➬ 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!
➬ 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
➥ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; mentions of alcohol consumptions/hangover, implied/depiction of a one-night-stand, possible infidelity, implied smut, sexual tension.
Jungkook can sense it even before he opens his eyes. Even the fog that seems to fill the crevices in his head can do nothing to stop him from noticing how foreign everything around him feels.
The warmth enveloping him.
The soft touch of sheets under his palms.
The thick, plushy pillows where his head seems to be resting on.
The feminine scent of perfume that seems to be wafting through the air around him, gently breezing past him like delicate hands teasing on his skin.
As he slowly finds the strength to open his eyes and force himself to wake up, Jungkook’s eyes flutter open to the warm morning sun greeting him from the open windows. As he stretches out his sore limbs, little by little, the remaining haze of his sleep is lifted, and he stops moving as he is immediately met with an astounding sight of his surroundings. His eyes grow wide the moment he realises that he has indeed fallen asleep in a completely different bedroom, lying on a different bed, with windows on the opposite side of the walls that are nearly twice as big as the ones that he has been looking out of since he had gotten on this island. He looks around, and everything that he is seeing officially confirms that he had not been sleeping in Yugyeom’s room.
His heartbeat begins to race in a state of panic, not knowing where he is. And while he rarely ever had any experience of waking up with a hangover or having any piece of his memory missing after spending the night out drinking, Jungkook quickly finds that he has no clear idea of what had truly happened last night. The last thing he remembers is sitting at the bar with Tasha, the one person he would have never expected to meet in such a place.
They haven’t met each other even once after their first and last encounter at Bovine months ago, yet it certainly felt as if they had been old friends the moment they started to talk to each other. Last night, they spent hours sharing drinks, exchanging stories, and laughing at the things they found astounding from any topic that they brought up while admiring the serenity that they found from spilling their thoughts about the universe and the lives of all human beings who are living in it.
Sitting up on the bed, Jungkook finds himself still wearing last night’s clothes. The faint headache that has come up when he was trying to move easily fades as he leans back against the headrest, though he still feels as if his entire energy has been depleted after all that drinking last night that he refuses to make any other move despite the urge to investigate further to find out where he is.
Letting his head fall back, he closes his eyes, trying to regain his memory and figure out just how he had gotten here. It is then when he hears someone knocking at the door. He barely has the chance to open his eyes or to even respond when the door opens and the slow movement happening at the door catches his attention.
“Knock, knock.”
Jungkook quickly turns to the doorway, blinking rapidly when he finds Tasha standing there while leaning against the door frame. Wearing simple clothing—a plain white T-shirt over a pair of pastel-coloured leggings, which is a complete contrast to the dress that she had worn last night—she looks refreshed, ready to start the day. And she also looks completely unaffected by the drinks that she had last night.
Jungkook’s eyes fall on her exposed wrist. The sight of the purple hydrangea tattoo appearing on her skin reminds him of the conversation that they both had last night. His eyes are still on her wrist when she raises her hand, lifting the mug that she has been carrying with her to cover the bright smile showing on her face. Her eyes seem to glint under the sunlight, clearly looking amused at what she is seeing, and her eyebrows are raised as she watches Jungkook silently trying to piece everything together. The frown he is wearing on his face clearly shows just how much he is struggling to do so.
“Wake up, sleepyhead. Don’t you even think about going back to sleep now,” Tasha greets him, finally snapping him out of it.
“What—” Jungkook straightens up further and glances around. “What happened last night? Is this your place? How did I get here?”
Instead of answering him, Tasha merely smiles at him. “Why don’t you freshen up first and then we’ll talk over breakfast? Or coffee? Do you drink coffee?” Jungkook absently nods while still looking like a lost puppy, so Tasha simply continues to talk. “Go take a shower. The bathroom is over there,” she says, pointing at the door on the other side of the room which seems to be leading to the ensuite bathroom. “I’ll have everything ready and have someone fetch you some fresh clothes to change into once you’re done.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to respond, but misses his chance to say anything when Tasha has already slipped away from the door when he turns to find her again. Deciding that he wouldn’t be getting any answers by staying put on the bed that feels almost too comfortable for him to lie on, he rushes towards the bathroom to freshen up, taking his time with it until he can finally find some clarity.
Even if he still can’t remember a few things from last night which had led him to end up in Tasha’s place. And in her bed, nonetheless.
He finds the clothes just as promised when he finally steps out of the bathroom, all prepared for him on the bed. The dark-coloured shirt and pants seem to fit him suspiciously well, but he chooses not to think much about it as he walks out of the bedroom. On his way to find Tasha, Jungkook looks around and soon finds that he is in a loft that looks like a part of the resort where he had been spending his night, judging from the familiar view of the beach and the ocean that he can see through the windows. He follows the scent of brewing coffee to find Tasha getting busy in the kitchen, surprising him as he sees her cooking on the stove herself instead of having her staff do it for her.
“Go take a seat. I’ll be ready in a minute,” she calls out to him while moving fluently around the kitchen, fetching him the coffee that she had made like a pro. “I have no idea what kind of coffee you’re into so I made a light one. I’ve put some extra cream on the side if you want some more.”
Jungkook takes the mug filled with coffee and turns away, deciding to take a look around rather than sitting idly by as he feels too restless to do so when he has a ton of questions running inside his head. He finds the living room looking homey and comfortable, a sign that she has been using this place quite often as her personal living space. He walks past the large-sized television hanging on one wall before stopping in front of a drawer nearby where he finds a few framed pictures being placed on display.
Looking at them makes his chest grow tight. He sucks a deep breath to ease the pain, though it seems too hard for him to do so when he only remembers how this setup reminds him too much of what he has back home—how you have decorated his living room in a similar way, with a low drawer full of trinkets holding various framed pictures on top that documented his entire life together with you.
Shaking his head, Jungkook focuses back on the pictures in front of him and starts to look closer into them. Most of them seem to have been taken while Tasha was travelling to different places as they are showing Tasha posing in various locations—either somewhere in South Korea or abroad—while some others are showing images of her with her family and friends. Then he stops as he finds a wedding photo placed near the center. The picture is showing a man wearing his wedding suit while smiling broadly with his arm wrapped around a younger woman who appears to be his bride pressed onto his left side. On his right, held under his other arm is Tasha, who is smiling warmly into the frame while she keeps her hand on the man’s chest as she stands politely close to him.
“Is this your family? I don’t recall you ever telling me that you have a brother,” he starts asking before he can stop himself. For a moment, he gets nothing but silence, until Tasha’s voice comes startling him once she has moved to stand next to him.
“That’s because I don’t. I’m an only child,” she says.
“Then, who are these people?”
Reaching out to pick up the photo, Tasha releases a soft sigh. “Oh, he’s my soulmate. But he’s married to someone else,” she easily says to him, catching him by surprise that he snaps his head to look at her with wide eyes, only to see her smiling back. “That’s his wife on his left. The photo was taken on their wedding day.”
Seeing that Jungkook is left too stunned to speak, Tasha softly laughs and places the framed photo back in its previous place before wrapping her hands around his arm to pull him away. “You’re in shock. I get it. Why don’t we sit down, have some breakfast and coffee so we can get rid of that hangover of yours while we talk? I’ll tell you everything about them.”
“You’re being too quiet.”
Jungkook looks up from his second cup of coffee—light, a bit sweeter and with extra cream, just like how she had suggested for him to take since she only makes strong ones—and returns Tasha’s gaze.
“You can probably see that I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything,” he says to her after a beat of silence and once he realises that he had barely touched his meal despite feeling the hunger ever since he woke up earlier. With a sigh, Jungkook decides to be honest and share what he has been thinking. “I have so many questions that I don’t know just where to start.”
Tasha nods and places her own mug of coffee down on the table. “Well, I can begin by telling you that nothing happened between us after we finished our last drink. You were drunk, not to the point that you blacked out because of it, but enough to make it hard for me to drag you home. I had Hyuk, the bartender, helping me to carry you out of the place safely, but then you refused to go home. You kept telling me that your friend wouldn’t be home and you refused to tell me his address, so I figured it would have been easier for me to drag you here instead since we’re only a few floors down.”
Jungkook has suspected this but still grimaces as he imagines the chaos that he had created. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.”
Tasha waves her hand. “Oh, it’s fine. I already got something good out of it, at least. Consider us even,” she says to him with a wink and an elated smile taking over her face, while Jungkook’s face feels warm when he remembers seeing the aforementioned bartender from last night walking out of another bedroom merely moments before Jungkook sat down at the dining table. The man looked freshly showered and was refusing to join breakfast, saying that he needed to get back to work before his boss would scold him for slacking off. Though the man didn’t leave before kissing Tasha right on the lips one last time and promising to return for the night once he is off the clock and if she ever needs his company.
Jungkook has no idea how to feel about knowing that his new female friend was having a fling coming by while he was passed out right next door. But the bartender didn’t seem to mind it, nor did he seem to care about Jungkook’s presence in the room at all, and Tasha did apologise for taking the chance to have fun while he was out of it. At least the revelation had allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief, as it had confirmed everything that Tasha had just told him, that he truly hadn’t done anything stupid while he was crazy drunk.
Jungkook turns his gaze around the room to find the photo that he had found earlier, placed right at the spot where it would be visible even from the distance. “You and your soulmate—” he begins to question her. “What happened between you?”
Tasha raises her pretty eyebrows before her eyes find the very same photo that had caught Jungkook’s attention. A deep sigh slips out of her, though there is nothing more but affection and longing in her eyes when she thinks about the past. “I met Wooyoung in freshman year. He’s much older than I am and was already graduating then. We met during a joint event held between the university that I was studying in and the neighbouring university he was still enrolled in. It was a huge shock for us both when we met, to say the least, one that I had expected, with my timer running out before I stumbled into his path. I don’t really think either of us had been fully prepared for it either, so neither of us knew how to react. And then I found out that he had fallen in love with his childhood best friend who was also present at the time. They had been dating for years already.”
Tasha stops for a moment, taking a deep breath as she recalls the past. There is a faraway look in her eyes. Though, to Jungkook’s surprise, she looks more amused than hurt as she remembers what happened.
“Things were rough right after. Wooyoung and I tried to work things out and figure out how to handle things. You have probably guessed it, but the soulmate bond came to us so strong that it was hard for us to ignore it. But then, soon enough, we both realised that the only reason we were both attracted to each other was onlybecause of the soulmate bond while his first love would always remain to have a special place in his heart,” she slowly adds, smiling softly as the memory returns to her. “We sat down together after we figured it out—the three of us—and had a long talk about our future. They told me about her soulmate, how she had found out on her eighteenth birthday that she had lost him before ever meeting him the moment she saw that her mark appeared immediately after her timer ran out and once the cursive letter showed up on her skin, writing in red ink—”
Jungkook flinches and starts to brush his fingers absentmindedly on his own wrist as he remembers his own experience with his soulmate mark. He still remembers that morning as if it had only happened a short while ago. How he witnessed the numbers appearing on his skin, how his breath stilled when he saw how fast the timer had counted down to zero, and how the purple petals bloomed right after, before his soulmate’s initials began to write themselves in red cursive letters. He clenches his hands when he imagines that traumatic event happening to someone else. Someone like the bride in the photo that Tasha has kept between the other memorabilia gracing her home, who he had seen smiling so prettily and kindly to the camera with her eyes glowing in unshed tears of happiness.
When he looks up again, he finds Tasha staring back at him with a knowing look in her eyes, as if she knows exactly where his mind has been wandering to. “Yes, just like yours,” she whispers, nodding at his wrist. “At first, Wooyoung only wanted to stay beside her to support her, to help her deal with her heartbreak and help her get through until she could learn to love someone else. But love bloomed between them during that time. Before they even knew it, they were slowly building their future together. Until the day I came barrelling into their lives. Literally.”
Tasha softly laughs as she describes how she had crossed Wooyoung’s path at the campus festival, how she had tripped and nearly fall before he caught her, the perfect portrayal of how she came into their lives without any warning. Jungkook smiles as he listens to her story before a frown comes to his face. “It must have been rough on you to witness that.”
Smiling softly at him, Tasha simply lifts her shoulders. “It was, at first. But I got over it when I saw how much they were completely in love with each other,” she says, surprising Jungkook further when he sees the deep love in her eyes as she talks about her soulmate and his wife together. “There was never a place for me in their lives, other than what I’ve earned for helping them.”
“I don’t understand,” Jungkook murmurs, tilting his head.
With a sly grin on her face, Tasha leans closer to whisper as if she is sharing a big secret and someone else would be listening in. “You see, I helped them get married,” she says, and her grin grows wider as Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock. “They wanted to elope when their families were against them getting together. Especially when Wooyoung’s family found out by chance that I was his actual soulmate. So I pretended to steal him away from his lover, when in reality, I was flying them both off to one of the resorts that my Dad’s company was partnered with in Fiji so they could get married there. Of course, I had to come with them as an alibi for my absence and to act as their witness.”
“Why?” Jungkook gasps. “Why would you do that?” he questions her, though deep down, he can already guess what her reasoning might be.
Tasha leans back with a low chuckle. “I already told you once, didn’t I? I’m a sucker for romance. I love the whole idea of love, and to the idea of shoving your middle finger to the universe to show them that they are not always right and they don’t always get to decide who we fall in love with,” she says, laughing softly as if she is picturing herself doing it, to put her hand up and show her middle finger to the sky and to the universe that had tried to play around with her fate. “It also helped that Wooyoung was a complete stranger to me at the time and the bond only made me look at him more like an older brother than a possible lover once we got close to each other.”
Jungkook falls silent for a moment. “What did your family think? Your father?”
As he mentions her father, Tasha releases a deep sigh. “My Dad was a tough one to crack, but he was the first person to understand. I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl, being the only child he had ever gotten from his marriage with my Mom. He had wanted to have a son for a long time, but had initially come to love me just the same. As I was his only baby, he did get worried, at first. But I managed to convince him that it was my choice, and by choosing to help the one I was intended to be with to be together with the love of his life, I had somehow proven to him that I was someone who knew my priorities well and that I would know how to take care of the people I came to care about. Just exactly the kind of person he needed to inherit his entire business empire.”
Tasha smiles to herself as she recalls the events happening then, when she remembers how she had defied her own family. “He gave in after I promised that I would make it up by working my ass off to help him with the family business and to never shut away from any possibilities of finding my own life partner who would be good to me in the future once I’m ready for it.”
Once again, Jungkook is silent as he slowly lets everything that Tasha had just shared with him to sink in. Slowly sipping on his coffee, he begins to compare Tasha’s past to his current life. “Is that why you’ve been helping me? The reason why you took me home? Have you been planning to tell me all of this all along?”
Tasha smiles at him. “I took you home because it was what friends do to make sure the person they’re with is safe for the night. But yes, I did have a purpose for taking you with me and I have a reason for telling you all of this. I just want you to see that there is always another way. Another path to choose. We always have that choice, no matter what the world is making us believe when it comes to the silly soulmate system. It’s only a matter of whether or not we are brave enough to take it,” she slowly explains, before leaning closer once again. “I know what you’re doing. You’re giving them space to figure things out, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here instead of staying back there with her while she’s figuring things out.”
Swallowing hard, Jungkook admits how on point her words are and he can only nod to answer, earning a warm, knowing look from Tasha before she explains further, “That’s exactly what Wooyoung’s wife did for us too. She took a step back after she found out that I was his true soulmate, giving him the chance to embrace the universe’s gift—her own words.” Tasha lifts her hands and makes a gesture to depict quotation marks while laughing.
”But, instead of pushing us to be together, the time we had spent together had only helped open our eyes to see just how deep the love that they had truly was when he couldn’t find himself feeling the same deep love for me as what he had already felt for her.”
Leaning back, Jungkook takes a deep breath while taking it all in. Once again, he compares his own situation with hers, placing himself in the shoes of Wooyoung’s wife and thinking back to the reason why he is hiding all the way in Jeju, realising that he is doing the same thing as she did while you are experiencing what Tasha had gone through in the past. He was sure that taking himself out of the equation would help you figure things out and decide what would be best for you without him getting in the way. Except he is no longer sure if staying away for this long had been the best decision for himself and for everyone involved, when no matter how much he had wanted to make sure that you would be able to find your happiness, there is also a bigger part inside him that still insists to fight for you, to believe the words that you had told him about proving just how strong the bond between the two of you would be compared to what the universe keeps forcing on you.
If he wants to be honest, he has been feeling this way for quite a while. Maybe even since day one, when he was standing in Yugyeom’s studio apartment and feeling out of place and lost without you. But he just kept refusing to admit it, denying what his heart had wanted, all because he had also known that he wouldn’t be able to take his words and actions back after what he had done to you on the day he left.
Shaking his head, he accepts his fault for making such rash decisions and he regrets ever ignoring the voice inside his head that had kept telling him to stay and fight with you. Drawing a deep breath, he looks at Tasha and questions her, “How are you so open to this? How can you be so—”
“Amenable? Flexible? Carefree? Wild?” Tasha begins to fill in when he is unable to find the right word to describe her and her actions.
Jungkook grins. “Bold. Forward-thinking. And yes, easygoing, and also for being so open-minded and daring, even when it comes to believing in something that no other people had the courage to put their faith into.”
Tasha laughs softly before looking at him with a sharp look in her gaze. “Because I believe that there are far more important things out there beyond the silly soulmate system that had been created for us,” Tasha says as she pours more coffee into her empty mug, then does the same to fill Jungkook’s while she keeps talking. “It’s not like I don’t truly respect the soulmate system. But, I mean—sure, it sounds promising and completely hard to resist to have the entire universe making sure that we won’t have any problem finding someone to build our entire lives with. It truly is a gift that fates have it in them to make sure that we wouldn’t be alone in this world. It sounds like the perfect way to live knowing that there is someone out there made for us to love and to have our happiness written down for us since we were born into this world, don’t you think?”
“But—?”
“But—” Tasha grins. “Would it really be better and more real compared to the kind of love that we find for ourselves, the one that we would be willing to sacrifice everything for? If the universe can have a choice to play around with our fate—” she stops to give a pointed look on Jungkook’s wrist before continuing, “—then why can’t we have our choice to decide who to fall in love with?”
Jungkook blinks rapidly. All of a sudden, his chest feels tight and heavy when her words seem to strike him deep in his chest.
Because she is right.
And he feels like a fool for forgetting the fact that he had once believed the same thing as well.
All this time, he had always known that he has everything that anyone could have asked for and that he had found it with you. The kind of love that runs so deep that he feels his chest flutter each time he thinks about you. The love that has grown so deep that it becomes the reason why his heart is still beating at this very moment and why he has been hurting ever since the day he walked away. At first, he had truly believed that it would be best for him to step aside, just so you could embrace the gift that the universe is giving you. The gift that he had lost.
But walking away had only made him feel the pain that he has never felt before. Being away from you had only been complete torture. It makes him feel like he is dying inside, how the distance has slowly been chopping up his soul, taking it piece by broken piece that he no longer knows if he would have anything left of himself once the whole ordeal is over.
Once again, as if knowing where his mind is wandering off to, Tasha reaches out to grab his hand and gently says, “What you have with your girlfriend is real. Never doubt that part. I saw it with my own two eyes and I know exactly what I saw then when you were together. Why did you think I made all the effort of helping you with your surprise proposal if not because I believed in the love you had for each other?”
Shaking his head, Jungkook chuckles softly. “You’re right. You really did help me—a lot. And you didn’t even know what my situation was like back then, did you?”
Letting his hand go, she shrugs lightly and confesses, “I may not have seen it back then to know that you were not each other’s true soulmate, but I could sense something special going on between you. Something that was stronger than the soulmate connection that the entire world has been selling us. Call it a hunch from someone who had been there once.”
Jungkook bites his lips as he takes his time to think things over, before curiosity gets the best of him when he wonders how Tasha could be so strong and brave while he has been feeling so powerless against his own ordeal. “Have you ever felt—afraid, for defying fate? You’ve fought against them when you let your soulmate go so he could be with the one he loves, and now you’re trying to help me be together with the only person I’ve ever loved.”
With a light chuckle, Tasha gently shakes her head. “Have I been afraid of doing something so out of the ordinary and to defy the force that would be strong enough to ruin our entire lives under its will? Absolutely,” she admits to him before giving him a smug grin. “But it’s still not enough to make me stop doing it. I’ve always loved watching people chase the love that they choose, to fight for their happiness and get what they deserve. If I have the will and power to do something to help make it happen, I would do so with everything I have, knowing that it makes me feel happy by helping others feel the same thing. It gives me a sense of freedom that could heal my soul. And if that means that I’d be forever fighting against Fate to allow myself to feel this way, then I’ll do it over and over again.”
Jungkook looks down as he thinks deeply about her words, silently wondering if he would ever be able to be just as strong as she does. For the first time, after the day he came to find out that Namjoon was your soulmate, crushing every hope he had ever kept in his mind about having you in his life, he begins to find that missing sparks of hope blooming in his chest. Suddenly, the good faith that he had about his love for you returns full force after he had kept it dormant for the sake of giving you the chance to have what you had once wanted.
Now that the feeling has come back to him, the determination to fight against the universe and to get you back grows stronger. Though it doesn’t stop him from questioning himself—
Can he actually do it?
