous ideas and touches that feel like the edges of machetes.
When Jeongguk pulls away, rubies and ink freshly dripping down his chin, he leans toward you once more to lick up the mess that is already cleaning in the water. But he does it anyway, lidded gaze observing the dilated pupils that watch him placidly all the while. It is then, no longer than a brief second in time where the both of you observe up close, that the shower is hot against dead flesh, there is a flutter that brushes against your ribs from within. You are too inattentive to notice.
Nails against your skin. Nails within your stomach. Nails over there on the asphalt painted with a red polish that resembles the shade that trickles like honey from the glass splinters and cuts on the remainder of the hand, the body. Jeongguk had not expected this, you had not expected this, how could you when time and fate had such a coexistence, a romance that twists and turns, makes love before your eyes when you least expect?
Three are already dead, two barely breathing in the remnants of the mangled vehicle. The scene is washed in a sea of red and blue, flashing with insistence, persistence, from police and ambulances and firefighters, all working as one to pry the two still breathing figures, with their wide eyes and shattered bones, from the metal cage that is warped around them.
And Jeongguk is working as one, always, from the very moment he had decided to enact his most selfish of deeds, to keep you at bay.
The pair of you are glued to the very spot where you initially saw the first car skid past on its side. The crowds were dense, immediately rushing to witness the sight while you and Jeongguk were inevitably plunged into a wall of flesh and bone, of blood, blood, blood. God you could smell it everywhere, red rolling over your tongue, causing the ever-present hunger in your stomach to pierce, slice, cut at your very insides in a desperate urge to feast. One body had been separated from the metal cage and you can hear the heart of the other feebly beating, urgently pumping the very sustenance of life through veins that you crave to sink your teeth into.
Jeongguk has his mouth right by your ear. It is not a necessity, he can breathe beneath the sound level from over a mile away and you would hear every word he speaks, enunciated perfectly. But now, it feels as though he is attempting to make this situation as human as possible.
“Listen to me,” He pronounces slowly, calm, underlying with a threat. “We need to get out of here. Any kind of fuck up and we are done, there are too many people to see us, and all of those policemen are trained hunters. They would drop the ball on those two humans just to have a chance at killing us, you hear?”
It sounds as though he is speaking beneath water – blood. When you absently nod, the crimson shimmers beneath the street lamp, winking at you. Come have a taste.
“Stop flaring your nostrils, you look like a fucking animal,” Jeongguk growls, the nails in your wrist breaking the skin, but they are butterfly wings compared to the razor blades that carve at your dried up insides. “Now, we need to push past the people behind us at a human pace– Y/N, fucking looking at me!”
The navy night sky becomes a glimmering shade of red. The orange lights pooling over the bystanders now washing their skin with crimson. When you gaze down at your hands, they too are a beautiful shade of the colour you can taste on the tip of your tongue, rolling around in the best possible form of sin, delicious velvet. You salivate, canines lengthening with fervency, the dead man sprawled a few metres from the rolled car staring at you with his lifeless eyes, beckoning you towards his intestines that are spilled in lovely pink streamers across the bitumen. He is getting colder with every passing second, how silly would you be to waste him? A foot moves forward, an arm yanks back, a mouth crashes to your own and then all you can taste is pepper, tar, biting at your tongue and making you reel back in disgust, sucking the red right out of your vision in an instant.
Jeongguk chuckles bitterly after you abruptly yank away, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before pulling you firmly back into his side. An arm of steel wraps around your shoulders, locks your bones against his own in such a way that you wish to shove him off again, but then he is twisting you both around and marching you out of the crowd. You can still smell the blood as though it is wedged into the crevices of your nose, craning your head back over your shoulder to peek at the delicious meal prepared so delightfully for you, quite literally having rolled right to your feet less than fifteen minutes ago. But Jeongguk is quick to grab your chin and forcefully bury your face into his chest, a frail defense of cotton invading your senses, distorting the aroma of bloody maple that makes your toes curl and your talons itch, the insatiable hunger screaming at you because – Who cares? Who cares! Just kill them all!
The mouth of an alleyway opens up on the left, swallowing you both in shadows. Jeongguk should have let you go by now, except he does not, and his mouth is back on your own again and you are screaming, writhing against him in displeasure. He tastes awful, petrol and fumes, utterly overwhelming in the worst of ways as your tongue is coated in the foul, vampiric saliva of him. But he holds onto you, persists through your thrashing until your canines tear at his mouth, bleeding more tar onto your dirtied palate.
“What the fuck!” You roar, shoving him back with enough force for his shoulder blades to crumble the bricks of the wall where he lands. He cracks his neck before stepping forward again, wiping away the black that pours from his chin on the back of his hand, palms of steel then wrapping around your jaw and taking your lower lip between his teeth until you knee him in the stomach. “The fuck do you think you are doing?!”
Jeongguk grunts but keeps his hold on your face, staring fiercely into your eyes. “What colour is the sky?”
“Fuck off–”
“Tell me!”
You bite your lip, lowly whining at the way his fingertips dig in your flesh yet again, threatening to break through to the bone. “Black.”
“And your hands?”
“… Clean.”
Jeongguk releases you then and you scramble back, staring defensively at him before spitting his taste onto the ground. By the time you have scraped your nails over your tongue to be rid of the disgusting flavour, shaking saliva from your fingertips, the monster who made you is turning on his heel and stalking off.
“Let’s go. You need to feed before you decide to rip apart an entire crowd in a blink again, fucking amateur.”
You scowl out of bitter despise at his departing shadow before the realisation settles into your very being of what he had just managed to do. No matter if it were against your own will or the fact that it occurred for only the briefest of moments, he had still superintended the halt, the cessation.
Jeongguk, for a split second in time, had made you forget about the hunger.
;Synopsis: An Alpha wolf is supposed to be strong, powerful and bold. A commandeering presence that can rule a pack efficiently. An Omega is supposed to be submissive, quiet and meek. A calming influence and a lucky charm for a pack. But you’re not like a normal Alpha wolf. Just like Jungkook is not a normal Omega wolf.
;A/N: I’m very unsure over this story. We’ve been having troubles but I finally got it finished and out! It’s half proof read…I hope you enjoy. If you do, please reblog and leave me comments, feedback or reviews! Or send in an ask, I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions :)
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“Now, what you need to remember is that the Ancient Greek’s weren’t one nation like how we think of them today. They were a collection of city states which were called polis back then. In their times, this was considered a nation on it’s own like the Vatican City or Singapore is today. You might realise that polis is actually still used today in words such as metropolis, which basically means ‘mother city’ as it comes from the Greek word for mother, necropolis which translates to city of the dead basically and so forth.
“The notion of ‘nation’ as we understand it is actually a relatively new concept that has only emerged in the last few centuries so trying to discuss things like a ‘nation’ or a ‘nationality’ is hard. Particularly when we’re talking about ancient civilisations.” You carry on talking, hands gesturing to the interactive whiteboard behind you that currently shows a map of Ancient Greece.
Your students are watching intently, some nodding slightly while a few of them jot down notes in their exercise books or read from their textbook. History was one of those topics that many people found boring but it had always inspired a fire inside you. The desire to learn from the past and incorporate it into the future was strong. Over the course of your own education, you’d also felt it was important to teach and mould the minds of the young with the lessons of the past.
It was why you’d gone into the teaching career, despite the concerns of your parents and everyone around you. Alpha’s like you simply didn’t go into teaching, the aura of power and dominance around them normally too strong for youngsters to cope with.
But you’ve always been a little different to the other Alpha’s you’d known throughout your life. Your wolf was always present and willing to protect when necessary but mostly she was content to lay back and watch the world. While most Alpha wolves were tall and extremely well muscled, a genetic quirk that gave them a visual representation of strength along with the metaphysical one that all wolves could understand, you were of average height and just looked in shape.
Your scent was sweet and pleasant to be around, according to your friends growing up you smelled like the tastiest candy with the slightest hint of rose. That on it’s own was unusual because Alpha’s were supposed to smell like…well an Alpha, power with that hint of earth that reminded everyone of the forest. Instead, you just smelled like a candy shop.
While great for the Delta’s, the general population that made up most packs, or Omega’s, the rarest and most treasured of all wolves, it wasn’t really great for an Alpha. You were the equivalent of a teddy bear instead of a grizzly, which didn’t really mix well with people’s expectations.
On the plus side though, it meant that you were excellent at getting through to people because they listened to you first and only if you needed to would you show the aggressive and dominant side of yourself. You may not look or smell like an Alpha, but you were still an Alpha and you liked to make sure some people remembered that.
Pairings:Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. the rest of BTS)
Genre:Science Fantasy, Angst, Apocalypse Au
Words:7K
Description:…and so they just meet each other in these stories written inside these worlds built in their minds. Of course some will be sad, and others happy, but that’s just the way the universe is…chaotic, imperfect, but magnificently beautiful.
You’ll always remember his eyes, a pair of dark obsidian orbs, cloudy and unreadable to many but to you they were always crystal clear like the polycrystalline structure of black diamonds.
“Hurry, we need to go!” He beckons urgently as you remained huddled in the corner of your bedroom closet, arms wrapped around your legs and chin resting on the caps of your knees.
“Where’s mommy and daddy?” You peer up at your older brother, eyes wide and stricken with fear.
It was already dark outside. The bright glow of blue and red lights flicker through the glass windows, ricocheting off the walls of the room your parents once read you bedtime stories in. You can hear the voices of police officers and military personnel through the loud speakers, advising everyone to evacuate the city.
“They’re waiting for us, come on.” Yoongi responds more softly, flashing you a tender smile, one that you have witnessed more than anyone else, giving you more than enough strength to latch on to his extended hand.
You were just nine years old when news of the first outbreak was broadcasted over the television. At the time, it had not occurred to you how strange it all was, or perhaps it did, but it was all too confusing to even begin questioning any of it. You knew nothing about viruses or the spread of diseases in general, but after moving to the designated “safe haven” for your district and continuing your education through your teens, some things have naturally come to light.
Like back in high school chemistry, when your teacher demonstrated the effects of acid on protein to show students how you could go blind if it got in your eye. It was simply to remind everyone to wear goggles, but you’ll never forget the way the drop of HCl seared the egg white, making the fluid bubble up and solidify instantly. You imagine the virus doing the same to human flesh, only with a more complicated mechanism that had less to do with altering the structure of existing proteins and more to do with actually changing gene expression.
It only takes one person. One mutation. One strand of viral DNA to contaminate it all.
It almost sounded too easy, and though the official announcement stated the virus originated in the jungle off the coast, countless people had suspected it was actually developed by the government, a biological weapon gone awry. It wasn’t until over a decade later that it became quite clear, though still unofficial since the elite would never admit to such a horrendous act publicly, that everything was more or less planned as a means to control the population.
So no, the virus did not entail the end of the world. The world government had actually done a pretty job controlling it. How could they not since they planned it all anyways? But of course, if the world wants to end, it’ll find a way to end.
That, you had also learned through a news broadcast.
“Karma” Hoseok exhales, twisting the key and turning off the engine.
“Hoseok, it’s not Karma if the top 1% still survive.” Yoongi mumbles, stepping out of the passenger door and stretching out his back.
“The biggest fuck you would be if the comet just disintegrates right before it strikes.” Hoseok scoffs. “If only…”
You ponder the possibility of this all being a false positive. “Maybe it’ll miss Earth, and everyone will have evacuated the planet for no reason at all.” It’s a joke, but not the funny kind. You know it’s impossible, but you didn’t really say it for the purpose of anyone agreeing with you or even refuting the statement, considering the nonexistent possibility.
