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jeonqkooks · 2 years

Text

strictly platonic | jjk

Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre: best friends to lovers, college au, fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut

warnings: jk is kinda annoying sometimes but he isn’t bad yk, jk being a dumb dumb and emotionally constipated, inexperienced reader, pining!, swearing, mention of inflation 😔, mention of alcohol consumption, half a second of toxic jealousy, denial of feelings, big dicc!jk obvi, kissing, making out, fingering, protected sex, dirty talk, breast play, riding, multiple orgasms, crying during seggsy time, stomach bulging

word count: 19.4k

playlist: daylight - taylor swift; from afar - vance joy

note: the closer i was to finishing this fic, the more anxious i became and as i’m writing this a/n, i’m a blubbering mess of nerves 🥴 this is a result of me being obsessed with college au’s and the classic bff2l trope, and she’s also the longest piece i’ve written!! idk i guess that’s it. oh and kudos to whoever can spot a tongue tied reference <3

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Over the years, you have accumulated a list of annoying things about Jeon Jungkook.

He’s very loud, and has absolutely zero subtlety. He’s competitive—perhaps to an alarming extent—and chews with his mouth open sometimes. He’s way too stubborn for his own good and would rather eat soap than admit he’s in the wrong. He’s childish and full of pride at the same time, which is always a combination for disaster.

He can be selfish though he doesn’t mean to; maybe it’s just a side effect of being an overgrown baby. He needs to cuddle when either of you sleeps over, or else he gets agitated and won’t stop whining until you slot yourself into his side.

Jungkook hogs the blanket. He forces you to go on 6AM runs with him. He thinks everything you own is also his by extension, but not vice versa. He constantly blasts music while you’re trying to study, and only turns it down a couple notches when you threaten to tell his mom about that time he was in middle school and broke one of her previous vases, but somehow managed to pin it on the dog.

Despite all that, Jungkook is very charming, effortlessly so. Ever since he had that growth spurt at 14, girls started flocking to his side and vying for his attention, and surprisingly, his previously quiet self morphed into someone more confident and outspoken.

Throughout high school and now halfway into university, Jungkook has become the person that guys wanted to be, and girls wanted to be with.

He looks as if Apollo had descended from the heavens and made himself home among mere mortals. With fluffy dark hair, sparkly Bambi eyes, a jawline that can cut glass, and a well-toned body underneath his oversized hoodies, he’s the textbook definition of “boyfriend material”. Wherever he goes, Jungkook just exudes that charisma that makes people stop and say, “Wow. That. I want that. Where do I get myself someone like that? Do they sell them on Amazon?”

He’s smart in that casual and infuriating way where he still manages to ace all his classes without ever really trying. All his professors adore him even though he’s almost always late to class and hands in his assignments at least a few days late without giving any kind of notice or excuse.

Jungkook seems like the total package—someone that mothers would love to call their son-in-law. (But, not everyone is privy to all his flaws like you are.)

And if all of that isn’t enough to knock the pants off of every wide-eyed college-aged girl, he’s a Fine Arts major who looks like he came straight out of a Pinterest moodboard, who wears a pair of those thin-rimmed glasses in class that always makes the TA just a little distracted. Who carries around a leather-bound journal wherever he goes like he’s a Shakespearean protagonist, just in case inspiration strikes and he needs a place for his sketches. It’s the journal that you saved up for three months to get him as a high school graduation gift, but also the very same one that everyone on campus daydreams about having a page dedicated to them in it.

(No one knows this other than a handful of his closest friends and family, but Jungkook doesn’t draw people, unless a school assignment requires him to do so. That’s his one rule when it comes to his creativity. He says it’s too easy, that the beauty of human beings is limited but more importantly, it’s fickle. Instead, he prefers to portray nature and inanimate objects, things that “remain eternal”, whatever the hell that means.)

There are, however, a couple of downsides to having godly looks and being the campus heartthrob.

You reckon this inconveniences you more than it does him. You can’t recall how many girls have come up to you for advice on how to approach him. Or how many love notes you’ve been asked to pass since ninth grade, only for him to skim and toss them.

(Jungkook doesn’t actually throw them away; he just never responds to any of them, thereby bestowing upon you the honor of watching smiles drop from eager lips when you regurgitate the same lines of “Sorry, he’s not looking to date right now” to his admirers.)

The attention gets to his head sometimes, but at least he’s never contracted the same asshole disease that guys get whenever someone throws a couple of looks their way.

You’re his messenger of heartbreak, as he once so annoyingly called it. It helps that he’s your best friend, and you make him treat you to a nice meal after each time. If it happens to be someone especially persistent who would constantly badger you unless you give them his phone number, he would throw in five extra coffees for all your troubles.

What doesn’t make it easier, though, is the fact that you’re also one of those lovestruck girls whose heart he breaks on a daily basis, but you’ll never let him in on that little secret.

You’ve known him nearly all your life, and you’ve been in love with him for half that time.

You should’ve gotten started on your philosophy paper ages ago, aka three weeks prior when your professor sent out reminders telling your class to do just that. But what have you been up to instead? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Well, you’ve been entertaining your clown of a best friend through all his shenanigans, but you always do that anyway.

Granted, the paper shouldn’t even be that long—5 pages maximum, no external sources needed beside the weekly class readings—but what’s important is the principle right? You need to start holding yourself to higher standards now that you’re starting an internship soon.

Nevertheless, you left your assignment until the very end again, and now the paper is due in two days. As you hunch over your laptop at your desk, trying to compare and contrast the differences between Plato and Aristotle, your main distraction rolls into the room like a tornado.

“Eunji broke up with me,” Jungkook declares loudly as he barges in, drops his backpack to the floor with a thud, and plops onto your bed. He doesn’t even need to check to know where you are; he just buries his face into a pillow and groans in frustration.

You’re not fazed by his sudden entrances anymore. He does this at least once a day, just storming into your place and making himself at home. To be fair, it’s probably your fault for giving him a key, but oh well, he gets best friend privileges you suppose.

“Congrats?” you say confusedly as you swivel your chair around to face him. “I thought you wanted to break up with her?”

He straightens his form as much as he can on your too small bed, and props himself on an elbow to look at you. “Did you not hear me?” he says with a frown. “She broke up with me. I got dumped!”

You roll your eyes but you entertain him with a scandalized gasp anyway. “How dare she! This is unacceptable!” Maybe it’s a little too much, because he’s glaring at you and proceeds to chuck a stuffed koala on the bed at your head.

“It’s not funny!” Jungkook groans again, louder and more dramatic this time as his limbs flail about like a petulant child. “I’m heartbroken. Get the stash.”

“The stash” is your drawer of fancy snacks reserved only for special occasions or emergencies.

He’s weaseled his way into The Stash more than you. Another annoying thing about Jungkook is that he steals your food.

“Stop being dramatic, and stop getting into my stash! Inflation is going up and you know how expensive those vinegar chips already are.”

It’s a losing battle; you know it every time you open your mouth to scold him.

When he sits up, crawls his way over to the edge of the bed, juts out his bottom lip and widens his eyes to stare at you like a Golden Retriever, you feel yourself melt a little at the sight. Sure, you’ve developed somewhat of a tolerance to it after him having pulled this trick on you countless times before, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to it.

You groan and go to fulfill his request, sullenly throwing him the bag of chips and a couple of candy bars. Jungkook punches the air triumphantly.

Anywho, he goes into detail about how he had envisioned the whole ordeal to go, what he was going to say to Eunji to soften the blow of the breakup because as much as he thought they were a bad fit together, he still wanted to be cordial and maybe even remain friends in the future.

That all went out the window when she suddenly stopped him before he could launch into a big speech though.

“She said she wanted to get back with her ex!” he recants exasperatedly, stuffing his face with the chips you bought with your hard-earned money. “Jinyoung or Junyoung or whatever the hell his name is. The one that looks like the flounder from The Little Mermaid and ran into the basketball pole that one time!”

“That’s mean.”

“It’s true, I saw it happen!”

You tear into a candy bar and take a bite. “So you got your ego bruised. Big whoop.”

“But it’s… It’s not something that happens to me often! Or ever!”

“You’re not the center of the universe. You sound like a douchebag.”

“Don’t.” Jungkook gives you a pointed look. “You know I’m not like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you shrug indifferently, “but you sound like it.”

He grunts in response and goes back to his top priority mission of dropping crumbs all over your bed. You both munch on your respective treats in silence for a few moments. With your eyes trained on nothing in particular, you think about Plato’s ideal state and how much he believed humans were rational beings capable of establishing structured societies. Truth be told, that’s really all you got. You haven’t been doing a very good job at paying attention in this class.

The muscle bunny next to you clears his throat, breaking your train of (very limited) thoughts on Greek philosophers. He doesn’t meet your eyes, only keeps them fixed on the bag of chips in his hands.

“So, um,” he starts, fingers fiddling with the paper wrapping, “I might have said something to Eunji after she said she wanted to break up.”

“What?” You raise a questioning eyebrow. He hesitantly looks at you and you gasp. “Jungkook! Did you slutshame her?”

“The fuck– No! Why would I do that?!”

“Then what did you do?”

“I told her…” he stammers before dropping the bag in his lap and raising his hands up in surrender. “Wait, you have to promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him, cautious of what he has to say. “What did you do?”

“You have to promise me first.”

“Just freaking tell me, you dipshit.”

“If you won’t promise me–”

“Ugh, fine! I promise! Now what the fuck you say to do Eunji?”

Jungkook threads his fingers together and stares at you like he’s an anchorman about to give you the latest news of the day. “I told her I wanted to break up because you and I want to date.”

Alarms ring and sirens blare. Your heart stutters foolishly in your chest. Bits of chocolate get lodged in your throat.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck!” you screech in disbelief. “Jeon Jungkook!” Grabbing the nearest pillow, you whack him directly in the face. The man tumbles off your bed with a high-pitched squeal, taking the half-eaten bag of chips along with him. Golden crisps fly everywhere.

“Ow! What the fuck? You promised!”

“What the fuck do you mean “What the fuck?” Jungkook! Why would you say that?!”

The man rubs the spot on his ass where he landed on, and glares at you with those stupid eyes of his.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!”

“Oh, you dipshit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell her what you were supposed to in the first place?”

“What, that I thought we weren’t compatible? Yeah, right. The girl had just told me she wanted to be with another dude. Anything I said afterward that didn’t involve me dating someone else would sound like I only wanted to save face.”

“You do only want to save face,” you deadpan. Why does he have the mindset of a 12-year-old girl?

“Well she doesn’t need to know that,” he shrugs, picking a chip off the floor and throwing it in his mouth. Ugh, gross. “Anyway, the damage is done. Sue me.”

“Oh my God,” you groan in absolute vexation. “How do you manage to get more stupid by the day? Okay, fine. Now you’re just gonna be even more embarrassed when she finds out that you lied, because you and I are not dating.”

Jungkook rubs his imaginary beard for a few seconds, still sitting among the chaos of sliced potatoes and humming as if in thought. “I’ll figure something out.”

You chuck your almost-finished candy bar at him, which he catches and eats the last piece. “God, whatever. It’s your problem. Now clean this up.” You gesture to the mess in the room.

“You made me fall.”

“I don’t care. Clean it up!”

“...Yes ma’am.”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“What? And stop saying my full name.”

“Well, then stop telling me to kiss you.”

“Why not? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Jungkook!” you shove him in the shoulder. “We were in the second grade!”

“So? Still counts. I tell everyone you were my first kiss.”

Your frown falters to make room for surprise. That’s… new.

You were in primary school; obviously he was your first kiss too. You don’t go around telling people that though.

“Why don’t you just… I don’t know, find someone new to date? It’s not like there’s a short supply of people who would be willing to do that,” you deflect.

Jungkook has been bothering you all morning with this absurd idea. Your paper is due in six hours and he keeps moping around your room, begging for your help in his dumbass plan.

(The plan in question—which he claims to have been birthed from his big wrinkly brain and bathed in brilliance—is to convince Eunji that you two really are in a budding romance.

The first step of this scheme of his? Post a picture of you kissing.

Every other step after that? Pretend to be lovesick puppies every time you’re seen in public together. Which may also involve locking lips for people to see.)

“But I told her that there’s something going on between us!” He gestures to the both of you. “You and me! Specifically!”

“Sure, let’s assume that’s a valid argument–”

“Which it is.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shut up. Hypothetically, I get why you’d think this could work. But why do we have to… kiss? Why can’t we just hold hands or cuddle or something?”

“Okay genius.” Jungkook pokes a finger at your temple. “We’re not exactly lowkey with the PDA. Everybody knows we do all of that. No one is going to believe it! The only things we haven’t done are kiss and fuck. Unless you want to make a sex ta–”

You wave your hands in the air to stop him from finishing that sentence as your cheeks heat up. He’s right; you’re just fishing for excuses at this point. It’s true that you two are quite affectionate with each other, even in public. You do everything that a couple does minus the, well, kissing and fucking—except whenever he has a girlfriend of course. You can’t count how many people have mistaken your friendship for something because from the outside, it does look that way, doesn’t it? You don’t like to dwell on this fact, but you can’t deny it either.

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up. Fine, why do you even have to post it online? Everyone on campus, and I mean everyone, would see it.”

“Well, duh.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes now. This motherfucker sure has a lot of attitude for someone who needs a favor. “I can’t exactly slide into Eunji’s DMs and randomly hit her up with a photo of us sucking faces.”

“We’re not sucking faces. Jesus– Okay, would the group know? How do you even expect to convince everybody else? You’re literally asking me to be your–” you swallow before continuing, “fake girlfriend.”

“The group” being all of your close friends. You have an odd pack of them, to be honest.

Taehyung is probably Jungkook’s second best friend only after you, what with being in the same major and having the same gaming interests. It’s uncanny how similar they are sometimes; it’s like two peas in a pod. Two peas that pass one brain cell back and forth in a game of mental dodgeball.

Namjoon is a senior whom you met while trying to sell an old bookshelf through Facebook Marketplace. You thought he was a creep at first; he had no profile picture and the only post on his timeline was from seven years prior, and it was a photo of a tree in black and white. When you arranged a meetup with him to exchange the goods, you made Jungkook go with you in case Namjoon was a kidnapper and/or murderer. Of course, that didn’t turn out to be true at all, and he’s been like an older brother to both you and Jungkook ever since.

Yerin is Namjoon’s ex, and it’s a wonder how they can be in the same tight-knit circle considering their history. But they always reassure everyone that the breakup was amicable and cordial, that there was no love lost between friends. Another fun tidbit is that they started out as roommates, and they still live in the same apartment to this day. Go figure.

It’s not surprising that they’re the most level headed out of all of you; you often joke that they’re like divorced parents to you, Jungkook and Taehyung.

Yerin might be the closest person you have to a role model. She’s calm and collected, but she never takes shit from anyone. You’re the only two girls, so that’s another reason why you’re naturally drawn to her. That, and the fact that she’s the one of the only two people who know about your little secret concerning a certain Bambi-eyed boy. (You like to think that you’re a good actress when it comes to pretending you only see Jungkook as a friend, but Yerin—and by extension Namjoon as well—is just ultra observant.)

And Yoongi… you don’t know why he’s even in the group, or how you all became friends with him in the first place. He graduated last year and is working part-time at the university as a TA while he figures out what he actually wants for a career. You reckon it might be a little late to start doing that, but oh well, everyone’s got their own process. (Come to think of it, you vaguely recall Jungkook adopting him into the group after he found the older man eating cheese sticks alone near a trashcan on campus and thought he was exuding “sad old man energy”.)

Jungkook gives you a devilish grin, and you already regret hearing what he has to say before he’s even uttered it. “Don’t you worry, sweet child. I have it all planned out.”

“Instead of working on your portfolio? Great use of your time by the way.”

“Zip it. Don’t distract me,” he chides and pats the top of your head. “We’ll spill after the photo goes up. Taehyung will definitely yell in the comments about how I didn’t tell him so at least that’ll look believable.”

It’s not like you’re entirely opposed to this idea. Sometimes when you’re cuddled up together in bed, watching a stupid movie of his choosing, you wonder what it’d be like to feel his lips on yours. Would they be as soft as they look? What kind of kisser is he? Is he the type to dive right in from the get-go—all hard and heated—or is he the type to start slow, ease you into it and douse your lips in warmth and honey before finally prying your mouth open with his tongue?

Every time you think about kissing Jungkook, it stings a little right where your heart is. Every time you think about anyone else kissing Jungkook, it hurts even more.

You want to kiss him, God knows you do; you just hope that if there was ever a day where he wanted to kiss you too, it’d be sincere and real.

Not just for show because he can’t stand to lose to his ex-girlfriend in a game where he’s the only player.

“Jungkook,” you sigh. You really don’t want to talk about this anymore. “I’m your friend, your best friend. Don’t you think it’d be weird if we kissed?” You take a breath before continuing. “I know it’s just pretend, but still.”

Even if you didn’t have feelings for him, it would be weird as hell. You don’t know anyone who has tested the waters of friendship and kissed, on the mouth, regardless of the circumstances, and lived to tell the tale. It always implodes.

Actually, maybe that’s not entirely true. People are a lot more open-minded now, and mere kisses don’t mean as much as they used to. But to you, they still do. Especially a kiss with Jungkook. Especially when you’re in love with him.

“It won’t be weird. My cousin makes out with his neighbor all the time and they’re still friends,” he shrugs.

“They what– How is that remotely related to this? They’re not best friends.”

“Exactly! We’re best friends. We’re too close for anything to come between us. I mean, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“Dipshit, you were changing and left your door wide open!”

He only shrugs again. The nerve on this clown. It’s true what they say, isn’t it? All men have is the audacity.

You punch him in the arm and trudge over to your bed, plopping onto it with an exasperated groan. Every minute that passes by is a minute that you should be reading about Greek philosophers, not arguing with your friend about his godforsaken brain babies.

The bed dips beside you, and something shifts in the air. Jungkook tugs on your hand and pouts, whipping out the puppy dog eyes again. You turn away from him and face the wall.

If you give in to this, you’re not sure if you’d be able to act normal around him again. Not after having had a taste of what it’s like to kiss him. To be with him, to be loved by him in that way.

You don’t know what you’d do if your friendship suffers the consequences of this reckless decision. He’s one of the most important people in your life—your less-than-platonic feelings for him notwithstanding. You grew up together, you’re each other’s rock and strongest support system, you know one another better than you know yourselves.

He’s your chosen family, and the bond that you two have is the most special you’ll ever know. He’s the only one you want to comfort you when you’re feeling low, and the only one you come running to to share your happiness. He’s your person, and you know you’re his person too.

His. In more ways than one.

“Hey.” You feel his arm wrap around you and pull you toward his body, your back pressed against his chest. “Sorry for being annoying about this,” he says more softly now, and for a second you think he’s about to nix the topic completely, seeing your reluctance to participate. But then he continues and you remember that he’s still your good old stubborn Jungkook.

“I promise it’ll be fine. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not like we have feelings for each other, right? We’ll know that it’s not real.”

You’ve lost all mental capacity to ponder about Aristotle at this point. You remain silent, too lost in your head about this whole fake kissing fiasco. While all of these thoughts and scenarios are running through your mind, your best friend is completely oblivious. He’s only thinking about how to one-up another girl.

When you take too long to respond, he shuffles nervously on the bed. “You’ll do it, right? We’re good?” he asks. “Because I have to head to a class right now…”

No. The simple word sits on the tip of your tongue, caged in by your teeth. If only you could open your mouth and hurl it at his head.

No. You use it every day with ease. You say it politely preceding a Thank you when the cashier at the convenience store asks if you’d like to buy a chocolate chip cookie to accompany your best friend’s banana milk. You say it with slight annoyance in your voice when your mom asks if you have a boyfriend yet. You say it casually and teasingly when Yoongi asks if he could have one of your friends’ phone number.

So why can’t you say it to Jungkook now? Every fiber of your being is resisting his plan, but the motor cortex in your frontal lobe just won’t let you verbalize it. When you really think about it, have you ever not gone along with his shenanigans, however stupid they may be? Sure, this one may take the cake as the most hare-brained conspiracy he’s come up with, but the person asking for your help is still him.

You heave a sigh and squeeze your eyes close. “Shut the fuck up and go to class, Jungkook. I have a paper to finish.”

The man leans closer to you warily until his lips are right next to your ear, thinking it’s a good sign that you haven’t shut down his idea.

“Fine. I’m going now,” he whispers. “Love you, bye bye.”

Thirty seconds pass and his face is still hovering over your head. You know what he wants. You say it so he’ll finally leave you alone, all the while wishing that there isn’t an alternative meaning behind your words.

“Love you too…”

He grins and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “See ya later!” he calls as he dashes out the door.

Sometimes, Jungkook can be selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

Fortunately, you managed to finish that dreadful paper ten minutes before the deadline. Unfortunately, that was the last thing on your to-do list of high priority tasks, and you had no other excuse to avoid being roped into Jungkook’s scheme.

There is one thing that might deter him, though. You could tell Yerin about this whole thing and she and Namjoon would be more than willing to shut it down for you before anything happens.

You could, but you don’t.

Honestly, the logic of the plan seems flawed, but that’s not something that you’re too focused on in all of this.

Oh, those two are going to have a field day picking apart your brain, aren’t they?

You’re sitting next to Jungkook on your bed, nervously toying with the loose threads of your shirt as he prepares to enact the first phase of his plan. He’s even gone as far as to dub your room “campaign headquarters”.

“Your dozens of admirers are gonna hate me,” you tell him. “They’ll say I sabotaged them to get you all to myself.”

He tilts his head to look at you. “But you don’t usually care about stuff they say.”

“I don’t,” you agree, sighing. “Okay, what if I want to get a boyfriend?”

“Do you?”

“No, but what if I change my mind–”

“You’re stalling,” he says. “I know I’ve been bugging you but you don’t have to do this if you aren’t 100% on board.”

“I know. I just…”

You just what? How do you tell him that once you do this, it’ll just make it infinitely more difficult to pretend you’re not in love with him?

Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes gently as the atmosphere turns more serious. “It’s me,” he tries to soothe you, even if he doesn’t know exactly what for. “It’s just me.”

You take a breath before you can look at him. When your eyes lock, he just smiles, and you can’t believe that you’re about to kiss that smile.

“Okay, so what do we do?”

“Just be normal. You’ve kissed other people before. If it makes things easier, pretend I’m Eunwoo.”

Your mind is too troubled to notice how his jaw slightly tenses as the words leave his mouth.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “okay.”

You had a thing with Cha Eunwoo last year. He was nice, very handsome, and he asked you out after you did a group project together for class. He was always the perfect gentleman, and he genuinely seemed to care about you. If things were different, you think you might’ve actually wanted to pursue a serious relationship with him.

But after three months, Eunwoo broke things off though you couldn’t say that you didn’t see it coming. He was about to go on exchange for six months abroad, but that’s not why the relationship fell apart. He was willing to do long distance with you, but he said he felt like you were always putting him second after Jungkook, and he didn’t think that would change any time soon. If your best friend was first priority while he was still there, what would it be like when he was gone?

Well, maybe Namjoon and Yerin aren’t the only people who are privy to your little secret. You reckon Eunwoo must have known about it too, because the last thing he said to you was “Call me when you figure it out.” You never did though.

You didn’t tell Jungkook this; you only said that the pair of you just didn’t think long distance would work, but you’d always have a soft spot for Eunwoo.

Jungkook starts the timer on his camera and turns to you. Ten seconds, you can do this. Think of Eunwoo’s gorgeous eyes and that pretty smile. Just pretend he’s Eunwoo. Pretend he’s Eunwoo…

You close your eyes as he leans in. Eunwoo’s face pops up in your head.

Ready. Set. Action.

Your lips touch, and as quickly as Eunwoo appeared in your mind, he vanished just as fast. Something within you shatters but you ignore it for now; you can always open that door later. Right now, there’s only Jungkook—simultaneously in the center of your mind, at the forefront, lingering in the back…

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook…

With his lips pressed against yours, he waits for the sound of the camera going off before pulling away from you, but he doesn’t stray too far.

A second isn't nearly enough to answer all your questions about what it’d be like to kiss him, but at least you’ve been allowed a glimpse into it now.

It happened in a flash but it felt like an eternity. In that split second, the fantasies in your head came true and fizzled out all at once. In that fleeting moment, you could pretend that he was yours, in every sense of the word. You could pretend that it was only one out of countless kisses you two would share. You could pretend that there wasn’t any line to tiptoe or any word that you had to keep unsaid.

If only briefly, you could pretend that Jungkook loved you, in the way that you’ve always wanted him to.

A lifetime within a second, and you’re oh so tempted to never leave that illusion.

He tilts his head and grins like he just won you a stuffed animal at the carnival. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Your faces are still way too close for comfort. You don’t even think you’ve been breathing. It feels like an airbag was deployed within your chest when your heart crashed so suddenly against your ribcage, but you soldier on.

Clearing your throat, you punch him in the arm. “You better hope you didn’t give me any disease.”

He scoffs playfully and turns away to grab the phone. He examines the photo and when he deems it good enough to post, a tiny twisted part deep in your psyche wants to object, to find any reason to dismiss the picture he took just to have a reason to do it again.

You watch him type in a cheesy caption, ‘Been a long time coming,’ along with your username and a purple heart tacked on at the end, and send it out for the whole world to see.

There’s really no going back now.

Jungkook was right though; Taehyung is one of the first people to comment on the post.

vantae: BRO FOR REAL?? NO WAY WTFFFFF

jaykay97: @vantae 😉

He turns to you when his other college friends start to come through with their own comments expressing surprise or congratulations. He gives you a grin, one that’s blinding and makes his eyes crinkle.

“I’ll refill The Stash for you.”

“Hey, what the fuck?” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “What do you mean it’s not real? Your tongue was in her mouth.”

“His tongue was not in my mouth, oh my God.” You reach across the table and smack him over the head, knocking off the glasses perched on his nose in the process. “The photo is… real. But we’re not dating.”

Jungkook silently nods in agreement beside you as Taehyung sends you a glare.

“Why are you two doing this again?” Yerin speaks up from his place next to Namjoon. Her stare burns into the side of your face so intensely that you can’t meet her eyes. You know she’ll drag you somewhere to talk later.

You turn to your best friend and nudge his shoulder; he sighs and gives the gang a full recap of what happened—mainly his initial stupidity that led you both to this.

Okay, so maybe it’s not that long of a story. He takes about two minutes to fill them in on everything and by the time he’s finished, everyone stays mostly quiet. You don’t know how you expected them to react, but this isn’t it. It’s like they’re privy to a secret that you weren’t let in on.

“And here I thought it only happens in the movies, right?” you half-heartedly joke.

Namjoon and Yerin seem to share the same sentiments. They look at each other for a few seconds, silently communicating in that way that they do. It’s annoying sometimes, but right now it just makes you feel uneasy.

Maybe being silent isn’t an odd response for Yoongi; he’s like that most of the time anyway. Still, it adds to your nervousness.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is evidently disappointed. “You couldn’t have said Somi instead? That girl has a fat ass crush on you and she’s hot as fuck.” Classic Kim Taehyung.

“Shut up, Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and flips off the other art student. “I’m not into Somi, and I said I couldn’t think of another excuse, didn’t I?”

He sounds strangely irritated. Perhaps it’s due to all the attention in the room being directed at him (and you, but mostly him) for a reason that he doesn’t particularly enjoy. Like someone has laid egg shells all over the floor, your friends are having a hard time approaching the issue with Jungkook.

Namjoon is the first to offer some serious talk. “Kook,” he says, still searching for the right words, “have you really thought this through?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this really the best idea?” Then Namjoon’s eyes flicker to you for a split second and you gulp. “I mean, have you thought about the consequences it might have?”

There’s a slight scowl on Jungkook’s face when he answers. “Consequences? The hell are you talking about?”

“I’m only trying to–”

“Hyung, can you just get off my back?” he snaps. “It’s my business, okay?”

It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at Namjoon, or at any of you, really.

The older man retreats instantly, not pushing to talk to someone who’s clearly not interested in listening.

A moment of silence ensues, but it doesn’t last long before Taehyung diffuses the tension with a change of topic, prompting a conversation about some gossip he heard about a frat house on campus. Even Yoongi joins in as an attempt to make the air feel lighter. Everyone soon drifts away from your situation with Jungkook, but he doesn’t contribute anything to the chatter after his little outburst.

He doesn’t like it when people question his decisions and judgment, but he’s never been unreasonably closed off to it. Not that he’s being unreasonable now, but it toes that line a little. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood today.

Eventually, Jungkook slips away to the balcony to get some air. You follow him out after some minutes.

“So…” you start, hoping he’ll at least talk to you. You bump your hip against his.

“What? Are you here to lecture me too?”

It’s cool outside tonight. You’re grateful for the late summer chill for providing you with some much needed fresh air. From here, you can see cars passing on the streets. Someone is out walking their dogs. A few more people are strolling about with their arms full of liquor bottles. Right in front of the building, there’s a middle-aged man with a small food truck. The smell of tokbokki wafts all the way up to you on the fourth floor, and it makes you a little hungry.

“You know Namjoon didn’t mean anything bad,” you sigh.

“Yeah.” Jungkook looks down at the ground and kicks at a fallen leaf from a plant. “But did he have to talk to me like I’m a child? Like I don’t know any better?”

“Don’t be too hard on him.” Your hand comes up to rub his back soothingly. “He’s just worried.”

“Why?” he asks. “Is there something he should be worried about?”

There’s a moment where you two just look at each other. The air thickens in a way that you don’t like despite the breeze that passes by. Stars in the sky mimic the ones in his eyes, and you feel an urge to get lost in the sparkling orbs staring back at you. It’s almost maddening what you would do to get them to keep twinkling for you forever.

There’s something unfamiliar in his expression, with his lips slightly pursed and a small furrow in his brows. You dislike it even more than the tension in the atmosphere; you’ve always been able to read him like he’s your favorite book.

You break away from his eyes with a clear of your throat. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that it’s not hard to understand where he’s coming from.”

Jungkook opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but then he just settles for a hum as he turns to look at the streets again. The conversation dies at that, and you slip away again.

It’s been weird tonight, from your friends’ reactions to the way Jungkook is acting while he’s supposed to be the “mastermind” in all of this. You’ve been trying to be as normal as you can around him to not jeopardize everything you two have, and you can’t help but be a little irked at his behavior right now.

When you go back inside, Yerin pulls you to the kitchen for some privacy.

“That was some interesting news tonight,” she says, sipping on her bottle of cider as she eyes you.

You swallow and nod slowly. You’ve been expecting a Yerin talk.

“What’s your game plan here?” she asks when you don’t say anything else.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance though you know you don’t have to in front of her. “There’s no game plan. I’m just going along with what he wants.”

She frowns and sets the bottle on the white marble counter. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“You always “going along” with what he wants. Always putting him before yourself. You can’t keep doing this forever.”

Like Namjoon, Yerin is just worried. You get that, and you would be the same way if you were in her shoes.

“It’s not that simple.” Oh, but it is. “He’s my best friend.”

And there’s that excuse again. You can’t count how many times you’ve taken advantage of this title to justify your actions, your willingness to do anything for Jungkook under the guise of only being his best friend and not because you would trade the sun for his happiness for a reason far beyond that. Sometimes you think it’s pathetic.

“You could’ve told him no. He’d never force you into anything,” she says, but then her voice softens as she continues, her eyes sympathetic when they meet yours. “Are you hoping something would come out of this?”

There it is. The one question you wished she wouldn’t ask.

You avoid her gaze, preferring to train your eyes on the tiny droplets that collect outside the cider bottle instead. They roll down the side of the plastic when the moisture gets too heavy, and make a tiny pool where the bottle connects with the counter.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” you settle for eventually.

“What am I gonna say?” Yerin inquires.

“That I’m stupid, and reckless.”

“Not stupid,” she counters with a shake of her head, “but yes, I think you’re being reckless.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say with shaky finality. The words sound resolute, but underneath that shell, they’re mangled. As much as you want to believe them, you know deep down that you don’t.

Over the next weeks, it happens again a few times. It being the kiss. A few times being five, because you’ve definitely been keeping track. Although they have technically been more like pecks than kisses, each one lasting approximately 1.2 second.

Holding hands on campus, resting your head on his shoulders when you’re sitting beside him under the old tree near one of the old university buildings—things that you’ve always been doing, but now accentuated with a smooch on the lips here and there.

Yeah, people seem to buy it.

People including Eunji.

Truth be told, you don’t think they care that much. (Perhaps with the exclusion of Jungkook’s not-so-secret admirers who glare at you every time you walk by.) You suppose that like with any other new couple on campus, after that initial Oh, cool reaction, there’s not really much thought to be had afterward. You’ve tried voicing your observation to Jungkook, but he’s adamant that this is “the way to go”, which is vague and cryptic and how he is sometimes.

You’re not sure what it means, but as always—and cue a big sigh—you go along with it. You handle it… decently. Like with everything else Jungkook does that has an effect on you, you’ve tried to build a tolerance to the occasional peck.

Every time he kisses you, you act like it’s the first time. He gives you a warning before he does it so you aren’t startled. Nevertheless, you’ve developed somewhat of a routine before each kiss so you don’t completely freak out and collapse afterward. It goes like this: Clench your jaw, inhale deeply, peck!, exhale.

Your heart constantly complains, and you more or less successfully ignore it.

Yerin and Namjoon, being Yerin and Namjoon, try to talk you out of it before someone gets hurt. You, being you—aka pathetically in love with your best friend, don’t listen.

That, and the fact that having the title of being his (fake) girlfriend makes you feel a certain way.

Maybe you can’t shit on him for being stubborn when sometimes you’re just as headstrong.

That’s why you’re at this party with the rest of the group (sans Yerin, because she doesn’t do frat parties) at one of the frat houses, holding Jungkook’s hand. The beer you’re sipping helps quell the butterflies in your stomach when he mindlessly rubs your thumb.

Suddenly, he tips his head somewhere to the right, where you see Eunji leaning against someone you assume to be the ex she recently got back together with. Jungkook quirks a brow and blinks fast at you.

“Are you having a stroke?”

He rolls his eyes and puckers his lips slightly before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Eunji is here. With the flounder! So you know….”

Your jaw tenses and you take a deep breath, not even questioning him if this is necessary anymore. Your eyelids fall as he surges forward, but to your surprise, you don’t get to exhale as quickly as you normally would.

The count remains at five. Five pecks that last a total of one second.

But there’s a new count that pops up on the chart.

Number of pecks that last a total of three seconds: 1.

When Jungkook pulls away, you swallow dryly and finally breathe out. Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly, having watched the whole exchange.

Your best friend doesn’t speak; instead he just stares at you. He doesn’t look to see if Eunji or anyone else is watching, like he usually does. He just looks at you.

You’re hyper aware of how loud the music is and how his lips overwhelm the taste of alcohol in your mouth. How he’s still rubbing your thumb.

“I’m just gonna get another drink,” you croak the words out, and you disappear into the crowd before Jungkook can say anything.

The kitchen is just as packed as the living room, but you needed to get away for a while. The countertops here are sticky with spilled alcohol and reeks of drunken bodies.

You turn around when a hand taps your shoulder, and almost choke when you see who it is that’s offering you a hug.

“Oh, Nayoung, hi!” you chirp awkwardly as you accept her embrace. It’s less than graceful, but then again, you two have never really been the best of friends, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying.

She was Jungkook’s last serious relationship before Eunji; they were together for about nine months before calling it quits. Out of everyone he has dated, you liked her the most. She has a bubbly personality, practically the embodiment of pure sunshine, and not to mention she’s one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen.

Come to think of it, you don’t think you know why she and Jungkook split in the first place. He’s told you before that they still talk occasionally—the pair didn’t end on bad terms—but that’s about it, no details whatsoever.

After the initial chit chat about what she’s been up to, what you’ve been up to, and the conventional commentary on the state of the party, Nayoung goes right into what you hoped she wouldn’t.

“I heard you’re dating Kook now,” she says after taking a sip of beer.

You fiddle with the cup in your hand and smile sheepishly at her. “Yeah, it just sort of happened…”

“I’m really happy for you.” A smile blooms on her lips, and you can tell that it’s genuine. “I’m glad he finally stepped up.”

The liquid in your cup sloshes slightly as you tighten your grip on the plastic. You stare at Nayoung, and you’re about to ask her what she means by that when someone spots her and calls her name loudly.

“Soyeon!” she squeals back at the other girl before turning to you. “I have to go say hi to her. But it was nice running into you. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

With that, she leaves, and you’re left standing in the kitchen with a bunch of people you don’t know and cheap beer you don’t like. Nonetheless, you pour more of the alcohol into your cup, stuff your mouth with a couple of potato chips and head back to find your friends.

Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook are nowhere in sight, but you spy Yoongi standing in the corner with a drink of his own, looking bored as usual and watching the drunks near him wobble until they collapse onto the couch.

You open your mouth to ask him where the others are, but you hear their voices before the question can come out. You peek over Yoongi’s shoulders to scan for them, and find Namjoon and Jungkook standing a few feet from where you are, with the latter wearing an annoyed expression on his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We're best friends. The best of besties,” Jungkook says, his tone more defensive than Namjoon thinks it should be. “I don’t even see her as a girl.”

Your feet cement themselves to the floor as you stand there, holding the red plastic in your hand and trying to keep a neutral expression on your face. Yoongi looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He just offers you a sympathetic smile and you wonder if he knows.

You’ve been more distant since the night of the party, and Jungkook is willing to admit that it affects him in ways he doesn’t like. There’s something different about your dynamic that he senses, and he resents the fact that it doesn’t feel the same as it used to.

The cafe that he normally frequents is quieter than usual for a Saturday afternoon, and it does very little to distract him from the disturbance that’s afflicting his mind. Besides him and Taehyung sitting in their regular booth with their sketchbooks in front of them, there’s barely five other patrons in the coffee shop.

Every so often, Jungkook huffs and puffs, and it’s starting to annoy his friend.

“Okay, what’s up with you today, dude?”

“What?” Jungkook glances up from his journal and pushes his glasses further up his nose bridge. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Taehyung comments, sipping from his coffee and looking at the other man over the rim of the glass. “Is it about Y/N?”

“Why would it be about her?”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty… distracted lately. Trouble in fake paradise?”

Lead skids on paper and Jungkook’s movements come to a stop. His gargantuan eyes blink at Taehyung, who only shrugs and stares back.

“Why do you and Namjoon hyung keep nagging me about this?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung repeats, and irritation begins to crawl up Jungkook’s spine. “If I were you and I had a best friend whom I kiss all the time, I don’t think I’d be able to keep things strictly platonic, you know?”

What is he trying to get at here? Jungkook was planning to come over to your dorm tonight for a one-on-one hangout, but now, he’s just gonna be in his head about what his friend is saying.

“Not all the time. Sometimes,” the younger man corrects. “And it’s not that big a deal. Just leave it alone.”

“I mean–”

“Taehyung.”

If another person were to insinuate something along these lines to him, he might actually get into a fight. Taehyung and Namjoon aren’t the first ones to do it, and frankly, Jungkook is getting tired of it.

People keep implying that there’s something going on between you and him when in reality, you’re his best friend and that’s it. But everyone just goes on wanting to uproot his entire life by trying to unravel his relationship with you.

You two have been this way since forever. It’s not that deep.

Jungkook sits in silence across from Taehyung for a long while after that, each of them working on their respective drawings while the cafe continues to be mostly empty.

He doesn’t notice when Taehyung stands up and makes his way to the other side of the booth to peek at his sketchbook. He’s just been mindlessly moving his pencil for the past hour; he does that sometimes, where he just lets his brain go rampant and his fingers glide through the paper seamlessly. Most of these times, he doesn’t have a specific vision in mind, and they often turn out to be some of the best works he’s ever drawn.

“Dude,” Taehyung almost gasps as he leans over the younger’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, really, how his mouth hangs open and his eyes widen.

Jungkook’s fingers halt, his eyes refocusing and taking in what his friend is looking at.

He gulps but his throat is dry, hastily closing the journal and stuffing it in his backpack. The chair scrapes loudly against the cafe’s wooden floors when he abruptly stands up, turning a couple of heads nearby. Taehyung calls after him but he’s already walking away, unable to stifle the restless feeling that gnaws on his guts.

Knock, knock, knock.

Hmm? You aren’t expecting anyone, are you?

When you open the door, the person standing on the other side of the threshold makes your heart leap to your throat.

He… knocks now?

“Koo,” you breathe, clearly surprised to see him. Or maybe you’re surprised at his unexpectedly good manner.

“‘Sup, dude?” He brushes past you into the room in that typical Jungkook fashion. “We haven’t hung out in forever.”

He’s carrying two paper bags that he holds up for you to see. When you lean closer to inspect them, it’s all of your favorites from the diner nearby. The scent emanating from the bags immediately makes your stomach growl.

“The last time you saw me was two days ago,” you say.

“Yeah, on campus. We haven’t properly hung out in weeks.”

“You’re so clingy, and needy.”

“I know you meant full offense when you said that, but none taken.” After setting up the food neatly on the floor, Jungkook goes to wash his hands in the bathroom. When he returns, he looks you straight in the eye. There’s that expression again, the one he wore on the balcony of Namjoon and Yerin’s apartment. “I’m only clingy with you.”

You wonder if he notices that you’ve been pulling away these past few days, though you can’t say that you’ve been distant. You just haven’t seen him everyday like you used to, and you’ve chalked it up to an overload of schoolwork which isn’t untrue.

As you begin to dig into the food he brought over, you can tell that he’s trying. To do what exactly, you don’t know, but you appreciate the effort anyhow. It’s not his fault that things feel weird between you.

Once everything has been devoured and your bellies are stuffed, you do what you always do. He brings your laptop from the desk and plops onto the bed next to you. By this point, you’re no longer surprised nor annoyed when he puts on a Spiderman movie for the umpteenth time. The film starts, and the familiar superhero in red and blue takes over your entire screen. But there’s something different now.

You’ve been sharing a bed with Jungkook since middle school; you’re used to this.

No. Correction: you’re used to comfortably sharing a bed with him. This, right here? This isn’t it. When did things start to change between the two of you?

Oh, you know. When you crossed that line of no return.

You lie there on the soft mattress and against the plushness of the pillows, but your body is stiff. If Jungkook is going through the same thing as you, he doesn’t let it show.

“Why are you so far away? Come here,” he says, and practically yanks you toward him until his arm is wrapped snugly around your shoulders. You’re still rigid against him and you think he notices it, because he starts to rub soothing circles into your skin. It works a little.

Halfway into the movie, you sag against his body. After a few minutes, he glances down at you and chuckles to himself when he spies your slightly open mouth as you calmly snooze.

See, Jungkook thinks, fucking Kim Taehyung and his nosy ass. This is fine.

His eyes roam your face and he realizes that he’s never seen you like this before, not really. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his keeper and his soulmate, if soulmates do exist. Before you’re any of those things, he has found you pretty since you were little kids. Since the second grade to be exact, after you shared your first kiss and you suddenly burst out crying because “boys have cooties”. When your entire face was flushed red, your eyes wet with tears that rolled down your cheeks and even snot running from your nose, there was only one word that popped into little 7-year-old Jungkook’s head. Pretty.

Maybe that’s why he tells people that you were his first kiss. Even though you were mere children, there’s some pride in boasting about sharing that experience with someone he thought was the prettiest girl in the world.

If he were to say it out loud, you would argue that it’s reductive to think that way, but you would blush nevertheless. You tend to do that whenever he compliments you. You hide it but he always notices.

Raising a hand to ghost over your cheek, he smiles when he remembers how you always say it’s unfair that he was blessed with such long eyelashes while yours barely kiss the top of your cheeks.

Slender fingers follow the bridge of your nose and brush back the curtain of hair that falls over the side of your face, covering your jawline. When you hum in your sleep and instinctively snuggle closer into his warmth and feather-light touches, his focus shifts to something that he probably shouldn’t be dwelling on.

Jungkook isn’t in primary school anymore; believe it or not, he’s an adult now. He doesn’t just think you’re pretty anymore, he knows you’re beautiful. But if he can see that, then so can others, and the thought of it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He feels like a creep, staring at you like this when you’re far away in dreamland, unaware of all the things running through his mind. It discombobulates him even more so when he can’t help but trace your lips with his thumb, gulping when he finds how soft they are, how lusciously pink they are. Must be from the lipbalm you always tell him he should use. Strawberry, was it? Maybe he should confirm that.

Every time that he’s kissed you thus far has been fleeting—barely even three seconds—and strictly for “business” purposes if you will. Trickery, put on for others to see.

But as he lies here with you cuddled up against him, Jungkook wants to shake you awake. Rouse you from slumber and kiss you until you’re breathless and clutching his arm in search of air. It would be so easy to do too, just a little nudge…

When you unconsciously clear your throat, Jungkook retracts his hand like he’s been burned. Fuck, what was that? he thinks. His entire chest rattles with the impact of his thoughts, and the realization that he can’t snap out of that daze. The urge to kiss you lingers like sweet petrichor after a rain shower. With a mind in overdrive and a heart that won’t calm down, he clenches and unclenches his fist, tries to take steady breaths, and fails to repress more thoughts about your lips. Meanwhile you’re right there, with barely any space between your bodies, blissfully unaware of his turmoil.

Glancing at the journal that spills out of his backpack from where it lays on the floor, he gulps as his conversation with Taehyung echoes in the background.

The next week is more or less the same. You keep maintaining some semblance of distance between you and Jungkook, in that you try to limit your time alone with him. He still walks you home from class—gotta keep up the charade, right?—and you still hang out as a group with all your other friends. But other than that, you’ve been making excuses to not have him over as much anymore.

It’s particularly hot today, considering autumn is starting to settle in and you’ve begun to bring out your warmer clothes. Must be summer saying its final goodbye.

You’re with your best friend on the way from your evening philosophy class back to your room. His pinky is hooked around your own, your hands swinging back and forth between your bodies as you relish in the last of the heat.

From the corner of your eye, you spy the familiar glow of green neon lights.

“Hey, let’s go there. I need–”

Silenced.

You flatline for a moment before you’re fully aware of what’s happening.

Jungkook’s mouth is suddenly on your mouth, his arm is encircling your waist; it’s been a few seconds and he isn’t pulling away. Instead, his lips are slowly moving and you find that yours are too. You let your eyelids fall as your hands grip the fabric of his shirt.

Your heart restarts and shifts into full gear every time his lips slot perfectly against yours. The taste of him is devastating, to say the least. You feel his other hand sneak up to cup your cheek and when he swipes his tongue your bottom lip, you gladly part way for him.

His arm tightens around you, effectively pulling you closer. A whimper escapes from your throat, muffled by his mouth, as his tongue dances with yours. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. The fantasies explode in your brain like fireworks and this time, you get your answer.

When some guy on a bike breezes by and whistles loudly, you break away with heavy pants. Still mesmerized by his lips, you blink in a daze and swallow thickly.

“I, uh…” you mumble weakly. If Jungkook isn’t still wrapped around your body, you’re sure you would just fall to the ground. You want to keep kissing him, and you want to cry for some reason.

Your mind is still in shambles from the impact of his actions and in that moment, you forget that he isn’t yours to keep. Ignorance really is bliss, even if it’s only fleeting.

Alas, reality comes crashing down and the air gets knocked out of your lungs for a completely different reason. It’s similar to that feeling you get when you’re dreaming, and you’re falling, and the world shakes you into wakefulness.

He whips his head around and scans your surroundings for a few seconds before turning back to you with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I thought I saw Eunji. What were you gonna say?”

He seems unfazed, and the pieces inside of you fracture even more. The shards pierce everything they could find, like glass in your bloodstream.

Jungkook is stubborn, and childish, and selfish at times, and all of that leads to the thing that you hate most about him: Jungkook can be casually cruel.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek until the taste of him is replaced with something metallic. You point limply at the convenience store around the corner, trying to repress the burning sensation behind your eyes.

“Pads… I need to buy pads.”

He’s gone on many period supply runs for you before, so he’s very well versed in the type of pads you usually get and the roster of comfort snacks you need during that time of the month, which is not to be confused with what gets selected for The Stash.

Whenever Aunt Flow visits, Jungkook always makes sure that you have an array of your favorite chocolates, gummies, and that Honey Stars cereal you like to munch on. Sometimes, if he can afford to splurge a little more that month, he gets you a boba a day to help you cruise through the discomfort.

Your period is the only occasion where he tries to be less of a menace to you, partly because he knows how much you hate going through it, but mainly because you’re ten times more irritable and won’t hesitate to choke him with your bare hands. (This may or may not have happened once or twice.)

Today though, you seem distracted as you browse the aisles. Your hand grabs a packet of pads and you move quickly through the store. It isn’t the one that you normally use, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe you’re trying out different things, who knows? Jungkook isn’t one to tell you how you conduct your business down there.

However, you completely pass by the chocolate shelves without even looking at them. It makes him frown, and he has to linger behind to grab the sweets before catching up with you and dropping them in your little basket. When you sense the extra weight in your grip, you send him an appreciative but uneasy smile, and his stomach immediately drops.

It was the kiss, wasn’t it?

Fuck. Did he make things weird?

You spend most of the shopping trip in silence, and it extends to the walk to your dorm too, excluding the few instances where he makes a silly comment about the mundane things you see on the way home, but you merely hum in acknowledgement.

“Dude,” Jungkook says when the two of you stop in front of your building, “you know I love you right?”

The words sound and feel strange as they come out of his mouth. Strained even to his own ears, foreign on his own tongue.

He’s suddenly nervous as he awaits your response. You’ve exchanged these words a thousand—maybe a million—times before. Not once has it felt like this.

Not once has the air been charged with such uncertainty.

You force a smile onto your face that he can see right through. “I know.” Your voice cracks a little but you immediately cover it up with a fake cough.

He’s about to ask if you want to watch a movie—one of your choosing this time—in an attempt to distill the tension, but you beat him to it with a bid of goodbye. You tell him that you’re tired and just want to sleep, and head inside.

As he stands there alone with only the flickering street lights for company, he frowns. Nerves dissipate in his stomach to make room for something else entirely. Something that sinks in his chest that’s probably not his heart.

Is it?

Either way, it doesn’t matter. What’s more important is that you didn’t say it back.

You’ve never not said it back before, no matter how upset you are with him.

You still said it back when Jungkook accidentally deleted a midterm paper on your laptop that you’d been working on for four days straight. You still said it back when he forgot that he’d promised to pick you up from class to take you dress shopping, and left you stranded in the rain with a broken umbrella for nearly an hour. Even when you had to miss a scholarship interview to take him to the emergency room for appendicitis, you still returned his sentiments.

Drunken or sober, the words still came out one way or another. You said it back every time, every single time…

But there you were, with your strained smile and hollow eyes, caging the words in and swallowing them down.

He shakes his head harshly to expel the thoughts. He looks up at your window before turning on his heels to leave. His fingertips twitch, as he recalls your afternoon together. The urge to grab a pencil and his beloved journal becomes too immense not to notice.

In the wise words of singer-songwriter extraordinaire Tove Lo: “Wanna get over, get under.”

Well, in your case, maybe you won’t be getting under anyone. More like, “wanna get over, eat your feelings, get a date and try to forget.”

Naturally, it’s a lot easier in theory.

The first step? You’ve got it covered. The Stash has nearly been emptied out over the past few days as you make up excuse after excuse to avoid Jungkook.

The second step? You didn’t have to look any further than your cousin and the guy she keeps wanting to set you up with.

It’s really just the third step that you’re having trouble with.

As you sit in this nice restaurant with your date, Seokjin, you find it quite challenging to focus on anything he’s saying.

He seems like a decent guy; charming, funny, not to mention tall and very handsome. Seems like the type of person you would be completely enamored with had your mind not been preoccupied by someone else.

Needless to say, the dinner isn’t going very well. You’re barely responding to any of his jokes or stories, and when he asks you about yourself, you only give him curt responses because you’re too busy thinking about another person.

You can’t remember why you thought this was a plausible idea in the first place.

You don’t notice that it’s been quiet for a few minutes while you pick at your salad and Seokjin watches awkwardly across from you. When a hand lands on your shoulder, you look up, but your date has both arms resting on the table.

A familiar voice calls your name.

“Jungkook,” you breathe as you look to your left, “what are you doing here?”

You can tell that he’s agitated; dare you say, even angry.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barks at you, and you’re thankful that the table is hidden in the corner, where only the waiter nearby is nosy enough to pay attention to you.

Swallowing thickly, you utter, “I’m on a date.”

Jungkook is evidently unhappy with your answer, though you don’t think there’s any other explanation that he would be pleased with at the moment. He clenches his jaw so harshly that you fear it might snap from that sheer force. Turning his head slightly, he glares at the man sitting across, and his grip on your shoulder tightens.

“Your cousin said you were single,” Seokjin says frantically as his eyes dart between the two of you. You can’t blame him for jumping to conclusions. A guy showing up to your date looking pissed off as hell and you’re losing your voice like you’ve been caught in the act? Yeah, it’s fair to assume.

“I am!” You raise a hand in defense, turning away from your friend to face Seokjin. “He’s just a friend. I’m sorry, I– Jungkook!”

You can’t even finish your sentence before his hand moves to grab your wrist and yanks you to your feet. The waiter watches the scene unfold like it’s a soap opera as you get dragged out of the restaurant helplessly.

When you’re finally outside, you wrench your wrist from Jungkook’s hold but you’re still too stunned to say anything. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales in frustration.

“Get in the car,” he merely says, and surprisingly, you do without any protest.

You must have jinxed yourself back then, huh? You really thought this only happened in the movies.

The twenty-minute drive to your dorm is spent in absolute silence as he simmers in his anger while you organize the thoughts in your head, and the raging whirlpool of emotions that flood your body. After arriving at the building, you let him walk you up to your room and you let him come in. Only then do you find your voice again.

“What the fuck was that back there?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date?”

“I didn’t have to tell you,” you counter, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But…” He opts for the childish option. “We tell each other everything.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, “not everything.”

“What is that supposed to mean? You’re keeping things from me?”

“No, I– You know what, just drop it. Why the fuck are you so mad? You embarrassed me tonight. You had no right to just barge in and drag me out of there like I needed to be kept on a leash.”

“I–” he struggles to find the words, and ends up settling for ones that feel like lies. “We’re supposed to be dating! What if someone saw you? What would that look like for me?”

Even if he meant it, it’s a weak argument and he knows it. The restaurant was far enough from campus that the possibility of being recognized by anyone from school was extremely limited.

“That’s what this is about again?” you scoff bitterly. “Your pride? Your precious little reputation? You’ve been using me for months and I let you–”

“I didn’t use you,” he interrupts.

“Didn’t you?” He stays silent after this, and you feel compelled to continue. “Everyone kept telling me to put an end to your shit or I’ll just eventually get hurt. But did I listen? No, of course not, because I’m stupid and because I’m too in– because I’m fucking stupid.”

“No, no, don’t backtrack. Because you’re what?”

You can’t even yell at him, unless you want the entire floor to hear and wake up tomorrow as the latest piece of gossip on campus. You can’t even weep to your heart’s content either. It’s so fucking shitty, but it’s your own damn fault anyway. What were you even expecting? There was no way you could come out of this unscathed.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me not to…”

He knows exactly what you’re referring to. “Not to what?”

You know he won’t let this go, and you’re not sure you have it in yourself to keep it hidden for much longer. You expected that the truth would come out some day, maybe after you’ve figured out a way to get over him and not have to deal with the repercussions of your confession.

But you’re here at that crossroad now, and you’re tired. You’re exhausted, really, from years of yearning for him in secret and trying to kill that longing but failing every time. Your heart can only take so much before it eventually cracks, and it seems like that moment has come sooner than you ever anticipated.

“You can’t expect me not to be in love with you,” you choke on a cry, “more than I already am.”

His eyes widen and his lips part, and every trace of anger from earlier drains from his face. You take a step back as he takes one forward.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” you take in a breath, and unleash your suffering. “I’ve loved you for half our lives. I would do anything for you, but… I don’t know if I can keep going like this anymore. It’s too much.”

Now that the cat is out of the bag, where do you go from here? The answer is simple: You don’t know.

So, you do the only thing you can at this moment. You sit down on the bed, put your head in your hands, and you let the tears flow freely. Your heart is in your throat, and sunken at the pit of your stomach, and lodged between your ribs all at once, because it’s in pieces and there’s nothing that can undo the damage.

Quietly sobbing in front of the boy you’ve always loved, you feel pathetic and broken, and you mourn more things than just the loss of your friendship.

This isn’t a fight.

No, this is the end of life as you know it.

The mattress dips and you immediately scoot away. He freezes, gauging your reaction and thinking if he should reach out to you. You make that decision for him before he could come to his own conclusion.

“Can you just leave?”

Not leave now and we’ll talk when I’ve cooled off; not leave and silently come back tomorrow with my favorite dessert as a peace offering.

Just leave.

You handed him your heart without even telling him; you gave him hold the most sacred piece of you and let him toy with it without realizing what’s in his palm. Now that he knows, he has no idea what to do with it.

The door closes and it feels like something else is ending too. You and him, the most special bond you’ve ever known. The most important part in every chapter of the story of your life…

You think of the friendship that’s been the foundation of who you are, the pillar that holds you up when everything else tries to pin you down. You think of how it’s starting to come undone brick by brick right in front of you, and there’s nothing you can do about it now.

You and him against the world, but now it’s only the world against you.

See? It always implodes.

Jungkook can be dense sometimes. Nudges don’t work on him; he needs to be pushed, shoved, and knocked some sense into before he can start to get his head straight.

He doesn’t know why he calls Nayoung, but he does. Though it’s getting close to midnight, she picks up on the third ring. He doesn’t regard her sleepy voice and a confused hello? and goes right into it.

“Why did we break up?” he asks anxiously.

Not a question that one might expect to hear from an ex nearly a year after the breakup, through the phone in the middle of the night. “I don’t know, you tell me,” she chuckles softly. “You’re the one who ended things.”

“I don’t know either,” Jungkook mimics her words.

Seconds pass, and Nayoung speaks up. “I’ve always thought it was because of Y/N.”

Yeah, he knew she was going to say that.

“Why?”

“I think everyone could see there was at least something there, except for the two of you. You could never really remember my favorite things as well as you did hers. At first, I told myself it was because you’d been friends for so long, and she’s important to you. But then I realized, that wasn’t really the case,” she says calmly, no bitterness in her voice at all though there she does sound sad as she recalls the past. “Sometimes I wished you would look at me the way you look at her.”

If there’s anything that Jungkook feels as he listens to his ex-girlfriend’s words, it’s guilt, and maybe a pang of remorse.

You think he doesn’t see you but he does; he sees you everywhere. You’re on his mind when that spot should be reserved for someone else.

The night when everything went to hell and back, when he was coming to crash your date, he didn’t know what came over him. He was just so frustrated he couldn’t see straight.

As soon as he overheard Yerin and Namjoon talk about you having dinner with Seokjin, he lost all ability to be rational.

Was he upset because you didn’t tell him, or because you were with another guy?

If you had told him about the date, would it have made him feel better?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks. It’s been some months too late for that question now.

“I guess I just wanted you to myself for a while longer.”

“I’m sorry.” He means it.

“Don’t be.” She understands. “You didn’t know.”

It’s scary when people keep tugging at the rug he’s standing on.

When the line is silent for a beat too long, Nayoung takes the initiative. It’s like she can sense that Jungkook’s affliction even through the phone, can picture how the cogs in his head are turning until they bring you to the conclusion that everyone around him has known for years.

“I knew we couldn’t have lasted long,” she says, hoping it’ll give him some comfort. “That’s why when we broke up, I said I hoped you’d work things out with her. You didn’t understand it back then, did you? I’m glad you do now.”

There’s a lot of things about you that are ingrained into Jungkook’s mind, like how you like to watch horror gameplays because you think the gamers’ reactions are funny sometimes and because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to actually play the games.

You like your eggs with runny yolks and lots of pepper; it can be annoying every time you grumble at him for breaking your yolk whenever he makes you breakfast. You’re very particular about your hair and don’t like it when anyone touches or plays with it.

You’ve developed a newfound love for eBooks because they let you highlight quotes you like and post them on Instagram for pretentious purposes. You like to vacuum but hate washing dishes, which is good because Jungkook doesn’t mind it.

Other than a stuffed koala, you have two other plushies that you still sleep with—a bunny and a duck. Jungkook got you the bunny on your 17th birthday while he was taking you stationery shopping before the new school year. The fuzzy toy at a corner store caught your eye and you made him buy it for you; you said it looked like him and wanted to keep it with you whenever you couldn’t see each other. It’s all worn out now, and he tells you that he’ll get you a new and better one but you always refuse. This one has all the memories, you’d say, and nothing can replace that.

You took care of him when he had three wisdom teeth removed all at once; and you nurse his hangovers every time he makes the guys drop him off at your dorm after a night out, because he insists that sleeping at yours is much better than at his own place. When he wakes up in the morning with his brain mushed and pounding, he finds that your presence makes his headache a little more manageable.

He likes to hold your hand because feeling your dainty hands in his much bigger ones makes him smile for some reason. When you cuddle, he likes the softness of your hair and the scent of the hair serum you use.

Jungkook knows whenever he’s being annoying; it’s fun, he likes being a little shithead. He likes how you tolerate his antics and stupid jokes, and he likes how you would also put him in his place if he goes too far and keep him in check.

It’s in the little things. It’s in his daily routine. There’s a special box that he keeps in the center of his mind, labeled with your name, that goes with him everywhere.

He doesn’t like to think about the future; it’s a scary thought and the world can be a terrifying place sometimes. He doesn’t know what his future holds, how his life will change or where it’ll lead him; but every time his mind falls into that pit of existentialism that he dreads, you’re there.

You part the darkness like the sun. Just the thought of you brings him peace when he needs it. You understand him in ways that no one else ever could.

Because you’re his best friend.

You’ve been a part of his life for so long that somewhere along the way, he never realized it when platonic feelings grew into something more.

Nayoung might have been the one to plant the seed, but Eunji was the catalyst. It’s ironic that none of this probably would’ve happened if Eunji hadn’t accidentally brushed up against Jungkook’s stubborn nature.

There’s a reason why he has been avoiding talking to Namjoon lately. Unlike the other men he knows at school, or any man in his life really, Namjoon sees things, and Namjoon knows how to read between the lines.

In hindsight, there’s a list of things he should’ve done differently. He shouldn’t have been so quick to shut his friends down whenever they broached the matter. He should’ve listened to their concerns; that would’ve saved him a lot of time, and he wouldn’t be sitting here alone in the darkness of his room, brooding over how stupid he’s been acting.

After that initial kiss, the spark that has kept him warm for years flared up into an inferno that torches him to his very core. Something in him shifts, like a light bulb being switched on for the very first time. He had thought about kissing you a few times before that, when he was drunk and you happened to be nearby. But after the fact, kissing you was everything that plagued his mind.

Now, Jungkook knows that’s not how friends are supposed to behave. They aren’t supposed to spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about the other’s lips. They aren’t supposed to be consumed with blind jealousy at the prospect of the other with a romantic interest.

They’re not supposed to want the other how he wants you.

This can go either way. What happens after the realization—that nothing will ever be the same again?

The earth shatters, of course, and the world ends.

None of his relationships have ever hit the one-year mark, and even with Nayoung, he never could find it in himself to tell her he loved her. Maybe there’s a reason for that.

Maybe that reason is because the space in his heart has always been occupied.

You’ve been replaying your last conversation with Jungkook in your head ever since it happened.