He keeps asking himself this as he thinks about fighting for his love and rebuilding the life that he has with you once again, no matter what it would cost him. But then he remembers how he had walked out and stepped away from you when you had insisted to make him stay so that you could fight alongside him to prove your love. He thinks about the past week that he was gone, knowing that the soulmate bond would have pulled you to Namjoon in his absence, leaving him to wonder—
Would it be too late for him to return home now and claim you back?
That same morning, you wake up in the same guest bedroom that you have been staying in, feeling so tired and broken.
You had kept the room dark, choosing to keep the lights off and keeping the curtains closed even when the dawn has long broken and the warm sunlight is forcing itself to come in. You cannot remember when you had fallen asleep, as you had found it hard to do so with your mind wandering all over the place while waves of emotions kept rushing through you all night to make you feel restless. The mixture of guilt, sadness, and hope, all collided into one before they all turned into despair before you were finally dragged into the darkness of your slumber only in your exhaustion.
Whatever glint of hope that you felt last night after receiving the call from Jungkook’s brother has now been replaced by self-condemnation and trepidation which keep intensifying each time the events from last night return to you. With a long exhale of sigh, you close your eyes, letting the memory replay itself in your head despite your wish to erase them and forget that they ever happened at all.
“It’s okay. Just give in. I’ll be here to hold you.”
Those were the words that Namjoon had whispered to you after he laid you down on his bed. It was obvious that he could see your fear when you were second-guessing yourself and while you were still trying to make sense of what was going on, and it was clear that he had noticed it as well when the bond between you took its form, as it gave its final effort of putting you both together.
But it was you who had pulled him down to you, and you had been the one giving him the kiss that should have sealed the deal.
You had come so close, just a step away from cementing your bond for eternity and severing the bond that you had built in your old life. You had already crossed the line merely seconds before, the remaining waves of your pleasure were still surging through you to remind you of it and your body was still calling for him. Yet, the moment you took in his scent, breathing in the warmth that was engulfing you in his embrace, something else inside you was shifting, and it was slowly winning, taking control to pull you out of the blinding haze.
And just then, the moment you closed your eyes, you realised that it was not his face that came into your mind. It wasn’t his voice nor his touch that your soul was searching for, and it snapped something inside you which slowly took away the fog that had clouded your sanity.
“Let it in. Let me in, baby. I know that deep down, you already know that this is so right.”
Those were the words that had compelled you into giving in to the bond and the sparks that had been building up between you all night. But right at that moment, as your soul began to cry out for another and started breaking apart inside you, everything about it felt so wrong.
With a sharp gasp, you gently pushed him away, breaking the kiss before it could have the chance to go further. Your heartbeat was still pacing rapidly in your chest, though each thrum was meant for a different reason, and the ache that came barrelling over you had nothing to do with him nor his presence. You had refused to open your eyes just then, unwilling to see the pain of your rejection reflecting in his eyes, something that you had no doubt would find after giving him such hope with what you had allowed to transpire.
And you simply refused to see reality, to know that the person holding you was not the one who you had truly wanted to be there and to have your heart broken once again knowing that he was not there.
But then a gentle brush of a finger on your cheek urged you to open your eyes, and you were surprised that instead of looking at you with disappointment and rage, Namjoon was staring at you with a warm, knowing smile plastered on his gorgeous face. It had taken you a moment and another wipe of his fingers on your face to realise that you had been crying, and that had been the reason he knew what was going on.
That your heart and soul had finally found their resolve to fight against the invisible force that had been taking control over you, and not even the soulmate bond could drown what your heart had truly desired.
And the one that your heart had been calling for was not him.
“I’m so sorry,” you had pleaded with him once reality hit you until your chest grew so tight you could barely breathe. You felt mortified, lost, and disgusted with yourself for allowing things to continue, and for ever giving him hope. And for coming so close to doing something more to severe what you had been trying to protect.
“Sshh—” Namjoon whispered to you, and you blinked your eyes to find him still smiling warmly, his gaze still filled with an understanding look instead of despair or disgust. “It’s okay, baby. I know.”
His gentle words had only made you cry louder, sending you into a sobbing mess as you fell apart beneath him. “I want him back.”
With a sigh, Namjoon continued to brush away your tears. “I know, baby. And he will come back to you. Even if he won’t, I’ll be the one dragging his ass back for making you cry every single night that he was gone.”
“This is—” you choked between your sobs and in the realisation that he had known how often you had cried yourself to sleep for missing Jungkook. You looked away from him, blinking away your tears so that you would be able to speak to him more clearly. Realising how vulnerable and exposed you were the moment the blissful fog faded from your mind, you pulled back and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to cover your body from his eyes. “This shouldn’t have happened. None of this. I’m so sorry for allowing this to—”
“It had to happen,” Namjoon said, tipping your chin up just when you tried to hide from him. He made you look into his eyes, to be able to see that the same fog that had muddled his conscience had also faded from him and that he was able to think more logically now so he could calm you down. “We have both been focusing on the bond—with me who was feeling it for the first time and with you who kept fighting it—until it became the only thing we both felt above everything else. We had to let it happen so that we could open our eyes and see beyond that pull once it fades.”
Despite knowing that his words had been right, the way he said it to you still drew a bitter chuckle to come out of you. “Are you going to talk me out into believing that this was just one of those ‘getting it out of our system’ moments?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Namjoon gave you a sad smile before shrugging. “Maybe a little, but more like—” he stopped with a sigh, then reached out to grab a blanket from the other side of the bed which he then used to cover your bareness, wrapping it tightly around your body as if he wanted to keep your warm while protecting you from his roaming gaze. And he did it while he kept on talking, “—allowing yourself to see what your heart is asking for instead of what your body and mind is telling you to do.”
Keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around you, you kept your eyes low as Namjoon shifted away to find his pants and started putting them back on. “I’m so confused,” you whispered weakly to yourself, though it didn’t stop Namjoon from hearing them.
Lying beside you, Namjoon pulled you up until you were resting on his pillows, tucked nicely right next to him where he made you feel safe. “It’s okay to be confused. I know that you are. Honestly, I am too,” he gently said to you with a reassuring smile, one that didn’t truly reach his eyes. “But we’ll figure it out in the morning. I don’t think it would be wise to try and solve everything tonight, after what had just happened.”
You had taken that moment to ponder over his words, to wonder if you could truly believe everything that he was telling you. There was hope for a change simmering within you. Hope for a chance to reclaim the life that you had with the man that you truly loved. And yet the feeling fell short when you remembered how powerless you had been to stop things from carrying on, and how you had put yourself in this position despite your determination to wait for Jungkook’s return.
Namjoon must have felt your worries when he gently pulled you to him. His touch bared no lust when he held you to him, and his smile only offered to give you comfort as he laid down next to you, staying close to offer you his warmth and his company while you were shivering in your uncertainty.
“Stay with me tonight. I promised to hold you, didn’t I? Let me take care of you, _______,”
For the last time.
Those were the words that had been left unspoken, the words that had only made you feel even more guilty, knowing that you had been the one to cause the pain reflecting in his eyes when he pulled you into his arms for one last time, only to keep you safe in his hold until he was supposed to let you go.
Your chest still feels heavy when you take a look around the room. You try to ignore the feeling, however, and focus on making sure that you have everything packed with you and that you wouldn’t be leaving anything behind as you make your leave.
Once you are sure that you are completely ready to step away from this room once and for all, holding your travel bag in one hand and your purse in the other, you realise that you have never felt more resolved than ever, when you finally know what to do next.
Just a week ago, you had walked into this penthouse while feeling lost, dazed and confused from having two strong forces pulling you in two different directions. If only you had known then where to look, perhaps you wouldn’t have found your way here and things might have ended differently.
Much, much different than how things have turned out to be so far.
But you also know that you might have ended up living without knowing the answers to a lot of questions, haunted by the need to wonder about all the what-ifs and what could have been without ever knowing the truth. Without truly knowing what your soul has been searching for.
“You’re ready to leave?”
Namjoon appears in your path just as you walk out the door of your former bedroom. Looking just as weary as you are, he stares at you silently, not looking too shocked to see you packed and ready to go. His eyes fall on the bag you are carrying and his gaze softens for realising what is currently happening.
“I think it’s time. I’ve overstayed my welcome,” is the only thing you can say to him. You look at him a while longer, even if you have no clear idea what you are trying to find. To your reprieve, the pain that you had briefly seen in his eyes last night is no longer present, though you can also feel him putting up a wall when he straightens his shoulders and pushes his hands into his pocket.
Namjoon lowers his head as he smiles, and it is then when you can see a glimpse of remorse and pain flickering on his face, though you see no trace of them when he looks up at you again, all of his emotions are masked underneath the warm smile that he is giving you. Taking a deep inhale of breath, you realise how much it pains you to know that he is hiding his true feelings from you. The fact that he is masking his pain for your sake feels so wrong, but you also know that there is nothing that you can do about it. Not anymore, as you have made your choice and it had been some of the choices that you had made which had put the invisible strain that he is carrying and fighting so hard to hide. Once again, your guilt pinches at your heart, and you want nothing more than to fix things for him.
If only you know how to do it without sacrificing your soul.
Knowing that you no longer have the right to mess with his emotions, you do the only next best thing you know what to do.
“For what it’s worth, I did enjoy my time here with you and I’m grateful that we had a chance to see things clearly before moving on. I guess this way, at least, we’ll be leaving no place for all the questions and the what-ifs,” you calmly say to him, silently hoping that your words will not only be holding some truth in them for yous, but for him as well.
For years, despite thinking and believing that you had somehow moved on from his rejection, you have always known that deep down, you still had questions about what had happened. There had been times when you were up at night wondering about all the possibilities that had come from all the unknowing, while having no answers to help you find some peace in your heart to could actually heal you from your heartbreak.
You only realise now that have never once had the chance to find closure after his past rejection. Until now.
“Thank you for opening your doors for me and for allowing me to stay here. It’s been—” you softly laugh as you try to think of the perfect way to truly illustrate what you feel. “—quite a ride,” you finally say with a low chuckle, and you are pleased that it draws a smile from him too. With a sigh, you carefully add, “But I certainly won’t forget everything that we have shared for the past week, how much you have helped me and the friendship that we have built together. Thank you for your patience and for being so kind to me despite everything.”
Nodding his head, Namjoon seems to come to terms with the situation. Because the moment you find his gaze again, there is a glimpse of relief showing from his eyes. “You know that you’ll always be welcome here. My door will always be open for you whenever you need a place to run to,” he says with a smile, before quickly adding while jokingly, “But I truly hope that you won’t be needing it again so soon.”
Both of you smile and laugh at what he just said, and then his expression changes when he asks you, “I take it you’ve found out where he is?”
“Yes, his brother called me. He’s trying to see if he can help me get to Jungkook,” you reveal to him with a sigh, and you suddenly feel your chest grow tight as you recall the phone call that you had last night with Jungkook’s brother, how he had told you that a friend of his had informed him that she had met Jungkook and was watching over him for the time being.
The call had left you feeling restless, when your relief of finally getting some news of Jungkook’s whereabouts was trampled by your guilt. Though it didn’t stop you from feeling determined to get to him as fast as you can once you had slept on your raw emotions and after you woke up with a clear mind. You still have no idea how Jungkook would react if he ever finds out what you had done with Namjoon, but you would do everything to earn another chance to win him back, and you would do anything to be with the man that you love. You are even ready to spend your entire life making it up to him, as long as he gives you the chance to.
“I can help you with that. Just say the word,” Namjoon offers you, and it almost makes you laugh at the bitter fact that despite the disappointment that he must have been feeling because of you, Namjoon still wants to give a hand to help. Knowing him, there is no doubt that he is genuine with his offer.
With a wry smile, you shake your head. “You’ve done a lot for me already. But thanks for the offer,” you tell him then, looking straight into his eyes right after as you say to him, “I hope everything will go well with you in the future.”
Sighing in defeat, Namjoon gives you a smile and nods. “And for you too.”
Nodding at him, you give him one last smile before walking around him to make your way to the front door. You try your best not to tense up and to keep your chin up as you walk past him, but then he turns and calls your name gently when you are merely a few steps away from the door, his voice stopping you in your tracks.
“Would it have been possible for us to be together back then without feeling like crap?” he suddenly asks you before you even turn around to see what he is up to. Once you look over your shoulder, Namjoon lifts his shoulder in a simple shrug.
“I’m only asking before that’s what I’m feeling right now. It feels like crap because it made me happy that you were here, that I had a chance to spend time with you, to get to know you better, and for me to—” he stops and swallows hard, taking his time to find his words as he looks at you. “I loved being with you, and I know now that we would’ve been good together. But it makes me feel bad that we would have to sacrifice someone else to do so, if we ever choose to go down that route. But I also can’t help to wonder if things would have been the same as what we had this past week if I hadn’t acted like a coward and we had gotten together the way we were supposed to.”
Turning in your heels to get a better look at him, you can only shake your head. “I honestly have no good answer for that since I don’t know what would have happened if things had gone differently between us,” you regretful tell him then, stopping a moment to ponder the thought before speaking again.
“But, you know what? We could have. Maybe we would have fallen madly in love with each other once we gave each other a chance, or maybe we would have grown apart because we haven’t become the people we were meant to be if we had met then,” you say to him with a smile. “And yes, we would have been perfect for each other to the point that we’d make everyone else around us sick at how perfect we are together. But then again, sometimes things just don’t work that way. Not even if the universe had designed it to be.”
You turn to face him completely. If you are going to be absolutely honest with him, then perhaps it would be best to give him the honest truth, giving both of you the final closure that you have both needed to have for years. “That night, when I saw you in that room, I immediately fell for you so hard that it felt like my heart was trampled into pieces for believing that you wouldn’t be mine.”
Your confession seems to surprise him. Namjoon’s eyes grow wide for a brief moment before he smiles and nods at you. “I guess that’s the answer to everything,” he says, confusing you further when he suddenly seems like he has found his own resolve.
“What do you mean?”
When your gaze meets his once again, you find nothing more but clarity glowing in his eyes. “You loved me. You might even still love me now,” he says, giving you the kind of smile that no longer carries his remorse or the pain of having to let go of a huge part of his life that had been written for him. The only thing he shows you when he looks at you is relief, a sense of contentment and acceptance when he says, “But you are not in love with me.”
You flinch a little at this, and he must have caught it, because he immediately adds before you can speak in return, “And that is okay, because what you have is bigger than what we would have ever had since it is something that you have chosen for yourself, not something that had been chosen for you. You and I both know that you have always deserved to have more than that.”
Keeping your eyes on him, you know without any further explanation that he was talking about the soulmate bond, how he can see that you can have something more, just as long as you reach out for it.
For some reason, his words give you comfort. And then your mind wanders briefly to the past, to the younger version of his who had once held so much confidence and belief that he would be more superior than the soulmate bond and whatever fate was planning for him. “You said so then too, remember?” you question him while picturing the image of him standing in the kitchen area in some random fraternity house that you had never once walked into, drunkenly talking about his big dreams in front of his friends and his pretty girlfriend. “Somewhere between your words of rejection and your defiance against the soulmate bond, you had believed in it too. You had said then, in your own words, that there had to be something else beyond this soulmate system that had been designed for us. Something bigger, stronger, and perhaps it would matter more than what the universe wants us to find.”
There is a glint of something new in his eyes—is it pride? Acknowledgement? Or perhaps an understanding that he shares the same idea—when he nods. “And you have found it,” he says with a calm voice.
“I’m sorry,” you start to apologise, only to have him shaking his head.
“You don’t apologise for love,” he says, once again sighing in defeat, before he lifts his chin up. “I do, apologise, however, for not being worthy enough to hold on to you and to fight for us.”
You smile at him. “You are worthy, Namjoon,” you gently tell him.
And you mean it.
But you have given your heart and soul to another, and you are willing to fight to be with that person to the very end of your long journey.
Mr Choi-PA: Mr. Jeon has departed. We got him on the last flight of the day departing for Seoul
Tasha: Good. Thank you, Mr. Choi.
Tasha: You’re free for the night. I have nowhere else to go so I might just return to the loft once I’m done here
Mr Choi-PA: Yes, Ma’am.
Mr Choi-PA: I will be on standby at 7.30 AM to pick you up tomorrow for the meeting with Mr. Lee
With a smile on her face, Tasha types down a few more words of gratitude to send out to her driver and personal assistant before slipping the cellphone back into her purse. The elevator ride ends just then and the door opens to the rooftop bar. The same bar where she had spent hours drinking and sharing life stories with Jungkook just the night before.
After spending most of the day helping Jungkook plan out his return to Seoul, Tasha had joined her father who had come to supervise the resort while she sent Jungkook away with her driver taking care of business for her as he went back to his friend’s place to pack up his things and say goodbye. She is exhausted, drained from being a martyr as she helped a friend defy the century-old system that had been controlling all human beings in their chances of love and from spending the rest of the day going around the resort to deal with its management issues until late.
She feels so drained that there is nothing she wants to do more than to simply return to her loft and lie down in bed. Perhaps she could catch up with some sleep, taking back all the hours that she had lost from having her impulsive runt with Hyuk yesterday night.
But on her way back, she felt the sudden urge to have a nightcap before bed. Only that the idea of having one back in her loft while she is alone at home had sounded so sad. She felt the need to be in the crowd for some reason, even if it is only for the sake of drowning her thoughts with the loud sounds of people chattering and live music playing on the stage, which had been the reason why she made her way back up here before she would retreat for the night.
The bar counter doesn’t seem as crowded as the night before, and she finds no problem in finding an empty seat where she could settle herself into. She looks around, finding Hyuk being too busy tending the VIP guests on the other side of the floor to notice her, so she turns to call out the new bartender servicing the guests tonight to get her fill.
“Martini. Dry,” she immediately orders her usual.
“Do you want to open a tab tonight, Ms. Lee?”
She quickly shakes her head. “No, I’m just having this one before I go.”
One drink to celebrate yet another love story being written in history.
As she takes slow sips of her drink, savouring it instead of downing it so she could find a moment to relax, Tasha pulls out her phone, scrolling down the messages that she had been receiving all afternoon. A smile comes to her face when she comes across the last message that she had exchanged with Wooyoung, when he had let her know that he would be flying in with his wife next weekend for a short vacation while asking if they could meet. She feels excited as she imagines telling Wooyoung and his wife the story of Jungkook and his quest to find love, as the three of them had grown close after their saga that many years ago.
She suddenly feels the urge to laugh when she thinks about how her relationship with her soulmate had evolved over the years. How they have grown to have a sibling-like relationship since then. Even his wife has become a part of it, all because they still care about each other despite everything that had transpired between them.
She continues scrolling, stopping on the message that she had sent to Jungkook’s brother last night after watching Hyuk drop Jungkook in the guest bedroom back at her loft. It had been a relief that she had taken her time to exchange numbers with some of the family members who had attended the dinner party at Bovine that night a few months back, making it possible for her to send the news to Jungkook’s family before she would make sure to convince him to return.
Placing the phone back in her purse, Tasha tries to enjoy the moment, though she cannot help but let her mind wander off to Jungkook one last time. She is not the kind of person who enjoys meddling in someone else’s business. She had almost ignored the voice in her head that kept telling her to make an exception this time when she saw Jungkook last night at the bar.
Just like what she had told Jungkook this morning, Tasha has always been someone who adores romance. She may have never once truly experienced true love, yet she still loves the concept of love itself, and she still yearns for it just like how everyone else would wait for their own happy endings. That was the reason why she had taken it a stride when Wooyoung confessed to her for having someone that he had already loved before they met and how she agreed to stay with them as they tried to figure things out until the day they officially wed.
It was also the reason why she had felt such a strong pull in her soul to help Jungkook. And now that she had done what was needed, she cannot help but feel pleased with herself for listening to that inner voice of hers, to know that despite whatever the outcome might be, it was truly worth it when she saw the determination in Jungkook’s eyes when he told her that he was ready to return to Seoul to get back to you.
Lifting her glass of drink, she looks closely at the glowing liquid as she murmurs softly to no one in particular, “Isn’t love such a funny thing?”
“I’m sorry?”
A deep voice suddenly speaks to her. She snaps up and looks over to the man sitting beside her, who had, no doubt, heard what she had just said and is now looking at her curiously.
Tasha falls silent for a moment, astounded by the sight of the gorgeous man and the fact that he is looking straight into her eyes. Already well trained to regain her composure, she covers her stumble and shock with an easy laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking out loud.”
The man laughs with her. “I do that all the time too, mostly when the music is loud like this and you can’t hear your own thoughts,” he says, pointing at the live band playing on the stage across the room. Tasha follows his gaze before turning back to him.
“You’re not enjoying the band?”
“Oh, I’m enjoying the music. It’s just…loud,” he says, chuckling at himself. And Tasha is surprised to find just how comforting his voice is when he does that. “But I honestly don’t mind it. I just got out of a different kind of party and this is the scene that I needed.”
“Another party?” she asks, raising her pretty eyebrows curiously. She finally takes a look closer at him then, scanning his looks—from the folded tuxedo jacket that he has hung on the back of his seat, the folded sleeves of his shirt, the bowtie that has been left hanging loose on his collar—
“Let’s see…Nice tux, sleek hair, must have been a fancy one. And something proper. I’m guessing it was a wedding?”
He raises his eyebrows, looking surprised. Judging from the way he laughs while looking astonished, she knows that she has hit the jackpot even before she confirms it himself. “You’re mighty observant. How did you know?”