“Maybe…” Hoseok exhales, not entirely paying attention to what he was even responding to but rather just blankly gazing at the open field with its tall grasses swaying in the wind.
Yoongi remains silent. He has been the whole trip for the most part, and in a way, his nonchalance was peaceful and reassuring as it had always been for you growing up.
But this is it. This is where you part ways.
It’s a strange feeling, really. You’ve always imagined this moment to be more emotionally overwhelming, saying goodbye to your brother forever and all. He was the only person you’d ever really trusted, and the only other person who has felt like the closest thing to home, a place that never really existed, and even if it did, it won’t for long. Maybe habituation, or months of convinced acceptance has left you numb, or maybe it’s the effect of building something so much up in your head that the actual experience doesn’t live up to what you’ve expected all this time.
“Are you sure?” Yoongi’s voice is low and subdued. He doesn’t make eye contact as he awaits your response, and perhaps it’s because he’s never questioned your personal decisions or the fact that he’s directly expressing his concern for you that you find yourself hesitating for the first time in months.
Did he invite you on this trip hoping you would change your mind in the end?
The thought makes your heart clench, and you have to tell yourself you’re overanalyzing. Yoongi wasn’t the kind to hint at what he wanted. He always directly expressed his thoughts no matter how offensive or uncalled for they are. You’ve always admired him for that sort of bravery, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to change now. Besides, you had made up your mind half a year ago, ever since you saw the timer flash across the T.V. screen.
Six months was how long they gave the general population to decide. Either you were rich enough to leave earth or you had to come to terms with the end. They had known about it years in advance, and though it’s unclear whether or not the planned viral outbreak was related to the detection of the comet’s trajectory, what’s undeniable is that they had kept everyone in the dark to avoid chaos.
You had no interest in space, nor did you want to be a part of a system so cruel. Yoongi didn’t either, not initially, but you weren’t going to blame him for meeting a boy who was the literal manifestation of the sun, someone who could make his heart beat in ways it never did.
“Your spot will always be open” Hoseok chimes in with his bright sunshine of a smile, and you can almost feel a fraction of what Yoongi feels when he sees it too.
“There’s more I want to see before it’s too late.” It’s not like you were alone. There were millions of other people staying on the planet- those who couldn’t afford a ticket on the escape ship.
Yoongi nods lightly, turning to walk up the steps to join Hoseok, who was already at the top still looking at you standing below, perhaps also hoping you would change your mind. Even now, you can see the softness in the latter’s eyes, the tangibility of the warmth that he radiates, and you have no trouble understanding why your bother fell for him.
And that’s the last image you see of the two. Hoseok’s melancholic gaze and the slight upturn of Yoongi’s lip as the doors close.
…
There’s a certain kind of calmness that accompanies solitude, even when the entire world is ready to burst under suppressed chaos. There’s also a strange detachment that comes with wanting to do everything while at the same time not wanting to do anything at all because none of it mattered anymore.
Stepping onto the train, you immediately get a whiff of the stench of sweat and body odor, the kind that tells you you’re not the only one who thought spending the next few days just gazing at the world was a good way to ride through the end. Most of the seats were taken, homeless people with all their bags large and small, scattered across the floor. You almost trip on someone’s sleeping bag as you navigate down the aisle, looking for a less crowded cart, which you are fortunate enough to find just as the train begins to move.
Settling down in the seat closest to the window, you momentarily let your eyes dwell on someone sitting a couple seats away. His attention was focused on the scenery outside, but he somehow sensed the weight of your scrutiny as he turns just as you were about to lean to get a better view.
You barely avert your gaze before he catches you staring, though you’re pretty sure he noticed because the next thing you know, he’s made his way over and is now seated across from you. Despite the sudden proximity and the bout of nerves it has initiated, you choose to keep your attention pointed at the passing scenery now zipping by in parallel with the train’s increasing speed.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” His voice is light with a deep, husky undertone that glides through the air.
You look up to find that he isn’t even looking out the window. You swallow, finding it bizarre that he’s staring at you so intently. “Indeed.”
“Traveling?”
You nod.
“Going anywhere in particular?” He tilts his head curiously; a motion almost child-like in nature and it makes you relax for the first time since you started this solo venture.
“Nope.”
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. “So your plan was to just sit on this train and look out the window?”
“Pretty much, yeah” You shrug, sensing your anxieties dissipate as he does not seem to pose a threat of any kind.
He chuckles softly. “But don’t you want to go out there and really feel the earth. Really experience being alive on this planet one last time?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“It’s the end of the world. What do you have to lose?”
He was right, and your excuses don’t even sound convincing to yourself anymore.
“So what exactly are you proposing?”
“This train loops around the entire continent. I say we get off at each stop and do one thing we’ve always wanted to do.”
“We?” You’re thrown off by how easily he placed the word in his sentence. How he didn’t even hesitate to include you in his spur of the moment proposal.
He nods.
“Together?” You ask again, still skeptical.
He laughs softly; looking down and back up again with a playful smirk.
“What if we want to do different things?” You counter, still unsure why you are playing along with this stranger who hasn’t even introduced himself.
“Ok. We’ll get off at each stop and do one thing you’vealways wanted to do.”
“You’re sure putting a lot of bets on someone you don’t even know.” You comment, waiting to see how he’s going to react.
There’s a peculiar look in his eyes, one that speaks of anticipation precipitously lost to the wind. He drops his gaze momentarily, smiling to himself before looking up at you once more.
“Or you could say I’m going all in on someone I would like to get to know.” There’s cheerfulness in his voice that you haven’t heard in a long time, an unfamiliar yet heart racing aura of beginnings rather than the familiar imminent end that has surrounded your life for months. It makes you smile, but you can’t help but notice the sad glint in his eyes merely seconds before it’s gone.
“I…actually haven’t really thought about what I want to do.” You confess, diverting your attention to the landscape outside. Your life had always been planned. Whether it was wandering down paths that others had led you towards or the world leaving you no alternative option, you had never been offered the freedom of uninhibited choice. It was like the events had already been written, and you were just living it out like a character in a story everyone already knows the end to.
“Maybe you shouldn’t think about it.” His voice startles you, making you realize you had paused mid conversation.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve found that overthinking leads to indecisiveness.” He tilts his head, analyzing your reaction as if waiting for a specific response.
“I’m not indecisive, and I don’t overthink.” You deny, despite knowing full well you are and have always been.
He doesn’t look convinced. “Ok, then you’re afraid of regrets?”
“I’m just…I dunno…scared?”
He nods, displaying that he understands what you mean. “But you are here now, so you must’ve found some source of courage.”
You wouldn’t really consider your decision to stay on earth courageous. To you it was more like the final act of rebellion you had the chance of carrying out, not that you ever came close to rebelling in the past.
“Well?” The train has stopped, and you can tell he’s waiting for you to decide to get off with him or not.
It’s not forceful or pressuring in anyway, but communicates an air of patience you find to be very comforting. And there’s something about the way he speaks to you, the way he gauges your response as if he already knows what you’re about to say that inclines you to believe he knows more about you than logically possible for someone you just met. Maybe you were just easy to read, or this guy is just really good at reading social cues. Whatever it may be, you had two seconds to make your decision, and if the past has taught you anything, you already know that there’s no turning back.
…
Getting off the train, you’re surprised by the number of people still around and the cultural music dancing through the air. You expected the city to be less crowded and the mood to be more somber, a scene that makes the end of the world more obvious, in what way you weren’t sure, but definitely nothing close to what you were currently presented.
“They’re just here, like us, enjoying these last days.” He blinks slowly, somehow able to tell that the scene has left you dumbfounded.
“I guess I just expected something different” You reply, still looking around at the people laughing and chatting away in the outdoor seating areas of restaurants and coffee shops.
“Only 1% of the population left, and most of them probably didn’t live in old towns like this.” He glances at you from under the sunhat he had put on right after exiting the train.
His response puts a smile on your face. A picture of a smiling Hoseok and Yoongi flashes through your mind as you are remembered how they spoke about the privileged. It had been a long time since your mood has felt this light.
“So are you going to properly introduce yourself? Or am I going to have to ask you questions?” You narrow your eyes, feeling mischievous all of a sudden.
He laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges again. “It’s the end of the world. I could tell you anything and it wouldn’t even matter.” He skips a few feet ahead of you before twirling around and offering you his hand.
You’re surprised by your own lack of hesitation as you reach out almost instinctively.
“Wow, that was easier than expected.” He comments, referring to how quickly you accepted his offer compared to your obvious indecision back on the train, eyes almost wide as he gives your hand a light squeeze, making sure that it was indeed real, and his eyes weren’t just playing tricks on him.
“It’s the end of the world.” You shrug, repeating the words he had been reiterating since the two of you met. An unfamiliar fullness engulfs your heart, and you wonder if the boy next to you feels it too. You don’t remember the last time you had held someone’s hand like this or if you had ever held a hand that fit to yours so perfectly.
“Jungkook.” He suddenly breathes out, probably noticing the way you’ve been staring at your interlinked hands like he would suddenly let go or disappear into thin air.
“Huh?” You look up almost dazed.
“My name. It’s Jungkook.” He smiles, gripping your hand a bit tighter.
“Oh, um, I’m Y/N.” You response almost awkwardly, unprepared for his sudden revelation of sorts, trying to recall why the name seemed familiar while at the same time knowing with the utmost certainty you had never known a person with that name.
He bobs, the expression on his face making you almost suspect that this wasn’t new information to him.
“So what would you like to do, Miss Y/N?” He gestures at the completely foreign town, the lake and mountains not too far in the distance.
“I don’t know.” You reveal truthfully, not having thought this far yet. You were kind of just banking on intuition, but you were so caught up analyzing him along with your own shifting disposition that you hadn’t actually thought about the actual world and what you wanted to do. “With the virus and all, I had never made a bucket list or anything. I just assumed I would never get a chance to come to places like this anyways.”
“Even when it was nearly eradicated?”
“Then came this whole comet ordeal.” You sigh. “End of the world, remember?”
“Not like I could forget.” He starts swinging your interlinked arms causally. “Shall we just walk around then? Explore some abandoned buildings that may or may not be haunted.”
“You can’t seriously believe in ghosts, can you?” You cock a brow. “In this day and age?”
He cackles. “I was just testing you.”
“Sure you were” You flash him the look, but it doesn’t last before you’re consumed by his contagious laughter.
It wasn’t long before the two of you stumble upon a rather decent looking lodging facility, not that you were looking for anything fancy. The walls were made of stone, a suitable complement to the cobblestone roads you had been walking along since leaving the train station, with ivy crawling up the sides and lining the windows. The building gave off the impression that it was an affordable choice for two broke travelers, not that money really mattered anymore.
“We should probably put some of our stuff down and explore the city.” Jungkook suggests, looking up from the map on his phone.
You exhale slowly, almost having forgotten how heavy your backpack weighed on your shoulders. The sun had moved to the middle of the sky, causing beads of sweat to form and start sliding down your forehead. It wasn’t extremely hot, but you had opted to wear a few extra layers in an attempt to keep your bags a bit lighter.
Following him into the lobby, you don’t expect Jungkook to arrange a room for you as well, but he comes back with two keys to two separate rooms.