When you told Yerin about it, she didn’t say I told you so or reiterate how you should’ve listened to her in the first place. She just sat there and listened to you recant the entire story of that night. She held you and brushed your hair back as you cried. It made you feel better that she let you unburden yourself somewhat with a sobbing session, but it wasn’t enough. Your heart was still broken.

Two weeks have passed, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him. Since that night, Jungkook tried texting you numerous times, to which you didn’t reply. Most of his messages were apologies though you doubt he knew what he was apologizing for. To be honest, you’re not sure you know either. It’s not his fault, not really.

Then, he started leaving you voicemails but they still said the same things as his texts. You didn’t call him back, and it’s been a couple of days since he last tried. In the absence of any communication, you wonder if he’ll try again.

When someone knocks on your door, you expect it to be Yerin coming to check on you again even though she just came over this morning with a box of brownies that you haven’t finished yet. Instead, it’s the person you’ve been dreading and wanting to see at the same time.

“Nice,” Jungkook says, pointing to your old Mojo Jojo t-shirt that never fails to make him chuckle.

He looks like shit, eyes puffy and red like he’s been crying. You don’t reckon you look any better.

The conversation starts the same way it did the last time. “What are you doing here?”

He scratches his neck and peers at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “Can I come in?”

Your hand tightens on the doorknob in a way that he doesn’t miss, and you hesitate for a minute before you retreat back into the room, leaving the door open so he can follow. You go to sit on the bed, and he tentatively sits next to you but still cautious enough to leave some space between your bodies.

Minutes pass, and it’s silent. Neither one of you can read the other like you used to; it’s unsettling to say the least.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, his voice cuts above the tension in the room and hangs over your head like a black cloud.

This is it. This is it.

This is the part where he tells you that he loves you, but not in that way. That he only sees you as a friend; there’s nothing between you other than platonic feelings. You’ve spent all your life preparing for this moment, and yet nothing can truly ever brace your heart for what’s about to come.

“I never told you why me and Nayoung broke up,” Jungkook starts, and confusion seeps into your features. “She wanted me to meet her parents and I… I just couldn’t do it. I knew I liked her, but I couldn’t see myself taking that next step with her, or with anyone… And you know why I told Eunji that you and I wanted to try dating? She thought I’d never get my shit together and confess,” he chuckles humorlessly as he recalls the memory. “Even then I still didn’t know. I just wanted to prove that she was wrong.”

You’re not really sure why he has to drag out the act of breaking your heart. You turn to look at him. Doe eyes on the verge of tears. It makes you want to cry more than you already do.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“To be honest, I don’t think I know either,” he says. “I know I should give you time, and that I’m being selfish for even being here, but I just wanted to see you.” His voice breaks at the end, and you break along with it. “I just wanted to see you.”

Your fists clench in your lap as you bite the inside of your cheek. He’s making this so hard for you, and his next words throw you in for a loop.

“I think… I think I might be in love with you.”

“Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls out the sketchbook from his backpack and hands it to you. The leather is worn, even more so than the last time you saw it and it melts your insides just a little bit.

“Open it.”

“Jungkoo–”

“Please,” he says, his voice unsteady. “Please just open it.”

As you flip through the pages, it’s mostly sketches that you’ve seen before.

Then, you come across a crumbled page, ripped from its home and clumsily taped back into the journal. On the page was an outline of a person, and you can only make out that it’s a figure of a girl, someone you don’t recognize for the lack of details. Anyone can tell that he doesn’t get a lot of practice when it comes to drawing people.

But you do recognize the surroundings, drawn much more intricately, and you realize it’s the beach you went to two summers ago.

Over the next few pages, it’s still the same outline, still the same girl only in different settings, but ones that you’re all too familiar with.

The figure gets more detailed the more you go through his sketchbook, and by the time you’ve reached the latest addition, it’s clear who the girl is supposed to be.

It’s you.

You at the local flea market; you at the campus cafe, hunched over a notebook and an iced latte; you in his hometown where you visit his parents every once in a while.

And… you, that day Jungkook kissed you, with the convenience store in the background, near the corner of the page. The girl in the drawing is much more beautiful than you think you could ever be.

When a teardrop lands on the paper, you realize you’ve been crying. He’s beside you now, having shuffled closer while you were too immersed in the journal. His arm brushes yours, and when you turn to him, you see that he’s crying too.

“That day,” he starts, fingers ghosting over the sketch of you, “I lied to you about seeing Eunji. I just wanted to kiss you, but I was a coward, and I was scared of having thoughts about you that friends shouldn’t have about each other.”

You wipe away the tears from his cheek and he instantly leans into your touch. His lips wobble slightly as you look at each other; everything unsaid now out in the open, settling in between the two of you, waiting for someone to make the next move.

“Jungkook…”

“If you want me to leave, I will,” he whispers, sniffling and holding onto your wrist. “Do you want me to leave?”

You don’t know what to say other than no.

“I’m sorry… for not realizing it sooner.”

You give him a teary smile. “It’s okay,” you say, though it hasn’t been okay. You’ve been miserable these last two weeks, and every so often these past years of your life.

Old habits die hard; you always want to appease him. But if there’s ever a good time to forgive him for all of it, you think it might as well be now.

His gaze drops to your mouth, making your heart speed up as you wait for him. A shaky hand cups your face like if his fingers brush your cheek the wrong way, it might undo all the progress he’s made.

Jungkook visibly gulps as he leans closer, his breath fanning your mouth softly until he finally presses his lips to yours.

Kindred spirits meeting each other for the first time again.

The count resets to 1. None of the kisses you’ve had before mean anything; the only ones that matter are ones that you share from now on.

When your lungs burn, he pulls away and chuckles breathlessly. His eyes are still glassy from tears, and it only emphasizes the galaxy that resides in them, an entire cosmos in those chocolate eyes that calls out your name with every twinkle of light.

You go in for another kiss, and another one, and another one… until your hearts start to feel a little fuller and the ache gradually becomes a distant memory,

Gloomy days where you know the sun is hiding behind that thick curtain of clouds but just won’t come out.

The clouds part and golden sunlight starts to peek through. It’s brighter than anything he’s seen before but he thinks he’ll manage just fine.

He’s got his best friend right by his side.

“It’s for real this time?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook skeptically. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“Yes, Tae, it’s real.” The younger man rolls his eyes but smiles as he utters the words.

You’re in Yerin’s bedroom, helping with each other’s hair and makeup for a university dinner that you’re all going to tonight, while the guys wait in the living room, having already donned their suits.

Taehyung throws his head back and groans in frustration as he reaches into his pocket. Jungkook opens his mouth, about to ask what’s with the reaction to his good news, but stops when he notices a wild Yoongi appear with his palm open.

Taehyung pulls out his wallet and slaps a few bills onto the awaiting hand, which quickly snatches them up as Yoongi scuttles back to his seat with a grin.

Jungkook frowns. “What was that?”

“We had a bet,” Taehyung grumbles, taking a cookie on the coffee table and throwing it into his mouth. As he chews and talks, chocolate chip crumbs fall onto his dress shirt. “On whether or not you would step up and confess.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens even further as he looks between his friends. At this point, he really shouldn’t be surprised that literally everyone but him has known all along. “Wha– Wait, you betted against me?”

“Man, I love you, and trust me when I say I was rooting for you, but your head was so far up your ass, it didn’t look like you were ever getting out of there.”

Jungkook’s brows shoot into his forehead in disbelief and maybe betrayal too, and he has a retort ready to launch at Taehyung though he’s interrupted by the sound of a door opening, followed by heels clicking on the wooden floor.

He isn’t allowed a chance to get a good look at you before you’re already tucking yourself into his side, with your head resting on his shoulder. Across from you, Yerin has already taken her usual spot on the couch beside Namjoon.

There’s something twinkling in Namjoon’s eyes as he looks at Yerin, but it can’t compare to the cluster of galaxies shining in Jungkook’s as he takes you in.

“What are we talking about?” you ask, tipping your head back to look up at him.

“We,” Taehyung chimes in before Jungkook can answer, “are talking about what a dumbass your boyfriend is.”

Heat rises from your neck and further accentuates the rose-colored blush on your cheeks at the word “boyfriend”. When you try to look down and hide your face, Jungkook grabs your chin between his fingers to hold your head in place as he offers you a quick kiss, brushing off Taehyung’s teasing words because you’re right there in his arms, looking all pretty and shy. It’s not everyday that he gets to see you dolled up like this.

His sudden action makes you even more flustered though. You clear your throat and fiddle with his hand that falls from your face to your lap, while your friends watch the interaction with fond smiles.

To the outside world, to anyone who isn’t privy to the whole fiasco that happened over the past months, everything is still the same. But to your little band of thieves, everything has changed.

That night, Jungkook takes you back to his place.

Truth be told, the prospect of having sex with him didn’t cross your mind until tonight. There was something about him in a dashing suit and his hair styled in a way that made him even more handsome than he already is, that had you clenching your thighs together during the dinner.

Jungkook knows you’re significantly less experienced than him. You’ve only had sex once before and you didn’t even finish. Not to pin the blame on the other guy though; that was your first time, it’s understandable that you couldn’t fully relax.

But now, as you lie underneath your best friend with his lips sucking on your neck and one of his hands squeezing your ass, the nerves decide to make an appearance.

You feel like a virgin again.

You’ve never really let yourself think about Jungkook and his skills in bed; it stings a little too much to imagine him sleeping with other girls even though you know he does. Sometimes Jungkook would tell you if he had a one-night stand the day before—not in detail, because you’d normally shut it down and change the topic.

Your heart hammers in your ribcage as he pulls down the straps of your bra. When he unhooks the garment and throws it to the floor, you can’t help but cross your arms over your chest and look away timidly.

He cups your cheek and turns your head to look at you. “Hey, it’s me,” he whispers. “It’s just me. You don’t have to hide from me. You never have to hide from me.”

As you gaze at him, you realize that he’s right. It’s safe there in those iridescent eyes of his. You know he means it when he promises not to jeopardize your heart ever again.

“Do you trust me?” Jungkook asks softly, fingers brushing away the hair that frames your face.

You do. Unconditionally, willingly, ardently. There’s no doubt about it now.

“Yes,” you whisper. Untangling your arms, you wrap them around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You can’t get over how soft his lips are against your own, or how it seems like you’re floating with every sound you pull from him.

When you break away for air, he trails his mouth along your jawline, your neck, your collarbone and then your chest. He takes one breast in his mouth and sucks on your nipple until it hardens against his tongue. You weave your fingers through his hair as he licks your perky bud, arching into him and moaning when he switches sides to give your other breast the same attention.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip when he releases your nipple with a wet pop! and kisses his way down the path of your stomach to your clothed heat. Your hand leaves his hair to grip the bed sheets, your heart stuttering in anticipation as he neglects your core entirely and goes to suck hickeys into your inner thighs.

You can feel yourself get wetter with every swipe of Jungkook’s tongue on your skin, and you’re sure that he can smell your arousal even through your panties at such close proximity.

“Please,” you beg. “I need you to do something, I need you…”

“Patience,” he tsks as he comes up to hover above you again but still keeps his hand on your thigh, fingers dancing closer to your cunt until he finally makes contact. “I’ll make you feel good.”

As he rubs you over your panties, you moan against his mouth, and he swears the sound could make him combust right then and there.

“Jungkook…” you whimper softly, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. Your breath hitches and you look like you could cry just from this alone. God, there’s nothing he would love more than to ruin you.

His knee nudges your legs further apart as he devours your lips, his free hand palming your breast and pinching your nipple. Your panties start to become soaked, leaving his fingers a little sticky even through the lace.

“Jungkook,” you whine again, tugging on his wrist.

“Mhmm?” He teases your clothed entrance, making you buck into his hand. “What do you want, baby?”

You might be inexperienced, but you’re definitely not a prude.

“Your–your fingers… please…”

He smirks against your mouth before pulling away to slide your underwear off your legs. He comes back to his previous position above you, kissing you and fondling your tits again. Deft digits land directly on your bare pussy, nothing to separate you from him.

He slips a finger inside, and you immediately clench at the intrusion.

“Relax for me,” Jungkook coos and rubs your clit with his thumb to help you loosen up. It feels nice though the discomfort is still there, and you know the more you focus on trying to ease into it, the more it backfires.

“That’s easier said than done,” you breathe, holding onto his wrist as he continues to pump into you. His lips find your chest and he sucks a tit harshly into his mouth. He can tell how much you like it from the wetness that gushes out of you, and he grants you another finger.

“Feel good?” he purrs, alternating between licking and biting your nipple.

You buck your hips to meet his fingers and cry out with every thrust of his hand. “So… so good…”

He scissors your pussy open and revels in the wet squelches in the air. It sends blood rushing straight to his cock, which strains uncomfortably in his boxers.

“Can you take one more?” he asks, mouth hot against your breast.

“I think so,” you moan, surprisingly excited to be stuffed with his fingers. Jungkook continues to swirl his tongue around your nipple as he pushes another digit inside your heat. “Nghhh…”

It’s a bit tight at first, but your body obeys him after a few thrusts; your walls stretch to comfortably suck his fingers in.

You really don’t know if it usually feels this good, or if it’s just Jungkook and his hands, his mouth, everything, in particular that can make your body react like this. You’re close to floating, transcending, with his every movement.

Obscene and wet sounds fill your ears, his warm lips on your body, his slender fingers bringing you to the edge…

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you rasp out.

“Cum then. You can do it,” he whispers and trails upward to kiss your cheek. “Such a good girl. Come on…” You lose your damn mind every time his digits slide in and out, and the wet sounds of him fingering your pussy only add to the pressure in your stomach.

He curls his fingers two, three times and you’re done for. Your nails dig into his arm as you scream his name, tears spilling from your eyes. He wants to tattoo the raised tone of your voice onto his brain for rainy days, and maybe every other day in between.

Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm and then some. When he pulls his hand away from your battered cunt, he smirks at the sight of it soaked in your essence. You watch him spread the mess you made on his fingers and put them in his mouth. Euphoria washes over you as he tastes you, moaning while he does so.

If he can make you cry with just his fingers, he can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when you cream all over his cock.

He might not have been your first time but he’s the first person to ever make you cum, and that’s an even better honor for him.

He leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to let you taste yourself. “Mhmm,” you moan and pull him closer until you feel his cock against your thigh, hard and heavy. When you palm him over his underwear, he gasps into your mouth, and you feel a small wet patch from where his precum stains his boxers.

“I want you…” you whisper languidly and grip him tighter.

“You have me,” he reassures, though it’s not exactly what you meant. He kisses you once more before sitting up to remove his last article of clothing. His cock, angry and leaking, slaps against his abs and you can’t help but bite your lip.

You’ve only seen and had one dick before, but even you know that Jungkook’s would be categorized as how-the-actual-fuck-will-it-fit big.

He fists his length and gives it a few pumps, smirking when he finds your eyes trained on his hand and its movements, bottom lip between your teeth while you’re still spread out for him. Your pussy drips onto his sheets from renewed arousal.

He turns away from you to grab a condom from his wallet on the floor, tears into the foil to take out the rubber and rolls it over his shaft.

“You ready?” he asks as he guides the tip to your slit, rubbing it against your folds to collect more wetness so he can slide in easier. Jungkook teases you a little, nudging your clit with his cock and relishing in the tiny moan you let slip out.

“Fuck me,” you say softly. It feels unreal to hear you—his best friend—utter these words to him. “Ah…” you mewl when he pushes in. Despite having been stretched by three of his fingers, his cock is a little too much for you.

He makes it about halfway in before he stills, waiting for you to open up. “It’s just me,” he repeats his sentiments from earlier and kisses you, hoping that it’ll help you relax and take him in completely.

It does work, sort of. Your pussy swallows a couple more inches of his length but he still can’t bottom out in this position. He tries fucking you like this, maybe your walls will stretch out more once you get into it but as soon as your brows knit in evident discomfort, he stops entirely.

“Am I hurting you?” His voice is rushed, worried. “Do you want to stop?”

“No! No, I– I want to keep going. It’s just…”

You huff out a breath in frustration, and Jungkook sees right through you, on the verge of blaming yourself and your body for something that isn’t your fault.

“Let me try something,” he says and pecks your lips again. He pulls out of you carefully and sits back against the headboard as he helps you climb on top of him. “Might make it easier.”

He holds your hips as you hover over his cock; the tip circles your entrance and you moan lowly, your hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself.

You sink down on him slowly, letting out shaky breaths until you’ve completely taken everything in. He rubs your hips soothingly as your walls stretch around his shaft.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek.

You shake your head and lean into his touch. “No, I just need a minute.”

“Okay.”

After a moment passes, Jungkook watches you reach for his hand and guide it toward your bundle of nerves, silently asking him to play with your clit while your pussy readies itself for him, and fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he has seen anyone do. You moan when his thumb rubs figure eights into your swollen bud, your hips starting to move on their own accord to seek pleasure.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you lift your body experimentally from his cock and sink down again, making the both of you moan at the feeling of him gliding along your velvety walls with more ease.

The position is a little awkward because you don’t exactly know how to move on top of him.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “Go at your own pace.”

Though your rhythm is a bit off, you do it again, and again, and again, until you’re a moaning mess on top of him, fucking yourself on his cock while he watches, absolutely mesmerized by you. Breathless cries slip from your lips as Jungkook continues to stimulate your clit, your tits slightly jiggling with every movement, your eyes rolling back in bliss and he hasn’t even begun to do anything yet.

Fuck. He really needs to ruin you.

He presses his hips to yours to keep his dick from slipping out of you as he flips the both of you over. You look so pretty pinned underneath him like this that he twitches and grows even harder inside you.

“I want…” he trails off and gulps, looking for words as you stare at him quizzically, your walls unintentionally clenching around him. “I want to wreck your pretty little pussy. I want to fuck you so hard, you’ll be feeling me for days. Will you let me do that, hmm? Can I show you how much I love you?”

Hearing his crude words, you almost go into cardiac arrest. The way he’s looking at you could puncture your skin; his eyes darken with unfiltered lust that it turns you on unbelievably more. “Yes, please…” You nod, eager to have him prove to you that he means it.

Jungkook pulls back until just the tip is in you before he plunges forward, making you choke on a moan and your eyes roll back into your head.

It starts out slow at first; he wants to make sure that you’re fully ready for him before he picks up the pace. When you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer and raise your hips to meet his thrusts, he begins to settle into a faster rhythm, fucking into you with heightened desire and desperation.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls. “You feel so good.”

“Jungkook ah…”

Your eyes screw shut as you let the intense pleasure take over your entire body. The room fills up with your wanton moans and sinful sounds of skin slapping.

“Fuck me. Would you look at that?” He sounds like he’s whispering to himself, but you open your eyes to see what he’s talking about anyway.

Jungkook’s eyes are transfixed on the sight of his cock in your pussy, glistening with your juices every time he pulls out and gets even wetter every time he dives back in.

While he’s focused on that, there’s something else that catches your attention.

Your hand slides across your body and comes to a stop at your stomach. “Jungkook,” you stutter when he delivers a particular hard thrust and you clench around him. “You’re so big…”

He trails his eyes up to where your hand is, and his mind immediately blanks.

No thoughts, head empty.

Knock knock, is anybody home?

“Fuck,” he grunts out, “fuck!”

Your stomach bulges with the faint outline of his cock as he pounds you into the mattress. He covers your hand with his own and slightly presses down on it, savoring the gasp that escapes from you.

You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he thoroughly fucks you and your cunt swallows up what he gives you.

“Please,” you rasp out, “harder…”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He doesn’t give you time to respond, though if he did, you don’t think your brain could come up with any coherent sentences right now. He caresses your belly to let both of you feel his cock driving into you before his hand slips down to rub your clit. Jungkook slants his mouth over yours to swallow your surprised moan, and you feel dizzy all of a sudden.

Is this what coming home feels like? The yearning, the longing, the wanting but never having… it’s been years, it’s all you can remember. But now that it’s finally happening, you can’t find it in yourself to believe in the reality of it.

Jungkook loves you, in the way that you’ve always wanted him to. He’s here—he’s really here—taking this leap with you and no amount of gratitude toward the universe will ever be enough to convey how euphoric you feel—body and soul—in this moment.

You call out his name breathlessly, your walls fluttering around his cock as you hold onto his biceps. “I–I’m…” Your cheeks are stained with overflowing tears; the pleasure sending you into overdrive as you sob out brokenly.

“I know, I can feel it,” he murmurs. “Cum for me, baby, hmm? I love you… Love you so much…”

He flicks your clit as he fucks you harder, faster than before, his thick cock repeatedly nudging your G-spot. He keeps the pace until you’re practically writhing in his arms, his name falling from your lips like a mantra and stars exploding behind your eyes.

Your juices soak his cock as Jungkook continues to fuck you, to help you ride out your high and chase his own. You’re still whimpering even after you’ve come down, and all he can think about is how he would give you the moon if you asked.

“Koo…” You bring your hands up to push back the sweat-slicked hair from his handsome face and pull him down for a sloppy kiss. Your tongue plays with his while he’s still toying with your clit. “Cum for me,” you whisper against his mouth. “Wanna see you cum for me…”

If he were to die right this second, he thinks it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

You’re so wet, and tight, and warm. He feels your pussy pulsate and throb around him and he wishes that there wasn’t a fucking condom in the way.

One more thrust, two more… and his hips are stuttering as he shoots into the condom. His mouth hangs open with whispers of your name and his eyebrows are knitted in pure bliss; he’s so fucking beautiful like this that you can’t help but squeeze your cunt around him. He seems to like it, so you do it again, hoping to prolong his pleasure. “Fuck, baby…”

Silence overwhelms the space around you now that you’re both still, basking in a post-orgasmic haze. You look at him with a lazy grin that he returns, and he tilts his head adorably as he wipes away the remainder of your tears.

Yeah, this must be what coming home feels like.

His tender eyes gazing down at you, his contented smile blooming just for you, his heart beating in tandem with yours… Jungkook is the safest place you know.

Even if being a shithead is inherent to who he is as a person. Even if he believes there’s a divine power in the banana milk at the local convenience store. Even if he has no regard for your stash of emergency snacks. Even then, he’s your person.

Even then, he’s your home.

It’s been a long time coming.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #btswritingcafe #btscarnivalnet #btshoneyhive #btsgoldnet #clubzerooclock #52hertz #bangtaninn #fic: strictly platonic

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here4kpopfics · 2 years

Text

Leave the Door Open | JJK

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Pairing: neighbor!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, a dash of fluff, humor

AU: Strangers to lovers. Or Strangers to fwb? Up to you.

Wordcount: 7,367. oops

Summary: Based off this request. Your neighbor loves to sing karaoke in the middle of the night. You finally get fed up and confront him about it. Except when he opens the door, you realize you’re screwed. He’s gorgeous.

Warnings: Language. All the warnings are smut warnings.

Smut warnings: Explicit sex. Protected sex. Light choking/breath play. Pet names (Sparkles and baby) 69ing oral (both receiving). Light anal play/rim job. Spanking. Biting. Bulge kink. technically cum eating at the end? multiple orgasms. He makes her cry it feels so good. I feel like I’m missing something else. This is just porn with a very baseline plot

Rating: M / 18+

AN: How did we get here you ask? Well @here2bbtstrash made a request and I was just clocking off work and decided “yes. I wish to suffer. I have an idea” and spent the next 24 hours writing porn. Literally a day after posting my first smut. This is for M, but I hope you all enjoy. And as usual, thank you to the oh so beautiful @jjkeverlast for beta-reading for me. and @chryblossomjjk for enabling me with some of these kinks. 🥵 Banner and Divider made by the beautiful @classicseffects

and as usual, please leave feedback. Either with a reblog or send me an ask. It’s greatly appreciated. 💜

It’s been a long day. You had three sets of parents chew you out about the store you work at being out of stock of a specific item. No matter how many times you calmly tell them you have no control over the store’s inventory because you are just an associate, a cashier that never works the floor and couldn’t even begin to tell you where to locate said items. Not your department, not your problem. If your managers really wanted it to be your problem, they should pay you more. But they don’t, and instead schedule you at ridiculous hours and expect the world from you in return.

It’s finally 9PM which means you get to clock out and bolt home. You’re already planning the instant ramen pack and what to add with it from the convenience door next to your apartment building as you walk out the doors of hell. You want the spicy one. Should mix in an egg or something to bring the spice down a little bit, though. Maybe a bottle of soju as a treat? And absolutely some snacks and it’d be a crime not to get ice cream.

The whole bus ride home all you can think about is making the food, settling on the couch and watching the most recent kdrama and judging the couple’s miscommunication issues. Maybe a nice bath too. Oh that’d be nice. You’d light some candles, bring the soju in with you, and just stay in the tub with a nice bath bomb. You pray your neighbor isn’t home so you can have some silence.

You’ve never met your neighbor. He’s literally the apartment next to you, your bedroom shares a wall with what you assume is his bedroom as well. You’re not sure, but going off on the layout of the apartment complex and how similar every unit is, you assume it’s the bedroom. That and the few times you’d heard him bring a friend over and had been able to hear every moan and grunt from both parties. Although you could’ve sworn you heard three at one point. But it was always done on the weekends so it was fine. You weren’t too bothered by his sexcapades. Who were you to judge? If given the opportunity, you’d be bringing people home left and right. But the idea of all that flirting for just a one night stand seemed like too much effort.

Your problem with this mystery neighbor, however, is his karaoke habit. He has the voice of an angel and can sing anything with little effort. You actually enjoy listening to him sing, even softly singing along with him during the day. However, it’s not that often that it happens because he would usually carry out his karaoke escapades after 11PM and continue well into the night, usually around 3 or 4 in the morning. And always on weekdays, when you need the most sleep. You tried to work up the courage to confront him one night, but right when you left your apartment, he stopped and his place was silent. Another night, you just pounded the wall begging him to stop. He did eventually. But not until your thumps on the wall got lighter from you being too tired.

You finally enter your apartment, with the results of a successful quest for sustenance in your clutches. You slip off your shoes at the door, Toss your purse on the counter and begin preparing food. Mission: eat and drink everything and feel no regrets is a go.

While the water is boiling, you head to your room to change. You rip off your bra and your pants and grab a giant t-shirt that you’re pretty sure you accidentally stole from a one night stand years and years ago and have been too afraid to contact him again. So it’s yours now. It’s soft and not too thick. And it’s huge, which you love because it makes you look super tiny. You take note of how quiet it currently is on the neighbor's side. You wonder if he’s even home. Not your problem. You remind yourself as you return to the kitchen and get back to food prep.

It’s now close to midnight and you have eaten all the ramen, grazed across all the snacks, had a good amount of the ice cream, and gone through two and a half bottles of soju and were feeling pretty good. You grow bored of the kdrama and decide it’s time to take that super relaxing bath you daydreamed about on the bus. Your neighbor still makes no noise on the other side, so you take this moment to enjoy some peace and quiet.

You run the bath, light the assorted candles, and toss the bath bomb in before easing into the slightly too hot water full of oils, pretty colors, and an obscene amount of glitter. You put your hair up and slide down the tub in pure relaxation mode. Trying to erase the horrid customers from earlier. There’s no sounds save for the water dripping out of the tap and any movements you make against the water.

The problem with relaxing like this in your tub is your breasts aren’t fully submerged in the water. They could be, but then the water would overflow. The cool air hits your sensitive buds, causing you to clench your thighs together. After a few more breezes tease your nipples, you say screw it and reach your hand down between your legs, looking for any kind of friction. Your fingers find your bundle of nerves underwater and begin moving against it in a figure 8 motion. You whimper softly, entering two fingers past your folds, using your palm and the water to continue to work against your clit. Your other hand is massaging a breast, twisting and pulling the nipple every now and again. You could feel the knot in your stomach begin to burn, already so close to release. So close. Just right there. Right there, oh god right the - !

“Give me your, give me your, give me your attention, baby. I got to tell you a little something about yourself. You're wonderful, flawless, ooh, you a sexy lady. But you walk around here like you wanna be someone else.”

What. The. Fuck?

The sudden sound of your neighbor singing and the music blaring through every crack in the walls sends your hand flying away from your center, killing any chance at an orgasm. Your sudden movement causes the water to slosh over the edge and you hastily make to get out of the tub. You get one leg over onto the floor but it lands on a puddle of water and sends you flying forward. You brace your hands in front of you to catch on the countertop before you slam your face into it. Your other leg doesn’t go the right height to get over the tub and instead slams into the side of it. You let out a sudden cry or pain, finally steadying yourself against the counter.

You give yourself a few seconds to assess what the hell just happened. You were masturbating. It was great. You were so close to coming. And then your stupid neighbor decided right then was the time to sing Bruno Mars. And you almost died getting out of the tub. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You catch your breath, until you realize he’s still fucking singing. “That’s it. I’ve fucking had it.” Your voice is laced with hatred as you grab a towel and wrap it around your damp body, not giving a shit about the way you look. You need to give him a piece of your mind and you need to do it now while you have courage, amplified by the soju. You don’t even bother putting on your sandals as you march out your door, turning 90 degrees left and again until you’re facing his door. You take a deep breath and begin pounding on the door, mentally preparing which vile words would come out first. The music stops and you can hear footsteps approaching, but you keep knocking away until the door finally opens.

“You don’t have to keep knocking ya know, I heard the first three.” He has the audacity to sound annoyed with YOU making too much noise? Seriously? You open your mouth to retort back such thoughts when you finally catch a glance at the beautiful sounding singer with horrible timing that you want to strangle to death.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

He’s slightly taller than you. Black hair cut almost like a mullet. With his bangs split down the middle. A lip ring attached to his bottom lip. Big round eyes and a nose you immediately deem the cutest nose to exist. A few freckles scattered across his face and neck in the best places, you decide the one under his lip is your favorite. He’s leaning against the door wearing a matching pajama set of black silk with gray rectangles lining the entirety of it. His sleeves are rolled up and fuck he has a tattoo sleeve. You're ruined.

Your extremely attractive mystery neighbor just stares at you and you’re staring back, lips parted, still trying to find the words you were going to say before you knew you were going to say them to the prettiest man ever. Finally you just grab whatever words you can find so that it’s not silent.

“Fuck me…” his eyebrow quirks up and he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Sure, but at least tell me your name first.”

“What?” You frown.

“Unless you want to stick to nicknames. I’m down with whatever. You can be Sparkly Towel Girl. Though it doesn’t really roll off the tongue as well…” He smirks and it finally clicks in your head what just happened.

You’re in a towel. Only a towel. Your hair is a mess. You have glitter from the bath bomb glued to your skin that is actually still wet. And you just told him to fuck you. Your cheeks heat up and your eyes go wide. “No! No no no not what I meant.”

“You mean you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No!” You scoff trying to sound offended. “Why would I want to have sex with you?” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, baby. You’re the one at my doorstep at 12:30 in the morning sopping wet in a towel sparkling like a fairy saying fuck me.”

“No I don’t. That’s not.” You’re very hyper aware of the towel now and tighten it around your chest, praying he both does and doesn’t see the way your cleavage pushes up. You cover your face, trying to rewind back to when you were angry. What were you angry about?

OH. The karaoke!

“I was taken aback. That’s why I said what I said. But that’s not important. What’s important,” you huff, welcoming back your anger with open arms, “is your constant need to sing in the middle of the fucking night on weekdays only. Do you have no consideration for your neighbors who work late nights and early mornings every day? I can accept you having obnoxious sex on the weekends, but keep the singing to day time hours, yeah? I’d like to get a good night’s rest at some point in my life.”

You rush your words, trying to put emphasis on you needing sleep, because you do. You were tired of sleeping only a few hours a night. Even then, it was constantly interrupted by this man’s beautiful voice. You look him in the eye, looking for any form of acknowledgement, until he silently nods. “Okay. No more singing at midnight. I’m sorry.” He almost sounds sincere and you’re willing to accept it and move on.

You make a small enough curtsy that your towel will allow and mutter a thank you before turning to leave. Just as you get back to your door, Sexy Neighbor speaks.

“You gonna tell me your name though, or am I going to have to call you Sparkly Towel Girl every time?”

You turn back to him with a softer glare this time. “Depends. You gonna tell me yours or am I going to have to call you Attractive Pajama Man?”

“So you think I’m attractive.” The most obnoxious grin forms on his lips.

“You know you are.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the door handle.

“Could say the same about you, Sparkles.” He’s having fun teasing you. But his tone turns more serious when he finally looks down at your leg. “Hey you okay?”

You look back at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah, just a little traumatized and embarrassed but I’ll live” you joke, trying to make this as fast as possible so you can get back inside.

“No, I mean your leg. It’s bruised. And swollen.” You look down and gasp. Somehow in the span of you falling out of the tub and stomping over here to give me pleasant conversation has resulted in a gnarly bump forming on your shin as well as a deep bruise.

“Oh. That’s. That’s nothing. Ignore that ever happening. It didn’t.” You turn your door handle as he steps away from his door.

“You should probably go see a doctor. Or at least some ice packs. I have some in my freezer.” He actually sounds concerned as he starts stepping closer to you, eyes still honed in on the bruise.

“No, it's fine. I’m fine. Goodnight, stop singing in the middle of the night please, that's all I ask. Okay goodbye.” You open the door, swiftly rush inside and close the door before he can get to you.

Once you lock your door and head back to the bathroom to rinse off the glitter, you realize that glitter is just a way of life. No matter if you want it or not. It’s going to be stuck to you for days and follow where you go. You take a look at your leg and wince as you lightly touch it. It doesn’t feel broken, thank god. It’s just deep and super painful. You change back into pajamas and crawl into bed with an ice pack, pain relievers, and extra pillows to elevate your leg. You take the pills and settle in, scrolling through your phone until you fall asleep. Sexy neighbor man didn’t sing the rest of the night.

He actually didn’t sing the rest of the week.

He couldn’t. The sexy towel girl at his door looked exhausted. He genuinely had no idea you could hear him. He never heard you make any noises from your shared wall. Originally he was going to just keep singing. One cute girl wasn’t going to tell him what to do. But when he saw the bruise on your leg, he felt overwhelmed with guilt. He could only assume you got it when you rushed to knock on his door by how fresh it was.

So instead of singing around midnight. He had a hard cut off time at 10:45 and then switched to headphones where he would only sing as softly as he could as far away from the shared wall as possible.

What bothered him the most was he still didn’t know your name. He could easily go down to the mailbox room and find your number and therefore your name. But he didn’t want to do that. He wanted you to say it. And for you to say his name. He just had to find the right moment. Which was difficult when you seemed to always be out.

Five days later, he’s working out in his living room. Yes, it’s midnight. Yes, there’s a gym in this building. But he’s got to stay just in case. He’s beginning to lose hope in ever seeing you again, ignoring how ridiculous that sounds when you literally share a wall with him. And it’s only been five days. As he finishes a set of push ups, hope is restored. You’re home. And you’re loud? He freezes, trying to imagine what you're doing just by listening. You’re actually laughing but it doesn’t sound genuine. It almost sounds painful, like you’re angry? A few moments later, he hears music. It’s loud, and he chuckles to himself.

“Let’s see what happens, Sparkles.” He heads to the bathroom, removing all of his clothes and stepping in the shower to briefly wash off the sweat. He steps out and wraps a towel around his hips. He leaves the shoes just like you did and heads straight to your door, pounding on it in the exact same manner you did.

You’re dancing around the kitchen, clothes strewn about the floor as a result of you rushing to change into the giant shirt again with just your underwear underneath. You just got to the chorus, brand new bottle of whiskey in hand and are about to go hard into the dance when someone starts pounding on your front door, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You swing the door open, not caring that your legs and hips were on full display, and are met with you could only assume a hallucination.

You both eye one another up and down, unable to speak. Your eyes are locked on the towel, specifically the corner of the towel that’s tucked into itself to stay attached to his hips. You’re not sure if you’re drooling from your mouth, but you know another place is. Finally, he clears his throat and grabs your attention away from the towel.

“I think I see what you meant. It’s a bit hard to focus when that’s what I’m greeted with.” He tries to hide the devilish smile he gestures to your legs. You hum, not really sure if you’re agreeing, and if you are, to what. Your focus is back on the towel and the abs above it. You want to scratch them. You want to mark any part of him you can. He tilts his head, trying to get your attention a second time. “Sparkles? You okay?”

You finally make eye contact with him. “Sparkles?” You question in a whisper, suddenly remembering the last encounter. “Oh…right…” You hum in response again and then look at the bottle of whiskey in your hand and then back to him, his mouth specifically, down to that damn towel, and back to the whiskey. You shrug as if someone made a good point and put the bottle down on the side table next to you. You smile something sinister and reach out for the towel, tugging him inside, with him closing the door behind himself.

“This is a better option than whiskey.” You let go of the stubborn towel still attached and reach up to wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours in a needy kiss. His eyes widen, hands going for your waist, pulling away from your lips

“What is happening right now?” He sounds so serious and you hate it, so you reach back for his lips when he shuts you down again. “First of all. You’re drunk. So this is not happening.”

“I’m not drunk…I was going to. Brand new whiskey. See?” You pick the bottle back up, showing off its perfectly unbroken seal. “You can even smell my breath. Not a lick of liquor. Very sad. But now you’re here. That's way better.” You pull him back down to you and capture his lips again, this time he returns it in full, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“As much as I appreciate being considered better than alcohol, and glad you can consciously consent,” he smiles into the kiss, “there’s one more thing, Sparkles.”

“Hmm?” You moan out. He kisses down your chin, across your neck, and buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and leaving marks along the way.

“I need to know your name, sweetheart. And you need mine.”

“I don’t need yours.” You mumble back. He laughs, pulling away from your neck to see your face.

“You will need it if you’re going to be screaming for me.”

He can actually see you process this thought, mentally going through every scenario where you don’t know his name. Finally settling on him unfortunately being correct. You don’t want to be called Sparkles during sex and you need a better name than Sexy Neighbor. You lock eyes, suddenly very aware of what's going on. You let fears and anxieties walk out the door and you nod.

“It’s Y/N” you practically whisper. You let your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, leaning forward to kiss his nose. He smiles at the soft action, tipping his nose up to capture your lips again. This time, slow and methodical, but still as desperate. He only pulls away enough to say his name against your lips.

“Jungkook, baby. It’s Jungkook. Now let’s get out of your hallway. I have a girl in front of me who had a very specific request last week. I need to fulfill it.” He lowers himself just enough that he can hook his hands behind your thighs and lift you up and return his lips to yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, subtly trying to take the stupid towel off with your feet, but failing miserably.

You’re not sure how you ended up on your bed. You didn’t tell him where to go. You mindlessly confirm your assumptions were correct and you had the same floor plan so he just knew where to go.

He lies you down on your back, legs still hooked around him and he awkwardly crawls over you, mouths staying connected until he rolls his hips into yours. That stupid towel still attached and rubbing against your covered core. You whimper at the friction, but it’s not enough.

You let your legs go from around his form and reach down, finally tugging the towel away and tossing it across the room like it was poison. “Finally” you accidentally huff out loud, causing him to burst into breathy laughs on your lips. You ignore him, reaching down for his length which, though you haven’t seen it yet, feels overwhelming. He’s hard and you can feel the precum on his tip as you slide your thumb over it. You bring your hand down his length, twisting your wrist as you bring it back up, thumbing his tip again. His lips part as he lets out a groan.

“Fuck, baby. Be careful, I’m embarrassed to say I might not last if you keep touching me.”

You whine. “Want it. Want your cock.” You sound so needy and desperate, the complete opposite of how you usually are in bed. Usually in control, usually a brat that needs to be punished. You’ve never been truly submissive like you feel right now. You can’t bring yourself to care.

“And you’ll have it. But first, let me taste you and get you ready.” He moves to sit up and push you further up the bed when you mutter out a “No.” He stops everything and looks at you. Your eyes are trained on his member. “No? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” You just shake your head again.

“Wanna taste at the same time.” You mumble, pulling yourself up, pushing the still confused man to be the one that lays back. You peel your underwear off, leaving the shirt on, and crawl over him, hovering your center just above his chest while facing away from him. You lean forward, grabbing his erection and giving a long lick from the base to the tip, wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking. You can hear his guttural reaction and suddenly two hands are violently tugging your hips closer to his face. You stop sucking long enough to reposition your knees on opposite sides of his head. He brings your hips down when you feel settled and dives into your sopping wet center.

“Shit. That feels so fucking good.” You moan, leaning back down, slowly easing his cock down your throat. He bucks his hips up unintentionally and you gag slightly, but he doesn’t hear. Instead, you brace both hands on his meaty thighs and bob your head up and down, taking him all the way each time and gagging around him before coming back up. You rut your hips against his face as he continues fucking his tongue into you, sucking on your bundle of nerves in intervals. He brings two fingers into play, sliding them against your entrance a few times before easing them into you, letting you fuck yourself with them.

Feeling close to his own release, he glances up at your rim. He runs a thumb along it, adding the smallest pressure possible, yet still earning a pleased reaction from you. He takes that as a yes and brings his tongue to your hole, licking flat against it before dancing his tongue around the rim. You keen, your head falling against his cock that you’re subconsciously still stroking. “Don’t stop. I’m so close. Please, Jungkook. Keep going.”

You find a strand of energy in you, determined to make him come at the same time and wrap your mouth around his tip again, hands working the shaft while you suck mercilessly. You both let out a series of loud moans, groans, and cries before you feel your hips spasm against his mouth, coming hard. At the same time, his hips snap up, ramming his cock even farther into your mouth, shooting the bitter white liquid down your throat. You swallow proudly, resting your head on his pelvis to take a breath.

“What the hell was that…” was all Jungkook could mutter, still processing what just happened. After a few moments he pats your leg where your bruise was starting to fade. “Wait.” He raises his head, a little shocked. ”Did you swallow?” You smile and nod, rubbing your cheek into his skin, humming out a yes and kissing whatever skin was there. He can barely see what you’re doing, but the feeling alone is enough to make his member come back to life. You feel it twitch and move to sit up again and grab it. But he catches you in time, flipping you around and over so he is now facing you from above. “No no. Not again. You specifically said ‘fuck me’ last week. I intend on doing that.” You groan at the change in positions and mope. You look tired and he’s still thinking about your frustrated laugh from earlier.

“But first,” he grabs both of your wrists in one hand, sliding them up above your head while holding himself up with the other by your head. He leans down, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. “First, I need to know why you decided to blast music at midnight, and why you were about to crack open a bottle of whiskey by yourself. Are you okay?” his face softens, no longer full of lust. It’s still there, hiding behind his concern and obviously pressing up against your stomach. But he clearly has more important needs right now. Like making sure he’s not about to make a mistake.

You get lost in his eyes for a moment before nodding slowly, supressing the emotions building up behind your eyes. “Yeah. Just had a bad day. But I’m fine, I promise.” Your smile doesn’t fully reach your eyes and Jungkook doesn’t know if he believes you.

“No bad breakup or fight with a guy or girl I should know about? I don’t do rebounds and I don’t condone cheating.” He’s very serious. You just laugh, this time it’s real and he can tell immediately.

“God, no. No exes or currents. Haven’t had that in years. No no no. Just…I got fired from my job and want to have something good before having to deal with the impending doom of reality, okay? Just make me forget for a moment, please?” Those stupid emotions are on the brink, threatening to spill from your eyes. You shut them tight, fighting against the feelings you want to let go. He sighs, leaning down to kiss your eyelids, moving up to your forehead.

“Okay, baby. I can do that. Do you want it rough or gentle?” You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at the question.

“Either is fine. Rough would be better…” you mutter under your breath. He just nods, kissing your forehead again, trailing down to your ear.

“I’ll make you forget, baby. Just focus on me and how I make you feel, okay?” You nod, moaning softly when he licks the shell of your ear. “Where are your condoms, y/n?” You gesture with your head to the left nightstand and he lets go of your wrists to briefly move off you to grab one. He comes back, foil unwrapped and rolling it down his length. He gazes down at you and you can see a weird shift in his face. His tone suddenly becomes darker as he slowly pumps himself.

“You’re gonna be good for me, right babygirl?” You nod enthusiastically, mentally making fun of yourself for switching to full submissive for a guy you just learned the name of.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” you sweetly respond, lifting and spreading your legs open for him to crawl in between. He sets one leg on his shoulder, leaving the other to rest on the bed as he lines himself up to you, smirking as he rubs the tip against your clit for a moment, watching you squirm before fully entering you without hesitation.

“Oh fuck” is all you can let out as you lift your hips to meet with him. He lets out a low groan as he pulls out everything but the tip, pushing your hips back down, keeping them there, and slamming back down into you. You arch your back, one hand grabbing onto the bed sheets and the other reaching out for any part of him. He notices, smiling as he leans back down, giving you better access. You find his waist and dig your nails in as he continues with his relentless pace on your pussy. He grunts loudly, fully leaning down over you, both knees over his shoulders.

You grab his neck and pull him into a sloppy kiss, teeth crashing together as you try to breathe through the pounding. “You feel so good, Jungkook. So big. Stretching me out perfectly. Fuck me just like that please. Don’t ever stop.” You cry out mumbling for him to not stop over and over.

He finds his new favorite spot on your neck and bites down before sucking, ensuring you’d be marked, and moving on to another spot. You mewl at his little art project on your neck mixed with the feeling of him fucking into you over and over until you come without warning. His hips stutter at the noise and feeling of you clenching around him and he has to still himself inside you before he finishes. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Flip over. All fours. Now.”

You oblige, albeit slowly. Your legs are shaky and you don’t know if you can hold yourself up very well, but you try. The moment you think you can keep yourself up, a hard smack sound fills the room as his large hand meets your ass. Your arms give out and you almost face plant into the pillows before a tattooed arm slides around your waist pulling you up to your knees.

“No, you don’t. No resting, baby. On your knees, I’ll keep you up.” His hand slides up your chest, under your shirt, creeping out of the neckline to wrap around your throat, holding you against his chest, letting you rest your head back on his shoulder. You’re panting and whimpering against him. He kisses your temple, quietly asking if you were good to continue. You nod and whisper a yes as he slips himself back inside you and continues his pace like he never missed a beat.

“Baby, you’re so tight but you take me so well. You feel like fucking heaven.” He pants in your ear, the hand not around your throat sliding down between your legs to your pulsing center. You whine and struggle as he starts rubbing in big lazy circles. It’s after a particularly deep thrust he feels something under his palm. He does it again to confirm and grins.

“Give me your hand, baby.” You lift it up without thinking too much, unsure where he wanted it. He grabs your wrist and places your hand flat against your lower stomach just above where he’s ruining you. He does another deep thrust and you feel it. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “You feel that? Feel me all the way inside you?” You’re silent, in shock at the bulge you feel. “How about now, baby? Feel it now?” He gives another sharp thrust, lessening his clutch around your throat, forcing you to cry out.

“Yes I feel it!” You feel the knot inside you coil up and ignite. “Please. Jungkook. I can’t. I can’t take it anymore. He eases you back on to all fours and you grab a pillow, clutching it for dear life. To compensate for not being able to be on all fours, you put all your strength into raising your ass to meet with his hips perfectly. He groans at the view, slapping your ass again. He uses both hands to grab to give it a massage, separating your cheeks to get a better view. He sees a perfect opportunity to make you see stars and keep your mind off anything troubling you.

“You wanna come for me, baby?” His voice is low. You nod into the pillow. “Remember what I did with my tongue earlier?” His thumb softly grazes over your hole and you nod, letting out a whiny moan, pushing your ass back for more. “Do you trust me?” You nod again. “No, y/n. I need to hear you say it. Do you trust me?” He asks again.

You frown, lifting your face out of the pillow just enough to force out the words “Yes, I trust you. Please, let me come. Please.” And tuck your face back into the pillow.

“Thank you, baby. Relax for me. Just enjoy it.” He pulls out momentarily, chuckling as you whine at the feeling. He sinks his thumb past your folds, gathering up any arousal he could before inserting his cock back inside, eliciting a low moan out of both of you. He smears his thumb across your puckered hole a few times, adding more pressure each time. Once he feels you relax more, he presses his thumb past the tight ring of muscles at the same time as he thrusts his hips deeply into your cunt.

You suck in a breath and hold it, toes curling, and you bring the pillow even closer to your face, biting down on the satin pillowcase. He holds his position with his free hand on your hip, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Breathe, baby. It’ll feel better when you breathe.” He whispers, slowly pushing deeper until his knuckle slips past the muscles. You let out a guttural moan, pressing yourself back towards him, helping him get the rest of his thumb in. “Can I move again, y/n? You’re okay?” You nod into the pillow almost shouting a yes into it.

He resumes thrusting, starting slow, eventually building back up to his rapid pace curling his thumb with every thrust. Your moans are deep, cut off by trying to catch your breath every other moan. “Jungkook. I’m coming. Please. Let me. Say I can come.” If he wasn’t so close himself, he’d be chuckling at you begging, teasing you and edging you. But he needs his release just as much as you do.

“Come for me, baby. Let go. Come all over my cock.”

And that’s all you need to hear before you’re screaming his name and varied obscenities, clenching around him as you enter a state of euphoric bliss. You see stars and in the background you hear him groan deeply, coming inside of the condom deep inside you. He eases his thumb out of you while you’re out of it and just takes in the view below him, face still in your pillow, back shivering and rising and falling in time with your rapid breathing. How the hell did he just have the best orgasm of his life with a girl he literally met twice even though you’ve been neighbors for who knows how long? His hand on your hip tightens a little as he moves to pull out of you. A small whimper coming from you in the pillow.

Once he’s fully pulled out of you, you fall on your side, freeing the pillow from your face, ignoring the drip of saliva coming with it and watch him begin to remove the condom. You’re exhausted. You don’t want to keep going. Yet your body moves of its own accord and you hold yourself up enough to reach out to stop him from doing it. “Let me” you choke out. He removes his hands, watching you carefully as you slowly remove the condom, hissing slightly at your touch.

You hand him the condom to tie up and toss aside and gently hold up his length covered in his release and, locking eyes with him, lick up his length. “What the fu-uck?” He groans out, tossing his head back. You clean up every inch of him, ending on his tip and he has to softly push you away before he gets hard again. “No. Baby, stop. No more. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I am spent.” He whispers into a laugh.

You grin up at him, launching yourself backwards, spreading out on the bed. Your shirt riding up your stomach. He’s not sure what to do next. Should he leave? Ask to use your restroom first? But why do that when he lives next door. You can see his confusion, you pat the space next to you, gently moving yourself over, wincing all the while, so he has room. He smiles, laying down on his side next to you. It’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to play with the bottom of your shirt.

“Is there a reason you kept this on?” He questions, mindlessly running his fingernails across the hemline.

“It’s too big. Makes me feel small. And you haven’t earned the right to see this divine pair of tits.” You smile at his gaping reaction.

“After all that?! And I still don’t have the privilege?” He drops the fabric and waves his hand around the both of you. “Literally ruined you and I don’t get to see the goods.” He whines dramatically. You giggle, sleep fast approaching.

“Next time.” You mumble.

“Oh there’s a next time?” His eyebrows raise and he smiles.

“You think after all that,” you mimic his gestures, “I wouldn’t want a next time?” You both burst into a fit of giggles. He stops first, reaching out to remove a strand of hair from your face.

“Well I surely look forward to next time then.” He whispers softly, moving a bit closer at the same time.

“Who knows? Next time could be in the morning.” You say it so confidently. You had expected him to fuck you and bolt. But him staying has to mean at least a little something, right? Except his happy expression falls into that of worry and uneasiness.

“I actually have to go out of town tomorrow.”

“Oh…” you frown, trying not to look too devastated. He cups his hand around your face, gently smiling.

“I’ll be back in like three days. I’ll let you know. Then we can have as many ‘next times’ as you want, okay?” He grins as your expression perks back up, leaning across to give you a few soft and sensual kisses. “I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep. But I have to pack, so don’t think I just got up and left in the morning, okay?” You nod your head, shuffling closer to tuck your face into his chest and drift off to sleep immediately.

When you wake the next morning, he’s gone. As he said he would be. And thus began three days of complete silence.

On the day of his alleged return, you stayed home all day pampering yourself. You put on one of your favorite lingerie sets that really enhanced your already marvelous chest and curves and put the same big shirt back on over you.

You were ready by midday but you had one problem. You had no idea when he was coming back. You two didn’t swap phone numbers or socials. He didn’t tell you any details. So you spent the rest of the day on the couch moping about being fooled. Which didn’t make sense in the first place. You two weren’t anything. You had a crazy intense one night stand and that’s it. There was no date offered. No deal made. Nothing. So why were you getting dressed up for a one night stand? You tried to reason with yourself until you fell asleep on your bed around 8PM, figuring he wasn’t going to come back, and if he did, he forgot about you either on purpose or accident.

You’re jolted awake by loud music and the beautiful voice of your stupid sexy neighbor at 11PM.

“What you doing? Where you at? Oh, you got plans? Don't say that. I'm sipping wine in a robe. I look too good to be alone. My house clean, my pool warm. Just shaved. We should be dancing, romancing in the east wing and the west wing of this mansion, what's happening?”

He sounds like he’s directly on the other side of the wall and you both hate him for doing this and love that this is how he’s waking you. He continues on as you check yourself in the mirror, convincing yourself you still look good and not to get too excited and eager.

“I ain't playing no games. Every word that I say is coming straight from the heart. So if you tryna lay in these arms, I'ma leave the door open.”

He belts out the last line and you can’t help but laugh. After a final once over, you head out of your room. He’s still singing as you put your slippers on and head out the door.

“And I'm hoping, hoping that you feel the way I feel. And you want me like I want you tonight, baby.”

You turn to his door but it’s already cracked open. You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness and open the door to a reverse layout of your apartment. You take your slippers off and follow the sound of his beautiful voice to a room with the door closed. You knock and he answers, finishing the song as your eyes meet his.

“Girl, I'm here just waiting for you. Come on over, I'll adore you.”

The song ends and your smile turns to one of annoyance.

“You didn’t tell me when you were coming back. I waited all day wrapped up like a gift for you and honestly the least you could’ve done is write down a flight numbe - “ he shuts you up with a greedy kiss and you melt instantly as he pulls you closer.

“What’s the gift? Do I get to see this divine chest I’ve heard rumors about?” He grins into the kiss, and you hold the laugh in. You step away from him and remove your shirt, showing off the extravagant set underneath. He lets out a strained groan. “You just don’t know how to warn a guy, do you? Get on the damn bed, Sparkles.” He snaps, pulling you into the room and shutting the door. The start of another intense night.

AN: yay open endings. Decide how it goes. Fwb? Lovey dovey? Have fun. Thank you for reading, I love you! 💜💜💜💜💜

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caelesjjk · 2 years

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sanguine - jjk- part one

⟶title: sanguine

⟶au: vampire au, arranged marriage au, royalty au

⟶ pairing: vampire king!jungkook x human queen fem reader

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, kinda slow burn?, smut, angst

⟶wc: 10.5k

⟶warnings: some swearing, mentions of blood, lots of sexual tension, one kiss, a bit angsty, reader is a badass. No smut for this part my fellow horny bitches, but there is certainly smut in the future.

⟶ summary: Marry the vampire king. Save the kingdom.

Your father is the king of a rare human kingdom that has been plagued by famine and sickness. And in a last ditch effort to save the kingdom, he has arranged for you to marry the vampire king to the north. Your hand in marriage in exchange for his help in saving your kingdom.

Everything you swore could never happen between the two of you begins to unfold as you spend more time in the vampire kingdom with its king and his subjects. Can you learn to love this place and it’s beloved ruler?

⟶ authors note: hi friends. this has been a whirlwind of a fic and this is only part one lol. it’s my baby in a way because I’ve had this idea for so long. I started writing it long before my king decided to actually grace us all with his vampire concept for his folio. that only encouraged me more to get this done.

A few shoutouts need to be made because without these people I don’t think I’d ever finished this. @jeonjcngkook jords, not only did you beta the shit out of this, but you’ve been there for me while I’ve written it and listened to me whine and cry for weeks. u have no idea how much it means. @haliiimede for reading through and convincing me that it wasn’t trash and giving me such lovely feedback. And also a huge thanks to @tea4sykes for reading through and encouraging me the whole way, ur the best Kay. @missgeniality siya, you absolute angel, I literally owe you big time for this amazing banner. and thank you for making me a new one when jungkook dropped all the vampire content lol. It’s so stunning.

(Vows found at vampireweddings.blogspot.com)

Alright enough blabbing, please enjoy! Send me all the feedback!

For the good of the kingdom.

For the good of mankind.

That was what your family kept telling you…no, they insisted that this was the only way.

Your father’s kingdom had become wrought with sickness, famine, and the people were starving. All of the resources available had been drained, there was nothing left.

And so, in a desperate plea for help, your father went to the vampire kingdom in the north, with whom your kingdom shared a border. And while the vampire king was willing to help, he wanted to make sure that this alliance was official and binding. He asked that you marry him to join your kingdoms, and that way there would be no reason for any type of betrayal.

You hated the idea. You fought it with everything that you had. The vampires disgusted you with their lust for blood and their strange habits. It was the worst thing you thought could happen.

But your father was right, it was the only choice your kingdom had left, and you had a duty to the people.

With that realization, is how you find yourself under this gorgeous oak tree in the middle of the night. The stars and moon and a few scattered candles are the only light to be found in this open field.

“Welcome one and all, witnesses to both His Highness the King and ______, princess of the human kingdom to our South, as they pledge their dedication to walk the night together. From the night we come, to the night we go, Cursed or blessed to walk the moonlight alone.”

The wedding dress that is chosen for you to wear is dark crimson, a bloody reminder of just who exactly is standing before you. With full lace skirts that drag against the ground, it’s light, airy even. It feels incredibly soft against your skin as your finger tips brush against the fabric but none of that matters as you still feel like you’re suffocating. It’s the absolute opposite of the dress you imagined yourself wearing on your wedding day but it is tradition here in the vampire kingdom for the bride to wear red.

“Sometimes another soul walks our path, Then two become one, in love everlasting. Come forward, Children of the Blood, And welcome this couple to your brood, Within each other, these two are found, Bear witness as their souls are bound.”

The hardest part of this is that it needs to be believable, and at the same time, the subjects from both kingdoms wanted you and the king to hate each other. So the wedding had to be done with official vows, ones that made it sound like the two of you were in love. It makes your stomach churn as the priest continues to speak.

“Please bring your left wrists forward towards me.” The priest said with a soft smile. Though it was gentle, his fangs are still visible, sending a shiver down your spine.

He takes out a red sash from his pocket and gently ties it around both of your wrists, Jungkook’s cold skin brushes against yours and makes you jump slightly. Though it’s as cold as stone, it’s also as soft as cashmere.

Finally, you allow yourself to look up at the man standing next to you.

You hate that he is so beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful being you have ever seen. Soft, thick, black hair slightly smoothed back away from his forehead, eyes almost as black as his tresses and lips that were sharp and hued pink.

When he catches you staring for a bit too long, he merely smirks and turns his attention to you.

“Sorry.” The king mouths to you, no sound coming from his mouth. You look back towards the priest quickly. He holds out a golden goblet beneath your bound wrists.

“Stand now as ye will stand forever, Like this crimson cloth your hearts are tethered, This goblet's contents are your symbols of devotion, So take the rings from the Goblet.”

Your hand shakes violently as you reach into the cup to retrieve the silver band that is to be placed on Jungkook’s right finger. You swallow thickly as you toy with the silver band in between your fingers, your pulse quickening because you know that not only can Jungkook hear the beating sounds of your heart, but all the other vampires present as well. Jungkook does the same with your wedding ring but with more confidence in his motions.

The ring he holds for you is a silver band as well, but it also contains a dark shaded ruby, cut into the shape of a blood drop or possibly a tear in the case of this marriage. But even then, it was stunning.

“______, please repeat these vows after me:

I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”

These vows had been written hundreds of years ago, meant for two vampires binding themselves together…not a vampire king and someone like you who is so very human. But you say them anyway, your heart still hammering in your chest as you turn your body towards the king and take his hand into yours, noticing just how soft his hands are before you slip the ring onto his awaiting finger.

“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back…” You pause when your voice shakes for a moment, “and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”

You place the ring onto his finger and release the breath you have been holding the entire time. Jungkook smiles and takes your hand into his.

“King Jungkook, please repeat the vows to your bride.”

Jungkook waits a moment for you to look up at him, his eyes hold yours and his thumb rubs gently over the back of your hand. You wish you could pull it away…even more, you wish you wanted to pull it away.

“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.” His voice is alluring and even, as if he isn’t nervous about this at all. He slides the ring down your finger and lets it sit perfectly against your warm skin.

The priest hands the goblet to one of his assistants and turns back to the two of you after you’ve both finished.

“Above you are the stars, below you are the stones. As time passes, remember, like the star should your love burn brightly, like the stone should your love be firm. Be close, yet not so close that you restrict one another. Possess one another, yet grant each other the freedom to grow. Be understanding and compassionate, and have patience with each other, for storms may come, but they will quickly pass. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Fear not, lest the ways or words of the unenlightened give you unease.” He clasps his hands over your joined ones before he finishes the last part of the ceremony.

“As both your arms and the cloth form the symbol of eternity, may your love endure through this life and all others. As the Gods and the old ones are witness, with those of us present now, I proclaim them Husband and Wife, and thus are they bonded in Blood. The Two are now one. I present to you the Blood King Jungkook and Queen ______ forever bound, eternally free! You are husband and wife for all eternity. You may now kiss each other to seal your eternal bond of love.” The priest opens his arms and presents the two of you to the guests.

A kiss…was it necessary? Would they believe you if you didn’t kiss him? Would he be able to resist biting you? Would he taste of blood on his lips? So many thoughts plagued your mind in the moments before he cupped your cheek and tilts your face towards his.

“It’s just a kiss.” Jungkook whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at his gentle touch.

“One kiss.” You step forward and wrap the arm holding your bouquet behind his back as he leans down to mold his lips against yours.

You weren’t expecting the softness of them, assuming that their appearance would be deceiving. His cool hand on your cheek brings you just the slightest bit closer as your lips brush over his once…twice…three times before your brain catches up with you and you remember who you are kissing.

There are whispers amongst the wedding guests who watch the scene unfold in front of them. Some with disgust. Some with curiosity. However even with the divided opinions in the crowd, they all share the same opinionated attitude. You try to ignore them as best you can.

Your lips separate from his a little too quickly and your hand immediately flies up to cover your mouth and the gasp that escapes you. Jungkook smiles, a flash of fangs when his lips pull back, and gently touches the veil hanging from your head and cascading over your shoulders. He takes your free hand in his and turns you both towards the guests, who clap but don’t seem to be pleased.

“And now the crowns.” The priest turns back to his assistants and picks up the crown that belongs to Jungkook first. The king bends slightly at the waist and the crown is placed gently atop his head.

The crown looks too perfect on him, black and silver metal twisted into spikes with small red gems at the base. It’s as if he has always worn one, perfectly designed with Jungkook in mind. And maybe he has, you don’t know how long he’s been the king after all.

You hadn’t actually seen your crown until this moment. The priest picks it up from a black silk pillow and presents it to you to observe. Like Jungkooks, it too is also made from black and silver metal twisted into even more dramatic spikes. Large, jagged diamonds and rubies cover it in its entirety. It looks ridiculously heavy, and when the priest places it on your head, you find your assumption to be correct. Heavy and cold.

From somewhere nearby, horns and trumpets start to play, signaling the end of the ceremony. Jungkook takes your hand again, and the two of you make your way back down the makeshift aisle your father had nervously walked you down less than an hour ago, and already things feel so different.

You’re quickly whisked away by carriage. The space inside doesn’t feel big enough, you can’t get far enough away from him, but he simply stays on his side of the bench seat and doesn’t move towards you on the ride back to the castle.

