Hiraeth | Part I

Hiraeth | Part I

Jungkook x reader

Hiraeth: A longing for a home you can’t return to, or that never was.

Summary: It was confusing, the whole ordeal was. But no matter how many times you told yourself to go back, he was always there, taunting you to stay. Royalty AU

Genre: Smut, angst, minor fluff, some violence

Warnings: This is a multi part series that includes sexual themes and mature content.

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“How much for admission?”

“25 today, ma’am.”

She smiled, pulling out a 20 and a 5 from her wallet before handing it to the ticket clerk. He took them gently, replacing them with a wide blue and gold ticket for the museum. She thanked him before gathering her things and turning to walk inside.

She had always admired museums, though she never had any time to actually go. She had been quite a few times as a child with her parents, but now that she was older, and miles away from her family, work eventually caught up with her, and museums just seemed out of reach.

Regardless of that fact, art was something she could find solace in; she was a writer herself. She understood the lengths of time and energy one had to put into a piece of work, and that gave her a great sense of comfort as she walked inside.

Despite it being a Saturday morning, the building was fairly empty, with the exception of a few families here and there checking the pre-historic exhibits. She had her eyes set on the literature displays, which she desperately wanted to write about since last year when that section of the museum opened.

Clutching her notebook and pen close against her chest, she proceeded to follow the direction of the pamphlets map, trying to weave her way around the statues and memorials of artists.

She had been tasked with the assignment of writing about the new piece of writing found in the museums archives. Something about a hefty donor who had initially donated the piece after he discovered it on a backpacking through Europe trip with his friends. The rest of the story somewhat varies from source to source, and little to none is actually known about the piece of writing.

Finally stepping into the large vicinity of the literature department, she found herself smiling, allowing her eyes to trail over the scrolls dating back from England in the 15th and 16th century, and over some of the more modern pieces. A book perched on a stand under a glass casing caught her eye and she mindlessly gravitated towards it.

“Careful with that.”

She gasped, taking a step back and clenching her fist around her book-bag. Though the sight of the middle aged man standing before her caused her to let out a long sigh, wincing as she awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry, you really scared me there.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, “My apologies, you were just looking too close. Please make sure you’re outside the red tape.”

Red tape?

And then she looked down.

Oh, red tape.

Her feet took two steps back, until they were finally behind the displays limit.

“Sorry,” she smiled shyly.

“Ah it’s alright, it’s just that this one’s fairly new. Last week’s shipment.”

She let her eyes hover over the book again. It was closed, sadly, the contents of whatever was inside maybe never to be exposed. The cover was a red mahogany, which splayed the three letters of J.G.Q.

It was strange to say the least, an author she had never once heard of. Granted, she wasn’t a literature fanatic, and she certainly didn’t enjoy boasting about her supposed knowledge on books and authors but, she had at least prided herself on her remembrance of important novels and their creators.

This one had to have some importance if it was here.

“Is that the author?”

He nodded, taking a closer look at the book, “Not really sure what it’s about, just know that it’s pretty expensive.”

“How much was the bidding?”

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue, “Somewhere around the 70 million mark.”

“What? Yea, I’d say that’s pretty expensive,” she nearly choked. If she could recall, that was nearly as much as Van Gogh’s Starry Night, and that was a painting.

“Yea, we’ve had other museums try to claim it but the owner really wanted it displayed here,” he shrugged, leaning on the disinterested side.

She clasped her hands together in front of her jacket, smiling kindly at him, before thanking him for the information. He quickly got the hint and waved a goodbye, before leaving her alone with the book.

This was it, this was the one, the one she was purposed to write about. A gleaming shimmer of anticipation shone through her eyes as she quickly pulled out her notebook to write.

—

“Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am?”

Her body shook unexpectedly at the source of the quiet but urging voice. Locking eyes with the security guard, she began apologizing profusely, shaking her head at the sight that he had unfortunately caught her in.

She had managed to fall asleep in the middle of writing, pen still locked in hand, and body tiredly slumped against one of the stone benches near the book casing. It was covered now, blocking her view from the piece that lied underneath.

“Oh, it’s alright ma’am,” the guard started, his lips turning to the sides to expose his teeth, “It’s quite late though; the museums about to close soon.”

She hymned an okay, swallowing to coat the inside of her dry throat so she could properly speak to him.

“I’ll leave right now. Again, I’m very sorry,” she found purchase onto her bag, holding it up as some figurative shield against his scrutiny. He seemed kind enough however, and merely held up a hand to ease down her nerves.