“Thanks” You voice softly as hands one of them to you.
“It would probably be safer to stay in the same room, but I don’t want you to think I’m some perverted stalker trying to take advantage of you.”
You smirk before failing to contain your own laughter. “I already assumed you were.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just let me know if you need anything, ok?”
You nod, glancing at him one last time before heading towards your room. He seemed concerned, or his mind was thinking about something else.
The room smelled moist and musky, with an almost rotten scent, like it hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time. Not that you were expecting some pristine hotel room or sterilized classroom like the facilities back in the cities during the viral outbreak, but it was pretty clear the place hadn’t been tidied in weeks. The bed sheets were unwashed, and the trash bins hadn’t even been emptied.
You walk over to open a window, hoping the air outside would somehow neutralize the pungent odor. Just as you were contemplating going over to suggest exploring the markets, you hear a knock at your door.
“Who is it?” You call out, hoping that it was just Jungkook coming back to check up on you.
There’s no answer, but you can hear the pounding get louder, like whoever was on the other side was trying to break down the door. There’s a loud crack as the wooden door pane splinters, the rusty knob just falling off and rolling across the floor. You’re frozen in place, eyes full of fear as you stare at the large man standing at the entrance.
He slowly walks towards you with a frown on his face, blocking your view of the hallway and only escape.
Before you could scream, you hear a loud bang and the next thing you know, the man was on the ground. Your eyes immediately dart up and to your uttermost relief, you see Jungkook with a lamp clasped in his hand, eyes wide with alarm.
“We need to get out of here” He exhales, quickly grabbing your hand and making a run for it.
You don’t get a chance to look back, all you can focus on is keeping up with Jungkook’s speed as he leads you back out to the street and navigates through the crowds of people.
“Wha-how did you…?” You look at him and back in the direction the two of you ran from, mind still reeling from the hasty course of events.
“It was my bad really, I should’ve know most places aren’t safe anymore.” He shakes his head, looking around at the people still gathered in large crowds when you’re finally at a safe distance from the lodge. “Maybe that’s why everyone is here out in the open.”
“Hey, it’s ok, we’re fine and there’s only like three weeks left anyways” You give his hand a tight squeeze, unsure of why you felt so compelled to make him feel better. Perhaps it was the sadness in his eyes, something you can’t seem to ignore because it looked so familiar yet you’re unable to comprehend it fully.
He sighs. “Three weeks…are you the type who prefers to count down?”
You want to forget about it, to not be constantly reminded that the world you once knew is gone and these last moments will soon be swallowed in the same way. But no matter how hard you try to ignore the thought, it’s always there at the back of your mind, a subconscious countdown that keeps showing up intermittently.
“I just want to be as prepared as possible, and I don’t like surprises.”
“Somehow that’s not so surprising.” He smiles for the first time in a while, and you don’t miss the hint of playfulness in his words. It’s reassuring and quells some of your anxiety.
“You don’t seem to mind this whole ordeal.” You suddenly blurt out. Ever since you met this dark haired doe-eyed Jungkook, he’s seemed so…okay with everything, like the end of the world was some kind of adventure and not a dark and dreary end to existence.
He cocks a brow. “Almost getting us into some deep shit back there?”
“No, the fact that we have three weeks left, and then it’s over.” You exhale, letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in for so long and finally feeling that weight being lifted off your chest.
His features relax as he turns to face you. “I’m looking forward to what lies beyond the end and in the meantime, making the most of what we are given now.”
You don’t quite understand what he means, and there are so many questions you want to ask, but the determined look in his eyes makes you wonder if you’re missing something deeper, something he wants to convey but is waiting for you to reach your own conclusion.
“Beyond the end?”
He chuckles lightly. “Like how people say endings give birth to new beginnings?”
“You sound like my mom.” You huff, knowing that he’s just playing around again and avoiding the real answer to your question.
“Do you miss her?” He suddenly asks.
“She was never really around much. Neither was my dad.” There’s an extended pause as Jungkook waits for you to continue, almost like he senses there’s more you want to say. “My brother Yoongi was my rock, the only person in my life that I could turn towards for guidance like an actual parental figure. My parents were loving and all, but being adopted, they were just nice picture parents. They didn’t offer me the kind of depth I needed. And my brother, you know, was older and I’m sure he didn’t think much of it at the time, but his advice was something I always took seriously, whether it was subconscious or not. His opinions impacted a lot of my decisions in life…” You trail off, thinking back to all the decisions you had made because Yoongi had expressed some form of bias towards it and still question to this day if they were the right ones. It’s not like you had that many regrets, but you can’t help but wonder if your life would’ve turned out differently had you made more choices independently. “You know I could’ve just said fuck it and did the thing I actually wanted to do.”
“Well, here’s your chance.”
…
The two of you decide that the safest place to sleep is the train.
Though it was often crowded and smelled of human sweat, it was still better than figuring how to set up a tent or having to climb a tree. And after the incident at the lodge, neither of you really wanted to risk it again. Besides, spending one or two days in one city is more than enough to grab some local food and do some sightseeing. You also realize that all of the towns sort of start blending into one another, like the days you’re still trying not to countdown. You’ve gotten to the point where it doesn’t bother you as much, at least not when you’re with traveling with someone you’ve grown too fond of too quickly, but in the best way ever.
“I guess I really didn’t think any of this through, but none of it really matters now, does it?”
You were trailing behind him in the orchard, the sun’s rays filtering through the leaves casting moving patterns on the ground. Spending the past few days visiting gardens and vineyards had been more fun than you had expected. The fruit was sweet and the flowers were bright and lively. Each farm you visited looked to stretch on for miles and miles, twisting and twirling along the hills and rivers. You had always been told that beauty existed in the most unexpected of places, and you were finally given the chance to witness it for yourself.
“You know there’s no point in living every day thinking about the fact that you’re going to die anyways.” He takes a bite of the apple he just picked off of one of the lower branches of the tree. The sound so crisp and juicy, you can feel your mouth salivating.
You release a light chuckle. “You’re telling me this when it’s literally the end of the world?”
He turns to toss you an apple. “I’m advising you to stop thinking about endings.”
Catching it in your hands, you stare at the intermingled colors for a moment, red, yellow, and a tad bit of green merging but never really mixing to become one. Taking a bite you realize its sweetness is lace with a tangy after taste, like those bittersweet endings you’ve come to know so well.
“I used to come to these places filled with so many thoughts on how to remember the details that I forget to enjoy the actual experience.” You pause, taking the time to decide if you wanted to continue.
Jungkook doesn’t make a sound, no signal to hint that he was going throw in commentary or interrupt your train of thought. You turn to glance at him, wondering if he’s wrapped in his own contemplation, only to find that he just looking at you, staring so intently you have to look away as you feel the blood rush to face.
“You’re still afraid of losing your memories, huh?”
It leaves his lips as a whisper, so soft that you are compelled to believe he was just mumbling to himself. You want to linger over his interesting choice of words, but you try not to think much of it and continue.
“So I tried to reason that if the journey is what we should be focusing on, I should just set goals that I’ll never reach. That way I wouldn’t have to deal with endings or being directionless in life.” You laugh. “And of course that backfired.”
“Continuously chasing after something you’ll never obtain?” He tilts his head towards the sun, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
You observe his side profile, visually drawing the outline of his silhouette and carving the image of his physical form into your brain knowing that it will last only as long as the end of time will allow.
“I just don’t like endings…or goodbyes…or even the thought that this is all there is to it.” You murmur, shifting your eyes back to the ground.
“There’s always more too it than you think.”
“And then I read somewhere that people don’t remember what you do but they remember how you made them feel.” You don’t know where you’re going with your outburst of thoughts, and maybe the diminishing days are convincing you to let it all out before it’s too late no matter how nonsensical everything you are saying is.
The breeze blowing by emphasizes the brief silence that follows, in which only the gentle rustling of leaves can be heard. You don’t know what else to say. You’ve never gotten this far in a conversation where your thoughts have been unhindered and you hadn’t planned an entire speech out. At this point you’re just waiting for him to respond, to tell you that you should stop thinking about uselessly irrelevant things or at least question why you’re telling him all this.
You watch as he turns to face you, not having realized you had closed the distance between you whilst ranting. He was so close you can almost feel the light brush of his shirt as it lifts up slightly in the wind and the heat of his body radiating off his smooth skin. His gaze is distracting. It’s something you’ve learned over the past week and then some. The way his dark pupils twinkle mysteriously almost mimicking those of someone’s you will never forget, but there’s something different about his. His eyes reflected the sunlight like there were stars inside.
You’re so enraptured by his beauty that you don’t realize he’s reduced the remaining space between the two of you to almost nothing, lips just millimeters away now. Without another thought, you lean forward and kiss him, mouth clumsily crashing with his. You can feel his lips curve into a smile as he kisses you back much in a much more composed and practiced manner, like he has done it a million times before, only you know that’s not possible. He breaks free temporarily only to murmur one sentence in response.
“I’ll always remember the way you made me feel.”
…
Time starts to fluctuate in ways you begin to lose track of.
Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night confused about where you were and frantically searching for something to calm your racing thoughts. You have dreams about different phases of your life, places you’ve been, people you used to know, only they are distorted in ways that make them almost unrecognizable. And then when you try to dig them up from your memories, you find that they are lost and everything has changed.
Now you find solace in the moonlight pouring through the curtain windows of the train and the solidity of Jungkook’s hand intertwined with yours as his jacket covers both of your bodies. The way he never leaves your side is unusual for someone you didn’t even know existed until about two weeks ago, and yet he gives you no reason to doubt that he would ever leave.
It’s something you’ve too grown familiar with, the scent of his body and the warmth of his smile. And as you walk the streets of foreign cities, navigating through crowds of strange people whose faces you won’t even remember, you choose to inscribe the details of his features in your memoirs, the softness of his skin, the width of his shoulders, the veins on his forearms…
You’ve learned that he enjoys gazing at large bodies of water, lakes, rivers, and oceans, which is why you find yourself on the beach at the last stop of your journey.
“Would it make sense to say I’ve always liked being alone, but I’m not too fond of being lonely?”
He takes a minute to contemplate your seemingly contradictory statement.
“Makes perfect sense to me.” He absentmindedly tosses a seashell at the incoming wave. It’s swallowed instantly, and all you can focus on is the foamy ripples that wane back into the seemingly endless blue. “I think what makes us feel lonely is being with people who don’t really understand us, and that doesn’t happen when you’re alone since you’re just by yourself. ”
“Wow, you’re the first person who hasn’t just told me I’m just being anti-social…well, technically the second.” You smile, breathing out slowly. “I think you and my brother, Yoongi, would’ve gotten along pretty well.”
“Did he leave?”
You nod, recalling the last image of him still safely tucked away in your memories.
“And you wanted to stay to enjoy these last few weeks.”
You arch a brow, having expected him to ask why you didn’t leave rather than stating the exact answer you would’ve given him had he asked.
“How’d you guess?”
He laughs. “I figured, since you don’t seem bothered wasting all this time with me.”
“True.” You smile. “Although I wouldn’t call it wasting…”
The salty sea breeze is something you definitely didn’t have the luxury of smelling growing up. This is your first time visiting the beach, first time seeing the ocean. Each day you’ve spent on this adventure of sorts with Jungkook has been a first…and a last now that you think about it.
“You’re right. I couldn’t have asked for a better end to life on earth.”
…
Home.