Once you’ve arrived, you’re met at the doors by Jungkook's advisor, Namjoon, who you had met a few times beforehand during meetings with Jungkook and your father. He has a kind face, gentle like he could do no harm, but that did not change the fact that he is a still a vampire. Standing next to him is the Captain of the vampire kingdom's army, Yoongi. You had also met him previously, but he doesn’t speak much unless it’s to Jungkook regarding the royal army.

“Did everything go accordingly?” Namjoon asks as the two of you ascend the stairs to the castle.

“It was my wedding, Namjoon, not a transaction.” Jungkook moved to the side and motioned with his hand for you to walk ahead of him through the doors.

“Is that not exactly what this is?” You hear Namjoon say just before you’re inside, Jungkook sighing as he follows.

“He’s right.” You grumble.

“Beg your pardon?” Jungkook says from beside you, his hands clasped behind his back as the two of you walk towards the great hall where the celebration and dinner is being held.

“It wasn’t a real wedding. It’s part of a bargain.” You stop to face him and he does the same, looking at you bewildered.

“Perhaps the circumstances aren’t ideal, but the wedding was real, my queen.” He bows to you, and you’re sure the scowl on your face is as deep as they come.

“Let’s get this night over with.” You grab the skirt of your dress in your fists and begin stomping off towards the great hall. You can hear Jungkook laugh quietly, but you choose to ignore him.

You’re forced to mingle, your hand wrapped through Jungkook's arm as the two of you make rounds through the room. You absolutely despise the whole experience. But soon enough, you’re thankfully seated at the head table and wine is poured into your cup.

You notice that yours and your parents' place settings are the only ones with plates. But of course they would be, no one else in this damned kingdom eats food.

Downing the first glass of wine in one gulp, you signal for an attendant to bring you another one. You can feel Jungkook's eyes on you as you down one glass after another, unable to bring yourself to care about what he could possibly be thinking.

“Do you want any?” You finally ask him after your third glass. A very unladylike hiccup following.

“I think you know the answer to that question already, my queen.” He smiles softly but his jaw is tight with annoyance.

“I’m not your queen.” You say a little too loudly. Some of the guests begin turning their attention to you.

“You have every right to be angry, _____.” Jungkook tries to say under his breath, but you scoff loudly, reaching for the bottle of wine and rudely snatching it from the attendant.

“Angry? That does not even begin to cover it. I am outraged.” You take a swig from the bottle and laugh bitterly. “I am disgusted…and I am not your queen. You and your people are just…fucking vile.” You look up from the bottle of wine to see a look of horror on your father’s face from where he sits at the next table. You know you’ve said too much. You’ve been cruel. “Jungkook…” You start to correct yourself but he cuts you off by standing up from his chair with so much force that it flies back against the wall, causing the guests to look up and stare.

“One thing you are not going to do is insult my people. You can say all the terrible things you want about me, but not them. Not when they’ve given up so much so that your people can live.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you to your feet. “Let’s go.”

“Let go of me.” You try to pull your wrist away, but it’s no use against his inhuman strength. “Release me this instant!” Jungkook continues to pull you towards the door, your legs wobbly from wine and the heels on your feet.

“The evening is over. You need to sleep it off.” He pushes open the door and drags you into the dimly lit hallway.

“I am not sleeping with you!” Even though it’s futile, you scratch and pull at the sleeve of his embroidered jacket.

“As if I’d expect that of you.” Jungkook scoffs and swings you around to face him. He maneuvers your body until you’re pressed against the wall with your arms above your head, one of his hands pinning your wrists there.

“Let go!” You try to kick at him but he dodges every time.

“Whether you like it or not, my queen, this is your home now and these are your people. I have and will continue to do what’s best for everyone involved, including you.” His eyes are almost pitch black, a deep red threatening to spill into the iris’ as he speaks through his clenched teeth.

You must stop forgetting that Jungkook is a monster.

“You know nothing of what’s best for me.” You begin moving to spit in his face, but he knows what you are about to do before you have even finished the thought. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, leaving you to glare at him without being able to talk.

“Listen carefully, my queen.” The grip on your wrists tightens slightly. “You are not the only one making sacrifices around here. So when you decide you want to act like royalty and not some drunken heathen, by all means come to me.” You jerk around in his hold, you just want him to get the hell away from you. He seems to understand your request as he slowly takes his hand away from your mouth.

“I fear you’ll be waiting a very long time, your highness. Possibly until my death, but I’m sure you’ll find that day ever so joyous.” You use your body weight to push at him once more and he finally releases you, but stays in close vicinity.

“Don’t assume you know anything about what I find joyous.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder towards the guards who are standing near the doorway to the hall. “Escort her majesty to her chambers, she’s not to leave them for the night.” Jungkook straightens his shirt and jacket, and begins making his way back towards the dinner hall.

“You can’t just lock me away! Do you hear me?” One of the guards motions for you to walk towards the opposite hallway.

“No more talking tonight. Go to sleep.” Jungkook says over his shoulder before he disappears into the dinner hall. You scoff loudly, taking off walking as fast as your drunken legs will allow you to go.

“Stupid, ignorant, pig headed blood sucker.” You grumble under your breath as you continue down the hallway. The dim lighting from the candles doesn’t allow you to see much, but you can see there is art on the walls that you would rather enjoy if you were not so pissed off. And if they did not belong to the most ridiculous man you had ever met.

The guards lead you to a winding staircase where you quickly find out that in your drunken state you are unable to climb them unassisted. At the top of the first set of stairs they split, one set going left and the other going right. The guards gesture for you to head to the left.

“And where does the right go?” You ask with a hiccup.

“To the king's chambers.” One of them replies. Jungkook had not been lying, he really had prepared your very own chambers. You reach the doors to your bedroom soon after.

One of the guards opens the door for you to enter the room. You cross your arms over your chest and practically stomp inside, turning around to face them.

“Your king is sadly mistaken if he thinks he can lock me up for the rest of my life. I’d rather die.” You aren’t sure what you expect them to say, but they merely bow before shutting the door.

As soon as it clicks shut, you grab the skirt of your dress into your hands and begin ripping the fabric apart, tossing the pieces around the room.

“Stupid, ridiculous, hideous dress.” You screech, grabbing the sleeves at the shoulders and ripping them apart too. You bend down to grab the heels off your feet, stumbling around before yanking them off and chucking them as far away from you as possible.

Your chest heaves with short breaths as you feel yourself burning with rage. Reaching up into your hair, you hastily pull out as many of the pins holding it into place as you can. You start to walk towards the wardrobe when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the far wall. You look like a forest witch. And not the good kind.

Changing your mind about finding other clothes, you begin to notice that there isn’t much in your room. A few vases with fresh flowers and a bed with soft, silky white sheets. There’s a white fur rug at the foot of it and a very large trunk atop that. There’s also a small fireplace in the corner with a few small logs in a basket nearby. The room was otherwise quite empty.

Looking through another set of double doors, you find the washroom. There’s a claw foot tub in one corner with several shelves of soaps and oils on the wall behind it.

As badly as you want to bathe, you need to find ways to protect yourself. Weapons. You need to learn the layout of the castle so that you know where all the exits are at all times. And you also need to find some food. Food in a castle full of creatures who don’t eat it. You sigh loudly, almost tripping over some pieces of your skirt on the marble floor.

Looking down at what's left of your wedding dress on your body is almost laughable. It’s mostly just the bodice and a few pieces covering your lower region in a tattered disarray. You cannot bring yourself to care, this dress was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

You walk out onto the balcony and see a ledge that looks just big enough for you to make your way over to the next room. Wasting no time, you swing your leg over the side, feeling a bit dizzy and suddenly remembering that you’re still quite drunk. But there is no time to sober up now, you have missions to complete.

Still barefoot, you balance onto the ledge and carefully side step your way along the stone. It's only about ten feet from your balcony to the next one.

You get a little too ahead of yourself and almost slip just once, but manage to climb over the railing of the next balcony successfully. You slink over to the window and peer inside, seeing what appears to be an empty guest room. Trying the handle for the doors, you’re overly pleased to find that they are unlocked.

Once inside, you press yourself against the wall and move towards the bedroom door. You pray that once you open it, there will be no vampire guards waiting for you. You have yet to secure a weapon and this might be your only chance to do so when so many of the castle's occupants are still at your wedding reception.

Slowly, you open the door, poking your head outside to see the guards are still occupied with watching over your bedroom door. You silently thank the gods, tip toeing into the hall, you're able to make a mad dash as soon as you’ve rounded the corner and gotten out of the guards sight.

You run until you find the winding staircase that you had come upstairs on. Its familiar shape lets you know that you’re going the right way. Eyes darting from side to side, you descend the stairs, making sure there are no vampires lurking about in the halls.

With absolutely no idea where you are going, you take the hallway to the left, and to your surprise, you smell food. The scent gets stronger and more distinct the further you travel down the hallway. You notice a swinging door, the sounds of clanging pans and a soft voice coming from inside. You brave a peek inside the small round window on the door, the person inside has their back to you for a moment, but when they turn around to face you, you almost cry.

Hoseok.

You shove open the swinging door with all your might, jumping onto a very unsuspecting Hoseok, who screams bloody murder at the sight of you. He almost falls backwards, but catches himself on the corner of the counter.

“Get off of me, witch!” Hoseok yells, reaching for a frying pan in hopes to knock out the creature currently hugging his torso.

“Oh, Hoseok, I’m so happy to see you.” You cry into his chef's coat.

“______? Is that really you?” He grabs your shoulders and moves you back to get a look at you. “My god, it really is you. What the hell happened to you?” He picks up a piece of your dress from the floor that must've fallen off in your rush to get to him.

“How are you here? Why?” You sniffle, tears streaming down your face.

“The king asked me to come stay here and be your chef…since you know, they don’t eat food and you do.” Hoseok pats the top of your head affectionately.

Hoseok is your closest friend. You had grown up together back in your father’s kingdom. His mother had been a long time servant of your parents, the most loyal that you could ask for. Hoseok had inherited that particular trait from her. He began cooking as you got older and soon became one of the best chefs in your kingdom. You were very surprised when you heard your father was so willing to let him go.

“My father let you come? Who will make him those banana pancakes he loves so much?” You laugh, wiping your face so you can get a better look at him, making sure that he’s really here in front of you.

“No, not your father, I meant King Jungkook. He apparently gave your father a rather large sum to make sure that I came here to cook for you.” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders and smiles widely.

“Why would he do that?” You hiss.

“I don’t know, _____. Maybe he just wanted you to be comfortable here.” Hoseok gives you another small hug, then moves around you to continue what he was working on before.

“I find that hard to believe.” You scoff.

“Do you want to explain why the hell you look like a swamp witch?” Hoseok is packaging some food and placing it into the cold room that was filled with ice.

“I…may have gotten drunk at the reception…and got sent to my rooms like a child. And I may have thrown a fit of rage about it.” You plop yourself down on a wooden stool in the corner of the kitchen. You learned a long time ago not to get in his way when he was working.

“You? Throw a fit? Could not imagine such a thing.” He laughs before closing the door to the cold room. “So you haven’t eaten?”

“No. I’m starving Hoseok, please make me food.” You whine to your friend and he rolls his eyes in response.

“You’re lucky I don’t beat you with this plate of food. I made this damn dinner for the reception and they brought your plate back to me untouched? You’re on thin ice my friend.” Hoseok pulls a plate of food from the oven that he had been keeping warm there and sits it in front of you.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You don’t bother waiting for him to hand you any utensils as you grab the food with your hands, dismissing the fact that it’s too hot to be eating. You’re too hungry to care.

“One day in the vampire kingdom and you’ve already lost your mind.” Hoseok places a fork beside your plate, but still, you ignore it.

“Do you have knives in here?” Your face lights up, looking around the kitchen.

“I’m a little hesitant to give you any sharp objects right now _____.” Hoseok looks at you with concern reaching his face.

“It’s for protection, Hobi. We’re the only two humans for miles, aren’t you a bit concerned about that?” Your mouth is half full of food as you speak and Hoseok looks disgusted as you stand up and start rifling through his kitchen.

“Of course it’s a little…unsettling. But the king isn’t going to let anything happen to us. Especially you.” Hobi walks behind you, picking things up as you make a mess. You scoff at the last part.

“He cares about me as much as I care about him, which is not at all.” You finally find the drawer that holds the kitchen knives. “Finally! Why didn’t you tell me where they were?”

“Because I think you’re slightly insane.” He puts his hands up in front of him in surrender when you turn around to face him, knife in hand.

“I’m not insane. I’m being…prepared.” You close the drawer and move back towards the kitchen door, peaking out into the hallway through the circular window. You don’t see any movement.

You aren’t sure where to keep this knife if you finally managed to get your hands on, looking around the kitchen for something to use.

“Here, just use this.” Hoseok sighs, handing you a long leather string. “Wrap it around your thigh, that's what all the female warriors do.”

Looking at Hobi inquisitively, wondering how he could possibly know that bot of information, you take the string from his hand and wrap it around your thigh until you can tie it. You’re able to secure the knife between the leather well enough for now.

“Do you even know how to kill a vampire, ____? Is a knife even going to work?” Hoseok crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at you.

“Father told me once that you have to remove their heads.” You don’t look at him, just continue looking into the hallway.

“And a kitchen knife is going to remove a vampire's head!? I’m going to pretend you didn’t get that from me if anyone asks.” Hoseok motions towards your knife with his head before he goes back to cleaning up the mess you had left in your wake.

“I’m going to go look around some more. I’ll come find you later.” You look at him now, as he picks things up off the floor.

“Please don’t.” He teases, crossing the small kitchen to stand in front of you. “Be careful roaming around this castle.”

“I’ll be fine, Hobi.” You wrap an arm around him and he does the same to you, giving each other a much needed hug. He kisses the top of your head before he lets you go.

“Go on then, Blood Queen. I’ll bring you your breakfast in the morning.” He shoos you away.

“Do not call me that.” You glare at your friend. “Eggs and lots of coffee?”

“As you wish.” He rolls his eyes again and you can’t help but smile.

Pushing open the swinging door, you carefully step out into the hallway, keeping your back pressed to the wall as you follow it through the castle.

There isn’t much to see. Some extra bedrooms, one room that looked like a study and one door that had led to a small patio. You mentally mapped that door in your head and hoped you could remember it well enough to write down when you got back to your rooms.

As you approached the end of the hallway you began to hear voices. You knew you should turn around but your curiosity was too much to battle with. So instead, you made your way to the double doors that had been left slightly ajar.

Inside, the room was full of vampires seated at a very long table. Jungkook is sitting at the head of it, his fingers adorned by silver rings, stroking his chin with worry. You aren’t sure how you know that he’s worried, but you just know. Namjoon paces the floor behind him, babbling to no one in particular it seemed. Yoongi, who is sitting to his right, still appears to be his quiet and stoic self. Not much different to how you saw him for the first time.

There are several others present around the table that you do not recognize. But the real question is why are they here instead of attending the wedding reception?

“Is this a threat we need to be prepared for sooner rather than later?” You finally hear Yoongi say, his voice deep and rumbly.

“We knew taking on the human kingdom was going to cause issues with Taehyung. Because not only did you agree to help them, you married the fucking princess.” Namjoon says, distaste thick in his voice.

“They required protection. This was how we gave them that.” Jungkook doesn’t bother looking up, he merely sits back in his chair and crosses his legs.

“At what cost? Why are we paying for their ignorance?” Namjoon continues to pace the floor behind Jungkook's chair.

It surprises you how Jungkook continues to defend your kingdom when he clearly did not have much reason to. It isn’t as if you had married him on happy terms. The only thing he is really getting out of this arrangement is land, and it isn’t like there is much of it to give in the first place. You’ve been so angry that you really had never taken the time to consider that.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Jungkook says, abruptly standing up from his chair.

You feel panic rise up as you notice that he’s heading towards the door that you’re still standing in front of. You look around the hall frantically, seeing a large statue in the corner to your left.

You dash towards it, trying to keep the sound of your bare feet padding across the marble floor as quiet as possible. You hear the door creak open all the way as you fling yourself behind the statue, flopping against the ground with a thud.

“Shit. Shit that hurts.” You whisper, trying to right yourself into a sitting position.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the mouth of a sailor?” Jungkook is suddenly standing above you, making you jump with fright, banging your head against the statue that had apparently done nothing to hide you from him.

“Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to just appear out of nowhere like a damn ghost?” You rub the back of your head and manage to get to your feet to stand in front of him. Jungkook scoffs, trying to hold back a laugh.

“What in the world have you done to your dress?” He asks, reaching towards your torn up skirt. Before he can touch them you slap his hand away, making your hand sting at the contact.

“I had a moment. Not that it’s any of your business.” You attempt to smooth out what’s left of the skirts at your waist.

“You look like a swamp witch.” Jungkook can’t help the smile that graces his face and you want to slap it away for being so beautiful.

“I do not!” You shove past him, stomping back down the hallway where you had come from.

“Would you please stop for a moment?” Jungkook calls after you.

“I will not.” You refuse to give him any further satisfaction. He does not seem to take the hint, his footsteps following after you.

You’ve had enough of him for one night. You reach into the band you had made and wrapped around your thigh to hold onto the kitchen knife you had gotten from the kitchen, spinning around and pointing the sharp end of the blade right at Jungkook’s throat, making him stop in his tracks in front of you.

“Where did you get a knife?” Jungkook dares to ask, an eyebrow raised in question.

“That is also none of your business.” You move the knife so close to his throat that the slightest movement could make you cut him.

“Were you keeping that knife strapped to your thigh?” Jungkook's voice lowers as he slowly raises his hands in surrender. You choose not to answer him, only stiffening your stance. “Incredibly violent…” Jungkook smiles and his fangs extend slightly, making you feel bewildered at his reaction.

“Why are you smiling?” You poke the tip of the knife against his skin.

“Because I like that you’re beautifully murderous.” Jungkook is suddenly out of your sight, making you whirl around to find him, only to be pressed roughly against the wall, the hand holding the knife anchored above your head.

“Get off of me!” You move to knee him in the groin but he’s too fast. Inhumanly fast.

“I want you to be a part of this, you know. I want you to help us help your people.” His grip tightens slightly the more you move around.

“Why?” You seethe.

“Because you’re the queen. My partner in this life. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” The look on his face is so sincere that it makes you halt your movements.

“Jungkook…this is not a real marriage. Why are you so convinced that it is?” With one last push, he releases you and takes a step back.

“I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make you see that it is.” Jungkook tells you with a quiet sigh. “But for the time being, please just come inside and listen to what we’re speaking about. You should be a part of it too.”

You feel the tiniest sliver of hatred melt away from your heart. It makes your chest feel lighter, like you can breathe a little easier. You don’t understand it. You don’t understand him. But you can’t deny that you want to know what’s going on in that meeting room.

“Fine. Let’s go.” You rip your eyes away from his face before it becomes too noticeable that you were looking at him at all.

“Do you perhaps want to change first?” Jungkook asks. “The dress has become rather revealing.”

You glare at him before propping your foot up against the wall, exposing your bare leg to him. You slide the kitchen knife back into the homemade holster on your thigh, adjusting it slightly and letting your foot slip back to the ground as you keep direct eye contact with the vampire king.

“No. I think I’ll attend the meeting just as I am.” You can’t help but smirk a little, pointing your nose to the ceiling before making your way into the meeting room. Jungkook laughs quietly in disbelief, but follows you inside.

All the eyes in the room are suddenly on you. One of the men sitting at the table visibly chokes on air as he watches you walk into the room and takes in your appearance.

“I suggest you get yourself together, Seokjin.” Jungkook walks ahead of you to pull out the chair to the left of his for you.

“Apologies, your highness.” The man named Seokjin splutters slightly, then straightens in his chair.

“Were you attacked, my lady?” Yoongi says, his voice low but still holding a bit of concern.

“No…I was…it's nothing. Don’t let my clothing distract you from the discussion.” You move around the table, choosing to ignore the chair Jungkook has pulled out for you, but instead decide to move to his chair at the head of the table and sit down there. “Shall we?” You ask, a smug look on your face.

“Incredible.” You hear Jungkook mumble under his breath, only meaning for you to hear it, but obviously all the other vampire ears in the room do as well, making everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats.

“Does the queen need to be present?” Namjoon remarks from the seat next to Yoongi.

“Yes, she does. And I won’t hear another thing about it.” Jungkook makes his point clear and moves to sit in the chair he had originally pulled out for you.

“Fine then. We need to start preparing for a war with Taehyung. And we also need to consider that in order to avoid it, we should give up the human kingdom. We don’t need it.” Namjoon is very monotone as he speaks about giving up your kingdom to an apparent enemy.

“Absolutely not.” You say without thought.

“No disrespect, your highness, but I was speaking to the king.” Namjoon dismisses you and you can feel anger start to bubble beneath your skin.

“You say that you mean no disrespect, but you’re sitting there suggesting that we turn over my kingdom, full of innocent people, to your enemy.” You lean forward in your seat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you look at the king's advisor.

“I’m not sure you understand the ramifications of going to war with Taehyung, your majesty. He is not to be underestimated.” Namjoon leans forward as well, meeting your gaze with a challenge in his eyes.

“Perhaps someone could explain to me who Taehyung is, and how he has become such a threat to the most powerful kingdom in this realm?” You don’t let your gaze fall from Namjoon’s, challenging him right back.

“If you two are finished with your vicious little disagreement you’ve got going, I would be honored to get the queen up to speed on the situation.” Seokjin says from a few chairs down. His voice makes you look away from Namjoon with a scowl on your face.

“Please. Tell me what you know.” You give Seokjin your attention, ignoring the mumbled curses Namjoon says under his breath.

“Taehyung is the king of the werewolf kingdom to our west, your highness. And I…well I know more than most about werewolves as I myself am one of them.” Seokjin looks up at you then, a golden glow flashing across his eyes when they meet yours.

“I’m confused. If you’re one of them, what are you doing here?” Your curiosity is peaked at this very unexpected bit of information.

“Well you see, my lady, I owe my life to your king. Many, many years ago he had mercy on me and I have pledged my loyalty to him until my dying day.” A smile plays at the corner of Seokjin’s mouth as he looks from you to Jungkook, who also shares the same smile of fondness on his face.

“He saved your life?” You ask, enthralled by this story. A vampire saving the life of a werewolf is unheard of, the two of them becoming friends is even more unheard of.

“He did. And now he has me at his side, even if he wishes I wasn’t at times.” He laughs a little and Jungkook’s smile grows wider.

“You’re too humble sometimes, hyung.” Jungkook says, sharing one last fond smile with Seokjin before he looks back at you. “Seokjin is vital to the way this kingdom is able to live and operate on a daily basis. Don’t let him talk lowly of himself.”

You wish their story wasn’t so endearing. That you didn’t feel a pang of something in your heart for the fondness they share for each other. But no matter how hard you try to bite back your smile, it betrays you, pulling your lips up slightly.

“I am happy to meet you, Seokjin.” You say, sharing one more look with him before the moment is interrupted.

“Could we get back to the point?” Namjoon says, obviously annoyed by the friendly conversation. Why was he so frumpy?

“Of course. My apologies.” Seokjin sits back in his chair with a small bow of his head.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sour puss?” You say to Namjoon, almost causing Yoongi to choke on a laugh.

“My lady, this is not a joke. If you’re insistent on being involved, I beg you to take this seriously.” If Namjoon could blush, you suppose he would be at this point.

“I’m listening.” You roll your eyes a bit and turn to Jungkook, who is watching you with a smirk on his face.

“Taehyung isn’t happy about this…union. He believes your land should be his and we are almost positive he isn’t going to sit back and let it go.” Yoongi takes the initiative to explain this time.

“And for now, as I’ve said before, we double the guard at the border but we don’t engage. I’m not starting a war without reason.” Jungkook speaks now, everybody forwarding their attention to him. “And perhaps we need to set up a meeting with Taehyung.”

“A meeting? What do you hope to come of that, your majesty?” Namjoon looks with disbelief on his face.

“I’m avoiding a war at all costs. I won’t bring unnecessary danger to either of the kingdoms.” Jungkook stands up. “And this discussion is over for now. I’m sure the queen would like to sleep.” You nod, quickly being able to tell that Jungkook is done talking for tonight.

You stand from the table, bowing to the others who stand at the same time as you do to bow deeper in your direction. Jungkook motions for you to walk ahead of him with his hand as you take one last look over your shoulder at the men sitting at the table. More monsters than men…but it was easy to forget such a thing.

“I’m glad you joined us.” Jungkook's voice startles you from your thinking.

“Yes well…I won’t let anything happen to my people. We can’t just throw them to the wolves.” You hope he detects the seriousness in your voice.

“I hope that you can see that isn’t my intention. It never was.” Jungkook walks next to you, his arms crossed behind his back.

“As long as that is clear.” You reach the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your separate bed chambers, stopping on the bottom step and turn to look at Jungkook.

“Loud and clear, my queen.” Jungkook steps up closer and you almost trip over the step trying to create space. “Where is the knife now?”

“It will be in your chest if you do not step away from me.” You growl through your teeth, making Jungkook grin wickedly, fangs appearing under his lip.

“Beautiful and violent. Where have you been all my life, darling?” Jungkook steps up onto the stairs, making you stumble up a few more to get distance.

“You’re some kind of masochist, aren’t you?” You put your hand down onto the handle of the knife. Jungkook throws his head back in laughter. The sound is…certainly not what you expected. He seems so human as he laughs and tries to compose himself.

“Would you like to find out?” He takes one more step up towards you and you’ve had enough.

You lift your bare foot from the wooden stair and press it into the middle of his chest as he stands two steps down from you. You watch Jungkook's eyes as they take in what is happening, roaming over the exposed skin of your legs and thigh.

“Stop flirting with me.” You push slightly against his chest with your foot. “It’s very annoying.”

“Your heart is beating so quick, I’m not sure that you mean that.” Jungkook says in a low tone. The sound of his deep voice tries to pry its way between your thighs, but you won’t let it. “I think you rather like it, actually.”

“You’re not amusing, your highness.” You try to remain unfazed.

“You can’t lie to me. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins…and your breath struggling to even out.” Jungkook tries to take a step up but you push him back down with your foot.

“You’re delusional. Whatever you are hearing is simply because I am fending off a vampire, not because I find that vampire to be maddeningly beautiful.” You wish you had said that differently…surely he will know you’re lying now.

“Why do you fight it?” He questions.

“Fight what?”

“The attraction between us.”

“Because there isn’t any. None. It is nonexistent.” You shove your foot into his chest once more but he doesn’t budge of course.

“Liar.” Jungkook says quietly, you can feel his breath on the skin of your leg. His cool fingers come up to ghost over the skin of your ankle, allowing goosebumps to find home on your skin as your body betrays you even more. “Shall we test your theory?” Fingers continue their featherlight touch up your calf.

“You’re…it’s not affecting me at all.” Your voice shakes slightly as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“More lies, my queen.” When his fingers get to the inside of your thigh, your brain suddenly remembers what’s happening. You kick him in the chest with more force and Jungkook stumbles slightly, giving you a chance to jog up a few more stairs before you speak to him again.

“No more of your unrequited flirting. And especially touching. None of that.” You yell down to him, wishing you could smack the grin on his face.

“As you wish.” He bows to you.

“Goodnight, your highness.” You pull the knife out of your holster and point it towards him as you back your way up the rest of the stairs, making Jungkook laugh out loud again. You don’t look back this time as you dash your way down the hall to your bed chambers where the two guards are still standing. “I’ll be going to bed now.” You huff past them and into the room as quickly as possible.

You press your back against the cool wood of the door, trying to catch the breath you had not realized were holding . He was absolutely infuriating. Ridiculous. Egotistical. And yet… soft and endearing at times. Like when he was speaking to or about Seokjin. It is something you never expected to see.

Looking down at your hand, you see the wedding ring he had given you just a few short hours ago. Shaped like a drop of blood and every bit the color of it. You had forgotten all about it and now you aren’t sure you wanted to take it off. You and this ring have been through a lot already.

Finally, you bring yourself to move towards one of the tall armoires on the other side of the room. Perhaps it’s time to finally change out of your tattered wedding dress.

You look through some drawers until you finally find some silky night shorts and matching camisole. It seems revealing for pajamas, but you also don’t have the energy to keep digging for something else.

With a sigh, you head into the bathroom and make a beeline for that glorious claw foot tub in the corner of the room. You look around and notice the gold crusted faucets at one end of the tub.

Running water. The vampire kingdom had running water for baths. This was not a luxury that you had back in your human kingdom.

“Something decent has come from this.” You mumble to yourself as you turn on the faucets and watch the crystal clear water start to fill the basin of the tub. You grab one of the first glass bottles of soap that you can reach, breathing in its scent and finding it to be lavender. A scent you missed about the gardens in your father’s kingdom. You pour a plentiful amount into the stream of water and watch the bubbles begin to form and you can’t help but smile.

Stripping out of what’s left of your wedding dress, you toss it away and carefully step into the tub. The water is so warm already, instantly loosening your tired muscles and cleanssng your dirty skin. It felt like heaven.

Once the tub has filled you turn off the faucets and sink down into it. You let your head dip beneath the bubbles, letting it washclean your hair and , making it easier to pull the rest of the pins out of it.

It’s quiet in this washroom. Almost too quiet. So you decide not to dawdledauddle for too long, getting yourself cleaned up and grabbing a robe from one of the hanging hooks on the wall.

Making your way back into your bed chambers, you dress into the pajamas you had found earlier and climb into the bed. You feel alone all at once. Too alone with your thoughts.

How would your life play out now that you’re here? Married. To the king of vampires. Jungkook. The blood king.

You want to know more. Need to know more about him and this place.

In order for you to do that, you have to change your sleeping schedule. You need to be awake at night when everyone else is awake.

It took some time for you to get used to but after a couple of weeks you are able to get up and join the vampires during their meetings regarding Taehyung.

You are also able to explore the castle and its grounds more thoroughly. Finding it full of vast libraries and art from different centuries…different worlds it seemed.

Most recently though, you had discovered the gardens. Gardens that had been somewhat neglected by visitors if you were being honest. They were clean and well kept, but they were mostly empty. Not many flowers and things to fill all the spaces in between the manicured bushes and small trees. You wondered if it was because no one could come out during the day to care for them. And the more you thought about it, the sillier it seemed.

You love walking around outside nonetheless. Sitting on the stone benches and watching the fountains. But your urge to do more is constantly bouncing around in your mind.

Tonight, you find yourself changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. You had decided you were going to start digging around in the gardens, whether it is something a queen should do or not, you didn’t care. It would busy your mind and give you something productive to do.

“Where are you off to?” Hoseok calls behind you as you make your way to the back doors.

“To the gardens. I think I’m going to start digging around. Maybe plant some new things.” You turn to see the bright smile on his face. One of the few bright things here.

“There are groundskeepers for that, you know?” Hoseok teases as he approaches you, taking in your very unqueenly outfit.

“I am aware, Hobi. But I’m bored and I need to find something to occupy my time.” You wave him off with a sigh.

“Do you know where the gardening equipment is?” Hoseok asks, hands moving to his hips as he looks at you expectantly.

“Well…no. But I assume that you do?”

“Perhaps. What’s in it for me?” He continues to tease.

“I’m the queen, you have to tell me if I ask.” Your arms cross over your chest.

“Oh now you want to be the queen? Only when it benefits you, I see.”

“Come on, Hoseok, pleeeeease?” You’re growing tired of his antics.

“Let me use your bathtub twice a week, and I’ll tell you where it is.” He puts his hand out for you to shake.

“As if I would deny you that bathtub.” You laugh a little and shake his hand. “Come on then, to the gardening tools.” You jump onto his back as he turns around to lead the way, making him carry you.

“I don’t remember carrying your spoiled ass around being in my new job description.” Hobi laughs, adjusting you on his back so he can walk with more balance.

“It’s in your best friend job description, check your paperwork.” You place your chin on his shoulder and squeeze your legs tighter around his middle.

“Ridiculous.” He laughs louder, making his way towards the back doors to show you where to find the gardening tools.

Hoseok takes you to a small building outside the castle, inside of which are plenty of gardening tools for you to get started with your plans. He doesn’t stick around though, making his way back to the castle to finally get some sleep. Hobi is having a harder time adjusting to the new sleep schedule than you had.

With your arms full of shovels, rakes, and other tools you may or may not need, you find an area near the fountains that you plan to start with. The dirt in this area seems a bit dry and sad looking, so you think if you dig into the soil, you’ll be able to bring the good dirt to the top.

You spend a few hours tilling the soil and sure enough, it already looks so much better than it did before. And even though autumn is in full swing and you’re working by the light from the moon, you’re still a bit sweaty.

“I think digging your way out of here may be a bigger task than you bargained for.” A now familiar voice says from behind you, making you jump at the sudden sound.

“Will I have to live out the rest of my days here wondering when the next time you’ll give me a heart attack will be?” You place your hand over your hammering heart while Jungkook smiles.

“Apologies, my queen.” Jungkook walks closest to where you’re kneeling on the ground, his hands behind his back. “What is it that you’re doing exactly?”

“I’m gardening. Is that not obvious?” You sit the small shovel down and wipe your hands off on your thighs.

“Yes. But why?” He asks curiously.

“Something to do? A hobby? I’m tired of wandering around this castle like a ghost.” You look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Is that something I’m allowed to do, your highness?”

“You’re rather snarky for a queen.” Jungkook smiles again, the sharp points of his fangs showing behind his lips.

“I have been called much worse.” You huff, standing up from the ground, wobbling slightly from being in that position a bit too long.

Jungkook is inhumanly fast, gently steadying you on your feet. One hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. His skin is so cold it sends a shiver through you, goosebumps covering your warm skin.

“So long as you’re here, no one will dare to call you anything less than you deserve.” His eyes are almost black as they meet yours. “Are you okay to stand?”

You shake away the trance you feel when you look at him, stepping back slightly and out of his hold.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You awkwardly stumble over the shovel on the ground, righting yourself before Jungkook has a chance to try and help you again. “Thank you.”

“Shall I help you with this?” He asks, bending to pick up one of the rakes.

“Oh…that’s not necessary, I can manage.”

“I’m well aware that you can manage. But would you like some help…and some company?”Jungkook almost looks shy as he asks. “I think it would be good for us to spend more time together.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you despises the thought of spending time with him. But a bigger part tells you that you long to know him more. To hear his infuriating tone when he teases you.

“Fine. But you start over there, and don’t crowd me.” You point towards an area a few feet from the one you had been working on. Jungkook laughs quietly.

“As you wish, my queen.” He bows at the waist and makes his way over.

“I’ve asked you several times to stop calling me that.” You sigh, pushing some hair away from your face before you continue tilling the soil.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Jungkook gets down to his knees, the brown slacks he is wearing meeting the dirt.

“I am not a vampire, Jungkook. Being the Blood Queen seems like I’m pretending to be something that I’m not.” It bothers you. All those vows that you took about protecting each other are just lies.

“You don’t need to be a vampire to be the queen here. No matter what you hear or what you think, you only need to try and understand.” Jungkook’s quick hands are making much faster work of things than yours ever could.

“Understand what?” You ask.

“Will you let me show you some time? It will be much easier to show than to try and explain it in so many words.”

You don’t understand what he means, but the look on his face tells you that he’s sincere in what he says. And even though you should probably say no, you’re too curious not to indulge him.

“Okay.” You simply state. Jungkook smiles softly and continues his digging.

Another week passes, and Jungkook joins you out in the gardens every night. He brings you new tools to use and lists from the florists in the kingdom so that you can pick out flowers to plant wherever you please. You choose as many as you can find that grow at night, because though they carry all the usual things that flourish in the day time, you know you won’t get to enjoy them as much as you will the ones who bloom at night.

You spend hours in the many libraries within the castle researching the plants and what they need to live well at night. Jungkook joins you there often, following you through the stacks of books and listening to you babble on and on about the flowers.

As much as you wish you didn't enjoy his company, as much as you don’t want to be fond of the sound of his voice, you are very much beginning to.

“_____?” Jungkook says quietly, closing the book that you’re holding in your hands. He doesn’t call you by your first name often, it’s a strange feeling that follows it.

“What is it?” You slide the book back onto the shelf in front of you, turning your attention to him.

“Would you please do me the honor of accompanying me into the kingdom tomorrow night?” His hands are behind his back as he speaks, stepping closer to where you’re standing.

“May I ask why?” You try to pretend his close proximity does not affect you. Jungkook is still a vampire after all.

“I told you I would help you to understand why being human does not mean you cannot be the queen here.” Jungkook brings a hand from behind his back and reaches out gently, brushing your fingertips with his.

“What are you going to show me, Jungkook?” You slowly pull your hand back from his touch, making him smirk at your stubbornness.

“Everything, darling.”

#jungkook #vampire jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts smut #btscarnivalnet #btscreatorscorner #bangtaninn #bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #52hertz #btswritersclub #btsdreamcourt #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock #btswritingcafe

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jimilter · 2 years

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the damsel & her knight | j.jk. | mini-series

Extraordinarily intelligent, really handsome but insincere as heck, Jeon Jungkook is your childhood enemy, the Chairman's son, the apple of your parents’ eye and now also a co-worker that you are forced to rescue out of sticky situations every other day. You fear it is only a matter of time before he has you entangled in his mess as well.

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: m (18+) genre: humor | angst | fluff | enemies to lovers!au | chaebol!au | ceo!jungkook | vp!reader word count: 44 k + note: so yeah. i gave up and accepted that this is gonna be a whole-ass series. i love these two too much to stop writing ’em! 😭 the overall word count and rating will be updated as things progress. tell me if anyone wants be added to the taglist! 💜

ps! unnumbered parts are extra drabbles that don’t contribute much to the main storyline.

— masterlist | feedback | ao3

▸ CHRONOLOGICALLY;

▸ 01 | knight in distress | pg-15 | 2.5 k | You hate him so much. And you also hate God for gifting him with such a delectable body when he literally has a peanut for a brain. Life is so unfair.

read here!

▸ 02 | damsel in shining armor | pg-15 | 4.8 k | Earth has completed a little over a revolution around the sun since Jeon Jungkook was brought onboard as the company’s CEO, but what does that change? Not a thing! You’re still his babysitter, he’s still an uncontrollably chaotic toddler, you still hate yourself for finding him hot, and he still needs you to save him from a crisis. Life is still so freaking unfair.

read here!

▸ 03 | disaster management | m (18+) | 17 k | An important investor wants to withdraw from a future project at Jeon Security, and you, the company's President, are to handle things before they blow over. A task that would have been easy despite the meeting’s location being the investor’s daughter’s wedding. Only – the presence of your unruly CEO, Jeon Jungkook, by your side the entire night when paired with alcohol… may lead to way bigger disasters than what the two of you can manage.

read here!

– the ferrari guy | pg-15 | 5 k | You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself.

coming soon!

▸ 04 | make-believe it’s hyperreal | m (18+) | ~20 k | The Chairman of Jeon Security has finally decided he needs a Vice Chairman to shoulder the responsibilities. You know you're the only one at the company who deserves this post, so if everyone thinks the promotion should stay in the family? Well, fuck that shit; you're gonna get engaged to your frenemy-with-benefits, Jeon Jungkook, and join the damn family! Or, at least – you're gonna pretend to.

read here!

– out of time | pg-13 | ~3k | Maybe there was hope, once. Maybe if he’d apologized when you fell into mud because of him when you both were 6 instead of blackmailing you because he was nervous. But Jungkook still distinctly remembers exactly who it was that comforted you after that incident, too. Maybe there never was any hope, after all.

coming soon!

▸ 05 | name tba | m (18+) | ~15k | Jungkook has gone back to his womanizing ways. Nothing about this amuses you now. There’s a pressure on your chest you can’t decipher; you’ve never had your heart broken before.

coming soon!

taglist: @shrimpmsg @codeinebelle @afangirllikeme-blog @duchesskaren @opaljm @knjsnoona @lovelynamj @kookiya17 @jub-jub @realisticnotes @chami @dopedreamfireparty @fanficscuziranout @prod-yuri @parkdatjimin @jkkkkkay @zshenbi @ahundredtimesover @ggukcangetit @jwlmnbt @luv--you @jiminscheekies @hubbytaehyung @callmejimmeo

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kookjinnies · 2 years

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as a “boyfriend hoseok” lobbyist, i present you these.

#jhope #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhsdaily #cyphernet #dailybts #bangtaninn #bangtanbathhouse #hyunglinenetwork #usersky #userkelli #trackofthesoul #usertaeyungie #heyryen #heyginkgo #tusermanny #*#gifs*#reposting bc it didn't show up in the tags

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magicshopaholic · 2 years

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Honey (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: A normal night in the kitchen turns into something more when you discover your boyfriend has an interesting kink.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Established relationship; smut, fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 6.5 K

Warnings: making out, palming, cupping, nipple play, food play, pain play, blowjobs, unprotected sex (she's on the pill), fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, mild dirty talk

A/N: After a long, long time, my beloved Jungkook and Lia are back! I honestly didn't think I'd write for these two again because their series ended short and sweet, but the more I thought about it, the more they just made sense as part of my headcanon universe.

As such, this fic is set a couple of months after The Sixth, once Jungkook and Lia are officially together. However, this can also be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @kflixnet @k-radio (italics cannot be tagged)

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask :)

Listen to: “in the waiting line” by zero 7

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

This wasn't what Lia had in mind when she'd proposed cooking together.

She was a reasonably okay cook, as was Jungkook, and together she expected they might be able to conjure up a decent dinner on their first night together since his trip to London and hers to Tokyo. Maybe there would be some bickering over seasoning, maybe a filmy food fight, possibly ending with some playful making out while they kept one eye on the stove.

Sitting before her mostly-naked boyfriend later that night with a jar of warm honey in her hand? Unexpected.

"Are you sure?"

Jungkook nods, eyes trained up at the ceiling. She can't tell if he's shy or doubtful, but if there's one thing she wants to be about this, it's sure.

A few hours earlier, when they'd been simultaneously trying to follow two recipes and keep her small kitchen tidy, all she cared about was ensuring that nothing spilled. But somehow, when it came to them, even that was expecting too much.

"Jungkook, hand me the spring onions."

"Wait - where's the chilli powder? The sauce is already thickening."

"It's in that cupboard over there, I think," she said hurriedly, pointing vaguely in the direction of the cabinets. "Under the cornflower. Can you hand me the spring -"

"Oh, fuck, that's spicy!" Jungkook hissed, screwing his eyes shut as he exhaled heavily through his mouth.

"Well, you aren't supposed to taste it, just smell it," she said, rolling her eyes but reaching over to take the powder from him anyway. "And can you - okay, you know what? I'll get the spring onions myself."

"I think my mouth is on fire."

"Can you put the cut onions in the other pot, babe? They won't cook otherwise."

"Okay, where is -"

"Other side of the stove," she began, but Jungkook found it by then. Maneuvering around her and reaching for the cutting board, he dropped the onions into the pot, a loud hiss and stinging vapour emanating instantly.

"Lower the heat, Kook!"

"I - oh, God, the sauce!" In a rather chaotic sequence of events, Jungkook lunged for the abandoned chilli powder while the sauce bubbled away on the stove, the same time that Lia suddenly remembered that she'd forgotten the noodles altogether.

As they slammed into each other, Lia turned suddenly to close a cabinet door just as Jungkook appeared behind her, and the edge of the door scraped his shoulder with an audible sound.

"Shit, Kook, I'm so sorry!" All thoughts of spring onions forgotten, she looked around frantically for any empty space on the counter to place them and free her hands, before turning to Jungkook. "Are you okay?"

He nodded wordlessly, head lowered as he clutched his right shoulder with his left hand, his knuckles white as he pressed down. She turned off the stove and reached for him, gently coaxing his hand away.

"Lia, it's okay -" He tried to say, shaking his head but she ignored him, guilt bubbling small and deep inside of her.

"Take off your shirt," she instructed, tugging at the bottom of it. He looked for a moment like he was going to argue but slipped his long-sleeved black t-shirt over his head, his thick hair tousled as he emerged.

"Show me," she said softly, turning him around so she could get a look at it. Taking a step back, she cleared a small space on the edge of the kitchen counter and hopped up onto it, now at eye level with his shoulder.

It was a gash; while the skin remained unbroken, it puckered, a clear red where the edge of the cabinet had run clean along the muscle. Lia touched it lightly before pausing, waiting for his reaction.

"Does it hurt?" she asked anxiously, running her finger over the four inch mark and immediately stopping when he hissed.

"Not really," he said tightly - but she could see his head still lowered and his fists clenched, and she sighed. Jungkook's need to pretend like he didn't feel pain was as unnecessary as it was predictable, but she wasn't fooled.

In an unusual moment of tenderness, she reached over slightly and kissed it. She heard him gasp and paused again, lips still against his skin.

"It's really okay, Lia." His voice was level and controlled, a little too deliberately. "I'm fine."

A bit confused, she backed away slowly, touching the injury once more. Jungkook inhaled again, his breathing ragged, and her heart tugged as she wondered guiltily how much her lack of organisation in the kitchen had hurt him.

"Okay…" she murmured, dropping her hands from his shoulders, frowning when he immediately reached for his t-shirt and slipped it on. "Do you want to finish cooking?" she asked, hopping off.

"No, you go ahead," he answered quickly, still not looking fully at her. "I'll - I'll eat later."

Lia's heart dropped. Was he really that angry with her? Jungkook wasn't one to have a very short temper, apart from the occasional tantrum here and there where he usually caught himself in time.

He was almost out of the kitchen when she suddenly hopped over and grabbed his arm. "Kook, wait."

"Lia, I just need -"

But she cut him off, tugging at his arm to get him to face her, moving right in front of him so he wouldn't have a choice. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would get so messy but -" She paused abruptly, wondering if that could possibly be what she thought it was.

Next to her, Jungkook froze, his eyes shut tightly. Lia bit her lip, staying in the same spot but moving her body slightly closer… just to confirm.

"Jungkook," she began lightly, "is that your phone in your pocket?"

"Um…" The arm she was holding flexed, and she could feel his sinewy forearm tremble. "... yes?" He twitched again, and this time the movement was unmistakable through his joggers.

"Really?" Lia asked in a hushed voice, hearing the wonder in it.

By the way he didn't answer right away, it was clear that he knew she wasn't asking about the proverbial phone in his pocket. Finally opening his eyes but still not looking at her, he nodded. "M-hm."

"I…" She didn't quite know how to respond - but the expression on his face combined with what she was feeling against her hip made her stomach flutter. "Since when?"

"A while."

When he didn't elaborate, she slid her hand lower to his tattooed one and linked her fingers with his. Her gaze flickering to the dent in his joggers, she raised a hand to feel it but paused, hovering less than an inch away from it.

"Just scratches?" she asked calmly, her voice just a murmur.

"N-no." Jungkook swallowed. "I mean… sometimes. Scratches, pressure… heat." Down below, his erection twitched, rising into her palm.

Lia's toes curled against the bare floor of her kitchen. She palmed him gently, raising her gaze to see him looking right back at her, this time with less embarrassment. "What else?" she asked quietly.

Now, she knows what else.

Jungkook lies on her bed, fully naked but for black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. His hair, uncut now for weeks, is long and slightly wavy on her white pillowcase. Lia sits beside him in a tank top and her underwear, a jar of warm honey she's just heated, a wooden ice cream spoon resting on the top of the jar.

"Are you sure?" she asks again, hearing the doubt in her own voice.

"Yeah," he mutters, gaze meeting hers. He seems… nervous, but in an excited sort of way, from what she can tell. It's like he's about to go bungee jumping or something - except she doesn't have a lot of second hand reviews of the experience in this case.

She can't help but press on. "You promise you'll ask me to stop the moment you're uncomfortable?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Okay." She doesn't move. From the bed, Jungkook raises his eyebrows.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Me? Yeah, of course." She shifts her hips on her heels from where she's kneeling next to him. Placing a hand on his muscular thigh in a mostly comforting manner, she squeezes it slightly.

"Do you remember the safeword?"

Jungkook nods obediently. "Mango."

Lia lets go of his thigh, satisfied. "Okay, then." She takes a deep breath, dipping the tip of her finger into the honey and wincing slightly at the heat before sucking at it. “Here we go.”

His eyes flutter shut and for a moment, Lia simply watches him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, like always. But he’s also ambitious, like always, which includes being so in bed. She has no reason not to trust him; it’s not inconceivable that he may have discovered kinks in his twenty-seven years of life that may be new to her, but his determination to see things through is enough to make her momentarily cautious. The image of a basketball flying through the air flashes through her mind and she shudders, trying to concentrate.

She dips the small wooden spoon into the honey and watches the thick, golden substance cling onto it and drip. Leaning forward, she dips the spoon again and this time takes it out of the jar over his body, watching the warm liquid drip onto the centre of his chest.

Jungkook gasps, but his eyes stay closed. The honey flows, slow and thick between his pectorals, the colour looking incandescent against his tan skin. Bending down and keeping her gaze firmly planted on his face, Lia reaches to lick the honey in one long stroke. It’s sweet, naturally, but not overtly so, and less hot on her tongue than when she’d felt it with her finger.

“Oh, fuck…” His whisper is low and throaty, and it almost sounds like he’s spoken without realising it. Slightly more confident, she swings one leg over his hips to straddle him, feeling his semi against her crotch. Noting the pleasurable squirm in her core at the feel of it, she dips the spoon into the jar again, this time gently dropping a dollop of honey on his sternum, taking care to let it trickle as much as it can, until it stops just above his belly button.

She places the jar next to him on the bed and, taking care to grind against him, leans forward to lick it off. Next to her, Jungkook’s fists clench again, this time with the sheets in his hands. Looking up at his face, Lia can’t resist any longer. Kissing his torso along the sternum and up his chest, sucking at the slightly sticky skin, she reaches up to his jaw.

“God, you’re so hot,” she murmurs, feeling him twitch against her again, big and hard this time. She brushes her lips against his jaw and down his neck, stopping right next to his bobbing Adam’s apple, her breath warm against it. Sliding one hand up his chest, she covers his right pectoral lightly, her fingernails scraping the muscle.

Jungkook whimpers, his neck arching back on the pillow. “Lia…”

Lia’s stomach flutters and she rolls her hips into his a bit more, biting her lip to stop herself from making a sound. “Yeah,” she whispers against his skin, bringing her fingertips lower so they brush against his areola. Underneath her, his cock gives the biggest twitch yet.

He swallows. “Honey…” He seems incapable of saying any more.

She pauses, wondering if she’s understood him right. Backing up slightly, she looks at his face again, at his closed eyes, the slight frown, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. Reaching silently for the honey, she dips the spoon in again, this time hesitating over his right pectoral. Evidently able to feel the heat, Jungkook nods, screwing his eyes shut even tighter.

Alright, then. Tilting the spoon, she watches the golden liquid drip onto his tan chest, down the curve, trickling down to his nipple. The sight makes her clit throb unexpectedly.

Jungkook gasps but doesn’t open his eyes, while his cock now strains against his underwear. Lia reaches over him again, slower this time and taking care to press her body to his, feeling the contours of his abdominal muscles against her own. She feels his hands touch her thighs, holding them gingerly as she touches her tongue to his skin, licking the honey off again, pressing her tongue to it and swirling it around his nipple. His hands react immediately, squeezing her flesh, while his pulsates against her clit.

“Oh, God,” he whimpers again, and Lia has to bite her lip from making a similar sound. “Lee-lee…”

She holds his biceps for support, feeling her fingernails dig into the muscle. “Yeah, baby?” she murmurs back, her teeth grazing lightly over his nipple.

“I…” Jungkook seems incapable of answering, but his hands slide up her thighs and to her arse, the tips of his fingers slipping under the hem of her underwear. His hands feel like he’s just about controlling himself, though, his palms touching her skin but resisting the urge to use the strength he normally does. Resisting… or waiting.

Running her tongue over his nipple again and noting how he shudders slightly, Lia reaches for his other nipple and twists it without warning.

“Fuck!”

As anticipated, he grabs her arse instantly, inadvertently rolling her hips into his, making her grind against him. “Fuck, Kook,” she whispers, but she’s sure he hasn’t even heard her. She licks his skin again, tasting the remnants of the honey before sucking softly at his nipple, moaning softly at the feel of his large cock against her clothed clit as he continues pulling her against him.

Jungkook groans again, and Lia feels herself getting wetter with every sound he makes, loving how good she’s making him feel. She presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against his skin, moving lower down his chest and to his sternum, all the way down his beautiful torso. It arouses her to no end the kind of pride he takes in his body, in toning it and growing it. Even his intense dieting seems to have reduced from what it used to be, according to his friends at least, and Lia can’t help but worship every inch of his gorgeous body when she gets the chance.

She can still taste the slight, sticky sweetness on his torso from the honey she’d poured on it earlier. Sliding down his lap, she continues down his abdomen until she reaches his happy trail, feeling his cock brush her breasts over her tank top. Lia wraps her hand gently around his clothed erection, her heart flipping at his sharp intake of breath.

"Do you want me to suck you?" she breathes, touching the tip and feeling the wet spot from the pre cum that's surely leaked out. In all the time that she's known him, he's never declined such an offer. This time is no different. His fingers tighten in her hair and he moans a soft yes.

Biting her lip and trying not to move too fast out of excitement, she pulls the elastic of his underwear, tugging it down his hips when he raises them off the bed. His erection springs free and Jungkook lets out a throaty sigh. Determined to tease him through everything tonight, Lia grasps him at the base, softly stroking him with her thumb. With her other hand, she gently cups his balls, anticipating his groan this time.

Jungkook’s hand appears from the side, almost as though he’s unaware of it, and covers her fingers around his cock. “Please…” is all he can say apparently before his hand falls back onto the bed. Swallowing, Lia silently acquiesces and moves her hand up his shaft, bringing her lips to it and pressing a soft kiss to the underside.

His hips buckle automatically but he tightens his fingers in her hair again. “No,” he mutters tightly.

Lia halts immediately before backing away. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“No,” he repeats, shaking his head. When she raises her head slightly to meet his gaze, he swallows. “Can you…?”

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip when he nods, his cock hard as rock in her hand. “Okay.” Letting go of him, she reaches for the jar of honey again, a bit more nervous this time. “It’s still hot, Kook,” she warns him softly, squeezing his thigh. “It could hurt.”

Jungkook meets her eyes again and he half-chuckles. “That’s kind of the point.” It’s clear that even he isn’t fully sure what to expect, but the sight of his erection, the tip wet and the girth solid, convinces her somewhat. Hesitating momentarily, Lia reaches up and kisses his cheek.

“Okay, then,” she whispers against his skin, pressing a lighter kiss to his jaw before pulling away. Sitting back on her heels, she spoons out a dollop of golden honey and, taking care to avoid the angry pink tip, she slowly lets the honey drip down his cock, swirling it a bit.

“Oh, fuck!” Jungkook whimpers loudly, making her jump, and he clutches at the sheets with his free hand. His face has that same expression again, the one that she can’t help but stop and stare at every time he’s close to finishing, with the sexy frown and his pink lips open.

Lia moves forward silently, just in time to catch a golden drop on her tongue before it drips onto her white sheets. She sucks on the sweetness, working her way up his balls, cupping them with her other hand as she cleans up every last bit of honey on him.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whines as his hips buckle again. One of his hands finds its way into her hair again, his fingers tangling in her dark locks. She runs her tongue up his cock, continuing to palm his balls gently, feeling her stomach flip every time he lets out a throaty grunt. She laps up every bit of honey until she reaches his tip and finally takes him in her mouth, the saltiness mixing with the sweetness on her tongue.

“Yes… fuck, yes.” Jungkook’s breath comes out in ragged bursts now, and only intensifies as Lia sucks him off, taking him in as far into her mouth as she can, vaguely tasting the last remnants of the honey on him. His fingers clutch at her hair, voice increasing in pitch, and she lets him go with a soft pop, immediately replacing her mouth with her hand, stroking him rapidly.

She wants to watch him. Jungkook is beyond handsome, enough that she catches herself staring at him doing the most mundane things far too often, but watching him come undone, especially when she’s the one doing it to him, is a sight she feels privileged to behold. His hand slides down from her hair down all the way to her hips, and she straddles his thighs to give both of them a better angle.

His torso glistens, partly due to the lighting and partly due to a light layer of sweat. She doesn’t know if she’s imagining the golden sheen because of the honey on her mind. Gazing at him, she increases the speed at which she’s stroking him, watching him with both fascination and arousal as she pushes him further and further.

She realises a moment too late what the expressions on his face mean, though. Without warning, she feels his hips buck under her again, coupled with a long and guttural groan, and suddenly feels something warm on her hand.

“Shit.” Jungkook sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m so -”

“For what?” Lia asks gently, leaning over him for the tissue box on the bedside table. She pulls out a couple for herself and hands him one as well.

“I - I should’ve warned you,” he mutters, shaking his head as he cleans himself up and chucks the tissue in the corner of the room. “I wanted to cum in -” He breaks off, his ears turning red even as he pants in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She bites her lip, trying not to smile. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, throwing her soiled tissue to the side like him and straddling him fully. His hands come up to grasp her hips and he sighs when she trails her kisses down his jaw. “I loved doing that to you,” she murmurs.

“It was amazing,” he admits, running his hands up her waist and closing his eyes as her lips against his skin, her long hair brushing his chest. His voice is still slightly shaky and she feels his heart beat rapidly under her palms. “I want to make you feel good, too,” he adds softly after a moment.

Lia freezes, her lips on his sternum. Jungkook evidently feels it, for he squeezes her hips and, against all odds, his cock twitches against her arse. Down below, her clit throbs as though it’s just remembered what was happening a minute ago. Looking up at him, she bites her lip.

“You don’t have to,” she says after a moment. “If you’re feeling guilty or something.”

“I’m not.” He looks down, meeting her gaze. “I really, really want to… make you feel good,” he finishes. He’s still catching his breath from his own orgasm, his eyes dark and glassy.

She swallows, her heart beating faster in anticipation. “How are you planning on doing that?” she asks, crawling up his chest and straightening up slightly. As she slips off her tank top, she hears his sharp intake of breath. Just as she’s been unable to reconcile herself to how stunning he looks on a day to day basis, often stopping mid-task just to watch him, it’s evident that he’s been just as unsuccessful every time she takes off her clothes, especially a top.

“Shit, come here,” he mutters, tugging at her hips. Pulling her close, they kiss for the first time since they started, all the pent up energy exploding the moment their mouths meet.

Lia moans into his mouth, his hands burning into her skin and his chest feeling hard and steady against hers. She rolls her hips into his, the friction feeling delicious against her soaking core. He moves his hands to grab her arse, his fingers sliding the elastic down to feel her skin, firm and round in his grasp. She can’t help but moan again, when Jungkook suddenly flips them over.

Hovering over her, his wavy hair in his face and his lips twisted into a playful smirk, Lia’s heart has no chance. It’s the hardest thing in the world to try and stop kissing him, and when he begins making his way down her torso, burying his face in her cleavage, she thinks she might just be falling in love with him.

“Take this off,” he mutters, wrapping an arm around her and lifting her off the bed by a couple of inches so she can reach behind her and unhook her bra. He groans the moment her breasts are freed, immediately reaching up for them and kneading them. His eyes flutter shut, almost as though he’s moving simply through his sense of touch, lightly nipping the flesh until his lips reach her nipples.

“Oh, that feels good,” she sighs, her back arching slightly when he licks her right nipple, his other hand twisting her left one between two fingers. She runs her fingers through his hair, feeling it damp as he begins sucking on her nipple, almost hypnotised. She moves her hips upwards against pelvis, trying to get more friction and whining in impatience when he shifts. “Kook…”

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to part from her breasts, pressing kisses to the underside and down to her ribs until he travels all the way to the bottom of her torso. “You’re so sexy,” he murmurs, sucking softly at the flesh just above the hem of her underwear. With his mouth so close to her clit, she can feel herself soaking further through her underwear, barely able to hold on anymore.

“God, Kook, put your tongue in me,” she whispers, gently yanking at his hair. He gasps, immediately moving lower and pulling her underwear down. His breathless chuckle tells her he can see just how wet she is.

“You really thought I didn’t have to take care of you?” he asks, gently pushing her legs up so her knees bend. Even through the haze of arousal, she can hear how earnest he sounds. “Even when you’re like this?”

“I…” She looks down and meets his lustful gaze, her heart flipping when she notices how his tongue is poking into his cheek. “I want you now. I really… really want you to take care of me right now.” She drops her head back down onto the pillow and the next second, she feels his mouth press a kiss right next to her lips. “Oh, God…”

Thankfully, he doesn’t tease her anymore, simply moving to kiss her outer lips before his tongue finds her clit, swollen and ready for him. He presses his tongue against the nub, his strong hands holding her thighs up as he laps up her juices, his lips soft yet firm against her cunt.

“Yes, Jungkook…” Lia clutches at his hair, her core burning in a way that tells her she’s close, so close. “Suck on it… fuck, Kook, I want -” Her words are cut off when she whimpers, feeling him suck on her clit, first gently, then harder. His tongue moves in long, steady strokes, pulling her thighs to his face. “Yes, oh, god, yes…”

She moves a hand up to her chest, pinching her nipple while her other hand stays in his hair and she spreads her legs as much as she can. She can feel him groaning into her, and the sound is just about pushing her over the edge. “God, Kook, don’t stop, don’t -” She twists her nipple harder, her back arching even more. She can feel a clamminess on her neck but she doesn’t bother for she’s so close…

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

Her orgasm crashes over her, all the way from her cunt to her chest, and all the way down to her extremities. She sees nothing but spots for a moment, only vaguely feeling him crawl up her body. He kisses the top of her rib cage, the tops of her breasts, lip ghosting over her neck, her jaw, her earlobe.

“You are so fucking hot, Lee-lee,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek before capturing her lips in his. She wraps her arms around his neck, wanting to feel nothing but him against her for the rest of the night, possibly the rest of her life. There’s only one thing that gets her eyes to snap open; she frowns in confusion as he sucks softly at her collarbone.

“Are you still hard, baby?”

Jungkook pauses, and she knows she’s right. Stiff and poking into her pelvis, Jungkook’s cock twitches tellingly the moment she utters the words.

“Yes,” he whines hoarsely into her neck, burying his nose further into the crevice as he tightens his arms around her. “But you’re sore and I -”

“Says who?” Lia waits as he falls silent, and she can practically hear his brain working out a response. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes in what she can only describe as endeared exasperation, she presses a kiss to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat off his skin. Truth be told, she doesn’t know if she’s sore yet. Her clit will surely be sensitive, but the thought of him hard and aroused is something she can’t bring herself to ignore.

Jungkook straightens up slightly so he can look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, eyes wide. Against her hip, she can feel him twitch again. “Because I can -”

She kisses him, sighing into his mouth when he kisses her back, lips firm and passionate against hers. “I would really like for you to fuck me, Jungkook,” she murmurs against his lips, running a hand through his hair again. Pressing her chest up to his, she nips at his lower lip. “I want you to get me wet -” she moves her lips to his jaw “- and enter me -” she kisses the spot under his ear “- and stretch me out -” she bites softly at his earlobe as he hisses “- and since it’s a weekend, I want you try and make sure I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Jungkook pulls away slowly, biting his lip, and before she can gaze at his handsome face again, he straightens up and flips her over onto her stomach. The movement makes her swollen clit brush against the sheets and she lets out an involuntary moan.

“You’re really sure, baby?” he asks, his fingers already brushing between her thighs. When she nods, not trusting herself to speak, she feels his fingers travel up her arse and to the small of her back, running over where she knows is her stupid tramp stamp, the worst drunk decision she’s ever made, and what Jungkook insists is his favourite tattoo of hers ever since she told him she hated it.

“Can I try something?”