Acting coy about it, Tasha lightly shrugs. “I work with people. I manage things to make sure that I can keep people entertained, so I’ve learned to read them to know how I could please them and fulfil their needs,” she says, stopping when she sees him making a curious face at her comment. It takes her a moment to realise that he might have taken it the wrong way.
With a chuckle, she waves her hand at him. “Oh no, darling. Not that kind of work. No offence to the ladies who work in that field, though,” she says, still giggling at his reaction, thinking of how adorable he looks whenever he is confused or lost. “I work in management, and I manage places where people would go to when they need to wind down and have fun. This bar, for example, is just one of them.”
The man nods, exhaling a soft chuckle as he says, “Ah, gotcha,” before he finally introduces himself as Matthew. Matthew Kim, a freelance developer who has been staying at a different resort on the island for the past couple of nights for the wedding he attended. She keeps repeating his name in her head for some reason, even as she gives him hers.
“So, what’s with the drinks?” she asks him curiously once she remembers that the resort did host a simple wedding reception at one of its open courts which isn’t supposed to end yet. “Did they not serve you enough alcohol at the party?” Even if she had called it a night and had vowed to not spare her mind in anything related to work, she cannot help but to start compartmentalising, trying to take notes to see if there is something that her staff might be missing out on.
Tossing his drink down his throat, Matthew laughs and shakes his head in return. “No, no, I’m just here to celebrate. I couldn’t do it properly earlier when I had too many eyes on me,” he says while raising his glass to her. “It was my soulmate’s wedding, after all.”
Her world immediately stops. “Your…soulmate?”
Matthew orders another round of drinks for the two of them while any plan that she has made about ending the night short simply vanishes into the back of her mind when he begins sharing his story. How he met his soulmate during high school reunion—she was an old schoolmate of his who had moved out to the States back in high school, before they ever had the chance to realise they were soulmates—and how their reunion had happened too late—for she had fallen in love with someone else while he had claimed himself married to his job and current lifestyle—and how he had found that there was no need for them to change everything when the bond between them could never change their feelings for each other, since they had only considered each other as friends. Unlike Tasha’s or Jungkook’s case, Matthew simply stepped aside to let his soulmate continue on with her life, without him, and he had chosen to accept her invitat
↳ Summary: Waking up in a maze of rooms with no memory you’re thrusted into a world of lowlit neon lights and rumors of ominous Game Rooms, a series of challenges you must complete both physically and mentally in order to find the exit. When strange things begin to happen, the stakes rise higher and it’s only a matter of time before insanity takes over. As each door becomes a little more dangerous soon you are fighting for your life with a man who you know nothing of besides his name…It’s gonna take a lot of nerve for you to survive.
↳ Genre: thriller, mystery, angst, eventual smut, dark content TWs will be mentioned whenever present
You hadn’t been comfortable with this from the start, you could understand Jimin’s reasoning though.
‘Listen I’d keep you with me but it’s dangerous, too dangerous right now,” Jimin sighed as you crossed your arms, warily looking across the room where Jungkook was, kneeling down and holding up a notebook to the light as he scribbled something down, “I made a deal with Cross and Clay awhile back and they’re still angry over me breaking it. That was close Y/n, too close.”
You frowned as you whispered, “But we survived! You said it yourself Jimin, it’s not going to be easy here. Jungkook said he didn’t want me to go with him can’t I…” You sighed as you shifted your weight from foot to foot, “Can’t I just stay with you a little longer then I’ll leave!”
Jimin frowned, eyes filled with pity as he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “We survived, barely. And only…” Jimin trailed off as he squinted a little at you, “Only because you somehow learned how to fight four men at a time.”
You rubbed the back of your neck as you looked away, feeling as if he was asking you silently just how you did it, yet nothing came to mind, you didn’t know how you did it. You just….knew. As if it was in your blood, as if it was as easy as breathing air. Jimin leaned a little away from you as he lowered his gaze, “Just let me talk to Jungkook, okay? He’s a good guy, he’ll keep you safe until you’re comfortable on your own.”
Jimin gave you a pat on the shoulder before walking past you as your mind replied to what had previously happened. Somehow, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t you who needed to be protected.
Jungkook hadn’t spoken a word to you the whole time, no matter how much you tried to initiate conversation, he looked…not angry, but he certainly wasn’t happy you had ultimately come along with him. You weren’t sure what Jimin said, but whatever he had it must have convinced Jungkook, barely.
You weren’t used to this, Jimin and Seokjin were both not only helpful, but extremely nice and more than happy to answer any questions you had. Jungkook couldn’t be more than the opposite of that. Opening the door to the next room Jungkook sighed, “Go sit down, I need to scavenge the room.”
You jumped a little at his deep semi stern voice that made you at first want to obey before you paused, “I can help!” You chirped, wanting to at the very least, be on cordial terms with Jungkook. If you couldn’t at least be helpful then you’d rather just be on your own. You got the idea of how to do everything now. Even if you didn’t want to be on your own, you’d have to do it eventually.
“Sit.” Jungkook’s eyes narrowed a little as he looked at you stern this time, as you huffed keeping close to his body as he walked through the crowd of hazed stray’s who didn’t even seem to really notice you.
Somehow, the enemy was able to find the location of the Yongsan division office. They must have followed your van here after the incident at City Hall or used some other undetectable means to trace you. Perhaps that was their plan all along, to discreetly tail your vehicle during the hectic escape to safety. Whatever the answer is, it no longer matters how they managed to discover your haven.
They’re here—and you’re under attack.
The fire alarm is shrill and seemingly perpetual in its shrieking pattern as it drills into your head with each blaring reiteration. The halls and rooms are echoing with the sound to alert the inhabitants of what they already know—the structure is starting to go up in flames with the source of the disaster well below the level you are currently on but advancing its spread with persisting speed.
You’re running down the stairwell of the building, moving as quick as you can to see if there is still a chance to escape. Even if there isn’t, there’s no way you’re going to stay in your room and accept the charred fate that awaits you. Ignoring the restriction of movement in your arm and the searing pain that overwhelms your back from the brash stress you’re putting on it, you keep a steady and brisk pace down the seemingly unending steps.
Until, you can’t go any further.
You freeze at the top of another flight of stairs as you were just about to get ready to conquer it. At the bottom, the fire is now clearly visible, and the heat emanating from it is so blisteringly strong, it feels as if your skin will start boiling if you go any closer. The embers lick dangerously under your feet, and the smoke not only proliferates from the lower floors to obscure the rest of the path you were planning to take, but the suffocating fog ascends in billows to scorch your lungs, eyes, and everything in between.
If the conditions are this bad when you’ve barely made it to the fourth floor, then it’s a guarantee that your exit route must be overtaken with flames, seeing how the building is burning from the bottom up. The threat is drawing nearer with each passing second, which effectively wipes any idea you had in your mind that this could be a viable path to take.
Turning back around, you begin a sprint up the same stairs you rushed down on, hoping that your legs won’t give out on you in this more difficult trek to your new destination. Since you can’t even dream of going to the ground floor, the only place you can go now is up. There’s no need to stop and take a peek over your shoulder to check the status below, because you’re fairly sure that the fire and smoke are rapidly advancing.
You can feel it.
Once you reach the top of the very last set of stairs, you’re met with an exit that is labeled “roof access” in bold, red letters. You throw yourself onto the metal bar and shove the door open, not stopping your winding feet until you reach another roadblock: the edge.
Above your head, the sky is nothing but a murky shroud, but below, you are able to see the hellish illumination of the fire that has already devoured half of the structure. You strain your eyes to look beyond the smog and sparks, and when you focus on the ground near the sidewalk, you detect numerous dim figures you can only assume are onlookers of the spectacle. It definitely looks to be a long way down with nothing to break the fall but the unforgiving pavement.
Remarkably, that doesn’t stop the people trapped inside the building.
Movement coming from the upper levels catches your attention, and when you try to discern what it is, your vision follows the descending shadows as they fall out of the windows and make their way towards the cement. Judging by the rate at which they are dropping, you can easily distinguish that those forms aren’t just papers or objects from the offices floating through the wind. Bodies are flying out of even the tenth floor windows, plummeting down with increasing velocity until they crash onto the unrelenting surface with sickening splits and splatters. Everyone is desperate to escape this burgeoning inferno, and you can’t say that you’re too far behind the tipping point yourself.
Actually, you’re about a step away from it.
Staring down at the scene below, you can determine that while the threat is coming ever closer, there are no other escape routes available for you to choose from. There are only two options: you can either stay here until the building burns up or collapses beneath you, which could be any minute now, or you can jump off and join the rest of the agents who took the leap of faith. Maybe you’ll be able to get away with your life in exchange for broken legs if you position your landing correctly, as slim of a chance it may be.
You take a deep breath, immediately regretting it as you inhale a lungful of the all-too-familiar fumes of ash and carbon. Your time is running out, and you know that there’s only one thing left to do.
Wake up.
You jolt awake with a start, your eyes shooting open to meet the same insipid ceiling from your previous awakening, except this time, it’s eclipsed by a looming shadow above you. Your first reaction is to lunge up from your bed, reach out for a nearby item to protect yourself with, do something so you can ensure your safety and stability, but you can’t move.
That’s when you realize that someone is hovering over you, clamping your wrists and shoulders down in an attempt to hold you down. Since flight is not an option, you start to kick into fight mode, but when your frantic eyes land on the face of your supposed assailant, the tension relaxes from your body in a wave of relief.
“Sorry,” Namjoon says, slowly releasing his grip and straightening himself up from the leaning position. “I thought it would be best to wake you.”
Your heart is still racing from the residual adrenaline pumping through your veins from the unpleasant awakening and even more unpleasant dream, but you start to steady your breathing after grasping an understanding of the circumstances. At least he took caution to restrain you before attempting to wake you. It seems as though he has learned from the mistake he made last time—of course, the nasty bruise and near concussion probably served as a lesson he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“Why are you here?” you question, subtly trying to move past the embarrassment of having to be woken up like a child who was acting out because of a nightmare.
“To tell you that you’ve been discharged,” he states as he watches you prop yourself upright on the bed. “You can leave whenever you’d like as long as you stay on the other side of the Han. I was just about to head back to HQ, so I wanted to stop by and see if you were up yet.”
“I’m up now,” you begrudgingly declare. You rub your eyes of whatever remnants of sleep are still leftover and push the sheets off of you. “I’ll be out in 10.”
“Take your time.”
Namjoon leaves with a click of the door, leaving you to your own devices. You take this time to release a well-needed sigh in appreciation for your body and mind finally calming down. It’s much too early to be in inner turmoil right now, but apparently your brain thought otherwise and felt the need to grace you with the highly unnecessary and unwelcomed dream.
You couldn’t fall asleep for the longest time last night, and it was only when you could almost perceive the first rays of the morning sun brightening the dark blue sky that you managed to slip into a slumber.
Evidently, that didn’t last long.
Even though the couple winks you were able to squeeze in leaves you feeling wearier than ever, you still can’t relinquish the chance to get up and leave this stuffy room, even if it’s just to return to the comfort of your own bed. You keep that thought in mind as you go to change out of your hospital garments, but you having a strong feeling that it’s going to be a long while until you have the pleasure of getting some real rest.
As you pull out of the parking garage, you brace yourself to face something similar to a warzone, but much to your surprise, things are completely and utterly normal. With the flow of the traffic and the stream of pedestrians filling the streets, everything is business as usual, almost as if a violent crime didn’t just take place in the heart of Seoul yesterday. It could be because you’re heading back to Gangnam, which is on the opposite side of the Yongsan office from the crime scene, but nevertheless, is seems as though the city is an unstoppable, well-oiled machine.
That is, until you step foot into Kim Daily.
On most days, it’s the upper levels of the 54-story structure, the quarters where the assassins spend the majority of their time, that are bustling with activity, but today, the lower precincts where the news company works its journalism magic are just as busy, if not more so, as the rest of the building’s denizens.
You have grown to admire their hard work and their ability to stay on top of things, because among the many powerful resources Mr. Shin possesses, this news company is one that proves to be most reliable time and time again.
It has not even been a full 24 hours since the incident occurred, yet it seems like the situation is well on its way towards being resolved. The whole of yesterday was dedicated to revising the print for this morning’s paper and filling the online news platform with all the necessary information that needed to be distributed to the general public.
The big headline doesn’t include the gritty details of the violent turn of events that you would usually find on cover stories such as these. There’s nothing specific about the one dead and nine injured, numbers that are blown up with prominence on other news outlets, nor are there profiles of the shooter and his associates, a decision no doubt to keep your identities safe.
Instead, the main emphasis is on reform—how we will recover from this tragic event and the steps we need to take in order to prevent it from happening again in the future. It’s an extremely well-written, convincing, and thrilling exposé on the nation’s gun control regulations that most definitely will leave readers nodding their heads in agreement or at least scratching their chins in contemplation.
On top of that, quite literally, is Mayor Moon’s face plastered on every front page. The photo is not taken from the press conference that transpired yesterday, despite it being fitting for the article, but instead, it’s one of his more professional shots that you would spot on posters for his campaign tour. The Mayor of Seoul looks like a jolly man with thin-rimmed oval glasses, neatly-combed black hair, and a smile that ironically brings out the prominent frown lines on his forehead.
Within the exposé, quotes from the press conference concerning the attack at Seoul Plaza have been included. Mayor Moon responded to the early criticisms and vowed to do everything in his power to make the city safe again. To win over the public even more, he also discussed his proposition of restricting firearms to a greater extent by requiring GPS tracking of all guns that are in circulation from now on.
Between this incident and what happened in Sejong earlier this year, you have a good hunch that the new regulations will be put into full effect soon enough.
It’s all good in theory, but you know that there’s no way that a law like that will reign legitimately, at least not for you guys. If anything, it’ll just become that much easier to monitor the authorities and any other low-class criminals who are unlucky and ignorant enough to carry around bugged weapons.
Come what may, Mr. Shin is managing to make the best out of a situation that could have gone terribly wrong and should have had no upsides whatsoever. You thought it would certainly take more of a strenuous effort to bury things and cut all loose ends; shootings in Seoul are exceptionally rare, and even for a man of his capabilities, you were sure it was going to be difficult to sweep under the rug and cover up. Not only is he doing exactly that though, but he is also helping to paint Mayor Moon in a better light, fruitfully furthering the solidity of both of their positions.
A true win-win scenario.
By the end of the scramble, you stand corrected, having taken your boss’s professional prowess too lightly. Mr. Shin has been running the game for decades now, so you doubt that this is the worst thing that he has witnessed during his lifetime. It was foolish of you to think that any other undesirable outcome would have spawned from this situation.
In the following days, it seems as though the shooting and the subsequent proceedings that occurred afterwards are all that is being broadcasted and covered by news companies and major media sites alike. It’s all that comes up on the TV at the apartment when you have time to turn it on, which you do have plenty of recently as the assassins have been told to put down their guns and knives and lay low until things get concluded with ink strokes and keyboard clicks.
It’s times like these where the pen is, in fact, mightier than the sword.
“I am here to confirm that we have successfully captured the offender and have taken him into custody.”
An astute voice leaks through the speakers as you watch the announcement on screen. Cameras are flashing and shuttering at amazing rates, but that doesn’t seem to faze the Police Chief, Cho Ryeowoon. This uniformed man of experience has a rigid stance and hardened facial expression that makes him appear almost immune to the commotion around him. He’s standing behind the podium to carry out a simple task, one that will hopefully be the bow that wraps up this entire case.
“Everyone can rest assured that the streets are safe. With the recent mandates that have been passed, there is no need to worry about something like this happening again.” Sure enough, it only took a span of a few days for the gun control regulations to be imposed. Chief Cho’s guarantees sound so matter-of-factly, and you’re impressed by his ability to turn such a dubious subject into a highly persuasive speech. “As for the culprit, I think I speak on behalf of everyone when I say that it is only right that he be brought to justice—and you have my word that he will.”
After a few seconds, a picture of the alleged criminal is pulled up onto the screen by the broadcasting station. The man in the photo isnot Jungkook in any way shape or form, but since the CCTV footage of the actual wrongdoer was never released to the public, the viewing citizens will be none the wiser. Even those who were physically present won’t be able to say a word otherwise, because with a beanie and a mask, any male with the same build and basic traits can probably pass as Jungkook.
You can’t help but wonder who the poor sap going under the guillotine is, but you guess it doesn’t hold significance. If it did matter, he wouldn’t be where he is right now, taking the blame for your teammate’s actions for the sake of your organization and its allies. Besides, if you know anything about the organization, it’s almost guaranteed that the man did something foul for him to be placed on the hot seat like that—this is just a slightly less practical way of getting him where he needs to be.
Truthfully, you’re pleased that this is being covered up so competently. None of you need the stress of the aftermath weighing down on you, especially not on top of all the other baggage you have to carry. It’s a bit selfish to say the least, but being in the position that you guys are in, it can’t be helped.
It’s merely self-preservation.
Since the effort to recover from the close call went better than you could have hoped for, especially after the “culprit” was captured, the status of the organization returned back to normal in record time. Following suit, your stitches were taken out after about a week of having received them, and by now, the wound is no longer hindering your movement and performance.
The situation seems to have blown over in the blink of an eye, but on the contrary, those few days of unemployment were arduous for the business. While you were all preoccupied with the large-scale affair, it was not quite as impacting to the rest of the city’s population who weren’t directly affected by it. Even in the madness of everything that happened regarding the wanted man, clients were not holding off on placing orders and requests, so to act in accordance, the organization accepted them like they always did.
This is a business, after all, and these are your jobs—your livings. Everything else was continuing on with its fixed pace after acknowledging what has passed, and you guys couldn’t afford to be bumming around for any longer when there were contracts to be signed and orders to be fulfilled. Especially after the news broke that the organization had quite possibly been infiltrated by a mole, not another minute can go to waste.
Just like that, life goes on.
Jungkook was transported back to headquarters shortly after you returned, and yet, even as the days go on, you don’t catch so much as a glimpse of him.
It’s rather strange if you think about it. There are many times when both you and Jungkook are busy with your own assignments, and during those periods, days or even weeks can go by until you two see each other again. Currently, it has only been a little over a week, but these are not the same circumstances. It’s a completely different story because you know that he is in the same building as you, conversing with the same people as you, probably even eating the same food as you, but he himself is choosing to keep you distant and away.
You hate this feeling that is planted within you, growing each day that it’s left neglected like intrusive vines that spread through every fiber of your being. You wish that you could at least apologize in person or even see with your own two eyes that he’s really okay, but so far, you haven’t been given a chance to clear up the mess.
Some of the others are doing their best to keep you in the know, so when they relay to you that his condition is progressing well, you have no choice but to take their word for it. He’s apparently healing up quite speedily—to your liberation, there are no persisting damages from the bullet wound—but you didn’t expect any less from Jungkook. Sometimes, you seriously believe he’s just built in a different way from most people in this world.
From what Jin has graciously taken the time to tell you, Jungkook has been put under special care until he is completely healed. You’re grateful for your supervisor, because even scraps of information such as this is not necessarily mandatory to divulge to the rest of the team. Perhaps he’s so attentive at informing you because he feels guilty about the whole exchange at the Yongsan corridor. Even if that’s not the case, Jin does tend to have a bit of soft spot for you—Lord knows you’ve been softening him up by poking and prodding him for details since the dawn of time. It’s not that you take advantage of this fact at all, but more often than not, you are able to coax something useful out of him.
This is one of those times.
It became clear to you that this “special care” wasn’t just to track the superficial injuries Jungkook sustained once Jin uttered that single word, one that you realized was the true reason for the elongated recovery time and temporary removal from the team.
Therapy.
Yes, assassin therapy is not only a thing, but a quintessential aspect of the system. Just as important as physical health, if not more, mental health is dealt with the utmost care, precision, and promptitude.
The organization holds monthly evaluations for all members working within it, and among the several tests is a mental state check, one of the practices in which everyone’s psyche is measured and monitored. These examinations are tedious at times, but they are essential not only for curing anomalies but for preventing those imbalances from happening in the first place, and the consequences of deciding to omit this facet of the assessment are far too high. The officials and even other members need to know that the inner workings of an operative are not abnormal or unstable in any way before setting them out into the field with the potential to inflict adverse harm and wreak havoc.
Furthermore, this arrangement proves to be amply effective.
There have been a few instances where you have heard of assassins being pulled from their roles on the team, almost always at the end of the month and with minimal repercussions. There was only one deviant from this otherwise efficacious procedure you remember hearing whispers about that concerned a particular agent whose primary job was interrogation—just like Jimin. His personal methods, however, became too eccentric, even for the organization’s tastes.
To put it bluntly, he was discovered to have been cutting off and eating the hostage’s fingers in order to force them to comply.
Admittedly, it was an effective torture technique—there’s really nothing like watching someone eat your own body parts in front of you—but unsurprisingly, it didn’t go over well with the higher-ups, or anyone else for that matter. Shortly after he was caught—it didn’t take long after the initial episode—the agent was removed from his post before he could go off the deep end, as if that line hadn’t already been crossed.
This entire screening process is in no way a perfect one, but without its implementation, the organization could very well have seen greater calamity or even collapse by now.
Jungkook’s behavior certainly raised some red flags with the company officers, and while you can argue that it’s not nearly as bad as Mr. Finger Fetish, you have to agree with the call for rehabilitation that they made. It still gives you shudders when your mind travels back to ponder what kind of mentality Jungkook held in that moment that drove him to go through with his erratic actions. It makes you wonder if you should have paid more attention to the signs that led up to that point.