It’s not a concept you are familiar with in the traditional sense. It’s not a feeling you’ve experienced first hand nor is it a place you’ve truly been to.
But looking into Jungkook’s eyes you can see it.
You can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he embraces you in his arms not because it’s the end of the world and there is no one else to hold, but because it’s where you belong and neither of you would have it any other way.
“This can’t be it.” You choke out, already losing yourself to the rush of tears, though you had tried so hard to keep it together until the end. “W-we j-just met…”
He doesn’t say anything, but instead holds you tighter.
“I never even asked you anything about yourself. All I did was ramble on and on about me, throwing all my stupid thoughts out there like any of it mattered.” You’re tears won’t stop. You had always hated endings; putting the utmost effort into not caring so you wouldn’t have anything you were afraid of losing. But you just couldn’t do it. Not with him.
He flashes you one last smile as he gently cups your tear-streamed cheeks in his hands, a gesture that is not overpowered by a deep sense of hollowness but rather reflects an almost peaceful ray of hope.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here.”
…
…
“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched him die. I just remember always crying until I have no tears left to shed. But he always gives me that reassuring look, with those stars in his eyes and that twitch of his soft lips like it isn’t the last time, that we’ll for sure meet again.” You release a trivial laugh, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Of course, I never pick up on it until I’m about to wake up.”
The bar was dim and comparably quiet, being that it was only you and Namjoon sitting at the counter. It was a Monday night, not exactly the best of days to get drunk, but it’s not like you really cared, though you probably should. You had invited the entire lab out for dinner to celebrate the publishing of your most recent paper, which turned out quite pleasant and ended roughly an hour ago. All the other students and professors had gone home.
“He’s always waiting.” You murmur, staring at the shot glass in front of you, still talking as if you were by yourself, reiterating the words that continuously circle back in your head.
Namjoon looks up, startled by your sudden comment after a lengthy pause.
“I never have to look for him because he always comes back to me.” You scoff, bringing the glass up to your lips, tilting your head, and letting the liquid burn down your throat. “And then when I react like I’ve just met him for the first time, he just flashes that gentle smile of acceptance like I didn’t just break his heart.”
Your bottom lip quivers, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face. God, you feel ridiculous.
“And that happens every time?” Namjoon’s voice is barely a whisper, his eyes focused on his own glass.
“Never misses a beat.” You sniffle softy, picking up a napkin to dot away your tears. “I thought I was ok, but I guess I am insane.” You laugh pathetically.
“I understand. He means a lot to you.”
“He’s the kind of forever that never changes, the kind of time that does not reach an end just to continue that moment you’ve always wanted to last for an eternity.” You don’t even know what’s gotten into you, and though you’re aware of the mess you must look like right now, you can’t seem to pull it together.
There’s a long pause, and nothing but the sound of stifled music and distant footsteps can be heard.
“Professor Y/L/N, I know it’s not my place to be curious about your personal life, but can you really not think of a single person that resembles him, whether it is in the past or now?” Namjoon voice is more desperate than he probably intended, but any could tell you were not being quite yourself.
A forced smile makes it’s way to your lips as you shake your head. “He was always exactly what I needed. He was always too good to be real.”
“It’s not impossible.”
“It’s bad to be too dependent on other people.” You flash him an amused look, not really knowing what you are saying anymore as your head begins to spin from the alcohol. “And please, please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not weak or insecure.”
Namjoon doesn’t respond, sensing your tipsiness.
“It’s not that he gives my life meaning or that he makes me feel complete.” You run your hands through your hair, trying to keep your cool, but anyone could tell you’re losing it. “He’s the only truth in a world of lies. Even when I’m not aware that everything around me is merely a dream, he always feels like the only thing that is real, and for him I would be content never waking up because the rest of reality doesn’t even matter. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve long learned to be independent and logical, to refrain from getting lost in dreams, relying on others, and carrying expectations that will only result in disappointment. I’ve practiced the art of self-love for all my life, and I’m fine. My life has purpose, and I am complete the way I am.” You release a shaky breath, palms feeling cold and clammy. “I’ve always felt that I’ve had everything and yet… he offers more.”
You look up to meet Namjoon’s eyes that are nothing but sympathetic.
“How could I not want more?” You croak, beginning to cry again. “I’m so greedy.”
That’s what it is. Always wanting more, never feeling like what you have is enough. When will you learn to be grateful for what is and stop trying to obtain what is not yours to begin with?
“You are not greedy.” Namjoon’s voice is discreet, but firm. “You’re afraid to believe of his existence.”
Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “Because I know he doesn’t exist.”
“Then why do you keep going back?” His question is not for the purpose of attacking you or for blatantly calling you out for something you’ve been guilty of for years, but it catches you off guard, and you suddenly find yourself exposed… vulnerable.
“My research” You reply dryly, maintaining a steady voice amidst the fable you’ve been repeatedly telling everyone who’s ever asked. “I don’t really have a choice.”
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t try to force the truth out of you even though he knows exactly why. “No, I mean, why does your mind subconsciously always go back to him?” He murmurs, staring at the table solemnly.
His query once again seizes you in unfamiliar territory, and for the first time, you don’t know what to say or at least can’t come up with an answer that will not expose the true reason you’ve been experimenting. Because you know Namjoon is right.
Dread and bliss. Jungkook is feeling these things all at once. The plain white walls lacked personality. There were no photos or artworks hung up, making his new condo feel odd and unfamiliar.
Which it is. He only moved in 3 days ago, but the unopened boxes all about the spacious living room would make you think the moving truck just left a few hours ago. His cat Ae-cha sat at his feet while he gawked at the blank wall that was supposed to have his flat-screen hung up on it.
Her grey fur shined, the results of good care from his mother who was watching her for the past two weeks. She stared up at Jungkook, almost questioning him. She cocked her head to the side then looked around her, seeing all the untouched boxes.
Jungkook could only sigh and run his hair through his hair, which was getting a bit longer. He didn’t have time for a haircut lately, so he marked it as another thing on his to-do list.
The dread was coming from everything that had to be done. His stress was weighing on his shoulders, causing him to slouch on the skewed couch. It was randomly set down in the living room, making the big space seem even smaller.
He can’t blame anyone but himself for this mess.
He had just been promoted at work, which was a big deal; seeing as he worked for the Korean government. He went from a team member to the leader of his own team under the Korean Central Intelligence Agency. He was technically a rookie 3 years ago but proved himself useful thus having him promoted.
He now overlooks team SK0713, a team that is supposed to be composed of talents and geniuses. He’s excited, so excited that he’s gotten himself dressed 2 hours earlier for work. A 23-year-old man is nervous about work like a 13-year-old entering middle school for the first time.
He was returning from a 3-week vacation that the agency gifted him along with his promotion. He almost moved into a bigger condo. He knew he should have moved at the beginning of his vacation, but he wasn’t thinking clearly.
So here he is, sitting in the middle of a rushed mess. Only boxes that have been unpacked are the essentials. His clothes, his cooking ware, hygiene products, and Ae-chan’s items.
Ae-chan was getting tired of the boxes. They were taking up too much space, resulting in her using her nails to claw at the boxes.
Jungkook gets up from his spot on the couch and tip-toes around the boxes until he reaches the spacious kitchen. He fills Ae-chan’s bowl with food and with water, before taking another look around his condo. It was a good idea. Moving. He means moving was a good idea. He needed the space and the pay raise from his promotion was perfect timing.
He wondered just how much he stood out among his neighbors. Each floor held three condos, making it a smaller community of tenants. He was on the 8th floor and had yet to see his neighbors. He was thinking of going over to say hello, but that’s probably not something they did here.
He straightens his suit. The blazer and pants are navy and crips down to every seam. The vest over the white dress shirt really sold the look. He looked good, that much he knew. He grabbed his wallet and leather briefcase before saying a small goodbye to Ae-cha.
As he stepped out of his condo, out of the corner of his eyes he saw a blur of a figure entering the door to his neighbor’s condo. Soon after the door closed. He paused for a moment, thinking of just who his neighbors could be. He has barely seen anyone on the elevators. Everyone really sticks to themselves here.
The elevator ride down to the parking garage was like it always is. Quiet, and lonely. His drive to work was just as quiet. He was too nervous to turn on the radio like he usually does.
It isn’t like this is a new job. He knows everyone at the office! They know him! Except for this time, he’ll be walking in as a team leader. The expectations for him are different. They’ll raise their standards for him, and eyes will be watching him.
He’s one of the youngest to be appointed a team leader, so people will be expecting him to fail. It’s understandable. He heard of the reactions others had to his promotion. Now that he thinks about it, could the 3-week vacation have been given to him so the rest of the office could cool down?
He had a lot of superiors that believed they’d be the ones to receive the promotion. If he’d stayed around, whispers and dirty looks would encompass him.
He parked his car and turned the engine off, realizing he was just on time. Others were parking and stepping out of their cars to get into work. To even get into the parking lot he had to identify himself at the gates, something that is a standard precaution.
He stepped out of his car, grabbing his leather suitcase. He shut the car door before digging into one of the outer pockets of his briefcase. He grabbed his badge and in a messy fashion put it over his head as it hung from his neck.
His phone was in the pocket of his pants so he knew he had everything he needed for the day.
He entered the building, scanning his badge to enter as everyone needs to do.
It felt weird being back. It was only 3 weeks but he felt like he was returning to a totally different place. It felt just about as foreign as his condo. His movements felt too calculated and unnatural, but he can’t come off as scared.
He’s the team leader, and if he’s unsure the rest of the team will be rocky. He steps into the elevator, hitting the button to the 5th floor where his department is.
“Good morning Agent Jeon.” A voice says. His head shoots up, and his eyes grow wide. How did he not realize someone was in the elevator with him? The man looked familiar. He stood about the same height as him with honey blonde hair that was gelled back in the same manner as Jungkook’s hairstyle.
The man smiled at Jungkook before turning his attention to the elevator doors that were already opening.
“Do we know each other?” Jungkook asked, stepping off the elevator the same time as the man.
Both of them stop to turn and face each other. The unknown man stretches his hand out.
“I’m Kim Namjoon, I am starting under your team today.” Jungkook shakes his hand, the name ringing a bell. He did read the files of each of his team members. Kim Namjoon was coming from the National Intelligence Service.
“Ah yes, Agent Kim,” He says with a small smile, “I read your file. You are a very talented man, I am so looking forward to working with you.”
Agent Kim nods, “Please call me Agent Joon, we have another Kim on our team.” He states, gesturing for the two to walk through the clear double doors that lead to their team’s sector.
Jungkook nods to himself. Oh yes, there is another Kim. Kim Taehyung and Kim Seokjin. Including himself, there were 6 people on the team.
JUNGKOOK’S POV:
What were you so scared of Jungkook? At least that’s what I’m thinking to myself at this very moment. The men I was worried about aren’t the rigorous and serious people I expected. When I first entered the meeting room, 5 pairs of eyes looked my way.
Agent Joon showed me a kind smile before looking back at the laptop opened before him. The other 4 men gazed on in curiosity. All their gazes were kind, more trying to get a sense of me as a person.
This is my team. These people are who I will be working with for years to come. I am in charge of leading us the right way and any missteps will always fall on my head. I can’t be sure how long I stood at the door frozen, but it was long enough for Agent Joon to clear his throat nervously.
I snapped out of my trance and fully stepped into our meeting room, managing a stiff smile onto my lips.