Lia frowns, expecting to feel his fingers inside of her by now. She props herself up on her elbows to look back at him, her messy hair partially obscuring her view. “What?” When she sees his eyes dart to the jar of honey on the bedside table, she bites her lip. “Are you serious?”

“I mean, only - only if you’re okay with it,” he adds quickly, moving his hand up to stroke her back. “I just - I wanted to try.” His cheeks start reddening and he looks away, his doubtful expression extremely incongruous to his large and muscular body, tall and naked like a Greek statue.

After considering it for a moment, she shrugs. “Okay. Just… make sure it doesn’t get on the sheets.”

His eyes widen. “Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised, even as his cock pulses against her hip. He swallows when she nods, his free hand absently finding her arse cheek and squeezing it. He leans over to retrive the jar as she turns back around, sweeping her long hair off her back. “It’s not even that hot anymore,” he promises, adjusting himself between her spread legs. “Ready?”

Lia nods into the pillow, tensing only slightly. “Yeah.” A moment later, she gasps softly when she feels a hot liquid on the middle of her back, trickling thick and warm down her spine.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook’s voice is tentative, but there’s a hint of longing there and it only makes her wish she could see the look on his face.

“Yeah.” She nods again, for after a few seconds, the initial shock of the heat wears off. The closest comparison she has to it is wax, except it isn’t as scalding - and is far less punishing, especially when the strip is replaced with Jungkook’s mouth, wet and slow, slowly making its way up her back. She sighs into the pillow, feeling his strong frame cover her completely as he presses open-mouthed kisses all the way up to her neck.

“Was it okay?” he murmurs, kissing the spot on her shoulder where another tattoo lies - this one actually her favourite. She answers in a soft, content moan, feeling his erect cock settle in between her arse cheeks while his torso presses comfortably against her back. “Are you okay with more?”

“Just a bit,” she answers, not wholly comfortable with the stickiness she’s sure will remain. Jungkook acquiesces, dribbling a smaller amount, this time straight on her lower back where the sting of the heat feels slightly sharper. His mouth is on her skin instantly, his hands kneading at her arse before one brushes in between her legs and lightly feels for her cunt.

“Step one, done,” he confirms against her skin, and she can hear the smirk in his voice as he feels her wetness returning. Clearly aware of how sensitive she might be already, he continues with soft, gentle strokes against her clit.

Lia moans louder this time, clutching at her pillow as she savours the feel of his fingers, long and firm against her. His thumb ghosts over her pussy, but he doesn’t put his finger in and she’s grateful for the short respite, especially if he’s intending on following through with her requests.

“Kook,” she gasps after a minute, feeling the familiar heat in her abdomen once again. Behind her, Jungkook pauses where his mouth is on her shoulder blade and two of his fingers are inside her slit, rubbing her nub deliciously. “Kook, I’m gonna cum if you keep going, baby,” she admits, fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together.

He brushes her hair off her shoulder and kisses her neck. “I can move on to step two?”

“God, yes…” She squeezes her eyes shut when his fingers disappear, unable to keep from groaning in their absence. Her heart begins thudding, though, when he straightens up behind her and holds her hips, lifting them up slightly before entering her. “Fuck, Kook…”

Behind her, Jungkook groans in pleasure as he stretches her out, giving her everything she’d asked for. He pulls out halfway again before bottoming out, her wet cunt making the movement smooth yet tight. Lia muffles her moans into the pillow as he establishes a rhythm, feeling his balls brush againsther clit with every thrust.

“God, Kook…” She swallows, trying to find her voice. “Are you sure you can give me enough of a reason not to walk tomorrow?”

Jungkook responds with a grunt, thrusting hard into her. “I know I can,” he mutters, and, just as she’d hoped, he slams into her with renewed force, increasing his speed. Her whimpers grow louder and his groans increase in pitch as well. “Fuck, your cunt is so perfect, Lee-lee…”

His words send a wave of pleasure through her and she pushes her hips towards him, willing him to fuck her harder. “Yes - god, yes, Jungkook… fuck, just like that -”

Just as she says it, he pulls out and flips her over. The sight of him once again makes her heart race and she pulls him to her, kissing him frantically. Pulling away with a wondrous chuckle, Jungkook brushes a damp strand of hair off her neck. “You really think I can’t fuck you that hard?” he asks, his tone playful and sexy all at once, as though she’s challenged him at FIFA.

Despite how breathless she is and how much her cunt is aching for him, she scoffs. “Prove it, Jeon,” she says, panting slightly.

He bites his lip and grins, sweaty hair falling into his eyes, and holds her gaze as he enters her this time. It doesn’t last long, for he lowers his head to kiss her neck and her eyes flutter shut as she takes him in, feeling so full and so connected to him that she whimpers his name.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, pushing into her and resuming his pace. Lia wraps her legs around his waist, feeling his sweaty body against hers as he thrusts into her with all the strength his body looks like it would have.

“Harder, Jungkook…”

He obliges, his hips snapping against hers, the sound echoing against the walls of her room. She's vaguely glad that Dal isn't in the house; the sound of him slamming into her, coupled with their moans and whimpers and grunts could wake residents more than one floor up.

"Lia, I'm close…" Jungkook gasps, his torso shining above her as he picks up his pace. She nods, biting down on her lip hard, chasing the orgasm she knows is building, about to overwhelm her at any point.

The last few punishing thrusts send her over the edge and her vision swims as she comes undone, somehow making out Jungkook's throaty groan as well as he finishes inside her. She can feel his warmth coat her walls vaguely as she clenches weakly around him, wanting him to stay there forever. He lowers his head to kiss her, seeming just as dazed as she feels.

“Fuck, that was incredible,” she whispers, left with no energy for more. Jungkook nods and kisses her again, his mouth curving into a gorgeous, tired smile. Groaning softly, he pulls away and reaches for the tissue box. He pulls out of her slowly, and Lia doesn’t even care that she audibly whines as he does, suddenly feeling cool and empty. He cleans himself up and wipes the insides of her thighs in a few quick strokes before sinking onto the bed beside her.

Automatically curling into his chest the same moment he holds out his arm, both of them catch their breath in relative silence.

“So?” Jungkook asks after about a minute, and she looks up to see him running a hand through his damp, wavy strands. “Did I do it?”

It takes Lia a moment to understand what he’s referring to. Cuddling further into him, she shrugs. “We’ll find out tomorrow.”

He chuckles but doesn’t say anything, simply tightening his arm around her. “By the way,” he says after a few seconds, “how was the… I mean, were you okay with…” He raises his eyebrows and motions with the other hand, as though holding a spoon.

“Oh.” Lia considers this. “It was sweet,” she decides, smiling when Jungkook grins and turns towards her to kiss her. His lips are so soft and comforting, and he pulls her close with both arms, enveloping her. “But I don’t think it’s really my thing,” she adds when they pull apart.

He nods. “That’s fair. Maybe you can stay the chef and I’ll be your snack,” he suggests.

She laughs. “That’ll be one hell of a snack, Jeon.” When Jungkook simply shrugs and winks at her, she feels the same fluttering in her chest as she did before, the one where she’s sure her heart won’t stand a chance when it comes to him. It’s a big deal, a big step to confess what she thinks she’s feeling and the last thing she wants to do is push this relationship into anything before they’re ready.

Still, when he presses his lips to her forehead and hugs her closer, she rests her cheek against his chest and wonders if it might just be the right time, or if he feels the same at all. He seems to adore her; he’s young and ambitious, but the look on his face every time he looks at her is the main reason she's been excited to wake up every morning the last three months.

Her heart starts racing again, this time in anticipation. “Kook,” she says softly, feeling him turn his head to look at her. She doesn’t return his gaze, however, suddenly too self-conscious. “I, um…” She clears her throat. “I want to…” Shit.

“Yeah?” he prompts when she doesn’t speak for another few seconds.

Lia sighs. “I need to take a shower.”

Maybe now really isn’t the right time.

“Oh.” Jungkook pauses. “Okay. Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah, alright.” Despite the failed confession, she finds her stomach flip pleasantly at the thought. “But I have to warn you,” she says, sitting up with a wince, “I don’t think I have round three in me.”

—

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h0neypjm · 2 years

Text

"big tiddie anime bitches" | jjk

↳ Summary: Jungkook, bless his heart, has an obsession. An obsession with big titty anime girls and the idea of you dressed as them. His birthday is coming up, what better time to fulfil his weeb fantasies than on Jungkook's special day.

Alternatively...

You hate the idea of dressing up as those stupid "big tiddie anime bitches" but your love for Jeon Jungkook is stronger. Besides Jungkook will have his turn next.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x reader

↳ Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship, 'maid for you' couple !

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 3.5k

↳ Warnings: disgusting amount of love and adoration between these two ew, unprotected sex, swearing, spanking, titty job, oral (both female and male), spit, reverse cowgirl, lovebites, fingering, big dick! jk, stomach bulging, creampies, crying (but the good kind), dom! jk,

↳ a/n: this is a prequel to my other fic 'maid for you' however this fic can be read on its own. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JEON JUNGKOOK MY LOVE <3

“Okay, hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook, I will not hear you out.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rise from the couch and head to your bathroom, leaving a pouting Jungkook who follows you like a lost puppy.

“Don’t you think it would be so hot though,” Jungkook tries again.

You hastily clip your hair back, eyeing him through the reflection of the mirror, “maybe for you, you pervert.”

Jungkook remains nonchalant, your claim doing little to defer his desires. “Babeee,” he whines again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close so he can lean his chin onto your shoulder.

“Sorry that I don’t want to feed into your weeb fantasies,” you say, reaching for your toothbrush.

Jungkook’s silent for a while, watching as you brush your teeth before muttering a quiet, “fine,” and leaving you with a light kiss to your neck.

In all honesty, the thought of dressing up as Mai from you and Jungkook’s recent anime binge, ‘Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai,’ doesn’t disgust you. You’ll admit, her little bunny girl get up is hot, and out of all the other characters Jungkook has begged you to dress up as, the bunny girl outfit is probably one of the easiest costumes to get into because let’s be real, no matter how much Jungkook begs you will never paint yourself blue (he can find his own Widowmaker somewhere else).

As you finish up your skincare, you ponder over his request once again. His birthday is coming up soon, and ignoring the fact that there's a suspicious lump of presents stuffed in the back of your closet all for him, one more present wouldn’t hurt.

Entering your bedroom you find your boyfriend bundled up in the sheets, the glow of his phone highlighting his pretty face.

You make yourself known, your knee dipping into the mattress, making Jungkook turn over towards you, his arms welcoming you for your nightly spooning.

“You’re not mad at me right?” he whispers into your hair to which you reply with a snort, “no, why would I be?”

Jungkook sighs like he’s embarrassed, nuzzling his nose deep into your neck, you wiggle away at the ticklish feeling but his strong arms keep you in place. “Because I always ask you to dress up as those characters even though you always like to rant to me about the male gaze and how a bikini doesn’t count as armour.” He cards his fingers through your hair, his other hand rubbing small comforting circles on the skin of your waist, “I don’t want you to think i’m some crazed horndog who objectifies their girlfriend.”

You laugh, big and goofy, and if Jungkook wasn’t so caught up in his thoughts he would’ve kissed you silly.

“Baby I would never think that, you’ve proved to me many times that your love is genuine. But hey, I don't blame you, I’ve got great tits,” you declare, turning to face his sleepy eyes.

“And a great ass too,” he adds, gripping your bottom with a tight hold that makes you gasp.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, pure adoration across his face.

You wanna squish his cheeks so bad, “aww you love me?” comes your teasing reply.

Jungkook rolls his eyes before wriggling into a more comfy position, “just say it back so I can sleep.”

You give into your desire to squish his cheeks by booping his nose. It scrunches cutely and he opens one eye, “I love you too,” you finally say.

The lively music is cranked down and the attention is solely focused on Jungkook. He’s got a big smile plastered across his face, his cheeks a cute shade of pink as he raises his cup.

“I’d just like to thank you all for being here tonight, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday celebration,” Jungkook announces, eliciting a “I LOVE YOU JEON JUNGKOOK!” from none other than a plastered Park Jimin. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle when he shouts back a string of adoration before pulling you in towards him.

“I would also like to thank my beautiful girlfriend who planned this all out,” Jungkook says, those eyes of his that you love so much sparkling just for you.

A round of “awws” makes its way to the two of you and you shyly hide your blush into Jungkook’s chest. He gently kisses the top of your head, the flicker of his birthday candle flames creating an angelic aura around you.

When the chorus of singing finally dies down and Jungkook bends down to blow out his candle and make a wish, he wishes for a forever happiness with you.

As you approach Jungkook with the last handful of empty beer cans, you dump them into the large trash bag and wrap your arms around his backside.

“Hey,” you whisper, gripping his shirt to grab his attention.

“What is it baby,” Jungkook replies mindlessly, scrubbing a stubborn stain out of a plate.

A mischievous grin paints your visage as you tell him, “I have one more present for you.”

Placing the clean plate onto the drying rack, Jungkook cranes his next to look at you, “what! baby you’ve done so much for me already.”

Your smile only grows wider as you gauge Jungkook’s reaction to your words, “I know, but I wanted to fulfil one of your wishes.”

Jungkook pauses, his head tilting slightly as he tries to remember what you’re talking about. “What do you mean wish? What wish are we talking about here?”

You release your grip on him to lean against the counter top, eyeing him closely, “you know… the thing you wanted me to do the other week?”

He shakes his head, looking at you as if it would help him remember before giving up, “I’m lost.”

Pushing yourself off of the counter you roll your eyes, “ugh just meet me in the bedroom when you're done,” you say as you sashay out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

There’s a long second that passes, the water from the tap suddenly getting hot before Jungkook breathes in with a mumbled, “oh, oh.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s eyes light up with the realisation that he was gonna get lucky tonight. He rushes to the bedroom, almost breaking a glass cup on the way. He expects you to be on the bed laid out for him, but you’re not.

There’s a sliver of yellow light that spills from under the bathroom door and a quiet “shit” that leaves your lips. Jungkook hears a snap, like a rubber band against skin, a small whimper comes from your mouth and Jungkook worriedly knocks on the door.

“What are you doing in there? Are you okay?”

When you bought the damn costume you didn’t read the reviews. You completely missed the part where numerous people recommended buying a size up. Now you’re suffering those consequences and you finally shimmy the body suit on.

“Get on the bed and wait,” you try to say as sweetly as you can, but there's a twinge of struggle that comes making Jungkook lean his ear suspiciously against the door.

“Alright, I’ll wait, but I should remind you that It’s my birthday and you shouldn’t keep the birthday boy waiting.”

You hear the shuffle of bedsheets, Jungkook probably listening to you and lying down on the bed. You stare at yourself in the mirror, both shocked and surprised at how good you look despite the fact that your tits bulge out like you’ve squeezed yourself into those corsets from the 19th century. Not to mention that the body suit is so tight that if you took a deep breath it kind of hurt, but you’ve already made it this far, and you have an excited birthday boy on the other side of the door so with small inhale that doesn’t cause your lungs to hate you, you open the bathroom door.

“Can I open my eyes now,” Jungkook asks excitedly, his tattooed hands covering the entirety of his face.

You’re standing like a stiff soldier, unsure of how to present yourself, “uh, no, don’t look yet.”

Should you pose? How should you stand? Maybe lean against the doorframe? No that’s stupid…

“Oh, fuck”

In the midst of deciding if you should pose like a bunny girl, or get onto the bed, Jungkook had lost his patience and opened his eyes.

“Jungkook! I told you to shut your eyes.”

Jungkook remains frozen, his eyes big as he drinks up your curves. He doesn’t know where to look. Your hips are rounded to perfection, thick thighs on display, your boobs practically one jump away from popping out, the cute bunny ears standing tall that surprisingly suit your features.

“Shit, is it bad that i’m already hard, fucking hell.”

Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s proud because he finally convinced you to dress up for him or proud at the fact that you’re all his. His dick however, agrees to both.

“Men,” you scoff sarcastically as you crawl towards Jungkook whose head lays against the headboard, his taut thighs spread as if to welcome you.

You find comfort between his thighs kneeling before him and holding his chin in your hand. “Happy birthday, Jungkook,” you say, seduction dropping from your lips.

He smirks back, eyes dropping down to your glossy lips, “mmm, happy birthday to me indeed.”

It’s messy, both your lips getting sticky with a mixture of your lip gloss and saliva, but you love it. Jungkook opens his mouth, you follow his rhythm, your tongue poking out to intertwine with his.

You moan into his mouth when his hands find purchase on your ass. His big hands squeeze both cheeks before slapping them, a loud smack echoing around the room. His action pushes you closer to him, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

Jungkook’s hands continue to wander before he giggles softly at the discovery of the cute fuzzy tail attached to your bottom.

“Cute,” he utters into your neck, licking your collarbones and sucking your sweet skin.

“What?” you pant, leaning your head back to offer more skin to Jungkook, to which he happily leaves a trail of love bites that slowly bloom along your neckline.

He pokes your butt, “you have a little tail.”

You wiggle your hips, the tail brushing along Jungkook’s hand. You move away from him and run your nails down his thighs, “whatever, get your shirt off and your dick out.”

A lopsided smile erupts on his face, “ohh bunny girl is feisty tonight.” Though, he obeys your command, pulling his shirt over his head in that weird but attractive way that boys do, and unbuckles the belt of his jeans.

Jungkook is indeed very hard, his cock slapping against his abdomen the second it's released from the denim.

You spit into your hand, gripping his cock immediately, drawing out a shocked groan from your boyfriend.

You take care of him with love, your grip tight, making sure to fist his red tip before bringing it back down the length of his shaft.

Once his cock is nice and prepped, shiny from your saliva, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking softly before fluttering your lashes up at him.

His lids are half open, to keep his gaze on you while revelling in the bliss of your heavenly mouth. “Fuck baby, love your mouth,” he groans, bringing his fingers to brush away the strands that fall into your eyes.

You continue your actions, bobbing your head up and down as you watch your boyfriend crumble from pleasure. Suddenly, an idea pops into your brain. Releasing his length from your mouth, you begin to pull off the tight clear straps from your shoulders.

Your tits pop out provocatively, bouncing slightly as they’re released from the confinements of the tight bodysuit.

Jungkook stares, mouth wide open, “wh-what are you doing.”

You’re still continuing to jerk him off, and Jungkook swears he’s about to bust a nut when you ask, “do you wanna fuck my tits?”

He sits up at that, startling you, “are you kidding? Fuck yeah I do.”

You laugh at his cute reaction and flick your hair so it falls off your shoulder, you gotta make sure the girls are all clear for your man after all.

Jungkook holds the base of his cock and you use your hands to press your tits together. He slides in with ease, a hiss and a small “shit” falling from his lips.

You keep your gaze on him, he always likes when you look at him during intimate times like this. You continue your stare, eyes hazy and you let drool dribble out of your mouth, letting it run

down your cleavage and onto his tip. His dick twitches in response and you hide your smile by biting your lip.

Holding your tits together you bounce them up and down, you stick your tongue out teasingly, letting it connect to his tip every time his cock peeps through your cleavage.

“Does it feel good baby?” you ask, helping Jungkook speed up the rhythm of his thrusts. “Mmm God, feels so good baby,” he whines and you swear a flood breaks out in your panties.

You love to please him, his eyes fluttering shut, until he takes his cock out of your hold. “Come here love, I'm gonna cum if you keep going. It's my turn now.”

You pout at the loss of his warmth, “babe it's your birthday, today is all about you. Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook gets up, pulling his jeans fully off his body, leaving his stark naked in front of you. You shamelessly ogle his body, he’s just so fine!

“There’s a flaw in your logic there babe. Today is all about me, therefore I get to decide what I want to do. And what I want to do is eat you out.”

“Alright birthday boy,” you grin, switching places with Jungkook. Before you lay down you start to remove your bodysuit, that’s until Jungkook lets out a choked, “no! Keep it on.”

You pause, head cocking to the side, “but how are you gonna-”

“Shh, don’t even worry about it, leave all the work to me babe.”

And work he does as he gets right into pleasuring you.

Jungkook starts by teasing you slowly, kissing your heat over the thin material. “Shit baby, you’ve soaked your costume,” he jibes, hooking his thumbs under the elastic to reveal your dripping slit.

You feel his hot breath as it hits your pussy making you involuntarily clench at what’s to come. “Fuck, baby you’ve got the prettiest pussy in the world.”

You cross your arms over your face embarrassed, “Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook listens, flattening his tongue against you, tasting you.

You inhale sharply as Jungkook pulls the costume back more and you fist the sheets when he finally dives in.

“Oh, God! Jungkook!” you moan, basking in the electric pleasure that shoots through you as Jungkook sucks and tongues at your clit like a man starved.

With his free hand, he pops two fingers in his mouth, watching your flushed expression with dark eyes. You feel his fingers at the entrance of your hole, teasing you as his tongue continues to draw pictures on your swollen nub.

Your thighs clench around Jungkook’s head when he slips two of his fingers inside of you. “Ah! Feels so good, baby.”

He says nothing, his reply coming through the wet sounds of his mouth and fingers.

Jungkook is skilled, used to all the signs and crevices of your body, so when your hips begin to lift, and your toes begin to clench, Jungkook keeps at his pace.

His mouth opens and closes around your heat, his fingers curling inside as you explode, your orgasm completely swallowing you.

You throw your head back into the pillows, a whine bubbling out of your mouth. Once your hips settle back down, Jungkook knows the high is over, releasing his mouth and fingers off of you.

Your costume snaps back into place and you sigh, Jungkook crawling on top of you, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He always gets so cocky after making you cum.

He kisses you again and you melt, tasting yourself on his tongue.

His hands find your waist and you squeal into his neck as he swiftly flips you on top of him. You brush away the hair that had fallen into your face from the abrupt movement, “your strength continues to amaze me,” you giggle, smiling down sweetly at Jungkook.

You kiss him again because you simply can’t get enough of him, he slaps your ass grabbing your attention. “I want you to turn around.”

You almost frown, “but I want you to look at me when I ride you.”

He runs a ringer down your arm before squeezing your boob in his palm, “you will baby just turn around for me first.”

You comply anyway, turning your body away from him, “you just wanna watch my bunny tail bounce don’t you,” you accuse. Jungkook laughs, “maybe.”

You don’t allow another second to be wasted, sitting up on your knees to move the sticky costume to the side. With your other hand you reach down and hold the base of Jungkook’s cock, positioning it at your entrance before slowly sinking down on him.

You both groan at the sensation of your warmth enveloping his length, your voices harmonising together in pleasure. You swivel your hips in small circles, getting comfortable with his huge size.

Jungkook places both hands on your hips, and you take that as a sign to show him how well you can ride it.

You begin with a light bounce, letting go of the bunny girl costume material as his cock holds it out of the way. You lean your hands on his thighs gaining a steady rhythm humming at the euphoria that spreads through your body.

Jungkook will admit, the sight of your bunny tailed ass paired with the ears that sit atop of your cute head is a sight that makes him release a deep groan.

His hands tighten on your skin and he thrusts up, his body spinning in pleasure, “baby you’re so hot, so tight, fuck.”

You try your best to maintain the speed, loud wet smacks ricocheting around the walls of your room. However, the burn in your tired thighs takes over, and Jungkook notices the way you start to slow down, and he’s not having it.

Jungkook takes the reins and thrusts his hips at a rapid speed that has you screaming his name. As Jungkook increases his speed, he grabs both of your arms, using them to help him piston into you at a faster speed.

“Ah! Oh fuck Jungkook” is all you can say, the pleasure vibrating all over your skin. A mix of both your essences melds together and drips down your thighs, you sigh and fall back against his chest. You can finally see Jungkook, and god, he’s so pretty.

Jungkook continues to thrust into you, his breath staggered and rough as it rushes against your ear. Your tits bounce ferociously like those hentai videos you’ve caught him watching, and as you expected, he grabs one in his hand rubbing a finger over your nipple and squeezing the other.

You pant in his neck, leaving small kisses on his hot skin to which he turns his head to offer you his lips.

Jungkook’s hand releases your tit to find your clit, rubbing fast circles that push you further to your release.

Your mouth falls open, unable to speak. Jungkook is focused on the way your bodies meet, his eyes wide when he notices something.

“Holy shit, look at that love, my dick so big you can see it through your stomach.”

You raise your head, eyes almost crossing at the sight of the bulge that pokes through your stomach every time Jungkook sends a hard thrust into you.

You can’t take it anymore, “Jungkook! Baby I’m gonna cum,” you feel your eyes starting to water at the impending explosion of your orgasm.

You know Jungkook is close, his teeth wrapped around his bottom lip, “yeah, hold it baby I’m almost there, fuck I love you.”

You could almost cry. “I love you so much too Koo.”

With one final thrust you both cum together.

Jungkook holds you tightly, his dick snug inside of your walls as he starts to soften.

No words are spoken, just the sound of deep breaths and shuddered sighs. It’s heavenly.

Jungkook gently exits your heat, his cum slowly dripping out onto your thighs and onto your bed sheets.

“Just letting you know, it’s gonna be your turn next,” you mumble tiredly, stretching your arms before wrapping them around Jungkook’s head as he continues to catch his breath.

He only scoffs in return, turning his head towards you to plant a sweet kiss against your forehead, “as if.”

Oh, you're so getting back at him.

#h0neypjm #mine #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #btsghostie #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts #btsdreamcourt #jungkook fluff #ficswithluv

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hongcherry · 2 years

Text

In Your Web || jjk (m)

"Jungkook’s nightly patrol should be focused on catching criminals. Instead, he’s too occupied with his girlfriend and his webs."

🕸 Pairing: spiderman!Jungkook x girlfriend!Reader(f)

🕸 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Heavy on the fluff, smut; spiderman au, college au, SBaFL au

🕸 Warnings: dom!jk, they love kissing each other 🤷, unprotective sex (be safe everyone!), oral(m), fingering, reader is restrained at one point, rough sex, cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, cocky!jk, jk's cheesy but what's new?

🕸 Word Count: 10k (yassss!!!! *pats self on back*)

🕸 Credits: [betas] @hoebii Mel babe D: thank you for staying by my side. you're a reminder that good people still exist. i love u bby 🥺 n ty for the great ideas on describing jk in his suit n for yn's contact name heh; @jeonjcngkook Jords, thank you for all your help and thought you put into beta'ing! i learned new things from you! | [banner] @missgeniality SIYAAAAA!!!!! this banner is so fun to look at!!! you took my vision and make it a reality! ty for offering your talented services to me! it looks so G O O D

🕸 Storyline: This fic can be read as a standalone, but it does contain specific references to events from Seeing Double, Prepare for Trouble as well as Warning Signs. However, it doesn’t affect the overall plot... It does give a few spoilers though.

🕸 Author's Note: Happpppy birthday, Jungkook! May your day be filled with laughter and smiles and love and and and an—sklgjavf 💖 u a star

They're back!!!!! Thank you everyone for being patient as I finished my semester and found my motivation again. I've had this idea for a long time, so I'm glad it's finally being brought to life! This was meant to be a short fic, but I've really been wanting to write a long one lately... which has been a struggle D: So I'm very proud of myself for actually writing so much! Anyway, enjoy!

Please reblog and share your thoughts/comments with me as they make me happy hehe 😊 I reply!

SBaFL universe | bts masterlist

The cold metal beneath your hands sent a shiver throughout your body. Despite the chilly material, you gripped it firmly as you ascended what you hoped was a sturdy ladder.

Maybe agreeing to meet on a rooftop at night wasn’t the wisest decision. The experience would’ve been better if the weather wasn’t so cold. Regardless, you didn’t want to back out now.

The day was uneventful. You had only attended your classes before finishing up some homework. Occasionally, you would sneak in some time to watch something on YouTube. Although that was entertaining, it was only temporary as you were brought back to reality when your eyes found your uncomplete homework.

College wasn’t as exciting as you had heard it was. You weren’t a part of any groups that frequented parties, so perhaps that was the reason... not that you needed to be in order to have fun. You were content with the group of friends you had. However, the issue was your friends were busy with their own academia too. You were rarely in the same room with all of them.

After thirty minutes of restless tossing and turning, you had sprung from your bed and rang Jungkook. You didn’t want to stare at your bedroom walls anymore. You hadn’t seen him much today either—had only seen him at lunch since he had his own classes to attend and was playing catch-up with his homework. You figured he was out doing his usual Spidey duties despite it being half past midnight. Judging by the windy feedback that came from the other end when he answered, your suspicion was confirmed.

As you neared the rooftop, you glanced up. A familiar figure stood at the top of the ladder with their hand stretched out. You grabbed it and held it tightly as you were pulled up effortlessly.

The roof was flat and belonged to a deserted commercial building. In spite of it being in the middle of construction, it was nearly finished so you weren’t too worried about it collapsing. The road beneath wasn’t any livelier—enough cars to offer the buzz of passing vehicles, but not so much to be the dominant sound in the area. From this height, they appeared to be toy cars children would play with. You could imagine kids with controllers guiding their cars through a makeshift track. Albeit a lot more organized.

The first thing you saw when your feet touched the ground were two white teardrop shapes. The familiarity brought a wave of comfort washing over you.

“I feel like I should be asking for your autograph,” you teased the hero before you.

Spider-Man chuckled, using your hand that was still grasped in his to bring you closer. He removed his mask with his other hand and shined a playful smile in your direction. His hair was tousled and unkempt due to being squashed beneath the mask. He looked cute.

“I’ll give you one,” Jungkook replied and carefully tucked his mask into the waistband of your jeans. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and you peered up at him with a faint grin.

“How much do you think I could make off of it?”

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up, the corner of his lip twitching as he tried to suppress a smirk.

“You won’t be able to make anything off of it,” he answered and lowered his head.

“I beg to differ,” you snickered. “I saw people trying to sell pieces of your webs you leave behind for a hefty amount.”

“Gross,” he murmured before resting his forehead against yours.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement. Before you could change topics, Jungkook spoke again.

“What I meant was, you won’t be able to make anything off it because it won’t be tangible.”

Confused, you started to move back to look at him, but Jungkook kept you close.

“What do you-”

Without warning, Jungkook surprised you by pressing his lips upon yours. The kiss was gentle and had you relaxing in his arms. Even though being kissed by Jungkook was nothing new to you, his kisses always had your brain short-circuit.

Jungkook moved away too soon, but only to connect his lips to your neck. Your mouth fell open as your breathing intensified under his touch, his lips kissing just beneath your jaw. Despite the unexpected action, your body reacted quickly. You tangled a hand in his locks when he nipped at your cool skin. The breezes that tangled your hair caused goosebumps to rise across your arms and you cuddled closer to his body for warmth.

After a few more kisses, you felt his tongue glide across your neck. His movements were slow; he took his time to trace patterns on your skin while he gently massaged the sides of your body.

The light motions of his hands combined with the languid glides of his tongue had you squirming. You bit your lower lip to suppress your giggles from the sensations.

Jungkook grinned against your skin at your reaction and dug his fingers into your waist to keep you from escaping his grasp. Instead of pulling away after a moment, he opted for kissing toward your ear.

“That was a one-of-a-kind autograph. Only for you, baby,” he whispered, his breath tickling at your skin.

Your eyes opened suddenly when you realized he had spelled his name on your neck with his tongue.

Jungkook withdrew from you and laughed at the startled expression settled on your face. His eyes lingered on the sheepish look since he found it amusing.

Though at his laugh, you hastily composed yourself again.

“T-thank you?” you said, unsure what to say, yet you were weak at the knees from his actions. It always felt good to be reminded you were his.

Jungkook responded by pecking your cheek.

“’Course. How was your day?” he asked, hands still palming your sides absentmindedly.

“Dull,” you sighed. You reached up to tuck a strand of hair from his face that was blown by the wind. “Was yours good?”

Jungkook shrugged. “It wasn’t bad. The night’s kind of slow tonight, too.”

You stayed silent as your gaze danced across his face, admiring his soft features that were lit by the moonlight. His dark eyes bore into yours, lips tugged in a small smile. He tilted his head as he got lost in his own thoughts. Although he was looking at you, he wasn’t truly seeing you. The hand that had trailed up to his hair earlier slowly started to twist a few strands between your fingers.

Your eyes began to trail downward. His red and blue suit stretched snuggly around his toned frame. As if hypnotized, the hand playing with his hair slid down to his chest, touching his firm muscles from over the fabric. It put you at ease from the known feeling.

His breathing became irregular when he felt your hands trace the intricate patterns of his suit. You were grateful you were able to feel the unique spandex material in comparison to the cheap counterfeits being sold.

When your hands traveled lower, he drew in a sharp breath. His kneading on your body stopped.

“Is this why you called to ask where I was?” His tone was playful though a little strained. He tried to keep his heart rate steady so as to not be affected by your wandering hands. “You knew I was on patrol.”

“I had a feeling,” you admitted softly, flickering your gaze up to meet his own but continuing your hand south.

“I’m supposed to be looking for bad guys,” Jungkook attempted to regain his sense of control. “You’ve already distracted me enough.”

“You said tonight was a slow one,” you said and stopped your hand from going past his pelvis.

“Y-yes, but I should still keep an eye out.”

You gave him a teasing smile and gradually pulled away from him, watching him closely as he released a deep breath with a faintest frown. His hands fell to his sides.

“Are you sleepy?” Jungkook asked, changing the topic abruptly while his fingers tapped against the top of his thighs. You weren’t sure if he was anxious, excited, or nervous about something.

“No. Are you?” you replied suspiciously. His question was innocent, yet you had a feeling he asked for a reason.

Jungkook shook his head at the question then glanced around the rooftop. You followed his gaze and looked to the right to see a higher part of the building. The roof had two levels.

“Wait here for a second,” he instructed. With speed, he began to fire webs that connected from the wall to the rooftop’s floor.

You watched in puzzlement for a few seconds before you realized what he was doing.

It was odd to see your boyfriend spin his own web, yet it was fascinating nonetheless. He’s never done this in front of you. However, you figured by his deft hands, he had done this before. Watching him, you became grateful his webs didn’t shoot out of his ass. What if he farted and—?! Alright, brain. That’s enough. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to see that. Just the image made you giggle and cringe simultaneously.

“Bet you could catch a lot of flies with that,” you mused, attention focused on him again instead of your questionable thoughts.

Jungkook glanced your way and paused, a knowing grin on his lips. “I’m planning to catch something else.”

“Yeah?” you wondered playfully.

Jungkook hummed as he finished what he was up to. The web wasn’t anything special in terms of design. It appeared to be like any other web, but larger—as if looking through a magnifying glass. You wondered if it would stick to your fingertips and collapse like the ones at home.

Jungkook walked down from the top, strangely balancing—or not so considering his powers—on the slanted material.

“Alright. Come here, baby,” he called for you. He stood near the edge of the web, hand stretched out as he waited for you to join him.

You shuffled your feet, uncertain if going on the web was the best choice. Sure, Jungkook was standing perfectly fine on it, but was it really robust enough to handle the both of you?

“Any slower and I’m going to pull you here,” he complained.

“My pace hasn’t stopped you before,” you huffed, all movements halted.

Jungkook laughed lightly and shook his hand in hopes it’d get you to come quicker, “Yeah, but I’m trying to be a gentleman this time.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to be as stable as you on that, Koo,” you said. Your steps were small and hesitant.

“Don’t worry. I got you,” he reassured.

You took a deep breath as you placed your hand in his. The first step was scary, and you held onto Jungkook’s hand with a deadly grip. The web dipped slightly at your weight but stayed taut for the most part. The strength of it surprised you. You knew Jungkook’s webs were not easy to break but relying on them for flooring and being tangled up with them were different.

“There you go,” Jungkook smiled as he led you to the center carefully. Similar to a real spider’s web, it was slightly sticky, and you had to tug your legs up a little harder than normal to walk. You wondered if you ran and jumped on the web if you would stick to it like a fly. Though, you had a gut feeling Jungkook had already tested that theory in the past.

Jungkook guided you to sit down, slinging an arm over your shoulder and resting his head against yours. The warmth from his body felt comforting in the chilly night and it reminded you how thankful you were to simply be able to snuggle against him. You wondered how long you could stay like this without interruptions.

“Is college what you expect it to be like?” Jungkook asked, voice soft and blending with the breezes.

“Sort of,” you shrugged. “Lots of studying and sorority parties I never attend.”

He chuckled, laying back against the web. One leg was bent and his arms outstretched. You followed his lead. Your head rested against his arm, and you pressed your side against his. You both stared up at the starless sky. It was a shame the city lights were concealing the twinkling stars.

“Except the one,” Jungkook argued teasingly, recalling that night’s events after the Halloween party.

A faint blush crept on your cheeks and Jungkook patted your head blithely.

“How’s Aunt May?” You tried to change the subject.

Jungkook let it slide and answered, “She had her first baking class last weekend. She said she really liked it and plans to make me her taste-tester.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky,” you replied and glanced at him. His face scrunched up briefly. “Why that face? You’re getting free desserts!”

“Did you not hear when I said it was her first class? Plus, I fear I may lose my amazing physique if she feeds me everything she tries to bake.” Jungkook’s tone was light, but you knew there was some truth behind his words.

You laughed and you sat up to look down at him. He had moved his other hand to be tucked under his head sometime during your conversation. He looked so peaceful lying on his web in the middle of the night. Even when his lips were in a tight smile, he still made your heart race.

“Hey, don’t underestimate Aunt May’s skills. She could be a prodigy when it comes to baking. And just bring the food to class. Students love free food.”

“Ah, you’re so smart,” he said and gently tugged you back down with one hand. You tucked your body against his side, one leg draping itself over his straightened limb. Jungkook raised his head slightly to look down at you with an adoring expression. He just wanted to be close to you while he could. He was enjoying the calm night. It wasn’t every day he could have these moments with you.

“Someone has to be,” you kid.

“Yah! Jagiya,” he whined and threw his head back against the web. The wind blew some of his hair into his face, but Jungkook didn’t bother with moving the strands. He let them sway in the breeze.

“Truth hurts, huh, Koo?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and hugged your body.

“You’re being a brat,” Jungkook huffed.

You giggled, enjoying the light bickering. “I’m sorry.”

You tilted your head with a pout, placed a hand on his chest, and tapped your fingers in a rhythm to get his attention.

“Kookie,” you said, voice slightly higher than normal when he didn’t look at you. Jungkook didn’t budge. He stubbornly kept his gaze locked on the dark sky.

Sighing, you leaned up and squished his cheeks with your hand. His lips pursed involuntarily at the act and a whine of protest left him. He shook his head, but there wasn’t enough force to actually break away.

“Do you forgive me?” you asked.

After a few seconds of silence, you pecked his pouty lips.

“I think you’re very smart,” you complimented and gave him another quick kiss.

“And funny,” you continued, accompanied by a third kiss. “And caring. And handsome. And sexy. And cute. And the best boyfriend in the wor- Hmph!”

Jungkook had stayed still as you showered him with compliments. He tried to suppress the smile forming with each kiss you placed on his lips. His heart was beating faster the more attention you gave him.

Hearing enough, he quickly leaned up and smashed his lips against yours, hand tangling in your hair to stop you from pulling away.

Your hand on his face eased as your eyes fluttered shut when he started to move his mouth.

Jungkook pressed you flushed to his body. His legs wrapped around yours as he kept you in his tight grip.

With a gasp, you receded from the kiss.

“Is that a yes?” you questioned breathlessly.

“No,” he replied, chest heaving slightly. “I just wanted you to shut up.”

“Jungk-”

He tugged your head back down and connected your lips once more. This time, you successfully moved from him.

“Now who’s being the brat?” you huffed.

Jungkook laughed, lips a little swollen and eyes filled with love and lust. He reduced his grip on you and let his legs sprawl beneath your body.

You adjusted yourself so you were straddling him. His hands came up to rub your thighs, eyes following you as you leaned over him. You carefully pushed all his hair out of his face as Jungkook stared at you quietly.

The quietness was tranquil and neither of you felt the need to fill it. Perhaps with someone else, it might have been awkward. You might have fidgeted under the silence or tried to ask generic questions to fill the space. Though with Jungkook it was different. Being in his presence was all you needed to feel content.

Jungkook studied you. It was harder to see your face as your back was against the sky, the moonlight not having a way to illuminate your features. Despite this, he knew your face was in its most relaxed state. Your movements were unrushed and gentle, indicating how serene you felt. Even if he couldn’t see your face clearly, your eyes sparkled in the darkness that had him mesmerized by your beauty. He couldn’t see the stars in the sky, but he only needed you to be the light in his life.

“You’re pretty,” you whispered as you slowly moved the last few strands from his face.

Jungkook was drawn from his thoughts by your comment.

“I know you are,” he said with a cheesy grin.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook gripped your thighs firmly with a shake of his head. You shut your mouth with a pout, not in the mood to disagree anymore.

Jungkook let out a small laugh at your expression and wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you on him again.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” he whispered. His lips ghosted yours as he pushed the hair that fell into your face. He held his hand in your hair and stroked the side of your face with his thumb tenderly.

Your heartbeat quickened with each second that passed by with Jungkook staring at you. Your faces were so close, yet no one made a move.

“May I keep you out a little longer?” Jungkook asked kindly.

You nodded, a smile on your lips. Although you had class tomorrow, you didn’t want to leave Jungkook’s embrace.

“You may.”

Jungkook wasted no more time and kissed you for the umpteenth time that night. Though, you could never get enough of his kisses as they always had you feeling giddy.

He moved his lips languidly against yours, tracing your lower lip with his tongue slowly so as to soak up this moment like a sponge. He wanted to remember the taste of your lips, the feel of your skin under his hands, the weight of your body on his.

His tongue met yours and he crept his hands down your sides following the curve of your body, loving the way your legs squeezed his waist at the feel of his hands roaming your hips.

Your hair fell around his face and Jungkook could feel a few strands tickling his cheeks, but he didn’t care to move them.

Jungkook’s hands slid up to grab your ass. He gripped it roughly, which caused you to press your lower half over his.

You inhaled sharply when Jungkook did it again.

One of your hands caressed the side of his face while the other trailed up and down his torso. You could feel every bump and curve of his toned body due to the tight spandex of his suit. You pressed your body harder against his to feel more of him. There was always something so attractive when he donned his suit. You rolled your hips at the thought of having the hero beneath you all to yourself.

“You remember what you said to me that night of the party?” Jungkook questioned between breaths when you both broke away from the heated kiss.

You gave him a puzzled look, mind going blank momentarily as you lifted yourself to see him better.

Jungkook smirked and answered for you, “You said I looked sexy in my suit.”

You glanced away from him meekly. Not only did you think it now, but you also thought it then too. As if Jungkook could read your mind, he continued.

“Do you think I look sexy in it now?”

Jungkook already knew the response from the way you tucked your chin to your chest. He just wanted you to admit it verbally. Gently, he moved your face, so you were looking at him again. He waited for your answer.

Reluctantly, because you knew it was what he wanted to hear, you answered, “Yes.”

“You wanted me to fuck you with my suit on,” he recalled with a sinister smile and slid his hand back to rest on your ass. “And I sort of did then, but it didn’t really satisfy your idea, right, baby?”

You stared down at him with rapt attention, hands pressed on his chest. You remembered how his attire had been around his thighs, which only had exposed his torso. He was right in that it didn’t give the same effect as when it covered him completely. The more you thought of him fully dressed having his way with you, the more you could feel your panties dampening.

“Speak to me,” he encouraged, a hand lightly tapping your ass to get your attention.

“Yes, I remember. You’re right,” you replied hurriedly.

“What if I told you I wore a different suit today?” he wondered aloud. “You still want me to fulfill that dream of yours?”

For some reason, you were suddenly shy. You wanted it, yes, but you felt a little ashamed of the thought. You were sure Jungkook had made the suit tight so he could maneuver easily, not to be ogled at. Yet here you were. The idea of him being fully suited up and making you a moaning mess was tempting.

“I- I don’t know,” you murmured and averted your gaze.

“Why so shy?” he asked, voice softer than before.

“I feel I shouldn’t want to,” you trailed off.

“But I want to,” Jungkook reassured and put emphasis on himself. “I want to fuck you in my suit.”

“B-but you wear this to be a hero,” you began to argue, peering at the material, “not to satisfy some fantasy of mine.”

Jungkook shook his head and moved your head to look at him. “What if you weren’t the only one with that fantasy?”

You pressed your lips together, unsure if he was just saying that. Not only were you still hesitant, you now felt bad for ruining the mood. Your shoulders slumped at the realization.

“I’m not just Spider-Man in this suit. I’m Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend, and you helped me see that,” he continued to try to erase your doubts when he saw your shoulders sag.

You listened to him silently.

“Plus, you’re telling me heroes can’t have a little fun?” His light tone etched away a sliver of your uncertainty. “Don’t feel guilty for how you feel. You’re not the only one who thinks I look ‘hotter than ghost peppers’ in my suit.”

Your eyes widened at his reply, not anticipating hearing such a comment. Jungkook chuckled at your reaction.

“My favorite from last week was being told I was ‘so hot even milk can't wash it down’.”

You shook your head with a smile and a small laugh–a mixture of disbelief and amusement. His words made you feel better.

“People have an interesting way with words online,” he shrugged as if he was used to it. He probably was at this point in his hero career.

“So, what do you say?” Jungkook asked and raised a hand to graze your lower lip with his thumb. His eyes dropped down briefly to watch the way your mouth parted when he rubbed your lip delicately. “Will you help your boyfriend pass some time while he’s on patrol?”

“I thought you were supposed to be looking out for criminals,” you huffed teasingly when you recalled his earlier replies. You were grateful Jungkook was there to lift your spirit back up.

To him, he wasn’t bothered by your hesitancy. He was just happy to talk you through the little speed bump. The mood was never ruined.

“I am,” he retorted and removed his hand from your face. “I already got one.”

A gasp left your lips when a hand came down on your ass abruptly, your fingertips digging into his chest in response.

“I’m not a criminal,” you scoffed when you realized the action implied he had deemed you as one. “What crime did I commit?”

“You stole my heart. I say that’s quite a big crime.”

You blinked at him dumbfoundedly.

“You did not just-”

“You have the right to remain silent-”

“You’re not a police officer.”

Jungkook exhaled dramatically, “You gotta work on your roleplay skills, babe.”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him. Jungkook laughed, visibly proud of his comment.

“Didn’t know you were into that,” you mused.

Jungkook shrugged. “Never tried, but I’m not going to say no if you wanted to try it.”

Even though his tone was light, you could tell from the way his eyes widened out of curiosity that he was being serious.

“Maybe in the future,” you suggested and leaned down.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said before your lips met his.

Jungkook squeezed your ass, pressing your hips to his more.

Your hips began to slowly circle as the kiss deepened, tongues tangling against each other. You suppressed the moans bubbling in your throat every time your clit caught friction. You felt the bulge underneath you growing with each swivel of your hips and it had your heart pumping quicker.

Jungkook’s hands moved from your ass to your hips, guiding their movements while pushing his own up to meet your body more. You moaned into his mouth at the rougher feeling.

Jungkook pulled away with a sharp inhale, chocolate eyes dark with lust.

“Mask on or off?” Jungkook panted.

As much as you loved seeing his handsome face, you wanted to try something different.

“On.”

Jungkook smirked and plucked his mask from your jean’s waistline.

“Other people would love to be in my position,” you thought out loud as you eyed him retrieving his mask. Although you didn’t mean to gloat, a part of you did feel a little ego boost at the statement.

“Don’t wanna think of other people,” Jungkook said. “Just wanna think of you, baby. Just you. Only you. This is only for you.”

Your heart warmed at his rambling, and you captured his lips with yours tenderly, both hands cradling the sides of his face as if he was your anchor in a restless ocean.

“For us,” you corrected into the kiss.

Jungkook smiled, giving you an extra peck on the lips after you moved away.

You rubbed his chest lightly as he pushed his hair back off his forehead before tugging the mask over his head. Being unable to see his face had a strange feeling bubbling in your chest. Here was the hero you often saw on the screens. He was untouchable to many, yet he was laying beneath you.

Though this was not your first time being with him with his mask on, knowing what was to come had your heart racing for a different reason and it excited you. Maybe it was the idea that no one but you were able to have Spider-Man like this—to have Jungkook like this—or maybe you were anxious to try something new with him. Whatever the reason, you suddenly felt your body grow warmer.

“Hi, Spidey,” you teased with a smile once the mask was secured on him.

Jungkook chuckled at your casual tone and transferred his hands to your waist.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he replied whilst he kneaded your hips softly. “’M can’t wait to see you fall apart for me.”

Your cheeks heated at his comment. You leaned down, giving him a kiss through his mask. Despite not being able to directly feel his lips upon yours, the thought was there at least. Your hands traveled between his legs when you gave him a quick kiss.

Jungkook sighed at the feel of your hand on top of his hardening cock.

You palmed him above his clothing, eyes casting down to outline his hard-on. The soft touches had Jungkook tightening his grip on your hips.

Not wanting to have all the attention, Jungkook glided his hands up your chest until he cupped your breasts through your shirt. He massaged them gently, causing you to arch your back into his soothing touches.

Your hand on his crotch pressed harder against him. Jungkook shuddered at the pressure.

“Take these off for me,” Jungkook murmured and tugged on one of your belt loops.

You nodded and carefully climbed off him to remove your jeans, forgetting you were on top of the web Jungkook spun earlier.

“Is this going to, uh, hold us?” you questioned, feeling unsure how to bring up the topic without feeling a little strange. Because who would have thought you would fuck your boyfriend on top of a giant web?

“Definitely,” he said confidently and leaned up on one elbow. He patted the web as if to show its sturdiness. “We can go as wild as we want.”

There was cockiness to his tone as he raised his eyebrows up with a crooked grin. He was definitely already prepared to have you sore tomorrow.

Another blush crept on your face at his words. “How ‘wild’ are you imagining, Koo?”

Jungkook hummed as if in thought. He gestured for you to climb back on him, and you did as he answered, “Until you’re fucked dumb and whining for my cock.”

“Jungkook,” you gasped at his choice of words. Really, you don’t know why you were taken aback. His vocabulary has always been more vulgar when he was consumed with lust. It was different from his usual easy-going, joking behavior. Perhaps it was because you hadn’t heard him speak to you like this in a while. With your schedules, you hadn’t had the chance to have an intimate moment with him.

“I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll be craving my dick for days,” he continued, just to watch you become more flustered.

Jungkook laughed at your bashful expression. He slid a hand between your legs and began to circle your clit through your panties.

“Don’t you want that, baby?” he cooed and increased his speed. Your hips jolted at the sensation, and you placed your hands on his chest with a small moan.

“To be so needy for my cock that you can’t think of anything else?”

His words had your panties getting wetter. The thought had your heart racing, and you nodded your head at his question.

Jungkook smiled beneath his mask and moved his finger to rub through your folds. A smirk formed when he felt your damp panties. Your hips started to grind against his fingers, needing to feel more of his sinful touches.

Jungkook kept the same pace for a little longer, watching as your hips got more frantic as you grew more desperate.

“Need more,” you whined and started to reach down to lead his fingers where you wanted him, but Jungkook grabbed your wrist instead.

“Did you miss my cock so much that you forgot your manners?” Jungkook scolded, not truly mad with you.

“Please,” you said unhesitant. “Give me more.”

“I just want you to beg until you can’t take it anymore,” Jungkook confessed, which had your eyes widening. “But I’ve already kept you out so late that I’ll have to do that another time.”

You felt your body relax at that, not having the patience to have him deny you longer. He hasn’t done much, yet you were eager to feel him for the first time in a while.

Jungkook watched you for a moment as he took in your relieved expression. “I’m just too nice to you, huh?” He chuckled lowly but didn’t let you reply.

Jungkook pushed aside your panties and eased one finger inside. You were wet enough from his previous actions that his fingers slid in with no resistance, making Jungkook groan.

He pumped his finger steadily and it wasn’t long before he quickly added another one. The slight stretch from it had your inhaling deeply. His slow motions had you wanting more, but you stayed still as you let him continue. You had missed his touch.

Jungkook slowed his pace, almost coming to a complete stop as he gently spread his fingers. You gasped at the feeling and pressed your thighs against his body. A hand came down and wrapped itself around his wrist. You didn’t adjust his hand but just gave it a squeeze to let him know how good it felt.

Jungkook’s lip quirked in a small smile at you. He pressed his fingers together, pumped them a few times, then spread his fingers again. His actions repeated at the same unhurried pace. While it felt pleasing, it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. However, before you could request more, Jungkook retreated. You keened at the loss of his touch.

He ignored your cry and pushed the lower half of his suit down. Normally, his attire was a one-piece, but this one was different. He had several outfits he had experimented with, all with different designs.

“Think you can take over?” Jungkook questioned as he exposed his hard cock. He wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and tightened his grip. His lips parted at the feeling.

Your eyes glanced down, walls clenching around nothing when you saw his precum leaking from his tip.

You nodded and started to adjust your position, but Jungkook interrupted you.

“Where’s that sweet voice of yours, baby?”

“Yes,” you verbally answered; it earned you a content nod from Jungkook.

“Come on then, need to feel you around me,” he groaned, dick throbbing with need.

You obeyed and moved so you were hovering over his tip.

Jungkook rubbed his tip through your slicken folds, smearing his precum along them. His lips were parted; his eyes focused on how easy it was to do so. After a few more glides, he aligned himself and bucked his hips slightly until he pushed the head of his cock inside your soaked pussy.

A small yelp escaped your lips at the stretch. Understanding the message, you sank down slowly, both your moans ringing out in unison at the feeling of each other.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed beneath you. His eyebrows were furrowed together.

Without wasting another second, you began to slide up until just his tip remained before sliding back down gradually with another moan.

Jungkook had his hands resting on your waist, trying not to force your hips down faster.

“Y-you’re big,” you gasped with your eyes closed. Your head was starting to cloud with the pleasure his cock was giving you.

“Thanks, cutie,” Jungkook said playfully through a breathy laugh. His voice sounded a little stiff as he tried to keep his moans at bay so that he could hear yours better.

His tone tore you from your haze for a moment and you hit his chest half-heartedly. Jungkook laughed and rubbed your waist, unaffected by the faux scolding.

“Love the way you fit around me,” Jungkook added and thrusted up harshly once. He told himself to let you set the pace, but he couldn’t help it. You were just so tight around him.

“Ah!” you gasped at his sudden movement. Jungkook smirked at your reaction.

At his action, you increased your speed. You sank up and down his cock faster and you threw your head back at the way he filled you so blissfully. Your arms were behind you, fingertips grazing the top of Jungkook’s thighs as you bounced with vigor.

Jungkook bent his knees slightly so you could grab his thighs better for support. Once you had a solid hold, you started to rock your hips quicker.

Jungkook reached up and dragged your shirt up until it was gathered at the top of your chest. He pushed your bra up as well, tucking your shirt under the bra’s seam so it stayed put. With your breasts exposed, Jungkook greedily stared at the way they bounced with each of your movements.

Seeing you on top with your back arched slightly from the position of your arms and breasts moving had him let out a curse. He needed to release this pent-up feeling in his chest.

Without notice, Jungkook halted your hips and flipped you over. You both bounced slightly with the action and for a moment, you worried the web was going to snap. However, the thought disappeared when Jungkook forced your hands above your head.

You stared at him above you, eyes glued to the two oval shapes in his mask.

“I would turn you over so I could see that pretty ass of yours, but I know my baby girl wants to see me. Am I right?” he crooned.

“Y-yes,” you agreed.

“Since you wanted me fully suited as I fuck you, I think it’s only right for me to do this,” he trailed off. You realized what he meant a little too late. He had already adhered your wrists to the web below.

Jungkook grabbed your ankles next, pulling your legs apart then webbing them as well. He had you sprawled on top of his web, and he couldn’t feel more proud of himself. Here you were—exposed and leaking with arousal in front of him, unable to move.

“Don’t you look divine right now,” he praised arrogantly. His eyes traveled every inch of your body, and you were incapable of shielding yourself from his greedy eyes.

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you still knew the facial expression he was sporting underneath the mask and the thought had you squirming. You had never been this restrained in such an intimate moment with him, but your trust in him didn’t make you nervous. Instead, you just felt your body heat rapidly.

“Caught in my web,” he whispered as if in wonder at the beautiful sight. One of his hands raked down your body, tweaking one of your nipples before moving to the inside of your thigh. “Just ready for me to use you.”

“Please,” you begged.

“Would you like that?” he asked, low and husky.

“Yes, Jungkook,” you answered truthfully. “Want you to fuck me dumb.”

Jungkook smiled and positioned himself, so he was hovering over you, his tip resting at your entrance.

“That, I can do,” he chuckled.

He eased into you again. The snug feeling around his cock had him clutching the webbing next to your head.

Jungkook didn’t stay nestled against you for long. His pace wasn’t as fast as he could go, but he’d rather use his strength than his speed at the moment.

You moaned loudly, staring up at your boyfriend with his famous red and blue mask. Although you probably had forgotten you weren’t in the privacy of four walls, Jungkook didn’t.

He felt he should’ve told you to be quieter, but he really didn’t want to. He loved the sounds you were making, knowing he was the one causing them. He pushed away the concern he had briefly and gave you a particular rough thrust which earned him a heavenly cry from your lips. It was as if he was challenging the universe for someone to hear you.

Your body was pushed up with each shove of his hips. However, since you were tied down, you didn’t actually move much.

“Look at you,” Jungkook rasped and glanced down at where you were both connected. He could feel your walls clench around him and he groaned. “Letting me take you however I want.”

The more he pondered on that, the faster his pace got.

“Shit, you look so pretty,” he hissed. He grabbed your bouncing breasts, squeezing them as he slammed his hips against yours. The hold on your breasts was slightly painful, but the feeling between your legs was too delightful to notice for long.

“You feel s-so good, Kookie,” you stammered through gasps. Your hands were balled into fists, wanting to touch him but not having the ability to do so.

Jungkook moved his hands from your breasts so he could grip your hips. He leaned back slightly and guided your hips to his while he thrusted forward.

Your back arched, head pushing onto the web at the new feeling. You could feel him slide against the spot that had you seeing stars.

Jungkook’s eyes were gazing from your open mouth to your bouncing breasts then to where he was pounding into you. He couldn’t decide where to look as he fucked into you.

A part of him wished he could take a picture of how captivating you looked right now. The egotistical side of him wanted to show it to his friends—to brag about how well he could fuck you. How good you were to him to let him use your body for his pleasures. You were his good girl. And as much as he wanted to indulge in his own selfish pleasures longer, he remembered that you needed to be spoiled too.

Jungkook adjusted himself so he was hovering over you again. He lifted his mask just above his nose and slotted his mouth on your right nipple while a hand massaged your left breast. The feeling of his warm tongue circling the nub had you whining his name and clenching around him again.

Jungkook hummed, happy to hear how much you were enjoying his mouth on you.

You tugged on the restraints. You just wanted to rip off his mask and tangle your fingers in his locks like you usually do.

Jungkook flickered his tongue over your hardened nipple before nipping at it. The action had you gasping and pushing your chest to his face. Jungkook smiled against your skin before finding your other nipple and repeating the motions. The saliva left by Jungkook’s mouth was cooling in the chilly air, hardening your nipple.

While he was playing with your breasts, he kept up the rocking of his hips. The feeling of his big cock rubbing against your walls combined with his tongue had you near your climax.

“Jungko- Baby I-” you babbled, trying to form a full sentence. “Close,” you ended up saying instead.

“Go on, pretty girl. Come around me,” he permitted and briskly moved away from your chest. He tugged the mask down again before getting into a stable position. Without warning, he pulled out and thrusted back in harshly.

You cried, eyebrows knitting together as your body jerked upward from his force.

Jungkook stared down at you intensely, focused on getting you to come. His force was brute, no longer slow like before. Suddenly his hands were back on your breasts again.

Each slap of his hips had you trudging closer to the edge. Your eyes were half-lidded, mouth hung open as you breathed heavily. Your mind was only focused on him—the rocking of his dick in your cunt, the pleasure of his hands on your chest, and the sound of his bated breathing.

“There’s that fucked out look I wanted,” he jested through pants, but you barely registered his words through your hazy pleasure.

“Just for me,” he said. “Only I can see that look, right, jagiya?”

You whined, the energy to reply barely there. For once, Jungkook didn’t require an answer. He knew your thoughts were too occupied just by the expressions on your face.

Jungkook felt your walls tense up, sucking him back in greedily. After a few more thrusts, you came with a loud cry of his name. Your legs seized at the force of your orgasm while his name fell off your tongue like a mantra. Jungkook loved every moment of it, hearing the way you said his name so breathlessly was music to his ears.

He basked in the glory he felt at having you unravel because of him.

“Want to see your pretty mouth filled with my cum,” he husked and pulled away from your cunt.

He straddled your face and sunk his cock between your lips hurriedly.

You eagerly hallowed your mouth, bobbing your head around his heavy cock. Jungkook moaned watching you suck him off so earnestly.

“That’s it,” he praised, breathing increasing with each glide of your mouth.

“I’m close,” he murmured and slotted his fingers in your hair.

Your eyes locked on his mask, groaning around his dick at seeing the hero above you.

Jungkook tilted his head back briefly when he felt your tongue run just beneath his head, where his tip meets his shaft.

“Oh, fuck,” he shuddered. “Should have you suck my cock more.”

You hummed in satisfaction at his words, which caused Jungkook to tighten his grip on your hair at the sensation. The vibrations from your throat pushed him closer to his release.

Soon, Jungkook was emptying his load in your mouth. His hand was fisted in your hair as he pushed his hips to your face fully. His cock slid down your throat and you gagged slightly at the sudden feeling. Jungkook found the sound arousing, letting another curse fall from his lips.

He withdrew from you, some of his cum still spilling from his cock. You quickly inhaled a breath before sticking your tongue out again. Jungkook rested his tip on it and pumped his shaft, head lolling to the side as he panted. His cum landed on your tongue and Jungkook’s gaze was glued to the sight. He loved seeing you dripping with his cum—whether it be in your cunt or in your mouth.

Jungkook slid his tip into the cum pooling on your tongue before running his tip along your upper lip, painting it white.

When you felt Jungkook nudge your jaw, you swallowed.

His gaze lingered on his cum on your lip. However, the sight was soon gone when you swiped your tongue over it.

Jungkook wanted to stay over you as he caught his breath, but he knew you were probably uncomfortable, so he carefully moved off of you. With one hand, he yanked his mask off to reveal his face. His forehead was beaded in sweat while some of his hair stuck to his forehead.

“You still carry that pocketknife with you?” he asked. He knew you had carried one for protection after everything that happened with Kangdae and Seokjin. He wasn’t too happy about it initially since he didn’t want you to be in any fights, but after your constant refusals, he relented. After all, he rather you be able to protect yourself if he couldn’t be there to protect you.

“Back pocket,” you said and nodded to your discarded jeans.

Instead of Jungkook getting up to grab them like you thought he would, he simply shot a web and brought them to him.

“Thought the webs were sturdy,” you joked, voice a little hoarse. “How can a tiny pocketknife cut it?”

“It’s not as easy as you may think,” he replied and switched it open. He began to meticulously saw at the webs around your wrists.

“Doesn’t this mean any criminal can just cut through your webs?”

“If they have the time and strength, yes. My webs aren’t invincible,” he answered calmly, not irritated with your curiosity. “Hence, why I try to web their arms down. And normally, one swipe of the web won’t break through it. They’ll be in handcuffs before they can free themselves.”

“We’re going to be here for a while, huh?” you sighed, the euphoric feeling ebbing away at the idea of being exposed to the icy weather longer.

Jungkook glanced at your almost-naked body as if reading your mind. Sheepishly, he gently adjusted your bra and shirt to cover your torso. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about your lower half since he had webbed you at the ankles.