No, you were well aware of them—you just didn’t act upon them.
You figure that it’s no use in making yourself feel worse than you already have been feeling all week. Now that the problem has been uncovered, the focus now is to make sure that it’s extinguished and won’t be rekindled again. You’re relieved that he’s undergoing the proper treatment he needs, and thankfully, everyone’s extremities are still intact.
Plus, you know Jungkook will make it through to the other side better than ever.
All of you are a little broken in your own way, whether you’ve been bent and twisted or torn and frayed. There is not one person among you who doesn’t struggle with your own self, because regardless of if you like it or not, residing inside every single one of you is the good, the bad, and the ugly. Not only do you learn to live with this reality early on, but you are taught to overcome it and manipulate it to your advantage.
Human emotions are such frail constructs to begin with, but even with what could easily be considered weaknesses, you’re trained to hone them—control, not erase. You are to amplify them when the situation calls for it and to suppress them when they run the risk of getting in the way, but you are never to dispose of them.
In spite of everything, you are human, and they are what make you so.
You can only attempt to hold something in for so long until you explode; it might not always be the cannibalism route, but an eruption is imminent. There have been plenty of instances of this happening—examples, if you will—with the orphans and assassins before you, displayed in the various ways they fought with themselves, whether they couldn’t pull the trigger or they pointed the gun at themselves.
The organization allocated the time and effort to refine their training and selection program so that the possibility of those outcomes has been reduced to the lowest prospect, but even so, they did not resort to producing mindless drones. You are all still your own individual person with innate strengths and weaknesses, the former being polished and the latter being purged.
In Jungkook’s case, he is currently in the process of having his faults expelled, and in harmony with that, you need to make sure that your strengths have been toughened after the experiences you overcame. You can look at it like he is working on his own mission at the moment, so the only thing left for the rest of you to do is continue on your own missions as always.
Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader
Word Count: 2k
Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!
You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.
Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Also Jimin not letting the female MC live for one day, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!
“Congrats,” you hold your arms out for your best friend, who’s standing in a corner with his teammates “You did it, Jimin told me you scored 2 goals this time.”
“Of course, I did,” Joon beams, showing up his dimples as he throws himself in your embrace “so when am I getting my breakfast?”
“Ugh of course,” you roll your eyes “How could I even think you’d forget?”
“Why would I forget,” he chuckles “The only thing I could focus on the whole game was the breakfast buffet I’ll get if I score two goals this game.”
“Joon, don’t let anyone hear this,” you sigh shaking your head in disbelief “you’re the captain of the team.”
“Oh, honey I’m not even the worst,” he laughs “Half of these guys were only playing for the hook up they’ll score tonight,” he points at his teammates, each scattered around and flirting with girls, showing off their victory from the earlier game “They’re technically like soldiers coming back from serving country, popularity is at all times high.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, eye rolling around the room “Explains why your minion disappeared the moment we entered the place.”
“Jimin?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows “he’ll be back soon, I told him to keep you close to him tonight.”
“Joon-“ you start but your friend quickly dismisses you
“Listen to me please,” Joon speaks up “hang around Jimin for tonight, just in case Jiwoo and I need to dip.”
“When are you guys planning to tell Hoseok?” you ask, spatting Jimin’s hand away “Because honestly I had enough of your hide and seek game.”
“Hanguk boys are here,” Joon stares right at your eyes, before motioning his head to a certain direction “your Golden boy has been eyeing you since you got here.”
Your eyes flick to where Namjoon is pointing at and immediately meet Jungkook’s gaze, he is sitting in one of the comfortable leather couches, the girl who now you know is called Yeri plastered on his lap. He’s holding a bottle of beer with one hand and holding the girl’s disproportionately small waist compared to her hips with the other, but his eyes are clearly on you.
You watch as the girl places a white cigarette stick on his lips and brings the lighter closer to him, he glances at her for a brief second before looking back at you.
“Well, he seems occupied,” you stare right into his dark eyes before looking at Joon “So I’m gonna go entertain myself if you don’t mind!” you say with a bitter tone before turning on your heels and walking off
You hear your friend calling after you but all you can think about is to get away from the scene and Jungkook who’s obviously decided to enjoy his night. You quickly walk off to the bathroom, locking yourself in the place and resting your back on the wall.
“Get yourself together,” you scold yourself as you run your fingers through your hair “He’s free to fuck anyone he wants,” you sigh trying to convince yourself “It’s not like you own him or something.”
You stare at yourself in the mirror, heart clenching as you unconsciously start to compare your appearance with the girl who you just saw with him, giving yourself a failing score in all matters.
“Fuck this,” you mutter through gritted teeth “Get out there and enjoy your night,” you murmur “he was just a hook up, that’s it.”
You twist the doorknob and step out, determined to change the night over for yourself. So, you step through the hallway, walking through masses of college kids drinking and flirting with each other.
“Angel,” you hear Jimin calling for you from the end of the hallway “Here!” he waves and you unconsciously smile at the guy’s goofy action
“Whatever,” you sigh “Just hang around Joon’s minion for tonight, it can’t be that bad-“ you’re wondering with yourself when you feel a strong hold on your arm yanking you in the opposite direction
“What the fuck-“ you turn around and feel your body pulled into one of the rooms in the hallway in a quick motion. Before you know, you’re inside the dark room with your back against the door and Hanguk’s golden boy standing dangerously close to you.
“Jeon,” you call with a lost tone, trying to make the calculations of how he showed up here when he was just in Yeri’s arms a few minutes ago “W-What-“
“Kook,” he demands, staring at you with trembling eyes “I told you to call me Kook!”
“Weren’t you busy?” you scoff, searching his expression “Is Yeri not entertaining you enough?” you ask in a venomous tone, and the bitterness in your words surprises you
“I-“ he raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised by your tone “Are you jealous?” he asks with a faint smirk
“Of course not,” you quickly avert your gaze to hide your lie “You were pretty excited to see her earlier!”
“Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks in a dark tone, ignoring your statement
“What?” you furrow your eyebrows
“You didn’t stop me from smoking,” he asks as he stares back at you “I thought you care what I do or don’t before the finals.”
You part your lips to say something but immediately shut them back together, realising the truth is something you can’t express. Of course, you cared if he smoked or not, but you also wanted to avoid approaching him while he showed off his fuckboy nature with Yeri plastered all over his thighs.
“Was it really just a college hook up for you?” he asks interrupting your thoughts “did you only care about my health until you got your college hook-up?” he scoffs as he stares at you with angry eyes
“Kook,” you call, using the name deliberately “Your girlfriend is waiting somewhere out there-“
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he corrects with an annoyed tone “answer my question!”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” you explain with a bitter tone “you’re an adult and you can make your own decision, Kook!”
“Is it because of your friends?” he asks looking into yours for an answer “You’ve been acting so cold and dismissive since that night,” he explains in a frustrated tone “If you’re worried someone will find out, I promise I’ll keep it a secret.”
“Of course,” you spit in a bitter tone, somehow those words cutting deeper into your already fresh wound “you wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re hooking up with a girl like me, right?” you repeat his words from before
“What-“ he repeats with a lost tone “I only said that because-“ he reasons but immediately pauses as if he’s worried about his words so he starts again “If that’s what you want, I’m happy to just keep things at that,” he sighs as he looks at you with a nervous look “we can casually hook up and keep it a secret if you want.”
“It was a mistake,” you finally let out the words interrupting him, not bearing to be humiliated more “I lied,” you continue with a defeated tone “I never planned to hook up with you, not even once,” you confess “I don’t know what came to me, but that night was a definitely a big mistake, Jeon.”
You watch as his eyes grow darker and darker with each word that leaves your mouth, his cocky smirk replacing itself with furrowed eyebrows and unimpressed eyes.
“You said you want me,” he starts, voice growing deeper with each syllabus “you cam all over my fingers,” he continues as the hold on your arms grow firmer “And now you’re telling me it was all a mistake?”
“I-“you gulp, staring back at him as your cheeks flush in embarrassment “That was my instincts and not my brain,” you explain, “I don’t do casual hookups,” you add hesitating to chew your words before muttering “Specially not with guys like you.”
“Guys like me?” He smirks darkly, “You didn’t mind a guy like me when I was knuckles deep and you were begging me to cum,” he spits through clenched mouth “Fine!” he scoffs, looking away to regain his composure, his old cold and distance eyes settling back to his face as he looks back at you.
You feel your heart sinking as you suddenly realise the Jungkook you’ve come to known and wanted to believe exists is faraway from Hanguk’s golden boy and his fuckboy antiques.
“I was just trying to pay you back the favour for helping me,” he says in a haughty tone and your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the expense of his words “I hope that returned some of the favour.” He scoffs in a sarcastic tone
“It was an unforgettable experience,” you retort back with a bitter tone “once in a lifetime.” You add and glance away coldly, pushing pas the guy to leave the room and the most humiliating experience of your life.
You step out and immediately face Jimin who’s standing behind the door, looking at you with knowing eyes.
“J-Jimin,” you gulp nervously, eyes glancing around to ensure no one else from your friend groups are around
“I was looking for your Angel,” he flashes his mischievous grin “I saw you going in there and I though-OH!“ his eyes widen as Jungkook steps out of the room behind you
“Hey Park,” Jungkook greets, pressing his body against your back in a purposeful manner “What’s up?”
“I think I should ask you guys that question,” he smirks, looking between you and Jungkook “What’s up Angel?”
“N-Nothing,” you shrug, averting your gaze “We were just discussing something about the game today.”
“Game huh!” Jimin repeats, his playful smirk proving he hasn’t bought into your lies
“Why? Do you have any problems Park?” Jungkook asks in a sharp tone, “Because if you do we can have a chat about it.”
“Not really,” Jimin throws his shoulder up, and for the first time you notice Jimin is slightly bothered by the guy’s words “Joon Hyung is looking for you, Shall we go Angel?” he calls your nickname with a dark smirk
“Jungkook!” The three of you look at the source of the voice, watching Yeri approaching you “I was looking for you,” The girl states as she spares a dismissive look at you before grabbing the guy’s arm and pulling him down for a peck on his lips “Yugyeom and Tae are looking for teams for beer pong.”
You watch the interaction for a few seconds before quickly glancing away and walking away from them “Let’s go, Park!” you order, walking ahead of the guy
Jimin follows you, matching his footsteps with your quick ones “How much?”
“What?” You stop and glance at him with a confused look
“How much will you pay me to keep what I just saw a secret from Joon Hyung?” Jimin asks with a knowing smile
“We didn’t do anything-“
“NAMJOON HYUNG!” he doesn’t let you finish as he waves for your friend a few metres away “Y/N and Hanguk’s Go-Nghhh.”
You quickly cover the guy’s lips “Fine,” you whisper in a warning tone “Call you price.” You demand and uncover his lips as he flashes you a content smile
“Brunch tomorrow,” he states with a naughty grin “I’ll pick you up from your place.”
“Alright,” you nod quickly “If I know you said anything to Joon I will personally chop your dick off-“
“Ssshhh,” Jimin hushes as he reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear “Don’t talk about my cock like that,” he warns in a deep tone “You’ll regret it when I finally rail you with the same cock Angel!”
“In your dreams!” You roll your eyes, turning on your heels and walking to where your friends are standing together
“FINALLY HERE,” Joon calls in a tipsy tone and you wonder how much the guy had to drink since you were gone “I was starting to get worried you’re caught in the Golden trap.” He winks
“Give me a break, Joon.” you sigh, grabbing a bottle of beer from Jiwoo
“The only trap she’ll fall in is my trap,” Jimin wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you together
“Well I’m glad you’re here,” Joon chuckles as he points at Hoseok a few metres away “Because I need you to distract your Captain so Jiwoo and I can dip.”
“So you were worried about yourself,” you roll your eyes and Jiwoo giggles at your bitter words as you swat Jimin’s hand away
“Thank you, Y/N!” Jiwoo hugs your from behind
“Use protection!” You warn “I’m not ready to deal with the mini version of you two yet!” you say as you wave your hand without looking back and walk towards Hoseok
“Captain,” you call and the guy looks back at you with an affectionate smile, making you feel guilty for the sinful plan you have for him “Congrats!”
“Thanks, Y/N!” his grin widens, his expression shining in joy in an endearing way as he hugs you “Its all thanks to your hard work,” he giggles before adding “and your killer strapping skills.”
“Of course,” you nod with a serious tone “I’m hands down carrying this team on my shoulder, Cap!”
“Well you’re doing a great job,” Hoseok smiles in a tipsy tone “Its reassuring to have you with us, Y/N!”
“What’s with the sentiments cap?” You chuckle, ruffling the guy’s dark brown hair “Are you planning to retire or something?” you joke but your smile immediately fades as you watch the guy bite his lips
“Well I was gonna keep it a secret until the end of this season,” he murmurs, looking around cautiously “It’s a secret, I don’t want the guys to get distracted by the news.”
“Sure,” you force out the words “I mean since you’re a senior, I expected it but I guess I didn’t expect it so soon.”
“I got offered a conditional place in the nationals for next year,” he explains in a quiet tone, hesitating before his next words “Yoongi Hyung talked to them for me,” he immediately bits his lips as he mutters “Are you guys still not talking?”
“Well not really,” you force a smile at the mention of the guy “But I’m glad that bastard came to some use,” you smile “I’m really happy for your Hoseok, you deserved it.”
“Thanks,” he smiles shyly, scratching the back of his head “I’ll miss your killer massages next year.”
“Well you know where to find me if you need one!” you reply and you both laugh together
“CAPTAIN!” Taehyung shouts as he walks to you “Hey Sugar,” he waves before bringing his eyes to the older “We need someone for beer pong, do you wanna join?”
Your phone vibrates in your pocket as Taehyung is speaking and you immediately check the screen to find Namjoon’s message reading “The field is clear!” so you let out a sigh in relief, knowing your mission is successfully finished.
“I thought you guys have enough,” Hoseok speaks up “What happened?”
“We need some to pair with Yura,” Taehyung says and you immediately look up, all attention on him at the mention of her “Jeon already left?”
“What?” you ask immediately, interrupting the conversation “Where did he go?”
“Not sure,” Tae shrugs “He said he’s feeling tired from the game, I think he wasn’t feeling well.”
“Alright, I’ll join!” Hoseok nods and the two are about to leave when you hold Taehyung’s wrist
“Taehyung,” you call, looking at him with nervous eyes “Can I burrow your car?”
“My car?” he asks in a lost tone “Why?”
“I-“ you gulp, trying to come up with a reason but all you can think about is Jungkook and the fact that he’s not doing well “Can I just have it?” you sigh in a defeated tone
“Mhmm,” He smirks, looking at you with suspicious eyes before fishing for his car key and placing it on your palm “All yours sugar,” he says as he stuffs his hands in his pocket “Just tell that punk that he owes me one, Alright?”
You sigh, cheeks flushing at his words, realising he knows exactly why you need his car.
“Alright, see ya!” you mutter before turning on your heels and leaving him behind
| Aubade | n.| au•bade | meaning: a poem or piece of music appropriate to the dawn or early morning. |
⤷Genre:romance; fluff; light angst; husband!jungkook x wife!reader.
⤷Warnings:themes of fear; insecurity.
Jungkook had a way with effortlessly stealing words directly from your mouth.
It was almost facile to your love as he bound you within a stunned silence and left you gaping at his every soft act of love, whether it was a mere kiss stolen before his elders or a plethora of romantic whispers trickling into your ears.
He burned your flesh with an addictive warmth and made you gasp into his affections, reducing you to a stuttering and feeble mess in all he did.
But none of these things mentioned could compare once the disheveled curls and sleepy irises of your lover peeked into the warmth you found in his blankets, his eagerness to have your undivided attention fluttered your heart before the sun had even kissed the sky.
Your sleepy hums and whispers of love that were always promised to escape your lips when you first awakened were taken from your throat once his slender fingers delicately slipped the other half of his ear buds into the hollow of your ear.
“I need you to hear this, love.” He whispered his needs as his only explanation for his excitement that almost trembled his every limb.
Your lips parted in a silent question of what he had meant, but the words melted upon your tongue the moment the rich tones of your love’s voice spilled over your senses as he delicately crooned of the words of love to fill your heart.
Your sleepy mind was suddenly serenaded by every soft note or poetic lyric as his honeyed voice dripped into your senses, to capture your heart with the words of love he confessed your relationship had inspired, you were astounded.
The alluring crescendo kissed your cheeks with the warmth only your lover could elicit, as the crest stirred the butterflies of your stomach in the early hour of blurred vision and sleepy love’s.
The devoted symphony toyed with your heart and dizzied your head within Jungkooks arms until the charming music melted into the cathartic sounds of your love’s even breaths that grew shorter in anticipation of your reaction, and his eyes shyly met yours.
“So, what do you think?” His head fell to the side, curious of your thoughts when not a word dared to pierce your silence.
Your love’s molten eyes stared into yours, so soft and warm as he patiently awaited your answer to his question, the twinkle of hope for your approval within him ensnaring your heart.
The string of the ear buds he shared with you tightly connected your bodies, forcing you to share the little space that waned with every inching closer of his body as his creation overwhelmed you with emotions.
His slender fingers nervously toyed with the warm skin of his hands that you wished to hold so closely, but the stunned silence his soft voice entranced you with kept you locked in your place before him, wrapped in his heart just as well as his sheets.
He was so much like a small puppy as he timidly stared into your eyes, his unkempt hair almost begging to have your fingers threaded through the silken locks as it fell into his gaze.
It was only once you realized you had only stared at him through the tears that gathered behind your lashes rather than answer his request for criticisms did he pour the contents of his heart to you.
“I was just thinking so much of you and how much I love you, a-and the words just poured out-”
The nervousness of revealing the raw depths of his love for you poured his thoughts into you as his hand instinctively reached for yours in search of comfort and tranquility.
His dark eyes squeezed shut until his button nose wrinkled with the force he applied and a soft sigh suffocated each of his flustered ramblings and his hand found it’s place, covering your own.
“I just couldn’t get you out of my head.”
He confessed at last, cautiously revealing his starry eyes once more, fearing your rejection of his particular display of his love for you.
But once he felt the familiar weight of your arms wrap around his shoulders as your body pushed him into the plush pillows that waited to hold your entangled bodies, his stomach twisted with affection, because though he doubted himself, he knew deep in his heart that he was safe in your hands once he stared up into your eyes.
However the gentle caresses of his fingers burned the flesh of your thigh, and his heavy stare suffocated every word that formed upon the back of your tongue, yet your lips parted with confidence.
For the very first time in your relationship, you gathered the words he took from your mouth with his soft love, and you returned his displays of love whilst you whispered into the curve of his ear.
“Jungkook, I didn’t think I could physically hold anymore love for you, but-” your words collided with the kisses you fluttered over the line of his jaw and pooled between your tightly wound forms until you tenderly pressed your mouth to his to whisper into the parting of his lips. “I was so very wrong.”
He tenderly peered up at you through unkempt locks and his fingers dug into your soft flesh as he merely gaped at you, simply enamoured by the passion that held him so dearly.
“I meant every word in that song, (Y/n),” he confessed in the intimate moment you found yourselves wrapped within, his fingers reached into the empty spaces of your own, “you make me whole.”
Your heart warmed at his confession of love that came as naturally as oxygen to his lungs, and you fell for him even more as he raised himself beneath you just enough to meet your lips again, after craving the taste for so long.
And with yet another kiss stolen in the first morning light, Jungkook stole your words once again to leave you gasping in his love, to forever promise to leave you speechless with his heart’s devotion.
⤷Genre:romance; fluff; idiots to lovers; college au; oblivious!roommate!jungkook x female!reader.
⤷Warnings:themes of fear; brief mention of nausea; dizziness; pining.
Jungkook was oblivious, almost painfully so.
He was excruciatingly blind to the fond words of every sticky note you placed to his mirror wishing him a wonderful day,
And his ears were torturously deaf to the sweet whispers you murmured into each cuddle session you held at his place that he most likely shouldn’t have overheard.
The flutter of his heart that alighted his chest at the mere trace of your fragrance was overlooked as no more than excitement for your next adventure, and the rosy hue that spread over his cheeks with every kiss you pressed to them was assumed to be a faulty heater.
Even the gentle reveries of kissing your lips or the wonders of how your hair felt around his finger was written off as a mere phase.
Because everyone falls a little in love with their best friend at least once, right?
All of this being why Jungkook gave no second thoughts to your eager persistence to make a filling breakfast together before you classes started, as a team, as friends, rather than allowing him to sneak to the nearest bakery and snag a breakfast burrito that was almost too much to stomach this early in the morning.
Because you shared a home, definitely not because you cared for him.
It was simply routine for him to stare at your features from afar as the warm, morning light accentuated the shape of your face, as you carried out whatever your mind was set to, seemingly unbothered by his blatant admiration, that is until your voice broke him from his focus.
“I love spending time with you, Koo.”
His eyes ascended from the comically large mitts that covered your hands to peer into your own that were already awaiting his.
“I wouldn’t mind spending every morning with you.” His pulse quickened once more at your words but the fact was discarded in the very same breath he took in to answer.
“That’s what friends are for, I’d love to share my mornings with you too.”
He smiled innocently before it quickly faded once he witnessed how the corners of your lips fell, though he remained ignorant of the cause of your change.