“Good morning.” I voiced, walking around the large circular table to set my briefcase down. I made sure to look each man in the face as I took my seat, hoping there wouldn’t be an awkward silence that follows.
“Good morning.” They all reply.
It wasn’t long before they all spoke up, introducing themselves to me. Agent Taehyung sat at his seat with a thick binder opened in front of him. His hair was a chestnut brown and swept back from his face. His hair was a bit longer and looked like it was cut in a mullet fashion. He was the most talkative, diving into a random conversation after the introduction was over.
Agent Seokjin was studious, wearing some rectangular frame glasses and his black haircut a bit shorter. His hair fell on his forehead and almost obscured his eyebrows. His introduction was short and brief before he went back to looking at his phone screen.
Agent Jimin and Agent Hoseok were chatting among themselves when it was their turn to introduce themselves. I believe they were assigned the same case in the past, making them friends in the office. I’d see them in passing, oftentimes gossiping or sharing stories of what they did on the weekend.
Hoseok was the loudest of us, introducing himself with a loud voice and a wide smile. He shared with us that he graduated with a degree in criminology and wasn’t expecting to gain a position with the Central Intelligence Agency when he replied.
“I did it for shits and giggles.” Were his exact words, as he grinned at me. His smile was contagious, as I found myself smiling as well.
Jimin seemed a bit shy as he introduced himself, not going into detail about himself as Hoseok did, but he showed a kind smile afterward. Namjoon simply stated his name, closing his laptop and crossing his arms afterward.
I took a deep breath, “I’m Jungkook, you can call me Agent Jeon, Agent Jungkook, or just Jungkook. I am very excited to be working with all of you. Chief Min has sung nothing but praises all of you and your work. He told me that he believed our team could do great things and I’m looking forward to what we can accomplish.” I finished my small speech with an approving smile from everyone.
We were left to chat among ourselves for some time. Agent Joon was explaining to Agent Jimin and I just what he specialized in. The atmosphere was kind and welcoming, lifting the stress that sat on my shoulders. No one here was doubting me because of my young age, everyone was showing mutual respect and it reflected in the kind eyes everyone had.
It wasn’t long before the conference room doors swung open, revealing Chief Min Yoongi of our department. He walked in with multiple yellow folders tucked under his arm. He wore a white dress shirt with a blue tie and dress pants.
His hair has changed since I saw him 3 weeks ago. It was no longer the dark brown color I’d come to know so well. It was now a jet black color and cut shorter than before.
His entrance seemed to cut the relaxed feeling that was buzzing through the air. He wore a frown on his lips and his steps were quickly paced. Before he spoke, a silence fell over us, and he held our attention immediately.
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give you this case.” He spoke, more to himself than anyone in the room. He kept his eyes on the black metal table we all sat at, and even though there was an extra chair, he made no attempt at sitting down.
He plops the folders onto the table, urging us each to grab a copy. Though I am the leader of this team, cases are given to us by Chief Min. He decides which teams in the agency handle which cases and which teams advance onto higher security clearance levels.
Chief Min is far from soft-spoken, but he’s a man of few words. He doesn’t participate in idle chatter or the gossip of the office. He comes in, does his job, and goes home. He has worked for the agency longer than any of us and is someone you want on your side.
“Agent Joon,” Chief Min looks at Namjoon’s way as we all grab a folder, “he was added to this team specifically for this case.”
I glanced at Namjoon who nodded in confirmation of the Chief’s words.
“It’s going to be a long journey, and other countries have failed but I think we can put an end to this,” Chief mutters, placing both his hands into his pockets.
I flip open the folder, surprised at the words in front of me.
Confidential: Ruby Killer - International Assassin? [Case 4256]
Y/N’S POV:
I walked into my apartment and groaned, throwing my gym bag on the floor as I slipped off my sneakers.
“Bad gym run?” Dahyun shouted from her seat on the couch. That’s exactly where she sat when I left 3 hours earlier. Her long brown hair was pulled into a messy bun and the fresh set of sweats told me she took a bath when I was gone.
It wasn’t anything weird for Dahyun to be up at the earlier hours of the morning. It would be more strange if I didn’t wake up to her typing away at her laptop which she munched on her blueberry bagel. She’s been my roommate for years and no matter what happens, she doesn’t change routine.
Of my two roommates, Dahyun is my favorite. Momo, my other roommate, is more carefree and spontaneous than Dahyun. Momo doesn’t like to wake up and do the same thing as she did yesterday and though I’d wish she wasn’t so reckless, she adds some excitement to my day-to-day.
“The gym is the gym,” I answered, walking past Dahyun on the couch and making my way to the kitchen. We’ve only lived in the condo complex for a year, and I’m still not used to it.
Our previous apartments were quieter and a bit dainty but we listened to Momo and went with something more luxurious.
“We deserve to treat ourselves.” That is what Momo said. Ultimately, she convinced Dayun and I which landed us here. The more that I think about it, the more I agree with Momo. We deserve to treat ourselves as we’ve been working ourselves to the bone. I have really been working myself to the bone.
There are some days where I wish I could take a vacation but…my services are in high demand.
“Any new hits?” I said as I grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge. Dahyun doesn’t even look up from the computer, nodding her head as the typing on her keyboard sped up.
“There are always new hits.” She mutters, the smile clear in her tone, “There are a lot of fucked up people in the world that want someone dead.”
I giggled at her words, “If those people are fucked up; what are we, the people who kill for them?”
She stops typing for a second and stops to look at me with a cheeky grin, “We are simply people who are good at their job.”
She turns back to her laptop and her continuous typing begins.
All of my hits are received in a specific way. Thanks to Dahyun who is an expert on anything with a keyboard, clients find me on the dark web. I don’t know the details but Dahyun has made some type of form or website in which clients can send targets. Thanks to how vast the dark web is, along with the crazy long trail to even find us.
Dahyun created some fake website about Yoga, and the crazy tricks one would have to go through, to get to the deep web from that website, let alone find us; leaves me feeling secure. Before I met Momo and Dahyun, I was having customers leave postcards at certain locations. I thought that left less of a trail.
Who would have thought that the internet would leave less of a trail?
Momo then does her research on the client and on the target and does the money collecting. She has her different ways of doing so, but she’s become accustomed to using the small coffee shop that Dahyun owns.
The coffee shop was previously owned by her father and when he passed, the shop became hers. It’s more of her side job. She has a hired manager and employees who take care of everything.
Momo works there part-time and I help out sometimes. After Momo filters out the jobs and gets the money, I carry out the job.
The only thing I do other than contract kills and helping at the coffee shop is paint. I’d like to say it’s a hobby but it’s taken off a lot more than I’d expect. The first time my art was presented in a big art gala, I felt like my heart was going to explode.
After the 23rd time, it’s boring. My work has become a regular in Seoul’s Gallery of Art & Sculpture. They hold about 7 new collections every year and this is the 3rd year they’ve reached out to me. I am thankful that I decided to do art under an alias. That keeps both my name and face a secret and always allows me to live my life anyhow.
However, Contract kills bring in most of the money.
“Have Momo take a look at the jobs,” I instructed.
“I’ve already emailed them to her, but I’m pretty sure she’s hungover in her room. We won’t see her till 1 pm.” Dahyun snickers before reaching out to the small living room table to grab her leftover blueberry bagel.
I scoffed, “Of course! She needs to stop partying on Sunday nights! It just makes her Monday morning worse!”
Dahyun hums in agreement, “She doesn’t like to make things easy for herself. But I’m sure she’ll find time to do some scooping. In the meantime, how is your latest project going?”
I rolled my eyes at the question. I chugged down the rest of my water and tossed the bottle into the trash can.
My body was already feeling sore, seeing as I switched up my workout routine recently. My body hasn’t gotten used to it. I don’t go to the gym often. I go just once a week, or when I’m stuck on a project.
“By that reaction, it’s rough.” She sighs, “You didn’t get any inspiration in America?” She recalls my trip to the US. I was in France for some of February, and in the US till the beginning of March.
“If I couldn’t find inspiration in France, the US definitely wasn’t gonna give me anything.” I retorted in a light tone. I pulled my phone out of the thin slip pocket my polyester workout pants had.
I missed a call from Sohyun, the art curator from Seoul’s Gallery of Art and Sculpture. I walk out of the kitchen and through the living room to get to my room. My room is at the furthest end of the hallway, making it so I must pass Dahyun’s room and Momo’s room.
I stop for a second, looking at Momo’s closed door. I stroll over to the door and knock lightly. I listened for a short moment, seeing if she was awake at all.
I was about to walk away when I heard a small groan from the other side of the door.
“Momo!” I hollered, making sure she could hear me. I hear another groan followed by some shuffling.
“You don’t have to get up, just make sure you drink some water. Please check your emails when you get the chance. We got some new jobs.” I say. I waited in silence and walked off when I heard a small response.
“Okay.” She groans. I retreat to my room and take a quick shower. I changed into some sweats and was ready to settle into my queen-sized bed when my bedroom door swung open.
Dahyun stood there, her cell phone pressed to her ear, her eyes focused on me. I stared at her with wide eyes, my arms open in confusion.
“You know knocking is a thing?” I jeered, grabbing my pillow to throw at her. She dodges the pillow easily, bending down to grab it from the floor and carelessly tossing it back onto my bed.
“Okay…okay,” Dahyun said to whoever was on the phone, “It’s totally fine Lisa, rest up.”
My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I fell back onto my bed in a huff. That was Lisa? I already know what Dahyun is coming to ask me.
Lisa is an employee at the coffee shop, one who has a habit of calling out with the most outrageous excuses.
I’m pretty sure her grandmother has died at least 4 times, and Dahyun is too preoccupied with other things to care about.
“Y/n-”
“I know what you’re going to ask!” I shout, “And the answer is no! I have to figure out what my next art piece will be!”
“Y/n, please!” She begs before tossing herself onto the bed beside me. She casually throws an arm around me and cuddles close to me. She changes her voice from her raspy and aggressive tone to her sweet and passive voice. I only ever hear her speak like that when she’s asking for something.
“It’s only till 1! Lisa called out!”
“When doesn’t Lisa call out?” I hiss, “You should have fired her by now! What was it this time?” I keep my eyes on the ceiling and shake my head.
“She’s sick, and can’t come in. Her shift is 11 to 4 but could you just do 11 to 1:30 for me? I’ll call around and send someone in. I would have asked Momo if she wasn’t still recovering from last night.”
I didn’t answer right away, leaving us in silence for a moment.
“Okay, fine. But I won’t stay a minute past 1:30.” I give in, wiggling out of her arms and with a pout on my lips.
“Thank you, Y/n! I owe you one!” She chimes, not leaving her spot on my bed.
“Yeah, you sure do! It’s more like you owe me a few!”
I grumbled as I slipped on a pair of dark-washed jeans, and pulled on a plain black t-shirt. I throw my hair into a presentable hairstyle and do a quick check of my face. I rush to put on some deodorant under my armpits, having to slide my arms under my shirt to do so.
The familiar lavender-like smell of my deodorant filled my nostrils, near overpowering the little bit of body mist I sprayed on. Though I took a shower, I was worried that some traces of my sweat could make an appearance while working.
The coffee shop tends to get hot. Though we are slowly entering spring, cold days still rear their head, winter refuses to let us step foot into the comfortable spring weather. I prefer the winter. At least when it comes to working at the coffee shop. I wish I could call it a small shop that struggles with customers, but Dahyun has done a lot with the place.