“No need to apologize. We’ve had plenty of people doze off here. Art can get quite boring.”

Her brows knitted together, yet before she had any time to open her mouth to rebuff his statement that art was simply not boring, he had already sauntered off down the hallway, gesturing to the exit door across the room.

She followed his ushering, leaving quick without another word. How could someone work at a place full of art and mosaics and still have the audacity to call it boring. It rubbed her the wrong way, but she shrugged it off without a second’s remorse. Some people were just like that.

The notes she had taken hadn’t gotten too far either, and she bit her lip at the thought of returning again sometime next week, presumably after the guard could forget her face. She didn’t want the embarrassment of an encounter again.

Eventually, digging through her bag, her fingers found her car keys, and she sluggishly drew them out, making way to the parking lot on the other side of the building. But suddenly, the night’s gentle hush was crudely interrupted when a harsh scraping echoed from her right.

Better judgement called out to her, pleading for her to just continue onwards to her car but goddammit, she was too stubborn. Hugging her keys at the base of her chest, she neared the side of the museum, peering past one of the concrete pillars and into the alley where the trash bins were placed.

There, in the short distance of where her eyes were able to scan, were two darkly dressed men, hauling an oversized trash bag over their shoulders. They must’ve been taking out the trash.

Releasing a long breath of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in, she finally tore her eyes away from them, turning on her heel to get to ready to leave before her keys slipped past her fingers. With a clichéd clank, they hit the ground, captivating the attention of the two men.

Shit.

“Hey! You there!”

Shit shit shit.

Her jaw hung open, tongue continuously flicking over her teeth to find any words to say but they never seemed to come out. One of the men had already bolted in her direction, and while her heart sped up dangerously to breaking point, she couldn’t find the fight or flight response to move anything. They had both failed her and instead, she just froze.

“What did you see?” One of them harshly whispered, whipping his head back and forth to survey the area. She could only muster a small shake of her head. Nothing, I saw nothing.

“Relax man, you obviously scared her,” another gruff voice boomed from behind him. They both looked older, probably mid-thirties, and both had the same tired look over their faces.

“She saw us hauling around the bag!” He hissed at the other, clutching at her arm to keep her steady in place.

“I don’t…I don’t,” the stuttering mess tumbled out innocuously. The lesser of the tense two crouched down to her eye level, letting out an exasperated sigh before waving his hand at his partner.

“Just do it quick then.”

“What?” She yelped, clenching both her fists in an attempt to take control over her arm again.

One of them slugged off to the black trash bag, opening it casually before reaching deep into its contents. Her eyes widened at the sight of the red book being tugged out from the bag, before he walked back over.

“You’re going to do it with that?” The one still gripping her arm asked, his voice dripping venom. The one standing shrugged, “It’s the only thing that looks hard enough. You should’ve brought your bat.”

Everything they were saying seemed to go in one ear and out the other, an unfamiliar ringing replacing their bickering instead. The thumping of her heart beat pulsated to her face and she felt herself ready to combust with panic. But before those feelings could even settle within her, the standing man drew the book back past his shoulder.

She stared at him, anticipating the blow, until he finally fulfilled her worst thought and whipped it forward against her head, the last sight her eyes caught were the bold letterings of “J.G.Q.”

—

The fogginess soon cleared from her mind, a daydream like essence washing over her instead as she tried to take in whatever surroundings her eyes would let her. They struggled to adjust to the dim lighting but eventually, they roved over the room.

A layer of dust seemed to coat almost everything in sight, like a thick blanket, hiding the interiors of simplistic furniture. This room had to have been forgotten, or at least, drawn away to be forgotten.

She stood up, wincing at the painful throbbing in her head, and she raised an arm to tightly clutch around her forehead, trying to suppress a whimper.

“What the hell…”

It didn’t dawn on her before, but this certainly was not the alleyway behind the museum building. Though she had a fair history with panicking under strange and foreign circumstances, she used whatever strength was left in her to ease herself, at least until she could figure out exactly where she was and how she got here.

How long had it been since she was knocked out? How much did it induce her to forget? And what had she gotten herself into yet again?

Mentally thanking herself for never once loosening her grip on her book-bag, she pulled out its contents, double and triple checking if everything she had left her house with was with her now. The notebook, the pen, a couple of candy wrappers, her headphones and finally her cellphone, which she whipped out in an attempt to call whatever authorities she could.