Despite your valiant attempt to break through Jungkook’s friendzone to atleast make your feelings known, your lingering glances that remained upon his for a second too long was accepted as nothing significant, just as your hesitance to release his fingers from your grasp as you guided his hands around the whisk was no more than apricity.
Every blantant hint you dropped went unnoticed until you all but shouted to the whole campus of your love. His oblivion of today growing even more tiring than the years you practically confessed to him daily with no response.
Your thoughts of the future dizzied your head until merely thinking of bearing another day by his side without knowing if he returned your love in full physically hurt as you bothed danced around the other in the kitchen.
But you decided you had nothing else but to take matters into your own hands.
So once the familiar heat of his presence stood behind you, you turned upon your heel to effortlessly exchange your positions, his hip pressing into the corner of the counter with every step you took closer.
But just as your eyes locked upon his, they strayed over his features that always tugged your attention back to him, no matter where you found yourself, and your heart faltered in your plan, his perfection drowning your confidence.
Jungkook was the epitome of what humanity wished to be, he was what artists strived in vain to capture, from his dark lashes and his pretty lips to the barely noticeable freckle just below them. He was perfect in your eyes.
“I have something to tell you.”
The words breathlessly spilled into the air between your tightly pressed bodies, as if a cherished secret only ever to be heard by the one who captured your heart.
Your heart slammed against your chest and into his own, but you didn’t have a care in the world, you needed this release.
You drew in a deep breath in one last desperate attempt to settle your nerves and soothe the butterflies he placed within your stomach, before it all spilled out.
“Jungkook, I love you.”
The words slipped past your lips, never to be taken back again now they pierced the air and met his ears. Silence fell over you both as niether dared to answer nor follow up with the weighted confession.
You stared up into his blank expression with the wonders you harbored for more than two decades, still awaiting an answer that manifested itself as a mere furrow of his brows.
You nibbled lightly on the insides of your cheeks as your mind returned to the negatives of your confession, as you waited for the painful sting of rejection or a nervous laugh that churned your stomach.
His lips parted to speak and you winced in anticipation of his next words, but a scoff never came- but rather something you should have predicted.
“Like, more than a friend or?”
Your eyes rounded into spheres as you stared up into his sincere expression, dumbfounded by your clueless love, your eyelid twitching slightly.
He was still so lost with his feelings for his childhood friend, he never wanted to ruin what he did have with you, all for a kiss or the title of a boyfriend, only to lose you in the end. Until you showed him.
You reached to gently dip your fingers into the flawless canvas of his features to cup his cheek within your hands as you rose to the tips of your toes to gently graze his inviting lips with yours.
You could hear your pulse within your ears whilst your fingertips tingled as you kissed your best friend, as a potential lover, that waited for his response.
“I like you a lot more than a friend, dummy.” You whispered, pulling back just a bit to simply admire him once more, just in case he would never be yours to adore again.
Your eyes fell to his lips that were much warmer and sweeter than you expected, even in the fleeting taste you had, to witness your favorite bunny smile of his grace the dewy flesh.
His strong arms which you cuddled into so many nights and ran to for comfort in every drizzly day wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest, without an inch of space separating you.
“I like you too.” He confessed at last, and your eyes nearly spilled over with tears, he was finally yours.
His lips met yours as the tip of his nose grazed your cheek with every sweeping of his tongue, and your breath lathed over his skin to elicit goosebumps.
Your fingers reached to thread through the tousled strands of his hair as your bodies pleaded to come closer, as it just felt right.
And once the timer of the oven startled you within his arms and you both parted, breathless with a smile upon your lips, you only hoped Jungkook caught the hint, you liked him much more than a friend.
Ok, so I’m just speaking for myself when I say this but, I really want to start writing again. I haven’t been able to write as much as I want to because of work and school. I’m currently taking a break from school but I’m working full time.
I am going to start posting on this blog again but I’m also exploring the idea of doing personal stories for people for like $5 or $10. It’d help me out so I would have to work as much. I don’t know if people even still follow the activity on this blog or if they would even want that but I figure I’d put the idea out there.
Also, I want to start fresh. I will still be trying to do some of our old requests but I am going to be taking me ones!
I’m gonna put my Line (sydneyalysha) and kakao talk (larryisme) on here because our inbox is so full that I’m not sure what is new and what is not. So just message the blog in a private message or message me personally. Thanks!!
I had actually started the previous JK prompt but chose a different route halfway through… Here’s the alternate ending ;)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Today was a day off for you, so you deside to just sit down with a new drama and paruse about your phone. After a couple hours of mindless scrolling through social media you figured that you should check on your ever so wonderful boyfriend by sending him a quick text.
Y/N: YO! I’m bored, when are you coming over?
TheKookie: you’re timing is impeccable, literally just taking a break xD
Y/N: that’s great, but it doesn’t answer my questiooooon~~
TheKookie: we will probably finish practice in an hour, but I think someone said something about dinner?
Y/N: booooooo
TheKookie: yeah, I’m not sure when that would be over… Those things tend to run late into the night.
TheKookie: but I can still visit later if you want ;)
Y/N: I guess then.
You shake your head “whatever, guess I’ll just have to find a way to kill time then.” you mutter.
Jungkook sent you a message letting you know that dinner is finally done and he’s on his way, meanwhile you were half alseep on the couch so you send him a quick reply and go back to your movie.
Shortly after, he sends you a message to let you know he has arrived. He lets himself in after a quick knock and makes his way over, seeing your half asleep self laying on the couch.
“Tsk tsk Y/N” he chuckles.
You mumble something that should have been “yeah well whos fault is it that I’m half asleep? It’s nearly midnight!” but it came out as kindof a garbled mess.
He just laughed and lifted you half up so you could use his lap for a pillow.
You sigh with content as he absentmindedly plays with your hair, half paying attention to the movie.
You mumble something that is supposed to be a question, but all that came out clearly was “want” and “bed” and maybe something about a sweater.
“Y/N, I have no idea what the question was, so without a doubt my answer is ‘I don’t know’” Jungkook laughed and picked you up.
He carried you to bed as you drifted of to sleep while he was humming a song for you.
Synopsis: You’ve just been laid off, and all you want to do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget. Unfortunately, the neighborhood block party is tonight, and the festivities turn downright chaotic when the entire city loses power. Don’t fret, though. Jungkook will help take your mind off things for a while.
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Strangers to lovers, FLUFF with a capital FLUFF, Yugyeom makes an appearance, humor, comfort, smut (starts out with sweet, vanilla sex and masturbation, turns into biting, hickeys, fingering, oral sex [female receiving, male receiving], edging, protected vaginal sex, playful spanking, overstimulation, spitting), drinking / drinking games, drug use (weed edibles).
Preview:
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehe looks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
Synopsis: You’ve just been laid off, and all you want to do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget. Unfortunately, the neighborhood block party is tonight, and the festivities turn downright chaotic when the entire city loses power. Don’t fret, though. Jungkook will help take your mind off things for a while.
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Strangers to lovers, FLUFF with a capital FLUFF, Yugyeom makes an appearance, humor, comfort, smut (starts out with sweet, vanilla sex and masturbation, turns into biting, hickeys, fingering, oral sex [female receiving, male receiving], edging, protected vaginal sex, playful spanking, overstimulation, spitting), drinking / drinking games, drug use (weed edibles).
Preview:
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehe looks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
Synopsis: You’ve just been laid off, and all you want to do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget. Unfortunately, the neighborhood block party is tonight, and the festivities turn downright chaotic when the entire city loses power. Don’t fret, though. Jungkook will help take your mind off things for a while.
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Strangers to lovers, FLUFF with a capital FLUFF, Yugyeom makes an appearance, humor, comfort, smut (starts out with sweet, vanilla sex and masturbation, turns into biting, hickeys, fingering, oral sex [female receiving, male receiving], edging, protected vaginal sex, playful spanking, overstimulation, spitting), drinking / drinking games, drug use (weed edibles).
Preview:
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehe looks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
What makes a good manager? Empathy? Organization? Know-how? Whatever mix of qualities, are they innate, or does it come from steadily and patiently rising through the ranks with your allies? Are good leaders born or made?
You don’t think you’ll ever be sure of what makes a good manager. But what you are definitely sure about is what makes a badmanager.
Bad managers are the type of people who, when given a choice, elect to have you come in for your office job all week for your usual 8 to 5, and wait until Friday afternoon to inform you that you have been let go, even though they got the call from leadership on Monday morning.
You grumble as you shift your cardboard box of belongings to your other arm in order to make the last leg of your journey, every single one of your pores emptying twenty-fold their volume into the fibers of your polyester blend. Couldn’t you have been sacked in the fall? On top of having an additional couple of months to figure your shit out, you wouldn’t be drenched.
It’s 7 by the time you’re stomping around the corner to your block. There’s a family-sized bag of pita chips, a pail of hummus, and an edible patiently waiting for you.
If only there weren’t so many people blocking the way to your door.
Crumpled ghosts of flyers float past you. Their sans-serif font and centered alignment. The drawing of an old-school boombox with music spilling out of it. The date. The goddamned time.
“Fuck,” you sigh, unable to hear even yourself under millennial R&B samples carrying Gen Z slang.
Shoulders slumping, you try to trudge through the crowd that doesn’t part, draining energy quickly by the time you make your sixth and seventh attempt, even using the sharp corners of your box to try to snowplow your way through the increasingly drunken bodies that won’t feel any pain until the morning.
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehelooks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
“You dropped something.”
The Hulk bobblehead, given to you in celebration of getting this job in the first place, proves to be more lasting than your presence in the office.
When you see it in a puddle by your feet, your heart sinks a little.
And, ever-so-slightly, so does the box in your grip, as you jostle around to allow yourself to reach down and pick it up.
Before you can, though, bent fingers have let go of the drawstring and curl around The Hulk’s head instead. Green abs and purple shorts wiggle from its spring, despite what seems to be The Hulk’s unrelenting protest.
You look up at the owner of those bent fingers, form crouched in front of you, still only able to perceive him in parts. Four wrinkles at the bridge of his nose. An amused smirk.
“Ha ha!”
He studies The Hulk’s face, and his right brow falls into a slanted line in perfect mimicry.
“Raaawwrrr!”
The Hulk’s body wiggles violently as bent fingers shake him back and forth.
“HULK SMAAAASH!”
You don’t mean to smile.
His smile is about to meet you too, but his eyes start to take up more space, widening at the sight of slightly shiny lines on your cheeks, carving your skin out like flowing rivers cutting through sienna rock.
“Hey! It’s OK!”
A sleeve rises into view. It moves in quick, small motions, back and forth.
“Just gotta c-clean him up a little here and—”
The Hulk suddenly grows ten times in size, now dangling on its spring, right in front of your face.
“See?? N-no harm done!!”
You sniffle.
Bent fingers gently set The Hulk back into the box, in a gap between your empty, gray mesh pen cup and your prized, powder blue stapler.
You sniffle again.
You love stapling.
So final, so sure, that satisfying, crisp metal crunch!
You think you hear that crunch as this stranger’s bright eyes are putting it all together.
As are you, bits and pieces of this stranger now stitching together into a concerned but welcoming face, much too kind, and dangerously easy to open up to. Especially for someone in your state.
Your fingers dig into your cardboard box.
“Thanks,” you say, relieved that your voice sounds so steady.
He lifts his eyes from the powder blue stapler and watches as you lift your upper arm to your right cheek.
You dab your tears.
You frown at the sight of black streaks on your blouse.
And then you startle at the feel of denim against your left cheek.
You watch as this stranger takes a step back.
The fact that he doesn’t seem to notice or care about the black streaks on hissleeve makes you care less about the black streaks on yours.
You feel a little lighter. From what it looks like, about three wisps of Pat McGrath FetishEyes lighter.
“Sorry,” he says, “I just—”
“No, that was… that was nice of you,” you say, starting to become impressed at just how steady your voice is. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Can I help you with anything else?” He holds his hands out a little, wrists coming out of his sleeves. “Take that box for you?”
“I’m good,” you say.
He’s kind for softening his doubtful look, but his head tilt gives his thoughts away.
“Really,” you insist.
And you insist to yourself that you really don’t mean to smile. You’re surprised that you do.
He mirrors it, his eyes following his lips, which follow yours, copying perfectly the slightly sad pout that you’re too aware that you’re making, and that tells him that his head tilt is absolutely warranted.
“If you say so.”
Your smile fades a little as you look back down to the box, still in your grip, resting against your stomach.
You look back up and watch as he curiously peruses the box’s content.
“Whatis all this stuff?” he asks.
You look back over at the crowd now spilling out of your apartment building.
“Um…”
Your brain is moving too fast, keeping you from being able to expand on the complexity of the matter. The words settling in the back of your throat are reduced to grade school-level syntax that matches the grade school-level emotions that you’re trying to hold at bay.
This is all Desk Stuff.
Desk Stuff belongs on a Desk.
But you no longer have a Desk.
You no longer even have an Office.
Or a Job.
And all you seem to be able to do about it, at least, for right now, is cry.
“Just… stuff.”
How is your voice still so steady when your stomach and chest are churning and burning, flip-flopping positions in your body in an attempt to escape this disaster?
To escape you?
He seems to realize now. There’s even a hint of — ugh — pity in his eyes.
You want to explain that you’re stronger than this. It’s just that your Job, and your Office, and your Desk were so rare. Beautifully, wonderfully, hilariously rare. Just like your powder blue stapler is rare, and it’s even rarer to see it not at the ready under a mix of sunlight and fluorescent lighting but settled against hastily packed bits and bobs in a box open to the night air.
“You need to keep any of it?” he asks.
The realization feels weirdly cold in your chest. “No,” you say.
“Youwantto keep any of it?”
You shrug.
His head straightens suddenly.
“Not even The Hulk??”
He looks so excited.
You really, really don’t mean to smile. You’re surprised that you do. That you still can.
You even chuckle, softly, three tiny stops and starts of that steady, warm voice.
“Why?You want him?”
“Well, y-yeah — he’s The Hulk!!”
You hold the box out and up to him.
“Take him, then. Give him a nice home.”
Bent fingers wrap around The Hulk’s head. He lifts The Hulk out of the box and places it into the left chest pocket of his denim jacket, patting it caringly, for safekeeping.
The Hulk’s eyes peek out at you over the lip.
“Nowyou pick something,” he tells you.
You look up from The Hulk’s eyes and stare questioningly into the eyes of this alarmingly kind stranger.
“You wanna keep at least one thing, right?” he asks. He peeks back down into the box. “Anything important? Or, just, y’know.” He looks back at you. “Special?”
You think again of the satisfying crunch of metal.
And then you smile down at your powder blue stapler.
You hug the box against your chest with one arm and pull the stapler out with your free hand.
He smiles again, and claps his hands with glee.
The Hulk nods.
And, as you nod back, you catch a glimpse of the alleyway.
Your gaze settles on the too-bright blue paint sadly used for something as putrid as a dumpster.
Your feet take you there, and they, along with your calves, and thighs, and arms, and shoulders, and back, thank you immensely as you toss all the rest inside.
That box looks so small now, amongst everything else. The longer you stare at it, you can’t even really see it anymore, as it gets lost in so many things that also don’t matter.
With your arms free, you get the impulse to pull your phone from your back pocket. But you don’t want to see the flurry of messages that are probably waiting for you.
Instead, you turn and walk back to the curb, where he is still standing and watching you.
Your feet take you back to him, arm at your side, the stapler fold hanging off your finger, its handle and base taking turns swinging as you walk, powder blue grazing the side of your polyester-covered thigh.
You stand in front of him, feeling so much lighter.
“Uh, thanks,” you say. “Again.”
He smiles.
Now that the weight is off of your shoulders, you can take in more. The sound of street traffic buzzing around you. Honks, and music, and chatter.
The crowd around your apartment building has doubled if not tripled in size.
“Live here?” he asks.
You nod, and your shoulders sink. “But the block party completely slipped my mind.” You sigh and wonder how long it will take for the crowd to dissipate. “All I wanna do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget today ever happened.”
“What’s stopping you?” he asks.
You furrow your brow and gesture to the drunken, obnoxious mass blocking your way in.
“Just gotta fight your way through a little, is all,” he says. “C’mon!”
Instead of complaining about having to do anything other than what you want to, you figure that following this guy, with his broad frame, tall stature, and friendly face, will help you work smart and not hard.
So you follow him.
He moves through the crowd with ease, swimming with the current, instead of fighting his way upstream.
He offers you protection from the worst hits. Errant slaps and elbows here and there as people reach for each other. A near-collision with a keg stand.
But people still cut in front of you. By the fourth or fifth instance, you wonder why this always happens when you’re in a crowd, or whether you can consider it a “cut” when you don’t even seem to register on people’s radar.
You watch as his head bobs along, nearly out of sight. And then, when he’s too far away, you start to feel the tide turning again, pulling you back out into the vast ocean.
You’re nearly all the way back by the lobby doors when his face pops out of the crowd.
“Hey!” he exclaims.
He throws his arm out, hand open, palm upturned. A life saver on a rope thick, straight, and strong.
You grab it.
You watch as his hand turns over and determinedly pulls you into him.
And you lock eyes briefly before he swirls you around and puts you in front of the crowd, daring you to meet it face-to-face.
He stands behind you but places his hands firmly on your shoulders.
You grip the stapler tight in your hand.
And then, with his guidance, you start to move through the crowd.
Part the crowd.
It’s much easier than you thought. But you knew that. You used to do this all the time, without even thinking. Shoulders back. Hair tossed just so. Beaming with all the wise, unthreatened confidence that years of a magical mix of expertise and bullshit have bestowed upon you.
They, and he, bring you right next to the elevators, and, thinking this is it, you go to punch the button.
But he steers you toward the stairs instead.
He leans down into you, pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your right ear.
“Let’s go this way.”
The music and chatter is so loud that even though you feel his chest straining, it sounds like a whisper.
You think about what’s waiting for you at home.
The chips. The hummus. The last three squares of your weed-infused chocolates. All designed to help you settle your mind and forget about this whole, wretched day.
Then again, maybe there are other ways to forget.
You shove your powder stapler into your pocket and nod, but it doesn’t matter. He’s already angling you toward the stairs, and chases your steps as you both climb.
You feel his hands slide down your shoulders, then arms, then into the crooks of your slightly folded elbows, your right hand still touting your stapler, your left hand not fully grasping but angled to feel along the railing so that you have something to hold onto if you trip over one of these people sitting on the steps.
He’s right by your side. Grabs hold of you to help keep you steady when someone suddenly moves to get up. When he lets you go at the top of the stairs, you’re almost sad the building has elevators at all.
“You know the Chans?” he asks.
You register the smell of egg rolls and dumplings and fries and cheese and sugar before you notice that the people who happen to be on this floor are too busy stuffing their faces to really talk. It’s quieter here. Thankfully.
“No,” you mumble, as he walks next to you, moving in lockstep down the hall and slightly to the right. “I don’t really know anybody else in the building.”
“Just moved in?”
“Been here three… wait… four?” You grimace. “Years?”
His eyebrows rise at the speed with which his own mother would race a cake over to every new neighbor on their street.
“I’ll introduce you!” he says, swinging around you and standing perpendicular to your path to let you know that this next, slightly ajar door will lead you to The Chans.
He knocks on the door.
It opens, suddenly, and fully, and a woman grins happily at the both of you before settling into his warm, eager gaze.
“Jungkook-ah,” she chides playfully, “I told you to come as soon as the party started! We’re already almost out of—”
He — or, well, Jungkook, apparently — rushes inside the apartment toward the kitchen, leaving you standing there in the hallway.
The woman turns to you, still carrying fondness in her eyes. “Hi!”
“Hi,” you say, as pleasantly as you can.
The woman takes in the sight of you, though she frowns when she looks down by your hip.
“Is… that… a stapler in your pocket?”
Your brain starts to move too fast again.
Desk. Office. Job.
But then she giggles.
“Or are you just happy to see me?”
Jungkook mumbles something resembling an introduction after you follow “Miff-iff Cham” through the busy, glowing living room and into the kitchen.
“Did you even think to get your friend a drink??” Mrs. Chan asks, reaching not for the plenty of plastic flatware but into the cupboards for a porcelain bowl.
Jungkook mumbles something else, a chomped egg roll raised to his lips, cheeks bulging out, and a bit of fried wrapper sticking out of the corner of his mouth.
“This boy,” Mrs. Chan laughs, shaking her head. “He devours everything in sight!” As she talks, she walks down the line of her counter, scooping up a bit of everything from her various pots and pans and plopping it into your bowl. “If we didn’t feed him real food, he’d eat garbage off the street! Like one of those fat pigeons!”
Jungkook protests, still unintelligible, but wounded, and passionate, given that flakes of egg roll wrapper fly out of his mouth.
“Please, Jungkook, you’re so sensitive! Have you seen you?” Mrs. Chan says with a roll of her eyes. “Although, if you keep inhaling these egg rolls…”
She softens at Jungkook’s worried expression.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you fat. I just meant— Ugh, what else eats tra— Like a raccoon, then. How’s that, huh? Jungkook-ah? My little fluffy, sneaky, grabby-hands raccoon?”
Mrs. Chan shoves the now-full bowl into your open hands and makes grabby-hands with her own, pinching his full cheeks, cooing more… weird?… but sweet, raccoon-based compliments at him, which makes him smile happily, and close his eyes at her caring touch.
You bring the bowl up to your face and breathe in the mouth-watering scent of all of this delicious, home-cooked, made-with-love morsels of amazing food.