She expanded the space, bringing a large lounging area with booths and plug outlets, making the shop a hot spot for college students and casual business meetings.
The other sitting area was closer to the front of the shop, with the register clear in view. They were cute square tables. Some were large others were small. The dark wood tables were accompanied by matching chairs.
The large windows let the sunshine in, giving the place a bright and cheeky atmosphere. At night, the chestnut wooden blinds would be drawn and change the shop into a tranquil space. The walls were mostly a coin grey color, with a few walls made of white brick. It was a beautiful shop. One of those places that you’d simply sit there for your lunch. There was no need to go elsewhere.
The shop served food, coffee, tea, and smoothie drinks. Dahyun often speaks of opening a second location outside of Seoul. She doesn’t have time. I’d hate to think that our other work is one of the reasons she can’t expand. I often tell her I could go back to my previous methods and she could rest, but Dahyun protests each time.
The coffee shop, which Dahyun’s parents named ‘Coffee Pot Spot’, is something she takes pride in. She doesn’t actually stop by often, but when she does; she looks joyous.
I grab my bag and necessary items, throwing a glance at Dahyun who was looking too comfortable on my bed. I nearly forgot to grab a pair of socks. I slip on some ankle socks before grabbing for my plain non-slip sneakers.
“You better not be there when I’m back,” I warn, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes at my words.
“Okay mom,” She whined, sitting up to look at me with a small smirk on her lips.
“Thank you Y/n,” She repeats, her hair now a big disheveled mess. The ponytail holder now slipped off her hair, and strands strewed in many directions.
“You don’t have to say thank you a hundred times,” I say, trying to muffle my giggles with my hand. I leave my bedroom door open as I stroll out and down the hallway, only to nearly crash with another body.
Momo stood there with her hair pulled into a messy bun. The traces of her green highlights peered through her jet black strands. Most of her green highlights were at the bottom half of her head, making them barely visible.
She had bags under her eyes, and she slouched as she stood. She looked at me through her narrowed eyes before casting her eyes down on the floor. The low lighting in the hallway was still too bright for her sensitive eyes.
“Rise and shine.” I teased, not stopping to chat. She didn’t move from her spot, zoning out with her focus on the floor.
I was out the door before I knew it, digging through my bag to find my car keys. I don’t drive often and have grown used to riding my bike, however, the slight stinging of my thighs as I entered the elevator reminded me of the soreness that would be joining me sometime tomorrow.
By the time I park my car at the Coffee Pot Spot, I’m sighing in relief at how empty the lot is. It’s not too busy. I mean I didn’t expect much for 10 am on a Monday. I arrived a little early, just cause I’m expecting things to be a mess.
However, I was surprised when I arrived to see things running smoothly.
“Oh, you’re here!” Sunoo looked up from the drink he was making. Sunoo is one of the manager’s in training. He started working for Dahyun no less than 6 months ago, but his ability to be bubbly in the morning has proven well.
He’s a hard worker with a genuinely good heart. Looking at him reminds me of my youth. He’s only 18 and already getting a manager position. He works hard and anyone can see that.
“Yeah, I came in a bit early because I was worried about how things would look but you’ve got it under control,” I admitted, still standing on the customer’s side of the counter. I moved to the side as Sunoo set the drink he finished onto the counter and the woman standing a bit behind me stepped forward.
“Thank you so much.” He says as she picks up the drink. The woman smiles back, shuffling around me with her drink in her hand.
Sunoo looks over at me with a small smile, “I’ll just have you on the register.”
I nodded, “That sounds easy enough, there will be a lunch rush soon; so this gives me time to warm up.” He giggles at me, opening the small waist-height door that lets me into the back of the shop. I walked around the other worker, Jennie who said a small hello to me.
After placing my stuff in the office I grabbed one of the aprons and put it on quickly. The smile of coffee was flowing in the air, wrapping me in familiar warmth. The chatter of the few customers that were sitting down and the continuous humming of the machines made a wave of fondness wash over me.
If I didn’t do what I do, I’d probably work here full time.
When I step back out to the front of the shop, Jennie was at the register. She is helping a group of girls that were chatting among themselves. I could already tell by how Jennie’s shoulders tensed, the girls were giving her a problem.
I watched Jennie nervously swipe her long ponytail to the front of her shoulder, having it sit on her chest. My eyes look over to the girls. One of them, the one with a blunt bob, smacked her gum while staring at Jennie who I think was saying something.
I stepped up, gaining the girl’s attention before Jennie was aware of my presence.
“Jennie, I’ll take over,” I said with a smug smile on my lips. Jennie sighed a breath of relief, my eyes flickering to Sunoo who was watching the interaction closely.
Sunoo’s idea of customer service doesn’t align well with my blunt attitude. The customer is always right? Fuck that! I don’t have the time or the patience.
“How can I help you?” I asked, stepping up to the register as Jennie went back to her original station by the sink.
“I was till Jennie over there,” The girl with the blunt bob is the first one to speak, “That I wanted to participate in your ‘Step into Spring’ promo. It says that for each fruit smoothie you get, you get another half off. She was telling me some nonsense that I didn’t understand.” She pops her gum once again, her icy glower looking down at my apron for a name tag. When she doesn’t see one, she looks back up at my face.
“Yes, I know exactly what you’re talking about. The promo you probably saw on your previous receipt. Well, that promo doesn’t start till the first of April. And as you know…it’s only March 22nd.” I cocked my head to the side, hoping my friendly smile was enough to cover the snobbish look in my eyes.
“Well, why don’t you say so?” She raises her voice.
“We do.” I answer plainly, “It’s there…on the receipt. Would you like me to print out an example so you can get a better look?”
She stays silent, staring at me before wordlessly turning around to leave. Her group of friends followed her, making sure to throw me a dirty look before they left.
I brought my hand up to my mouth to keep from giggling. I whip around to see Sunoo leaning against the counter with a knowing look.
“What?” I ask obviously, “If you ask me, that was an excellent display of customer service!” I hold my chin high and look at Jennie for support. She is biting on her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“Yeah, not when your eyes are practically begging for a fight the whole time! You need to work on that!” Sunoo said in a spirited tone.
“She knew she was in the wrong and wanted to bully Jennie into allowing the promo early. See how quickly she backs down? Just a group of girls who think they can bully to get everything in life.”
“I knew girls like that in school,” Jennie muttered, turning around to clean a few things in the sink.
“We all knew someone like that.” Sunoo agrees, pushing his body off the counter.
“Let’s get ready for the lunch rush,” Sunoo instructs. We move quickly, washing any instruments that need to be watched. I clean up the tables and chairs along with the lounge and booths. We restock on everything and set everything in place.
Just as I am wiping down the register, my last task, the bell of the front door rings. The beginning of the lunch rush. Before I know it, we’re continuously working. I don’t have time to look up and see how long the line is, things like that cause anxiety, so I just focus on whoever is in front of me at the moment.
“That’ll be $6.45,” I announce as the customer swipes their card. The receipt was printed and I gave it to them. I turned around to make sure that the order went from the computer register to be displayed on the small screen in the back. That screen is what Jennie and Sunoo look at to know what orders to make next.
“Thank you so much,” I said to the customer as they walked off. And I basically repeat that for the next hour and a half.
It’s not till an hour and a half later that I can catch my breath, the lunch rush reaching its end moments.
“Good job,” Sunoo cheers to both Jennie and I, “It got a bit chaotic but we got through it with only one customer complaint. It’s alright for you both to take a small break. Decide who goes first.”
I look over at Jennie, questioning with my eyes, “Do you wanna go first?”
It’s just a fifteen-minute break, and we can hold down the fort till she comes back. When she comes back, I’ll go on a quick fifteen-minute break. Jennie agrees, already untying her apron as she walks towards the back office.
I turn back to the front, doing some quick cleaning and tidying up. I only help about 2 customers and am about to search for Jennie as her 15 minutes is up when the front doorbell rang. I kept my eyes on the register computer screen, hoping my annoyance isn’t evident.
“Hi, welcome to Coffee Pot Spot, May I get a name for the order?” I try to keep my voice sweet, knowing my break would be spent being lectured by Sunoo.
I hear some low voices talking among each other and the shuffling of feet.
“Umm…” A voice begins, sending chills down my spine. My shoulders tense and in that instance, it feels like I’ve been hit over the head with a brick.
“It’ll be a few drinks but you can put them all under Jungkook.” The man said, causing my head to snap up. My eyes landed on the man’s face, but his eyes were focused on the menu hung up on the further back wall. He was with six other gentlemen who were all tuned into the menu.
But the longer I stood there, the longer the other men faded into background extras. The young man in front of me…Jungkook was his name?
Big doe eyes that sparkled, and a small smile teasing the corner of his lips. A very handsome man. You’d stop and stare if you saw him on the street. He wore a nice suit and his black hair was styled nicely. It was a bit on the long side but he worked it well.
I see handsome men come in here all the time but..this is weird. This is strange. My body is reacting with repulsion? Fear? Disgust?
My heart is pounding in my ears and a heavyweight of danger has sat on my chest. As the man moves his eyes from the menu to me, I can’t be sure what my face looks like.
The way his smile wavers and his brows furrowed with concern, tells me I looked just as freaked out as I was feeling.
“Is everything okay?” He asked. And just like that, his face flashed to something else right before my eyes.
My eyes widened and I blinked vigorously as the scene around me changed into something else, however only one thing stayed the same. His face. But the scene around his face changed right before my eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asks again, his concern growing. He looks to the men behind him, clearly confused as to what he should do.
“Are you…” He begins again but the scene around him is changing again. The setting is different, the people are us are different, the time period is even different. But this…this is definitely the same man.
“…the foreign painter?”
I stood there staring up at the man. Ugh, what kind of assignment is this? I travel all this way…for this? We stand in the large outdoor court area, the hot sun almost roasting my skin at this point.
I stared up at Joseon’s King as he stood many feet away from me. He wore a beautiful red Royal robe with golden detailing. A red waistband with jade gems decorating it and his hair was tied up on a tight bun with an intricate gold hairpin.
I am in a foreign land called Joseon. A small kingdom with 3 sides surrounded by water. A land I have not been to before, and I have traveled to many lands.
I look at the court of people surrounding the King. Several men in less extravagant robes of different colors. One person stood right beside him, holding an umbrella to shield him from the sun.
Several men stood around him in green robes, whispering among themselves as they looked me up and down.
“This is the great painter those in the west speak of?” One of them whispered.
“The King requested their services but I didn’t know it was a woman!” Another whispered. I trained my eyes on them, making one of them take a small step back.
“Can she understand us?” He snarled.
I simply stood there in my loose one-piece outfit, my art, and supplies all compiled in my large carrying case. I doubt I looked intimidating. Of course, they were underestimating me. Did they not know I was a woman?
In the months of travel to arrive here, I studied the language from the messenger The King sent for me. I am not fluent but I can understand pretty well. I have been sought out by many people for my work. North, south, east, and west but…but never this far east. How has my name and my works spread this far?
I looked back at the King. A handsome young man with big eyes that sparkled and a friendly smile on his lips. The most friendly of all the people in front of me. He had to be no older than me. I was expecting an old man, so this is a pleasant surprise.
The friendly smile didn’t take away from the powerful aura that radiated around him. This is a man of great power and responsibility. It was clear in the way he held his head high and the stiff posture of his back.