“Maybe start there instead?” you suggested when you saw him glance at your legs.

Jungkook nodded and followed your advice.

The wait for Jungkook to free you didn’t last as long as you had expected. He had made sure to pay extra attention to where he slid the knife, and you were freed without a scratch. He then helped you put on the rest of your clothes.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly as he sat next to you, rubbing at your wrists and ankles while you both regained some energy.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you replied and gave him a kind smile that had his heart melting.

“Have you thought about what I asked you a few weeks ago?” he wondered, hope lingering in his voice.

Jungkook had come to your dorm one day, seemingly nervous about something. You had worried it had to do with him being the masked hero or maybe even Aunt may. Your roommate had left the dorm to give you both space, sensing the uneasy atmosphere. Turns out, he had spent a few weeks looking at apartments for you both and had scribbled a few down he thought you might like. With the end of the year approaching, it was time to move out of your dorm as they were mainly for freshmen. You could move into a different dormitory, but it would be nicer not to. However, you hadn’t looked anywhere yet.

You were pleasantly surprised at Jungkook’s research. You were so touched by his efforts that he earned himself several kisses that day.

“I did,” you answered. “I like the one that has all those trees. They had a nice floor plan, and the price is doable if we split the cost.”

Jungkook’s mouth widened into a big grin as you spoke.

“I liked that one, too,” he concurred.

“Should I make an appointment to go look at it?”

“Yeah. That sounds good to me.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook leaned forward and pressed his lips tenderly on yours. You giggled at his reaction.

“I didn’t think you’d be this excited to look at apartments,” you said and poked his cheek.

“I’m more excited to just see you more often,” he admitted. “Plus, Yoongi’s music distracts me sometimes.”

“You think I won’t distract you?” you asked playfully.

“Oh, you definitely will,” he murmured, eyes drifting to your lips momentarily. “But at least you’d be a fun distraction. Yoongi’s an old man trapped in a young body. Full of grunts and complaints.”

You laughed, nudging him to scold him.

“Imagine how hurt he’d be if he heard you say that.”

Jungkook swatted his hand in the air, pushing away the thought. “He’d probably be glad to get rid of me.”

“How so?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Too many Code Purples,” he explained and gave you a wink.

You scoffed at him, remembering how Code Purple was what he told Yoongi when he wanted alone time with you.

“I haven’t heard you use it that often,” you said. Jungkook halted his massaging on your wrists when you interlaced your fingers together.

“That’s because I do it before you come over,” he explained, leaning closer to your face with a charming smile and a few wiggles of his eyebrows.

You giggled and squeezed his hands. “That poor man.”

“I should just be blaming you for being too irresistible,” Jungkook replied.

“Alright, Casanova,” you joked with a smile. He simply pecked your lips in response.

After a moment of silence, you wondered out loud, “Do you know if Yoongi is staying on campus if you move?”

Jungkook rubbed small circles on the back of your thumb with his own.

“Actually, I overheard him talking with Hoseok. I think they’re going to try to room together off campus. Maybe I can get Yoongi to move into the same complex as us.”

“That would be nice,” you said happily. You liked the thought of having your privacy with Jungkook, but still being able to be near your friends.

Jungkook hummed, his mood not as cheerful as before. You tilted your head in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he replied dismissively.

“Hey, you can talk to me,” you reassured and shook his hands.

“I know,” he said and offered you a small smile. However, he still didn’t give an explanation.

You searched his face, recalling what was said before he looked upset. And then it clicked.

“It’s Hobi, isn’t it?”

At the way his shoulders tensed slightly, you knew you were right.

“He isn’t bad, Koo,” you frowned.

Jungkook didn’t have a favorable opinion of Hoseok since he found he was involved in that group with you. Despite Hoseok helping you both out in the end, Jungkook couldn’t shake the dislike he felt toward the man. You, on the other hand, were still friends with him. Much to Jungkook’s disapproval.

“I just don’t trust him,” Jungkook huffed and looked away from you.

“You’re not going to trust him if you keep glaring at him every time he’s within a ten-foot radius of you.”

“It happens involuntarily,” he grumbled, shoulders slumping. You wished you didn’t find him so cute when he pouted.

“Well, maybe just start thinking of the positives about him when you see him instead? Like how he brought us those donuts one day. Wasn’t that nice?” you tried to persuade him.

“He brought lemon ones,” he said with a disgusted look. “I hate lemon.”

“He also bought chocolate,” you laughed softly at how adamant he was about disliking the cheery man.

Jungkook shrugged, not seeming to care about that addition to the truth.

“Next time, I’ll let him know not to bring lemon,” you said. “Even though I love lemon.” You sighed dramatically as if just the thought pained you deeply.

Jungkook eyed you carefully. You knew he was torn between wanting you to be happy with your lemon treats versus wanting Hoseok to be scolded.

“I’ll bring you lemon donuts instead,” he argued.

You smiled at his childish behavior. He really was cute when he pouted.

“Okay.”

You agreed too quickly for Jungkook to appreciate his counterattack. He now felt manipulated into buying you donuts.

“You’re a menace,” he huffed.

“Actually, I’m fairly certain Spider-Man is more of a menace than me. Didn’t you hear? He’s sticking his eight legs where he shouldn’t be,” you taunted him, recalling the ridiculous news articles you’ve read online.

Jungkook understood your reference and scoffed lightly.

“It takes a menace to know a menace,” he said.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled at him.

“You’re cute,” you observed, which caused him to frown.

“I think it’s past your bedtime. You’re getting delusional,” he said and started to move away from you.

You let him go, eyes following his figure as he stood up. He stretched his arms over his head, mouthing dropping open in a yawn.

“You ready to head back?” he asked politely.

You nodded.

Jungkook held a hand out for you and helped you to your feet. You stumbled a little from the uneven surface, but Jungkook held you securely so you didn’t fall. Once you stood up, you could feel the soreness between your legs—reminding you of what occurred just minutes ago. Jungkook’s demeanor was different now than before and it emphasized there were multiple sides to him that people didn’t know… and would never know.

“Did you drive here?”

“No,” you shook your head, causing Jungkook to frown.

“Yn, I told you not-”

“It was nice out and the walk isn’t far,” you attempted to reason and stared up at him with puppy eyes. Jungkook didn’t back down from his firm stare.

“It’s too dangerous, okay? If you don’t feel like driving, I can pick you up.”

Not wanting to start an actual argument, you simply said okay. That was going to be an issue to discuss later.

Jungkook must have also not been up for an argument since he didn’t press you on the topic. He sighed and pulled his lips in a smile, trying to lighten the suddenly gloomy mood. He pressed a kiss to your head.

“Let’s go then,” he said; he tugged his mask over his head and then picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms tightly around his neck.

Swinging with him wasn’t as fun as people imagined it to be. It wasn’t your preferred transportation since it often left you a little dizzy and disoriented. Jungkook was aware of the effects and swung slower than he usually did.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after a few swings.

“I’m okay,” you reassured, your body still clung to his and eyes closed.

“Almost there,” he replied and kept his focus on getting back safely.

By the time you stepped foot in your dorm, it was nearly four in the morning. Your roommate was passed out when you quietly entered your room. Jungkook had dropped you off, giving you an affectionate kiss and ensuring you felt stable before he left.

Although the late night was catching up to you, you forced yourself to do your nighttime routine. It just felt odd not to. You climbed into bed quickly after.

Out of habit, you grabbed your phone to check it. There was a notification from Jungkook.

Love Bug 4:09am i hope u sleep well. u def made my patrol a lot more fun tonight

A smile crept on your face, and you held your covers closer to your body.

Menace (loving) 4:16am I had a fun time too. Does this mean you’ll let me go on patrol with you more often? 😌

Love Bug 4:20am its tempting…but i rather we go on a date instead

Menace (loving) 4:22am Maybe soon?

Love Bug 4:25am i can make that happen

Love Bug 4:25am now go to sleep baby. talk to you tomorrow

Menace (loving) 4:26am Alright, alright. Goodnight, handsome 😊

Love Bug 4:27am good morning (;

You chuckled at his reply, remembering it was nearly 4:30 in the morning. You locked your phone, set it on your nightstand, and finally fell asleep after a long day.

When you woke up the next day, you were greeted with a wide bunny-esque smile in your view.

Despite not getting a lot of sleep, Jungkook had woken up early to buy you lemon donuts. Your roommate was on her way to class when Jungkook visited, so she let him in.

He was bizarrely cheerful considering his lack of sleep and while you wanted to be annoyed at having been woken up early, you couldn’t be mad when he seemed so joyful.

You both had your fair share of donuts—he had almond—before snuggling on your bed and falling asleep again.

This time when you were woken, you were irritated. You just wanted to sleep but there was a loud ringing close to you. It took you a few moments to realize what that noise was.

Class was about to start soon.

Jungkook was still half asleep when he tried to keep you in bed, whining for you to skip class just this once. You did contemplate it, but in the end, you forced yourself to get ready.

Jungkook had watched you silently as you got ready and when it was time to go, he walked you to class. You took a mental note to book the apartment tour soon after he left you. The idea of living with Jungkook brought a smile to your face as you sat down in class, mind wandering to the man you could see yourself with for a lifetime.

For those who want to share their thoughts/comments anonymously, please consider filling out my SBaFL survey c:

Also, yes, my inspo did come from this scene hehe. Thank you for reading! And special thanks to those who joined the taglist for the fic ✨ I got a lot more than I anticipated, so I'm grateful!

Again, happy birthday Jeon Jungkook! 💜

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY. Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

Text

practice (pt. 3) | jjk (teaser)

→pairing: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

→rating/genre: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

→word count: tbd (teaser is 239)

→warnings: eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, more detailed warnings list will be included in full fic

→summary: Sparks fly as you try to forget about Jungkook.

→notes: this is my gift to you for hitting a follower milestone !!! love you guys and thank you for all the support on this series. if you're new, if you read the parts listed below i'll kiss ya! muah love u bbies. feedback is always appreciated :')

→series: | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 |

dumbo: do u want lunch? i can drop it off soon

You were midway through a three hour lab and you really needed to focus. Unfortunately, the professor’s droning was easily overtaken by the incessant vibrating. You peek at your phone with a scoff before shoving it back into your pocket.

Jungkook doesn’t get the hint.

dumbo: i’ll just get the usu

dumbo: ur lab is in room 305 in the civic engagement building right?

Room 222 in the science building. You don’t correct him, though.

It was difficult to ignore the sharp, self-inflicted stabs that pierced into your chest whenever he texted you. But you had to cut loose, rip off the bandaid before it had time to adhere to you fully. You hadn’t talked to him in days. Not since he lied to you.

Whenever you had the urge to respond, you went through memories. Pictures of him looking unamused, pink pout scrunched up as you smushed his full cheeks together. Videos of his nostrils fluttering as blaring snores filled your dorm room. Your soft giggles in the background.

Little snapshots of the present that were now the past.

You were slowly weaning yourself off of Jeon Jungkook.

Your phone goes off again during your break.

dumbo: hey i’ve been waiting for like 20 min

dumbo: gonna head out since ur probably caught up. free until about 4 tho so text me if u want anything

dumbo: or we can just get something after the showcase?

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hoebii · 2 years

Text

Black Mamba XI

Pairing : OT7 x Hybrid! Reader Genre : Angst, Fluff, Hybrid!Au Rating: nc-17 Warning : Violence, swearing, mental breakdowns, weapons (mentioned), toxic thoughts, blood • Information above may change as the story progresses Wc : 2.2k Betas : @moccahobi (Please the way she puts so much effort and thought into this story! I love you I love you I love you <3) Banner and divider : @jaeism Wanna be tagged? Complete this form A/N : Very sorry for the wait but here I am! I actually had this chapter written for a while now but life decided it hates me and who am I to fight that 🤡 Anyways! Hope you guys like this one, feedback is always appreciated and I’m very very sorry for the wait <3

Previous || Next

You woke up gasping for air. It felt as if someone had wrapped their hands around your neck and just kept squeezing. Clawing at your throat, you felt nothing besides your own nails scratching the skin raw.

It took you a while before your brain registered that you weren’t being strangled by phantom hands - the only harm you were in would come from you and with that in mind, you finally put them down beside you on the bed.

With trembling legs, you stood from your bed and walked to the light switch by the door, flicking it on and bathing the room in light. Squinting at the sudden light, you took a moment to gather your bearings, leaning back against the door, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as your body shook from the shock. You slid down when you felt as if your legs could no longer support your weight, the plethora of emotions coursing through you becoming overwhelming.

You didn’t know how long you sat by your door, almost dozing off then and there but the moment your eyes closed, all you saw was red.

Red on the wall, on your hands, wherever you could see. Snapping your eyes open again. Only to be greeted back into your room at the mansion where you now lived after being adopted - no red in sight. You stared at your fingers as you moved them around, forcing yourself to accept that everything was okay. Everything was as it should be.

You slapped yourself to make yourself focus on reality. Trembling as you shrunk in on yourself, as if you were hiding from them, you tried to shut your mind off. You didn’t want emotions to rule you but you couldn’t stop it from doing so either. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shook your head vigorously when you saw red creeping in behind your lids again. You refused to stop till the images that sprung to your mind dissipated, only stopping when the dizziness got too much.

Growling when that didn’t work, you stood from your place on the floor, a hand shooting out to stabilise yourself against the door when the world spun around you as an aftermath of standing up too fast - or maybe it was also due to making yourself dizzy a few moments ago. The hand that supported you against the door curled into a fist and your lips twisted into a scowl. Not thinking, you winded your hand back and threw a punch right at the door before stopping mere centimetres away from it. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration and you gently let your fist touch the wood.

No.

You weren’t going to destroy anything else.

You couldn’t.

Letting your hand fall back to your side, you took a deep breath in before exhaling. Forcing your body to relax. Your eyes darted from one place to another - observing your room as a way of distracting yourself from the war that raged on.

The memories that came back to haunt you disguised as nightmares had you reacting more than you should have. You felt as if you were drowning on dry land, ironic.

You bumped your head against the door gently a few times before letting yourself go and fully put your weight against the said object. Your eyes snapped open the moment your eyes slid shut, the images your mind conjured too much to take.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, picking at your cuticles, biting on the skin around your nails - trying to ground yourself to reality - to clear your mind. Time felt like it no longer existed around you, just a suffocating darkness creeping closer the longer you stayed there motionless.

Growing restless, you decide to throw on a sweatshirt before leaving your room, only silence greeting you as you stepped out. You didn’t know where you wanted to go, just letting your legs lead you aimlessly through the manor. A gust of cold wind blew by, making a shiver run down your spine. You scanned the area to try and locate where it came from, realising that someone had left one of the windows in the hallway open.

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to come up with a reason for why that would be the case. You wanted to investigate but when you moved to close and lock the window before continuing to roam, the window seemed to be already locked.

Did you imagine the whole thing? Suddenly you weren’t sure if anything around you was real anymore. What was wrong with you?

Your thoughts were already a mess - though you did make sure to keep an eye out for anything else out of the ordinary afterwards. Not that it would make a difference. Who knew if what you saw was what was really happening.

In your dazed state, you barely noticed when you entered the kitchen - standing by the counter, the thoughts swirling around your head were chains constricting around your entire being, rendering you unable to move.

With your eyes glued to the marble counter in the middle of the kitchen, you let your thoughts consume you - suddenly not having any more energy to fight against them. You were miles away, distantly you felt a muted stinging sensation against your wrists but even then you weren’t sure if it was a figment of your imagination or reality.

You didn’t know how long you stood there. Finally letting yourself get lost in the darkness that encapsulated your every thought. You didn’t bother fighting against the demons that clawed at your heart, the ache increasing the longer you let it happen. It felt as if you would be forever stuck in your personal hell when something jerked you out of it.

Slowly but surely you became more aware of your surroundings, your ears finally registering the urgency of the voice that seemed to be calling out your name as they kept a firm grip on your wrist.

Your eyes slowly trailed up from your hand to the face of the person who had pulled you out of the darkness that seemed never ending in your mind not even a second ago.

With pursed lips and concern shining bright in his eyes, Jimin looked at you. You could feel the way his grip around your wrist got stronger for the briefest of moments before going slack again. Your eyes met his, noting the way his brows were furrowed and his lips were in a pout.

“When Tae got the bracelet for you, I don’t think it was for you to use it to hurt yourself, you know?” He spoke softly. “Actually, if I recall correctly, he got it for the opposite reason.”

“I,” you started, eyes widening a fraction when your voice cracked from not using it since you had awakened. “I wasn’t hurting myself.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow at that, glancing back at where he was still holding your wrist.

“That’s not what it looked like to me.”

It was your turn to furrow your brows. You hadn’t been hurting yourself in any way that you knew of, so why was he saying that?

It was as if your body suddenly came alive, too fast for your brain to catch up as your muscles locked and stiffened- alarms blaring in your mind all of a sudden that someone was touching you.

A part of you wanted to snatch your wrist away - maybe you would’ve if this had occurred when you newly came here. Now, you could somewhat control your instincts - at least to a certain degree so you wouldn’t end up hurting someone again.

Try as you might, repressing instincts wasn’t as easy as you hoped for it to be and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet hiss, the suddenness of everything still making you try to jerk your hand away and cause a sharp stinging sensation to run up your body.

Jimin must’ve gotten surprised from your sudden reaction as he let go of your hand immediately, making sure to put some distance between you two.

Of course he would be cautious around you.

Have you forgotten the way you hurt Taehyung when you first came here?

You’re lucky they still let you live here.

Pathetic.

You pushed the thoughts away, though you couldn’t help the frown on your face. In midst of your self-deprecating thoughts, your gaze finally settled back on your wrist where the skin beneath the bracelet was red and raw.

When did this happen?

“I,” you tried speaking again, clearing your throat. “I didn’t realise when-“

Jimin hummed, his attention seemingly somewhere else as he walked around the kitchen, looking for something.

“I get it, you did it without thinking right? Hobi hyung does that sometimes, lost in his own world.”

You were relieved that he seemed to understand what you were trying to say but… why was Jimin telling you this?

“Aha!” You heard- him exclaim from somewhere behind the counter where he had crouched down. His head poked up and you saw a tiny grin on his face as he looked at you. “Found it.”

“Found what?”

“First-aid kit!” He declared as he stood up and put the said box on the counter with a thud. “Let me see your hand.”

“It’s nothing serious, you don’t have to-“ you tried to refuse but were met with unimpressed eyes of Jimin silently offering his hand for you to put yours on.

“You know, you’re a lot more similar to my hyungs than you realise. Don’t try pulling a Yoongi on me with the ‘I can do it myself’ thing. I know you can but I just wanna be able to take care of you,” he rambled on, his tone getting more filled with restrained emotions the more he went on.

Not knowing how to reply, you wordlessly put your hand on his upturned one. A shiver ran down your spine when he gripped it gently before moving the bracelet down your forearms.

“I noticed that you don’t like taking it off so I’ll just move it down for me to be able to work properly,” he explained, as if sensing the question on your mind.

The place fell silent as he got to disinfecting and bandaging your wrist and you observing him. You tried inputting all the details of his face in your brain, not being able to tear your eyes away from how concentrated he looked. You would like to blame your past training; needing to account for every tiny detail you could find of your victims to come up with the best way to finish the job. Yet, when it came to Jimin, a part of you knew that wasn’t the reason why you were so invested in him. It was something else, something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You didn’t realise that he was done until you heard him cough to grab your attention. Confusion running through you when you felt your face get warmer.

Were you getting sick all of a sudden? But that’s highly unlikely.

“Thank you,” you whispered nonetheless, not wanting to speak any louder. “I’m sorry for taking up your time with this, I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen in the future.”

Jimin’s brows furrowed at your words, a pout on his lips as he looked you in the eyes.

“Nonsense, I could’ve walked past and not done anything when I saw you. I chose to do this. Don’t be sorry.”

A beat of silence.

“Besides,” he spoke again, “I like spending time with you - you getting hurt aside. I wanna get to know you better and if you don’t want anyone else to know about this then it can be our little secret.”

A smile came on his lips. “Sounds fun, no? Secret meet ups in the dead of nights where we just spend some time together?”

You couldn’t explain the emotions that went through you at his words but you were certain that you… liked them.

Jimin single-handedly somehow replaced the unbearable darkness that took hold of you with something light and relieving in merely minutes.

You spent the next hour or two simply sitting in the kitchen listening to Jimin talk about anything that came to his mind. You tried your best to give your input wherever you could but you were glad that Jimin didn’t seem to mind that he was doing most of the talking.

At one point you could hear someone making their way to where the two of you were, letting Jimin know. You only watched as Jimin ran to keep the first-aid kit back to it’s original spot and darted to make sure nothing seemed out of ordinary around the kitchen.

He crouched behind the counter and motioned for you to join him, signalling you to keep quiet as the two of you stayed there in silence. You could hear the tiny giggles leaving his lips as the person entered the kitchen before doing whatever they needed to do - you tried to peek but Jimin tugged on your shirt to keep you still.

It was only when you informed him that the other person had left and that you could no longer hear their footsteps did he spring up from his hiding spot laughing. His joy, so endearing and wholesome that it made you crack a small smile though you could feel doubt starting to rise anew at the back of your mind.

It scared you, how much you had started to like living with them.

Nothing good ever lasts and all this… happiness?

Could you say that was what you were feeling?

How long will it last this time?

Taglist - @crushedblackroses , @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered , @needyomnivore , @pb-n-juju , @inwhatworld , @icedoutmywristtitanic , @toughbook , @motscult , @malewife-supremacy , @tinyoonsblog , @mickeyekim , @marauderssimppp , @mixedandfurious , @missseoulite , @justaweird0 , @bluebellxil , @sizzledgguk , @bangtansleftnut , @letskidnapsenpai , @prettyling , @skyys-universe , @callingdipsonjhope , @blacktanwriter1 , @sunnychyme , @adeptiixiao , @sweetestofchaos , @borahae-reads , @tinnielovestannies , @wooya1224 , @bloomingthistle , @aquariushoesss , @xobtsox , @miraxflor , @schokoshaker , @hesmyphenominiall , @hanaaaaa26 , @ssaboala , @crimsonrose2050world , @btsismydrug , @black-rose-29 , @flor_de_pams , @fangirl125reader , @lvpersona , @the-obsessive-fangirl , @littlrmills14-blog , @drunkzseok , @meowsimpson , @rosereveries , @kimahnjung98 , @creamberrypies , @ryujinnie94 , @cjpheonix135 , @xyahrinx , @alphavvlycanluvbts , @azucarian , @yoursoontobestepmom , @c-olbybrock , @btswdwsmhrdt , @mayla548 , @sevenpersona , @noir-et-blank , @ajikdonamjinie , @fangirl-nonsense , @yoongi-bear , @beach-bitch-bitch-beach , @singukieee , @yuuji1core , @blackrockshooter780 , @ah2002, @narcissism-iskey , @mangminnie , @unicornbabylover , @childfmoonn , @afternoonteabiscuit , @katbonv , @ferret-u , @zae007live , @diamonddia-mond , @gukieater , @colourlyhobbit , @nishi-noyas , @jjjj-ssi , @yoonchrisgull , @sugapiie , @reallysparklychaos , @rosequilleta , @mageprincess7 , @aestheticslover1 , @christiandosworld , @veronawrites , @midnightjimin , @matchat3a

If you wished to be removed, lmk <3

#thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #castlebangtan #btshoneyhive #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts au #poly!bts #bts poly #poly!bts x reader #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid!au #bts hybrid

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hisunshiine · 1 year

Text

—tri-wizard trials | myg

→ posted: dec 26, 2022 → pairing: slytherin!yoongi x gryffindor!reader → au/genre: hogwarts au, brother’s best friend, smallest of angst, fluff, smut → chapter rating: +18 / M for Mature → wc: 7,251 → warnings: everyone involved in smut is OF AGE. events of harry potter’s stories did not happen. Dumbledore is retired from being headmaster, but all of the other professors we know and love are not dead, everyone’s ages are different in this story, some members are not seen but are mentioned, some house banter and teasing, use of wizarding world phrases, oral (m & f receiving), loss of virginity, penetrative unprotected sex, overstimulation, second hand embarrassment → credits: story written for Toci as part of the @bangtanwritershq holiday event “Christmas Love”, thank you to my beta readers, whippedbywonho, @noonastoand @peachiilovesot7 for all of your help! → summary: As a seventh year, this is your final year to spend with your friends. It’s also a triwizard tournament year—the tournament is known as being dangerous—and it's common for some injuries to be fatal. When your brother’s best friend and fellow seventh year, Yoongi, is chosen as the school champion at the feast, you lay out your feelings and give him a prize worth much more than the cup. → an: as a gryfferin/slythindor, i approve of the slander in the story lol! i included a key terms to help muggles, and i’m very excited to have a hogwarts au story!

Key Terms for Muggles:

Abraxans - a breed of winged horses, gigantic and extremely powerful with an appearance akin to that of a palomino horse Common Room - “living room” for students; each house has their own The Entrance Hall - entryway of the castle that has access to the great hall, staircase to the higher floors, and dungeons Fiendfyre - enchanted fire from an advanced dark magic curse that creates flames of immense size and heat that are capable of destroying nearly anything in its path The Great Hall - “cafeteria” of sorts, where all students and professors eat meals Hippogriff - a magical beast that has the front legs, wings, and head of a giant eagle and the body, hind legs and tail of a horse Room of Requirement - also known as the Come and Go Room is a secret room that only appears if you are in great need of it Veela - semi-human magical beings; beautiful women with white-gold hair and skin that appears to shine moon-bright

OCT 30th — 11:47 PM

Seven years ago you were eleven turning twelve, and just starting your life here within these castle walls. Dragging your fingers along the cold stone bricks, you smile softly as you pass a coat of arms hanging from an archway. Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry has been your home for so long, and now, in your final year, you can’t believe that you have less than eight months until you’d be graduating and moving off into the world.

Since returning back in September, you’d sometimes get this overwhelming bittersweet feeling about leaving this place next June. You’re supposed to be in bed, as it wasn’t your night to patrol the halls, but instead your feet have led you down the many flights of stairs to the entrance hall on the main floor. The soft glow of the lowered flames lit the corridor just enough for you to not trip over the trick step on your way down from the Gryffindor common room, but as you enter the entrance hall, the light changes briefly.

Your eyes flicker up, taking note of Min Yoongi standing within the age line that Professor Bang Si-hyuk had charmed around the glowing goblet in the middle of the hall. Blue flames return the corridor to a somber mood as Yoongi’s arm drops back to his side, hands tucking a sheet of folded parchment and a quill back into his robe pocket as he turns to exit.

“Hey.”

His cool demeanor as his eyes avoid contact with yours is something you aren’t used to anymore; as your twin brother Jimin’s best friend, you’ve grown close to the blond over the years despite being in different houses, but having you as a prefect and now Head Girl has saved them from losing several house points along the way.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were going to enter?” you question as an attempt to warm his attitude, but he just grunts, moving to walk past you and back towards the hall that leads to the dungeon common room.

Turning his direction, your hand shoots out to grasp his wrist, but upon looking at his face, you drop his arm.

“Yoongi?”

“I’m really tired YN, I’ll talk to you later.”

Yoongi’s robes billow around him as he disappears into the shadows of the castle walls, descending into the dungeons and leaving you to the chill of the midnight hour.

OCT 31st — 2:11 AM

Back in your dorm room on the seventh floor in Gryffindor tower, sleep continues to flit from you like the golden snitch: teasing you to your face, just to disappear out of sight in a blink of an eye.

Min Yoongi entered the Triwizard Tournament—one of the most dangerous tournaments for students that exists, with fatal injuries a common thing. Sure, the previous headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had seen to it that students had to be of age to enter, but did age really matter in the end?

You roll over onto your side, flipping your pillow to the cool side and think about the chances of Yoongi being selected. There are several other seventh years that you know will be entering, and you attempt to quell your growing fears. Why would a Slytherin be chosen over a Gryffindor? Could hissing, prong-tongued, dungeon dwellers really be more worthy as the school’s champion over a fierce, courageous and proud lion?

You aren’t normally one to believe the propaganda spewed about each house, but the thought surprisingly aids in calming you down enough to allow sleep to overtake you, and you dream of dark eyes, light hair, and a gummy smile that refused to show itself to you tonight, and you have a sinking feeling it has everything to do with the conversation he must’ve overheard.

OCT 30th — 5 - 8 PM the Welcoming Feast, several hours earlier

You stand in the front of the castle with the other students, awaiting the arrival of the two other magical schools in the region, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Of the three magical schools, you were at the one led by Professor Bang Si-hyuk, and in your opinion, it was the best school to attend. Beauxbatons was headed by Professor Park Jae-sang, a lively man who enjoyed working with his students. Professor Park Jin-young, the Durmstrang headmaster, was less concerned with his students, and more concerned with his own vanity.

Watching as the Great Lake ripples with life, a large boat pushes through the water to sit atop the waves. A large ramp lowers itself to the shore, and a small group of young men disembark behind a toadly looking man and make their way toward you all.

You notice a grinning man leading the group of students and he’s quite striking in a tall, dark, and handsome way. His smile has dimples and is easily given, and exactly what you’re used to if you look at your ex. Shaking the thought away, you hear the whispers of the other female students who can’t believe how tall and cute the men arriving are.

Soon after Park Jin-young greets Headmaster Bang, the group of men retire inside to wait for the welcoming feast. It’s not more than five minutes before a large carriage arrives, flown by magnificent winged beasts, Abraxans by the look of it.

Park Jae-sang appears to dance across the grass once he’s out of the carriage, a small group of students following him as Hagrid leads the Abraxans to the grassy paddock. You’ve heard that his school is quite small, and by the looks of it, he may have brought every ‘of-age’ student with him. You can’t help but notice only one blonde girl in the group of young men, spritely but proud as she walks with her head held high.

Once the Beauxbatons students are in, Headmaster Bang leads the rest of you into the Great Hall, where the decorations for tomorrow have come to life. Bats and orange streamers line the corridors and you hope that the visitors will enjoy their time here. Seeing your twin brother, you grab his sleeve to keep up with him amongst the crowd. Jimin sees you and smiles, eyes half moon as he wraps his arm around your shoulders in a side hug.

“YN, this year is gonna be fantastic, innit?”

“I mean, so far it already has been, Gryffindor is in the lead for the house cup thanks to that win against Slytherin last week,” you tease.

Jimin pouts; as Slytherin seeker, they lost by only ten points when your best friend caught the snitch before he could.

“Jeon got lucky, that’s all.”

You giggle, linking arms with him as he shuffles down the hall towards his best friend. Not to say you and your brother weren’t also best friends—you shared a womb with him—but outside of your twin bond, you each had a best friend in your respective houses.

Yoongi stood along the wall next to a suit of arms, well out of the way of the crowd. As you approached, he gave you one of his rare smiles.

“Well, if it isn’t Park-squared.”

“Ohh, Yoongi, I didn’t know you could do math.”

“Ha-ha. Anyways, what do you think of the potential champions from the other schools?” he asks, looking at your brother. Jimin answers as you turn your back to the wall, eyes on the crowd to help direct the younger students. Head Girl duties and what not.

“Well, Durmstrang looks pretty fit, I think any of them could be champions. Beauxbatons had that girl…she was quite stunning. I felt like I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.”

“Oooh, I felt that way too,” you chime in, “you don’t think she’s part Veela, do you? You know near Beauxbatons, it is more common for magical creatures like Veela to mix with wizards.”

“She could be. I didn’t quite care for her, though.” Yoongi shared, staring at you while you looked away from him across the crowd of students still lingering in the hall.

“Mmm, do you ever care for anyone though, Min? I’ve never even seen you look twice at a girl our whole time at Hogwarts,” you taunt back.

“I just have impeccable taste, and maybe the people who meet it haven’t noticed me yet.”

Giggling, you turn back to look at him.

“Min Yoongi, have you seen yourself? Even I went through the ‘I’ve got a crush on Min Yoongi but he’ll never notice me’ phase when we were in fourth year, along with half the school. I highly doubt there’s anyone left in the school who hasn’t noticed you.”

Yoongi opens his mouth, ready to question you more about this phase he had no idea you went through, but Jimin speaks first, pulling you along with him towards the now clear doors. You reach for Yoongi, who allows you to loop your arm through his own, eyes burning into your skull.

“Anyways, thank God you aren’t still drooling over my best friend, god that was such an annoying time of my life, hearing you talk on and on about him. So, who from Hogwarts do you think will enter?”

“I don’t know…” you think, “I guess I expect most of the seventh year boys will enter. Probably quidditch players, like yourself, twin. Maybe some of the other Head Boys and Girls, like Jung Hoseok in Hufflepuff. Not me, though.”

“No, no, I’m not going to enter either. Can’t mar this beautiful face of mine. One Park twin has to be beautiful.”

You shoulder him lightly at his joke, jostling Yoongi into your side more, as your group abruptly stops by the Slytherin table.

“What do you think about someone who would enter the tournament?” Yoongi quietly asks you as another person begins talking to your brother.

“I guess…I don’t know what I think. I think they would be brave. Or maybe foolhardy. Definitely would make them hot in my eyes. Imagine seeing them take on dragons or rescue a family of unicorns in the Forbidden Forest?” you practically swoon as you imagine that one tall Durmstrang boy shirtless, lifting a baby unicorn out of harm’s way. “Why? Do you plan to enter Yoongi?”

“Yoongi? Enter? There’s no way this brooding hunk would ever be chosen as the Hogwarts Champion in the first place, even if he did enter.”

Choi Sung-ho, the Slytherin you hated the most, has the audacity to cut into your conversation with Yoongi.

“And you think you’ve got a chance, Choi? Fuck off.” You flip him the bird, turning back to Yoongi, whose features have schooled themselves into a look of indifference.

“Park, I’d gladly fuck off if you fuck off with me. I hear you can ride me like a hippogriff.”

“You’re disgusting Choi.”

“Hey, I heard you like to do nasty things in between classes, Park. The Kim brothers sure do talk a lot.”

You reach for your wand, ready to Bat Bogey Hex the fucker for bringing up your ex-boyfriend, but Jimin beats you to the punch. Literally.

“Choi. Keep my sister’s name out of your mouth, if you know what’s good for you. I recommend you head up to the infirmary and let Madame Pomfrey fix that broken nose.”

You glance around, looking for a teacher to appear and reprimand you for the scuffle, but you see Yoongi lower his hand, and the silently cast spell fades, allowing your small group to be seen once again. Sung-ho hastens from the Great Hall, his green and silver scarf bunched up to stop the bleeding.

“You and Jimin must beat up people a lot, you cast that charm without any warning!” you glare at the two, not sure you want to know how they became so good at timing that. “God, I can’t stand Sung-ho. He’s only sour because he asked me out in fifth year, but I turned him down.”

“He did?” Yoongi inquires quietly as Jimin inspects his hand for damage.

“Yeah, but I told him no because I liked someone else…” you turned your eyes down away from Yoongi’s searing stare, choosing instead to pick at an invisible thread on your school robes.

“That’s why he was such a bitch to you during fifth year, Yoongi. ‘Cause she turned him down because of you.”

“What? That’s why he hexed me in Charms class?”

Headmaster Bang stood and motioned for everyone to sit before anyone else could answer. Jimin pulled Yoongi away from you to take a seat at their table, parting from you with a small wave and you were left to walk over to Gryffindor table alone, mulling over the way Yoongi eyes had bore into yours as revelations came to light of your crush from several years ago—had it ever gone away?

Sitting down, you blink several times as two people you haven't seen in ages appear. Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon, recent Hogwarts grads who now work at the Ministry. Seated among the professors, the reason for their appearance back at the school is revealed as Headmaster Bang introduces them to announce the Triwizard Tournament.

“Hello everyone! Many of you might remember me, Kim Seokjin, Gryffindor house alumni and the youngest ever Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I am here with Kim Namjoon, former Head Boy and Ravenclaw alumni, AND also the youngest in his role as the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. We would love to announce the start of the Triwizard Tournament! The two of us have worked with our teams to bring back this legendary tournament, and we look forward to experiencing this with you all!”

“Yes, my brother is right!” Kim Namjoon, your ex, approaches the podium to speak next to Seokjin, and when his eyes meet yours, he smiles at you lovingly. You don’t know how to feel at the moment, with feelings you thought had been buried resurfacing randomly. “This tournament helps to bring wizards and witches across the globe together, and we are so excited for this act of cooperation at the secondary level. We believe cooperation starts at a young age.”

“Professor Bang has graciously agreed to host the event this year, and now, we will allow him to present to you the artifact that will set this whole event off!” The two brothers make their way back to their seats as the headmaster returns to the podium.

“Before we eat, our guests will be able to submit their names, since they will reside outside of the castle, and Hogwarts students can submit once the feast is over…”

Your eyes drift towards the far side of the hall, searching for those dark and brooding eyes. When you find them, it’s like you’re locked into his gaze by a spell, and you don’t hear a word of what the headmaster says of the rest of his speech, unable to take in anything but the pouting face of Min Yoongi until applause surrounds you.

The Goblet of Fire has been revealed, the age line drawn around the stand, and members from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons rise to enter their names. The feast commences, and around you people are eating and talking, but all you can think about is what those eyes are trying to tell you.

You barely remember eating, but you take your spot to make sure all of the students clear out from the Great Hall once the feast is over. Seeing the last of the stragglers heading to the entry hall, you move to follow them out, stopping when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your wrist gently.

“YN, it’s so good to see you.” Namjoon’s dimples light up the space as he smiles down at you and you can’t help but to smile back.

“Hi, Namjoon. I didn’t know you would be here for this.”

He scratches the back of his neck bashfully.

“Yeah, I told Taehyung not to tell you, in case you tried to hide from me.”

“Oh really? And why would I hide from you,” you challenge.

“Well, I know that we didn’t break up on the best of terms…”

“Yeah, hearing all of my business across the castle grounds was not the greatest thing to experience.”

“It wasn’t me—this is one of the reasons I’m glad I came. It didn’t feel right sending it via owl, and well… yeah. I figured I owed you the truth in person. I found out afterwards that Peeves was snooping on us that night. He was singing some vulgar song about it in the halls—”

“Yes, I vividly remember that Ravenclaw with the crush on you enjoyed singing it.”

“I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t meaningless to me. I just, I was leaving school and you would still be here another year and I’m the youngest to be in this position. I didn’t know Peeves was there that night, watching everything. I didn’t think anyone would know about the breakup.”

You look up to the bewitched night sky, not really wanting to relive that night.

“I’ve forgiven you. Peeves does what he does best, and I know it wasn’t anything personal. It just sucked because…well, I thought we were in love back then.”

“I really did love you, YN.” Namjoon steps closer to you, reaching for your hands. “I think I still do.”

“Oh.”

You feel weird having your ex confess he still has feelings for you, especially when feelings for a certain Slytherin have just made themselves known to you once again. You remain silent, staring at your joined hands.

“Look, I know you weren’t expecting to hear this, but just think about it. I’ll be here quite a lot over the tournament…” Namjoon blushes, eyes looking behind you. “Hey, Min. What's up?”

“Jimin was looking for YN, and Taehyung said he thought she was still in the Great Hall.”

You turn to face Yoongi, noticing the way he and Namjoon are having a staredown that doesn’t seem all that friendly despite the way their voices sound.

“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to her real quick.” Namjoon turns back to you, leaning down to kiss your cheek softly.

“Just think about it, YN.”

You nod, unable to answer him as he releases you and turns, disappearing into the side door the rest of the professors had retired to for after dinner chatting.

Finally feeling your body able to move again, you turn to tell Yoongi about the weird conversation, but he’s gone, leaving you alone in the Great Hall.

OCT 31st — 6 - 8 PM

The second feast in two days commences right as the sun begins to set on Halloween. The castle is decorated to your heart’s content; next to Christmas at the castle, Halloween is your favorite time of the year. The knights' armor lining the hall is shined and sparkling and the candles floating above the house tables send a warm, yet haunting glow throughout the Great Hall.

Walking side by side with your brother, you watch as he easily melds into his green and silver crew, the lot of them side-eying you in your maroon and gold as they welcome your brother into their folds.

“Over here!”

You look farther along where your table is positioned at the opposite end of the hall from your brother’s, seeing your best friend, sixth year Gryffindor seeker Jeon Jungkook waving you down to sit. He pats an open spot as you climb over the wooden bench and plop down next to him.

“Sorry, I had to run as soon as I was released from Herbology, Professor Sprout kept us a bit late, and Nabi called a last minute practice, you know how she gets when players are late.” Jungkook greets with a sly grin on his face.

“Nabi wouldn’t dare punish her honey, Jeon. You could arrive late to a game and she would still shower you with praise.” You retort, leaning past Jungkook to smile at the girl seated on his other side. Nabi, captain of the quidditch team and a fellow seventh year student, has been your best friend's girlfriend for several years now. “Hey Nabi!”

“Hey good twin! Is everything okay?” she asks, and Jungkook shoots her a puzzling look.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Well, it wasn’t your night to patrol and you weren’t in bed last night when I got in—” she says, Jungkook elbowing her in the rib lightly with a cough.

“I mean, I had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and you weren’t there when I left or returned, I was worried about you.”

“Oh!” you laugh to yourself, ruffling Jungkook’s hair as his ears turn pink, confirming that Nabi made a slip up about their whereabouts the previous evening. “I couldn’t sleep, you know how I get. I was just wandering the halls until I felt tired enough to fall asleep.”

She nods, leaning into Jungkook to plant a loud kiss to his reddenning cheek, but the words she says to him go unheard as a loud roar rips through the hall. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students stream through the massive double doors to a loud applause, and you turn your head to watch as they wait patiently in two lines as Argus Filch, the caretaker, pulls a wheeled platform with the Goblet of Fire onto it towards the front of the teacher’s platform.

Headmaster Bang stands, asking the students to be seated wherever there is space at the house tables, and in moments the hall is quiet as he finally approaches the podium.

“Tonight, we will learn the names of the three school champions to take on the three tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. Before the Goblet announces the champions, are there any last minute students who would like to enter?”

The Great Hall is quiet as everyone looks around, the air suddenly tense. All eyes turn to the Goblet of Fire, which begins to spark as the flames shift, dancing in wild delight. Headmaster Bang steps towards it, where the first bit of parchment flies out from the flames.

“The first champion, from Durmstrang, is Ok Taecyeon!”

The hall breaks out into noise as the tall man you saw the previous day leading the Durmstrang students stands and walks up to the podium. He shakes hands with all three headmasters, as well as both Seokjin and Namjoon, and then disappears through the side door you saw Namjoon go through last night.

As the cheers die down, the goblet once again begins to cast sparks as it flares up, another charred bit of paper floating down slowly after being spit out.

“Next, from Beauxbatons—Jang Da-hye!”

You applaud with the others as the blonde, Veela-like girl rises from the Ravenclaw table and approaches the podium to copy Taecyeon, shaking the three headmasters hands before heading into the other room.

A hush grows over the students as you all wait for the goblet to announce the final champion—the Hogwarts champion. You can feel the palpable silence, sitting tensely until it gives way to the sounds of the fire beginning to vacillate, and the flames seem to shift between the brightest shades it could burn. The last piece of parchment paper shoots out of the now white hot fire, and as the headmaster reads the last name he’s just snatched out of the air, you feel your heart drop.

“Hogwarts champion, Min Yoongi of Slytherin House!”

The table at the far end erupts with proud exclamations, chants of his name as he clambers over the wooden bench to take his rightful place with the other champions.

“YN, you’re kind of hurting me.”

Jungkook’s arm is gripped in your hand, and you release him once you realize.

“Sorry, I’m just shocked is all.”

“Are you sure?” He leans towards you so only you can hear him. “Is this fourth year all over again?”

You look at him, scandalized that he so easily read you. From across the Great Hall, Jimin also takes note of your reaction.

OCT 31st — 10:13 PM

It’s that very reason that Jimin summons you to meet him outside of your common room after most of the students had all turned in for the night. You’d just taken a bath, and your hair was still pulled up out of your face from where you’d scrubbed it clean. You swing open the portrait to step over the ledge, tugging your night robes around you to keep the chill out as you shuffle over to where Jimin is and away from the warmth of the common room.

“Jimin, where’s the Fiendfyre?” you ask, confused at the urgency of the message.

“I saw your reaction tonight. You should talk to him.”

“This is what you’ve called me out of bed for?”

“Yes, because Yoongi has been weird all day and he won’t say, which means it has something to do with you.” Jimin glares at you as if you’ve done something wrong.

“What in Merlin’s beard? I didn’t do anything to Yoongi!”

“Yoongi doesn’t hide anything from me unless it has to do with you. I’m not stupid. I saw the way he was looking at you yesterday after you let slip about your past crush, and I saw the way you reacted to hearing his name being called.”

“Okay? I still didn’t do anything! If anyone bothered him, it was Namjoon.”

Jimin’s eyebrows rise into his bangs.

“Namjoon? What’s that smartass got to do with anything?”

“He wanted to talk to me about the breakup…and he might have mentioned that he’s still in love with me. While we were talking, Yoongi appeared, looking for me. The two of them had a staredown, but I didn’t get to talk to Yoongi afterwards.” You think back to last night. “I even saw him entering his name, but when I tried to talk to him, he basically dismissed me.”

Jimin rolls his head back with a heaving sigh.

“Well then, I feel a lot better about what I’m about to do.”

With a firm grip, Jimin takes your wrist and all but drags you down the left corridor and away from Gryffindor landing where The Fat Lady snores in her golden frame. You twist your arm in his hold, trying to free yourself, but Jimin is quite strong.

“Jimin, what the fuck?”

He reaches the weird tapestry with Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet and walks back and forth past the opposite wall three times, face deep in thought, still never releasing you.

You quiet down your complaints and curses as a large door appears, feet unmoving as Jimin releases you to step forward and open the door. You can hear loud pounding from the other side, a muffled voice unclearly shouting words. Flinching as the door opens, you prepare for an attack.

“Park, I swear I’m gonna kill you—”

Yoongi appears in the doorway, chest heaving as if he was out of breath and his face contorted in anger that dissipates as soon as you two lock eyes. Both of you are so caught off guard and confused that when your brother shoves you into the doorway, you stumble into Yoongi’s arms as he catches you from an impending faceplant.

“Listen, this is for your own good. The door won’t unlock until you talk and figure it out. I love you both, so don’t hate me.” Jimin grimaces as he looks at the two of you before expressly shutting you in.

Shocked, you remain in Yoongi’s arms for several minutes as his breathing slows down and you take in what just happened. He seems to come to his senses, releasing you with a step back and you’re able to observe the walls around you in an attempt to ignore the other person in the room.

It’s a simple space, much like a stay at the Leaky Cauldron except it looks as if Madam Puddifoot decorated. Did Jimin lock you into a sweetheart suite?

“Your brother is the worst. Slimy git deserves to be boiled in frog spawn.” Yoongi sits on the bed, his head in his hands.

“Hey! That’s my brother, and your best friend, need I remind you.”

Yoongi’s head snaps up to face yours, and you see a flash of remorse as he attempts a deep breath.

“I know. He’s still a slimy git for this.” Clutching your night robe around your body, you’re inclined to agree. You also have no idea how long Yoongi was being held captive in here before you arrived, so you ask as much.

“Since I was finished being briefed. He literally came and grabbed me and said it was urgent that we come to the seventh floor because—” Yoongi stops speaking as his alabaster skin turns pink.

“Because what?”

“Nothing.”

“According to Jimin, it isn’t nothing, and we won’t get out of here until we talk about ‘nothing’.”

Yoongi stands, walking towards a door you hadn’t noticed earlier.

“We’ll talk later.”

The door slams, and you hear the tell tale sounds of water running. With a sigh, you take off your robe and plop down onto the other side of the mattress, spending the next 30 minutes gathering your thoughts. The same thoughts you were viciously pulled from as Yoongi stomps back into the room, blond hair wet and sticking to his forehead as steam billows out of the room behind him.

He’s dressed in pajamas, a black t-shirt and dark green plaid pants with silver and black crisscrossing. He’s a lot more covered up than you had been under your robe; not having expected to be seen by anyone but your dorm mates, you had dressed in tiny shorts and a tight tank top. Thankfully you had enough sense to pull on a robe before running out to meet Jimin.

Yoongi shuffles around, slippers dragging along the plush carpet as he ignores the fact that he’s locked in the room with you.

“Yoongi?”

“YN?”

“Are we really going to do this?”

Yoongi steps closer to where you’ve just sat up, “YN, I really don’t want to—”

“I don’t care what you do or don’t want to do.” You stand from the bed, walking closer to Yoongi. “We can’t get out of this room until we talk about it, so we’re gonna talk about it.”

Yoongi lets out a huff, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. He seems to waver between having the conversation you’re pushing for, and you see when he makes the decision to go for it, preparing to give you the honest truth.

“What is there to say, YN? I saw the way Namjoon was looking at you, I heard him declare his love for you. He’s the youngest in his department in the ministry, what have I got to compete with that?!”

“None of those things matter! Why do you even need to compete with him?” He was confusing you. No, he was getting your hopes up, but you weren’t sure he was talking about what you were thinking he was talking about.

“Why? Because what can I do to prove that I’m the better choice? Shit, even me getting chosen as Champion doesn’t mean I’ll be able to prove anything.”

His words continue to raise your hopes, but you play dumb, wanting him to spell it out for you. You close the space between you and him, just a hair’s breadth apart now.

“Yoongi, I don’t get it. Better choice for what?”

“For you! I think I’m in love with you, stupid!” His hands reach for you, cupping your face firm but gentle. “I think I love you. I think I have for a while.”

Instead of a reply, you press onto your tiptoes, lips meeting his in a soft kiss to show your affection for him as well. Surprised, it takes him a few seconds to kiss you back, responding once you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip. One hand moves to the small of your back to pull you closer, and you place your hands against his chest to clutch at his shirt and hold him to you.

“Why would you join this stupid tournament if you think you love me? You could die!” Your voice is a harsh whisper, half breathless from the kiss and half choked up from holding back your emotions. He presses his forehead to yours, his deep almond eyes burning into you, now lined with tears.

“Because I wanted to prove myself to you. I want to prove to everyone that I deserve you.”

“Yoongi, you don’t have to prove anything.”

“Please, you’re Head Girl of Gryffindor. Your ex was Head Boy of Ravenclaw, youngest in the ministry or whatever slug shit they were spewing earlier at the feast. People don’t expect us to be—you know—an us.”

“I don’t care what people expect. I want to be with you. I have wanted to be with you since we were stupid fourth years sneaking around the castle to skip class and daring each other to skinny dip with the Giant Squid.”

He laughs, a bright sound straight from his stomach. It warmed you up, made you want to hear it more.

“Don’t be the Triwizard Champion. Be with me instead,” you whisper, your fear palpable as reality settles back in. A single tear escapes your eye and you sniffle. Yoongi can’t bear to see you like this, but there’s nothing he can do.

“I..I can’t. Didn’t you hear what Bang said? Once your name is drawn from the goblet, it’s a binding contract. I have to compete.” Yoongi brushes his lips to yours, attempting to cheer you up with kisses. His voice is almost a raspy whisper as he continues. “But I’ll do whatever I need to in order to come back to you after every task.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I’ll fucking win the whole thing, too. Use the winnings to get you whatever you want.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he holds you close, large palms gliding up and down your skin as he kisses you again, deepening it so that you can’t help but release a moan that he swallows down. Stepping you backwards, he lowers you onto the bed once he feels you reach the edge, his hand protecting your head as he maneuvers you to the pillow.

You can feel his hardened length against your thigh, pressing against his pajama pants and you squirm, desire coursing through your veins to have all of this man. Your hands move to pull off his shirt and he follows your lead, removing the counterpart to every article you remove from him off of you until the two of you are naked under the sheets.

“Promise me, Yoongi,” you say lightly, brushing your lips across his. Nudging his nose against yours in the most sensual way, he captures your lips in a brief kiss before answering.

“I promise, I’ll come back to you. After every task, you’ll be in my arms like this.”

Kissing down your neck, you sigh out as his hands knead at your breasts, lithe fingers pinching your nipples into peaks. Tongue swirling around each nipple, one at a time, you can feel yourself growing wet as he slots a thigh between yours. Pressing his leg into you, you grind for friction, light moans as your clit begins to slide easily from how drenched you are.

“Can you cum for me, baby? My perfect Head Girl, you sound so pretty under me like this.”

You rock your hips harder, faster, building the coil in your lower pelvis as he continues tonguing at your chest and neck, sucking marks into your skin as proof that he was there.

“I need more, Yoongi,” you plead, and when he removes his thigh, you whine at the loss of touch. He just chuckles, a mocking sound that has you wanting to take ten points from Slytherin until you’re letting out a hiss as his warm tongue delves into your dripping center. He wastes no time, sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit, fingers circling your opening as he teases your folds.

“Fuck, Yoongi, you feel so good, just like that!” A hand buries itself deep into his hair, gripping to keep him where you want him and he is happy to oblige. Wrapping one arm around your thigh, he splays his fingers wide to keep you open and in place for him. The feel of his hand spreading you wider as his tongue swipes back and forth quickly has your body shaking as an orgasm rips through you. He continues to eat you through it, lips and tongue sloppily kissing you until your hands are pushing at him from overstimulation.

As the aftershocks run its course through your body, Yoongi kisses his way back up your heated skin, his hands soothing as they follow the same path. You taste yourself once he reaches your lips again, and he pulls your body on top of his as he continues to kiss you lazily, enjoying the happiness of knowing he made you feel good.

Heartbeat no longer racing, you relax in his hold, mind still blown over the orgasm he gave you. Wanting to return the favor, you sit up to move down his body trailing little kisses on all of the spots that stand out, like scars from fights and cute moles usually hidden under his robes, until your hand finally grasps him. He hisses, sucking in air through his teeth wetly as you stroke him lightly. Taking your thumb, you spread the precum around the tip, teasing him with kisses in the divots around his pelvis.

Yoongi’s hand strokes your hair, a gentle touch that is in juxtaposition for the lewd things you want to do to him, but it warms your heart anyways, fluttering butterflies filling your tummy at the cute gesture. Opening your mouth, you take him into it fully, enjoying the low groan as his hips buck up in response. You slide your lips back, tongue providing extra friction as you begin to bob up and down along his shaft. You balance yourself on his thighs, eyes focused on his reactions to the things that you do to see what he likes and doesn’t like.

The intake of breath every time your tongue runs along the frenulum, the way his stomach sinks in when your lips tighten around him, the hip thrusts whenever you deep throat him, nose to his pelvis as you swallow around him…Min Yoongi is falling apart because of you and you’ve never felt so powerful.

You take him fully again, holding yourself firmly to his pelvis as you swallow repeatedly and his hands grip your face, holding you there as he lets out little moans of pleasure when you take one hand to fondle his balls, spit leaking around them making it easy to massage him.

“Not yet baby, I want to..can I feel you?” he asks, popping you off of his cock with a lewd smack of your lips.

“I’ve never, I mean, I haven’t ever gone that far before,” you hesitate, wanting to fuck him but also nervous about it.

“Me either, I’ve been waiting for the right moment,” he admits, and his eyes tell you what he’s not saying: he’s been waiting for you.

His admission calms any fears you have, and you nod fervently, allowing him to manipulate your bodies into something more comfortable. Lying on your back, he hikes one of your legs up at the knee, widening your hips so he can align himself to your entrance. You watch, wide-eyed, as his hardened length breaches you, slipping in inch by inch as he braces his weight above you. You’ve never felt so full, and he peppers your lips with kisses until you tell him you’re ready for more.

Rocking his hips, your bodies move in a push and pull that allows the friction of your bodies to intensify the pleasure until you’re clutching onto his shoulders, meeting him thrust for thrust as you chase the high. Teetering on the edge, your lips seek his skin, anything that you can lick, bite, or suck as you mount closer to your peak. It’s these actions that cause Yoongi to make the sounds you needed to send you into climax, legs shaking as they wrap around him to keep him close.

“I can…I can feel you, so tight baby, I can’t—” Yoongi releases in you, unable to hold back from the tight grip your walls have on him.

Laying on his chest, you bask in the post-sex glow of your first time, his hands playing in your hair as he talks to you about when he first realized he thought you were pretty, when he first realized he had feelings, and how oblivious he was in fourth and fifth year.

“Honestly, I could die happy right now.”

“Hey! No dying on my watch. You promised.”

“Maybe I can convince Professor Bang to let me forfeit, I think you gave me a prize much better than the Triwizard Cup.” Yoongi can’t help but to joke during such a serious conversation to try and calm your fears.

“What about the thousand galleon prize the winner gets?” you tease back, “was this a much better prize still?”

Yoongi strokes his chin playfully as he pretends to think about it, and you stare at him in mock upset at his hesitation. Laughing, he wraps you in a hug, pulling your naked body more level to his.

“You know, I think I need a second time to make sure…”

You playfully swat at his chest as he brings his lips to yours once more.

“Of course you are. You will always be better than all of the prizes and the ‘eternal glory’ promised to the winner.”

Luckily the two of you are covered by the sheets when the lock to the room clicks and the door swings open to reveal your brother with his hand over his eyes.

“I said talk it through! Imagine the Head Girl getting caught in such a compromising position.”

“I mean, you locked us in the Come and Go room, we just wanted to follow the directions.”

You bury your face in Yoongi’s neck, hiding your awkwardness at having been caught as your brother groans and shuts the door as he leaves.

“Is my girlfriend embarrassed?” Yoongi asks playfully, his hand soothing your hair down.

“Yes, mortified.”

“At least he approves.” He continues to joke as he pulls you up from the bed to get dressed once again.

“He better! He’s the reason you’re mine now.”

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as you gaze into the small mirror in the corner of the room.

“Don’t give him so much credit, baby. I put in a lot of hard work tonight.”

“Yes, you did, Triwizard Champion. It was all the proof I needed.”

His eyes soften at your reference to his feelings of inferiority, and he loves you that much more for reassuring him.

“I love you, YN.”

“I know.”

“Brat.”

“Let’s go, before we get caught.” You grasp his hand and pull him along back into the seventh floor corridor. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

He walks you back to the Fat Lady, kissing you goodbye sweetly before he descends to the dungeon, in hopes of getting a couple hours of sleep before he takes on his new roles as the Triwizard Champion, boyfriend to the Gryffindor Head Girl, YN.

thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated! i hope all of my magical people enjoyed this one!

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jeonqkooks · 2 years

Note

CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE BABY YOU DESERVE IT AND MORE!!!!!!!!

for the drabble game, can you write something w jungkook and these two quotes?

“i didn’t like the way they were looking at you” (s) and “how mad would you be if i kissed you?” (f)

THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!! CONGRATS AGAIN!!!!!

just friends | jjk

jungkook doesn’t like it when other people look at you the way he does.

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: friends to lovers, college au, fwb au, fluff, smut, semi-public sex, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t do it folks!), creampie, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, breast play, mention of alcohol consumption

word count: 2.2k

note: thank you so much and love you too babe!! and thank you for sending this in, i hope ya like it <33

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

As Jungkook approaches you, his glare burns holes into the back of the boy who was talking to you seconds ago.

“Who was that?” he asks, lightly bumping his hip against yours as he hands you your drink.

You send him an appreciative smile. “Yeonjun from my Sociology class.”

He hums in acknowledgement, nodding in response to the bit of information that you just dropped on him. “He’s got a little crush on you.”

“What? What makes you say that?”

He shrugs and places a hand on the small of your back. More brazen than usual when you’re out in public.

“Just a hunch.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” you scoff. As you sip on your drink, you make a face at the taste of vodka making its way down your throat. “And so what if he does? Are you jealous?”

Jungkook’s eyes wander to the corner where Yeonjun has scuttled to, casually chatting with some other people but still sneaking a glance in your direction once in a while. Jungkook doesn’t like it when the younger one’s eyes settle on your ass in those tight shorts you chose to wear tonight.

He ignores your question in favor of one of his own. “How mad would you be if I kissed you? Right here, right now. Let the whole campus know what we’ve been up to. Let Yeonjun know.”

He thinks it would be worth it to risk your anger. He wants to show you off to everyone at this party, send a reminder to all the sleazy guys who have been eyefucking you the moment you arrived that they will never be as lucky as he is; and a message to all the girls who have been trying to get his attention the whole night that they aren’t the one that he has eyes for.

Jungkook leans down slowly, and you think he’s really about to kiss you here in the middle of the party, but he just settles on pressing his lips against your cheek. “Come on,” he says, taking the cup in your hand and downing the contents of it. Before you can protest, he’s already tugging you out the door by your wrist.

He glances to the corner where Yeonjun’s eyes are still on the pair of you, and he enjoys the way the younger boy squirms under his dagger glare.

You don’t have time to settle into the backseat before Jungkook is already kissing you. He takes control of the situation quickly, planting his hands firmly on your hips to press you against the worn leather of the car. You both are a mess of awkward limbs in the small space of his vehicle, and your muscles will surely be a lot sorer than usual come tomorrow but you honestly couldn’t care less about that right now.

By the time his hands slip under your shirt and bra to fondle your tits, you’re positive that there’s already a mess between your legs. You moan against his lips and tug on his t-shirt, signalling that you want it off. Jungkook complies, and when he breaks away from your mouth to take off the black tee, you do the same to the fabric covering your upper body. You unhook your bra and throw it blindly over to the front seat along with your shirt, though you hope that it doesn’t land on the half-eaten box of fries that you were munching on before the party.

To your surprise, he doesn’t go back to kissing you. Instead, he maneuvers your body so that your back is pressed against the door and your lower half is angled toward him, who’s half kneeling on the floor. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when his hands settle on your shorts, popping the buttons and pulling the denim down your legs along with your soaked panties.

Jungkook smirks at the sight of your glistening core and licks a fat stripe through your folds, nudging your clit with his tongue when he reaches the sensitive nub. “Fuck…” you moan, carding your hands through his hair to push his face against your pussy.

Normally, whenever you and him fuck outside of the comfort of your or his apartment, it’s because of pure desperation. You’re both too impatient for foreplay, or for anything beside getting straight to business, right to the main course. In one of the bedrooms at a frat house, in a bathroom at a club or here, in the backseat of his car outside a house party—it’s always just “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” to satisfy your needs in fifteen minutes.

That’s why you’re slightly taken aback when he decided to eat you out now of all times and here of all places. Though you’re not exactly complaining; it feels heavenly how his mouth sucks on your clit while he pushes two fingers into your fluttering hole.

“Fuck, Jungkook ah,” you mewl, immediately clenching around his digits as they begin to pump in and out of you.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, smirking against your pussy and reveling in the wet sounds that reverberate around the car. “Feel good?”

Your words almost get swallowed as you choke on air. “So good,” you moan lewdly and palm one of your breasts, squeezing the supple flesh and rolling your nipple between your fingers while you grind against his face. The visual of you playing with your tits as he’s going on you makes his dick twitch, and he has to abandon his task of holding your thighs open to run a hand down to his crotch, palming the hard length over his jeans to relieve himself of some pressure.

Your back arches when Jungkook curls his slender digits within your walls, pressing against your g-spot and making you shut your eyes in pleasure. Your neck hurts a little in the cramped space but his tongue and fingers feel amazing, and euphoria overwhelms any sort of discomfort you’re sensing.

“I’m cumming, Kook ah, fuck–!”

Your entire body convulses as your orgasm hits, so powerful that he has to hold your hips down while his mouth fucks you through your high. “Good girl,” he praises, licking into you and lapping up all your juices.

When your heavy breathing starts to calm and stars have faded from behind your eyelids, he yanks you down by your thighs so that you’re lying on the seat. He pushes himself off from the floor to come up and hover over you, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands trail down his bare chest until you reach his belt and struggle to unbuckle it. He chuckles, breathing away from your mouth to undo his pants. “Still needy after that?”