Foroncetoday, someone has served you a pile of nothing but goodness.
You smile gratefully and take the chopsticks that Mrs. Chan gives to you. And then you take your place next to Jungkook, backs to the sink, both of you leaning back slightly as you eat.
“Now, I didn’t catch your name,” Mrs. Chan tells you, stirring a spoon into one of the pots.
As you finally say it, you can’t help but feel Jungkook paying you close attention — such close attention, mind you, that you swear he’s nearly pressing his smile onto your cheek.
“I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself,” you go on, flashing a look at Jungkook before adding, “I’ve just been so busy…”
Desk. Office. Job.
The rest of the sentence that you were goingto say travels down your throat like the unchewed walnut that slipped by.
You cough. Clear your throat the best you can. And pick up what you can recover.
“…atwork.”
“Ah, well, whatever! I’m happy we get to meet now,” Mrs. Chan says lightly.
The air with which she says it. So ethereal. It makes you feel a little better.
“I’m Chan Jia,” she goes on, “and my husband Feng and I have lived here pretty much all our lives, and, uh, we really like to cook! Even when half the city isn’ton our doorstep.”
Your eyes hang wide. “You’re amazing at it,” you say, through cheeks fuller than Jungkook’s. “The walnut chicken in particular is, mmm, god, so good.”
Mrs. Chan beams with pride. “Glad you like it! And that you came so hungry.”
More people spill into the Chans’ living room, and Mrs. Chan reaches for some of the paper plates and plastic flatware.
“Get her something to drink, Jungkook-ah!”
He nods obediently and yells out an earnest, “Thank you!”
You scarf down the last bite in your bowl and start to calculate what seconds you want — definitely the walnut chicken, and maybe the lo mein — when Jungkook sticks a fresh egg roll in your face.
“C’mon!”
He stuffs the egg roll into your mouth and takes your empty bowl from your hands, setting it in the filling kitchen sink.
He takes your right wrist and tugs on it, leading you back out to the hall.
You bite down on the egg roll and catch the other half in your left hand, grumbling, “I wasn’t done!” as you desperately try to chew and get the delicious pork filling and perfect golden crackles down your gullet.
“Oh, sorry,” Jungkook says. “Seemed like you were.”
“Well!” You raise your left hand and bite into the second half. “I wasn’t!”
“Well, your bowl was empty, and you emptied it kinda fast, like, shockinglyfast, so I thought it was time for dessert—”
You polish off the egg roll as your feet plant themselves in place. “What is this? Who even areyou anyway??”
He smiles. “I’m Jungkook!”
“Yeah, caught that,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Seriously, though! I don’t really know who you—”
Someone splits the two of you, excited to bring one of two waffle ice cream cones to someone downstairs.
“—w-who you are, or if you even live here,” you continue, watching as they round the corner, jogging down the steps with what looks like pistachio ice cream in one hand and some kind of chocolate in the other.
You turn back to Jungkook.
“And all these people? I don’t know who theyare, and I just really—”
“But now you know Mrs. Chan,” Jungkook says, “and I guess by extension you kinda know Mr. Chan. There was a photo of him on the left wall by the—”
A group of young girls giggle as they exit one of the other apartments on this floor, each of them carrying baskets of freshly baked cookies.
Jungkook playfully yoink!s a couple from the last girl’s basket, and she teasingly slaps Jungkook’s arm as he feigns pain.
They laugh at each other, and then, he wiggles his eyebrows and nods upward.
“Oppa!” she whines.
He brings his shoulders up to his earlobes and wiggles his eyebrows even harder.
She rolls her eyes and hands him two more cookies, and she scurries to rejoin her group.
You glare at him.
He blinks at you. Pushes out his lips.
“So…”
He holds out his arm.
“Is it time for dessert?”
You frown.
He wiggles the cookie around.
“Huuuuuh?”
Begrudgingly, you snatch the cookie that he’s offering.
Chocolate chip with toffee chunks and gooey caramel in the center.
It’s goddamn incredible.
“Iseveryoneon this floor a chef?!” you exclaim in surprise, crumbs flinging from your lips.
Jungkook looks up at the ceiling again as he counts. His unfolding pinky denotes The Chans in 2A, duh. His ring finger counts the Jeups and their three lovely daughters in 2D. His middle finger stands for the Gal brothers and their new ice cream machine, or, well, oldice cream machine, since their shop got the new one—
“Kinda, actually,” Jungkook answers, looking back at you, still counting the others in his head while holding the three other cookies between his thumb and index finger. “Although I guess the Jeups and the Gals are more… bakers? But I don’t think you say that for ice cream.”
He plumps his bottom lip, chin wrinkling.
“What do you call someone who makes ice cream for a living?”
You roll your eyes as you polish off your cookie.
“Hey, I thought we were doing it?” he asks. “Shoot. Maybe I’m doing it wrong?”
“Doingwhat?”
“What you wanted to do.”
Toffee and chocolate are swirling together heavenly in your mouth, but you keep glaring at him. You layer more fire into it. Frown harder. Scowl meaner. If you look angry enough, maybe he’ll give you a second cookie out of fear, and you don’t have to admit how boggled you are.
“You said that all you wanted to do was eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget,” Jungkook recalls. “So we’re taking care of the eating part.”
You pull back a little on the glare.
“I would’ve appreciated getting to eat more of that walnut chicken.”
Jungkook’s eyes and grin thin out.
“We can go back. Or…?”
He holds out another cookie to you.
Which you slowly take.
And in return, you let go of the glower.
You turn the cookie over in your hands. Raise it to your lips.
Jungkook nods encouragingly.
You take a bite.
Peanut butter. With little chocolate candies. That are also filled with peanut butter.
Your pesky smile makes another reappearance.
“Now,” Jungkook says triumphantly, biting into two cookies at once and recalling, “Mrs. Chan said,” as he gets those cookies down to half-size with his huge bites, “god this is fucking good,” smacking as he talks, “to get you a drink. So c’mon!”
He holds out his hand again. Devoid of any cookies.
You take it anyway.
And he leads you to the elevator.
“Can I get a copy of the itinerary?” you ask, puzzled by all your traipsing.
Jungkook drums on the elevator doors with his knuckles before giving the right one a slap and pushing the call button. “It’s just block party physics,” he explains. “You saw all those kegs and coolers when you came in, right?”
You nod.
“Gotta keep beer on the ground floor. Nice way to say hi to people. And nobody wants to lug all that shit up all these floors. But people are doing stuff in their apartments, too. More drinks, and food, and games.”
You take a second to take Jungkook in from toe to head. White, worn sneakers, with blue details. Baggy pants. Thin, white hoodie. Denim jacket. Fluffed hair, crinkled and thin eyes, wrinkled nose, and an easy, big smile. Like he’s just hanging out at home.
“Party physics,” you repeat.
The elevator doors open, and you both step in, Jungkook leaning against the railing in the back, and you facing him with a smirk.
“Of which you just happen to be a scholar?”
Jungkook grins. “That, and, uh…”
He gestures to one of the flyers on the elevator bulletin board behind you. It’s not as crumpled as the ones that blew by you earlier. But it is drooping, the tape holding up its top two corners having lost its stickiness over the past few weeks.
You smooth the paper out.
And then you reach into your pocket.
For your powder blue stapler.
You staple each corner into the cork, and you see what Jungkook is talking about. Below the boombox drawing and general details is a whole spreadsheet of details. A murder mystery party on floor twelve. A dance party on floor seven. Karaoke on floor six. Movies on floor eight.
Nothing on floor nine. You’re one of just a few people who live there. That floor doesn’t get great light, or a great view, facing the north, ignored side of the block. But that doesn’t matter to you. You like it quiet. That’s why you’re all there.
For some reason, you feel a little sick at the thought of riding up to floor nine.
So you’re grateful that you stop, for now, on floor five.
It boasts a crowd just a tad smaller than the one on the first floor, but the energy seems easier. Lively, but less brash.
When Jungkook sees your relieved smile, he takes it as a sign that he’s doing somethingright.
“Where should we start?” he asks, looking around at all the open doors. As you re-holster your stapler, his head darts left and right, checking your reaction with each option he presents.
“Board games! Ooh, OK, ‘ya seem to like that. We’ll put that on the list. We could also check out that poker game, which we passed back there. And there’s—”
You pull Jungkook’s arm toward you with such force that his nose bumps into your cheek. You laugh together, your eyes shining a bit brighter.
“That.”
You point.
“I wanna do that.”
Given your professional, cool-toned business separates; your seemingly strategic nature; your, quite frankly, super uptight vibe; and the way your eyes initially widened at the proposal to join the board game room, Jungkook wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who had even a passing interest in drinking games. Especiallyflip cup.
Yet, here you are, standing on top of Kim Yugyeom’s mother’s old kitchen table, the front of your blouse stained with sangria, and both of your hands victoriously pumping two empty, crushed plastic cups into the air.
Funny how the thing that always kept you from playing flip cup was the beer.
And you were extraordinary. How you downed each drink. How, like your voice has been so far this evening, you were able to stay so composed. How that gave you such an advantage with each flip. How everyone in the room cheered you on, shocked by how you hadn’t stuttered on a single cup. How Jungkook almost caught up, but you were able to rally and down two more full cups of sangria than you probably should have.
“Howwwww have I not plaaaaayedthisgaaaaame before?!” you ask, delirious from your winner’s rush. And maybe the sangria.
“You haven’t?!” a laughing Yugyeom adds, as he helps you down from his table. “Would’ve thought you were a pro!”
A little unsteady on your feet, and happily so, you lean into him, melting at his strong form and touch before pouring into one of the chairs nearby.
“Alright there, champ?” Yugyeom chuckles.
He watches you wiggle happily in your seat, one strong wiggle forcing you to lean a bit too much to the right.
“Haha, fuck, let me get you some damn water!”
Jungkook lands in the chair next to you, propping you up and giggling at your blissful humming.
Your eyes meet his. “Oh, what’s this?” You raise your left hand up. “Hmm?” Your palm grazes the tip of his nose, and your eyes widen with excitement, as his widen to try to find out what’s wrong with your hand.
“Oh!” you smile.
Equally thrilled and perplexed, Jungkook moves to give you a high five?
But you dodge him with a grin.
“Uh-oh!”
Your wrist goes slack. Delighted, you do an arm wave, letting it flow through up to your shoulders, through to your trunk, and onwards to your other arm, which flows up and around from your side and around, down your opposite shoulder and through your forearm, fingers gathering to a point and tipping back Jungkook’s open forehead.
Jungkook lets out a spirited laugh that perks up your spine.
As you watch with interest, he furrows his brow and opens his mouth in fake offense. His head bobs forward, and he lets the wave travel throughout his entire body, each muscle isolation smoothing into the next.
He gets up and starts to dance, suddenly going rigid as he starts to pop and lock, hips moving with more precision than you would have anticipated, his baggy clothes suddenly looking sharp, his body halving, and The Hulk slipping out a little, bobbling along with him.
Yugyeom rejoins you, and him, cheering and catching the wave in his chest from Jungkook’s lightning rod of a hand and letting it travel through his black hoodie-covered torso, down to his legs, the frayed rips of his light blue jeans swaying as his muscles take turns relaxing and constricting, traveling back up to his other arm, and down to the hand that is holding two water bottles: one for Jungkook, and one for you.
You giggle and shiver as Yugyeom places the cold plastic against your neck, fingers grazing his as you take over the grip of the bottle.
This is… nice.
“What else can we play??” you ask brightly, letting the bottle linger for a moment before lifting it, and unscrewing the cap. “What other games are there?”
“Should probably slow down on the drinking ones,” Jungkook rightfully decides, as you start to slump again.
He takes a step back to you, and your left cheek rests on his right hip.
Feeling so comfortable, you close your eyes for a moment, missing Yugyeom’s intrigued smirk, and Jungkook’s helpless nose scrunch.
“Leaving so soon?” Yugyeom asks, tossing him the other bottle.
Jungkook looks down and notes your hazy, unfocused eyes, as well as your clumsy fingers still working at the water bottle cap.
“After this water break.”
“Well, swing by again later,” Yugyeom tells you, as your eyes flutter open. “I need to avenge my humiliated friend here. Or get the chance to, at least.”
Jungkook pouts. “Humiliated?”
“Only Jungkook can save himself,” you say, much too haughty for someone who has taken about thirty whole seconds to open a water bottle, “but depending on how tonight goes, I might take you on as another trophy. I mean victim. I mean opponent.”
Yugyeom shakes his head at your self-assuredness, looking over at Jungkook to see if he’s clocking this, and finding he’s only chuckling as you close your eyes and eagerly drink.
“Where’d you find her?” Yugyeom asks, as Jungkook looks back at him.
“Obviously by the dumpsters, given all the trash talk,” Jungkook jokes.
You choke on your water and laugh, the back of your hand rising to your lips as you open your eyes again and catch your breath.
“No, really,” Yugyeom goes on, smiling at you and shoving his hands into his back pockets, chest puffing out with a relaxing breath. “You live on the block?”
You point up at the ceiling. “Ninth floor.”
“Thehermitfloor?” Yugyeom asks, surprised.
You left your left shoulder from Jungkook’s hip and tilt your head toward it. “I crawled out of my cave today. And saw Jungkook on the curb.”
Yugyeom looks over at Jungkook again, who just smiles.
He meets Jungkook’s smile with a pleased chuckle.
“I mean it. Come back later. I still wanna hang.” He narrows his eyes at you and wiggles his eyebrows. “I want a go with the resident flip cup champ.”
You wink at him as you bring the water bottle back to your lips.
Before Yugyeom takes his leave, he reaches out his hand, slightly dampened from the condensation on those ice-cold water bottles, to Jungkook. Their right hands clasp together, and they bring their right shoulders forward to one another, chests bumping together tightly.
Yugyeom slaps Jungkook’s back.
He mumbles something.
Jungkook scoffs with a grin.
And then they part, Yugyeom flashing you another smile before he heads back toward his kitchen table.
Jungkook crouches down and wipes his hand on his thigh. You watch his fingers spreading across. His palm rubbing down toward his knee, and then back up again.
“Oh my god,” he says.
You straighten and snap your eyes to his, feeling caught. “What??”
“I think you’re…”
Jungkook shoots you an open-mouthed, told-you-so smile.
“…havingfun??”
“Absolutely not,” you say, trying your best to sneer.
“You’re smiling!” Jungkook taps his finger on your cheek.
You swat his hand away, giggling and thinking fondly of him teasing those three girls with the cookies. You haven’t really stopped smiling since.
“You’relaaaugh-iiiiing!”
You roll your eyes. “So what if I am?”
Jungkook watches as you screw the water bottle’s cap back on and set it down, next to the right leg of your chair.
“Are you?” he asks gently. “H-having fun?”
He wants you.
To have fun, that is.
He wants you to have fun because you so clearly hadn’t earlier that day. He’s good at fun. At least, he’s always thought he is. In much the same way that Mrs. Chan is good at walnut chicken, and the Jeups are good at cookies, and the Gal brothers are good at ice cream.
He’s always thought that he’s been good at fun. Things have gotten a little busier, as life does. He hasn’t talked to as many people in a while. He definitely hasn’t gotten to swing by Yugyeom’s nearly as often, and he’s missed his check-ins with Yugyeom’s wonderful neighbors. While standing out there on the curb, peering up at your building, he wondered if he’d changed.
But, if you’re having fun, given the day that you’ve had, then that means he hasn’t.
He’s still good at fun.
Maybe if you knew this was kind of about him, it wouldn’t feel so strange for someone to want you to have fun when just a couple of hours ago, the bubble of your perfectly pleasant life burst at the discovery that people who celebrated your birthday, who clinked drinks with you at happy hour, who left you funny sticky notes on your desk, who shared the load when work got overwhelming — people who were supposedly invested in you — didn’t actuallycare all that much.
Do you even deserve it? Fun? When you are so easily discarded?
Jungkook clearly deserves it. He’s only just met you, by some dumpsters no less, and he’s still, inexplicably, trying so hard.
You feel your heavy heart pulling you under.
But then, you catch sight of The Hulk tucked into Jungkook’s pocket.
“I am.” You grin. “I am having a lot of fun.”
He brightens. Sits a little taller.
“Good!” His eyes close nearly all the way, and his two front teeth bunch up his lips. “I knew you were.”
He jumps to his feet. “Feeling up to more games? Maybe those board games?”
The sangria is starting to catch you, mixing with the swirl of emotions bogging down your heavy, heavy heart. You need to do something to let it out.
“Which floor had the karaoke?” you ask. “Six?”
“Quit hogging the mic!”
You spin around and scream the next lyrics at this surly, thin-lipped man, mashing whatever he can into a lour look of extreme disapproval.
The next part of this song is iconic, and masterful. You know each of the vocal parts in the lush swell of the breakdown, but this occasion calls for the throughline, the main melody, to drive the point home.
You put a resonant sting on the syncopated quarter notes that carry into the next measure, tapping your toes on each eighth-note of this manifesto.
“NEH!!! VER GONNA GET IT NEVER GONNA GET IT!”
Exaggerating even more, you pull your lips into a mocking pout, and you descend down the harmonic scale.
“NEHHHH-VER GONNA GET IT—”
Brazen, and drawing a bit of power from the room clapping and laughing around you, you grab the handle of your stapler, aim it at Thin Lips’ cleft chin, and clap the hammer against the anvil on each note.
“WOO-WOO-WOO-WOOOOOOO!!!!”
“THE FUCK—”
“Shik.”
You aren’t sure when Jungkook got up from his seat on the Hans-in-6F’s couch, but now, he’s next to you, arms folded, chest slightly bouncing from holding in his laughter.
Thin-lipped Shik glares at him, and you start circling around Jungkook instead, singing the second half of the breakdown a little softer, but swaying your stapler in the air.
Jungkook’s eyes, which have been following you this whole time, spread out to the rest of the room, everyone chanting and clapping along. “We’re all having a good time.”
“She’s sung like a hundred songs!” Shik protests. “I want a turn!”
At the whiff of vodka that follows, Jungkook negotiates, “One more song, alright?”
He speaks kindly, with the kind of smile that people born with goodness and light at their core can share. But he puffs himself up when he says it. He unfolds his arms, and his chest inflates. He flexes his right hand. Just in case.
Shik sighs. “Fine. But make it something pleasant. She’s been screamingfor the past hour.”
He takes Jungkook’s seat on the couch, seemingly discontent unless he’s taking things from other people.
But it’s fine. The energy is dissipating anyway, En Vogue starting to decrescendo and queue up your next show-stopping performance.
“Hey.” Jungkook’s unflexed right hand lands softly on your shoulder. “Diva.”
You turn and smile at him.
“Wanna do one last song?”
Panting, and jamming your stapler back into your pocket, you slow your dancing feet to a mere sway, pouring your weight to the left, then to the right.
“OK,” you say, mind starting to wander, “but let me pick something different.” Your eyes widen a bit. “Would you wanna sing something with me?”
Jungkook beams. “Yeah!”
As you scroll through your private YouTube playlist of karaoke faves, he stands a little closer. Looks over your shoulder with curiosity. Giggles softly when your thumb tugs at ones that he likes, too.
He smells good.
“Ooh!”
You startle back at his sudden exclamation and bump into his chest.
And he just lets you.
“You, uh, know this one ?” you ask, thumb hovering over a picture of two silhouettes.
“I love that one.”
“Me too.”
A shared glance between you tells you how much.
Jungkook hums. “Then start us off.”
Growing up, you’d wished that the karaoke industry would work faster. Churn out more microchips that held more than just the 70s and 80s ballads that your family sang in the same rotation at every holiday, birthday, christening, graduation, wedding, hell, every Saturday morning, while you each took charge of scrubbing a different part of the house…
Nowadays, karaoke versions of songs aren’t hard to find. Literally every song is essentially at your fingertips. But with every song at your fingertips, it’s becoming harder and harder to find people who know what you know. Like what you like.
As Jungkook reaches for the other mic, still charging on its base, you play the instrumental.
And you raise your mic to your mouth.
“I keep so much of me hidden. Can’t lie. No, I’ve got this pain inside. Most times I never admit it. But with you, no, I don’t want to hide.”
Jungkook bites his lip as you sing. You aren’t the most gymnastic singer, but you have such a pleasant voice. And he’s not the only one who thinks so. A hush has fallen over the entire room, and even Shik is captivated by the way you’ve softened the air around you.
“What’s there all the time. And weighs on my mind. My friends say they listen. But honestly, I don’t think that they get me like you do. You don’t have to try. I come unfolded with the things I hold inside. I have never told no one but you.”
How long have you been singing? Has it been an hour? Two?
Maybe people don’t tire of you as easily as you thought.
Your heart feels a little lighter.
And you let Jungkook fill the space that remains.
“When I’m with you, I feel different.”
In just one line, you discover that if Jungkook’s voice were a drink, it would be a toasted marshmallow mocha. If Jungkook’s voice were a feeling, it would be your bare legs meeting the backseat of the car on a tempered summer day. If Jungkook’s voice were a hand, it would cup your cheek and hold your face up to make sure you didn’t miss the sight of a falling star.
“Like I can’t just be your warmness, oh baby…”
His vocal runs are hurdles and sprints and marathons in equal turns, voice strong and whole as he dips in and out of notes and syllables, playing with time, and tickling your lighter, and lighter, and even lighter, heart.