“Well, are you?” He asked again, snapping me out of my thoughts. He spoke in his native language. His first question wasn’t. But I guess watching my interaction with the men in his court, he understands that I understand.
“Yes.” I answered, “I am Y/n L/n. You requested my work.”
I ignored the small gasps from his court. The way I am speaking may be seen as disrespectful, seeing as this is their king. I have painted for many royal families and I am tired of figuring out if I should bow, avoid eye contact, or whatever custom that country has.
I will just speak in a clear and soft tone so as to not anger anyone. Yet somehow, along with my work, a rumor of my awful attitude carried with it.
The King however waved off the gasps of his subjects, telling them to hush. Rather than looked disrespected, he looked like he wanted to laugh.
“Your surname is L/n?” He stared at me with amusement in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Thank you for coming all this way. I have seen your work once or twice. No other painter in these lands has met my satisfaction since my eyes have gazed upon your work.”
I could only nod, “Thank you.”
“Someone will show you to your quarters.” The King said. He turned around to leave when I spoke up.
“Excuse me, your highness,” I called out. The tension and the way his court froze were no bother to me. The wide eyes of shock from his court tell me I’m pushing my luck. Ugh. I’m gonna have to study their customs a bit more, aren’t I? I want to avoid getting too many people angry.
He turns back around to face me and I notice a figure walking up behind him. The look on her face isn’t friendly. She stares at me with venomous eyes. She wears a hanbok. It’s a lovely pink and green. Not as wonderful as the King’s but still beautiful.
It’s like she walked out to see what all the commotion was about.
“Yes, L/n.” He smiles again, not a trace of anger on his face.
“What is your name?” I asked seriously. I watch as the smile on his face widens before he throws his head back in laughter. It may have been a mixture of amusement and disbelief. No one else follows in his laughter, but rather looks at their King like he has lost his mind.
When he finished laughing he looked at me, his lips pressed together tightly as if he wanted to laugh again.
“Jungkook. I am called Jungkook.”
“Y/n?!” A hand is placed on my lower back and I am snapped back to reality. At that moment, the pain I felt in my head intensified. My head is filled with images, memories, and information all at once.
I can barely acknowledge Sunoo who stands behind me with a supportive hand on my back. A hand I start to lean into as the Jungkook who stood in front of me at this coffee shop, blurred.
I begin to fall back, panic clear on Jungkook’s face; and Sunoo calling to me frantically. My vision goes black and my body feels light. Somewhere along the way, sometime before everything fades to black, something within my smiles.
We meet again…your Highness.
- - - - - - ❀
This chapter was a little choppy, but I hope y’all liked it! Please let me know what you think :DDD
since a lot of you have been eager to read more about our dear fuckboy jungkook and oc, you can suggest in my inbox what moments between the two you’d love to read. i’ll write small drabbles (with or without smut) based on your suggestions and i’ll post them just randomly. please keep in my mind that i’ve already written down a drabble with oc and jungkook on his motorcycle that will be posted very soon. my biggest fear with the continuation of this one-shot is to not have enough ideas so i believe this way, this will be a series written by all of us ❤️
on top of that, i’d like to mention that everyone that was tagged on the fic will automatically be tagged on the drabbles & if you weren’t tagged but would like to be now, just let me know ❤️
Jungkook was used to getting what he wanted. He was handsome, disgustingly so, and he knew how to flirt his way in (and out of) danger. He lived for and with his brothers. He didn’t know anything but his found family. Still, happening upon you was one of the best decisions he ever made.
Now… How to make you realize that your life was missing him as much as his had been missing you.
(angst/yandere / smut / gore / fluff)
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 4.0k
author’s note: yn’s not going down without a fight tho, is she?
Chapter 8 ‘Mission’
When you wake up, you are stunned to realize that you had actually been able to fall asleep under the circumstances. Usually, you would have been too uncomfortable to truly relax, but here you were, slobbering all over their expensive-looking couch.
It wasn’t dark outside by any means but it was significantly later than you had expected it to be.
The sun was high in the sky hidden behind the film of heavy clouds, so you presume it to be around early afternoon. The world below you was alive and bustling, despite the gray and drab weather and, humorlessly, you realize that it seems to match your mood perfectly.
Your skin feels heavy from where it had been pressed heavily into the soft sofa and as you lift your head fully, you can sense that you aren’t alone. Pressing into the grooves of your skin, you slowly turn your head toward the source of the soft sound of turning pages.
It wasn’t Jungkook, thankfully.
Jimin glances over the head of his comic book and says, “Don’t mind me.”
Unconsciously, tension leaves your body.
Jimin, objectively, wasn’t any better than Jungkook to have around - both of them being your captors - but something about waking up to see Jungkook’s metaphorical wagging tail and puppy dog eyes would have set you off something fierce.
Your nerves are shot, trembling lightly where they fist the material pooling at your stomach, and you glare at the other man, annoyed by the nerve of his sunshine-like expression.
“I wasn’t going to,” you grumble, voice croaky and thick with sleep. You clear your throat and sit up, feeling the urge to relieve yourself. Begrudgingly, you ask, “Where’s the bathroom?”
Jimin looks up and asks, voice filled with sarcasm, “You aren’t going to try and climb out the window, right?”
You glare at him but he simply shrugs. Jimin explains, “I got put on YN-watch tonight, so I have to make sure you aren’t left alone. At all. Jungkook would kill me.”
You say, barely able to hide your pout, “This is insane, you know that right?”
Jimin nods in agreement. He explains, easily, “Sure. It’s also incredibly illegal. But that’s never stopped us before.”
You scoff, lip curling in annoyance, “Right. I shouldn’t expect decency from people like you.”
He laughs, loud and sudden, like the sound was shocked out of him. “Decency? Says the person who held a gun on me and threatened to cut my eyes out.”
“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” you retort, dismissively. Jimin pins you with a look and you huff, “Okay. But, I didn’t do it. That’s the important part. Plus, you had assaulted me first. I was just protecting myself.”
Jimin gives you a dry look, not even the slight bit amused by your excuses. The pink-haired man gracefully moves to his feet, tossing the comic back onto the table with a couple others from the same series, and he says, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Come on. I made lunch. You can shower, get changed then eat.”
He leads you out of the library and through the ornately-decorated apartment, too quickly for you to be able to take note of much besides the fancy decor and messy living room. Jimin walks to a room and pushes open the door. The first thing you notice is an expensive-looking drum-set in the corner of the room, a pair of overhead earphones sat on the stool and a worn pair of drumsticks are on the computer desk.
Three of the four walls are dark, charcoal black wallpaper with a slightly raised design that you wanted to trail your fingers across. One main wall is ivory white, with a huge bed pushed into the corner, low with many soft white pillows piled at the head of the bed. The room is smaller than you expected but it seems designed that way, as if comfort and coziness was the aim instead of grand expressions of luxury.
You say, eyes sweeping around the area, “This is Jungkook’s room, isn’t it?”
You miss the bemused expressions that passes over Jimin’s face. He hums. “Yeah, it is.”
The floor is coated in dark gray carpet, soft but it feels reinforced under your feet. You suspect there’s a couple of layers of carpet to insulate the room. Two paintings are reclined against the white wall, and they don’t seem to be designer, but they could be hung in an art gallery somewhere. They fit the soft dark aesthetic of the room and you want to take a closer look but Jimin pushes open a door you hadn’t seen when you first entered.
“Jungkook won’t mind if you use anything of his,” he comments. He opens up a drawer and hands you a towel. It’s soft and it smells good, even when you hold it at a distance. One thing you have noticed about being in Jungkook’s space was that the freak was tidy - anally so. Contrary to the rest of the apartment that had dots of mess, clothes draped over furniture and dishes in the sink, showing it to be lived in, his personal space was pristine. You almost didn’t want to touch anything, in case you knocked it out of its perfect harmony with the rest of the room. “Wear something of his, a sweater or something.”
“I don’t want to,” you grumble. “Give me something of yours.”
He snorts. “You see this?” He points to his black eye. “I got this for just mentioning you. I refuse to lose a tooth because he sees you in something of mine instead of his.” Jimin lets out a small chuckle at the gentle shock on your face. “It’s that or you walk around naked.”
“I’m tempted to take you up on that but I’d rather die than give you the satisfaction of seeing my perfect tits in real time,” you snark. You roll your eyes but bring the towel closer to your chest. “Go.”
Jimin smirks but disappears out the way you both came.
With the sound of the door closing behind him, you feel the strong wall you had built up inside of you collapse for a moment before your frown deepens. You slump against the doorframe leading to the bathroom and close your eyes, holding the towel tight to your chest.
You have to figure out how to get out of here, and fast. You have to figure something out before Jungkook gets back.
Jimin is on edge around you. He won’t turn his back to you. He was probably told to keep you in his line of sight every second. It’s a fortune he left you alone to wash your ass, but perhaps the risk of actually seeing a pair of breasts had the pink-haired maniac running for the hills. He didn’t seem averse to women, but then again, you weren’t one to judge, having found yourself twisted in the sheets with every flavor of the human-rainbow - some of them, more than once.
You walk into the bathroom and struggle with the knob of the shower. It comes out powerfully, and takes mere seconds to warm up. It was enticing, the urge to wash the last couple of days off. You have to be careful of your hand, the burn tingles a little but it doesn’t hurt - not enough to take any medication, at least. You stare at yourself in the mirror, watching your reflection slowly becomes absorbed by the steam filling the room. You wipe a hand across the surface of the glass, so you can see your own face, before you hang your head in surrender.
You had come to a wretched conclusion during these few moments of blessed freedom.
For now, you would have to play their game.
And that meant doing as they wanted, no matter how frustrated it made you feel.
You shower, taking care of your wrapped wrist, and dress in a pair of boxers fresh out the packet and a huge sweater. You practically drowned in the material, having to roll the sleeves up three times before you could see your own hands. Jungkook had a huge collection of socks and you grabbed the funniest looking pair you could find - yellow and green spots with a cartoon frog stitched on either side. You looked stupid, but it was better than nothing. And his clothes smelled divine.
Once you are done, you toss the towel in the dirty basket in the corner of the room and open the door, walking out into the hallway. Only to trip over Jimin’s body sat distractedly in front of the door and fall straight to the floor in a crumpled heap in his lap. The two of you look at each other for a beat, strangely close, before he shoves you off, sending you rolling.
“Holy shit,” Jimin gasps. “You’re fucking heavy.”
He swats at the invisible dirt on his shoulders and straighten out his pants as he moves to his feet. “You sure took your time.”
You roll your eyes and get up by yourself. What a dick. “Whatever. You said you made lunch. I’m hungry.”
He stares at you for a long moment before he glances away. “Follow me.”
Jimin leads you into the living room and nods to the comfy looking couch. “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog,” you snap but do as you were told.
He snorts and yells from where he had disappeared into the kitchen, “Dogs follow commands much better than you do.”
You bite down on the urge to bark back at him. Instead, you pull your legs up to your chest and glare at the huge TV across from you. The screen was showing a preview for a new romance drama that you had heard about but you had no intention of watching.
Love stories rarely moved you in a positive way. Instead, they filled you with a strange cloying sensation, like being stuck in a hot, sweaty room with barely a sliver of wind. You search for the sweet relief that the wind should give you, but the feeling of overbearing heat persists. In fact, it only gets worse the more you move around. So, you try succumbing to the temperature, but that only makes you feel pathetic.
Looking or not looking at love in motion - either way, you felt suffocated.