Except, the time was off.

Surely it had to have been later on in the day, or at least week. But both the date and time were exactly the same as when she had checked leaving the museum. A string of muttered profanities escaped her lips as she tried desperately to dial any number, yet to no avail. Of course.

Pursing her lips, she shoved everything back into her bag, tightly zipping it shut before slinging the strap over her shoulder. There was no way she’d find answers in here, so without a pause for thought, she opted to leave the dusty room and proceeded towards the single wooden door.

Her heart nearly stopped when she found a long corridor extending to a large spiral staircase. This certainly did not look like any building structure she was familiar with. Everything felt too elegant, it felt too, old.

The hallway comprised a series of doors, each further than the last. One however, on the left side caught her eye. It was the only set of double doors in the hallway, probably for something or someone important. Every ounce of her being somehow felt it would’ve been wrong to stumble into that room, but she couldn’t shake off the curiosity within her.

Licking her lips, and holding her bag just a tad bit closer, she gently paced over to the doors, careful not to attract any attention to the light taps of her feet across the red carpeted floor.

When she finally reached the doors, she squeezed her eyes shut and took in a deep breath, reminding herself that she had to do this if she wanted to find out how on earth she wounded up here.

So she latched her hand on the knob and quickly pushed it open.

It was darker than the hallway, and with proper assessment, she concluded it had to be night passing by now, judging by the dark blue skies beyond the window across the room. Upon further inspection, and after walking inside, she swallowed thickly as she realized this was a bedroom.

An incredibly large one, might she add.

To the right, a queen sized bed was pushed against the wall, meeting its head-post. Four long pillars extended from each corner, holding up some kind of…tapestry? Drapery? It was hard to tell. To the left, a white sheer glossed door was closed, and right beside it, a folding wardrobe.

Drifting towards the accordion styled doors of the closet, she mindlessly opened one side, peering inside. It held men’s clothing, of various hues and gradients, yet the article that caused her blood to run cold, was the coat at the very end.

Embedded with a sequin of dazzling emblems and glitter, it carried some kind of regal feel to it. Almost as if this didn’t belong in her hands, or in anyone’s for that matter.

And then the door to the bedroom rattled and she froze dead in her spot, darting her head to the handle. Her body remained firmly glued to the ground, but her mind screamed at her to move, to hide, to do something. The sweat trickled over her forehead and if it weren’t for the rush of adrenaline coursing through veins, she would’ve cried. But there’s no time for that.

Tugging at her legs with her arms, she practically threw herself inside the closet, shutting it quick before sinking down in the farthest corner behind a rack of black lace trimmed boots. She cradled her head in her arms, whilst pulling her knees closer to her chest as she tried to steady her breathing to a complete halt.

The door opened. She could hear it. A grunt followed after.

Her body trembled in the darkness, silently waiting for the stranger to leave so she could escape. But she didn’t even know what she’d do after that. Who would she turn to? Who could she call? Not even her phone was functioning properly here and surely this wasn’t someplace where she was welcomed.

It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes, mindlessly waiting inside the closet, praying to whatever higher being that whoever was inside the room would not open the doors to reveal her hiding body. The sliver of light beneath the closet suddenly flickered out, and some shuffling could be heard on the other side.

Whoever it was, had gone to sleep.

She waited just a little bit more, hoping to make her escape sooner than later. Crawling over the boots, to the front, her hand carefully gripped the underside of the door, sliding it just crack open so she could slip out.

Eventually, her entire body finally made it out, and she shut her eyes, the concern too highly concentrated in her brain. Hands flailing over the carpet of the ground, she pushed herself upright, making sure not to breathe a single loud puff. It would be too risky.

But the universe had already made a point in proving she had the worst luck imaginable on earth, and while she was straightening out her clothes, the body in the bed adjacent to her sat up tiredly, bringing a hand to rub at their eyes.

She could only stare, hot pinpricks dotting all over her face until the body in the bed gasped.

It was a man. And he was gawking at her, angrily.

As soon as he could comprehend her presence and release a loud halting demand, she was running straight out of the room, with him on foot close behind.

-

Part II

I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college’s football team. Rumor has it, there’s simply nothing he can’t do. The same cannot be said about you, but you’ve never had an issue with that. You’re happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you’ve taken an interest in him — and you’re sure you shouldn’t. There’s no way this can end well for you… right?

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 17.3k

Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff

Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.

A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then… it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!

The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.

…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.

“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.

Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?

“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.

“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”

Ah, there you know what to say.

“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”

Jin glares at you.

“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.

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baby if i fall, i wanna land right in your bed

sequel to i can’t wait to tell you, ‘i told ya.’

summary:  For the last five months, you and Jungkook have enjoyed the blissful tidings of your new relationship. But it isn’t long before reality rears its ugly head, forcing you to face your insecurities head on when Jungkook makes it apparent what steps he is ready to take while you present one of your own that has him squirming. Meanwhile, Mai begins to show signs of unexplained distress. With life hurdling the two of you into uncharted territory, you and Jungkook begin to question if you can make it over this obstacle.

pairing: dad!Jungkook x beloved!reader genre: sequel, domestic au, angst, fluff rating: pg-15 word count: 21.4k tags/warnings: this fic is built around themes of insecurities about physical intimacy. STILL SFW as there are no explicit scenes of such, but there will be dialogue concerning those topics. pg swearing, romance through out i.e. heavy kissing in two scenes, ‘sex’ is mentioned twice in conversation, a conversation between reader and reader’s mom regarding intimacy, a verbal argument/a bit of yelling, unhealthy communication, mai experiences distress in several scenes, bullying, topics of absent mother, mai hits a classmate [it gets resolved don’t worry ><], heavy crying, emotional distress through out

so to everyone choosing to read this, please proceed by own discretion and caution as these themes can be triggering or uncomfortable for some.

beta readers: thank you to the besties - @btsroyalwilds for reading a little snippet and getting emo with me & for encouraging me while writing this. you already know @hyungieyoongi had to join me for the sequel, she is my dad!JK hype woman and second pair of eyes that round everything out <3 thank u so much ladies.

i made a playlist of the songs that inspired several scenes

a/n: happy sequel day~ ah, i had fun writing this. it challenged me in many ways and i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t nervous to share this kind of content. i’ve grown so attached to this storyline and these character arcs, and really because of all of you and the support you gave to the first fic. if you read it, i would appreciate and love it if you guys share your thoughts with me! other than that, i hope you enjoy this sequel~

Sitting with Jungkook’s arm around you, this bliss is addicting. It’s only been a few months that you two have been together, but it feels like you and Jungkook have loved each other for a lifetime. There’s a newness to watching your families together despite the years you’ve known each other. Your dad and Jungkook’s dad are talking about stocks while your mothers coo over Mai.

Everyone was happy, everyone was at ease, and frankly, everyone was obsessed with the sight of you and Jungkook together. “The family that always should have been,” according to Mrs. Jeon. Jungkook shakes his head when she says that but hearing it leaves a fluttering in his chest.

Jungkook’s hand is wrapped around yours as he drives home with a sleeping Mai in the backseat. You both giggle when she snores, almost waking herself up. 

Once back at their house, you win in a playful fight against Jungkook to carry Mai to bed. Almost eight and an inch taller, she is getting a little heavier but you live for this.

She moans and groans as you help a very zombified Mai change into her pajamas and brush her teeth before ushering her to bed. Usually the chatty one, she manages to butterfly a kiss onto your nose before rolling over, instantly falling back to sleep, her even breathing filling the silence of her room. 

Jungkook is waiting at the door, launched into a dreamy haze after watching it all. He still has to pinch himself, wondering how on earth he managed to get you. And not just in his life as his best friend, which he would have happily kept it that way because having you was better than not. But to have you and be able to tell you with his entire chest, ‘I love you,’ nothing beats that. Watching you get his daughter ready for bed now, the way you’ve handled her with care for all of these years, now it was so different. There was an extra layer of love you had to offer.

He couldn’t fully grasp the feelings that you continued to stir inside of him.

You tie your arms around his neck once he closes Mai’s door and he kisses you, “can you take care of me like that?” He teases against your lips. You roll your eyes, returning his affection. Jungkook carefully walks the two of you toward his bedroom. Too lost in him, you don’t question where he is headed until the back of your knees collide with his bed.

It’s only then that you stutter, pulling away from his kiss though he has an ardent need to show you how much he loves you.

“Kook,” you start to say when he moves his lips across your cheek, pressing them along your jaw, down to the valley of your neck. You gasp and only then does he stop, his face red with passion.

“You okay?” He chuckles, squeezing your waist with his hands.

“Um, yes-” you waver but Jungkook, too caught in the moment, takes that as the go ahead and continues; “a-and no.”