“I’ve been through some tough things in my life. And it’s so easy to tell you.”
You believe him.
You believe him so strongly that you almost miss your cue to join him again at the chorus, singing an octave apart, matching him note for note, voice bending and gliding a little easier. Freer.
But then everything juststops.
The music. Your voices. The energy.
It all comes to a halt.
Other voices start to overlap. Curses, and concern.
A small circle of bright, invasive light appears. And then another. And another.
They catch people in slices.
Frowns. Fists.
Eyes. No two sets meeting.
Except, somehow, yours and Jungkook’s.
“Everyone OK?” someone asks, as more and more tiny spotlights rove around the room.
“Apparently it’s the whole building!”
“The whole block?”
“Look out the window!”
“Yeah, it’s the whole city!”
Whines start to fill the room. Then groans. Then yells.
“Fuck,” you hear Jungkook whisper, “people are gonna lose it pretty quickly.”
You feel a hand grab yours and yank you toward them.
“It’s me.”
But you knew that.
And now you know that the center of his body, the notch where his pecs and the top of his abs meet and surrender to one another, seems to be a perfect spot for your hand to rest. And your hand resting there makes up for all the blows that your feet and shins and hips take as you fight your way through the distressed crowd.
“Door.”
You don’t see or feel it. Jungkook’s already holding it open for you, leading you through by jutting out his chest and letting you know where he is, which is right there, still curved around your hand.
His hand leaves yours and slides down your side, circling around your back, incidentally following the line of the band of your bra. His forearm pins you to him, and you feel your body bending with his as he shuffles you through to the hall. His chin rests on the top of your head, and your temple cushions against his collarbone.
Baby powder.
Bodes beat against your back, and you take in a sharp breath, your fingers balling into fists. One hand is still safely settled into that notch below Jungkook’s chest. Your other arm is pressed to your side, hugged by Jungkook’s armpit, your hand swinging down and closing around—
“Wait, shit, I’m still holding the mic?”
“It’s OK,” he tells you. “Everything’s OK.”
But something catches his attention.
“Deji?!”
You feel Jungkook’s chest tighten around your fist.
“Deji!!”
“Mr. Jeup?” Jungkook calls out, hoping his voice can meet hers despite the building wails.
“Jungkook-ah?”
“Yes, it’s Jungkook!”
The collective spotlights help Jungkook and Mr. Jeup find each other across the hall, and Jungkook leads him, and you, to a spot close to the staircase railing.
Mr. Jeup has soaked through the collar of his shirt.
“I can’t find Deji,” he says breathlessly. “I’d already been looking for her for a couple of hours, but she got separated from her unnies—” He clicks his teeth. “Always trailing behind.”
You think of the sweet girl slapping Jungkook’s hand away from her basket of cookies.
“We’ll find her.”
From what you can tell, Jungkook’s voice is enough to reassure Mr. Jeup, as the slices of him that you get look more and more relieved.
“Go home and check in with Mrs. Jeup and the girls,” Jungkook tells him. “My friend and I will go up floor by floor. I’ll text you the moment I see her.”
Mr. Jeup shakes his head. “We should’ve just gotten her a phone. Like she wanted.”
“She won’t be far. She knows your rules.” A slice of light catches Jungkook’s smile, as fond as when he had exchanged those cute giggles with her earlier. “And, though it might not seem like it, she always follows them.”
Mr. Jeup nods. “Thanks, Jungkook. Let me know.”
Shades of Mr. Jeup make their way along the railing, following it carefully as he makes his way back downstairs.
“I’ll formally introduce you another time,” he says apologetically.
Jungkook can’t be so hospitable, or demented, to be thinking about a formal introduction in this fraught situation.
But then you think of how he and Deji teased each other. Their familiar, funny way. How she gave him four cookies as a treat.
Or a payment.
A placid smile spreads across your face. “You know where she is, don’t you?”
Jungkook chuckles.
“C’mon.”
“When will it come back on??”
“We wanna watch!”
“It was just about to get to the good part!”
“Give it a few more minutes,” a voice, more mature than the others, calls out. “Give the backup generators a little bit of time to kick in.”
“They’re not going to,” another older voice says in response. “It’s been too long. I’m betting they’re down as well.”
“Stop it!” the first hisses. “You’ll scare them!”
As predicted, the younger voices start to clamor.
“What??”
“So when will the power come back on?”
“I’m getting hot!”
“Me too! I’m starting to sweat!”
“Eeeewww!”
“Helloooooo!”
Jungkook calls brightly from the hallway through the opening door, slowly revealing a group of kids in the living room, and a couple on the couch, outlined against a soft half-sphere of candlelight.
“Yon! Yeo!”
“Jungkookie!”
The woman on the left jumps up from the couch, and the woman on the right just nods.
You sigh softly when, in the center back of the group of kids, all of them lying on top of each other, having kicked off their blankets and facing a blank, white bed sheet hanging on a cleared clothing rack, you see Deji, sitting with her legs criss-crossed.
And next to a boy.
Jungkook lets go of your hand, but not without glancing at you to make sure it’s OK to.
You smile and nod, lingering in the doorway and watching him tiptoe in the gaps between squishy, teeny arms and legs to crouch down next to Deji, and this boy.
Deji gives Jungkook a high five, and you smirk to yourself as he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, sighing with relief as he starts to type.
The woman who waved gets up and walks over to you, leaning on a bookshelf by the door and folding her arms.
“I’m Yon,” she replies. “And that’s Yeo.”
She jerks her thumb behind her.
Staring straight ahead, Yeo takes another sip of wine.
You introduce yourself and say, “Did you set this up for the kids?”
Yon nods. “Toy Story 3. We were almost at the incinerator scene.”
Your eyes pop open, and you look over to the kid who cheered about the scene earlier.
“That was the good part??”
Yon cackles and says, “Seojun over there has a dark sense of humor.”
The other kids have successfully been distracted, settling into other lively conversations, giggling and playing games with each other, and with Jungkook.
But Seojun quietly breaks free from the group and makes her way to the couch. She plops down next to Yeo, the two of them chatting quietly.
Yon watches them affectionately. “So does Yeo. Kindred spirits, those two.”
They look so serious. But there are moments. Eyebrow flickers. Chuckles. And, throughout, a warm smile of recognition of something deeper. A somewhat somber but understanding of the world around them.
Seojun pauses. Stumbles. Gets whatever she wants to say out. Yeo seems to ponder it, and then says something back. Then, Seojun and Yeo look away from each other, and Yeo strokes her hair once as Seojun hides a smile.
You didn’t realize how many kids lived in the building. But you’re usually out before they’re up, and back in long after they’re asleep.
“Kind of you to host something kid-friendly.”
“To be honest, these have kind of been little test runs.”
Yon’s voice is cautious and small, but happy.
“We want to adopt,” she admits.
Her eyes are pillowy soft as they scan over those tiny, laughing faces.
“The kids around here are so sweet. Good families. Good parents. They don’t judge. And they’ve given us so many smiles. It’d be nice to share our lives like this all the time. Especially with a little one who really needs it.”
You can feel how momentous Yon’s heart must be. Her words surround you. Inflate you. Lift you up.
“Well,” you sigh, impressed, and a little sheepish, at her outpouring of love, “the little ones who get to join your family are quite lucky.”
Yon lets out a deep, encouraged sigh. “Thanks for that. Nice to hear something positive, y’know? It’s been… hard.”
You regretfully agree.
“Anyway,” Yon replies, “how do you know Jungkook? Are you friends with Yugyeom, too? That’s how we met him.”
“I, um—”
Desk.
Office.
Job.
“Well, I just met him today.” You blink. You can’t believe you just met him today.
Yon smiles, recognizing your dazed look.
“He makes quite an impression, doesn’t he?”
Your eyes land on him as he grins and throws up a peace sign while taking a picture with Deji, and laughing with the boy, who is starting to take interest in The Hulk bobblehead in Jungkook’s pocket.
“I’ve known him since he was a skinny teen,” Yon reflects. “His parents used to own this building, but they sold the property when they retired. He’s still here all the time, though.”
She smiles.
“It’s been a little while since we’ve gotten to see him. But it’s always so nice when we do. He just makes things… better.”
Jungkook notes the boy’s gaze, and his bent fingers reach into that pocket to pull The Hulk’s head out, flashing The Hulk’s cute little grimace, to Deji and the boy’s delight.
But when the boy reaches out for it, Jungkook frowns and leans back, not letting the boy take The Hulk out of his pocket completely, choosing instead to close the flap of his pocket over The Hulk’s black eyes, tapping the pocket in thanks for safekeeping.
You giggle.
Maybe that’s the secret to Jungkook.
To all of this.
Being a kid at heart.
Yes, things have been hard.
Thingsarehard.
But they haven’t been hard just today. And not just for you. Or Yon and Yeo. Or Shik. Or Mr. Jeup. Or any of the people in your building, on your block, in this city.
Everyone is shuffling around, lost in the dark.
But it isn’t your fault.
It isn’t anyone’sfault.
Maybe that’s just how it is sometimes.
Maybe that’s how it is all the time.
There’s always more that you could do to fight against the darkness. To make things better.
But maybe there’s also more time for selcas, and singing, and sangria.
Fun, kind things that you could do with others. And for yourself.
Maybe that’s the way to start.
Yon’s face suddenly pulls together tightly. And you follow her gaze to your hip.
“Why do you have a stapler in your pocket?”
“Hey!” Jungkook exclaims, popping up beside you and patting Yon’s back.
“Hey,” Yon says warmly, leaning in for a hug. “We were just getting to know each other.” She smirks. “Just as it seems the two of youare.”
Jungkook grins at you. “The two of us have been having fun.”
You smile.
“Oooh,funnnn,” Yon says, her voice waving up and down as the word trails from her lips.
She smirks at Jungkook.
“Then don’t worry about Deji. She’s just fine.”
And she is. Deji and the boy are in their own little bubble, voices hushed, bodies crouched and facing each other, smiles mirroring.
“Tell Mr. Jeup that I can walk her down if he wants,” Yon says.
“You can’t stay mad at me forever Y/N,” Jungkook sighed as he continued to follow you around.
Your head shook back to Jungkook as you walked into the bedroom, hearing footsteps following behind you. You had lost count of how many times you had listened to him apologise, desperate to try and fix things after accidentally making a big hole for himself earlier in the day.
Just as you went to close the door behind you, Jungkook slid in through the door to join you in the room. “Jungkook, go away,” you tried to tell him, but his head shook, refusing to leave you alone without you at least hearing him out on things.
“Just give me two minutes,” he requested, watching you step back as soon as he stepped forward towards you. “I just need you to let me explain to you how sorry I am.”
Your head nodded, but before you listened to Jungkook, you excused yourself to the toilet for a couple of minutes. Jungkook sat down on the bed as you went into the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind you before opening up the cupboard door.
You looked past your toiletries that were on the shelf, reaching all the way to the back where your stick of lip balm was. As soon as you reached for it, your smile grew, walking across to the mirror with it as you took the lid off, making sure to apply a thick layer of balm to your lisp before returning to the bedroom, with the balm in your pocket.
“Can I talk now?” Jungkook asked you as soon as you appeared, patting the space beside him on the bed for you to sit down on. You kept your distance from Jungkook as he cleared his throat, glancing across at you. “You know how sorry I am, don’t you?”
“I don’t get why you had to be so mean to me Jungkook, it was so uncalled for.”
His head nodded in agreement with you, “I just wasn’t thinking, I took my frustrations out on you and that wasn’t fair. All you were trying to do was help me, and I threw it back in your face and made you feel like rubbish at the same time too.”
You continued to sit and listen as Jungkook explained himself, nodding your head as you paid close attention to him. If you were honest, you weren’t mad about him any longer, but you were enjoying listening to him grovel back across to you.
As soon as his two minutes were up, Jungkook stopped speaking, anxiously looking across to you. As the corners of your mouth turned up, he got a little bit more hopeful, edging slightly closer towards you, hoping that you had forgiven him.
He was still a little apprehensive as he stared across to meet your eyes. “Can we move on from this?” Jungkook asked you, finally allowing himself to relax when your head nodded in reply to him, wanting to do exactly the same.
“Why don’t you let me do something to prove to you how much I’ve forgiven you?” You offered, “why don’t I give you a kiss to let you know that all is forgotten?”
“A kiss? Well, I would definitely not say no to that.”
You shuffled yourself a little bit closer to Jungkook, “I hate when we argue like this, I wish that it would never happen between us.”
Just as Jungkook nodded in agreement, you leant forwards and pressed a kiss to his lips. Your smile was wide as you kissed Jungkook, quickly feeling his hands grab your shoulders and push you back, wiping his mouth with his hand.
“What the hell is that on your lips? Is this some sort of wind-up right now?”
Your laughter was loud as you watched Jungkook scrub at his mouth, desperate to get the taste of the balm away as soon as he possibly could. His eyes glared at you as you watched on, shaking your head at how dramatic he was.
“Do you not like it?” You teased, “it’s a new balm that I bought not too long ago. Take a look at it, you never know, you might be able to get used to it.”
As you brought the balm from your pocket, Jungkook took it from you and began to read through the label. His eyes narrowed as he read over what taste the balm was, noticing a picture of lemons on the very end of the wrapper too.
He threw the balm across the room as you continued to chuckle, grabbing your shoulders again and pinning you down on the bed. His expression was a picture as you stared up at Jungkook, knowing that you had drawn yourself level with him.
“What’s wrong? Is the balm not your cup of tea,” you innocently smiled, pretending to be clueless as to why Jungkook looked so disgruntled.
“You are one evil woman; do you know that?”
“I’m just getting a little bit of revenge,” you chimed, knowing that Jungkook couldn’t argue with you. “Just reminding you of how horrible I can be if you want to be horrible to me. I happen to quite like the taste of the lip balm anyway.”
“If I ever see you wearing that again then I might just disown you,” Jungkook promised you, “I’ve never tasted anything as gross in my entire life Y/N.”
His reaction had your sides hurting, you knew that Jungkook wouldn’t like it, but even he had managed to surprise you by just how much he disliked it, still liking his lips as the taste haunted him on the tip of his bottom lip.
“Will you be as mean to me next time?” You asked Jungkook, “or will you be nice now?”
His head shook at the smug smile that was on your face, “I’ll be nice, if it means that I won’t have to taste that stupid lip balm again. Where did you even get that from? I mean who decides to make lemon flavoured lip balm?”
“I’ve kept it well hidden, knowing that it would come in handy one day,” you informed him, “and it definitely did.”
His eyes rolled at how well you had managed to get back at him. “So, this is why you stropped off to the bedroom too? You didn’t need the toilet, did you? You just went into the bathroom to get your weapon of choice.”
Your head nodded as everything began to fall together for Jungkook, disappointed in himself more than anything else that he hadn’t noticed that you were up to something, too focused on trying to put things right and apologise to you.
“If I ever see that lip balm again, I’ll scream,” Jungkook assured you.
“It doesn’t even taste that bad.”
His eyes widened as you spoke, “I like most things Y/N, but that was absolutely grim. How are you laying there so comfortably knowing that you’ve got lemon lip balm on your lips? How are you not grossed out?”
Your shoulders shrugged in reply to him, “I think it tastes pretty sweet, mainly because it reminded you that I’m not someone to be messed with. Your face definitely made putting on lemon lip balm a worthwhile experience.”
“I’ve really got to be on my toes around you, what else have you got up your sleeve?” Jungkook enquired.
Your head snapped around as yet another slam of a table tennis racquet against the table made you jump, spinning around as Taehyung bounced around on one side of the table, with Jin confidently smirking at the other end of the table, managing to pick up yet another point despite Taehyung’s best efforts.
“I give up,” Taehyung huffed, placing his racquet down and stepping back from the table, “I swear you’ve got some sort of cheat up your sleeve that none of us know about.”
“What are you idiots up to?” You shouted across from where you sat down on the field, “are you guys really getting this competitive over a game of table tennis out of everything?”
“We’re not as your boyfriend is Y/N!”
The eyes of the figure beside you quickly widened, “hey, don’t bring me into this, I’m innocent.”
Your hand pushed against Jungkook’s arm gently as the boys quickly told you how he had been acting throughout the holiday when you hadn’t been looking. You knew exactly how competitive Jungkook could be, having been on the receiving end of many games that you played.
Instead of join in this game though, Jungkook was busy tickling the tummy of Bam who sat between the two of you. “If you wait until after dinner, I’ll give you another game Jin and beat your ass.”
“You wish that you could beat me.”
Your head shook as yet another back and forth between the two boys. Both were adamant that they could win given the chance, deciding that after dinner they would have the ultimate match to decide who really was the best at table tennis.
“Don’t go crying to Y/N when I beat you, she won’t be able to help you, Kook.”
“He’s not going to win,” Jungkook whispered into your ear as Jin walked away from you both, “there is no way that I’m letting him, and his stupid ego beat me at a game of table tennis.”
“You sound pretty confident,” you noted, poking gently against your arm, “I’m sure that Jin probably wants to defeat you and your competitive ego to you know.”
A sharp intake of breath came from Jungkook, “me? An ego, I just know that I’m better than him.”
Your head shook at how competitive Jungkook still was, “either way I’m sure that whichever one of you ends up winning this game will probably brag about it forever.”
Whilst most people started to get stuck in with preparing dinner soon after, with Bam following behind you too, Jungkook decided his time was better spent at the table tennis table. After pressing it up against the wall to bounce the ball off of, he rallied and rallied making sure that he was prepared for his match with Jin.
When you came and found him to let him know that dinner was ready, a sigh came from him, reluctantly placing the racket down and slumping behind you to the table.
“I was really getting into the swing of things there,” Jungkook proudly told you as he walked.
“I’m sure that Jin will be much stiffer competition than a wall though.”
Jungkook’s head shook as he threw his arm across your shoulders, walking to the two seats that were waiting for the two of you at the end of the table. Even as the two of you sat down, you could tell that Jungkook was glancing across at Jin, making sure that he was aware that Jungkook had been practicing.
As soon as the two of you sat down, Bam snuck underneath the table where the two of you were, looking between you both. With Yoongi placing the plates of food down at the table, Jungkook ran his hand over the top of Bam’s head, promising him that he’d be fed too once you had everything sorted for you and the boys.
It had been the same routine for you since the start of the trip, having joined halfway through their holiday, you slipped into their habits and followed exactly what they did, offering your help wherever you felt that you could slot in.
Throughout your meal, Jungkook’s legs bounced excitedly, making sure that he stayed agile in his seat. Several times you watched him swerve left and right or pretend that his chopsticks were a racquet and swing for his food.
In the end you could only laugh to yourself at how eager he was. “Can’t you just eat like everyone else does?” You asked him, watching him hit again against the side of his glass.
“I’ve got to get in the zone Y/N,” Jungkook explained to you, pressing his hands to his temples, “this is a big match in case you’ve forgotten.”
Your head shook back to Jungkook, knowing that Jin was watching the two of you. “You remember that Jin is your elder, right? Don’t you think that maybe you should let him win, I mean no one wants to lose to someone that’s younger than them, do they?”
Jungkook scoffed in reply to you, he didn’t care that Jin was his elder, all he cared about was winning. Throughout the trip he had managed to show off how good he was at so many things, and this was no exception for him too.
“I’ll win, for you,” Jungkook whispered across into your ear. “I kept telling you that I’d do something special on this trip, I’ll make that something special beating Jin at table tennis then we’ll get bragging rights over the rest of them for the rest of the trip.”
“You do remember that I’m leaving tomorrow, right?” You chuckled, “you might get bragging rights but I’m just going back home so you can enjoy your victory all by yourself here.”
“I still can’t believe you’re going,” Jungkook sighed with his expression dropping, “are you sure that there’s no way that you can convince your boss to give you some more time off?”
You had been lucky to get just a few days off to be able to drive up and explore the house that the boys were staying at. The last thing that you were able to do was push your luck, having got yourself in trouble before with your boss for hanging out with the boys and not doing your work properly.
With you going tomorrow, Jungkook was more confident than ever that he was going to win and round off the little trip that you’d had together perfectly. If he had one more chance to be able to show off to you, Jungkook was absolutely going to take it.
And as a small groan came from underneath the table, Jungkook knew that someone else agreed with him too. “Bam will be on my side,” Jungkook laughed as Bam’s wide eyes looked up, “he knows that I can do it.”
“He’s on ball boy duties when you end up sending the ball flying,” you smiled, running your hand over the top of Bam’s head, “when Jin can’t return the balls that you send down to him.”
“I’ll have him running all over the place,” Jungkook assured you, “it might be the table tennis match of the century.”
Your eyes rolled, “I’m sure the production team feel very lucky to be filming it.”
“They should, it’s a once in a lifetime for everyone.”
After a fateful day in an Egyptian tomb, things have never been the same for Jungkook, or you, after a certain vengeful god decided to make him its fist.
Genre: Angst, Actiony, Romance, F2L UWU
Pairing: Moon Knight!Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Swearing,Violence, Blood, Death of Major and Minor Characters. Body Horror.Talk of what its like to die.SMUT.
Word Count: 1179
Note:Jungkook will not be having DID in this fic. Khonshu has had many avatars over the millenia and I’m pretty sure Marc is the only one that has DID. Although there will be some slight overlap between Marc and Jungkook such as mercenary work.
I apologise for my shitty photoshop, my partner who does freelance design tried to help. Needless to say photoshoping is hard. In fact other than Jungkook, my partner did this whole little banner.