Jimin returns and drops down beside you. He nudges your legs so you make space on your lap for the plate in his hands. He says, “I hope you don’t have any allergies.”
You roll your eyes. “It would be a little late if I did.”
He pauses for a moment before he laughs, a little meanly. “You’re right. Eat up.”
He had made dakgangjeongwith a side of yellow rice. It smells fragrant and your stomach gurgles in hunger.
Jimin had already started chowing down but when he notices you hadn’t begun eating, he tosses you a scathing look. “What? It’s not fancy enough for you or something, Princess?”
You roll your eyes. “You gave me a plastic spoon.”
He scoffs. “Should I have given you a pair of chopsticks so you can jab the end into my eye and make a run for it? Not likely. Figure it out.”
You struggle a little with the food, getting the sweet-and-spicy chunks of boneless chicken and rice into your mouth, much to Jimin’s amusement. He lets out odd snorts when bits of meat misses your mouth and falls back into the bowl or into your lap, much to your annoyance. You jab him in his side with your elbow, only one time, sharp and purposeful, and he lets out a gasp of air.
“Fuck, YN,” he whines, rubbing at the sore spot. “What are you, made of metal?”
“Only 69%,” you retort, rolling your eyes. You ask, “Can we change the channel? All this love shit is giving me the creeps.”
Jimin looks your way before he nods. “I don’t like romance stuff either.”
“Why? You had no problem being all lovey-dovey with misery-guts earlier,” you retort. “I thought you’d eat this love crap up.”
“You mean Tae?” Jimin laughs, but the sound is strained. “Nah, that’s just… I don’t know, it’s just that we aren’t together-together.”
You rear your head back for a moment, running each incident of stomach-turning PDA you had witnessed in the very few interactions you had with both men, and you can’t stop yourself from asking, shock evident on your face, “What the fuck does that mean?”
Jimin shrugs, running his tongue across his teeth a few times, contemplative, before he explains, “What Tae and I are can’t really be explained with words. He’s my person, you know? My soulmate. I look at him and I see everything.”
“You love him… But you aren’t ‘together-together’?”
Jimin nods, as if it explained everything.
“Why?”
“Our lifestyle isn’t really conventional,” he explains, a touch shyly. It didn’t suit the other man, who you had only ever viewed as sarcastic and cocky. He seems… soft. “Kookie, Tae and I are… fated. Right now, Tae and I have to stay as we are.”
You take a moment. “Isn’t that painful?”
Jimin looks at you, eyes a fraction wider in surprise. “A bit.”
“You’re being frighteningly honest,” you mutter. “Just date him. What the fuck could go wrong?”
Jimin bites his bottom lip. “There’s a lot we have to do before Tae and I can take that step. We… We just can’t.”
He’s being intentionally vague but you don’t feel like it’s your place to pry. You have your secrets, secrets that you would prefer to take to your grave if given the chance, so you shut your mouth and turn your eyes to the screen, leaving the pink-haired man alone to his rapidly-darkening thoughts.
Some time later
Jimin actually doesn’t leave your side for the whole afternoon. He walks you to the bathroom, to the living room, to the kitchen when you want a glass of water. It feels like you had grown a tumor overnight. If tumors made stupid comments, read comics at a snail’s pace or listened to female rap music a touch too loudly in its headphones.
You don’t even try to escape. The few times you were able to walk past the front door, with Jimin’s grip tight on the inside of your elbow, you noticed the lock there. It was a touchpad lock that required a passcode to leave as well as one to enter. You presumed both were different, but even if they had been the same, you hadn’t gotten a look at the password when you first got brought here because of Jungkook’s looming presence and Taehyung’s unnecessarily broad back.
Moments of absolute frustration flash through you during the few hours you spend lonely but not alone.
You feel bouts of sickening anxiety standing in the long hallway, seeing echoes of memories in the portraits and photographs lining the walls. Happiness is etched onto the faces of your three captors, making the trio seem friendly, approachable - kind, even. But, Jimin poking his head over your shoulder and giving you the backstory of each picture is enough to remind you of your involuntary incarceration and you are brought right back to the realization that these men are capable of more than you can even comprehend.
Barbs of nausea spike through your chest whenever you see a bird pass in front of the high windows, free in a way that you had taken for granted. It brings to mind your history, the one that you have tried so valiantly to forget, to escape, to out-run. The clawed hands of the ghosts of your past reaching out from behind a ragged and beaten door, one that is barely holding onto its hinges. One day, those same hinges were doing to blow apart and crumble into dust before your very eyes. But for now, you can keep those memories at bay and that’s enough.
It has to be enough.
You try to escape to the bathroom whenever this would happen to throw up, closing the door behind you while Jimin waited in the bedroom, pretending to be ignorant of the sickly pallor of your skin and the shallowness of your breathing. The bile in your throat tasted too familiar, waves of sickness crashing over you until you are left shivering. Jimin gives you a cup of green tea after, wordlessly. You don’t want to think of the pity that passes through his eyes that you caught sight of the one time you looked him in the eye.
Jimin texted a lot too. You didn’t have to ask who he was talking to.
Jungkook.
He comes back just before it gets dark.
The sky is cloudy, it had started to rain, and you had made a home in the armchair in front of the window, acceptance finally having settled like a blanket around your shoulders. You hadn’t moved for about an hour, staring listlessly out of the window, watching the people go about their lives.
The sound of the passcode being tapped in followed simultaneously by the scratching of paws catches your attention and Jimin perks up from where he is laying on his back, watching the flame flicker enticingly from the mouth of the intricately-designed lighter in his hand. He seemed to be enthralled by the flame, almost as if he were consumed by it.
“Bam!”
He hops up and opens his arms, only to be attacked by a huge, black dog.
The dog excitedly hops around Jimin, sniffing him all over, tail wagging in happiness. Jimin scrunches the dog’s face, giving him kisses all over the crown of his head, and he giggles.
He looks up from where he is patting Bam’s huge head and he says, “You got him back?”
Taehyung kicks off his shoes and walks into the room, grabbing Bam’s collar and tugging him gently to the kitchen.
“He wanted to come home,” he replies, simply. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence in the house, and while it didn’t piss you off because you wanted to talk to him, you still felt uncomfortable with the ease in which he dismisses you. It isn’t like you wanted to be here either!
Jungkook walks in behind Taehyung, quietly. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his mask still covering the bottom half of his face. He approaches you slowly, and your pulse increases with each step he takes. His eyes are a little wide, as if he were wrestling with a caged animal.
He drops to one of his knees in front of you and says, resting his mask on his chin, “YN… Did you have a good day?”
Jungkook gives you a small smile, gentle, and he reaches for your hand but at the last moment, thinks better of it, dropping his hand and letting it awkwardly rest in his lap.
You stare down at him. “What kind of a day do you think I had, genius?”
His hopeful expression shutters into something guarded. “S-Sorry. I just- I thought staying out would make you feel a bit more… relaxed. It might let you get used to… used to being here without… I don’t know, without feeling suffocated.”
“You thought wrong.”
He flinches. “YN…”
“If you thought you being away would’ve made me feel even an iota better, you would have never come back,” you snarl before shooting to your feet. “Jimin, I’m going to the bathroom.”
Jungkook grabs your wrist, loosely, and says, eyes watery, “YN, I’m trying-”
“Trying to what?” You snap. “Trying to piss me off?”
He sniffles, staring at the floor. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
You slap his hand away and stomp off toward the bedroom, feeling rather than seeing Jimin awkwardly trail behind you. Taehyung and Jimin share a long look, the younger of the two tossing a hard look in your direction that promised retribution of you kept up these brattish antics.
Taehyung got it - he really did.
But Jungkook was like a big kid, and you were breaking his soft heart.
Taehyung watches as Jungkook pulls a small bouquet from his backpack and feels his chest tighten up. He had hidden them there just in case Bam had gotten too excited in the car and crushed them with his tendency to jump on Jungkook’s chest.
The youngest wordlessly hands the pale pink flowers to Taehyung and walks into the kitchen. He swipes at his nose with his sleeve, pulling out a bottle of something clear from the refrigerator, and pops the cap.
“Kookie…”
“Stop, hyung,” he says, after taking a long gulp. His voice sounds like it has been cut with a thousands shards of glass. “It doesn’t matter. Give it to Jimin. You know he likes the color pink.”
Jungkook spends some time sitting on the balcony, right under the jutted out roof, trying like hell to ignore what he knew was going on inside. He contemplates every decision that lead him to the situation he has found himself in - maybe he shouldn’t have ever walked into the library in the first place. Maybe then he wouldn’t know how painful it was to watch your beautiful eyes fill with such a degree of disdain.
Once it started getting too cold, the rain soaking his hoodie and making him shiver, he comes inside. He pulls the hoodie off, tossing it into the corner, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he walks back to his room. YN is curled in the corner of the room, sleeping. You ignored the bed, choosing instead to wrap yourself up in his bedsheets and hide yourself away in the corner. Your hair is poking out from a small hole in the bundle of sheets and the steady rise and fall tells him that you are sleeping.
He showers quickly, leaving the door cracked slightly open because his anxiety wouldn’t let him leave you with an option to leave without him knowing.
Jungkook couldn’t even tell you how pretty you looked, you didn’t give him a chance.
He had run through the conversation a thousand times in the car with Taehyung. What to say to charm you, to compliment you on your smile and your eyes, how not to look at you for too long in case it made you uncomfortable, but somehow within seconds he had ruined it with his stupid mouth and lingering gaze.
A fresh wave of tears silently fall from his eyes, already puffy and sore from all the rubbing. He tries to stop himself from making noise by biting down on his bottom lip and shoving his knuckles into his mouth like he used to when he was a kid to keep the frustrated cries from escaping, but it doesn’t work.
He keeps crying.
And it comes from the core of him. The knowledge that he might never see the corners of your eyes crinkling in that same warm way he remembers from the library. He doesn’t care if it was a composition of all your best parts that you left on display, hiding the shadows of your personality behind a brick wall. He feels robbed of the experience of you.
He’s angry and frustrated and in pain, and it just doesn’t end.
Jungkook tries to ground himself in the moment. He traces his favorite tattoos, he counts to a hundred five times over just to keep himself from screaming and disturbing your slumber. He counts his breaths and snaps bands on his wrist so he doesn’t think about worse things like the molly he stashed in his drawer or the way it makes him feel.
Maybe if you woke up to find him near dead, it might make you feel something other than hatred for him.
The both of you lay on the floor that night, with Jungkook laying on his side in front of the bedroom door and you curled in a protective ball in the corner.
It wouldn’t be possible for you to leave without stepping over his body and he was a light sleeper, even without the anxiety coursing through his veins. Still, he doesn’t get a wink of rest that entire night, every time he thinks he can relax enough to actually drift off, his body jerks and he’s back to being hyper-alert again.
Jungkook counts his fingers, he taps out rhythms on his upper-thighs, he paces quietly, peeking at you every once in a while to make sure you were still breathing - some hideous part of him worrying that you might try to escape him in death.
He would follow you, you know. He knows he would.
He even brings Bam into the room so the dog can sleep on his legs, knowing that he has always found solace in Jungkook since he was a puppy.
He pats his dog’s head and hums out the bare bones of a song that is forming in his head, the melancholy and anguish that has built up in his spine finally easing as his fingers tap out a perfect rhythm on his toned thighs, wishing, instead, that he could be laying beside you, holding you tightly instead of simply watching you, obsessively, from across the room.