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bitchin’ || (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.8k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: Bitchin’ is a multichapter fic, surprise!! This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and helping me with Yara’s character overall.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART ONE

12:16 pm.

The time on the clock was glaring at you, a silent caution that today’s lab was going to totally suck.

You could feel irritation start to eat away at you. You and your best friend, Yara, had a deal. She would show up to the dissection today and, in exchange, you would gladly do all the work. But given that class would start in four minutes, you had a sneaking suspicion that Yara was going to in fact skip class after all.

You let your chin sink down into the comfort of your open palm, eyes flickering once again towards the black and white clock that was perched up above the classroom’s blackboard. Usually, you could hear each small tick of time, but seeing as this lab was more exciting, every student in the room was currently chatting amongst their peers, covering the clock’s sound.

You considered for a moment making conversation with your professor. That idea was quickly squashed once you realized that he too was preoccupied – his attention set on the clock as well, allowing the minute hand to make its final journey before beginning the class.

Suddenly, you realized that not only had Yara left you alone, but she had also left you without a partner to do the dissection. You glanced around the room, frowning as you saw that every other table was evenly numbered, meaning you would be forced to join a random pair to make a group of three.

Wicked.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” Mr. Kim began, pausing to take a swig from his coffee mug. “I hope everyone read the email I sent out yesterday in regards to proper attire. If anyone isn’t wearing actual shoes, then I suggest you beat it unless you’re particularly amped at the idea of losing a toe when someone accidentally drops their scalpel.”

A few isolated giggles rang out, but no one made any move to leave.

“No one? Radical. Feet are gross anyway–”

The sound of the classroom door suddenly being pushed open stole away everyone’s attention. The late boy that walked in froze momentarily, clearly not expecting all eyes to fall onto him, but quickly regained his composure as he flashed a smile.

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arachne-boy

How do you tell your best friend that the reason you can’t hang out with her is because you’re too busy trying to save New York?

Or, “Are you asking me if I piss out webs?”

pairing: spider-man!jungkook x best friend!reader

word count: 11k

genre: f2l, basically crack, marvel au, comedy(???)

warnings: lost of swearing, kicking ass, bad attempts at me being funny

A/N: references to Avengers: Civil War and A SPECIAL THANK YOU TO @gukvenchy WHO HELPED ME POWER THROUGH THIS

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You know, for someone so observant, you really had an awful habit of texting while walking.

As you made your way along the sidewalks of Queens, you kept your eyes fixated on the bright screen in your hand, the blue light hurting your eyes slightly as it contrasted against the fading afternoon light.

“Watch it!” An angry male voice huffs out as you accidentally run into him, your phone fumbling to the floor.

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry.” You blink, taking in the man that stood in front of you.

He looked disheveled and reeked of alcohol. You frowned. You should head back home, it was getting late; this part of town was slightly dodgy and you knew better than to dwell too long here at night.

Bending over, you grabbed your fallen phone that laid by the man’s feet.

Sighing, you brought it up to view, frowning at your now cracked screen.

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My Beauty, My Blood

With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.

▸ PAIRING: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

▸ RATING & GENRE: NC-17 ; Fluff, Angst, Mafia AU, Single Parent AU           [ ! ] Warning: Mentions of violence and sex

▸ WORD COUNT: 20,001 words

▸ A/N: I had posted this under a different user a while back and I’m finally bringing it back yay! This was one of my favorites to write and it had been written for bangtan book club’s mafia prompt. Marked as NC-17 to be safe :)

With blood-soaked hands, Jeongguk lets his gun clatter to the ground, the sound of metal against concrete barely audible with how hard his heart is beating in his chest. It thumps and pounds, thundering its demands to be released from its shackles of misery. But this chain—death—is inevitable, unfixable. A permanent carving upon his heart that has left a hollowness in its place.

Rain pours from the sky, blurring the bright city lights behind them that shine none of their guidance into the dark alley they are hidden in. Three men, two guns, one survivor. The risk comes with his line of work and, though he grows numb over the years towards the number of lives lost, plans spoiled, he supposes death is inescapable even to those he once believed as invincible.

“Guk,” the man, his partner, his other half, winces as he struggles to sit up against the wall. His shirt is soaked to the threads with rainwater mixed in with the blood that sinks into the fabric and taints his skin with a murky crimson. “Will you promise me something?”

Promises, promises. There are no guarantees. Nothing can ever be said for sure. He’s learned that the hard way. But Jeongguk does anyway.

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