You bite your lip and nod, gazing up at him with hooded eyes. Jungkook smirks above you, pulling down his jeans and boxer just enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his stomach. He gives it a few pumps and smears the precum collecting at the tip all over his length, before he leans down close to you, slotting his body between your legs and kissing you again.

You help him guide himself to your slickened entrance, and he swallows up your moans when his shaft breaches you. “Ah,” you sigh against his lips as he bottoms out swiftly.

Sounds of skin slapping fill the car when he begins to fuck you, a fast pace right from the start because he knows you can handle it. You’re insatiable for one another, and he always makes you feel so good that you keep coming back to him. You haven’t slept with anyone else in months now, but you don’t think he necessarily has to know that; it’ll only inflate his already gigantic ego.

“You say you don’t want people to know about us yet you’re letting me fuck you in my car. Anyone could walk out and see us right now,” he says gruffly as his cock pierces your quivering pussy, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “I’m beginning to think you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Want everyone to see how well you’re taking my cock? Want everyone to know that this pussy is all mine?”

Your walls clench around his length at the sound of that last word, and you know Jungkook can feel it too. You wrap your legs around his waist and push his pelvis flush against yours, letting him in deeper than before.

“Yes,” you cry out when he ducks down to your neck, finding your familiar sweet spot within seconds while his cock still slides in and out of you with ease. “Yes, I want them to know.”

You know he’s right; you have no doubt that if there’s anyone walking by right now, it wouldn’t be that difficult to figure out what’s happening in here. The fogged up windows, the way the car is shaking slightly with the force of his vigorous thrusts… Yeah, it wouldn’t take a genius to know.

As his hips rock into yours, you have a hard time keeping your voice down, but it’s not like you’ve been very quiet from the start. Jungkook snakes a hand down to your bundle of nerves, where he rubs your clit in languid circles, contrary to the pace of his cock pounding into you.

“Let them know baby,” he coos, still kissing your neck. “Let them know I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

And so you do, gripping his shoulders tightly and arching your back into his chest as your second orgasm rips through your body, engulfing you in pure bliss that only he can give you. His name falls off your lips in breathless chants, your release gushing out of you and soaking his cock in your essence. The added moisture helps him fuck into you even more easily, and coupled with the way your pussy squeezes him like a vice, it doesn’t take long before he’s reaching his own high.

“Fuck, baby!” he cries, hips stuttering as his eyes roll back, his face pushed into the side of your neck as he cums, hot ropes of white painting your walls.

It isn’t unusual for him to call you that during sex. Baby, good girl, angel… Jungkook has a variety of those, take your pick.

His body slumps against yours, incredibly muscular that you’re almost squashed underneath his weight. You push him off, making him steady himself on his forearms on either side of your head but still letting him remain inside of you.

“Hi,” you say, smiling at him lazily.

“Hi,” he returns, and ducks down to press a chaste kiss against your mouth.

When he pulls back, you ask, “What was that? You were… generous today.”

Jungkook takes his bottom lip between his teeth nervously, and in a small voice, he says, “I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head, confused.

“Yeonjun,” he clarifies.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you swat at his chest. “You’re still on about that? I told you, he’s just a friend.”

“He didn’t look at you like he’s just a friend.”

“How was he looking at me then?”

He takes a few seconds to answer, thinking over his reply in his head and deciding if he should say it.

“The same way I look at you,” he murmurs as he stares into your eyes. “Like he wants you.”

“Jungkook–”

“I…” He stumbles over his words, breaking your gaze to look away, pulling his body just a little further back from you. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Oh.

You swallow. For some reason, your heart sinks.

Is that what tonight was? A parting gift before he moves on to someone else? You’re disappointed, because he’s undoubtedly the best lay of your life, but other than that, you’re also… a little hurt.

You move to push him off you, embarrassed that your friend with benefits is dumping you here in his car while his dick is softening inside of you, but he pins your wrists down.

“I like you,” Jungkook declares when you struggle out of his hold. You stop, your eyes widening and your breath getting caught in your throat. “I want to be more than just your friend. I want to take you out. I want to hold your hand and I want to kiss you in front of everyone. Show everyone that you’re mine.”

You’re stunned, to say the least. All the pet names and all the times he lingers by your doorway after a booty call. All the times he grows irritated by other people blatantly checking you out in public just like tonight. You’ve just thought that it was an ego thing.

After a moment, his face falls. He just licks his lips and nods quietly at your silence. He pulls out of you and goes to retrieve his shirt, but you tug him back, bringing him close to you again. You cringe slightly, feeling your combined releases trickle out of you and onto the seat.

“Okay,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck and hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

Jungkook places a hesitant hand on your waist. “Okay what?”

“Okay to what you just said. All of it.”

“Yeah?” He moves back slightly to cup your face, bunny smile peaking through his previous crestfallen expression. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” you confirm softly. “I like you too.”

His eyes twinkle as he gazes down at you, shy smile breaking into a happy grin now. His face descends upon yours but before your lips could meet, there’s a knock on the window.

He moves to shield your naked body with his broad shoulders and rolls down the tinted glass just enough for the person outside to look at his face.

“Dude,” Yeonjun coughs awkwardly, “can you move your car? It’s blocking mine.”

— permanent taglist: @mi55delulu @fan-ati--c @highly-functioning-mitochondria @bruisedscrewedandtattooed @morauvmi @jeonjcngkook @shownusshoulders @jungkooksseuphoria @yoongukie-ff @curioughts @taegismochi @libra04 @hrts4kook @mwitsmejk @jeonsorchid @here4btsfics @mytearsriscochet

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #btswritingcafe #btscarnivalnet #btsdreamcourt #btshoneyhive #bangtaninn #clubzerooclock #52hertz

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lookingforluna · 2 years

Text

Hurtin' Me: 01 || jjk

❥ Pairing: Ex-FWB!Jungkook x Reader

❥ Word Count: 570 words

❥ Rating: M

❥ Genre: angst, future smut, romance, ex-friends with benefits, fuckboy!jungkook

❥ Warnings: explicit language, talk of sex

❥ Summary: All the girls on your campus knew not to get involved with Jungkook. Out of your roommates, he was known for stringing girls along and breaking their hearts. Sadly, that didn’t stop them from wanting him and pursuing him. You just so happened to be one of those girls too. Everything between you was a secret that not even your roommates knew about. Jungkook was the one who ended things before they went too far. Now you both must navigate living together peacefully without raising the suspicions of your roommates. To say it’s complicated would be the understatement of the year.

❥ A/N: This is the first part of a drabble series I decided to write in honor of Jungkook's birthday! I decided to make this into a drabble series because that would mean frequent updates. There is a taglist for this series at the bottom of this post! There is no smut in this first part, but you can expect it in the next update! Thank you for the support, and Happy Birthday Jungkook! <3

“So are you gonna tell us about her?” Taehyung asks as he leans against the kitchen island, Jimin next to him as the two watches Jungkook finish his cereal.

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you shovel another spoonful of french toast into your mouth. This was a weekly occurrence in your shared apartment. The three of them would gather at the kitchen counter on a Saturday morning to talk about their latest hookup. You swear they were just as bad as teenage girls.

“It didn’t get very far, honestly,” Jungkook shrugs while taking a sip of his banana milk. Your ears perk up at this particular statement finding it extremely out of character for Jungkook not to follow through with a girl.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t get it up,” Jimin laughs, clapping Taehyung on the back as he erupts into laughter as well.

The thought has a small smile forming at the corner of your lips, which you hope is discrete enough to go unnoticed by Jungkook or any of the boys. You take a quick sip of your water, enjoying the sweetness of the syrup washing away.

“No, it’s because I don’t deflower virgins.”

You knew this was karma for finding Jimin and Taehyung’s jokes funny because as soon as you hear that statement, you choke on the water causing all heads to turn to you.

“Damn, Y/N, you good?” Taehyung says while giving you an extra hard slap against your back and sending you into a fit of coughs. One thing about these boys is that they did not see you as a girl. To them, you were just one of the boys, which meant receiving the same treatment.

“Looks like someone forgot how to swallow?” Jungkook smirks while looking directly into your eyes.

If looks could kill, Jungkook was certain he would be dead from just your heated stare alone. If there was one thing he loved doing, it was pushing your buttons. He hadn’t planned on making such a sly remark to you, but after seeing that small smile on your lips, he had to.

“Oh fuck off,” you mumble while wiping your mouth with a napkin, collecting small drops of water that escaped from your choking fiasco.

“Anyways, please continue,” Jimin says, unfazed by your little moment.

Jungkook rises from his seat and makes his way over to the sink, his hands rolling up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal inches and inches of inked skin. Even though you saw them countless times, you were always hypnotized by his tattoo.

“Yea, why don’t you sleep with virgins?” Taehyung asks, genuinely curious and surprised by this new information.

Jungkook opens the faucet, wetting the sponge and squeezing some soap onto it before turning around. His eyes flicker to Taehyung and Jimin before settling onto yours and speaking.

“Because I’m not the right guy for someone’s first time.”

There’s not much that needs to be said after that. Taehyung and Jimin continue to speak to Jungkook, but everything they say just blends into the background of your thoughts as you pick up your plate. You decide to wait for Jungkook to finish washing his own dishes, but as you stand there, Jungkook reaches for your plate. His eyes soften as you avoid his gaze, looking at his throat instead.

“Thanks,” you mumble before walking away and leaving him to his thoughts.

❥ Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! I love to hear your thoughts 💙✨

❥ If you would like to be added to the taglist for future fics/series, please fill out any of these forms! ✨

❥ Here is a link to my Ko-fi page! Tips are not required at all, but they are greatly appreciated 💙✨

Taglist: @theresasaysthis @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @bjoriis @starbtslove @soeur-de-ame @angeltothecore @lidda @sabinesuss @ssaboala @trashlord-007

#loveyourselfnet #btsghostie #kpoparchives #bangtaninn #kvanity #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook series #jungkook drabble series #jeon jungkook #bts #bangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #hurtin’ me jungkook

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jimilter · 2 years

Text

holding you like this (m) | k.th. | one-shot

Taehyung didn't anticipate seeing you tonight, least of all with a date by your side, but he guesses it'll be okay because it has been over five years since he last saw you and he has moved on. But the air is far from cleared between you both. So when confrontations start to happen, all of the pain from his past he thought he had overcome makes itself known, unwelcome.

pairing: taehyung x reader rating: m (18+) genre: angst | smut | humor | estranged lovers!au | club owner!taehyung | journalist!reader warnings: swearing + misunderstandings + insecurity + angsty confrontations + heartbreak + allusions to infidelity + fainting due to stress + semi-public sex + explicit sexual situations (breast play, fingering, oral (m), penetrative sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation) <3 word count: 18 k

↣ for Resolution Revolution, an ny22 collab i co-hosted with my love, @knjsnoona! <3

note: this fic was meant to be a light-hearted one to contrast the sad trope i was assigned for the fest, and was to be posted in january – but then it underwent a world of changes (name and genre) and is now a gut-wrenching mess, being delivered five months late. i am so sorry. :|

the biggest thank you goes to my precious soybean @missgeniality for being my life support when i felt lost and had so many doubts abt this fic, and then also betaing it for me later, like a fairy godmother. this literally would not be here without you!!! ily 😭 also, thank you to my naifey bby @opaljm for naming the fic outta the payphone lyrics in, like, 5 seconds!!! ily <333

PS. the past scenes are in italics and written in past tense, but seamlessly blend (without a divider) into the fic’s present narrative, only differentiated by the present tense and non-italicised text, so pay attention to that!

i hope y'all masochists like the way this hurts~ 💜

dedicated ⇝ to ridzietta @taegularities <3 was supposed to be your late b'day present in jan, but guess now it's just an attempted payback for my broken kidneys. i love you, baby (:

— masterlist | feedback!

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Kim Taehyung peers over the balustrade of the ballroom – past the black and white balloons, lights, streamers and huge chandeliers that cast red and white shadows over the entire hall – with a disappointed frown.

"What?" asks the girl with the letter pad in her hands. "What is it, Mister Kim?"

An accusatory finger shoots up in the air, arm propped parallel to his shoulder as he points at the pair that just entered the hall.

"What guest list is she on?"

The party planner's wide eyes take in the object of his ire, squinting to get a better look, before she quickly turns back to her tab and makes a few successive clicks.

"Oh! She – she isn't on one, but—"

"Ha! Knew it! Why would she even—"

"—she's actually someone's plus one, Mister Kim."

Wait, what?

His scowl dissolves into an expression of shock, mouth forming an 'o' as he gawks at the party planner. "Who – whose plus one?"

The girl makes some more clicks and nods. "One of Mister Park's guests."

Of fucking course it'd be his own best friend stirring up a storm in his life. Taehyung should've strangled the idiot when they were ten – when Jimin didn't have so many muscles to one up him.

The girl next to him suddenly puts a finger to her comms, speaking discreetly, before turning to him with a guilty smile. "I have to take care of something, sir. But please, feel free to call me anytime if there's a problem."

Taehyung gives her a dismissive nod, eyes still stuck to the figure in the red gown floating through the crowd with an arm holding onto a man. He wills himself to look away before he is caught staring, but he kind of cannot.

He always used to love to see you dressed in red.

Something about the colour has always fit your fiery spirit just so perfectly. Fondness starts to seep into his mind along with recollections. He remembers how wearing red would reflect beautifully on your face, making your eyes sparkle with confidence. And as evident by your form moving about with your shoulders rolled back and head straight, that fact remains unchanged.

Taehyung also remembers this gorgeous red lipstick you always wore with this shade that made him lose a bit of his mind.

How he could never wait to ruin it.

How he did always ruin it before the end of the night, earning himself your whines of complaints that he would proceed to replace with whines of pleasure.

→ six years ago;

“Hm, that is a lovely shade of red on you,” Taehyung murmured into your hair, peeking into your reflection in the mirror as you applied your lipstick.

“Don’t shake my hand!” You shoved him away, rolling your eyes. “And this colour is literally the same shade as this dress you bought me…”

"Then my choice is lovely," he cheekily amended, raising his hands up in surrender when you glared at him through the mirror.

Taehyung stepped away, appreciating the curve of your ass in the fitted knee-length, halter neck dress he had bought for you to wear to the event you two were attending tonight. The naked span of your back called out to him, so he dipped his head to press a wet kiss in the middle of your spinal column, relishing the responding gasp and arch of your back you gave him.

“My lipstick’s gonna be ruined!”

Pants suddenly tightening at the unintended innuendo in your words, Taehyung grabbed you by the arm and twirled you around to press your ass into your vanity table, hips digging into your own. Your eyes looked surprised but also a shade darker than their natural disposition, and that was all the go-ahead he needed to capture your half painted lips in a searing kiss.

Length hardening and forehead breaking out in sweat, Taehyung’s tuxedo was starting to feel too tight, when your eager hands suddenly untucked his shirt to run up his torso. His teeth nipped at your tongue before tangling his own with it, fingers lifting the edge of your dress up to your waist to explore the ruined state of your panties.

“Tae,” your breathless gasp followed the smack of your detaching lips. “We’re gonna be late…”

His fingers made slow swirls over your wet panties, gaze stuck to yours as he slowly nodded. “Yes, we are. Do you wanna stop?”

You were such a sight with his favourite shade of red all over your mouth, but Taehyung would practice absolute control over his raging hormones if that was what you wanted. It wasn’t, though, confirmed by the whimper you let out with a quick shake of your head.

“Can we be qui–quick?” Your broken words were a result of intense arousal and not shyness, he knew, because you were anything but shy about your sexual desires.

Pressing a huffing laugh into your shoulder, he shook his head. “You know I can’t be quick, baby. Especially not now, when your ruined lipstick is making me want to see it painted elsewhere…”

You whined, craning your neck when he sucked on the flesh of your throat beneath your jaw. “Wh–where?”

“My cock.”

And without any hesitation, you had stripped off your dress, knelt before him in just your very matching pair of lingerie, and proceeded to let him fuck your throat without complaints, if some quality sounds of pleasure. You’d been an hour late to the event, but neither of you had cared.

A shiver runs up his spine at the ghost of your sounds suddenly echoing in his head, and Taehyung snaps out of it with a shake of his head.

All of it is in the past now. Distant past.

Taehyung forces his lips down to a straight line, angry at himself for reacting like a lovelorn idiot. You and your relationship is behind him, way behind him, and that's where it should stay. And despite your unexpected presence here tonight, that is where it remains.

It does, right?

Of course, it does. It has to.

He’d be a pathetic idiot to still swoon over your strapless, form-fitted red gown when you are here with a date that is not him, because you broke up with him, five years ago. And maybe half a decade should normally be enough time to stop resenting someone for an ended relationship, but Taehyung has not been able to trust another person again after the way you broke his heart and walked out of his life. But that doesn't mean he hasn't moved on; because he has. He may not have been able to fully commit, but he sure has had short affairs and flings whenever he has wanted to, which have all helped him get over you. He has stopped thinking about you; stopped caring, stopped missing you, stopped giving a damn. Like any sane person would.

So he doesn’t swoon over you, despite his initial reaction. Not at all, not even a little bit.

Because he shouldn't – he wouldn't, because you chose to walk all over his heart on your way out of his life. He doesn’t even swoon when you flip your waist-length hair over a bare shoulder, not when your sparkling eyes sweep all-over the place and not even when you give a loud laugh with your head thrown back – and that is a huge feat in his books for which he gives himself a mental pat on his back.

“Ow!” he yelps, startled at how real the pat on the back felt – and how strong?

“Save any remaining self-respect you have and stop fucking ogling her when she’s here with a date,” comes a reprimanding hiss in a very familiar voice.

Taehyung turns around to scowl at Jimin. “I wasn’t ogling her.”

“Sure.” His best friend looks at him unamused, lifting the champagne flute in his hand to Taehyung’s eye-level. “And this isn’t my eighth glass of the night.”

“Wait—eighth? You okay, bro?” Concerned, he looks Park Jimin up and down, wide eyed. Did the guy recently face some emotional crisis that he hasn’t told Taehyung about? He looks fine on the surface—

“For fuck’s sake, Tae.” Jimin rolls his eyes with a groan. “Stop looking so worried, I’m fine. I just despise these high-society… things.” He grimaces, gaze making a round of the entire venue. “You already know that.”

“Well we kinda have to have these things, buddy, because running a club isn’t all about training bartenders,” Taehyung reminds the other man, chuckling when he receives a petulant pout in return. “Chim, you still won’t let Jungwon make you your strawberry daiquiri! It’s, like, the most simplest cocktail ever! Let the kid live!”

“Hey!” Jimin narrows his eyes in challenge, downing the champagne in a quick gulp – Taehyung covertly winces at the sight – and reminds Taehyung that, “running a club isn’t all about auditioning performers, either! You went through fourteen acts and didn’t like a single one, remember, Mister Genius Entrepreneur?”

Taehyung would have responded with another remark, maybe brought Jimin’s attention to the fact that his own actions were more justified because he actually went to a performing arts school unlike Jimin who is a business major meddling with mixing drinks and being a perfectionist – but, he is suddenly reminded of the reason why he was ogling-or-not-ogling you.

"Hey, who the fuck is that buff-ass guy she's here with, anyway?" he asks the man with a scowl, plucking a champagne flute from a passing-by waiter, swatting at Jimin's hand when he moves to pick one. "And enough with the drinking!"

Rolling his eyes, Jimin glances over the railing at you, frowning in concentration. "Hm… I don't exactly recognise him? Maybe he's someone from dad's company."

"Your dad's—" Taehyung cuts himself off to release a strangulated groan. "Jimin. Why do we have people from your dad's company here?"

The man has the audacity to shrug his shoulders. "You said we needed a crowd to make an impression."

Taehyung wants to punch a wall but diverts the urge with punching his best friend's bicep – no less firmer than a wall, though – and rakes a flustered hand through his hair, before immediately realising he got it done at a salon today and he just flushed down the toilet the entire two-something hours he had to sit still for this. The wince Jimin gives him confirms his suspicion, and he hangs his head to let his best friend attempt to coif the disturbed strands back in their place.

“Nope, it’s a bird’s nest now,” Jimin announces after a few seconds’ efforts, kind-hearted as always.

“Well, it is your fault for calling in people from your dad’s office!”

“Hey, people from my dad’s office did not ruin your hair, that was all you!”

Taehyung feels petulant enough to gear up to paw at Jimin’s own head of set hair in revenge, fingers twitching at his side, but he never gets the chance to attack – a jovial ‘hello’ directed at both him and Jimin grabbing his attention.

Jimin peeks past him and Taehyung looks over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised in intrigue. Only to freeze.

It’s… you.

Well, technically, it’s your date, but you’re very much attached to his arm, looking at Taehyung with a blank face and seeming as much at ease as he wishes he was. Because he is not. Hasn’t been since his eyes found you, and truth be told? Hasn’t been ever since you parted ways from him because you have ruined him for another real relationship, but he isn’t ready to have that mental talk yet.

Struggling, he works hard to keep his eyes off you and focused on your date, a guy seemingly around his age, if a bit younger.

And an absolute high-class jerk by the looks of his Louis Vuitton suit, Dolce Gabbana loafers and freaking sunglasses he’s wearing indoors. Granted, the ballroom is extraordinarily bright with all the golden chandeliers, but come on. How much of this orange pair of sunglasses actually prevents brightness and how much of it is just snobby fashion? Looking closely, Taehyung notices a lip ring on the guy’s bottom lip and a row of small stones running from his earlobe to the upper lobe area.

Well, now he's just confused. The LV suit does not match the guy’s street fighter jewellery at all. Just what the hell kind of guys have you been dating?

“Uhm, hello there!” Jimin loudly greets, extending a hand and elbowing Taehyung none too gently, knocking him out of the contorted expressions of distaste he wears. “Park Jimin, one half of the founders of Dionysus. Welcome to the gala!”

The rich asshole flashes a surprisingly guileless grin at Taehyung’s best friend. “You don’t need an introduction, Mister Park,” he laughs, voice higher pitched than would suit his burly frame. “Jeon Jungkook, interning as a Data Analyst at your dad’s company.”

Ugh, yeah right. As if the internship is what has got him all this wealth this guy is showing off. And the most generic post, too – Data Analyst? Taehyung can bet he pulled the name up on the spot.

“Wow, really? That’s amazing!”

Taehyung’s head snaps to look at Jimin in shock at the sincere happiness in the guy’s voice. Why? This is the enemy!

Wait.

No – that is not what he is supposed to be thinking! What the hell is he doing? Your date is not his competition, because he doesn't even want you. He'd be crazy to, after you left him without giving him the second chance he begged for. He doesn't want it now, it's too late.

It… is too late, right?

Maybe? Probably?

Oh, God, does he still want you? Apparently the answer isn't as much of a clear cut negation as he'd thought it would be.

His eyes jump back to you, aware he’s scanning your face like a forlorn lover but unable to mask his eyes when he just found out he isn't over you the way he has been thinking he was. You seem to be resolutely not looking his way but he chooses to take advantage of it and save every bit of you to his memory. You blocked him on all of social media the day you broke up with him and he had enough dignity to not stalk your friends and connections.

He’s basically seeing you after five whole years.

Your high cheekbones and round cheeks are rouged with colour just the way he knew they’d be because you tend to get warm in indoors gatherings. The fullness of your lips is painted a gorgeous wine red to complement the brighter shade of your off shoulders silk dress, just as he knew it would be. Your lashes fan up to your strong eyebrows, making you look every bit like the Goddess you are. You’re probably wearing heels because you stand taller than usual, coming up closer to his face – just the perfect height for him to tilt his face and—

No.

He gives a harsh blink and snaps his head away from you, tuning back into the conversation happening around them. You aren’t his ex – you’re Jimin’s dad’s employee’s date. He would do well to remember that.

Taehyung watches as you respond to Jimin's greeting, your smile so awkward, even the guy's giggles cannot cover up the grimace that sets upon his face. You and Jimin used to be close when Taehyung and you were together. His best friend decided to distance himself from you, too, as his way of comforting Taehyung. Which he appreciates a lot.

“Can I speak to you in private for a moment, Mister Park?” your date requests, garnering Taehyung's gaze on the guy again.

"Yeah, of course!” Jimin readily nods, probably looking for a way out of this uncomfortable exchange, even though he looks slightly confused just as Taehyung feels. “And please, call me Jimin. Mister Park is my dad.”

Chuckling, the two of them step away, leaving Taehyung standing with a gaping mouth next to you. Jimin looks over his shoulder with a meaningfully raised eyebrow.

“You gonna be okay?”

No. No, he doesn’t think so. He just found out he isn’t as immune to your presence as he thought five years would have made him, and that isn’t okay at all.

But he isn’t going to be a baby about it, not when he’s the host of the night. So he rolls his shoulders back and flashes his best friend a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Jimin walks away with your date, leaving Taehyung to awkwardly fidget with his hands. He looks at you from the corner of his eye – to immediately look away when he accidentally meets your gaze. In his peripheral vision, you seem to be fidgeting just as he is, eyes running all across the place to stay away from him.

God, this is so awkward. And dumb.

He clears his throat. “Uh… so…”

His gaze moves to the public on the lower floor to find something to talk about. Oh, there’s a waiter!

Taehyung looks at you, eyes huge and lower lip tucked into his mouth. “Can I get you something to drink, or…?”

You don’t look at him, simply leaning around him to pick up a glass from a tray he had no idea was kept next to him. “No, thanks,” you address him for the first time tonight – your first words to him after more than five years, “already got one.”

Rolling back on his heels, he nods to himself, hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers. What the hell is the 101 for talking to an estranged ex whom he might still have remnant feelings for? Does he make small talk? Ask you how you’ve been? Pretend you’re strangers? Ask you about your date? Tell you about what he’s been doing with his life ever since you parted ways from him?

Ask you to take him back?

Okay, yeah, definitely not that one.

Ugh. This is terrible.

Taehyung stares at you, long and hard, trying to come up with something better to say – something to get you to stop being so dismissive with him. But all that he finds filling his head are thoughts of how much you’ve changed over the time you’ve spent away from you. His gaze traces the slight crows feet next to your eyes, the slight sunken feel to your eyes, tightness around your mouth, narrowing of your nose. You’re wearing heavier than usual makeup. But then again, many of your ‘usuals’ ought to have changed now.

Unwittingly, he catches the sight of your empty wrist and is immediately reminded of the matching charms bracelets you’d bought the two of you. Even though he doesn’t wear it anymore – because, well, he thought he had moved on – he still has it safely kept in a locker, back at home.

He wonders if you threw yours away. Maybe he should, too. Would help with the indifference he's trying to achieve.

Clearing his throat when the awkward silence becomes suffocating, Taehyung chooses the safest path and talks about the club.

“I and Jimin had been planning Dionysus for over a year,” he begins, doing a mental fist pump when your gaze immediately flicks to him. “Feels good to be finally launching it."

Your gaze seems to soften slightly. Pulling the glass from your lips, you clear your throat and nod as you look away. "Congratulations." You jerk your chin towards the lower floor that is bustling with people. "Seems like a successful launch."

Instantly bashful at the subtle praise, his hand self-consciously goes to his hair – before he remembers how he has already messed it up. He makes a detour to his neck, cupping his fingers around the back beneath the suddenly too tight collar of his shirt.

“Well, uh, yeah. Thanks.”

His lips purse into a smile, yours don’t.

Taehyung wonders if you still simmer with the anger you'd unleashed on him when you left him. You look like you do, although he doesn't find it justified. If he was the one that hurt the two of you, you broke his heart too when you walked away. But he is trying his best to be polite, isn't he? What did he do to you worse than what you did to him?

→ five years ago;

“Why didn’t you come?”

Your face remained unchanged and Taehyung’s temper shot through the roof.

“I asked you a fucking question!”

“I heard you!” you yelled back just as loudly, one hand balled into a tight fist while the other leisurely carried the glass of wine to and fro between your lips and the kitchen island. “And chose to ignore you.”

“What the—” Taehyung cut himself off with gritted teeth, raking his fingers through his gelled hair and disrupting the hairdo. He roughly undid his tie and stalked up to you on angry feet. “I texted to ask if you needed me to send you a car, you said you would come by yourself, so why the fuck did you not?”

You shrugged your shoulders and carelessly let your silk gown slip off one of them, revealing the thin strap of your negligee to him. In a normal situation, the sight would have been enough to make Taehyung forget about all else and tear your clothes off to have you right there, in the middle of the kitchen. He had done it multiple times in the past. But today was different – today he was furious and embarrassed and disappointed. It was the success party of his dream variety show having collected impressive ratings in just the first week of its run, and he had needed you by his side to celebrate it fully.

But you didn’t show up at the damn venue.

And now you were here, back at your shared apartment, drinking freaking wine at 3 am of the night and acting as if it wasn’t a big deal that you skipped one of the most special celebrations of his life over some petty anger.

Sighing tiredly, Taehyung stepped away from you to shed more of his clothes until he was just in his pants and had his shirt hanging off his frame, unbuttoned. His stripped off garments were piled on the sofa, to be collected later when he finally went upstairs to your shared bedroom

Then he turned to look at you, only to click his tongue when he found you sitting in your place with a bored expression on your face. Walking up to your figure, he snatched the alcohol from your hand and glared down at your surprised face. This had been going on for months now and needed to stop.

“What is it? Why are you being like this? What do you want?”

Your face crumpled with a ton of sadness suddenly puncturing it, and even though you quickened to straighten your expressions into annoyance, Taehyung caught the slip. He could tell you were definitely about to lie to him. He just didn’t get why.

"I called you to tell you I won't be coming because I have an urgent, early flight to catch," you told him in a tight voice. "And guess what? Your assistant picked up the phone."

Taehyung threw his head back. Not this again. Your insecurity over his assistant was really uncharacteristic of you – and really stupid, because Somi was just a delusional kid who would someday grow up to realise Taehyung wasn't interested in anyone but you and stop with her meaningless little games she played around him.

You used to make fun of such women with him, in the past. What had changed? What was suddenly so different about this one person that you acted this way?

"Well, yeah. As I've told you before, she handles my phone when I'm busy. It's kinda the point of her being my assistant."

He could see your jaw working, the tight grip you had on the wine glass.

"Babe? What is going on?"

"Nothing, Tae," you gritted the words out. "Absolutely nothing's going on. My flight is at five, I need to go pack."

He frowned when you got up and tried to walk past him, and stopped you with a grasp of your elbow. "Hey, hey – can we talk? Please?"

You stayed frozen, looking away from him, so he spoke on.

"Um, where are you going? How long will you be?"

At that, you shrugged out of his grip. "Vienna. We're interviewing some Korean immigrants our team located last week."

"Ah, I see. How long will you be gone for?"

"Any time between three weeks to two months."

Two months? Taehyung roughly swallowed at the prospect of being away for that long. Things had been decidedly rocky between you both. How damaging could two months' distance be? Given your current state of agitation, he wasn't sure you'd even keep in touch with him.

Another thought suddenly occurred to him and his blood almost ran cold.

Was your so-called boss gonna be there with you? He had to know, even if it made him lose his mind.

"You're – you're going with a team, yeah?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Hoseok is going, too, he's leading us. That's what you wanna know, right?"

So he was going. Freaking Hoseok would be there with you, on a foreign land, and you would be there with him and forget about Taehyung completely. The way you always did in the guy's presence.

"Stop looking at me with so much disgust, he's my boss. I can't tell him not to go."

Taehyung scoffed as you moved towards the bedroom. "Yeah. As if you'd even want to."

You whirled around. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Taehyung was pretty sure he didn't need to explain that to you. He'd been hinting at it since September – he'd been explicitly saying it since October, since the freaking Halloween party your office had. So he didn't need to say anything anymore.

"What is this really about, babe? You didn't come to the celebration, you didn't even congratulate me, not once, and now you're leaving for weeks, possible months?"

You stared at him. "What could this be about, Taehyung?"

"Are you – are you trying to distance yourself?"

And there was that sadness suddenly crowding your face again.

And then you pushed it away again.

"Do you want me to?

You were talking in circles. "Babe. Please. If you leave when we're like this—"

"We've been like this for months, Taehyung!" You burst at him. "And nothing's gonna change, as long as you have that leech of an assistant trying to woo her way into your pants or whatever!"

Taehyung couldn't believe his ears. You were that bothered by that stupid girl? He would have let go of her in a heartbeat if he'd known. He still could – he would. But instead of telling you that, he decided to choose the path of pettiness.

"Yeah? And what about the way you can't help following wherever your boss leads you?"

"I can't quit my job, Tae!"

"And I can't fire my assistant!"

Silence prevailed after that. You glared at him, and he glared back. Until you just dropped all the aggression and looked at him with a cold stare.

"You know what? Maybe a little distance away from each other is exactly what we need right now."

The sucker-punch was delivered with your poker face, one that he was coming to hate with a passion now. Almost gasping for air, he shook his head, bewildered. “Wh–what? Distance?”

“Yes. We barely see each other. And when we do, we fight. All we do is disappoint each other, Taehyung. What are we doing in this farce of a relationship beyond hurting each other? I think it's better if we took some time off.”

It wasn’t the words you said that broke him – it was the ease with which you said them to him.

Taehyung wasn’t faultless, far from it. He forgot special days, skipped dinners, postponed dates. But he was trying to pursue his dream; a dream he had dreamt with you since you both started dating in college. You knew what this was gonna be like, and he felt like he had actually been doing better in the relationship than his expectations. Sure, he had his moments and got irrational sometimes – like he knew he was being about this entire Hoseok debacle – but that was only because he was under a lot of stress all the time. Just some comforting words and an embrace from you always had him back to being his normal self.

Did you not see it that way?

He loved you with his entire heart and soul, despite all his shortcomings.

Did you not care about that?

“D–don’t call it a farce…”

“Then let me wave out of it,” you bluntly said to him, raising your chin to let him glimpse into your eyes that held so much frustration, they gave him a physical push away from you. "Clean out the apartment before I'm back. Let's give each other space, yeah?"

Were you that unhappy with him?

What the hell was he doing to you?

“Baby… can – can we talk about this?”

“When? You don’t have time to talk about this, Tae. To talk about anything.” You shook your head, face blank and jaw gritted. “And let’s be honest, here. We went past the point of talking on your birthday, already.”

Taehyung groaned aloud, throwing his head back in sheer frustration. “This again?”

“No. I’m not starting anything, I’m just… trying to end it.”

And so you did.

Taehyung has never been the type to give up on people or situations easily, so that wasn’t the last of that conversation you both had. There were multiple attempts he made to get you to tell him what was actually bothering you because he always felt – and still does – that you said less than you wanted to, that day.

All of it fell on deaf ears, though, because you never came back to the apartment until he'd moved out, and blocked him on every social media platform when he got busy with shootings within the next few weeks.

He looks at you and sighs. How damn stupid of him is it to feel soft for you because he suspects there was more to your break up than you just throwing in the towel? Because that is what it comes down to – you made big commitments and promises about braving the hardships and supporting him through it all, but gave up because of doubts and frustrations when the two of you needed to stand strong.

And now he is gazing at you like a miserable fool, expecting you to do God knows what.

With another awkwardly cleared throat, Taehyung deduces he cannot keep standing here like a damn idiot. He points towards the side of the ballroom downstairs.

“Do you, like, wanna sit? Maybe? We – we have sofas and booths here?”

Wow. Way to go with them communications skills. Taehyung pulls his lips into his mouth, resisting the urge to throw himself off the balustrade in embarrassment.

You do nothing to ease his dumb fumbling, simple flipping your hair over your shoulder so that they swish over your cleavage to brush your breasts. They’ve gotten so much longer than he remembers.

“I will if I want to.”

For real? Okay, this is no good.

Your anger very obviously still burns as hot as it did the night you decided to throw him out of your life. He cannot navigate around this the easy way, he needs to change his tactics a bit if he’s going to survive this night without you murdering him. Maybe he should pretend you both are strangers. Treat you like he would any other attendee of the gala.

The clicking of your tongue brings him back, your irritated frown greeting him when he focuses on your face. “Are you babysitting me? I’ll be fine, you may go take care of whatever you need to.”

“Well, what I need to take care of is the guests,” Taehyung tells you with a shrug, not letting your cold remark get to him, but the soft feelings your presence had started to induce in him seem to be evaporating as time passes.

“Technically, I’m Jimin’s guest, not yours. You don’t have to keep hovering around me.”

“Oh, my God,” he groans, hitting the limit with your attitude.

The irritation he was hit with when he spotted you at this gathering is beginning to spike again. He wonders if he actually doesn't have any lingering affection for you at all – if it’s just nostalgia that he misinterpreted. You did break his heart and disregarded all his apologies and begging, he’s got every right to not give a damn about you.

And he gets your anger – he got it when you hurled it at him repeatedly, five years ago; and he gets it now – but insulting him in his own celebration isn’t okay. Especially when you could very well not interact with him at all and walk away any time. He notices how you keep trying to send him away but make no moves to leave yourself.

If this is an ego thing for you – well, he’s got an ego, too.

He calls your name with a tight voice. “You’re at a party that I am hosting with Jimin. You’re my guest, too, whether you like it or not. So you’ve got to let me be an accommodating host without reacting so rudely to everything I say.”

Fury beams from your eyes into his, but he braves it with unimpressed, furrowed brows. He remembers this look on your face more than he does your smile, as pitiful as the fact is. And so he knows you’ve reached a point in your fury where you stop arguing anymore. When you two were in a relationship, this used to piss him off like anything. But right now, it is kinda suiting his situation well.

You give him a terse nod.

“Thank you,” he mutters, exhaling in relief. “Now. Your date’s off with Jimin to talk about God knows what, so you can either stare around boredly and regret agreeing to coming here, or you can let me guide you to a comfortable sitting nook where you can have drinks and snacks delivered to you. Until Jeon comes back for you, that is.”

This time you’re the one that exhales, losing some lines from your face. “I don't want to cause drama or be a bitch. I just… didn’t expect to see you here. This is uncomfortable and disappointing.”

Ouch? Well. At least he tried to be nice, right?

“Right, okay… likewise.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, walking around you to step towards the stairwell that leads downstairs. “Come along.”

Every now and then, he peeks over his shoulder to check if you’re following, feeling more than a little satisfied to find you staring at the back of his head each time. Yes, you aren’t the only one with an attitude.

On reaching the downstairs landing, he is in the process of moving towards the ballroom when you call out his name. He twists on his heels with raised eyebrows to find you pointing towards a slightly dark hallway behind the stairs, an intrigued and somewhat suspicious look on your face.

“Does that lead to a secret wing of the house, or something?”

Taehyung barks a bout of laughter. “No. That’s an indoor connection to the club.”

Your head whips to look at him with wide eyes. “The club is… here?”

“I mean, yeah? Kind of.” He points downwards with a finger. “This is Jimin’s place, so he wanted an internal route to—”

“Wait, this is Jimin’s place?” Your eyes are wider than before.

Inhaling deeply once, he pushes his tongue into his cheek as he stares at you with narrowed eyes. Did you even know what function your ‘date’ was bringing you to?

“I – I mean, it looks like a… well. A castle, to be honest,” you muse in wonder, looking up at the high ceilings.

Taehyung follows your gaze, nodding slowly. “It is, yeah. It’s also got a museum on one side that has all the ancient stuff from the era of the monarch that used to live here.”

For the first time tonight, you seem to be actually listening to him. And despite all the bitterness and anger he feels, he cannot hold back the soft smile that breaks out onto his face at the sight of your parted lips.

“Jimin lives in a museum?”

This time, Taehyung lets out a full belly laugh. “This is not Jimin’s home! I meant he bought the building. So it’s more like a – a vacation house, I guess. He doesn’t live here but comes around a lot. This castle is why we picked this place for Dionysus. The museum gathers a good amount of tourists. They could all use a drink and a good space to wind down after their excursions.”

You nod distractedly, still looking towards the hallway as you step down to the floor and off the last stair. Taehyung walks up to stand in front of you, smirking at the fascination on your face. You could be old and ageing, but this look of childlike wonder will always look the same on you. It has remained unchanged in the twelve-something years he has known you for.

“Do you wanna see?”

You blink, leaning away. “See – see what?”

“The club?”

You don’t say a word, quietly gulping, and look in the previous direction past his shoulders. Taehyung snorts at the innocence you unwittingly elude, sighing at the fondness that unfurls in his chest despite all the heartache.

“Come on.”

He walks ahead and you follow him, the dimly lit hallway echoing with the clack of your heels. Then you hum.

“This part of the town is somewhat secluded, almost at the city borders. How are you maintaining security here?”

Taehyung’s lips curve up in a secret, melancholic smile. You always had so many questions about everything. It makes him feel endeared and delivers a pinch to his heart all the same. He misses you – but he also doesn’t, because the you that he misses has been left in the past, beneath all the scowls and brimming disappointment you had come to be full of during the last few months of your relationship.

He sighs, focussing his thoughts on your question.

“Well. We have come up with a lot of new tech and Jimin arranged for a top notch security staff. His dad’s friends with this Kim Seok-something guy… he might be here tonight, actually. So, there is only a sure shot way of getting into the club, no stragglers can wander in.”

At the end of the hallway is a glass door, guarded by two really tall, really buff men. Next to the door, a steel box is mounted to the wall – the most important piece of equipment about Dionysus, coming up with which with their team of engineers took almost as long as constructing the infrastructure.

“Here!” Taehyung announces, gesturing towards the box with both hands. “This is the machine that will read your entry pass.”

You blink at him. “I don’t… have an entry pass?”

He nods, pointing at one of the guards. “Josh, our passes, please?”

The man gives a small bow to Taehyung and produces a mechanised stamp that looks like a tiny taser, clicking on a button. Taehyung lifts the cuff of his suit jacket and shirt to present the skin of his wrist to the stamp, and Josh leaves a QR code on his skin.

“Woah!” Your exclamation resounds from behind him. “That’s gonna get people into the club?”

"Yep." He turns to you with a proud grin. “Move in or out of the club. New tech, right?”

“Damn,” you mutter, looking impressed as you forward your own wrist to Josh.

Taehyung shakes his head. “Uh, no, not like this. The stamp needs to stay covered with a piece of clothing or the neon lights inside can spoil it and you won’t be able to leave.”

Both arms extended in front of you, you look at yourself. “I don’t have a sleeve… or a collar.”

His own eyes sweep down your form, tongue coming out to wet his lips at the sight of your flared hips and full breasts encased in this fitted cloth in his favourite colour. Clearing his throat at how perverted he is being, he quickly looks away and searches his pockets for a handkerchief, only to come up empty.

“Well… maybe beneath the neckline?” you question, frowning at the layer of the dress covering your cleavage.

Josh shrugs a shoulder, eyeing Taehyung. “Could work?”

Taehyung looks at your neckline which is seriously so low, he isn't sure how something can be placed beneath this without compromising your modesty. He nods, almost in a daze, unable to move his gaze off the curves of the tops of your breasts as he now starts to wonder how this dress is even staying up.

But when you begin to peel the cloth an inch down the slope of your chest and Josh’s hand moves towards you, Taehyung jumps into action and grips the guard’s wrist. Shooting a really unwarranted glare at the man, he plucks the device off his hands. “Let me.”

He moves to carefully stand before you, eyes meeting yours in slight panic when it finally registers to him how he got really unnecessarily protective over his ex from years back. What the heck must you think of him? He can’t read much of your opinion in your gaze, your eyes looking mostly awash with shock, staring at him unblinkingly.

Moving forward with the stamp, he watches your throat move in a rough swallow, body visibly tensing when he steps even closer to you. His keen eyes observe every single movement in your person, scanning the way your eyelids flutter, the way your lips puff out short breaths, the way your chest moves up and down rapidly. He wonders if you are breathless as he is.

He looks at your supple flesh, inching his hand forward at snail's pace. The smooth texture of your skin, the rounded curve – he is transfixed, aware that if he rolled the dress another two inches down, he would be able to see your nipple. He wonders if it will be hard already due to the air-conditioning, or if it would puff up his stare. Under his touch, maybe? Definitely under his tongue…

“T—Taehyung?”

He jolts out of his extremely inappropriate thoughts, gaze snapping up to your face in horror. You hold the same expressions as before, looking even more breathless.

But Taehyung remembers himself.

Leaning a few inches away from you, he reminds himself of where you both stand in your current lives – you aren't the woman he was in love with, you're one of Jimin's guests at this party, and you have come here with a date. He has no right to be thinking these thoughts and you honestly shouldn’t be entertaining him with these large eyes. Doesn't mean it makes it any less worse of him to be coming onto you.

You have moved on. And he is supposed to have, too.

Channelling maturity and practising restraint, both of which he didn't know he possessed, Taehyung grinds his teeth and holds the stamp over your skin. He pushes the button, eyes resolutely looking just at the QR code as it gets printed on your skin.

"There," he breathes, deflating in relief, and jumps away from you as soon as he's done, as if burned by the proximity.

Well, he might actually be. He feels pretty singed, if he is being honest.

Stuffing the stamp back into its holder, he flashes the code on his wrist in front of the scanner on another face of the box. A ping resounds around him and the door unlocks.

"Did you see?" he asks over his shoulder. "Put the stamp within a foot's distance from the scanner."

You step up next to the box, the door locking within five seconds of no entry, and angle your chest close to the scanner. Due to the dim lights, Taehyung isn't sure if it's his stupid wishful thinking or if you actually look a bit shaken up.

A ping echoes in the hallway, and the door gives. With something akin to sparkle in your eyes, you skip through the doorway with a grin.

"This is fantastic!"

Taehyung scans his own stamp and slides in after you.

"And, we're in!" he announces, falling in step next to you and looks straight ahead to avoid the adorable excitement that is sure to be etched on your face. "Wanna look around?"

You hum, footsteps falling slightly behind his own as he guides you around the place.

Taehyung finds himself entranced everytime he walks through Dionysus. It's still hard to believe that all the plans he and Jimin pored over, sometimes pulling all-nighters to come up with innovative ideas, have finally taken a corporeal form. Every colour, texture and material of everything used in constructing this place has been chosen by him and approved by Jimin, or vice versa. Well, more vice versa because despite his own field of study being far removed from construction, he still has quite a good idea for these things due to his dad's company.

Sighing at the reminder of the man that has caused more troubles in his life than he can count, Taehyung clears his throat and looks over you.

Unwittingly, his mind travels back in time for the third time tonight. You always sported a shorter hairstyle when the two of you were together. And though Taehyung has absolutely adored every hairstyle you have worn – would have loved you without hair, too, he’s certain – there’s something about seeing you in waist-length hair that makes something ache in his chest.

→ eight years ago;

“Are you never gonna grow your hair out?”

Your mirthy eyes squinted with laughter as you swooped towards him to kiss his pouty lips. “Long hair requires maintenance that I don’t have the time to spare for, baby, you know it.” You brushed a hand through your shoulder length tresses, raising your eyebrows. “Thought you liked me with short hair?”

“I do.” Taehyung nodded, fitting his head in your lap. “But… we’ve been out of the college for over a year… don’t you wanna, like, make those high buns and wear gowns on our dates sometimes?”

You cackled at his words, head leaning away with the force of your giggles. “Do you want me to make buns and wear gowns, Tae?”

He could feel his cheeks warming up, but said nothing.

“Tae baby,” you sighed. “I’m trying to find my footing in the ever-changing world of journalism and work at an NGO. I don't even have time to comb my hair, half the days, now when it's so manageable. How will I do it for long hair?"

“I can do it for you?”

The meek offer was out before Taehyung could pause to even really think what it meant. Your eyes were wide as you bent your head to look at him.

“Are you serious? You want me to have long hair that bad?”

Bashful and a little embarrassed, he sat up and shook his head in negation, avoiding your eyes at all costs. “No, of course not. I just… I meant if the only reason is that you can’t take care of it, I can do it for you.” He looked into your eyes then. “I can always take care of everything for you whenever it gets too much for you, you know that right?”

Eyes misty and smile quivering, you had captured his lips at that and promised him you’d grow your hair out for him whenever life gave you a second to breathe.

And apparently, your breather came after you ended things with him. Figures.

Sighing morosely, Taehyung eyes the way your steps are a bit off in your heels, and he very casually points at the seating area to one side, thinking nothing of his words as he suggests, “Have a sit if you need to relax your calves.”

He doesn’t realise anything is strange until he sees that you’ve stopped walking and are giving him a long look. That is when his eyes widen.

You were never fond of wearing heels. At most an hour, and then you would be taking off your footwear and finding some cosy place to sit where Taehyung would find you and give your feet and calves a massage. That often led to the two of you sneaking off to continue the massage in a more private setting.

Shit.

He’s about to explain that he didn’t mean it like that when your stare wavers, nostrils flaring as you clear your throat. “No, I’m okay. Does your club have a bar?”

For a moment, it felt like he had you on the same page as himself. But now you’ve closed the book.

“And a bartender,” Taehyung sighs, sliding his hands in his pocket to lead you to the bar.

“Hyung!” Jungwon grins, waving at him before he spots you and drops into a bow. “Good evening, ma’am! Welcome to Dionysus! Are you having a nice night?”

Chuckling at the enthusiastic greeting, Taehyung turns to look at you, landing in confusion when he sees you squinting at Jungwon in extreme suspicion. Taehyung calls your name, and you simply tilt your head, examining the boy more closely.

“How old are you, Jungwon?”

The kid’s eyes jump as wide as Taehyung’s own. “Uh…”

“You do not look eighteen, kid.”

He isn’t. And of course you would realise it.

“I… I will turn eighteen in March.”

“Well then you can work the bar in March, kid.” Your glare is sharp and hand stiff when you lift it to point towards the exit. “Out of this establishment before I call child services on your boss.”

Jungwon gives a panicked glance at Taehyung at which he can only nod because he knows you don’t have to call child services – you are child services. Well, not working with the government but your NGO definitely has good connections and enough prominence to uproot his whole club just because of Jungwon’s part-time hiring. And letting go of Jungwon is you giving Taehyung a warning before taking a serious action. He knows you well enough to know that much.

The moment the kid has collected his backpack and left through the door, your glare turns to Taehyung. "We talked about this, Taehyung. And you promised you wouldn't bring in any minors in any kind of work before they're done with their education."

Yeah, he did, but it was in a very different context. Scouting minors for reality shows and hiring them as bartenders has nothing in common and Taehyung is just about to remind you of the same when he suddenly stops.

Plays your words in his head again.

And barely contains a gasp.

Because… did you just address the past? Acknowledge the fact that you are actually more than just Jimin's guest's date here and that you and him have actually met prior to this?

You did.

Shit.

His eyes are wide and lips are parted and now he doesn't know what to say.

Nearly seven years back, when Taehyung was trying to make a name in the entertainment industry, attempting to surpass existing PDs with his maximal creativity and eccentric ideas, he came up with this concept of a game show with school going kids. But as soon as he started working on it, you had a talk with him, explaining how risky it was for kids' development to be exposed to the world of cameras and reality television so early on. Especially kids that didn't want to get into the entertainment industry after growing up. Taehyung had listened to you, as he often did back then, and scrapped the idea.

And now he's here again, having hired an underage bartender. He sees the fault in his ways and drops his head.

"I'm sorry."

Your sigh sounds extremely tired, just as defeated as your gaze. "You always are, Taehyung."

That makes him frown, angering him more so when you turn around to walk further into the club.

"Hey," he calls out, briskly following you. "I've been listening to you being passive aggressive all night, but you've gotta stop, okay? You're the one that came to my party. Stop acting like I forced you to talk to me."

You swerve in your place so suddenly, Taehyung has to put an effort to stop himself from colliding into you. Your eyes spit fire at him.

"Oh, yeah? What the hell is this, then? I didn't come to your party, for the last time, I came to Jimin's. So why won't you let me be his guest and get the hell lost?"

He sees that you're done holding back. Well. He is, too.

"I know where this is coming from," he grits out, leaning down to seethe into your face. "Are you angry at your little date for not informing you you’re gonna see me here?”

You scoff with a humourless laugh. “Are you kidding me? You’re actually jealous of Jungkook? Is this why you won’t leave me alone in the hall?”

“Okay one – I’m not jealous, I don’t care what you do in your life, let alone your dating life,” Taehyung sneers with derision he doesn’t mean, and the sudden flash of hurt on your face doesn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as he’d hoped it would. “And two – I didn’t wanna leave you alone because I was trying to be a good host!”

“Oh?” Your eyes narrow. “Well, how about this – if you really wanna be a good host, just call me a damned cab and let me leave.”

Taehyung’s face falls at your words, way too quickly before he can contain himself. “L–leave?” And then he stutters, proving himself to be as pathetic as he’s sure you think him to be.

But you don’t react with the same fiery anger. Instead, your eyes get clouded with confusion and hands unfurl from the angry fists. “Yeah. Coming here was an obvious mistake, I shouldn’t have let Jeon sweet talk me into it…”

As he’s about to tell you to not leave just yet and make promises of leaving you alone, your words register in his head. “Jeon?”

Your eyes widen and cheeks flush. “J–Jungkook. I meant Jungkook.”

“Of course you meant that, but that is not what you said!”

Taehyung stalks up to you, crowding you against the bar counter, drinking the way your eyes grow in size and shoulders rise up in your telltale sign of nervousness. He says your name, slowly and deeply, leaning over you to have your breasts brush his chest, the way you give a slight shiver at his enunciation of your name making him shiver too.

“Is Jungkook really your date?”

A pearlescent row of teeth bites into your lush, red painted lower lip. “Yeah, he’s really my date.” Taehyung raises a single eyebrow and you immediately shut your eyes, turning your head slightly to the left with a wince. “But… he’s a friend and asked me to come here with him as a friend.”

Oh, God.

Taehyung hates himself for the way relief rushes through his veins and overtakes his entire body at your words, because what the actual fuck? Why is he relieved? Heartbreak, break up, moving on, hello?

Nope, no one's home.

He stares into your eyes when you open them again, brain foggy with so many questions he cannot pick which one to put up first. Just the way he can't decipher what this wide-eyed look in your eyes means.

What wouldn’t he give to be able to glimpse into what you’re thinking right now…

Stupid Jungkook and his stupid freaking doe eyes that landed you here. And stupid you for not even researching where you were going, so eager to jump the chance to escape the confines of your too empty apartment when you were slapped with a month long break from the news channel you work at.

They were afraid you were gonna have a 'burn out' – dumb concept that definitely doesn't mean anything to you, because you need work to keep going. If you're not drafting reports or editing scoops, you're visiting the NGO you joined fifteen years ago and have become the Director of, now. But the traitorous staff there sent you home, too, when they saw how ‘gaunt’ you looked, which – again, means nothing to you because keeping your mind occupied takes a higher prominence for you than maintaining your looks.

The thing is, you still live in the apartment you have shared with Taehyung for over three years. It’s unhealthy, you’re aware, but you played yourself by trying to act strong, and now you keep looking for excuses to leave your home for as long as you can. Which is why Jungkook’s offer, the first semblance of respite in a little over two weeks, came as a blessing that you were quick to grasp.

Well, look where it has landed you – pressed up between a bar counter and the very same ex, escaping the ghost of whose presence made you come here.

Although, looking into Taehyung’s mellow brown eyes, you try to figure out who you are really looking at. Is it the ex you left behind, the man you had to push out of your life because he stopped loving you?

Is it the one guy that you'd dreamt a future with? The one guy in the entire world you'd given enough power to hurt you? The guy that did break your heart?

Tears gather on your waterline as images from your past cascade in your mind, and you flutter your eyelids to suck the salty liquid back in. There is no use reminiscing what has been lost.

Because this man who stands before you is none of those things. He is just a successful variety show director who has now stepped into the world of business by running a club. The guy who you deemed the love of your life, performing arts Junior Kim Taehyung who was growing into this amazing young man full of so many dreams – who wanted to hold your hand through the process of making them come true – has been left in the past. His feelings, plans and intentions had changed long before you realised he was done caring about you. He had stopped being the guy you fell for, long before you walked away.

But even as you remind yourself of those things, you cannot help scanning his face with a frenzied gaze as if trying to save up every changed detail of him, the matured lines around his mouth and eyes, the stronger structure of his nose and jaw.

Why are you doing this to yourself? And why is he doing this to you? Holding onto your arms so fiercely and looking into your eyes with such blatant distress? And why is your heart beating so loud in response to his proximity?

"I…" He moves a miniscule bit closer and you stifle a gasp when his familiar breath washes over your face. "I have missed you."

Oh, God, no.

No no no no – he can't say stuff like this after everything you've been through. You refuse to accept it. With a vehement scowl, you shove him off you, turning away from the hurt that splashes across his face.

"Stop this, Taehyung." You wish your voice came out stronger than a helpless plea, but it ends in a whisper of his name. "Let me just go ho—"

"Does seeing me here not affect you at all?"

Your gaze snaps to his in surprise, lips turning downwards when you see the way his eyes are dunked in sorrow. "Taehyung…"

"Does it not matter to you at all? It's – it's been five years… have you not missed me? At all?"

His restlessness visibly grows with every sentence and you wring your fingers together, nervous for no reason. "I… There's – there's no point to this conversation, Taehyung, we—"

"Yes, there is!"

He frowns at you furiously, jaw tightened and fists clenched, but stays rooted to his place without moving towards you. Anger never used to be something you saw on Taehyung much. If he could go without it in a situation, he always chose that path. This also meant that the few times when he did get mad, he didn't know how to handle the feeling or how to act. And so, fearing God knows what, he always maintained physical distance from you when he got annoyed.

Hence, the way he holds himself tightly away from you confirms that he is extremely angry, right now.

Your lips turned back into your mouth, you try to nod in a placating manner, letting him say his thing instead of trying to fight and causing him more anguish.

"You… you just left me," he begins, looking more confused and lost than agitated. "Never talked about us, never let me talk, just… up and exited out of my life. Disappeared from the apartment until I'd cleaned it out, blocked me everywhere you could, even told your building's freaking security guard to not let me in!"

You duck your head, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, because his accusation is right. You started hiding from him the day after you broke up, scared he would convince you to try again with just one glance. But you were beyond the point trying, already. The two of you were getting bigger and busier in your respective fields and growing more distant from each other. You both forgot about the tenderness of all the promises you made to each other in college and let insecurity, suspicion and toxicity between you.

"Say something," he brokenly calls out, staring at you with his eyes defeated and shoulders slumped.

"There's nothing to say, Taehyung," you whisper, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"How?" he beseeches, throwing his hands up. "You left me and then avoided me like the plague… You treated me as if I'd cheated on you because you were suspicious!"

Now you're angry too. "Okay, one – I never treated you like that. And should I remind you I wasn't alone in my suspicions? Somi came into your life because you were insecure about me and my boss!"

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe there was a reason I was so insecure about you both?"

"Reason? Taehyung, what the—" You shut your eyes to calm yourself down from screaming. "Are you really going to keep spinning this in circles and not once acknowledge that it was petty and stupid of you to try to make me jealous through Somi?"

Taehyung's throat bobs in a nervous swallow, his quickly changing demeanour telling you he's been caught by surprise. You give a scoff, rolling your eyes, and walk up to the bar next to you to raise yourself up and sit on one of the stools.

He follows you with pursed lips, tentatively walking up to stand next to you.

“There was nothing there, by the way,” he quietly says. “Feel like I should clarify that because I never really have before. Somi was still in college, foolish and a bit disillusioned. And I just didn’t want to destroy the rest of her career because you and I were going through a rough patch.”

You never really suspected he was having an affair, to begin with, but that didn’t lessen the insult and hurt you felt at the unnecessary means he used in order to slight you. What he just said, though, makes your head hurt.

“Taehyung. Are you listening to yourself? You really chose to secure a girl’s career instead of saving our relationship! And then you accused me of having my priorities messed up.”

He responds to your aggression with a dejected hum. “It sounded shitty even as I was saying it. But that was me, then. And I regret not trying hard enough. Although,” he breathes, looking at you with sad eyes as he says your name with a sadder sigh. "Don't say I chose to protect her over us, please don't say that…"

“That is pretty much how it went down, though.” You blink your tears away and bite on your bottom lip. "Do you remember your twenty-fourth birthday?"

You can spot the second Taehyung shows those familiar signs of irritation, and you are ready with your scoff. It has been four years, and he's still doing this?

"Don't give me that look. You don't know how excited—"

"And you don't know how upset I was!" he speaks over you, looking almost as angry as he did that night when you confronted him.

→ five years ago;

“What do you mean he’s away?” you barked into the phone, painted nails digging into your palms and furious eyes scanning the people scattered around the living room. “What’s going on, Jimin?”

The man on the phone sighed. “Kid, I don’t know the exact details of his schedule – I won’t have wasted a week setting things up with you if I did, trust me. It’s just what his assistant told me. They're both away to attend a very important meeting, or some shit. They can't be back until tomorrow morning. Since when does he even have an assistant?”

You rubbed at your forehead, brain melting into a useless pulp from all the stress, but plastered a smile on your face when one of the guests looked your way. “Since Halloween,” was gritted out of your clenched teeth, lips barely moving.

“Is everyone there already?”

“Yes, Jimin. Even his mom arrived fifteen minutes ago,” you informed your boyfriend’s best friend, looking at the woman mentioned, with a distressed sigh. “More than twenty hearts that I set up to break.”

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Jimin reprimanded you, the sound of his footfalls echoing through the phone due to what you assumed were the empty hallways of Taehyung’s studio where his office was located. “First off, we both decided it would be a good surprise. So we both take the fall of it blowing up in our faces. And secondly, Tae is breaking their hearts, kid. Not us.”

Your eyes watered despite Jimin’s reassurance, throat tightening at the prospect of all the questions and judgemental stares you would be subjected to on top of the disappointment from your guests. Not to mention Taehyung’s mom who took a flight out of Daegu at your insistence.

“I’ll be there soon and we’ll tell them together, okay? Just hold on for a while.”

God bless his precious soul, but Jimin’s presence wasn’t going to make things any easier for you. The reality of the night remained that you’d planned a surprise get-together for your boyfriend’s twenty-fourth birthday, collecting the closest of your friends and his to treat them to a small party at home, hoping to sew up some of the distance that had started to fester between the two of you for the last couple of months.

And he didn’t show up. Chose to attend a 'very important meeting' instead. And took his assistant along.

Your heart was shattering with each breath you took, but the night went on.

Jimin helped you make up a lie about Taehyung getting caught up in a shooting that ran late which had delayed him from arriving on time. You convinced your guests to not stay back so late and wait for him because 'he would feel guilty,' and bid them farewell with an apology and a homemade cupcake in their hands as a parting gift. Missus Kim stayed back, eyeing you with a narrowed gaze when everyone had filtered out of your apartment.

“He isn’t just late, is he?”

You jumped at her words, panicked eyes meeting Jimin's, who froze in the middle of slipping on his boots to take his own leave.

“Don’t look at him,” the gorgeous woman caught you, chuckling. “He’s just as bad of a liar as you.”

Jimin stood up with a guilty grimace, bowing his head in apology. “I’m sorry, Mom."

She waved a hand, dismissing him with pursed lips. "Do you both even know where he is?"

No, you had no idea.

"He's… not in Seoul, actually."

Your gaze snapped to Jimin at his revelation. He hadn't told you that.

Taehyung… wasn't in the city? Where was he? When did he leave?

He had taken his assistant with him. He didn't pick up your calls all night. His assistant picked up his phone, only when Jimin called.

Was he really away on work, or…?

No, it had to be work. You refused to jump to conclusions. He would never do this to you; not in this life, or any other that you two found yourselves together in.

But then… Why did he not tell you he was leaving?

Why wasn't he returning your calls?

What was your boyfriend hiding from you?