Jungkook had just wrestled his assailant off him when he saw your neck get sliced open by the undead thing’s nails. It was ugly, jagged, like it had been trying to tear your throat out. Time seemed to stop then, when the thing let go, your body falling to the ground as he just watched in shock.
“Y/N!”
This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening.
And then time kickstarted again and he was seeing red. He jumped up to his feet and grabbed the creature closest to him and thrust it face first into the wall, its head exploding from the shear force behind the action, covering his hand in viscera that splattered on to him as well. The next one, the one with your blood on its hands leaped onto his back, trying to rip and tear its way through his suit but failing. Jungkook flipped it over his shoulder and onto the floor, stomping into its chest cavity, crushing its heart beneath his boot. For extra measure, he took one of his crescent blades and hacked at the thing’s neck until it had separated from its body.
His breathing was ragged when he finally stopped, dropping his blade to rush over to where you lay unmoving. His mask dissolved away.
“No no no.” His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do before pulling up into his arms, he called forth Khonshu’s power to heal and watched as… nothing happened. “Khonshu! Why isn’t it working? Heal her please!” He pleaded.
“She is beyond my reach, my son.”
“Bullshit. You brought me back. Bring her back too. Bring her back!”
“That’s because I chose you for my avatar. I can only have one at a time.”
“Then make her your avatar! Take this power and bring her back to me!”
“… You know she would never agree to that.”
Jungkook wailed, holding you tighter and trying again to revive you, tears falling freely as he pressed his head to yours, “Please, please, if there are any other gods out there, any listening, please… she didn’t deserve this. I’m begging you, bring her back. I’ll do whatever you ask, just don’t let this be the end.”
——————————————————————————
“You poor little human, touched by Khonshu. Slain during your quest to keep humanity safe before it even began. Those guardians don’t know friend from foe.” Came a regal voice.
You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a lounge of some kind. Across from you sat a goddess with a lioness head. They were either Hathor or Sekhmet. The problem of knowing which was in front of you currently was that they were essentially two halves of one whole sharing a body.
“Where am I?”
“This is a vessel travelling outside space and time, inside theOthervoid and you, little human, are dead.”
“I kind of gathered that.”
The goddess chuckled, “We have an offer for you, so you can return. We are Hathor and Sekhmet, goddesses of love, war, healing, destruction, transition, vengeance, protector of pharaohs in war and death. The eye of Ra. Normally we keep out of human affairs but we cannot risk Ammit being released. So, we are in need of a warrior. Bind yourself to us to protect this world and the one you love, be our hands and eyes in the mortal world.” The goddess stood and held her hand out to you, “In exchange for your life, do you swear to love and protect those who are worthy and to avenge them should they come to harm?”
You reached for her hand, so much larger than your own, “I do.”
——————————————————————————
Light filled your vision, much like when Khonshu had given you his sight. With a gasp you pulled air back into your empty lungs. You could feel the gash across your neck stitch itself shut. You were still getting your bearings so it took you a second to realise you were being clutched in Jungkook’s arms, he was quaking, sobbing. You raised a hand onto his shoulder, getting his attention. Jungkook startled, pushing you away just enough to get a good look at you. And you him.
His suit was covered in blood, whose you didn’t know, his mask was down. His face was red and blotchy from crying, hair a mess and his eyes not glowing.
“Y/N! Oh thank the gods! Whichever one answered my prayer. Khonshu said there was nothing we could do and I- I- Y/N… Don’t you dare die on me again.”
He pulled you into him again, squeezing you tightly, using your breathing as an anchor for his volatile emotions.
You wrapped your arms around him, “It’s okay. I’m back, I’m here.”
“I see you have become the avatar to the Eye of Ra, little starling… or should I say little sun?”
Strange, you still couldn’t see him.
“Honestly, cousin, I can’t believe you let your avatar’s lover die like that. Look at the poor boy, he’s shaken beyond belief. Although, I doubt you would understand. You’re still a child.” You jumped a little when you saw your goddess appear, arms crossed and a playful smirk on her features. “Little human, what would you like to wear as our warrior?”
“Something practical I guess.”
“So be it.”
The goddess clicked her fingers and Jungkook let go so you could stand. Red linen snaked around you like how Jungkook’s bandages did when forming his suit. But unlike his suit, your arms were left bare from fabric, instead adorned with golden braces. You had no cape or mask either. Instead you were in a red thigh length tunic with slits up to the hip, over that you had a type of kilt Egyptian men wore in the ancient times, on your hips was a golden belt with two Khopesh blades. And luckily your legs were covered in a pair of loose fitting white trousers, similar to sweatpants but… better was the only way you could put it. It was like a mix of the modern and the ancient past had formed your attire.
“Wow, I’m almost jealous,” Jungkook praised, “but your eyes aren’t glowy… Is that not compulsory?”
“I guess Khonshu has a flare for the dramatic,” you offered, “now come on, we have a jaded ex to stop.”
“Be careful, little starling, Sekhmet is not a goddess to be trifled with. Her bloodlust is legendary,” Khonshu’s voice echoed in your head as you made your way deeper into the tomb, Jungkook close behind.
You were aware of this already. In myth Sekhmet was made from Ra’s anger at humanity. You had read how Sekhmet decimated humanity and ignored Ra’s orders to stop. How she had to be tricked into drinking beer for her rampage to end. And how, for a time, she left the gods in anger at being tricked, making Ra’s power diminish and Thoth had to persuade her to return.
You took hold of your Khopesh, which were lighter than you expected, and prayed that Hathor would be the one guiding you through this upcoming fight.
——————————————————————————
Note: So this version of Hathor/Sekhmet is different from the Marvel comic depiction of them and is hopefully more in line with actual Egyptian mythology. I’m no expert so if you guys have any useful tid bits or nuggets of info that’d be great :)
After a fateful day in an Egyptian tomb, things have never been the same for Jungkook, or you, after a certain vengeful god decided to make him its fist.
Genre: Angst, Actiony, Romance, F2L UWU
Pairing: Moon Knight!Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Swearing,Violence, Blood, Death of Major and Minor Characters. Body Horror.Talk of what its like to die.SMUT.
Word Count: 1430
Note:Jungkook will not be having DID in this fic. Khonshu has had many avatars over the millenia and I’m pretty sure Marc is the only one that has DID. Although there will be some slight overlap between Marc and Jungkook such as mercenary work.
I apologise for my shitty photoshop, my partner who does freelance design tried to help. Needless to say photoshoping is hard. In fact other than Jungkook, my partner did this whole little banner.
You woke with a start thanks to Jungkook’s angry shout of:
“Fuck!”
You looked around and he wasn’t in the bedroom. In fact he sounded like he was downstairs. You rifled through the draws and threw on a baggy t-shirt and a pair of boxers before making your way down. You padded around until you found him in the kitchen, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped the counter. He was shaking.
“Kook, you okay?”
He shook his head, “I have to go. Khonshu said Harrow is up to something. Something that could endanger every living soul.”
Your brows furrowed and you moved to comfort him, hand resting on his shoulder, “Where do we have to go?”
“We? Y/N, I can’t have you in that kind of danger again.”
“Yes, we. Where you go, I go. We’re a package deal whether you like it or not. So, where does Khonshu want us?”
He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, “Egypt.”
The air seemed to turn stale. You hadn’t thought you’d be returning to the country so soon. Maybe in a couple of years after having time to wrestle with your grief and trauma. But if lives were on the line, you were willing to fuck up your recovery schedule.
“Okay then, any idea what he’s doing there?”
“He’s searching for a banished goddess. Ammit the Devourer. According to Khonshu, she’s entombed somewhere not even the gods know but Harrow got his hands on an ancient compass type thing that leads the way to it. So he has a head start on us.”
You took a moment to process what you heard before responding, “I still have some contacts with local dig teams in various cities. If Harrow is finding a lost tomb he’s going to need trained locals with the correct equipment.”
“So that gets us where?”
“It’ll give us an opportunity to catch up. If I find the team’s headquarters we can ‘volunteer’ as an extra pair of hands.”
Jungkook sagged and gave you a weak smile, “I guess you’re the brains,” he kissed your forehead, “and I’m the brawn.”
“Damn right, you book us a flight, I’ve got some phone calls to make.”
You made your way back upstairs to find your phone in your discarded clothes.
———————————————————————————————————–
Jungkook ducked his head into the bedroom where you had been making various phone calls. You had managed to locate the team Harrow was using and, using a fake name, they gladly accepted your offer to volunteer.
“I’ve gotten us a flight to Cairo booked for about two hours from now. Care to follow me down to the basement?”
You looked at him quizzically, “What’s in the basement?”
“Stuff. Just come with me please.”
You butt shuffled to the edge of the bed, stood and followed him down to the basement. What you saw there took your breath away. A statue of Khonshu was against the back wall, around it were crates overflowing with various artefacts, ones you had last seen in a certain temple.
“Kinda. He said I would need this stuff so I had his blessing really. I’ll return it all when he retires me.”
“Jungkook, did you loot Khonshu’s temple?!”
“How did you even get them here?”
“Y/N, I was a merc. I have connections too and not necessarily savoury ones at that.”
You groaned and rubbed your face, as an archaeologist, this was your worst nightmare.
“Anyway this stuff isn’t what I bought you down here for.” He walked over to a box, not a crate, and searched through it, “ah, there it is.” He got up and turned to you, a kevlar vest in his hands. “If you’re insistent on coming with me, you’re gonna need armour. Sadly I don’t have a secondary ceremonial suit so this is the best I can provide you. Oh, and I’ll give you one of my guns too, not gonna have you defenceless.”
You took the vest from him and stared at it. If he had worn this six months ago, would you even be in this situation? Most likely yes because Isaac would’ve just aimed somewhere else. Like maybe his thigh like Isaac did to you. Or maybe he would’ve dispatched Jungkook quicker with a headshot. You shook those thoughts out of your head, no point dwelling on the past.
“We better get ready to go, we’re going to have to pack light I guess. You better let me look through all this stuff when we get back.”
“Of course, baby, I don’t even know what half this shit is because unlike you and Big Bird, I can’t read hieroglyphics.”
———————————————————————————————————–
Turns out Jungkook had called in a favour to get you a non-commercial plane to Cairo. It was hot, no longer used to the heat you felt you were going to melt under the sun, especially with the kevlar vest between layers. It would be a lie to say you weren’t nervous, you did all you could to not look it though as a jeep pulled up to the airstrip to collect you. They were locals so you didn’t have to worry about them knowing you. If it had been Harrow’s men that would have been a different story.
The ride to the excavation site made your stomach twist and turn because you knew that when you arrived you would be recognised. That violence would break out and these civilians would get caught in the crossfire. You needed to think of a way to minimise casualties. You just hoped you got there in time.
“Hey,” You whispered to Jungkook, getting his attention, “can you call the suit during the day?”
“Yeah, luckily it’s not tied to a day-night cycle.”
You nodded, a little relieved, “we have to keep as many of these people safe as possible. Keep the fight away from them.”
Jungkook hummed in agreement.
Discreetly, you checked your gun, finger off the trigger. The safety was off and the barrel loaded already. This time you’d make sure not to hesitate, a mistake you wouldn’t be making again.
———————————————————————————————————–
The jeep pulled up outside the excavation site, you saw the entrance to the tomb had been cleared. Shit, that meant they were already in. You jumped out, swiftly followed by Jungkook who called forth the suit immediately. In reaction, the locals quite rightly drove away, frightened. Well that was one way to keep them safe.
“If this was built to trap a goddess… we’re gonna have to tread carefully. Follow my lead, Kook.”
You held up your gun, at the ready as you entered. Slowly, carefully, you crept through the hall until you got to what appeared to be the centre of a maze. Looking around you wracked your brain for a meaning to it. You noted the possible exits and how the halls beyond them seemed to curve.
“I think I know what’s going on here, but just in case I’m wrong, can you ask Khonshu if he knows?”
“It’s the eye of Horus. I shall show you the way, little starling.”
Oh, you guess he didn’t need to talk through Jungkook. But it was confirmation you were correct. Jungkook took the lead, as he was the only one that could see the god. Apparently these gods existed in a separate dimension and only their avatars could see them. So yet again, gods were aliens.
You came to another room, hieroglyphics covering the walls and took a moment to decipher them.
“I uh, don’t want to freak you out, but I think we’re going to encounter some uh, underdead guardians-” Gunfire cut you off and you both turned in the direction it came from. “And that sounds like the way not to go.”
You watched Jungkook look off into the corner of the room and, after a second, nod.
“Khonshu says there’s another exit up there,” he pointed to a ledge you hadn’t spotted before wrapping an arm around your waist and jumping up onto it.
You would never get used to his strength, you were disorientated for a moment but Jungkook took your arm leading the way. Both of you failed to notice the shadowy figures that scuttled the walls behind you until it was too late. Something gripped your other arm and snatched you away as the other tackled Jungkook to the ground. You went to scream out but something cold scratched across your throat. Your blood spilled forth, drenching your neck.
Just like Jungkook had described to you the night before, you faded away so quickly. The last thing you heard was his anguished cry.
Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Death of Major and Minor Characters. Smut. Body Horror. Talk of what its like to die. (Will be updated with future chapters)
Summary: After a fateful day in an Egyptian tomb, things have never been the same for Jungkook, or you, after a certain vengeful god decided to make him its fist.
“Jungkook got new jeans last week and he looks so adorable in them that you can’t help but want to play with him.”
Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre:Smut, established relationship!AU
Warnings: sub!Jungkook, dom!Reader, mommy kink, vibrating buttplug, orgasm control, edging, ruined orgasm, multiple orgasms (m.recieving), dry humping, use of a wooden spanking paddle, finger sucking, Jungkook is a needy bunny, the softest aftercare
Worcount:4.8k
a/n:This is without a doubt the aaol!couple. Also blame @tipsydipsydo for the creation of this, because she sent me a picture of Kook in those jeans and I spiralled
“Play with me.”
That was the first thing Jungkook said to you this morning.
It was not long that he was stripped naked and with his legs pulled to his chest, feeling breathless and giggling the entire time you prepared him for his favourite game. Jungkook ended up with a vibrating buttplug lodged inside of him. Silicone, black, with a sleek tip. You made him lower his legs afterwards and then close them. Then you told him to sit up. Jungkook still thought that you would continue your play at that point because you often made him sit on his buttplugs as it made him squirm so perfectly. He soon realised with horror yet delight that you were not planning on continuing your little game as you made him put his clothes back on and then left the room to take a shower instead.
It left Jungkook squirming on the bed because he watched you take the remote control to his plug with you.
So he waited with bated breath and his cock straining against his briefs for the moment he would feel those sweet vibrations.
But they didn’t come. As a matter of fact they didn’t come at breakfast either. Or later when he ate you out on your yoga mat. Or even later when you took him shopping because you wanted a new pair of lingerie. Jungkook knew that you were only going lingerie shopping to rile him up. You even made him follow you into the dressing room with you and help you try the pieces on. His plug however, stayed passiv. It frustrated Jungkook and he ended up sucking on your breast so needily that he bruised it accidentally. Didn’t work, the sweet vibrations he so deeply craved stayed away. Jungkook also ended up buying you every single piece of lingerie you liked, but he would have done so with or without a plug up his ass. He just really enjoys treating you.
Jungkook was restless on the way home because you kept the remote on your lap and fumbled with it. He could watch you graze your thumb over the button ever so often and it drove him insane. The vibrations however didn’t come.
Jungkook grew almost mad in the elevator to the penthouse, seeking your touch as he pressed his body against yours and nuzzled his face into your shoulder. You hugged him back in an instance.
“Did you forget mommy?” he asked shyly.
“Forget what Bunny? That?” you showed him the remote.
“Yes”, he whispered and shivered in your arms.
“No, I didn’t forget”, you said nonchalantly and let the remote disappear back into your pocket.
Jungkook squeezed your body in a desperate hug, but the vibrations didn’t come.
“Jungkook lets out a breathy moan, fisting the sheets. His breathing doesn’t calm down after he made the sound, his eyes race behind his eyelids. You know what that means and it turns you on so much. Your touch was enough to help Jungkook have a wet dream. Your sweet bunnyboy is getting fucked in his dreams while in reality you are the one helping him with keeping the sensations as realistic as possible.
Alternatively: Jungkook wakes after dreaming of getting pegged, only to realise that his dream is quite literally his sweet reality.”
a/n: I have to stop thinking up all those pegging scenarios, it’s not good for my health also this is obviously the aaol!couple, duh. Enjoy my sweeties, because I sure as hell did (I am serious, this is one of those stories I wrote in one sitting because I was feeling it so much)
You wake before your fiancé, enjoying the tranquil silence of your bedroom. His breathing is calm this morning, audible enough for you to find comfort in it. In the distance the traffic is busy, but with your windows closed, it sounds like faraway whispers of a city.
It is brighter than usual in your room. You know it to be the product of last night’s laziness when you deemed it too exhausting to fully close the blinds. You don’t particularly mind that the sunlight peeks into your room. You feel refreshed and your eyes are vast of heaviness. Perhaps in some weird way, the light feels nice to have. Like this you are able to look at your love’s handsome face.
Jungkook is facing you, resting on his stomach while his cheek is squished against his pillow. His lips are parted and against his flawless skin his dark lashes rest quite beautifully. You think he looks eternal like this, reaching out to caress his cheek with the back of your hand. His skin is soft and slightly cold. You blame it on the bedroom air and his entire back being out.
“Look at you sweets, all out of the covers”, you murmur under your breath as you make sure to tug him in, “there we go, now you’re warm again”, you say and give his ear a soft kiss.
Then you rest back again. Jungkook looks happier and cosier now. He even goes so far as to smile in his sleep.
“My handsome man”, you whisper, tracing his face with your fingertip. You are so lucky. You have truly hit the jackpot of life.
Jungkook nuzzles into the pillow and licks over his lips. He looks so peaceful that you feel sleepiness overcome you. You scoot closer and allow your fingers to find their resting spot on his upper back. Then you close your eyes, allowing that sweet sleepiness to wash over your body.
summary⇢what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way. pairing⇢jungkook/reader word count⇢ 12.9k ☠️ rating⇢18+ genre⇢ smut | humor | college!au | fuckboi!au | fratboy!au warnings⇢ sexual content, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), masturbation, dirty talk, everybody is still pissed tf off and consequently has an attitude, but then also everyone is soft , drinking/partying, taehyung gets done dirty and also can’t tell his disney princesses apart, seokjin mulls over his many career options
a/n⇢ THE END IS FINALLY HERE i’m so relieved, but also so, so sad. thank you to everyone who joined me on this long, goofy journey and encouraged me to keep going with all of your wonderful messages and feedback, and thank you to everyone who took the time to welcome my baby into their lives and love her as much as i do! i truly appreciate every single one of you beyond words and i only hope you feel your time spent with me was time well spent. thank you, thank you, thank you
THE WAY I HOLLERED WHEN I SAW THIS UPDATE!!!!!!! Seriously this fic had me laughing so hard and hurting so bad and hot so fast. It is EVERYTHING and I’m so sad it’s over. OC is definitely one of a kind. Looooove Ego!
“Jungkook moveeee,” You tried pushing his head off your chest but he refused to move that big head of his.
You was laying in his bed, happy that he decided to spend his day with you. You two been in bed all morning just cuddling under his bundles of cover. His body was laid on top of yours, his head laying on the top of your chest. You looked down at his face to see a sly smirk on his face. You giggled and stroked threw his hair while he hummed in comfort.
“Why should I move when it feels so niceee?~” Jungkook snuggled deeper in your chest, wrapping his arms around your body even tighter.
You groaned, “Because your head is heavy and my boobs hurt.”
Jungkook looked up and smiled at you. He puckered his lips out with his eyes shut close, waiting for you to kiss him. You smiled and pecked his lips a few times. You gave him one final kiss on the forehead.
He rolled on the side of you, bringing you on top of him. You hair was falling in your face, your eyes was twinkling while looking in his. Your skin was glowing. You looked so pretty at this moment and Jungkook was sure to let you know.
“You’re so beautiful love.”
He laughed when he saw you smiling and blushing at his comment. He squeezed your sides and kissed your lips again.
You struggled against him, trying to get away from his kisses.
“Kookie stoooop,” You tried hiding your smile but it didn’t work at all.
He grabbed your face and pecked all over your face, laughing into every kiss, “Stop what?” He teased.
He finally let go of your face and you huffed while rolling off of him. You pulled half of all the covers off of him and pulled on you. Only leaving your pouting face out for him to see.
“I hate you.” You whined.
Jungkook lifted the covers and got on top of you, pulling the covers over the both of you. He eyed you before leaning down and kissing your lips gently. He leaned away lightly but his lips was still nearly on yours. Your eyes blinked twice from his eyes then back to his lips.
You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours, kissing him slowly but making sure he would want some more when you pulled away. Jungkook’s hands went under his shirt you was wearing, hands grazing your lower stomach. You felt butterflies when his lips wondered down to you neck.
“Jungkook…” You reached your hands down to his back, making traces on his shirt. He hummed in your neck in response, giving your neck a final peck before lifting his head to look you in the eyes. He licked his lips, “What?”
You blushed and shook your head lightly.
“Let’s just take a nap.”
Jungkook nodded and placed all his body weight on top of you with his head back on top of your boobs. You sighed and just decided to deal with your big baby of a boyfriend.