Heart crumpling, head pounding and darkness clouding your vision, you fell into a heap on the floor. Two pairs of legs made a frantic dash towards you, their worried voices and calls of your name reaching you through a long, narrow tunnel.

But your chest burned with humiliation and grief, things falling into themselves until you passed out on your living room floor.

When the next morning came, you were barely able to relax at the waking up without last night's paranoia in your mind, before the news reports caught up with you – your boyfriend and assistant had been spotted and photographed visiting a k-drama actress' manager in Incheon, last night. Apparently he was preparing for a 'March release' for his variety show and 'trivial things like birthdays' were not going to make him falter in his determination of working hard.

You had sat stunned at the kitchen table for hours, coffee forgotten and eyes swollen, until Taehyung arrived sometime in the late morning.

“You missed your party yesterday.”

“Ah, I know. Mom called. She was mad.”

Taehyung didn’t even look your way, simply laid down on the couch and decided to nap.

You scoffed, walking up to him with a frown. “Taehyung. It was insulting and very hurtful that you decided to just leave town without telling me.”

“Somi told Jimin, didn't he tell you?" he mumbled from beneath the arm he had over his face.

You bristled at the casual way he said his assistant's name. "Oh, yeah, he did. He also told me Somi picked up your phone. The same phone which I called on at least fifty times and got no response.

He gave a click of his tongue, still lying motionless. "What's the big deal with her handling my phone? She had it because I was talking to an important person."

"The big deal is that your phone is supposed to be private. You have a girlfriend that might send you private messages that no one but you should be privy to." You rolled your shoulders back. "On that note… maybe you should remind your assistant of the fact that you have a girlfriend."

“I have, multiple times. But... I don't think she's really all that wrong to not believe me when my ‘girlfriend’ had never even visited me at work, not once.”

“That's not fair, Tae. You've never visited my newsroom either, but I don't complain!”

“I haven't visited because you haven't invited me! And why would you? Wouldn't want Hoseok to know you have a boyfriend, right?”

You groaned, massaging your forehead as your irritation peaked. “Really? This again? Taehyung, for fuck’s sake, he's my boss.”

“He asked you to go to the Halloween Ball with him—”

“As colleagues!”

“That's what you think. Or maybe that's what you want me to think. But I'm not stupid.”

“No, you're not,” you gritted out, stare menacing and full of hatred. “You're an absolute dumbass. So you humiliated me in front of all our guests and let your mother question how weak our relationship has been because you won't trust me about Hoseok? Is that what this is? Did you go there with Somi as some dumb ploy to make me jealous?”

“What does it matter, anyway? Not like you're gonna feel anything, you never have. You don't care where I am or who I am with.”

“Where – where the fuck is this coming from? I don't feel stupidly jealous because I am secure in our relationship! I trust you and know that no matter what anyone tries, you're never gonna betray me!”

“Oh? And I'm insecure for not liking the fact that your boss asked you to go to a party with him? When he knew you have a boyfriend?”

“Yes! Yes, you're insecure! Which doesn't make any sense, because look at you, Tae! Have you seen yourself? A successful PD that artists run after to get him to take them into his variety shows. Idols flirt with you! Anyone would feel like the luckiest person in the world to be with you!”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you feel lucky to be with me?”

What the heck was he trying to get on? "Of course, I feel lucky to have you, Tae. What sort of a question is that?"

For a moment, something soft and familiar entered his face. But the next second, it was back to harsh lines and twisted anger that you did not recognise, at all.

"Well, you sure don't act like it."

Stunned, you just stared at him for a while. When it became apparent that he was waiting for you to say something to defend his baseless blame, you scoffed.

"I have a busy job and an NGO to take care of. I'm sorry I can't be a doting girlfriend all the time that worships the floor you walk on!" You shook your head. "But it's nothing you didn't already know when we started dating, Tae."

He didn't look towards you, instead staring at his hands. "You had time for the Halloween gala. You made time for the Christmas gala. You just… It's not about time. You've just stopped prioritising me." With a quick glance tossed at you, he allowed you to peak at all the heartbreak he contained in him. But then he gave a wry chuckle. "Or maybe, something about your office events makes you want to distance yourself from me?"

His indication was, clear as day, Hoseok again.

You ground your teeth in pain coloured irritation. "You're talking out of your ass, Kim Taehyung. For the last time, he's my boss and—"

"I'm done with this conversation." He made to step away with a roll of his eyes but you stopped him.

"No, you're not. Stop being an insecure asshole and apologise for last night," you beseeched, looking into his eyes with a defeated sigh and slumped shoulders. "That was all I wanted, to begin with."

"Maybe sometime later, I'm too agitated to apologise right now."

And he shoved your hand off his arm and stalked towards the bathroom.

As you went about cleaning the scatter of supplies you'd left in the kitchen after last night, your need for an apology from him went down and the need for a breather away from him started to surface.

The decision you finally made after four months had started to cement that morning, on the last day of the year and the first day of the defeat you felt for the two of you.

Blinking away tears, you look at Taehyung's face and wonder if he remembers as much as you do. Or if his own annoyance over the situation still clouds his sense of what he did wrong that day.

"Upset?"

"Yeah, upset. More often than not, I felt like this airheaded guy next to you because our works were so vastly different. You were dealing with real people, real problems – and I was creating dumb shows to entertain people with these simulations of made up problems." He looks at you with pained eyes. "And then you had someone like Hoseok wanting to take you to events with him."

"What do you mean by someone like Hoseok?" you ask with a small groan, hating the memories of all the fights you both had because of the unsuspecting guy.

"Someone smart, someone fun. Someone who understood your work. Someone you could confide in better than me. Someone who spent way more time with you than I ever could because of our schedules and busy jobs." He shrugs his shoulders, looking down at his feet. "I felt like if he really tried, Hoseok could steal you away from me. And some part of me actually realised that it would be good for you if it happened. And that drove me nuts."

This is the first time he has ever expressed the true extent of his insecurity about Hoseok – the man who is still your boss but is now in a happy marriage, because despite Taehyung's suspicions, neither you nor Hoseok ever had any kind of feelings for each other.

"Taehyung," you sigh, eyes misting at the way he stands with his limbs curled in, as if trying to make himself look smaller. "It was never like that. Never ever."

"Then why did you break up with me before a trip with him?"

Surprised at the way he has twisted up his view of the situation, you quickly step towards him and shake your head. "No. No it wasn't like that, at all. I broke – broke up because we had stopped understanding each other," you try to remind him. "It was never about anybody else. Not Hoseok, not Somi. It was about our trust in each other and the way it was crumbling under the pressure of our demanding workplaces. We were becoming toxic for each other, Tae."

Taehyung doesn't look like he understands any of that. And you know why. He has always been very simple and raw about his emotions and feelings – never really getting into gritty details of anything other than what he feels when it came to your relationship. He always believed that you could make it work as long as you had each other; as long as you had love. But that is not how it works. And he has to understand that.

"Do you resent me?"

He looks at you in surprise at your question.

"For breaking your heart?"

"I resent you for breaking both of our hearts," he tells you and a thick layer of comfort washes over you at his acknowledgement of your own hurt. "There were so many other things we could have done, back then… Things that would've saved our mental health as well our relationship. We could've gotten professional help, went to couple therapy, maybe lived separately for a while. But you just gave up."

You hang your head, fully aware that every single word he is saying is true.

Back then, you were obsessed with the idea of salvaging your sanity and not wasting away your youth by crying over your relationship, because you were so full of energy and drive that you felt like you could really change the world if you tried hard enough. Being with Taehyung started to be synonymous to pain and frustration, which you inadvertently brought to work and had it affect your productivity. It started taking a toll on you after a while, so much so that cutting things off to allow both of you to breathe was the best solution you could come up with.

Now, though, looking back at how difficult it has been to cope with all that world has to offer, by your lonesome self, maybe you'd do things differently.

But you still stand by the reality that you only did what you felt would be good for you both.

“Are you still mad at me about the Somi debacle?”

You are not surprised that he puts up the question. It’s as you have always known; Taehyung doesn’t care much for the complexities in a relationship beyond the baser emotions. When he’s in love, he’s just in love – and when you’re angry, you’re just angry in his eyes.

Very silently, you breathe out and shake your head. “It was never really about Somi. I just explained it to you.”

“I… Then why have you been so cold to me the entire time, tonight?”

The vulnerability in his small voice tears down all the protective walls you have built up high around your heart.

“Tae…”

You don’t even know what to say to him, how to explain what you feel. You definitely have been avoiding him, ignoring him and yelling at him – but is it because you are actually angry? Or just trying to avoid your true feelings? You don’t know.

“I don’t know,” you honestly admit, slipping off the stool, your eyes lowered to his feet. “I’m sorry for being a bitch, but… I just… I don’t know, Tae. I never should have come here. I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

You turn away from him, closing your eyes to keep tears at bay. You should have left this party the moment you found out Jimin was hosting it with Taehyung. You should have… moved out of the damn apartment after your break-up.

But you thought you were strong enough to brave all of this without anything getting to you. Well, you were wrong. A lot of it has gotten to you and you don’t even know how long it will take for you to get back on your feet. Maybe you should start with moving out of the apartment, foremost.

You’re still ruminating on your regrets, when a strong hand grabs your upper arm from behind. You didn’t even hear him move. Before you can turn to look at him, you feel his presence directly up against your back, his damp exhales warm on the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” whispers his deep, gruff voice next to the shell of your ear and you shudder. “You ruined me. All those years ago… you ruined me when you left.”

Breathing sped up, you slowly turn in his arms, coming up so close to his face when you look up, that you have to repeatedly blink to ground yourself.

He is so beautiful. Hair up and away from his forehead but still slightly messy because he has this habit of fiddling with it whenever he is anxious. Soft brown eyes wild and liquid with the exact same devastation that compresses your own chest, cheekbones high and dotted with a red hue from his agitation, the same hue that his lips have lost due to how tightly he has them pressed together.

He is so beautiful that it’s painful to have him so close and yet so far away from you.

“Tae, I… I understand it was difficult – trust me, I suffered more than I thought I would. But it was important.”

Now, you planned to elaborate on your point and try to make him see how the years apart made the two of you get to know yourselves better instead of you going down the road of destroying each other you were headed to.

But before you can do any of that, Taehyung’s face turns cloudy, his overthinking brain obviously drawing all sorts of wrong conclusions from your singular statement.

“Important? Are you being for real?” is gritted out through his teeth, hand letting go of your arm and feet stepping away.

“Taehyung—”

“I cannot fall in love again!” he yells, but all his voice carries in its loudness is immeasurable pain. “It’s – it’s been five years since you left, and there’s still this huge, gaping hole in my chest that nothing and no one can ever fill because it is shaped like you! And you…” His shoulders roll down in a defeated slump. “You think us separating was important.”

His biggest concern is not being able to fall in love again? Your heart, hurting and paining, jumps up to lodge in your throat. Trembling lips rolled into your mouth, you stare at him with watery eyes but an even gaze.

“I have a gaping hole shaped like you in my chest too, which will remain like that. And so will yours.” You breathe out. “Remember when I told you anyone would be lucky to have you? And you asked me if I felt lucky, too?” At his hesitant nod, you lean into his face, eyebrows drawn menacingly. “I felt like the luckiest woman in the whole world by your side, Taehyung. But all you could think of was how any other guy would come steal me from you, because you believed I was that easily moved.”

A tear leaves your eye when his own pair starts to glimmer with the salty water. But you have to tell him – he has to remember he wasn’t alone in his hurt.

“I was neck deep in love with you. But you just couldn’t learn to trust me. You’re worried about falling in love again? Where will you find someone willing to deal with your insecurities when you drove me away? If I couldn't put up with you, no one else would ever be able to, Kim Taehyung.”

Your words are met with heartbreak on his face. Lower lip quivering, his own tears brim his eyes and start to topple over in beaded trails down his cheeks.

Great, now you both are crying. This is so stupid. This shouldn’t have been happening, God, you should have been working on an article and Taehyung should have been enjoying the launch of his club.

And now you will both sob your way into the new year. Like absolute idiots who can’t help hurting one another every time you two come within reach.

“But I’ve never wanted anyone else to do that,” he suddenly says, voice choked and gritty. “I just wanted you back.”

“We were going to ruin each other, Tae,” comes your breathy claim, sounding as broken as his does.

“And now? Do we stand to ruin each other still?”

What? What does he mean by that? Why would he ask you that? Terrified of the implications, you take a small step away from Taehyung, your eyes wide and not meeting his.

“Is everything lost for us? Forever?”

Now, there’s nothing else he could mean by that.

“I… I think I should leave,” you murmur in a rush, hurriedly stepping away, unwilling to have this conversation with him.

He is not having it, though because one moment you’re walking off, and the next you have your wrist in his grasp – being spun around and pushed against the nearest wall, his other hand holding onto your waist to fix you in place.

Your wide eyes look up at him and his narrowed ones look down at you. “No. You pushed me out of your life once, I won’t let you do it a second time. Not when I have you so close to me again…”

Senses haywire, all you can focus on is the golden skin of his face, the planes of his cheeks glowing with the trails of tears. His heart shaped lips quiver, coming closer to yours. You look up into his dark eyes that lock yours in place.

“I never stopped loving you,” he breathes a hair's breadth away from your lips and you greedily inhale his air, heart skipping multiple beats at a time as he finishes with, “Did you?”

And you know, you absolutely know that the sane thing to do, right now, would be to push him off you and leave this place. Tell him to remember himself – remember where the two of you stand in your lives, and not mess up the temporary calm you two have attained with so much difficulty.

But you do none of that.

Because his eyes are glassy and lips are glossy and you still love him – love him so much, it feels impossible. Your lips are the one to catch his, but his are the ones that push hard against yours.

All at once – the world is a very familiar but a very scary place. His lips transport you back to when you were crazy in love. But they also remind you of all the tears. They taste like his favourite strawberry chapstick. But they also taste like guilt, regret and a million apologies.

Taehyung holds you tighter, pushes you against the wall harder, and slides a leg between yours to jam you in your place. His tongue slips past your lips with practised ease, tangling with yours. The battle – so intimate and so yours – has been perfectly memorised by your body, so much so that you move on muscle memory, gripping the back of his neck and tilting your head just right to taste the delicious cavern of his mouth that you have so desperately missed.

Your passion is returned in kind, Taehyung’s exploring hands reaching up to hold your breasts, as if relearning their curves. His lips detach from yours with a heavy gasp, wasting no time before travelling down your neck like second nature.

Well, it is second nature to them – Taehyung has always loved marking up the line of your throat, and the way his teeth make small scrapes against your skin reacquaint you with the fact.

“Tae,” you breathe, eyes shut and head pressed against the hard surface behind it.

You do not know what you are calling out for. But you can’t help saying his name out loud; making this moment of having his skin against yours more tangible.

“Tae… Taehyung… Tae baby…”

His groan is sponged into your collarbones by his wet, open mouthed kisses. And then, in a movement faster than the blinks of your rapidly fluttering eyelids, his long, slender fingers curl against the upper hem of your dress and tug it down, baring you from the waist up.

You do not get the time to show your shock, let alone bring yourself back to the reality of what you are doing and whom you are doing it with, before his hands have your breasts cupped in them again. This time, without the layer of your dress’s padded cloth.

All that escapes your mouth is a winding moan, body jolting when he pinches both your nipples between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger of either hand.

“So fucking pretty.”

His voice is impossibly dark and deep, something you’ve heard multiple times before and lose your mind to, every single time. This time bears no exception. Then he leans down to wrap his lips around one of the pebbled tips of your breasts, and you keel over, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back. Tongue flicking at the sensitive nub, his teeth rub over it lightly before he sucks hard.

“Tae…” You helplessly whisper, lost in the sensations only he seems to be capable of igniting in your body.

Raising his head from your breast, he lets his free hand travel down your side to slip past the slit in your dress to trace the hem of your panties, and answers you with a softly breathed, “Yes, baby?”

His flushed face greets your vision when you open your eyes again. Your own probably looks the same, because you can feel your ears getting warmer by the moment as the pads of his deft fingers scratch at the fabric of your underwear, right above your wet centre. And you’re lost again, closing your eyes and moaning out an elongated version of his name.

“Please… touch me…”

The fingers immediately slide the crotch of your panties aside to brush up against your naked pussy – sensitive and coated with your wetness. A hissed breath is released past your lips, teeth pulling the bottom one between them as you try to keep quiet while Taehyung moves his fingers through your slick centre. His digits travel from the outer edges of your slit, up to your clit and pause there, very lightly tapping at your sensitive nub, before travelling back down.

You are whimpering now, opening up your legs wider and hooking one over his waist in desperation. Taehyung remains unrelenting, teasing you until thick tears of arousal tumble down your cheeks. With a hum that sounds nothing short of sinister satisfaction, he leans in to plant a soft kiss over the tear tracks on your cheeks, and finally, finally slips two of his fingers past your entrance. They curl against your heated insides with practised familiarity, his hand making small pumping motions until he is a little over knuckles deep.

The tips of his fingers know where to touch you and how tenderly – and he drags them against your rough patch of nerves in a flurry of motions, making you wrap all your limbs around him, sobbing his name over and over again.

Taehyung’s head falls to your shoulder, lips planting kisses between his whispers of your own name back to you.

“I missed you so much, baby… you’re so gorgeous…” he breathes into your skin, kissing a line up to the back of your ear. “I love you so much.”

Emotions and arousal churn inside of you, confusing you and dragging you to the point of delirium. All you know is that you don’t want him to stop, never want him to stop. Stop what – talking or doing what he is with his fingers?

Maybe both.

So you allow a moan to escape your lips, push your face into his chest, your cheek against the lapel of his coat, and mumble an aching, “I need you inside me, Tae…”

“Yeah?” he immediately holds you tighter against his body, nearly lifting you off the floor, his hair brushing your shoulders as he dips to plant kisses over your breasts that are pressed against his form. “Want me to fuck you, my love?”

“Please… Please, Tae…”

With a muttered curse, he pulls his fingers out of you, making you open your eyes to watch them wordlessly disappear into his mouth. He looks completely fucked out, cheeks a brilliant rosy red, lips swollen as if he’s been nibbling on them, and eyes glazed over.

Taehyung is without a doubt the most handsome man you have seen in your life. But Taehyung during sex? That is a whole other level of irresistible deliciousness that always drives you crazy. Right now, he looks like he is going to devour you. And you so badly want him to.

Using the hand holding your waist, he twirls you around to press your front against the wall. The roughness of the wall immediately makes your sensitive nipples sting, but you are too far lost in the feel of his hands baring your ass to him – your dress neatly folded over your hips. He grabs the side of your waist to tug your ass back, stepping in between your spread legs. And as you support yourself with your arms against the wall, the sound of his zipper being undone bathes your ears with an echo. There’s a crinkling of foil that follows the sound, which doesn’t surprise you at all. Taehyung has always been very careful and caring in every aspect of your sex life. All of these thoughts just work to heighten your arousal further.

And then he’s there, the fat head of his cock nudging at your entrance, both hands holding onto the cheeks of your ass, spreading them apart lewdly. His length runs through your juices, nudging against the hood of your clit, and you whine, pressing your forehead against the cold surface of the PVC wall panel in front of you.

“Ready, baby?” Taehyung asks you as if to tease you, the knowing lilt in his voice spilling with mischief.

He knows you are more than ready; have been literally begging him. You try to exhale but a tight groan comes out instead when he pushes just the head of his thick and long – almost too long for you to handle – cock into you.

“Oh, yeah, you’re so ready,” comes his throaty murmur. “So fucking wet, you’re dripping all over me…”

He pushes further in without any more words, the only sounds around you both are your heavy breaths and his gasps of effort as he works his girthy length into your tight channel.

The way Taehyung fills you up so completely is a feeling you have found nowhere else in the world. The bulging veins running beneath the velvet surface of his cock brush against all the right spots in you despite the layer of latex between you both, and your walls give way for him to be driven all the way in, have him buried to the hilt. He raises your body into a standing position and snakes both his hands to the front of your torso, gripping at your breasts to pull you against him with your back flat against his front. Using them as leverage, he pounds into you hard and fast.

“Fuck – fuck – Tae!”

He grumbles an unintelligible response into the back of your neck, nose pushed into your hair and lips tracing wet patterns on your skin.

You feel fully surrounded by him – held in his embrace, filled up with him and every breath you take carries the scent of his cologne. Every thrust of his length in you pushes the globes of your breasts further into his large palms, his grunts filtering into your ears. You respond with high-pitched renditions of his name, legs turned to jelly with how hard he is fucking you.

"Missed you," he gasps into you ear in between his motions, with, "so – fucking – much," enunciated in time with the movement of his hips.

You blindly nod, eyes shut and tears leaking through your lids. His grip suddenly loosens on you, hands sliding down your body to mould against the dip of your waist and hold you tight again. Your spine arches, shifting away from him when his thrusts slow down to let you adjust, and head settles over one of the arms that you have braced against the wall.

Taehyung rolls your body onto his cock, growling your name entwined with curses. "Did you miss me too?" he pants, pistoning himself in you, hitting all your sensitive spots.

A sob leaves you, eyes clenching tighter. You missed him. God knows how fucking much. "I – I did…"

"Good… Should've never fucking left me, God," he hisses, movements a blur behind you, the push of his length against that one spongy spot deep within you, making your eyes roll back and a coil begin to tighten in your belly. "I should've fought harder… Begged more…"

His words reach you later than they should because the cloud of lust that envelops you is too thick to permeate. But his words are sharp and extremely heavy – when they get to you, they drop straight down to your stomach, tearing through everything in their wake.

Because you really destroyed him, didn't you? Cursed him to a lifetime of pain just because you couldn't handle fights?

Your eyes open and multiple tears dribble down your face, heart torn.

"Tae," your whimper, tears falling non-stop even as your orgasm draws closer. "You – you did everything you c–could… fuck… I didn't even try…"

His pace falters, slowing down, a hand racing up your waist to cup your chin and pull it to the side. Your teary eyes meet his own red rimmed ones.

"Do you love me?"

Oh, God… You're about to say yes, aren't you?

Desperate eyes scan your own, waiting, hoping – but as your uncertain gaping continues, his hips start to snap harder again. His eyes turn to slits, teeth grind together and then his grip on your chin becomes bruising as he grunts, "Talk to me when I ask you a question…"

His dominant persona has always been your undoing, so you aren't the least bit surprised when a whimpered moan is coaxed out of you, along with a jumble of confession.

"I love you! I love – love you so much, Tae! So much, fuck!"

Taehyung curses against the back of your neck, and then separates his upper body from yours to bring his palm down in a sharp spank against your ass. You cry out, brought to the edge by his action.

"A fucking brat, left your man all alone as if – as if you could live without me, huh?"

Beyond the anger and sexual need, you hear pain in his voice and shut your eyes in apology. "Baby… I love you…"

In response, he pulls his length out of you.

But your gasping protests get swallowed by his mouth when he immediately spins you around to press up against you again, lips on yours and a hand wrapped around your throat. The other hand taps at your thigh to get you to manoeuver your legs around his hip.

He effortlessly holds you up against the wall and slides his cock home again, this time with his teeth digging into your tongue.

"You fucking killed me, baby," he grunts into your mouth, snapping his hips against yours angrily. "It's been h–hell without you…"

His jaw tightens just as his hand tightens around your throat. You groan when the action builds your peak quicker than before.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" You do not recognise the voice that comes out of you, but you mean your apology with your heart.

"And so am I, baby, shit… So fucking sorry, you have no fucking idea…" His words are nearly sobbed, but you feel them seep into your bones.

Then his lips move to lick a path down your chin, and then, tightening his grip on your throat to the point where you actually feel your air supply getting cut off, he latches onto a nipple with a hum of delight.

All sensations crescending in under a minute, you give a muffled shout of Taehyung's name, eyes screwing shut and hips stuttering uncontrollably against his as you are toppled over the edge. The walls of your pussy quiver around his cock in a delicious rhythm which has your back arching and a cry tearing out of your throat.

Your vision goes completely dark. The zaps of electricity that run across your skin are something only Taehyung has ever been capable of eliciting from you.

Almost immediately, before you can even catch your bearings, he whimpers your name against your breast and goes stiff over you. You wait in anticipation as he groans, releasing himself into the condom.

Taehyung still keeps you in the air against the wall despite the jitters that wrack his body, exhaling shuddering breaths that mist over your sweaty collarbones. His arms are the only buoys holding you up from sinking to the ground with exhausted relief, and you cling onto them with desperation. His softening length still rests in you and some part of you feels unwilling to let go of it, making you involuntarily clench. Hissing, Taehyung grips your waist harder.

A hand swipes at your hair, shifting it off your forehead, which makes you realise your eyes are shut. When a finger tips your chin up, you open them to meet Taehyung's gaze. His cheeks are flushed and eyes tender. Noticing the mess that has become of his hair, you run your hands up to his own forehead, attempting to arrange it.

His plush lips spread into a soft smile, then inhaling, "You… said you love me," he breathes out against your face. You stiffen, eyes dropping to his tie and shirt which he didn't even take off. "Did you mean it?"

You did. You absolutely meant it.

But something in you holds you back from confirming it.

A heavy, heartbreaking sigh leaves him, body visibly slumping in defeat. Very slowly, Taehyung pulls out of you and makes to unwind your legs from around his waist, and you—

You feel like you're about to lose him again.

As if releasing you right now would mean that he will never touch you again. Never be near you again. Never look at you again.

And the mere thought of that frightens you to death.

So you cross your ankles behind his back and run your arms up his biceps to hold onto the back of his neck. His surprised eyes fly to yours, hesitant but so immensely full of hope, you nearly tear up again.

Inhaling deeply, you nod. "Yes. I meant it. I love you, Tae. Always have, never stopped."

A sharp inhale, followed by a gasping chuckle, and Taehyung's eyes widen in wonder. "You… didn't?"

You shake your head. "Not for a single moment. Even when I wanted to tear your hair out, I loved you more than is humanly possible."

His grip on you tightens before he brings your head to his chest, embracing you like his life depends on it. And maybe it does, because yours does too, which is why you wrap yourself around him like a koala, unbothered how you're still bare except for the dress bunched up in the middle of your waist.

The feel of his firm chest and strong, thumping heartbeat under your ear has tears flowing from your eyes unbidden.

"You," you murmur with a sniffle, "you said you're sorry. Did you—"

"Meant every word," he whispers into your hair in between pressing multiple kisses over it.

A weight suddenly lifts off your shoulders. "You do?"

"I am so terribly sorry for every damn thing I did to you, baby." His hold on you tightens a bit more. "And I wish… I wish I'd apologised every time you needed me to. I wish I'd fired Somi when you asked me to… I wish I fucking trusted you when you told me not to worry about Hoseok. I…"

He pulls away to meet your gaze and a sob crawls out of you at the wrecked look on his face.

"I wish I was better to you, baby. And I wish I can go back and correct all the things I did wrong, but…"

You nod. "M–me, too. I wish I understood you better. And – and that I was braver, fought for us instead of quitting when things got tough…"

The two of you stare at each other in silence for a while after that. There's nothing much left to say, anyway.

It is no secret to you how much you suffered in his absence. How you laid awake in bed, nights upon nights, missing Taehyung and his warm cuddles. How you cried yourself to sleep in the early hours of the morning, berating yourself for doing what you did to the two of you. How you used to avoid him at any cost when he tried to get to you because you knew he could make your resolve crumble.

How you kept hoping you did the right thing.

How the pain in your heart always argued that the right thing wouldn't hurt so much.

You have been so stupid. God, you've been a complete and absolute idiot.

Did you really forget all that time when you and him made plans for your future back in college? Nights spent under the blanket of stars, gazing at the twinkling diamonds in the sky and wondering if you'd both fly high enough to touch them someday.

You were supposed to do that together.

Why did you let go of that dream so easily?

You gave up when you should've done the opposite of that. Kept thinking your happily-ever-after was flawed, when it was you that stopped trying.

And now when you look into the eyes of the love of your life, you never want to look away.

"It's not all your fault, baby," he whispers because he reads you. He knows you, the way no one ever has and no one ever will. "I let my insecurities dictate the way I acted around you… Always assumed the worst, let my fears do the thinking instead of logic."

You exhale. "What if – what if we try again?"

"What?" His eyes jump to saucers, sparkling with more than just excitement. "You…"

And he’s looking at you as if it’s surreal. Which doesn’t make sense because of course this is what you would suggest. It is where your conversation was headed, the logical conclusion of the two of you resolving your misunderstandings and apologising for your past mistakes.

But – he looks at you as if hearing you say it makes his heart drum against yours like a metronome, as if in the last five miserable years the two of you stayed away from each other, he has never considered this to be a reasonable possibility. And if he is thinking all of that, he isn’t too off the mark, is he?

Because you gave up all hope as well.

Your grip on him tightens, bringing your faces closer. "I don't wanna be away from you again, Tae. And – and I know we have run away from our problems and caused more problems, but we can try to do better, right? We can learn. Right?"

Taehyung's response is a watery smile and a nod so vigorous, it jolts both of you. You push your face into his neck with a giggle and he does the same to you, saying, "It might take time, but we will find our way. We will learn each other again."

And you just nod back, dissolving in his tight embrace. "Promise to trust me more? I promise to understand you better."

"I promise. I promise, baby, I promise."

Jimin passes you a knowing smile when you walk out of the venue with your hand entwined with Taehyung's, telltale rumples in your gown and a shit eating grin on your companion's face.

"Missed having you around, kid," Jimin mumbles as you wrap your arms around him in a hug. "Never make me pick sides again, okay?"

“I never did, but Tae needed you more.” You pull away with a smile. "And I missed you, too."

Sometime later, Jungkook finds you and nearly cries in happiness when you tell him what happened. Well, minus the r-rated details, that is.

You and Taehyung are going back to your own places for the night, which makes both Jimin and Jungkook raise impressed eyebrows when Taehyung and you join them in their respective cars. But you both are determined.

This time, you don’t want any glitches in your happily-ever-after and you will do things the right way to get to it. This time, there won’t be overthinking and assumptions, you’ll replace them with communication.

As your cars drive each other by, moving in different directions, you and Taehyung pass each other soft smiles.

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kookjinnies · 2 years

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LY: Speak Yourself The Final Spot 1

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threeletterslife · 11 months

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31 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up in yet another unfamiliar place. This time, however, these strangers seem to recognize you. With your previous judgments and aspirations thrown out the window, you're now forced to face where your loyalties really lie. Who will you betray? And which General will you choose to stand by his side?

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of death

⨰ wordcount: 21.1k

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⧖⧗Many, Many Circas Ago⧗⧖

The 11th city was a familiar place. Not so homely, but pleasant in its own way. Mostly inhabited by scholars and instructors of prestigious academies, it was quite the busy city. Yet there were no merchants who crowded the streets as they did in the 3rd city and no boisterous children running about as they did in the 10th. Your earliest memories were of adults heel-to-toe racing to their destinations with their noses stuck in their books. Your parents fit right into this crowd as divinist scholars, themselves. And if there was one thing in your life that has stayed constant from birth to the present, it was books—which you never minded. It was natural for you to take up reading when it was all that your mothers ever did. And besides, your home’s numerous reading nooks made it easy to cozy up with a nice fairytale and some thick, fleece blankets, listening to the soft crackling of candles and the pitter-patter of rain against the window panes.

When you were younger, possibly around six years old, your parents kept your birthstone in a little tin up on the top shelf of the tallest bookshelf in your home. It was a precaution most parents adhered to when their child was young. You were allowed to play with your birthstone occasionally but, of course, under supervision. Darlaean magic was never something to be messed with. And often, children did not understand the ramifications of this great power. Yet you were aware of it for as long as you could remember. Too often, you read (or really, looked at pictures) about antagonists in your fairytale books consumed by their greed and their thirst for control, attempting to break the limits of what their birthstones could achieve. There were those who tried to bring back the dead, those who attempted to force others to love them, and those who wanted to live forever. In the end, they would always spiral into mania or be forced into defeat by the protagonist. It went without saying that power came with handling the Darlaean birthstone, and that much sheer power always scared you—even as a child.

But you were still fascinated with your birthstone. It was a beautiful, white diamond—so tiny, so easy to lose, that you always felt the need to guard it with your life. You loved the way it would glint in the sunlight and cast small rainbows on your palm. You loved the way it felt when you carefully rolled it around in your hands, memorizing its shape and size. You even adored that it wasn’t a perfect sphere and had a little characteristic black carbon spot near its surface. You used to tell your parents that you could tell your birthstone apart from an entire heap of other diamonds. They’d always laugh and pat your head as if you were telling a joke, but you were always serious.

Your birthstone became your most prized possession. You polished it, sang to it, treated it as your doll, which your parents also found quite humorous. Though you weren’t familiar yet with how to use your birthstone to channel magic, you could already feel the sheer energy coursing through your veins every time you picked it up. It was such a good, intense feeling that you would often beg your parents—whoever didn’t have her nose stuck in a book—to reach for the tin hidden on the bookshelf so you could hold your birthstone in your hands again.

As you grew in age, your parents became more lenient with their household rules. They allowed you to eat sweets before bedtime. They began letting you sleep in during the weekends. They no longer kept the tin can far out of your reach. You realized only years later that they’d simply forgotten to hide it away once their research began picking up and their schedules became hectic. But you didn’t mind so much that your parents could no longer read to you before bed every night and were no longer present during dinnertime. Living in the 11th city, where you were practically the only child in a place bustling with well-read adult scholars, forced you to appreciate your own company.

You continued reading your adventure-filled fairytales, living vicariously through the topsy-turvy lives of legends and heroes. The best tales were always the ones with happy endings. And happy endings came when the protagonist was strong enough to defeat the villain. It made you starry-eyed and hopeful. When the world became doused in flames one day, you dreamed of being the one to extinguish them. Or, at least play a small part in it. And what better way to prepare for this moment than to practice your magic?

You spent hours hunched over on the floor of your living room, experimenting with your birthstone. The familiar smell of eucalyptus, the emerald green carpet underneath your legs, the wax candles lining the edge of the room (a total fire hazard amongst all of the books surrounding it)—they’re all sensories so familiar to you. Of course, on some days, patches of that emerald green carpet would be a bright shade of orange or clashing stripes of yellow and magenta. Sometimes the beige wax candles would flicker green for a moment. Other times, the eucalyptus leaves would turn a bright shade of pink.

You liked this natural ability to make changes. It started off small as color-shifting, temporarily changing the colors and patterns of any household item you could find—once even the grass patch outside your house, which nearly gave your good old neighbors a heart attack. But your abilities soon developed into size-shifting as well. Once, with a bit of luck, you managed to shrink an entire stack of books and in your excitement, displayed your fine work to your parents. Yet instead of being proud of you, your parents had a joint mental breakdown, for the stack of books you shrunk had been their lifelong research. Lucky for them, however, your alchemy skills lacked the finesse to make permanent changes, and in seconds, their research reverted safely back to its normal size in a few minutes. Even still, from that point forward, you avoided experimenting on books for your parents’ mental sake.

On your tenth birthday, your parents surprised you with a gift. You remember looking at the slender, mahogany box, excitement bubbling inside of you. Gifts on special occasions weren’t very normal in your household; birthdays usually passed uncelebrated, which you never really minded, but that only made this gift so much more special.

Yet inside the box was an ugly, gray quill, and right before the plumage began on the stem, your precious birthstone sat studded. You stared at it with a confused look on your face.

“It’s your trinket, dear,” Ma said with an excited smile. “Go on, take it out!”

Mother was also smiling, though she wasn’t as enthusiastic as Ma. “Quill trinkets are all the rage these days, Y/N.”

“It’s perfect for a scholar-to-be like you, honey,” Ma said.

Though you should’ve been grateful that your parents went out of their way to give you a trinket—something you’ll likely have until the rest of your life—it was hard to be happy when it was so… ugly. Though you never exactly had a dream trinket as many others do (you’ve always been more interested in the birthstone itself), nothing about a quill trinket sounded desirable to you. It was forgettable. Drab-looking, too. And you could already picture yourself running after it flying away in the wind.

Your mothers quickly caught on to your distaste.

“You don’t like it,” Mother said, her eyebrows furrowing just slightly.

“Eunbi, I told you you shouldn’t have asked Kihoon of all people for trinket suggestions for little girls!” Ma said accusingly. “What would a forty-year-old man know about what a child would want?”

“She’ll grow into it, Sura,” Mother said. “She’ll appreciate it when she’s older.”

“Face it, Eunbi. We fucked up. What ten-year-old would want a damn quill as her trinket?”

“I said, she’ll grow into it.”

“I like my trinket,” you lied to ease the tension in the air. “I really do like it, Ma. Please don’t be angry.”

She looked at you, shaking her head, her dangly earrings swaying back and forth. “Honey, I’m a divinist. You don’t need to lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Don’t lie to Ma,” Mother said.

“I’m not!”

“We can get you a new trinket,” Ma said. “Something that you like.”

“We have a conference next week,” Mother reminded Ma. “We won’t have time.”

“That’s okay,” you told them. “I like this one already.”

They were skeptical, but you proved to them that you did, in fact, like your trinket by carrying it around everywhere, keeping the gray thing pinned to your hair, behind your ear. But on particularly windy days, you always opted to stay home.

Yet never once did you ever consider getting a new trinket; your parents would be devastated. And even with your lacking relationship with them, you never wanted to be their source of trouble. Besides, the heroes in your fairy tales told white lies to save others’ feelings, anyway, and you looked up to these heroes, so it was only natural for you to mirror their behavior. After a while, the quill trinket became a part of you, and you learned to cherish it—but only after you found a way to temporarily color-shift it into more appealing hues.

Your parents didn’t interfere with your life too much, but perhaps that was a good thing. You had more time for yourself. They did, however, occasionally ask how your grades were in school, being scholars and all. It made you feel a degree of pressure to perform well in academia. And for a while, you believed you would one day become an alchemist scholar, which would break your parents’ hearts if you told them, so you never did. They always believed you’d become a divinist as they were, which made sense considering there weren’t many moments where you sat down to discuss with them. So you continued to keep to yourself and read your fairytales as a source of company.

These stories quickly became your solace. On your short walks to school, you liked to pretend you were one of the busy adults, sticking your nose in your books and beelining to your destination. Except, while you were reading tales of great courage and empathy, they were reading their serious manuscripts.

But your childhood wasn’t spent completely alone. You had plenty of friends from school, but they all lived in the 10th city, and you never wanted to bother your parents’ frequent silent reading times to invite them over to your home in the 11th. Besides, you preferred being alone. Other children sometimes tired you, though you never understood why. Perhaps it was because you quickly realized that there was a disconnect.

“My ma said that Pa’s gonna come back this winter! Maybe he’ll bring back some gifts!”

“Where did your pa go?” you’d asked, genuinely curious.

“Don’t you know? Jisun’s father went to war.”

“War?”

There are gasps.

“Y/N, you don’t know that there’s a war?!”

“How do you not know?”

“Why do you think we’re not allowed to go to the 1st city anymore?”

“O-Oh… I…” You had no excuse other than the fact that you were never taught that there was a war. Your parents never mentioned it, and you assumed the wars in your fairytales were always fiction.

“That’s funny, Y/N. I always thought you were gonna fight in the war.”

“Me too!”

“Me?” you asked, bewildered.

“You always carry your trinket with you,” Jisun said, pointing at the pink feather behind your ear. “My ma says only soldiers carry around their trinkets everywhere.”

“I-I just like having it near me…” The heroes in your fairytales carried their trinkets everywhere, to be able to react swiftly when problems occurred.

“My ma won’t even let me leave the house carrying my birthstone,” Jisun continued. “Do your parents want you to become a soldier?”

“No…”

“Oh.” There is a slight pause. “Wanna grab pastries at the bakery? It’s in the 10th city, though.”

“I’m okay,” you said. “I have to go home.”

You’d quickly left that day, locking yourself in your room and staring up at your ceiling in deep thought. A week later, you finally built up the courage to confront your parents.

“Mother, Ma, is there a war?”

Both of your parents looked up from their readings in shock.

“Oh, honey…” Ma said. “Yes… the war…”

The ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ got caught in your throat, but it didn’t matter that you didn’t say it because they seemed to glean it from your expression, anyway.

“We didn’t want you to panic,” Mother said. “But the war has been going on for decades. Over a century, even. It’s a stupid game of power, anyway. The only thing affected by it is the lives of pathetic soldiers.”

“Eunbi!” Ma said. “She’s a child. Let’s try to have some filter, please.”

“She needs to face the reality of the war,” Mother said. She turned to you. “Don’t waste your time and breath on it, Y/N. We’re all above it.”

“My friends told me that they thought I wanted to be a soldier.”

“What?!” Mother said, clearly offended for you. “How?”

“Because I always carry my trinket around.”

“They… don’t carry their trinkets around?” Ma asked.

“No, Ma, they don’t have trinkets yet,” you said.

“What do you mean they don’t have trinkets yet?” Mother frowned.

“Well… It’s just that they’re not allowed to leave the house with their birthstones,” you tried to explain.

Ma turned to Mother, her earrings swaying to and fro. “Did we give her access to her birthstone too early?”

“...Mayhaps,” Mother said. “But it’s too late now.” She made eye contact with you. “Don’t listen to them, Y/N. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re all children,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re not going to be a soldier. That would simply be preposterous.”

“Yes, Eunbi is right,” Ma said, nodding her head. “You’re our destined little scholar, sweetheart.”

Your interactions with your parents were sparse, but that never meant that they didn’t care about you. They found their own ways to show you love, which would have baffled your friends, but your mothers’ peculiar parenting was what you were used to and what you found comfortable. They would often leave new books on your desk. These books were never fairytales—mostly divinist research. But there were occasional alchemy books, too, which you would read over and over again when you were looking for something heavier than your usual fairytales. On weeks when your parents were away to attend conferences, they left you a few extra notes to spend at the mini-markets in the 8th city. They would also leave your thick peacoat out on your chair before you left for school in the mornings if they foresaw the weather taking a cold turn later in the day.

They simply didn’t have time to show it much, but they loved you. And strangely, all you wanted to do was to make them proud, which made you hide away the side of you that longed to become a hero, a successful alchemist—for their sake.

But there were still parts of your parents that you never quite understood.

They often talked about the 12th city, where the castle grounds lay.

“Oh, Eunbi, wouldn’t it be so nice if we could continue our research as royal divinists?”

“Yes, Sura, that does sound quite nice.”

But these conversations never amounted to anything. All your parents ever did was read; you seldom ever saw them write or conduct an experiment to back their claims. But they were divinists, and they were often blinded by their version of the future, no matter how idealistic it was. You didn’t like that they did this, of course. The heroes in your stories set off to make change; they would save entire towns and cities and kingdoms—sometimes even the world. You didn’t understand why your parents were so content with being stagnant on research that could allegedly impact so much.

As you grew older, your patience with your parents grew thin. Maybe there was a little bit of resentment there as well, for how could you flourish and become the best version of yourself if your own two parents had made no progress at all? You wanted to make them feel proud, but you began wondering if they would even care if you achieved anything. It was a horrible thought to have. And maybe it was because you were 12 and your rebellious pre-teen phase was kicking in; you were at that age where everything your parents advised you to do sounded stupid or like a mere suggestion. Or maybe this was how you should have always felt, instead of forgiving them and loving them unconditionally. These thoughts and feelings bubbled up inside of you until one day, they burst.

“Alchemy?” Mother said with a frown on her face. “You never showed any interest in it… Sura, what do you think?”

Ma was also frowning. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” she told you. “Why such a sudden change?”

“There was never a change,” you tried to clarify. “I’ve always been interested in alchemy.”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mother sighed. “We always assumed you were going to be a divinist.”

“But how?” you said, growing frustrated. “Did I ever read your canvases with you? Did I ever play with your runes? Have you ever seen me pick up your research manuscripts?”

“Well, no, but honey, interests change,” Ma said gently. “Divination… Well, it’s in your blood, sweetheart.” Her nose ring seemed to twinkle as she said this, along with her dozens of other piercings. They did that a lot when she was deep in thought, which was just about every second of the day. Usually, you thought the light was pretty; today, you found it annoying.

“We don’t want you to go down an unfamiliar route,” Mother said.

“Yes, Eunbi’s right. You could get yourself hurt without our guidance.”

You had to resist the urge to ask them, ‘Guidance? What guidance?’ But you swallowed those words. It didn’t matter; they probably knew what you were thinking. “You wouldn’t understand,” you told them instead. “Alchemy is what diamonds are good at. Divinists wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh, honey, your birthstone doesn’t dictate what type of magic you decide to specialize in,” Ma said. “There are plenty of diamond holders out there who don’t practice alchemy.”

“But I’m not one of them!”

“How would you know, Y/N? If you’ve never tried divination?” Mother asked. You could tell she was starting to lose her patience. And Ma looked ready to end the conversation.

You wanted to scream. ‘How would I know? I’ll tell you how I know! Because I’ve seen how consumed the two of you have become with divination! Because it’s all talk and no action! Because pattern-recognizing and intuition-honing isn’t real magic, and I want to do something that can make a difference!’

You didn’t say a single word but you swore you saw Ma wilt a little. That’s another thing you’ve always hated about divinists. It’s like they’re always in your head.

After this argument, your parents became even less attentive to you—if that was even possible. They stopped asking about your grades in school, stopped giving you extra allowance when they left for conferences, stopped gifting you books altogether. It made you feel unloved and unwanted, though you tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe their research picked up once more. Maybe they were hurt by your unsaid words and wanted some distance from you to sort their feelings out. Maybe you should apologize.

But the other part of you couldn’t understand why you should apologize for something you never said. And besides, if their love for you had purely been because they thought you were going to follow in their divinist scholar footsteps, then maybe you didn’t want anything to do with them anymore. And in that moment of sadness, confusion, and anger, you impulsively applied to the most prestigious academy in all of Darlae—in part of honing your alchemy skills but also to escape your parents, for the dorms in Botswana Agate Academy were rumored to be as lush as the chambers in the castle grounds. You didn’t think you were going to get in, but miraculously, an acceptance letter appeared in your mailbox one day. Welcome to Botswana Agate Academy, the title read. You nearly cried when you saw it.

You told your parents, of course, and they congratulated you, as any reasonable parents would, but they weren’t so happy when they realized you were accepted into their alchemy division and that the academy required a hefty tuition fee. But attending Botswana was like a dream. They sent you a beautiful uniform, one that was as elegant and pristine as the school, and they even offered to embed your birthstone in a new trinket that was easier to carry around. You considered it, of course, but ultimately decided against it. The quill trinket was really the last thing that tied you and your parents together. And as much as you resented them, you still occasionally felt homesick and longed for the good days when they used to read to you in bed. Besides, you’ve grown quite attached to that ugly gray quill, and as impractical as it was, it was still yours. Like a little quirk. Many heroes in your stories had something that made them special, too.

But ostensibly, you would’ve been considered special even without your unconventional trinket. Botswana taught you that you had a knack for magic. A “natural talent” was what your instructors were calling it. But they never realized how many hours of practice you put in to get this far.

You were adept in putting your skills into action, which showed that externally, you were, in a way, “talented.” But Botswana also emphasized the internal mechanisms of Darlaean magic, which included unfamiliar jargon and technical terminologies. You tried your best to keep up.

“The objective of today’s study,” Instructor Shin began, “is to delineate the differences between our two branches of magic and its three distinct types. Y/N?” she said, pushing up her silver-rimmed glasses and looking at you expectantly. With her thin eyebrows, even thinner red lips and pristine outfits, she was a respectable (and sometimes feared) instructor. Students often tried to impress her, for she was known to write excellent letters of recommendation to get into Botswana Agate’s sister academy for older students: Aven Quartz.

You sat right up when you heard your name, your heart already thumping in your chest. Unfortunately, it was normal for instructors in Botswana to cold call, and while it wasn’t your favorite thing about the academy, you managed to survive by simply overpreparing. “If you could be so kind as to start off the lesson this morning,” Instructor Shin said in her rather soothing voice, “please give a general description, as per the assigned reading, of the two branches for the class.”

Your throat felt parched, but you spent three hours last night hunched over your textbook General Knowledge for Botswana Agate Students (the one that Instructor Shin herself wrote), reciting every line in the 50-page reading, committing it to memory, then doing it over again and over again with your own words until the chapter showed up in your dreams. Still, your mind teetered on the line of going completely blank—public speaking had never quite been your forte—but you also couldn't let your efforts go to waste. “I… I believe the two branches of magic are light and dark,” you said a little hesitantly, fiddling with the quill behind your ear. “Colloquially, we call them rational and emotional magic, but those terms are misguided and outdated. Um… dark magic, if I’m remembering correctly, is the kind of magic that requires deep focus, objective reasoning and logic to cast. If the caster is successful, we would call that charm, a hex. I believe that dark magic is said to be reliable and consistent but can behave unpredictably when attempted to be cast with emotion. And um, light magic… it’s the kind of magic that requires channeling one’s emotions to cast what we call a whim. Its range of abilities tends to fluctuate, depending on the caster’s emotional state, so it has the potential to be extremely powerful—arguably even more so than any dark magic.”

Your hands were shaking by the time you finished speaking, and it didn’t really help that Instructor Shin’s facial expressions were always unreadable, her red lips pressed together eternally. But you must’ve been correct because she gave you a small nod, thanked you for sharing and called on another student to answer another one of her questions about the reading. “Tell me, Joonhee, why are we discouraged to use light magic here in Botswana?”

Joonhee was charismatic and confident, and he never looked nervous when cold-called. “It can be dangerous,” he said without missing a beat. “We want our magic to be reliable and consistent, like Y/N said. Light magic is unpredictable and may go terribly wrong if say, the caster’s emotions are extremely negatively charged. It’s only really condoned for our soldiers to use in the war.”

“That’s correct, Joonhee,” Instructor Shin said, nodding. “Though light magic is a useful branch in the face of danger or chaos, it does not mesh well with our everyday charms. Of course, you will be naturally inclined to one of these two branches,” she told everyone, “but to do well in Botswana Agate, you must learn the importance of dark magic. Now, Jangmi, can you tell us if our birthstones dictate the branch of magic we naturally gravitate toward?”

“Our birthstones do not,” Jangmi said confidently. “But I think they do dictate the type of magic we are the best at.”

“To an extent, yes,” Instructor Shin said. “But the general consensus is that anyone can excel at either branch of magic and every type of magic. I, for one, am a so-called destined divinist,” she said, holding up her black pointer, adorned with an emerald at the top, for the entire class to see. “But I teach alchemy at Botswana. Some of you may know me as your instructor for Introduction to Alchemy, and I would like to think that I am fairly skilled at it. So, students,” she said, “never feel limited by your birthstone. Now, Donghoon, what are the three different types of magic and which birthstones are associated with what?”

But poor Donghoon looked like he forgot to do the reading yet again. “I-I… uh, a-alchemy,” he stuttered, “...and healing… um…” He struggled to recall the last one.

“Divination,” Jangmi whispered next to him.

“Divination!” Donghoon magically remembered. “A-And… the birthstones associated… Uh…” He desperately looked down at the little pocket watch he always carried around—not to check the time, but to stare at the shining green peridot inside the glass. It seemed to make things slightly easier for him because you watched his eyes light up for a second. “For alchemy, there is peridot…” he trailed off, already stuck, but when he made eye contact with you, his eyebrows rose in remembrance: “Oh! And diamond…”

Instructor Shin was becoming impatient, however, so she interrupted him. “Let’s do our daily readings on time, Donghoon. Haeyun, could you tell us, please?”

“Yes, Instructor Shin,” Haeyun said. “There are four birthstones associated with each magic type. For healing, they are aquamarine, garnet, ruby and opal. For alchemy, they are diamond, alexandrite, peridot and citrine. For divination, they are amethyst, emerald, sapphire and zircon.”

“Correct,” Instructor Shin said. “Well, Donghoon, do you think you can enlighten us with your definition of alchemy?”

“I actually know this one!” Donghoon looked excited. “It’s the study of matter and small particles and using that knowledge to reshape our perceptions of them! The basics include color and size-shifting. More difficult charms include masking and true alchemy, which is just turning material into gold. Also, you can technically create things out of thin air, but it’s near impossible. But I’ve heard it’s been done before!” Donghoon sat back in his chair a little too smugly for someone who always neglected to do the readings. But his father was Head Instructor, so nothing could be done.

“Very good, Donghoon,” Instructor Shin said, issuing one of her rare compliments. “You’re correct. While gold has no monetary value in Darlae, in the past, and before the blockade, we profited from our gold trade, thanks to our alchemists. You’ll learn more about this with Instructor No in Darlaean History. It is also nearly impossible, as you’ve said, to create something out of nothing, but it has been done in the past. Our head instructor, fifty years ago, accomplished this. Head Instructor Jeon was his name. He created a small wine glass from nothing, and we still have it in memory of him. It is displayed in our dining hall if you would like to see it after class,” Instructor Shin said quite proudly. “Now, who would like to explain healing and divination in their own words?”

Even though there was the constant fear of being cold-called, you quite enjoyed Instructor Shin’s General Knowledge course. It was one of those courses that every first-year Botswana Agate student was required to take—like Darlaean History—and you could see why. Though the class was often densely packed with information and the readings never seemed to end, it was also enlightening and put much of your early experience with magic into words. Some struggled with it more than others.

“Hell, I totally fucking blanked in there,” Donghoon said as he scratched his head and nearly spilled the contents of his book bag as he adjusted the shoulder straps. You helped him steady the bag and he shot you a grateful look.

“Are you sure you didn’t just forget to do the reading?” Joonhee snorted as he walked past you and Donghoon, not even giving him a chance to answer. It’s a little rude, but Joonhee’s always been like that: confident, charismatic and cocky.

“Don’t worry about him,” you told Donghoon as the two of you began to walk to your next class, which happened to be an unpopular elective called Fashion Studies. You were only placed in it because you enrolled late—your parents didn’t have the time to sign some papers that would’ve made you an official Botswana student. And Donghoon was only placed in it because he forgot to enroll in half of his classes.

“I don’t really worry,” Donghoon said. He just shrugged good-naturedly. “He and I are in different leagues. He’ll probably become the damn General of the Darlaean Army one day. I’d be lucky if I even pass a single class here.”

You frowned. “Don’t say that.”

Donghoon shrugged again. “I’m only here because of my father. Everyone knows that. I’m just waiting to be kicked out so I can achieve my lifelong dream of starting a tea shop. I don’t need alchemy for that.” He suddenly looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then, he leaned in with a mischievous look on his face. “I wouldn’t even need Darlaean magic. I’d need Solaria’s.”

You raised your eyebrows. Why was he telling you this? Was it a test to see if you agreed? He was his father’s son after all, and there was an extreme backlash in the scholar community against Head Instructor Kim for so openly supporting the Darlaean Army when Botswana instructors were to remain neutral about the war. You decided to tread carefully. “Really? With the elements and stuff?”

“Yeah,” Donghoon said. “I’d need fire to boil the water and earth for the tea leaves.” He looked at you strangely. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you? You don’t seem like the type.”

“N-No, of course not. I’m just… surprised.”

“My father and I are different people,” Donghoon said with a shrug. “He can eat shit for all I care. I don’t support the war. It’s just stupid. People dying left and right. And for what?”

“People die out there?” you asked incredulously.

“What did you think they were doing? Playing tea party? Of course they die out there—our people, their people. We just don’t hear the stories because we’re so far in, you know, being in the 11th city most of the time. Most of our parents are rich enough to keep us sheltered. And we sure as hell don’t learn about it in Darlaean History ‘cause ‘neutrality’ and all that bull. But we might start this new curriculum focusing solely on Solarian war crimes. Courtesy of my father, you know. He thinks it’ll help with showcases, which are military propaganda by the way.”

“Oh…” This conversation surprised you. Donghoon was often characterized as stupid and ditzy by others. He’s the spoiled, stuck-up brat who leeched off of his successful father and had rocks for brains. But that most certainly wasn’t correct. It simply looked like he cared about things outside what Botswana could offer.

“Anyways,” Donghon sighed, “you’re smart, so I’m sure you’ll make correct judgments.” When he caught you frowning, he grinned. “You act humbly, but you’re top of your classes.”

Your face heated up. “Oh, I… I still don’t understand why they publicly post the class rankings…”

“It’s ‘tradition for excellence,’” Donghoon mockingly quoted while holding in a laugh. “And it’s supposed to motivate people like me. Obviously, it’s not working. Anyways, you know, you’re really good at alchemy. Really, really good.”

“O-Oh,” you said, feeling bashful. “Thanks. But I’m not naturally good or anything. I just put in a lot of effort.”

“Mhm sure. There are people like Jangmi who put in the effort but still can’t cast charms successfully, you know. She’s within the top ten in every class except Intro to Alch—the only class that doesn’t use a textbook. Magic doesn’t come so intuitively for others.”

Donghoon was strangely observant. You looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t know…”

Your response must have not been so satisfactory. “Hmph. You’re pretty shy, aren’t you?” Donghoon said. “I feel like every time we talk, well, I’m the one who’s talking.”

That made you crack a smile. “I enjoy listening.”

“Well, I enjoy talking.” Donghoon mirrored your smile. “Anyways, let’s go make some damn clothes while people die on the battlegrounds!”

From that point forward, you and Donghoon became close friends. He was easy to be around and didn’t see you as a competition as many of the other students did. He also always declined your offers to study with him, saying that it was only a matter of time before his father would have no choice but to let him drop out of the academy. “I’m aiming for failing grades in every single class,” he told you on your way to Introduction to Alchemy with Instructor Shin.

“Your tea shop dream would be closer than ever,” you said with a smile.

“You get me, Y/N,” was his enthused response as the two of you found your seats in the classroom in the second row.

Today’s class focused solely on color-shifting. Instructor Shin handed out red apples and told everybody to turn them blue. She gave no further instruction, stepping back and simply watching. For you, this was a simple task; after all, you’ve been color-shifting for more than half of your life now. First, you must become extremely aware of the feather behind your ear, feeling the power emanating from your birthstone. Then, closing your eyes, you imagined a world where apples were blue. They’ve always been blue! It was quite the norm. Blue apples growing on trees, blue apple pies, blue apple jam—you’ve all seen it before. Every time you’ve bitten into an apple, its skin has been a beautiful, shiny, navy blue. Why should the apple in front of you be any different?

When you opened your eyes, sure enough, the apple sitting in front of you was blue—the same deep blue you’d imagined in your head.

Instructor Shin’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t say anything.

Donghoon laughed. “Y/N, in three seconds?!”

You could feel the heat crawl onto your cheeks as you felt every students’ eyes on you. Particularly, you felt Joonhee’s glare at the back of your head. And for the next several minutes, you watched the students around you try their hand at color-shifting for the first time. Most of them were able to change the color of their apples, but it was rarely ever blue. You saw a lot of purples and oranges. And Donghoon, who by habit only practiced light magic, accidentally cast a frustrated whim, which made the apple rot rapidly before your shared desk.

He snorted at his own failure and turned to you. “See?” he said. “I told you that you’re good.”

“I’ve just done this before,” you said.

“How?” Donghoon asked. “Didn’t your parents restrict your birthstone access until you were accepted to Botswana? I know a lot of families who did that in the 10th city.”

“Not really,” you said. “They let me carry it around since I was ten.”

“Hell, they really trusted you.”

It was always a little more like they didn’t trust themselves with you, but Donghoon didn’t have to know that. And besides, now you were partly thankful for your parents’ negligence. It looked like strict parenting stanched magical growth. But thinking about your parents made you feel a little guilty inside since you knew full well that you partly applied to Botswana to escape them after your horrible argument. Still, you tried not to show your inner turmoils and shrugged.

“I guess they did,” you said. “You need me to shift that back? Temporarily, though. I don’t think I’m good enough to do it permanently.”

Donghoon’s eyes widened. “You know how to do that?”

“I’ve never tried, but all I’d have to do is imagine a world where nothing ever rots. And that it’s always been that way.”

“Dark magic, huh?” Donghoon said. “I didn’t pin you for that type, but you’re good.”

You shrugged, and in a few seconds’ time, the apple looked ripe and red again—at least for the remaining class period. You and Donghoon fell into deep conversation after that, mostly Donghoon complimenting your skills and you becoming embarrassed. The two of you failed to notice Instructor Shin looking straight at you with an unreadable look on her face.

Every circa, Botswana Agate Academy invited each student’s parents to what they called Consulting. This entailed the student’s instructors reviewing the student’s standing in their classes and offering the student potential career pathways or advice to excel in the future. Most parents who sent their children to Botswana wanted to know anything and everything about how their money was being used. Your parents, unfortunately, had to attend a last-minute divination conference with their fellow scholars. So last-minute that in fact, rescheduling your Consulting was impossible.

So you sat awkwardly before your three instructors, nervously playing with your trinket behind your ear. “I’m sorry,” you said, embarrassed. “I told them the date three weeks ago… And reminded them frequently…”

“It’s no matter,” Instructor Shin said. “Consulting only concerns you, Kwang Y/N, so you’re all we need to begin.” She shuffled the small stack of papers in front of her and her two co-instructors. “Your rankings are considerably high,” she began. “In the top fifty for all four of your classes. Number one for Introduction to Alchemy, among 600 other students. You’re off to an excellent start.”

You’ve never been able to take compliments well. “Thank you,” you squeaked, awkwardly looking at your hands.

“You naturally gravitate towards dark magic and you were accepted into our alchemy division, so I assume you are also alchemy-inclined.”

You nodded.

“I have a question for you, Y/N,” Instructor Shin suddenly said, which surprised you, for she was always the kind of person who knew everything. “Your parents are divinist scholars, yes? Did they also teach you the ropes of alchemy?”

You shook your head. “No, Instructor Shin. They didn’t.”

“Self-taught?”

“Well, I read many books,” you said. “Um… fairytales, really. But a lot of the… um, a lot of the heroes were alchemy-inclined, so naturally…” It felt so stupid to admit.

Instructor Shin nodded. “I am impressed,” she said, to your surprise. “I have not met many students who have taught themselves the ropes of dark alchemy so well in quite a long time. I want you to audit my Advanced Alchemy course, and if that feels like a better fit, I want you to take it instead of your introductory course and skip the intermediate course entirely. How does that sound?”

Your eyes widened. “A-Amazing,” you managed to whisper in awe. “T-Thank you. Thank you, Instructor Shin.”

It almost felt like a dream. You? How could someone like you impress someone so skilled and intelligent as Instructor Shin? Not only did she want you to skip one course level but also two? How highly did she think of you to suggest such a thing? You would be sitting in class with students two or three years older than you!

It was the dream—to be able to hone your alchemy skills and actually be challenged in class. And yet… You nervously began to play with the feather behind your ear. Why did you suddenly feel an empty pit in your stomach? It was that feeling of dread, which was the last thing you should be feeling with all this good news. But you couldn’t help it. The thing about good first impressions was that there wasn’t much room to be better. (The charismatic villain in your fairytales always gave off a great first impression!) So how long would it take for Instructor Shin to be disappointed in you? How long would it take before you simply became another student in the crowd for her? How long would it take for you to lose the only support you’ve ever had?

You were no prodigy. You were definitely not a genius, either. What Instructor Shin didn’t know was the amount of time and effort you’ve put into your craft. You didn’t wake up one day able to color-shift in the blink of an eye. You worked your way up to it with much trial and error and sleepless nights in your living room. Your peers simply weren’t given access to their birthstones as early as you were. If they had, they’d probably be at your skill level or even higher. So what if you weren’t able to keep up? What if Advanced Alchemy ended up being too advanced for you? How disappointed would Instructor Shin be?

She seemed to sense your uncertainty, which was so palpable that even a non-divinist could feel it. To your surprise, she smiled, her thin red lips curving slightly upwards. You’ve never seen her do such a thing. But her smile was kind and warm and softened her eyes, and it alone almost made you feel a little better.

“My care for my students is never conditional,” she said gently.

Your head jerked up as you met her stare with startled eyes.

“No matter what you achieve and don’t achieve, I will always wish you the best,” Instructor Shin said. “But you don’t need to worry too much. I believe your accomplishments will stretch far beyond what Botswana Agate can offer. I don’t have to be a royal divinist to see it.”

An unconditional support system. It felt almost unheard of—something you’ve only ever seen in fairytales. You’ve tiptoed around your parents for years in fear that they would treat you differently after you confessed to them that divination in your future wasn’t likely. In fact, they did treat you differently after your confession, which you supposed subconsciously taught you that maybe their care was somewhat conditional.

So to have an adult tell you that they would never retract their care for you… It defied everything you’ve known up until now.

You could feel the emotions swelling in your chest. On the one hand, you were grateful. You’ve always dreamed of having a mentor in your life who truly, absolutely cared for you, and you’ve finally found one. But on the other hand, what about your parents? How was it that an instructor you’ve known for one circa understood you better than your parents ever have? They couldn’t even come to your Consulting! Couldn’t make a thirty-minute slot in their schedules for you. But here you were, hearing from Instructor Shin that you were an excellent student. They would never know of it. Nor did you think they’d care. Or maybe they would. Maybe they were still waiting for you to apologize for that day. A small part of you wished that was true. Because them being angry at you would be infinitely better than them not simply caring. But deep down inside, you knew what was really the case.

Before you knew it, tears streamed down your face.

At first, they were tears of sadness, for you couldn’t help but pity yourself and feel horrible that you continued to push your parents away from your life. But when Instructor Shin took a sheet of paper from the stack in front of her and masked it into a handkerchief, handing it to you with a look of endearment on her face, your tears of sadness turned into tears of joy.

You wanted to achieve great things—not for fame, not for recognition—but for a cause bigger than yourself. Instructor Shin believed in you, so what was really stopping you? You wanted to leave a mark, an impact. Just like the heroes in your fairytales. Every great hero had a mentor who pushed them to be better and inspired them to be resilient. While dabbing your tears away, you vowed that you would work harder than ever before, for now, you had Instructor Shin, who was willing to give you unconditional support. Your dream of one day becoming a hero—of any scale—felt closer than ever before.

Surprisingly enough, Fashion Studies was quite interesting. There were no required readings, no required magic skill set. All you had to bring to the class was a creative mind and a penchant for aesthetics. There, you learned about different fabrics, textures, colors, and the latest fashion trends in Darlae. At first, you and Donghoon couldn’t care much about clothes, but by the end of the second circa at Botswana, the two of you were speaking in common fashion parlance, going on frequent shopping trips in the 8th city and finding the school uniforms to be restricting your artistic freedom.

In your second Consulting at Botswana Agate, your Fashion Studies instructor, Instructor Yang noted that he never met students like you and Donghoon who were so excited to take his measly fashion course. Most students took electives that required “a little more brain-power” as Instructor Yang put it. You thought it was hilarious to hear that Donghoon was at the top of the class for Fashion Studies, which was the complete opposite of what he wanted.

“I got a little carried away,” was his excuse when you told him the news. “Hell, I’m gonna need to start slacking for my ultimate plan to work. There’s no way I’m going to let this class be the single piece of evidence my father uses to force me to stay here.”

With Donghoon trying to come up with more and more creative ways of getting expelled (refusing to wear the school uniform, never doing his homework, arriving to exams an entire hour late), your first year at Botswana was never dull.

Your Advanced Alchemy class was the perfect fit for your skill level too. You were being challenged (but not so much that you felt like you were behind), and the older students didn’t really see you as a competition but respected you as one of their peers. They also told you everything you needed to know about Botswana Agate—the good and the bad. But mostly the bad.

“Did you know there are rumors that the curriculum at the academy will change soon?”

“They’re going to make it pro-war, those bastards.”

“Head Instructor Kim is going to run this place to the fucking ground.”

“I heard they’re going to be making courses centered around light magic.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“I mean, you’ve seen how often soldiers have been patrolling the corridors and listening in on our classes, right? They’re totally trying to recruit for the army.”

“Yeah, I heard they’re going to start making showcases mandatory.”

“The next thing you know they’re going to make military enlistment mandatory.”

“I heard it’s like that in Solaria.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they just knock on your door, drag you out and force you to fight.”

“Where did you hear that from?”

“Well… To be honest, from our soldiers. So it could also be stupid propaganda. I mean, since we’re on a volunteer-based enlistment and our army would do anything to look better than the Solarians. But who knows? Things are changing.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them. If I were them, I’d be embarrassed that the war’s been dragging on for this long. It’s crazy that neither side has agreed to a truce.”

If there was one thing you knew very clearly about Botswana students it was that most of them hated the war. It must be some sort of scholarly instinct. But, of course, there were always outliers.

Joonhee and his band of friends were as pro-army as one could get. They saluted every soldier they passed in the corridors, straightening up their posture and pressing two fingers to their forehead with their other arm glued to their side. You knew Donghoon was joking when he said that Joonhee would one day become the General of the Darlaean Army, but it didn’t really seem like a joke anymore.

“He’s batshit crazy, that one,” Donghoon told you, shaking his head. “He has to be the dumbest genius alive to waste his talents in the army.”

“Do you really think that they’re going to start to make showcases mandatory?” you said, brows furrowing.

“The parents would never approve,” Donghoon said. “Except my father. Even your parents don’t support the war.”

“So who the hell supports it?”

“Unfortunately, just about every other city,” he said with a shrug. “It’s just that scholars don’t believe in violence to solve problems. That and we don’t have that much hatred in our hearts.”

“I don’t get why your father can support the war, then.”

“Honestly, I think he’s after the money. You know, we get paid just to let the soldiers walk around our campus. The army thinks it’s ‘good exposure’ since they’re looking to recruit top talent.”

“Top talent, huh?” You sighed. “Your father must be getting paid one hell of a lot to let them change Botswana’s curriculum.”

“How do you think we bought our new summer home?” Donghoon laughed but soon stopped when you didn’t follow.

“I don’t get it,” you said. “Why would anyone want to go to war? Don’t you die out there?”

“Maybe they like the thrill,” Donghoon said. “I don’t get it either. You should ask Joonhee. He looks like he’s ready to enlist any day now.”

“But we’re only 12!”

“The younger the better,” Donghoon said. “We’re more malleable that way.”

“Malleable…” you repeated.

For someone who claimed they never read, Donghoon had quite the vocabulary. He cursed like a sailor, too, which you’ve unintentionally begun picking up. But besides the influence of linguistics, the more time you spent with Donghoon, the more you became impressed with his character. To you, Donghoon was the protagonist in your fantasy novels—a little bit of an outcast but with a set purpose in life and a passion that never seemed to dull. He may be thought of as goofy by his peers and instructors, but it was all calculated. He was a lot smarter and wiser than people thought. And you liked that he knew so much more than you. You had a lot to learn.

“You know, the soldiers have been looking at the class rankings these days,” Donghoon told you, giving you a meaningful look.

“The rankings?” you said, a frown creasing your forehead.

“Yeah. I’d say expect to be harassed by them very, very soon,” he said.

Sometimes it seemed like everyone except you was a divinist.

Donghoon’s prediction came true in just two days when three soldiers barged into your classroom, swinging the doors open so violently that they banged raucously against the walls. Their jet-black uniforms (even with the silver and purple stitchings) made them look like soot against the pure white interior of the room—like they didn’t belong here. And they didn’t. You could think of at least five other uniform designs that would’ve looked less intimidating, but perhaps intimidation was what they were going for.

The loud noise interrupted Instructor Shin mid-sentence and she glared at the intruders for a split second before continuing her lecture on Darlae’s 12 cities as if nothing had happened at all.

“Ahem.”

Instructor Shin ignored the soldier clearing his throat.

“Ahem.”

At this point, most if not every student had turned their heads toward the three soldiers at the back of the class, wondering if anyone was in trouble. Soldiers often audited classes but they never interrupted or drew attention to themselves. So this was quite new.

“If you could so kindly clear your throat outside so my students could continue with their lesson,” Instructor Shin sighed, looking up to glare at the soldiers. They looked unfazed, however.

“We’d like a word with a few of your students,” the soldier who was having problems with his throat spoke.

“Then it must wait until after class,” Instructor Shin said, swiftly. She pointed at the door with her black pointer. “Please kindly leave.”

“This is an order,” the soldier said, not moving one bit.

“Oh, yes, from who?” Instructor Shin asked, her eyebrows raising as they did when she believed one was lying.

“From Head Instructor Kim.”

Instructor Shin didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t take orders from that individual,” she answered, and before he could retort back, she continued: “You are walking on the territory of scholars, soldier. We do not follow orders from anyone here. We question and we think for ourselves. You may suggest and you may discuss, but you do not order—especially not in my classroom.” She paused, still glaring at the three soldiers. “You may leave now.”

The atmosphere in the room grew tense when they didn’t.

“I’m under the impression that you’re merely suggesting we leave,” the soldier said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And we are suggesting speaking to some of your students.”

Donghoon gave you a look from right next to you, and you can read what he meant as clear as day. ‘Can you fucking believe the nerve?’

“I will not allow my students to follow you out of my classroom and away from my supervision,” Instructor Shin said. “What you need to say to those students, you will say to everyone in this room.”

“You’re difficult, aren’t you?” the soldier said.

“As are you,” she replied. “Well? Don’t waste our time, now, soldier. Share with the class what was so important that you had to interrupt precious class time for.”

Another soldier stepped up, as if on cue, and pulled out a list from inside her stiff coat. “Lee Joonhee, Kwang Y/N, Choi Jangmi,” she read off in a monotone voice. Your eyes widened when you heard your name. “You have been selected as the top students in this cohort of the General Knowledge course. The Darlaean Army recognizes your excellent academic standing and would like to extend an offer to join our rigorous training program for adolescents. This is a valuable opportunity to strengthen your magic with future leaders of the army and prepare to fight for your nation to defeat our common enemy. Congratulations on your selection and we await your decision to accept.”

You could almost hear the ‘I told you so’ that Donghoon didn’t say but was most definitely thinking.

There was also a deafening and painfully awkward silence that followed after the soldier’s speech. It seemed like everyone was staring at you, Joonhee and Jangmi. The other two were practically bathing in the spotlight, but you suddenly felt the need to duck down and hide from the unwanted stares.

The bigger issue, though, was the fact that the soldiers still hadn’t left the classroom. Did they expect the three of you to decide whether you would accept on the spot? And if so, how would you let them down politely but firmly? It was really no question that you didn’t want this. Why the hell would you want to uproot your perfectly fine life at Botswana to join some training program that would inevitably make a soldier out of you? The last thing you wanted was to become involved in the war. So why were they acting as if this was a wonderful opportunity for you? War was where you went to die. How could you set yourself up for death when you had yet so much to accomplish?

“I accept!” Joonhee announced, interrupting your thoughts. “I happily accept, sir.” He saluted dutifully. “Thank you!”

You and Jangmi glanced at each other.

“I’d like some more time to decide,” Jangmi finally said.

You could feel your heart beating in your head. Now all eyes were on you, awaiting your answer, and you hated it. You didn’t owe the army anything, so why was it so damn hard to say no? You could also use Jangmi’s answer to stall for some time, but that would mean they’d hunt you down later to get a definitive response. Should you keep your rejection short and simple? Or did you need to explain yourself to keep them from getting offended? But then again, why would you care that they’ll be offended? They were clearly not-so-great people, disrespecting Instructor Shin in front of her own students! Yes, you should simply reject them. They’re used to curt replies, you assumed, taking orders from right and left, so it couldn’t hurt them if you declined their offer.

With a deep breath, you collected the strength to finally give your response. But it came out as a loud, flat, echoing, “NO.”

The sound of your own voice startled you; it also seemed to startle many others as your classmates stared at you in what you thought looked like disbelief. But it made sense. You usually never spoke so curtly, and you surely never had a reason to raise your voice. You were immediately scrambling to explain yourself. “I-I mean, no thank you… sir. I mean, sirs. I-I would… I would like to focus on my studies.”

“Very well,” the throat-clearing prone soldier said. He didn’t sound disappointed, though he did still look mildly annoyed from the encounter he just had with Instructor Shin. He and the two other soldiers saluted to no one in particular, and they finally exited the classroom.

When the heavy white doors slammed shut, loud chatter uptook the room. You and Donghoon watched as everyone else began to swarm around Joonhee.

“Why did you accept so quickly?”

“Are you going to drop out of Botswana?”

“Do your parents know?”

“Your parents are going to kill you!”

“Quiet!” Instructor Shin yelled in a voice so loud it echoed in the commodious room. Silence. Everybody scrambled back into their seats. Instructor Shin sighed as she gripped the edges of the marble podium. “I apologize for the distraction and for my harsh behavior. As you may already be aware, things are shifting here at Botswana Agate Academy. The army is looking to expand, and they would like to join hands with Darlae’s brightest. You will learn more about the war once some new courses are approved. I’m afraid it won’t be anything like Darlaean History, for those of you who enjoy that course. Things are changing, indeed…” She sighed again, shaking her head. “But for now, we will continue our lesson, students. And Joonhee? I’d like to see you after class.”

Everyone ooh-ed.

Donghoon rolled his eyes but you frowned.

“What do you think she held him back for?” you asked Donghoon as the two of you walked out of Instructor Shin’s class.

“Probably to warn him about the army,” Donghoon said, shrugging. “Let him go for all I care. He’ll become General one day.”

“Do you think Jangmi’s going to end up declining the offer?”

“Maybe,” Donghoon said. “I’m not sure. Her parents are scholars like yours, though, so they’ll probably never let her go.” He turned to you with a smile on your face. “But good for you for yelling their rejection to their faces.”

“I didn’t mean to yell!”

“Well, you did, Y/N,” Donghoon laughed. “They’re delusional if they think you’d ever join their stupid little fistfight club.”

“I just think it’s crazy they singled us out,” you said. “It must be some sort of strategy. You know, to make us feel special and accept their offer. They made it sound so grand, too.”

“It’s all bullshit,” Donghoon snorted. “Let’s hope they don’t follow you around, though. I’ve heard they’ve been doing that to a few upperclassmen.”

Donghoon’s hopes, unfortunately, didn’t come true. By the time you were back home from the academy for winter recess, your parents had a stack of letters from the army waiting for you in your bedroom.

“Honey?” Ma asked, a crease on her forehead. “Have you been getting involved with the army?”

“No,” you said, sighing as you threw the letters in the trash. “I’m just on their radar.”

“Their radar?” Mother said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s that pathetic Head Instructor of yours. Money-hungry pig.”

“Eunbi…” Ma said gently.

“It needs to be said,” Mother replied curtly.

“I’ve just been… Well, I know you haven’t been able to be there for my past Consultings, but I’ve been doing well at the academy,” you said, though admitting it feels a little strange. “I received an invitation to join their rigorous training program for adolescents. But don’t worry!” you quickly added after seeing your parents’ faces. “I declined.”

“They don’t take rejection well, it seems,” Mother snorted. “A couple of soldiers have been showing up at our doorstep and asking for you.”

“They have?” you asked in shock.

Ma nodded. “But once we move, we should be left alone for a while. ”

“Not unless they’re so desperate they find our new address,” Mother said, shaking her head.

“Move?” you asked, eyes widening. “Why are we moving?”

You’ve lived in this home for as long as you can remember. How could you let go of the cozy living room with its infinite number of reading nooks? The tall windows, the emerald green carpet, and the security of your room—you didn’t want to leave it.

You caught Ma giving Mother a worried look, and Mother cleared her throat. “Well…” She sighed. “Y/N, as divinist scholars, Sura and I make sacrifices to continue our research. You know that, don’t you? Recently… we have realized that our finances have been…” She searched for a word. “Bare.”

“Bare?” you repeated. Are we poor? you wanted to ask.

Ma answered anyway. “We’re not poor yet, sweetheart. We’re just a little in the rough, that’s all.”

“Sura and I have got it under control,” Mother said. “We’ll sell this home and move into a smaller one.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Ma said with a smile. It looked strained.

Your heart sank.

It was something to worry about. Your parents had been researching their entire lives, but they had never been close to bankruptcy. It dawned on you rather quickly that the only reason they were struggling now was you. You and Botswana Agate Academy.

“I can drop out,” you offered. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted it. What if your parents agreed? What if they did pull you out of Botswana? The palace-like architecture, the beautiful classrooms, dining hall, dorms… The endless knowledge in the grand libraries… Hell, it was like a second home to you. Your very own fairytale. Donghoon would also be absolutely livid that you were able to leave before him. And what about Instructor Shin? Your unconditional supporter? She would be so disappointed.

“That’s not an option, Y/N,” Mother said, to your surprise. “You will finish your education—whether it’s in divination or not.”

“Yes,” Ma agreed. “We couldn’t ask you to make sacrifices, honey.”

You didn’t argue against that—you didn’t want to.

But it still hurt a few circas later when your parents greeted you at the new doorstep of a significantly smaller home. The roof was battered, the walls a little tattered. There were no more bookshelves, so the books stacked up like pillars supporting the low ceiling. It was a one-room home, with no more reading nooks, no more windows and barely any natural light. The emerald green carpet where you’d taught yourself color-shifting was nowhere to be found—sent off to the 8th city to be sold for extra notes.

Your parents acted as if nothing had changed, however. And by that, you meant they were still a little distant, their noses buried deep in their books. It was almost as if they didn’t notice the change in the surroundings. But it was evident that they had lost weight. And it was hard to watch them hunch over and squint to read the small text in their manuscripts in the dim windowlessness of your new home.

If you were more adept in alchemy, you would’ve helped them remodel the home, but permanent shifts to larger items were something that even the best alchemists struggled with. It was also around this time when you realized that even after the argument you had with your parents earlier this year, they really, truly loved you. They wouldn’t be starving themselves, living in a small shack with no lights and bedrooms if they didn’t care. It pained you inside to think that you ever doubted them. How could you ever think that Instructor Shin was your only unconditional support when your parents had splurged the entirety of their finances on you? The guilt ate at you alive, and momentarily, your performance in the academy dropped as you processed your revelation.

“Something is bothering you,” Instructor Shin said, pulling you aside after the Advanced Alchemy lecture. Her face was stoic, yet her tone was gentle. “Are the soldiers harassing you?”

You shook your head. The soldiers have already moved on from you and Jangmi, having found older and more talented students to prey on.

“You haven’t been paying attention,” Instructor Shin said, but it was without disappointment—as if she was merely stating a fact and delicately probing you to answer why.

“I’m sorry, Instructor Shin,” you said, looking at your shoes.

Instructor Shin gave you a look that you could not discern. “Final examinations are approaching,” she said. “Try your best.”

You nodded, though you were unsure how you were going to concentrate on your studies in the lavish libraries of Botswana Agate when you knew your parents were at home skipping meals to fund your schooling. When you made it out of the classroom, the grand doors shutting behind you, Donghoon was immediately by your side. He must’ve been waiting for you.

“What was that about?” he naturally asked. “Did she tell you off because your rank dropped twenty places?”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t really a telling off…”

Donghoon raised his eyebrows. “Really? Not even a little scolding?”

“No… She seemed worried.”

“Well, did you give her something to worry about?”

How could Donghoon, the son of the rich Head Instructor of Botswana Agate Academy, understand the financial struggles of a meager divinist scholar family? And besides, if you told him that you were poor, he might try to help, and you would never want to burden him in that manner.

So you shook your head again, forcing yourself to smile. “I think you’re rubbing off on me, Donghoon.”

He snorted in laughter. “Thanks,” he replied, though he didn’t look like he fully believed your lie. “I’m on a mission to become the worst student ever admitted to this damn academy.”

Then three days later, two weeks before final examinations, Donghoon managed to drop out.

Well, dropping out wouldn’t be quite the right words; he was expelled. It took Donghoon almost one entire school year to realize his horrible marks weren’t enough of an excuse to convince his father to allow him to quit the academy. So he simply took another route and threatened to obliterate the most important artifact in all of Botswana: past Head Instructor Jeon’s alchemy miracle, the wine glass created from nothing. Donghoon was just seconds away from smashing the glass in front of everyone in the dining hall when his father ran in, completely red and breathless and expelled him on the spot. Donghoon left swiftly, having already packed his bags a week prior. It stung just a little that he didn’t really say goodbye, but maybe that was a good thing. You didn’t think you could’ve handled any more sadness.

Losing a friend took a toll on you, and that, stacked with worrying about your parents, stressed you so much that you missed an entire week of classes. It was only two days before your first final exam when you realized that moping around pitying yourself was something that the hero of your fairytales would never do. How pathetic! What happened to the girl who wanted to make an impact? The little girl who one day wanted to be a hero? Why was she crying over a friend who was now much happier? Why had she stopped studying when her parents sacrificed so much to put her in this academy?

You realized then and there that doing your utmost best in Botswana would be one of the biggest ways in which you could repay your parents—at least attempt to, for you could never truly repay what they’ve sacrificed for you. And so, in less than 48 hours, you crammed circa’s worth of information into your brain and practiced your alchemy skills until no end, forgoing sleep to do so. You managed to do decently on your exams, though not as amazing as you would’ve done had you never gone through a slump, but the recovery made you proud of yourself.

And as if there had been no hiccups at all, life ambled on.

Your third year at Botswana was much busier than the last two. You were juggling more difficult classes, along with two part-time tutoring jobs and another one as Instructor Shin’s Intro to Alchemy teaching assistant. The pay wasn’t outstanding for any of your odd jobs, but it allowed you to alleviate a bit of the financial burden off of your parents’ shoulders. You still managed to find the time to visit Donghoon occasionally, too. He had set up a nice little tea shop in the 8th city and loved to serve you his newest loose-leaf creations. Sometimes, he’d make his assistant watch over his shop and take you shopping around the 8th city—the two of you had never lost your penchant for clothes since Fashion Studies. You rarely bought anything, though you one day dreamed of owning closets filled with an assortment of fancy gowns and elegant petticoats.

You didn’t quite need to purchase clothes, either. You owned two pairs of the academy’s uniform, which was sufficient enough. And fabric was cheap in the 8th city’s mini-markets, so you purchased those in increments and shifted them into your desired designs. The shifts for larger pieces of clothing were only temporary, considering the expanse of the fabric and the complexity of the design, but after some trial and error (and an embarrassing number of sleepless nights), you were able to permanently shift scarves and gloves for your parents just in time for the winter.

Little by little, your alchemy skills grew.

Color-shifting and size-shifting were now considered elementary in your more advanced courses, and it was now expected of you to be able to shift the colors and patterns of items permanently. Examinations often tested the longevity of your color-shifts, which was at times nerve-wracking because it took days of waiting to see whether your charms worked the way you intended them to. Size-shifting from small to large items, and vice versa, was still a difficult task, and it was tested less often as even more experienced alchemists struggled with turning a pencil into the size of a bed. And masking was not tested at all, for it was out of the scope of what Botswana Agate could teach its young students. But that never stopped you from attempting to master it; you would inevitably learn it in Aven Quartz, anyway—hopefully, you’d have the finances for it.

So you began small, masking quill pens into tulips, masking goblets into bowls. The masking never quite lasted, but the fact that it worked in the first place was a miracle. You sought extra guidance from Instructor Shin, who was more than delighted to help. And by the middle of your third year, you were comfortably able to mask smaller items for an hour (or two if you were lucky). It wasn’t good enough for you, but it was good enough for your instructors, who informed you of your high rankings time and time again during your Consultings.

What always fueled you to push yourself further was the memory of your mothers when you first visited your new home two years ago. Their thin faces, the cramped single room, the missing furniture, the low ceiling, their backs hunched over, them huddling over dim candlelight to read their books… You were determined to get them out of the situation that you had caused them. It felt like it was your duty—a noble thing to do as their only child. And it would require you to be quite an accomplished individual.

Your alchemy skills weren’t the only thing going through rapid changes in your life. There was also Botswana Agate, though you weren’t too sure if these changes were for the better. Head Instructor Kim approved several new courses, if you could even call them that. No true knowledge was being dispensed in those mandatory classes—only military propaganda. A new academy uniform made its debut as well, looking suspiciously similar to the dark attire of the Darlaean soldier uniform: jet-black with silver and purple stitchings and a belt that cinched in the waist. It became difficult to differentiate between student and soldier, and now everyone looked like soot against the pristine, white walls of Botswana Agate. The changes were only slightly irritating, especially when you happened to run into Joonhee in one of those indistinguishable uniforms and you were unsure whether he dropped out of the rigorous training program for adolescents or if he became one of those annoying soldiers patrolling the halls of the academy.

“Hey! Y/N!” he said, a little too amiably for someone who was never too kind to you before. “Hey!” he said again, jogging over to catch up to you. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You wondered why he was greeting you so warmly. But upon closer look, you realized that he was, indeed, wearing the Darlaean soldier uniform and was probably looking to recruit you for the damn training program once again. You could come up with an excuse and run away or pretend you didn’t even hear him, but that felt a little mean. What if he genuinely wanted to catch up? Maybe he volunteered to be here because he missed Botswana and his friends. But you were never his friend, so why was he seeking you out? Nevertheless, you could never be so rude as to turn a person away.

“Hi, Joonhee!” you said with a smile. Upon closer look, Joonhee seemed a lot older now, although it had only been two years. He was taller, obviously, nearly towering over you in stature, and he had his hair slicked completely back, which accentuated his high cheekbones. He’d lost the chubbiness in his cheeks and had a heavier look in his eyes. But perhaps that was due to the dark circles. You wondered if he spent many sleepless nights in the army. You would imagine so, with all that death and treachery around you, how could you go to bed? “Um, how’s the program going?”

“Really well,” Joonhee answered, shoving his hands in his uniform pockets. “I volunteered to station here for a circa or two just to say hi to everyone before your commencement next year. I’ll be busier then, so might as well visit now. Plus, they don’t let us soldiers in at Aven Quartz just yet.”

“Oh, busier, how?” you asked.

“I did well on my last several showcases,” Joonhee explained. “So they’re going to step up my training. I’ll be fighting in the war by the time I’m 16 or 17.”

“Fighting in the war…” You couldn’t comprehend how casually he said it. In just a few years, Joonhee would be risking his life for Darlae, but you simply couldn’t understand why. He was a perfectly fine student with a bright future in academia ahead of him. Why did he choose to leave? It was a question that you would likely never know the answer to—you simply weren’t close enough to him to ask, and you didn’t see yourself growing closer to him anytime soon.

Joonhee nodded with a solemn look of duty on his face. “Fighting in the war,” he repeated. “Hey, listen. I’ve been trying to find Donghoon around here. You’re still close with him, right?”

Immediately, you tensed up. “Do you… need to tell him something?”

“Yeah. I was going to apologize,” Joonhee said. “I was only 12, and I was a fucking ass to him and a lot of other people. I know better now. Gotta represent my nation and everything.” He said this very proudly, jutting out his chest.

You’re pleasantly surprised. “Oh, that’s really nice of you, Joonhee. I can relay the message to him since he’s not here anymore. He dropped out. Er, I mean, he was sort of expelled.”

“By his own father?” Joonhee raised his eyebrows.

You nodded. “Yeah, it happened two years ago, a bit after you left, actually. A lot’s changed.”

Joonhee agreed. “A lot has…” There was a bit of an awkward silence before he decided to speak again. “Anyways, are you going to the showcase later this circa? I won’t be one of the judges, but I’ll be somewhere in the audience.”

Was this his smooth way of getting you to think about joining the army?

You shook your head. “They’re not mandatory anymore, and I’ve been busy with classes and my part-time jobs…” It was the truth, although it also sounded a bit like an excuse. But around three circas ago, the showcases were briefly made mandatory, until the fourth years refused to attend classes for two circas. Head Instructor Kim had no choice but to reverse the decision. If he hadn’t, you and the rest of the student body would have been forced to sit through nearly four to six hours of showcasing every circa, which meant watching every single Botswana Agate student put on a display of their skills in front of a row of Darlaean soldier judges, only to be given a numerical score. You would much rather get ahead in your classes or help Instructor Shin grade a few more papers in that time.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Joonhee said. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you or anything. But if you ever have time… You know, just check it out. They’re offering money to high-scorers now.”

“Money?” you asked, though a little too eagerly. Embarrassed, you tried to play off your interest in surprise. “I mean, that’s crazy. I didn’t ever think you guys would offer compensation.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty new,” Joonhee said. “It’s a good amount, too. About 50 jungs.”

Your jaw dropped open. “50 jungs???” That’s enough to fund half a year’s worth of tuition! If you scored well on two showcases, that would mean you would be able to attend your fourth year at Botswana without financial worry. If you scored well on three showcases, you would have a profit! The image of your parents hunched over in their dimly lit home, thin and weary, flashed in your mind. 50 jungs would not be enough to buy a new home, but it would be enough to take care of several hearty meals. Possibly a few bookshelves as well.

“Yeah,” Joonhee said. “You should think about it. You were always good at alchemy. I bet if you walked in and showed them some of your masking, they’d be sold.”

You weren’t sure how he found out about your masking practices, which meant somehow, the Darlaean soldiers were still watching you, but it didn’t really feel like it mattered in the grand scheme of things. You now had a shot at winning a generous sum of money, which would solve most, if not all of your problems. And besides, your participation in these showcases was not binding whatsoever. You were never going to enlist, no matter how many showcases you happened to attend.

“Thanks,” you told Joonhee. “I’ll… yeah. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

“Tuition at Aven Quartz is more expensive, you know,” Joonhee suddenly said, which made you raise your eyebrows. “And they haven’t allowed showcases there yet; possibly never will. Just something to think about.” Before you could even react to his words, Joonhee saluted you. “I’ll see you around, Y/N. Talk to Donghoon for me, will you?”

He marched away, leaving you slightly conflicted and confused. Just how much did the Darlaean army know about you? You thought you were off their radar, but it seemed that they were quite well-versed with your financial situation, which was strange because you never told anyone about it—not even Donghoon. You weren’t sure if you could trust them, but money was money and you needed it. Your parents would thank you, right? You were only doing it for them.

With the next showcase almost an entire circa away, you had more than enough time to prepare. And you did so in secret, hoping that none of your friends would find out—in fear that they would get the wrong idea. If the Darlaean soldiers knew you were capable of masking, they would naturally want you to showcase it. So you stayed overnight in the academy’s libraries, reading up on the extensive possibilities of masking, which led you down the rabbit hole of alchemy’s origins. Most of it was a reiteration of what you learned in Darlaean History in your first year, but your research enlightened you with some new information as well. The term alchemy used to refer to the transformation of chosen items into gold, which was the reason Darlae became the prosperous nation it was today. Before the war and the blockade, Darlae’s 2nd city was dedicated entirely to alchemists, and they would spend day and night turning things into gold, which would then be sent off to the 1st city to trade with vendors from other nations. Now, the 1st city was a base site for the army, and the 2nd city was where talented alchemists resided to create nasty charms for the war. As Darlae developed, alchemy became a broader type of magic, which encompassed all things transformation, and the true act of alchemy—turning things into gold—grew obsolete as gold became monetarily useless. But true alchemy was a difficult task regardless, as documented in every book you got your hands on, which made you want to achieve it more than ever.

You practiced relentlessly in the privacy of your dorm. When you weren’t studying or working your part-time jobs, you were exploring the works of true alchemy, which was even harder than you knew it would be. There were many failures, and many points where you wanted to give up and showcase something much simpler. But when you reached those low points, you mentally scolded yourself. How could you be so selfish, thinking about giving up and living in such a lavish dorm with your parents having sold their beds and now sleeping on the hardwood floor? You were doing this for them; you only wanted them to live comfortably, as they had done before your rash decision to attend Botswana Agate Academy to escape them. And perhaps this was the impact you were meant to make in the world—to care for your parents when they forgot to care for themselves.

It sounded rather selfless, yet deep down inside, you wondered if saving your parents from their financial burden would finally get them to look your way. If this showcase was going to be a pivotal moment in your complicated relationship with them, you were certainly not going to dawdle. You were going to perform with no regrets.

And so you did.

After nearly a circa’s worth of sleepless nights, of sacrificing a minor bit of study time to practice your showcase, you gave an unforgettable performance. At least, you assumed it was unforgettable. The theatron went completely silent the moment you turned that metal spoon into a golden one, and not a single person in the audience clapped. You stumbled off the stage, your ears ringing and your legs feeling wobbly. It had all happened much too quickly, the judges announcing your name, the shining lights in your face, perspiration dripping from your brow and making your hands all clammy. It was only after you were halfway down the hall from the theatron’s exit that you heard the roar of applause.

It made you nearly trip over the air.

You had done it.

After so many failed repetitions, you had managed true alchemy! Your ears were still ringing, and the world felt as if it was spinning. Your accomplishment didn’t feel believable. Even up on that stage, you remembered, though it was hazy, that you would’ve been simply content with turning that silver spoon into bronze and hope those in the audience had bad eyesight.

You had to tell Instructor Shin! She was always the first person you sought when you reached a new alchemy milestone. But… that didn’t feel too right today. If you told her about your success, she would question why you had been dabbling in true alchemy in the first place (since it was such an obscure practice), and unable to lie, you would tell her you participated in one of the showcases. You could imagine the disappointed look on her face. She would lose her trust in you! Another one of her students lost to the Darlaean army! And oh, if she found out you were convinced to participate because Joonhee recommended it… You might as well never return to your assistant job.

But despite your worries, you still somehow ended up in Instructor Shin’s office, where she offered you a nice glass of iced water mixed with fresh mint leaves.

“A hot day today, isn’t it?” she said.

She must’ve been referring to your hot and sweaty face.

“Y-Yes,” you agreed, though she didn’t know that you had to imagine you were in a hot, pressurized inferno to transform the metal into gold. That, and the fact that you were nervous to talk to her, in fear that she would find out what you had done.

“I’m glad I ran into you in the hallway, Y/N,” Instructor Shin said, sipping on her own chilled glass of water while sitting at the edge of her marble desk. Your heart began to beat faster in your chest. Was she going to ask why she spotted you coming from the direction of the theatron, where the notorious showcases were held? You began to come up with all sorts of excuses in your head, though you knew that your execution would be horrible and you might as well have told the truth from the beginning. But before the worst of your thoughts could consume you, Instructor Shin continued. “I wanted to tell you”—you held your breath—“that I recommend that you apply to Aven Quartz Academy now, one year earlier than normal.” The glass in your hands nearly slipped. “I’ve discussed with your past and current instructors, and we have come to the consensus that Botswana does not have much to offer you anymore, Y/N. I—we— would rather that you move further along in your academic journey than stay here in classes filled with material that is review. I am more than willing to write your recommendation letter.”

Of course you’d love to apply early! That was all you ever wanted—to follow the natural scholar’s pace and study at Aven Quartz. You didn’t need to think much harder. “Oh, thank you!” you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement. “Instructor Shin, I—”

Tuition at Aven Quartz is more expensive, you know.

You froze momentarily.

And they haven’t allowed showcases there yet; possibly never will.

Oh no.

Just something to think about.

Thanks to Joonhee, it was something to think about, indeed.

If you applied to Aven and were possibly accepted, that would mean your parents would have to pay the impossible tuition, more than double what they currently paid for Botswana. Your parents would have to sell the shack and live on the streets of the 11th city, foraging or begging for food! And there were only two more circas left until the end of your third year, which meant that even assuming you excelled in the rest of the showcases, you would still barely be able to afford half a year’s worth of schooling at Aven Quartz.

If what Joonhee told you was true, and Aven would never have army showcases, you would never be able to help your parents pay for your tuition. Even if you stayed one extra year at Botswana, forgoing Instructor Shin’s offer to apply to Aven early, you still wouldn’t save enough money to comfortably pay for schooling at the sister academy.

“You’re in doubt,” Instructor Shin said, her red lips pressing into a thin line.

You hung your head low. “I… I’m just…” You didn’t know how appropriate it was for you to tell Instructor Shin about your financial situation, especially if she wouldn’t be able to change anything about it.

“Talk to me,” Instructor Shin said. “There must be a reason for your hesitation.”

Of course there was a reason. But you had never been one to divulge others of your private matters.

“Y/N,” Instructor Shin tried again. “I cannot help if you do not tell me what is wrong.”

She did make a fair point. But how could she possibly help? This was between you and your parents! Yet Instructor Shin had helped you along at the academy for nearly three years now. She was practically your mother in Botswana. And what if she could help? What if you were underestimating what she could do?

“My family…” you began, your voice coming out much smaller than expected. You sipped your water, clearing your throat afterward. “My family is tight with money,” you told Instructor Shin. “My parents have been working hard just to pay my tuition here in Botswana, and I… Even I’ve been trying to work odd jobs to help. Aven Quartz is so much more expensive, and Instructor Shin, I… I don’t know what to do.”

For the second time in nearly three years of knowing Instructor Shin, her stoic barriers melted away, and she looked genuinely sorry. “I understand,” she said sympathetically. “Thank you for sharing, Y/N. Though I believe no amount of words and wisdom could convince Head Instructor Kim to lower the tuition at Botswana, I do believe it is a possibility at Aven Quartz. I am in good relations with the head instructor there, so I may pull some strings.” She paused, seemingly thinking of the right thing to say. “It would certainly be a pity for our nation to lose another talented scholar. I’ll do what I can. Meanwhile…” Instructor Shin trailed off, and you could sense that she was heavily debating on whether to say something. Finally, she sighed, tapping her fingers against her desk in deep thought. “But tell me, what do you want to do with your future, Y/N?”

You momentarily panicked. You hadn’t expected her to ask such a broad question! It felt like some sort of test—as if your answer would dictate how much effort she would put into helping you. But then another, possibly worse thought, occurred to you.

What if she knew? What if she knew that you were coming back from a showcase? What if she thought you were considering the army? Was that why she suddenly asked you to apply early to Aven Quartz? Was that why she was willing to go as far as to contact Aven’s Head Instructor to reduce the cost of your tuition? Was that why she was asking what you would like to do with your future?

When you hesitantly looked up at Instructor Shin, her sharp eyes pierced right into yours, and in them, you saw inexplicable omnipotence—as if somehow, she held all the knowledge in the world. For a second, it almost felt as if she was a divinist. But of course she would find out what you’ve done. Her words rang in your ears: it would certainly be a pity for our nation to lose another talented scholar—and her unspoken words as well—to the Darlaean Army. How could you ever think you could hide it from her?

And your future? Nearly three years ago, hell, even as a young child, you had it all figured out. Just like those protagonists in your novels, you were going to make a change, leave a mark somewhere, anywhere. You were supposed to extinguish the flames once the world was doused in them. Only now, that desire to make a change, that desire to be a hero, has manifested in your desire to change your parents’ living situation.

“It’s all right if you do not know,” Instructor Shin said in your silence. “Not many of your age are sure of their futures.”

“But I think I do know,” you said, though it came out as more of a whisper. “I want to make a change.” You were painfully aware of how naïve that sounded, but it was the truth. This was what has motivated you for as long as you can remember.

If Instructor Shin found your future aspiration to be callow, she did not show it. Instead, she nodded. “I will support any direction you decide to take,” she told you. “And I trust that you will make good choices.”

Her words echoed in your head even after you left her office, and they followed you as you slipped under your plush covers in your dorm.

I trust that you will make good choices.

But what if every choice felt like a bad one?

A single day after your showcase, there was a knock on your dorm door. You weren’t exactly expecting anyone, so it was an interesting surprise to see two students—no, two Darlaean soldiers—standing before you.

“Hello,” you said, unsure of what to expect.

They saluted in response, which puzzled you even more.

“Kwang Y/N,” the shorter one said while saluting, “you received a near-perfect score at your showcase the other day.”

Your eyes widened. In your own daze at accomplishing what you believed was nearly impossible, you had completely forgotten to stay to hear your score! Were they angry at you for leaving without dismissal? Did they come to scold you and tell you that your showcase was now invalid? “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly,” you said, but it came out a little desperate. “I-I was nervous and I—”

“No need to apologize,” the taller soldier said, shaking his head. “We would like to let you know that the judges believed your performance was exceptional. And once again, the Darlaean Army would like to extend you an invitation to join our rigorous training program for adolescents.”

Oh.

They weren’t angry at all.

They only wanted to recruit you… Again.

Your mind began drowning in your options.

Either choice felt like a bad one: applying early to Aven Quartz and putting your parents in deeper debt (despite a reduced tuition) versus staying in Botswana to make more profit from the showcases and still putting your parents in debt. Yet, joining the training program was possibly the worst choice out of them all. How could you make the change you wanted to make when you were dead? What could you possibly get—what would anyone possibly get—out of you being in the army? Nobody in your life—except perhaps Joonhee—would approve. The idea itself was so preposterous that you couldn’t even consider it an option!

You’ve rejected the offer before. You could surely do it again, and this time, it would be easier as there would be no crowd of curious peers staring at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a shake of your head. It felt good to stand your ground. “Unfortunately, I’m not interested.”

“But—” the taller soldier began, yet he stopped himself. “Very well, then,” he said with a sigh. You were partly surprised at how easily he relented. “But our army has never seen a showcase like yours before. Just wanted to let you know.”

The two soldiers left you in peace, which was what you wanted since you opened your door and saw them. You thought that was a done deal, and you could go on your merry way to figuring out what the hell you were going to do with the two options you had left. But it turned out that you weren’t completely off the Darlaean Army’s radar. Exactly 24 hours after your encounter with the soldiers, there was that same knock on your door.

Were they back to convince you to join? Were they going to threaten to not give you the money from your showcase?

You were slightly nervous but a little irritated too. Why couldn’t they respect your decision? It wasn’t like you—a single 14-year-old—could really make a difference in the entire Darlaean army, so why were they being so persistent? Was it due to ego? Did they believe that no one could possibly resist an invitation to fight for Darlae?

The thought increased your irritation, and you swung your door wide open, ready to somewhat politely give these damn soldiers a piece of your mind. But your plans dissipated when you made eye contact with a serious-looking man outside your door. He was older than any soldier you’ve seen so far and was tall and slender, with a high nose, downturned lips and glinting eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. His army uniform was uniquely adorned with silver shoulder epaulets, and a beautiful round opal decorated his belt buckle. The man exuded a quiet confidence, and that, coupled with the fact that his uniform looked high-ranking, suddenly made your brain turn to mush.

“Hello,” he said, his voice much deeper than what you expected.

You stared.

Then, realizing you were being rude, you squeaked a delayed, “H-Hello.”

“I am Lieutenant General Son,” the man introduced himself. “Pleased to meet you, Y/N.”

You weren’t very familiar with army rankings, but his title contained the word General, which was enough to make you realize you were face-to-face with a very powerful individual. Your palms began to accumulate sweat, and you nervously fiddled with your trinket behind your ear. “N-Nice to meet you too. Sir,” you added in haste. Your eyes glanced behind the man and to the hallway, hoping that none of your peers happened to walk past in fear of rumors spreading that you were beginning to consider joining the Darlaean Army. You weren’t sure if you should invite the man into your dorm; that felt a little strange, for he was a complete stranger. It was also exceedingly peculiar that the Lieutenant General of the Darlaean Army personally sought you out. You decided to keep the conversation where it started, the door frame creating a border between you and the army official.

“I was told you have now twice refused to be a part of our training program for adolescents,” the Lieutenant General said. “Why is that?”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, I-I… Sir, I…” How could you respectfully tell him that you want nothing to do with the army?

“Your parents are divinist scholars as I understand,” the Lieutenant General continued, saving you from responding to his own question. “I suspect you’ve been conditioned to think quite poorly of the army.”

You stuttered, unsure whether to accept or deny his statement.

“And that is fine,” the Lieutenant General said. “I do not care what the scholars think of us. A nation cannot develop properly amidst a war. I’m sure you already know. Darlae may be rich in resources, but our scholars’ research will never see the light of day until the blockade is over and our 1st city is restored.” His eyes pierced into yours. “If you choose the army, Darlae will thrive from your contributions and your accomplishments will be tangible.”

Of course he came here to sell the army to you. That much was expected. What was unexpected, however, was the fact that he brought up quite a good point. It was true that scholars’ research was not the nation’s priority. Your work—if you did become an alchemist scholar—would be buried amongst the hundreds of other research manuscripts until the war was over. But then again, there also wasn’t much longevity in becoming a soldier, and you wanted accomplishments that would last. If you died on the battlefield, the only contribution you’d make would be becoming fertilizer for the soil. It was an overwhelmingly dark thought—that Donghoon would often joke about—but there was truth in it. You’d rather die knowing your work could be uncovered someday, instead of being a casualty count in a textbook decades later.

The Lieutenant General nodded in your silence. “I will save my compliments and further persuasion. I’m sure you’ve heard enough. Allow yourself time to ponder. I want an answer in three days.”

With that, he handed you a crisp envelope from inside his uniform jacket, and before you could ask what it was, he turned and walked away. You stared at the back of his head, processing the encounter in your mind. It didn’t seem like he was trying too hard to convince you to join the army—if that was his plan. He had left relatively quickly too. But perhaps he was busy. If he had given you the opportunity, you would’ve refused him on the spot. Now you had three days to come up with a kind way to reject the offer.

Sighing, you closed the door, sliding up against it and staring at the thin envelope in your hands. It was shut with a dark violet wax seal with the royal emblem stamped on it. It was no secret that the army was heavily funded by the royal family, but you never thought they’d make it so obvious. Carefully, you tore the seal open, half-expecting to see the money you won from the showcase. But instead, you found a single sheet of creamy paper and on it were a few words handwritten in black ink. You frowned. What had to be written that could not be said out loud?

Y/N,

A payment of five thousand jungs and ownership of a new home in the 12th city will be contingent upon your agreement to continue with the program. Consider it wisely.

Lieutenant General.

Your jaw dropped open.

Five thousand jungs was more than enough to buy a new home from your parents. But they were offering a new home for you regardless! And in the 12th city! This was everything your parents had ever wanted. One could only be invited to live in the 12th city, and this was the invitation! Your parents could officially become royal divinists. Their lifelong dream would come true!

But… at what expense? This was obviously a bribe, which you were unaware that the Darlaean Army was capable of doing, for you’ve never heard of a story like this. Perhaps they were better at hiding things than you thought. Still, you didn’t understand. You’ve rejected them twice before. Why would they come back to you a third time? Was your showcase truly that remarkable? You would be but one single soldier! They probably sacrificed hundreds of soldiers per week, so why did it matter that you joined their training program? Wouldn’t you simply be a casualty to them sooner or later? A number reported to the higher-ups?

Accepting the offer would mean doing away with all of your parents’ problems. It would also mean creating new problems for yourself. You would have to give up becoming an alchemist scholar. You’d have to give up Aven Quartz. Hell, you could kiss your friends goodbye; no sane Botswana student would accept the fact that you’d seriously consider joining the army. And though Instructor Shin told you that she would trust any decision you were to make, she would still be disappointed.

You were in desperate need of brutal wisdom, to help you snap out of delusion—if you were in it—and there was only one person who you knew you could count on.

“Y/N!” Donghoon greeted you as soon as you stepped into his tea shop. He rolled down his sleeves and jogged toward you with a grin on his face. “Fancy seeing you here! It’s been an entire circa!”

He was right. The last time you saw Donghoon, it had been to tell him Joonhee’s message, and he had simply shrugged it off, saying he never cared too much about Joonhee anyway.

“Hey!” you smiled, though it was a little hard to with so much on your mind. “Is this a good time?”

“Did something happen?” Donghoon asked, raising his eyebrows. He knew you too well.

“Um… kind of,” you replied.

“Let’s hear it, then,” Donghoon said. He pulled up an extra wooden stool to the coffee table and sat down, gesturing you to do the same across from him. So you did, unsure of how you should start your story at all. “Whatever it is, it’s giving you frown lines,” Donghoon snorted. “Spit it out. You know I won’t judge.”

Somehow, you felt like he would.

“It’s about the army,” you said.

Donghoon sighed. “Those bastards are still harassing you? Here, I’ll help you come up with effective ways to make them regret ever messing with y—”

“N-No,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s… Well, you know about the training program, right? The one they wanted me to join back since you were still in school.”

“Yeah…” Donghoon said, cocking his head. You could tell he was unsure where you were going with this. It made you want to tread lighter than before.

“Um… I…”

“You’re not actually thinking of doing it, are you?” Donghoon accused. His tone was sharp, and you were immediately struggling to defend yourself.

“N-No! I’m… But I’m just… I don’t know, I feel like I should consider the option at least.”

“Why?!”

You struggled to remain calm. “They’re offering me a lot of money. And a home in the 12th city.”

“All for you?” Donghoon frowned. “They told you that they’ll give you all that if you join?”

You nodded, pulling out the letter for proof.

Donghoon glanced at the words on the cream paper and shook his head. “You can’t do it, Y/N. You can’t become one of those bastards. Your life will be filled with blood and gore and death! Do you really want someone else’s guts on your hands?”

Even the thought made you want to hurl. “Of course I don’t! But…”

“This can’t possibly be about your parents, Y/N. They’re shit people!”

“They’re not!” You didn’t mean to yell, but it hurt to think that someone who had such a horrible father still believed your parents were just as bad. “They’re just busy!”

“That excuse works from time to time. Not every year since you were born!” Donghoon exclaimed. “They’re trying to bribe you, Y/N. Don’t you get it? You’re probably the most talented scholar they’ve ever seen. Why else would the fucking Lieutenant General come to see you himself? But you can’t bargain with your own life to make your parents happy! Let’s face it, Y/N, what have they done to deserve it?”

Anger flashed through you. “They’ve been living in a shack for two years to pay for my tuition!” You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “I’m sorry for yelling, but they care more than they let on, Donghoon.”

“So you’re just going to waste your talents in the army so you can repay your parents?”

“I’ll never be able to repay them. I was off frolicking in the fancy halls of Botswana while they were starving and sleeping on hardwood floors, Donghoon.”

“I don’t get it.” He shook his head. “You could’ve asked me for help. I can still give you the money you need.”

“You know I hate being a burden.”

He sighed. “I know… But don’t do it. You’ll figure out a way. Do you want to work part-time at my tea shop? The pay’ll be amazing.”

“Donghoon, I just need advice. Is it really such a bad idea? Maybe… I don’t know, maybe I’ll be able to make an actual change if I’m in the army. Even if I did become an alchemist scholar one day, my work would probably be buried because of the war.” You didn’t know why you were starting to defend the idea of joining the army. It felt wrong, especially to do in front of Donghoon.

“Of course it’s a bad idea,” he said as expected. “It’s a fucking horrible idea, that’s what it is. They’re going to turn you into a killing machine. They’re going to make sure violence is ingrained in your body. You won’t ever be the same again. They’ll have you become their puppet! You’ll fall for their propaganda! They’ll have you thinking that the Solarians are the scum of the earth!”

“But is that true?” you asked.

“Why the hell are you asking if it’s true, Y/N?” Donghoon said, exasperated. “How can you question common sense? Have you actually fallen for their propaganda already? How long have you been considering joining their training program?”

It hurt that he was accusing you of these things, and the pain caused you to react before you could think. “You don’t understand how it feels to not have money! You don’t understand how humiliating it is to even think about asking others for help. You don’t even understand the stress I’ve gone through just to keep myself in school. You wouldn’t get it at all because you’re fucking rich and you dropped out!” As soon as those words left your mouth, you regretted it. “Donghoon, wait. I didn’t mean—”

“Go fucking join the army, then.”

“W-What?”

“If money is more important to you, then go throw away your dignity. I don’t care. Go be like Joonhee and waste your talent.”

“Donghoon…”

“Maybe you’ll become the General of the fucking Army one day.”

“It’s not money that’s more important… This is about my parents.”

“You don’t owe them anything.”

“How can I not owe them anything?” you said. “Look, Donghoon, I’m not saying I’m going to join the army. I just… It’s a lot of money. That plus the new home in the 12th city… And I’ll be learning alchemy during that training program, but I’m being paid to do it! You have to understand that logically, all signs point to me at least contemplating the offer.”

Donghoon shook his head. “It already sounds like you know what you want to decide.”

“No, I—”

He abruptly stood up, cutting you off. “I would never even consider accepting an offer like this. But maybe it’s meant to be. You’ve always liked carrying your trinket around.” He glanced at the baby blue feather pinned to your hair. “If you’re going to be directly involved in the perpetual circle of violence between the two nations, then we should go our separate ways.”

Your heart sank. “Donghoon…”

“I don’t serve soldiers in my tea shop,” he said. “You can leave.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I never said I was going to do it…”

He gave you a look that questioned your words.

You shakily stood up, lingering at the coffee table, unsure if you should really leave. If you went now, you would most likely never come back again. Donghoon has never tolerated anything involving the war; as soon as you even so much considered the idea, he’d already pulled away. But Donghoon seemed content with breaking up your friendship as he had already rolled up his sleeves and had begun working behind the counter again. It was as if the two of you hadn’t had a conversation at all.

Confused and hurt, you slowly stepped out of the tea shop, vision a little blurry from your tears. The more you thought about your lost relationship with Donghoon, the faster you began to walk, hoping to leave the sadness behind you. Before you knew it, you were running, though you could barely see ahead of you. Your quill trinket threatened to fall out of your hair, so you ripped it out and held it in your hands, not caring in the slightest that you were wrinkling the feather.

A sob left your mouth as you sprinted across Botswana’s empty corridors. Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled at him. Maybe you should’ve thought before reacting. Maybe you should go back and apologize. But your legs refused to stop, and you continued to run—though you didn’t know where—until you ran into somebody, nearly losing your grip on your trinket. If they hadn’t grabbed your arm with impressive reflexes, you would’ve tumbled back. When you looked up, hastily wiping your tears away with your uniform sleeve, you saw Joonhee.

He frowned, letting your arm go once you regained your balance. You were too out of breath to apologize. “Are you okay?” he asked.

All you could do was shake your head.

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he offered you some water and a handkerchief, which you gladly accepted. By the time you finally calmed down, you and he were sitting at the edge of Botswana Agate’s marble fountain—the same one that was trashed in protest when Head Instructor Kim announced the curriculum changes (that were really just army propaganda). Your trinket, though a little wrinkled and now its original shade of ugly gray, was safely pinned back behind your ear again. Joonhee sat silently, waiting for you to speak, though he most likely had hundreds of other tasks to attend to. Starting to feel a little guilty that he was wasting his time in silence with you, you blurted out a question that happened to cross your mind at the moment.

“Why do you want to fight in the war?”

Joonhee turned to you, eyebrows raised. “That’s a loaded question. Have you got the time?”

You nodded. “Three days, in fact.”

He looked confused, but he didn’t question it. “I mean, I hate the Solarians, so naturally, I’d want to… you know, do away with them, I guess. But it’s a lot more than that, too. As a soldier-in-training, I get to represent Darlae. I get to fight for our beliefs and our pride, and I would die trying. You know, besides the 10th and 11th cities, people are actually proud to be Darlaeans. I think it’s because they don’t have their damn noses stuck in books all the time. They live in reality. They right the wrongs and take action when needed. That’s how I see it. I’d rather be out there fighting for my nation than fester in research that’ll be forgotten about when I’m dead.”

Death… You felt too young to be contemplating it. Sometimes it didn’t even feel real that you could simply cease to exist. The thought was terrifying, and you didn’t know how Joonhee was so content with it.

“But won’t you be forgotten about if you die on the battlefield?”

Joonhee thought for a moment. “Have you ever read The Wisdom Tree?”

Though you were confused why he offered such a topic change, you nodded. “I think I read it once when I was young, but it was a little too dark for me.”

“Well, I grew up with that story,” Joonhee explained. “The main character sacrifices his life for someone he loves, yet he is never forgotten. His lover makes sure his name is never lost in history. Plants a sentient tree in his honor, and the townspeople forever seek advice from that tree when faced with difficult decisions. Hence, the title. But yeah. I trust my comrades to carry on my legacy if I die, and they trust me to do the same. You can die and still be a hero,” he said. “I’m willing to put my life on the line for a chance at a warless Darlae. Shouldn’t that be our priority? Ending the war?

“You know, when the blockade’s over, I want to explore the world. See what else is out there. Think of all of the books of different cultures and languages that I would find. I could go back to learning. Real learning. Not being cooped up and being fed outdated information because the nation doesn’t have enough funding for the academies. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll even publish a book of my own.” He turned to you, an amused look on his face. “Shocked?”

Of course you were shocked. You always assumed he volunteered for the sake of fighting, though you realized now it had been a horrible misconception. It was hard to believe that Joonhee’s the same age as you (a few circas older, though) when in fact he was starting to sound like the damn Wisdom Tree himself. You wondered if he gained this wisdom in the army.

You can die and still be a hero.

Why did you never consider this? What was this odd comfort that washed over you?

Has the scholar community been wrong all along? Maybe soldiers didn’t crave violence. Maybe they craved to be heroes. And what was so wrong with that? Wasn’t that who you wanted to be?

“People die out there,” Joonhee said. “We all know that. But it’s never a waste. No one dies without purpose. Every soldier who falls on the battlefield brings us one step closer to winning the war.”

“You’re not afraid?” you asked.

“Afraid of dying?” Joonhee shrugged. “Not really. But maybe my sentiments will change when I go to battle in a few years. I’m pretty stubborn, though. I think I’ll survive.” He turned to you with no particular expression on his face. “You’ve got three days, huh?” he said. “I’d say let everything sink in. You’re smart. You’ll make the right decision in the end.”

What do you want to do with your future?

Come to think of it, you’ve never really had a clear dream. It was always about being a good person—someone undeniably altruistic and kind, who helped anyone in need, like the heroes you grew up with. For years you believed that to be a hero, you were required to be present for whatever big change you ignited. To be a hero, you believed that you were guaranteed to survive.

But that didn’t have to be the case.

You can die and still be a hero.

Of course death was still an opaque subject, but this realization gave you another option. If you were really going to make a difference in the world, if you were really to become some sort of hero, you were going to have to make sacrifices: first for your parents, then for the future people of Darlae—for the scholars who dreamed of a real education, for those who wanted to explore the world, for those who wanted a peaceful kingdom. If those sacrifices led to your demise… Well, it didn’t seem like the end of the world anymore. I’m willing to put my life on the line for a chance at a warless Darlae.

What brave words. You wished you could say the same thing with even half of Joonhee’s confidence. The truth was, you were still terrified. The war always felt like it was an untouchable force, something that no matter what you did, would never go away. But things were different now. You could make a difference. Every soldier who falls on the battlefield brings us one step closer to winning the war. Those words stirred something inside of you.

Perhaps it was a sense of responsibility, a sense of duty. A real hero would die trying to fight for what would help their loved ones. A real hero wouldn’t care if their fight ended in death, as long as something was changed. A real hero would be selfless and brave and kind.

Gone was your prejudice against those who volunteered for the army. They were human too, not just violent people who joined for a taste of blood. They were aspiring heroes. Just like you. They wanted to right the wrongs, even if they ended up dead because they trusted their comrades to carry on their lives. It was so valiant, such a grand gesture that it made your heart beat faster thinking about it.

And the more you thought, the clearer your future became.

It was obvious the choice you had to make.

So when the Lieutenant General came knocking on your door three days later, you were prepared. There was not a waver in your voice, not a single doubt when you uttered the words:

“Yes, sir. I accept.”

You didn’t know what to expect as a reaction, but you should’ve known it wouldn’t be very reactive. The Lieutenant General only nodded, his expression unreadable. “Welcome to the Darlaean Army, cadet.” His dark eyes glinted. “You will begin in one week.”

In a singular week?

That didn’t leave much time.

You only hoped your parents wouldn’t be too angry.

“I believe we’ll be reacquainted on the training grounds,” the Lieutenant General said. “When that time comes, cadet, I expect you to salute when you see me.”

You nodded, standing up straight and half-ready to salute him now. “Yes, sir!”

You nervously entered your single-room home in the 11th city. Your parents were sitting in the dark, hunched over their books again, right where you had left them circas ago. You felt a little sick. If they reacted the way Donghoon did, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Mother? Ma?”

Your parents turned around, their hollow faces half-obscured by the darkness of the room. Ma was the first to speak. “Welcome back, sweetheart!”

“Did we miss the end of the school year?” Mother asked, setting down her book and blinking heavily as if the light that streamed in when you opened the door blinded her.

“No, I came back on my own accord,” you said. “Actually, I, um…” Already, things weren’t going the way you imagined. You struggled to find the right words. “There was a showcase at Botswana several days ago,” you began carefully.

“Showcases are military propaganda, Y/N,” Mother said, standing up with wobbly legs. Her back never stood straight and she stared at you behind full eyes. “I hope you didn’t participate.”

You gulped. “T-They were offering 50 jungs for the best performance.”

That seemed to put Ma out of her weary trance. “They were? Oh, honey, did you do it?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice, and you hung onto it, in hopes that they would forgive you for making a choice without their input.

“Of course, Ma. I, well, they liked my performance so much that they um, once again offered me a spot in their training program for adolescents.” The information spills out of you quickly, before your parents can even react: “They’ll be paying us five thousand jungs and have already invited us to live in the 12th city.”

“Five thousand?!—”

“Live in the 12th city?!”

Mother shakes her head. “Y/N, why would they offer you so much?”

Even you were unsure of the exact reason.

There was a bit of silence. It seemed like neither of your parents knew what to say.

Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, Mother spoke. “Is this… Is this what you want, Y/N?”

“Yes, honey, do you really want to become a soldier one day?” Ma chimed in.

They didn’t seem angry or upset, just puzzled.

“I do,” you said. “I really do.”

“Well…?” Ma looked over at Mother, who had harsh frown lines all over her forehead.

“You’ve already accepted, haven’t you?” Mother asked.

You began to play with your trinket in your hair. “I-I did… Are you mad?”

“No,” Mother said. “Only surprised.”

“You’d finally be appointed as royal divinists,” you told your parents, worried that they were still wary of your decision. “And we’d get to move out of this home and into a much nicer one in the 12th!”

“Yes…” Ma said.

Your parents looked at each other, and maybe it was because you weren’t very close to them, but you couldn’t discern what they were wordlessly saying. You weren’t a divinist, after all.

If they suspected that you only accepted the offer for their sake, they didn’t make it obvious. They never even asked what you performed for your showcase. Didn’t even ask why you had such a sudden change of heart. Instead, they rather quickly packed up the little belongings that they had and moved one city over to the castle grounds—as if they couldn’t wait to get out of the 11th city. Soon after, your parents became appointed as royal divinists, their lifelong dream coming true, and you became a young soldier-in-training, your dream of attending Aven Quartz long forgotten.

Everybody at Botswana was surprised when you left. Some even questioned the sanity of your parents, for what kind of scholars would selfishly allow their only child to die in the war so that they could work for the royal family? What kind of pathetic parents would use their children to achieve their dreams?

But your parents never had to hear these talks, and neither did you after a while. Soon, you and your parents settled into your new, magnificent home in the 12th city. The ceiling was unreachable, mahogany bookshelves towering over the other delicately-crafted furniture. Even the emerald green carpet was back, though it wasn’t the same one you grew up with. But the countless windows, reading nooks and candles brought you nostalgia, and you cherished the homely feeling along with your parents, who gained back the weight that they lost and looked much happier than before.

By the time you left for the castle grounds, it felt as if you’d lived in the 12th city all of your life—as if you left behind all of the bitter feelings towards the army in the 11th, where the scholars sat, forever reading their books and doing nothing about anything.

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⨰ a/n: behold the LONGEST lod chapter yet!! it took me over three months to write and edit :') hopefully you enjoyed this quick look at her early life! don't worry, jungkook will show up soon

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